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myloversgone · 2 years

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Let Me Change Your Mind

Pairing: Dean x Y/N; Dean x You; Dean x female!reader

Warnings: +18. Lots of sex. Unprotected sex (be smart, this is fiction); P in V; oral sex (male and female receiving). Dirty talk. Dean being the hottest motherfucker on Earth (this is a real warning). Pure filth. There’s barely a plot, I really should be ashamed of myself.

Summary: Dean thinks shower sex is complicated and dangerous. Can you change his mind about it?

This takes place during season 8, around the time the Winchesters found the MoL bunker, but it doesn’t exactly follow the show’s storyline.

A/N: This is my entry for the lovely @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone Make-Me-Horny challenge. I hope I was able to accomplish that 😁 Unfortunately, tumblr is stupid and I can’t post the hot AF gif she sent me to inspire this fic, unless I wanna be flagged, so if you want to see it, just send me a message and I’ll send it to you. I did my best to describe it, though (the description is highlighted in the story).

I wanted to post this work sooner, but life has been kicking my ass lately and, to make it worse, I’ve been sick for the last two days.🤢 So, please, if this sucks too much, you can blame my stomach bug.

I hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback is highly appreciated! Thanks for reading!

"Come on, Dean, you said we could try anything."

"I know what I said, sweetheart, but shower sex is complicated."

"Well, apparently I'm gonna have to take your word for it, 'cause it doesn't seem like I'll be trying it any time soon!"

You were really pissed off. For the last 30 minutes, you've been trying to convince Dean to have sex with you in the shower. But, to your surprise, he vehemently stated he didn't want to, saying it was complicated and even dangerous.

Since your boyfriend found out how boring your sex life was before him, you both agreed you should try some different things every once in a while. Dean had already shown you so many good - and very, very naughty - things you didn't even know existed, so you thought his idea was great.

Lately, you’ve been wanting to try shower sex, and you were adamant about convincing him to do it.

"Baby, don't be mad", Dean pleaded when you got up from his lap and turned your back to him, ready to leave the small motel room where you found yourselves in while working on a case.

"I'm not mad. Just frustrated", you explained, pouting and turning to look at him. "I've been picturing us doing it and I think it would be great". You bit your lower lip, looking up at Dean from under your lashes, knowing very well how much it drove him crazy. He couldn't deny you anything when you made that face.

"Y/N", he said your name as a warning. "We can't do it here or in any other motel we’ve ever been to. It's too dangerous, believe me. Those tiles are slippery and there's nowhere to hold, one of us will end up hurt, maybe both of us". Dean explained, walking to you and placing his hands on each side of your waist, bringing your body close to his.

"But", you tried again "we’ve already showered together more than once, and we never got hurt". You knew you were whining like a child and being a pain in the ass, but shower sex has been your most recent fantasy. You wanted it badly.

And you were telling the truth. You and Dean had showered together many times, and what sometimes started as just an innocent shower after a particularly gruesome hunt, always ended up in heavy make out sessions, but it never got to the “main attraction” because of Dean’s caution, which was part of the reason you wanted it so much. Plus, just the thought of holding onto his massive shoulders, his skin glistening with the drops of water while he thoroughly fucks you under the shower, is enough to make your lady parts clench.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart. Who knows, maybe someday we’ll find a place safe enough so we don’t end up with a broken leg”, Dean winked at you, pulling you back from your daydream and kissing you, one of his hands travelling from your waist to your ass, squeezing a buttcheek.

You kissed him back, your tongue invading his mouth to taste him. “I hope you’re right. Plus, it’s your loss, you know. Sam said he’s gonna be out for at least two hours until he can find the witness. We could use the time to have fun”, you bit his lower lip, using your tongue to soothe the bite while pressing your crotch against Dean’s body.

“You’re a naughty girl, teasing me like that”. It was his turn to kiss you, sucking on your upper lip. Holding the back of your head, he pulled you closer, owning you, making you gasp. It was his promise you wouldn’t have to wait until you could find a “safe shower” to have great sex.

—--------------------------------------------------

Two weeks later

“I think we’ve found the Bat Cave”, said Dean while looking at the thousands of books available in the Men of Letters’ bunker library.

None of you would’ve guessed the place would be so intact when Henry Winchester told you about the bunker. Still, it was surprisingly inhabitable. In fact, it had everything you needed.

The three of you started to look around and, as Sam and Dean opened doors, switching the lights on and getting increasingly impressed with the place, you went to the kitchen, quickly assessing the room and thinking you’ve finally found a place where you could cook a decent meal for a change.

Proceeding to explore the other rooms, you passed through the bedroom Dean chose to be yours and his and continued down the hall. Opening the last door to your left, you felt like your jaw had hit the floor.

You found yourself in a huge bathroom. It had black and white tiles covering the walls, two sinks with large mirrors right above them, a bathtub, and, the most important thing: two shower spaces with benches attached to the walls. Big benches that could definitely fit two people sitting side by side and even a person lying down comfortably. You couldn’t believe your luck.

“Dean, get your ass over here! I wanna show you something!”, you yelled from the door, practically jumping in excitement.

You heard Dean’s footsteps quickly approaching. “What’s up, sweetheart?” He stopped beside you, voice dying and eyes widening when he realized what he was looking at.

“I guess we’ll have to test the hot water, huh? See if it lasts as long as we need it to”, you grinned, patting Dean’s chest and leaving him open mouthed.

Sadly, as the events unfolded, new hunts stopped you and Dean from enjoying the bunker, its bathroom especially.

A week later, your boyfriend finally returned from a hunt he and his brother went to. On their way home, Sam took a detour and went to help Garth, which meant you and Dean were alone, with the bunker all to yourselves.

“Hey, sweetheart”, Dean called from the top of the stairs, closing the door behind him.

“Hi, baby. How was the hunt?”, you put aside the book you were reading to go meet him in the middle of the room, standing on your tiptoes to give him a welcome kiss.

“It was ok, a simple salt and burn, but we had to dig like three graves. I need a shower ASAP. How about you join me?”, Dean offered, giving you a naughty smirk.

You felt your stomach tighten in excitement. Finally. You’ve been away from Dean for too long, you missed him already. “Sure.You can go ahead and I’ll be with you in a minute”. You kissed him again, quickly nibbling his lower lip. Dean went in the direction of the hallway while you put the books back on their shelves and proceeded to your bedroom, where you undressed completely and wrapped yourself in your boyfriend’s Dead Guy Robe. You ran your hands through your hair, tidying the strands. You knew Dean wouldn’t mind if it was a mess, but you wanted to be pretty for him. After all, you promised to change his mind about shower sex, and you intended to do just that.

As you left the bedroom and approached the bathroom door, you could hear the shower running. Your heart started to beat faster. It didn’t matter that you’ve been dating Dean for almost a year; you still got excited with the perspective of having sex with him. He always took good care of you, always put your needs first. He truly is amazing.

You opened the door to find Dean in the first shower stall. His back was turned to you and his arms were up; he was washing his hair. You closed the door and stopped for a moment to admire him. His arms were bulging with the movement he was making to spread the shampoo on his hair. Even from a distance, you could see the muscles on his back move under his flawless, freckled skin. Your gaze went down his spine, focusing on the dimples on his lower back and then on his ass. His perfect, muscled, rounded ass. It was one of those moments when you could barely believe a man as beautiful as Dean could even exist.

Already feeling your pelvic muscles clenching, you called his name, since he didn’t seem to notice your arrival. “Hey, Dean”.

He turned around to look at you. You couldn’t help but stare between his strong legs, seeing his cock semi erect, his substantial size catching your attention. Dean’s body reacted quickly to you, it always did, which was very flattering and just one more reason for you to be head over heels for him.

“Hi, baby girl. Is that my robe?”, he asked, his gaze taking in your entire body.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’m taking it off now”, you explained while doing just that, exposing yourself completely to him.

“Damn, you’re gorgeous”, Dean bit his lower lip, his eyes fixed on you as you approached the stall, putting a little swing on your hips just to keep your boyfriend interested.

Standing under the shower, you let the warm water cascade over you as you placed your arms around Dean’s neck and touched his body with yours. You felt your nipples harden as they touched his skin. He leaned down to kiss you sensuously, his lips parting yours as his tongue entered your mouth. Holding you close, one of his hands was supporting your lower back as the other ran up from your hip to the side of your breast, caressing the delicate skin.

Reaching between your bodies, you closed your hand around his cock. The contact was enough to make it fully erect for you, and Dean groaned, his face buried in your neck, kissing and sucking the skin. When he removed his hand from your breast and started to run it down your body, reaching the folds between your legs, you let go of him, making him stop.

"Today is about you, baby. Just sit down and relax", you told Dean while pushing him to sit on the bench attached to the shower wall.

He kept looking at you, admiring your body as he walked backwards until the back of his knees hit the bench. He sat and you kneeled in front of him, between his muscular bowed legs.

"Whatcha gonna do, huh, baby girl?", he asked, voice deep with lust.

You took him in your hand again, massaging his length up and down and watching the wide tip get redder, precum already leaking from it.

Looking at Dean from under your lashes, you leaned forward and kissed the head of his cock, making him hiss with the warm feeling of your lips. Then you hollowed your cheeks and did your best to take him inside your mouth. He was too big, so taking ⅔ of him was all you could do. His length was already down your throat, and you swallowed around him as much as you could. He moaned loudly, leaning his head against the wall behind him and reaching for your wet hair.

"Fuck Y/N, you look so good with my cock in your mouth", he praised while you sucked and bobbed your head up and down, letting him hit the back of your throat every time. You hummed, sending shocks of pleasure through his member. You grabbed his thighs to steady yourself, feeling the warmth of his skin.

You kept sucking and ended up letting him fuck your mouth, holding your hair in a ponytail and guiding you, until he told you he couldn't take it anymore. "I wanna come in your pussy, baby girl, come here. Sit on my lap".

Giving one last wet kiss on the slit of his beautiful cock, you gladly got up. Your knees were starting to hurt.

Grabbing his thick length covered with your spit, you positioned it in your entrance, spreading your legs to take him easier. You were very wet, not only from the water, but because sucking Dean's dick turned you on every time. Rubbing the head on your folds, you took him inside you, lowering yourself on his cock, feeling every delicious inch penetrating you.

"Oh, God, Dean", you whined when you finally took all of him, his pubic hair tickling you. Dean looked down to where you were joined, finding it hot to watch his cock being completely swallowed by your pussy.

You started lifting your hips, bouncing up and down on his lap, the back of your thighs hitting the front of his with a slapping sound increased by the water pouring over both of your bodies. You held onto the nape of his neck, your mouth forming an O with how deep he was hitting you.

Placing both palms into each side of his body for leverage, Dean started to lift his hips from the bench, meeting you halfway. The movement enhanced the muscles of his arms, his biceps bulging. He couldn't take his eyes off of your face, entranced by the absolute pleasure on your features. You weren't able to form words, knowing soon you would be tired of bouncing like that, but enjoying it immensely. It didn't bother you to be making most of the effort this time; Dean was always the one to do everything his powerful body allowed him to bring you pleasure. Now, it was your turn.

"Is that good, baby?", you asked him, panting.

"God, yes. You're perfect, Y/N", he grinned, tilting his head up to kiss you. His warm tongue slipped inside your open mouth, tasting you and deepening the kiss. You moaned with the feeling and Dean gave a particularly hard thrust, hitting just the right place.

"F-fuck, Dean", you lost your rhythm, feeling your legs getting tired with the up and down movement, so you fully sat on his lap, stopping for a while.

With Dean buried inside you to the root, you started grinding on his lap without moving up, just using your hips and the muscles on your lower belly to squeeze him, keeping him as deep as you could.

“Jesus, fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing around me”. Dean had to close his eyes; he was afraid he was gonna come before you if he kept looking at your beautiful body, at the movements of your hips, your tits bouncing as you rode him. “Keep riding me, sweetheart. I love when you do that”, he pleaded, gritting his teeth to keep control.

“You’re so deep inside me, Dean. I’m gonna come with you there, ok, honey? You’re just in the right place”. You knew Dean loved when you were vocal during sex, being it dirty talk or not. He was always amazing, knowing exactly where to touch you and sometimes knowing your body better than yourself, so you didn’t have to guide him through what made you feel good. Still, since you started dating, he freed you of your inhibitions, encouraging you to be as loud and talkative as you wanted.

“Yeah, come for me, baby. Come on my cock, c’mon”. He pulled you closer, kissing and biting your shoulder, which was enough to turn you into mush. You came hard, the pleasure scattering through your body as a fire while you moaned and called Dean’s name like a pornstar. Except you weren’t faking it.

The noises you were making and the sight of your body shaking in pleasure did it for Dean. He came too, hot and hard, throbbing inside you as you felt him filling you with his seed. Breathing hard, you two remained enlaced, your legs and arms wrapped around Dean’s body as you kissed, enjoying the aftershocks of your orgasms.

A few minutes later, when your breathing returned to normal, you leaned away from Dean, intending to move, but he seemed to have a different plan.

"You hard again?", you asked in awe. You could feel him hardening and lengthening inside you, your slick walls once more stretching to accommodate him.

Dean didn’t even bother answering. He just held your legs firmly and got up, turning around so your back was against the wall and he could start thrusting. "Gonna make you cum again, baby girl", he took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and licking while you held on to him, his biceps slippery from the water.

A dozen thrusts later, he throbbed inside you, burying himself deep and definitely leaving bruises on your hips where he held you. You would wear his marks proudly. Dean's cum filled you once more, and he pulled his cock off of you to gently lay you on the bench, holding your spread legs and using his thumb and index finger to open you and watch his seed leaking out of you.

"Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking hot", he said, kissing your still sensitive pussy and then sucking your clit, making you whimper. You were 100% sure you would be soaked in sweat if it weren't for the shower. You felt hot all over, your body tingling and still recovering from your last orgasm.

“Gosh, Dean, that’s so fucking good”, you praised breathlessly. Your hand reached for his head and you used your nails to scratch his scalp, giving him the perfect opportunity to bury his tongue inside you, making you arch your back and moan loud.

He felt amazing, soothing the soreness between your legs while guiding you through your third orgasm. You obviously didn’t last long, and Dean cleaned you of your juices, drinking every drop you had to give.

You were so spent you didn’t feel like moving. Getting up, Dean kissed you, long and passionately. With your eyes closed, you heard him turning the shower off and opening the towel closet.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed”. He wrapped you in a big towel and carried you, bridal style, to your bedroom, where he dried your hair and dressed you back in his robe.

You felt tired in the best way, laying on your side on the big bed, facing your hot boyfriend. “Dean, that was so amazing. Thank you”, you said, pulling his face towards yours to give him a quick kiss.

He chuckled, kissing you back. “I think I should be the one thanking you, Y/N/N. You really did change my mind”.

“Yeah? What do you think about shower sex now?”, you asked, teasing him.

“I think it’s awesome!”.

THE END

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If you came this far, thank you for sticking up with me! I don’t have a tag list yet, but I’m gonna tag some lovely people who always support me with their likes, reblogs and comments. Please, if you don’t want to be tagged on future posts, just let me know, no worries! Or, if you weren’t tagged but want to be, you can message me too 😉

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior , @avanatural, @charred-angelwings, @itsthemegacoven , @eevvvaa , @ejlovespie

#audswritingchallenge #makemehornychallenge #dean x female!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you

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staygolddindjarin · 3 years

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Grief

Chapter One: History

Din Djarin x Reader x a bunch of other star wars characters

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter Warnings: Oof this ones kinda angsty right off the bat- ⚠️ attempted suicide?? Kinda?? Age gap (reader is underage, but don't worry it's just for the sake of backstory and also there's no spicy, so...) mentions of death and afterlife, fluff if you like squint really hard

A/n: hello there... I'm sorry to inflict tumblr with this atrocity, but wattpad had to deal with it so tumblr can too. I wrote a different version of this on my wp with an OC name, but I know that not everyone cares for that so this won't include that. Also this series will be such a slow burn... prepare yourself ahead of time because it's going to be agonizing

Words: 6.3k+

SERIES MASTERLIST UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Part 1/?

"Pehea gar mar'eyir ni...."

How did you find me....

He came and sat beside me, the sound of metal scraping agaisnt the ground when he knelt first.

"Gar cuyir te shi solus tion'ad comes olar jii. Ni kar'taylir gar jate'shya gar mirdir Ni vaabir," He responded.

You are the only one who comes here now. I know you better than you think I do.

I heaved a deep breath before letting it out in an exhausted sigh. Speaking in my native tongue was something I always appreciated, but now sitting here it felt nearly uncomfortable, but there was a reason for that.

"I wanted to be alone," The words from my mouth were no longer in my language, and he shifted beside me, trying to convey his confusion without a word.

"Care to elaborate?" He suggested, his asking tone was harsh... but then so was everything else about him.

I didn't really feel like explaning my feelings at the moment. I didn't want to focus on the very thing he was asking about. Even though he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was asking.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you," I trailed off.

"Try me." His voice wasn't any softer, but the sincerity he rarely showed had seeped into his tone.

"I really don't think it's a good idea. You really won't understand, and for all I know you could make things worse off for me than they already are," I didn't like it when he let his guard down around me. I didn't like getting closer to him, even though I was supposed to.

"I can't force you. Whatever it is, I wouldn't get myself too worked up," He sounded hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it was by my words. He was too strong to be wounded by such trivial things.

He moved in his seat, beginning to stand, and for some reason the thought of being alone like I had originally intended seemed like a horrible idea.

I reached out to grip his arm. I kept my gaze forward, knowing that even if I looked at him I could not see his eyes.

"Stay."

He didn't hesitate. He sat down again, and I no longer felt guilt for the hurt in his voice a moment prior.

We sat for a moment in silence, just looking over the cliffside, into the deep canyons that wove in between settlements and encampments of our tribes and clans.

"I don't want this life," I whispered. I had only half hoped he would be paying enough attention to hear me. My voice was soft enough that he might not have.

"What do you mean?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, regretting the choice to even say what I did. I felt a shiver go down my arms, and I felt the wind come into the old open cavern, making the air around me chill. My arms were exposed, for I didn't expect the cold tonight. I didn't expect to be here this long.

"I'll turn sixteen in four days. I will either take the creed, or deny everything I've ever been taught. I'd leave if I do that," I finally gave a glance in his direction. He looked back at me, or at least the beskar did. I could never tell where his eyes were.

"You want to leave?" That pained tone of his voice had returned. The one I felt guilty for without actually believing I had done anything to cause it.

I did. I wanted to get off this planet. Away from the responsibility of becoming what everyone expected of me.

"I have to. It's the only way I will ever be at peace, but I'm not sure if I truly have the strength to stand in front of my family and deny the creed."

I could run away. I had some friends who were planning to jump a transport and join the rebellion against the empire.

They had offered me to be apart of this, but I had refused, believing that I would follow in my ancestors footsteps and take the creed. My father had already provided the beskar for my helmet to be made. It was already in the armourer's possession. All that was left was for me to come of age.

"Where did you go, just now?" He noticed my lack of attentiveness to my current reality, and brought me back to where I was. On the drafty cliffside, with my legs hanging over the end.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking about the future," I had admitted. Though I felt the need to stay emotionally distant from him, and not let myself develop a closeness, I knew I could trust him with my life, which is why I even revealed these things to him in the first place.

"What do you think your future will look like?" The tone that brought me guilt had again left his voice, but was replaced by something else... was it fear? I could not even think of theorizing that he could ever be scared. He was one of the bravest in his clan. Never had he shown an ounce of fear to anyone or anything. How stupid of me to even wonder.

"Merc and his crew are gonna stow away on a crate transport tomorrow. He has contact with the rebellion. He said that I could go with them if I was up for it," I looked down, almost embarrassed at admitting a plan of escape to someone so loyal to this place. Even though he wasn't born on this planet, and even though he wasn't a blood member of any tribe, the foundling was more of a mandalorian than I could ever be.

"You've agreed?"

"No. Not yet," I shook my head. I didn't feel like my reasons were valid. Having him sit beside me, and ask me these things made me realize that I needed to explain myself further.

"Din, I want to be free. I don't want to spend the rest of my life under a code that is so restricting to me, binding my every decision. Everything I'd do would have to be following after the creed."

He didn't respond, and even though his features were shrouded under the reflective surface of his beskar, I could tell he was thinking of something.

"I'm not yet sixteen, but when I am... I don't want to be locked down under a piece of metal. I don't want to have to be bound to this planet or a clan. I want to go some place far away and be something that is different than what everyone expects of me. I want to fight battles against the empire, I want to make my own rules. I want to be free to marry who I love, and not be betrothed to whoever my father chooses for me," I finished off my speech about freedom, but realized the last sentence too late. I should have chosen a better set of words.

Din's head hung down, looking at the wrist guards he wore. He shook his head back and forth and before I could interject, he began speaking.

"So that's why...." he trailed off. I was honestly too scared to say anything now. Why must I speak so bluntly and hurtfully honest to people? Perhaps it is because I had never gotten close to him that now I had no fear in what I said to his face.

"If the reason you plan to leave your family is because of me, then-"

"No," I said harshly, catching him off guard. I was usually snippy with others, but I had never before shown a tendency to be angry or intense with my speech. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with you."

"You have always shown enthusiasm towards coming of age. It's only now, when we are arranged, that you show any difference," He brought on certainty in his voice that I nearly couldn't deny, but the truth was... it really wasn't about him. "I can converse with your father, the rest of the clan... I will find a way to break it off if it will make you stay."

"Din, I don't want you to do that. If you don't believe me when I tell you that you are not the cause of this, then so be it, but I will not have you ruining your good name in my favor, when it won't even stop me," The heat of the moment provided actual, physical warmth for me in the time I was running my mouth off, but now that I had finished, and begun to calm down, I felt the freezing air on my arms again, wrapping them around myself and drawing my legs closer to generate more body heat.

"Are you cold?" He changed the subject, needing something- anything else to say.

"Its not exactly warm up here," My voice was low and sarcastic, but at hearing my words, Din stood up and stepped behind me. Before I even had a chance to ask him what he was doing, I felt his thick woolen cape being draped around my shoulders.

I smiled softly, not even a real, full smile. More of just a small tug from the side of my lips. My real smile was saved for later.

"Thank you."

He nodded as he sat back down, letting his legs fall over the cliffside.

"So you're gonna leave with them, aren't you?" His head turned to face me, but I couldn't dare try and stare at the beskar while thinking of what I would do. This choice was the beginning of the rest of my life.

"I think so," I didn't think. Thinking was what I had been doing too much of. Now I was certain. This was my choice. I was going to start new, and become something different. I may have been born on mandalore, but I was definitely not a mandalorian.

I had a rush of confidence come through me until I remembered what this meant. It all hit me like a dropship coming out of hyperspace. What was I thinking?

"No," I whispered. Din didn't understand my sudden discouragement, but he would soon.

"Merc and his friends already denied the creed. He's a foundling. They all are," I started to tear up as I realized what would happen to my family. The loss of a child in a clan is bad enough, but my family hadn't done anything to dessrve this. They were caring. They had shown me love. They had given me the best life I could ask for on a planet with such a religion.

"Second thoughts?" He asked genuinely, scooting closer beside me as to maybe get more information from my body language, or even my breathing.

"I can't do this. My family would be ruined. If I ran away, they would be punished for it," I felt tears coming up in my eyes. My clan was good to me. The people were kind, and I found solace there. Even if I had always dreamt about something bigger, I couldn't bear to let ruin come upon my family name. It wasn't fair to let that happen, especially when the only thing in the way was my own selfishness. "I can't leave my family."

I let the tears stream down my face, not even bothering to wipe them away. The contrast of the cold wind on my hot, tear streaked face had helped to calm me down a little.

"If you plan on staying, you understand that I am apart of your future here, don't you?"

"Din, I already told you before... you are not the reason I want to leave," I tried my best to keep myself together, but with my wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes, I didn't see how that could be an option.

What if there was another way to freedom?

I sat, trying to think of some stories that the other clan members would talk about.

"Din?"

He hummed in response, keeping his gaze on me.

"Has anyone in your clan ever mentioned afterlife?" I maybe should have taken a different approach to this. He seemed to be rendered speechless by my topic of conversation, but I had to ask.

"You mean after death?" He asked me and I nodded.

"I've heard some stories."

I thought about how it had been described to me. A paradise, with never-ending happiness, and unlimted freedom. Freedom.

"After you die, you appear in the world as another life. You can do whatever you want and no one has consequences for any of it. It's like a world without chaos. Everything is perfect," I remember every word as it comes out of my mouth. The words that were spoken to me, more like taught to me when I was a bit younger by the elders who had retired from their days of battle.

"It sounds too easy." He said, ripping me out of my fantasy.

"That's the point. You don't have to worry about anything or anyone, because you can do as you please, and everything will still be the same. All you have to do is die...."

"Like being reborn into a different world."

"Exactly."

I hesitated to take my safety blaster from it's holster under my hip, and when I did, I looked at it before pointing it out in the distance and testing the trigger. It shot a blast of lazer energy out into the air, landing somewhere beneath us in the canyon.

I decided that this was not an act to pursue at the moment, for Din was sitting right beside me, and the sight of watching a young girl pull the trigger against her own head might be an unpleasant one. Even for him, though he has seen worse.

I put the blaster back in it's holster and stand up from the rocky ground. Din follows suit, looking down at me with quiet concern. I wouldn't have known it until now, but I wondered if he had come to care for me at all during these last few weeks we had been betrothed.

I'd known him the majority of my life anyways, so I knew he must have felt some sort of attachment to me, but in what form, I hadn't ever cared to ask.

He kept breathing heavily as he looked down at me for a few moments, and it almost sounded like he wanted to ask me something. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

"Here's your cape back," I slid the material off my shoulders, trying to hand it back to him, but he pushed it back towards me.

"You should keep it for now. The sun is nearly down, it will only grow colder."

He reached his gloved hand up to my face, and I could swear I felt the warmth of his hand beneath the coarse leather.

I only nodded, and leaned forward, trying to lean my head into him, but he carefully stopped me, his hands on my shoulders. Instead he rested his helmet against my forhead, and the cold beskar wasn't such a bad feeling as it rested there.

"I won't let you down. I promise." He said, clueless of my plans for later tonight, after the tribes were asleep, and no one would be at the cliffside.

"I know you won't. You're a good man, Din Djarin." I paused, trying to gather better words. "A true Mandalorian if there ever was one."

The moment didn't last any longer because of how frigid the air was becoming. It was warmer back with the tribes, they always had a fire burning.

Without another word, we both left the old artillery cavern and hiked down the side of the canyon to get back to our own clan territory.

Once I was at the edge of mine, I turned around to utter a simple goodbye, and found that he was very close behind me. His hand came up and rested on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

Maybe this was the last time we would see each other. Tonight I would envoke my plan to freedom, to rebirth. Perhaps we would meet in another life. Perhaps I would have just enough memory of this life to try and find him in the next one. One where I will have freedom.

Tonight I had gotten closer to the metal clad Mandalorian than I ever had before. I didn't regret it. He listened to what I had to say, and there were few who ever did.

His hand fell from it's place on my shoulder, but I didn't let him walk away yet. I pulled him into an embrace, feeling him tense up for a moment before reciprocating. It took him a few seconds to let out the breath he was holding in, but when he did, he found himself relaxing into the comfort.

"Goodbye, Din," My voice wasn't sad, or overly sensitive in any way. I figured it actually sounded quite optimistic.

"You know I'll see you tomorrow." He said, reminding me of the clan meetings. Once a month the clans would gather and each tribe would go over the agenda for whatever was to happen soon. Battles were normally discussed, but tomorrow, me and a few of the others in the other clans would be talked about. Our ceremonial coming of age where we would take the creed.

"Yeah... right. Don't come looking for me, I don't plan on showing up," I said quietly, careful in anyone was to hear me.

He pulled me back at arms length and looked at me, but his black blast shield hid his features and I could not tell if he thought I was crazy or not.

"How come?" His voice was also quiet, as we noticed some of my clan passing by to get to the fire.

"Don't worry about it. You'll still see me tomorrow," I lied. Or did I? Everyone within the five neighboring tribes would probably see me tomorrow.

He nodded, pulling us all the way apart and stepping back.

"Good."

He didn't look like he was gonna walk away until I had gone into the hub of my clan's small village. I turned around and walked towards the large fire, seeing my mother. Her helmet was unmistakable. The pattern of the strill engraved into the side of the beskar. It was her signet. A worthy kill of her days in battle. I would never have one. I walked towards her when she noticed me.

Her modulated voice let out a small chuckle, before I stepped beside her.

"It is well to see you spending time with Din Djarin. Me and your father were afraid you may not have been fond of him," She kept her gaze on the fire, speaking only loud enough for me to hear her, given that the other mandalorians of our village were also gathering around the fire, conversing with each other the same way we were.

"I am fond of him, why would I not be?" I was unsure of what she meant. Sure, I had been keeping a distance between us since my father had arranged our marriage, but I never had shown that I wasn't fond of him. I was polite, and gave him attention when it was asked of me.

"Whenever I or your father bring up the discussion of your eighteenth birthday, you always seem to act like it's the plague," She was smirking under her helmet, and I could tell. I could always tell what face she made underneath her metal covering.

"Maybe it's the fact that I dread getting married at all. I'm not opposed to Din, though," I convinced her. I wouldn't have to try and do that again after tonight.

"Whatever it is, your father will be pleased to know you and him were in each other's company. Although I will stray from telling him you two were alone... you were alone, weren't you?" She turned her metal covered head, trying to figure out from the look on my face.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, knowing there was no point in lying. No damage could be done at this point, except for maybe towards Din.

"And what were you both doing?" She tilted her head, and I let mine drop. I would tell her the truth, because nothing bad could come from it. Or could it.

"We were just talking... about the future," I answered.

"Your marriage..." She suggested, and I nodded, knowing that it did come up in the conversation.

"Yes."

"I shudder to ask if consummating was apart of this conversation," She looked back at the fire, knowing how red my cheeks would turn and how embarrassed I would be.

"No, nothing like that. I can promise you," I shivered at the thought. Din was a good man, but I didn't necessarily need to be letting thoughts like that intrude my mind.

Everyone else around the fire seemed to be distracted by the glowing flames, and my mother was soon the same, so I suggested my absense.

"I'm going to go in for the night, get some rest. Big meeting tomorrow..." I said before reaching out and squeezing her hand tightly.

She nodded to me, and I took my leave, walking towards our living quarters on the opposite side of camp.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and brushed my shoulder against Merc, who was with Gander and Shyloh.

"Sorry, didn't see you coming," I told him, but he shook his head, optiing ti ask me a question instead.

"Don't worry about it, I was looking for you anyway... Did you think about the offer? We leave at sunrise on the north delivery tarmac," He informed me, but I didn't have an answer. I wasn't staying here, but I wasn't leaving either.

"You'll know if I show up," I gave him a smirk, partially just because I was glad to see someone's actual face tonight, and not just a metal facade.

"We can't wait up for you, just know that."

I nodded, letting them get by. Maybe I could go with them. Live this life freely without starting another one.

No.

My family will not be able to handle that. It's better off if I'm dead. At least they won't go on to believe that I betrayed them, turning my back on all loyalty they had ever taught me. They would nevwr wonder if I ever loved them or planned on keeping their wishes.

I could start fresh. They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. And I wouldn't have to worry anymore either. Rebirth.

I went straight to bed, clutching the woolen blanket beside me close to my chest.

For some reason I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Something that made the sting of salty tears swell in my eyes. I knew that what I was doing was best, but yet I started having a hard time justifying something so drastic. They would get on fine without me, wouldn't they? They would go on living by the creed. This is the way. They will find a way to go on without me, like they did before I was born. Din will be arranged with another girl as soon as I'm gone. Everything will be alright.

The wetness that spilled over my eyes and down my face lasted hours, even though my mind kept telling itself that it was at peace.

It was in the dead of night, when I gathered a few of my belongings into a knapsack, throwing it over my shoulder before leaving out the tattered window of my private space.

I ventured to the canyon, with the moons lighting my way. The planet was never truly dark, due to the brightness and the number of shinning moons, all the color silver.

I set my knapsack down on the edge beside me. By the end of this, I would be at the bottom, waiting to be found the next day. I just hoped it wouldn't be anyone I knew. Of course, the number of people who ever came out here was only two. Me, and Din Djarin.

I hoped he wouldn't find me. I hoped it would be someone from another tribe that was flying over, and happened to spot something at the base of the cliffside.

I pulled my flask to my mouth, taking a large drink. A bit spilled onto my chin, and I wiped it off, feeling the breeze on my face. It was much colder now than earlier tonight. I wasn't sure if I should pull the blanket from my belongings and wrap it around myself, or skip the process of making myself comfortable and just get this over with.

I leaned over, looking straight at the ground, hundreds of feet below me. My heart started racing, and I got scared. Why shouldn't I be? I have every right to be absolutely terrified. I closed my eyes, trying to scoot myself over the edge inch by inch, seeing if I would just drop.

I nearly panicked when my bottom hit a crack in the ground and I thought I was going over. My breath hitched in my throat and I instantly pulled myself back.

"This isn't as easy as I thought it would be," I murmered, beginning to feel the emotional side of everything rise to the surface again. It didn't help that with the absolute silence that circled around me, I couldn't have any single thing to distract me.

I stood to my feet, wrapping my arms around myself to ease the goosebumps rising on my skin from the frigid air.

I stood right on the edge, lifting a foot over and leaning forward, but before I could fall, I again caught myself, the adrenaline working overtime in my system and beginning to heat me up.

That wasn't going to work either. If I could, I would put a blaster to my temple and pull the trigger, but then it wouldn't look like an accident.

I paced around back and forth a few times, trying to calm myself down, to stop the whimpering and to make my tears cease. It wasn't working. I just needed to get this over and done with. A new life, with endless possibilities was waiting for me on the other side. Freedom was on the other side.

I wiped my face, even though it didn't stop me from crying, but it helped me to see clearer. I backed up, into the cavern, all the way inside until my back hit the wall of the ex artillery carvern. This was it. A new beginning. Rebirth. New life. Freedom.

I ran as fast as I could toward the edge, my eyes closed. I could feel the wind blowing against me even harder with my speed, and I could tell the edge was drawing near. Every step I took, I felt as though it was my last one.

I finally felt my foot hit the edge, but then I never fell. Instead, I was tackled to the ground. Whoever landed on top of me was heavy enough to hold me down, because half of me was hanging off the edge of the cliff.

I didn't dare even open my eyes. This was a sign. Someone stopped me.

I clinged onto whoever it was, and knew almost instantly who was laid over me when I heard him groan.

I cried even harder, my head buried in his armor clad chest, and my arms around his neck and his torso.

He was holding me tightly, one hand cradled my head into his neck, and the other firmly gripped my waist. He rolled us both over and I swear I felt him shaking.

"What were you thinking?" He stressed, his grip on me tightening as if he was scared to let go. I was scared too. I didn't want him to let go.

"You have to talk to me..."

I heaved a deep breath, deep enough to steady my voice so my whimpering didn't interfere with my words.

"I want out. I need to get out," I cracked in the middle of saying so few words, but they conveyed the message I was trying to get through.

"I can get you out, I promise.... But please don't ever try that again," His voice was full of worry, and as I suspected, he was trembling in fear.

"I'm sorry..." I cried some more, realizing that what I had done was now the biggest mistake I ever made, even if I was saved.

"It's okay. You're okay. I've got you," He spoke to me, my voice quieting down as my sobbing came to a slow halt.

I lifted my face from where I had burrowed it into his neck, looking up at him. I didn't know what his expression was, but something told me it was fearful, and worrysome.

"I have to get out of here," I repeated again. The last day or so it became my mantra, and would leave my lips often, even just to myself. Mostly just to myself.

"You're going to. You're going with Merc... when are they leaving?" He asked, his arms still around me like mine were for him.

"At sunrise. They're gonna jump a delivery ship on the north tarmac," I explained, my voice was now hoarse and thick, due to not only all the crying I had done, but also the cold night air that had entered my lungs.

"Sunrise isn't for a few hours..." he let me know, and I nodded, knowing we shouldn't probably leave yet, for the walk to the north tarmac wasn't very long from here.

"Din, if I leave, my family is going to get the fire for my decision. I can't let that happen," I told him, my voice had become more firm, and I needed to convey the importance of how much this meant to me.

"I give you my word, that as long as I live, nothing will happen to your family," He swore, and I could just feel his eyes staring into mine. So much so that for the first time since he put that helmet on, I knew where his eyes were.

"I trust you. And I know that you'll always keep your word," I nodded, a small smile finally forming on my face.

Since it got fairly quiet, and we were still entangled together, I scooted off of Din and opted instead to take the seat beside him.

"I should tell you some things before I go. I just don't want to leave anything unresolved," I admitted, and he stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I know this might sound horrible, but I hated the idea of getting too close to you. It was like if I had formed an emotional bond with you, I wouldn't be able to leave anymore. And the last thing on my mind had been to stay. I've wanted freedom for a while now, I was just always too scared to say anything. And when my father told me that you and him had come to an agreement for arranging a marriage.... it's like it all became more real to me. My freedom would be taken in just days. The creed of mandalore is sacred, and it's truly an amazing thing... but it isn't for everyone."

He sat and took everything in. All the words that just spewed from my mouth like I had been holding them in for ages went against everything I had ever learned. Everything that had ever been put into my mind was the opposite of what I wanted.

"You're young. You want more than what the creed can offer you. I think you'll be able to find what you want wherever you're going," He said, I knew there was more, for he didn't even mention anything that I had said about not wanting to be close to him, but when he stayed silent, I knew he was finished, and that I still had more to say.

"Din, I wanted to tell you that if I had to be married, I wouldn't have minded it being you," I admitted. I would leave no stone unturned before I was to just pick up and leave forever... maybe not forever, maybe someday I would return to my family, to Din.

"I can't say I don't feel the same," He seemed to become stiff next to me, but I soon found the reason when he suddenly reached for my hand with his gloved one.

I took it proudly, intertwining our finhers together.

"You know, I was only an eight year old kid when you took the creed. I have so many memories of you yourself, but whenever I recall them... I can't see your face. I've completely forgotten what you look like," I laughed a bit, though it was quite a sad thing actually. I could not remember him in a way that wasn't covered in metal. I remembered that he was a boy once, and that he would play with all the younger children in the clan set next to his. He played with me and the kids I lived next to. He was a lively, energetic boy. Always doing something... sometimes causing mischievous acts. He was so different now. But the change wasn't bad. Since he'd taken the creed he has been the most noble, fearsome, and trustworthy member of his clan. Completely honorable in every sense of the word.

"I don't look like I used to. It wouldn't do you any good to remember anyways," He chuckled under his helmet, and it brought a smile to hear the melodic sound.

"Well, if I'd stayed long enough to marry you I would find out for myself," I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling comfort by his presence. If I had made the absolute decision to leave this planet earlier, I could have let myself grow a relationship with him. Romantic or not, he was easy to talk to, and I trusted him. He was a friend to me, and I never imagined more, but now his presence was just something that put me at such ease.

"Do you think you'll ever come back?" He pondered, seeing as just the tiniest moonrays shown down into the canyon ahead.

"Someday. I'll comeback and repay you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life," I replied. My attempt to throw my own life away had been pushed away but I had to bring it up. I owed him my life.

"Anyone would have done the same if they had seen," He insisted, and I shook my head.

"How did you even know I was out here?" My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked for an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep, I took a walk through Ronion until I found myself here. I saw you across from the mesa on the south side... I saw you lift your foot over the edge, I knew what you were trying to do," He said, his grip on my hand got tighter almost instantly.

"Thank you. If you hadn't been there, I would be at the bottm of this canyon." I let so much seriousness onto my voice, and it didn't sound like me.

"Don't thank me yet... not until I get you on the tarmac,"

We sat in silence after that, just looking out over the horizon. When the slightest bit of light hit the edge of the planet, we stood to our feet, gathering my knapsack and begining the journey to the north delivery tarmac.

We were there in no time, and before I could even look for them, Merc and his crew were in sight. They were all sitting with their backs against some cargo imports, waiting for the transport to arrive.

"Well, well, well... look at what the shriek hawk dragged in," Shyloh said, gesturing to me and Din.

"Djarin, I didn't expect to see you here," Merc raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"I'm just here to make sure she gets onto the transport safely," He assured them. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and in the brighter horizon I was able to see a cargo ship coming into the landing area.

"Our rides here," I said, and they all jumped up. Since the ships were automatically run, and don't even require droids, it was often very easy to hop aboard and be carried to another destination. Of course, there were only a few who ever wanted to leave.

I myself hadn't ever left Mandalore, neither had I traveled much even on the planet. Only a few trips to visit the the markets with my father. I never even went into the city, for it was told that in the city lived Mandalorians who did not keep the creed. The tribes were convinced that they hadn't actually ever taken the oath, and just wore the armor for the sake of doing it.

The ship's doors opened, pulling me out of my thoughts, and a conveyer belt folded down to let the cargo units be carried out onto the tarmac for later pickup.

"Alright, it's time to head out," Gander said, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and boarding the transport.

The rest followed after him, but I still had one thing left to do.

Din looked at me, waiting for me to join the others, but I came close to him one last time.

"You promise my family will be taken care of?" I asked, to which he simply answered with a firm nod. However the look on my face gave him reason to believe that his answer wasn't good enough, so he spoke instead.

"I give you my word. If they are not taken care of, I will let you strike me dead where I stand."

That was good enough for me. He truly meant it. He was a man of his word.

I pulled his head toward mine, resting ny forehead against his in a traditional mandalorian kiss. I pulled back when I heard my name being called from the transport.

"Goodbye, Din Djarin," I told him.

He didn't respond, he just let me go, watching intently as I boarded the ship before the doors closed.

The cargo transports were always on schedule, so as soon as the doors closed, it began lifting into the air. I looked out through the transparent view finder on the side, watching him stand as we began moving out of sight.

"You gonna miss him?" Shyloh asked, his brows furrowing as if he were sorry for me.

"Yes, I suppose I will."

I lost sight of Din, and realized we were leaving the atmosphere most likely preparing for a jump to hyperspace.

"But I'll see him again."

Tags are open ig...

A/n: please don't get too caught up in the age gap y'all it's just for backstory purposes because this story is eventually going to follow canon events.... (also i know that this doesn't really portray Mandalore correctly, but let's pretend it does because i had this idea)

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x oc #din djarin x jedi!reader #cassian andor #luke skywalker #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #rough day #din djarin series #din djarin imagine #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years

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MY DEAR WIFE. I DESIRE A SEQUEL TO THE JIMMY EMPIRE FIC. I MADE THIS TUMBLR ACCOUNT TO MAKE MY DEMANDS. NOW GO BE FREE. WRITE YOU FANTASTIC FANFIC WRITER YOU. -BEST SPOUSE, PURP <3

this was a popular request LMAO :D

here’s the first part

…

The ringing of her communicator wakes Lizzie up late in the night. Blinking herself awake, she quickly answers it, speaking quietly so as to not awaken her sleeping fiance next to her. “Hello?”

“Lizzie, it’s Pixl,” comes the familiar British voice. “I’m so sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Lizzie says. “Is something wrong?”

“Something’s happened with Jimmy.”

Lizzie’s heart skips a beat. “Is he okay?”

“I’ll explain everything later but I could really use your help right now. Are you able to come to the Cod Empire?”

Momentarily forgetting that Pixl can’t see her, Lizzie nods. “Of course, I’ll come over right away.”

“Thanks so much, Lizzie,” says Pixl gratefully. “See you soon.”

“See you.”

Lizzie puts down her communicator and gets out of bed. Just as she’s finished changing, her fiance stirs in his bed and murmurs, “What’s going on? Who was that?”

“Pixl,” replies Lizzie softly, secretly glad he’s awake; she wouldn’t have woken him first. “Something’s happened to Jimmy, and Pixl needs me. You okay to come over to the Cod Empire with me?”

Joel sits up in his bed, immediately more awake. “Of course, of course. Let me get dressed.”

The two fly straight over to the Cod Empire and land outside Jimmy’s house. Pixl answers the door on the first knock. “Queen Lizzie, thank you for coming,” he says gratefully. “And King Joel.”

He leads them inside. Lizzie and Joel both gasp simultaneously as they spot Jimmy lying on the bed.

Joel freezes but Lizzie dashes to his side and grasps his hand, staring down in horror at the bruises covering Jimmy’s face. “Oh my goodness! What happened to him?! Is he okay?!”

Pixl joins her on Jimmy’s other side. “He’s recovering,” he responds grimly. “You know the demon Xornoth that’s shown their face around the server lately?”

“Heard of them.”

“fWhip and Sausage seem to be around the epicentre of the whole thing. They captured Jimmy, kept him in a cell for a whole day, beat him several times, then tried to sacrifice him to Xornoth. Scott and I managed to save him but he almost died from his injuries before Scott was able to heal him somewhat with magic.”

Lizzie gazes down at Jimmy with a worried expression, gently touching his face. He stirs slightly under her touch.

After a moment, she speaks again, her tone low and dangerous. “fWhip and Sausage, you said?”

Pixl nods. “Yeah. Scott and I chased them off but I’m a little worried about them returning to finish the job. That’s why I asked you over; I could do with some help protecting him. If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.” Lizzie retracts her hand and presses her fist into her palm. “Hell, if either of them show their faces around here, I’ll rip them apart with my bare hands.”

Now Joel moves closer to the bed, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Poor Jimmy… I can’t imagine how terrified he must’ve been.”

As Pixl opens his mouth to respond, another knock at the door sounds. The three frown at each other, trying to work out who could possibly be at the door.

After a moment, Pixl heads back over to the door and answers it. His gaze darkens when he sees who’s standing there. “You’re not welcome here.”

Lizzie stiffens as she hears MythicalSausage’s voice: “I just wanted to ask how Jimmy is. And to… apologise.”

“Apologise?!” Lizzie bursts out.

Joel draws Pixl out of the way as Lizzie storms to the door and shoves Sausage backwards. “You TORTURED my friend and you think you can just walk over here and APOLOGISE?!”

Sausage scrambles back as a furious Lizzie bears down on him. “I had nothing to do with hurting him! That was all fWhip!”

“YOU THINK THAT MAKES IT BETTER?!” Lizzie bellows.

She flings out her arms and manipulates the ocean water into grabbing hold of Sausage and bringing him closer to her. “ACK!” Sausage chokes, struggling uselessly. “LIZZIE!”

“I’m going to kill you, Sausage,” growls Lizzie. “Would you rather be flung high into the air and fall to your death or drowned in salty ocean water?”

“N-Neither!”

A dark smile appears on Lizzie’s face. “Too bad. I’ve decided I’m gonna drown you.”

She lifts the water higher. His scream is abruptly cut off as the water envelopes his head, stopping him from breathing. She watches with satisfaction as his air slowly runs out.

But then Pixl’s voice comes from behind her: “Lizzie, he’s calling for you. He needs you.”

Lizzie pauses, weighing up her options. Eventually, she releases Sausage onto the dock, taking grim pleasure in the way he splutters and coughs up water. “You’re lucky this time, Sausage,” she says. She kneels down beside him and pushes her face close to Sausage’s with a menacing glare. “But if you ever, and I mean EVER, come near Jimmy again, you’re gonna wish you were never born. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Y-Yes!” gasps Sausage.

Lizzie steps back and lets Sausage flee, before rushing back inside and back to Jimmy’s side. Her ally is stirring, his eyelids fluttering. “L-Lizz...ie…”

“I’m here,” whispers Lizzie softly, holding his hand against her cheek to reassure him of her presence. “I’m here, Jimmy. Are you okay?”

Jimmy coughs weakly. “M-My wrists hurt.”

Frowning, Lizzie pushes down Jimmy’s sleeve, revealing the thick red marks. “Wh-What is this?!” she gasps. “Pixl?”

“It’s…” Pixl hesitates, knowing what his next words will likely cause. “They’re burn marks. He had his hands tied behind his back for most of the day in that cell.”

Joel glances sharply at his fiancee. “Uh oh.”

Thunder sounds overhead as dark clouds rapidly slide across the sky. Lizzie’s expression remains steady, but lightning flashes in her eyes. “I’ll be right back, Jimmy,” she says, her voice as steady as her expression. But it’s just an act for Jimmy’s benefit and both Pixl and Joel know it.

Neither Pixl nor Joel stop her as she storms out of the hut and takes off flying towards the Grimlands. She lands atop the outer wall, rain starting to fall from the sky.

“FWHIP!” she bellows, her voice rolling through the clouds and echoing across the land.

Seconds later, the count himself appears atop his tower, within audible distance despite the increasingly loud thunder overhead. “Queen Lizzie!” He spreads his arms wide. “How may I help you?”

A bolt of lightning strikes the very top of fWhip’s tower.

“Aha, what have I done to invoke the wrath of the Ocean Queen?” fWhip laughs.

Instead of replying verbally, Lizzie lifts her arms and summons a giant wave of water from the river, sending it crashing down like a tsunami over the Grimlands.

“NO!” fWhip yells. “My villagers! You’re gonna drown my villagers!”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU TORTURED JIMMY AND TRIED TO MURDER HIM!” roars Lizzie.

fWhip stares at her for a moment as he finally remembers that Lizzie is one of Jimmy’s closest allies. “...oh…”

Shaking himself into action, fWhip dives down into his flooded village. Lizzie watches him, taking grim satisfaction in watching him flounder around in desperation. She doesn’t even realise how close he is to death until-

fWhip drowned

Lizzie quickly dissipates the flood and jumps down to look for fWhip’s items. As she’s starting to pick them up, fWhip reappears, so she retreats back to a safe distance.

“I’ll get my revenge for this, Ocean Queen,” growls fWhip. “I will not take the attempted murder of my villagers lying down.”

“I don’t give a crap,” Lizzie snaps back. “Don’t you dare think about going near Jimmy ever again, because if you do, I can promise you I will wipe your goddamn empire off the face of the world and I will NOT regret doing it.”

fWhip narrows his eyes. “You’re messing with the wrong empire. I too have the power to wipe an empire out of existence.”

“I live in the ocean. The bulk of my empire is underwater now. Your TNT will make a scratch at most.”

fWhip’s mouth opens, then closes again. After a moment, he looks away. “Fine.”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re backing down that easily?”

“I’m being smart. You’ve no idea what’s coming, Lizzie. I do. I need to prepare. I can’t afford to be dragged into another war right now.”

As fWhip turns, he finds Lizzie extremely close to him. She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him close so that their faces are inches apart. “Then don’t start one,” she snarls. “Stay away from my allies.”

She shoves fWhip away and takes off again, flying back to the swamp. Part of her feels bad at the attack on fWhip’s innocent villagers but she pushes it aside. fWhip tortured Jimmy and was perfectly willing to slaughter him when he was tied up and defenceless.

Lizzie has no sympathy or mercy for a person like that.

When she gets back, Joel meets her at the door. “Lizzie, you’re back!” he gasps. “I saw the death message in chat.”

“Yes. fWhip needed to be told that I won’t tolerate him hurting my Jimmy.” Her gaze flickers from Joel to Pixl and back again. “Or any of you.”

Joel gazes at her with almost visible hearts in his eyes. “I love you so much, Lizzie.”

Lizzie can’t help a chuckle. “I love you too.”

“Guys, guys, come quick!” Pixl calls suddenly. “Guys!”

The two quickly rush to Jimmy’s beside but stop dead simultaneously when they see what Pixl is so panicked about.

A mark has appeared on Jimmy’s neck. It looks like some kind of rune, but what’s worrying about it is the fact that it’s glowing red.

“What is this?” Lizzie gasps. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know! It just appeared!”

After a few seconds, the glowing dies down, leaving only the clear black mark.

“This has got to be something to do with the demon,” says Pixl shakily. “I don’t know what or how or why, but somehow, fWhip and Sausage’s attempted sacrifice of Jimmy must’ve caused this.”

“But what can we do about it?” Joel asks. “What can we do to help?”

Pixl has no answer to this.

Nobody does.

#empires smp #pixlriffs #ldshadowlady #solidaritygaming #smallishbeans #fwhip #mythicalsausage #vaunna’s requests

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 4

A/N: what's this? jimmy may be finally leaving denial station? and gray-aroace jimmy because i said so? hell yeah. also more seablings pog!! i do also have the next chapter written already bc it has one of the scenes that was basically the whole reason i wrote this fic, but i'm gonna wait until tomorrow to post it (mostly bc i wanna make sure i have the chapter after that one written bc of... reasons >:) the next chapter is a tad cliffhanger-y and i just don't want y'all to have to wait too long)

Warnings: teasing/banter, flirting, realization of feelings

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The invitation for the House Blossom Ball arrived, with a separate handwritten note along with it from Katherine that very pointedly reminded Jimmy to dress up and maybe lose the cod head. Something about how it wasn’t “fancy enough” or whatever. Jimmy felt the cod head was acceptable for any occasion, not to mention he felt weird with his whole head being in view- but maybe he could compromise for Katherine. He’d have to figure out some sort of other headpiece… but the ball wasn’t for a few days anyway. Jimmy had plenty of time to figure out an outfit. In the meantime, he had some work to do on his slime farm. And of course, who else should be there but Scott when Jimmy came up from his farm. He was sitting on the roof of the slime farm entrance, legs swinging idly.

“What are you doing here,” Jimmy asked with a tired sigh, really hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with another fight with Scott. Scott hopped down from the roof, gliding a bit before landing in front of Jimmy.

“Oh same as always, I was bored and you’re fun to bother,” Scott said with a shrug and a playful grin. Jimmy glowered at him, putting his hands on his hips.

“Oh no, not today! I’m not letting you get under my skin anymore!” Jimmy said, determination in his tone. Scott raised an eyebrow as his grin morphed into a smirk, and there was that squirming, fluttery feeling from their fight again.

“Are you sure about that?” Scott crooned, a clear challenge in his voice. Jimmy shut his eyes, taking a deep breath before shifting his expression into something more neutral.

“Absolutely,” he said firmly, walking past Scott towards his base. Scott seemed surprised for a moment, before getting his bearings and following after Jimmy.

"Not even over this?" Scott asked, walking beside Jimmy and tossing something green up in the air before catching it again. Jimmy stopped walking, brows furrowed in confusion. Scott stopped too, looking him in the eyes as he tossed the object again- a slimeball.

"How- where- when did you- where did you get that from?!" Jimmy demanded. The only way people got slime was from his empire.

“Got it from one of your chests- thought you wouldn’t mind,” Scott replied with a shrug, that smirk still irritatingly present on his face.

“I very much do mind! Give that back!” Jimmy demanded, lunging forward to try and grab the slimeball from his hand. Scott darted back, flapping his wings and sending a gush of wind to push Jimmy back.

“You’re gonna have to catch me, fish boy,” Scott teased, before taking off into the sky. Jimmy grit his teeth in frustration.

“I’m the Codfather!” he protested, equipping his elytra and taking off after Scott. Scott laughed, dipping and twirling in the sky while Jimmy struggled to keep up. Going after someone who had actual wings while Jimmy only had an elytra was a definite disadvantage, but Jimmy was a little too stubborn to care. Scott climbed higher into the sky with ease, Jimmy following close after- and then the sun hit Scott’s wings and Jimmy just about fell out of the sky. The sun’s rays caught the gold tips of his wings, making them shimmer. But it wasn’t just the sunshine reflecting off his wings- it was the way Scott’s whole face seemed to shine like the sun with his smile and how the wind ruffled his usually neat hair. It was how his laugh sounded as if the shimmering of gold made a sound. It was how those icy blue eyes sparkled with mirth as he held the slimeball victoriously above his head. It was how Scott’s expression suddenly melted from that of a mischievous trickster to something almost fond. All of those things caused that pleasant flip-flopping feeling in his stomach to return, and Jimmy suddenly pitched down because of it. He quickly righted himself, flushing in embarrassment and glaring at Scott’s resulting smirk.

“Guess you aren’t one of those flying fish, huh,” he teased.

“Just give me the slimeball back!” Jimmy demanded. Scott laughed, and it felt like flowers blooming in Jimmy’s chest.

“You get so fussed over the littlest of things,” he said, still laughing. Jimmy got the feeling that he should have been angry at Scott’s teasing, he was making fun of him, after all! But instead, Jimmy couldn’t help but smile back. To Jimmy’s surprise, Scott seemed startled by that, eyes going wide and a half gasp, half laugh escaping his lips.

“Sometimes you gotta appreciate the little things in life! You miss those things when you fly above everything and live up and away from the world in the mountains,” Jimmy pointed out with a laugh. Scott pondered this, slowly floating back to the ground as he did so. Jimmy tilted his head to the side in confusion, coming to a landing beside him. Scott was staring at the slimeball in his hands with a mix of wonder and bafflement. Shaking his head, Scott reached out for Jimmy’s hand and pressed the slimeball into it, both hands clasping over Jimmy’s hand for a moment. Jimmy’s hand felt fever-warm at Scott’s touch, and his heart hammered in his chest.

“You can have this back. Sorry,” Scott said, quickly withdrawing his hands. Jimmy felt horrible instantly, he clearly struck a nerve with what he said. Before Scott got a chance to leave, Jimmy quickly grabbed his hands, giving the slimeball back.

“Keep it, I’ve got plenty. You- you should enjoy the little things in life too,” Jimmy said softly. Scott’s face tinged pink, all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“I- whatever,” Scott scoffed, trying to bring it back to their teasing back and forth from before, but failing miserably. Before Jimmy had a chance to reply, Scott drew his hands back, holding the slimeball close to his chest and taking off into the sky. This time around, Jimmy didn’t bother chasing after him. He was a little too busy wondering what on earth had just happened. One moment Jimmy was irritated by Scott’s presence, and the next his heart felt all fluttery and he willingly gave him a commodity from his empire. What was happening to him?! Jimmy had a sneaking suspicion… but he had to talk to Lizzie or Joel first. He just had to be sure.

Jimmy flew to Lizzie’s empire, spotting her and Joel sitting together on one of her giant lilypads. They both looked at him with concern when he landed in front of them, out of breath. Lizzie was the first to jump to her feet, hands reaching out towards him and searching for any injuries. Joel followed after her and hovered at her side, looking unsure of what to do.

“What happened?! Are you hurt, were you attacked?!” Lizzie demanded, and Joel’s eyes shot to the skies as he put a hand on the hilt of his sword. Jimmy laughed, shaking his head.

“Guys, I’m fine! See, look! I’m all good. Just had to see you,” Jimmy said, holding his arms out to show that he was, in fact, uninjured. Lizzie and Joel breathed out a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“Oh thank goodness. Usually when you fly to one of us in a panic, you’re hurt or being chased, or something’s seriously wrong,” Joel said, the tension draining from his shoulders and hand dropping from the hilt of his sword. Jimmy’s smile turned sheepish.

“Well… something… might be wrong. But there’s something I’ve gotta ask you guys first,” Jimmy replied nervously. Lizzie and Joel exchanged confused glances. Lizzie stepped closer, putting a comforting hand on Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Of course, you can ask us anything,” she said softly. Jimmy took a deep breath, working up the nerve to say it.

“How did you know you were in love?” he asked timidly. Lizzie blinked in surprise, and Joel raised an eyebrow.

“Is this about Scott?” Joel asked. Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“Please just answer the question,” he muttered. Thankfully, Joel didn’t seem to be in a teasing mood, and neither did Lizzie.

“For me it was her smile. Gave me butterflies the first time I saw it,” Joel said, unabashedly gazing at Lizzie. She giggled, and Joel’s fond expression increased tenfold.

“Butterflies?” Jimmy asked, a bit confused by the turn of phrase.

“You know, when your stomach gets all squirmy, but not in a bad way? Like a bunch of butterfly wings flapping inside you,” Joel explained, and Jimmy was hit with a sudden burst of clarity. Something in his expression must have shown it, because Lizzie gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“You’re telling me that’s what love feels like? It’s that just… all the time?” Jimmy asked, his voice a little hollow with disbelief. At himself mostly, for not realizing it sooner. To be fair, he didn’t feel those sorts of feelings often. In fact, he felt it almost exclusively with Scott. So to realize this whole time what he had really been feeling wasn’t just hatred or irritation… he felt a little silly.

“Well, it’s not always like that, sometimes being around someone you love just makes you feel warm and cozy,” Lizzie added.

“Well… but I feel warm and cozy all the time with you guys!” Jimmy protested, still trying to deny that feeling just a little bit longer. Lizzie smiled, patient and understanding.

“Yes, but with this… hypothetical someone, it’s different, isn’t it,” she gently prodded. Jimmy finally gave in. It was different with Scott, and that honestly terrified him. He’d never felt this way about anyone, ever.

“Oh my god, I like him,” Jimmy breathed.

“About time you figured it out,” Joel muttered. Lizzie moved her hand from Jimmy’s shoulder to swat Joel’s arm. Jimmy was too busy having a bit of an existential crisis to really care.

“Oh my god I really like him. This whole time- but Scott hates me, what on earth am I supposed to- but he seemed kind of nice today…” Jimmy trailed off, beginning to pace back and forth. Lizzie gasped in excitement, rushing over to stand in front of Jimmy and grabbing his shoulders.

“You saw him today?! Tell. Me. Everything!” she demanded. Jimmy let out a sheepish laugh.

“Nothing really happened! He stole a slimeball from me, I chased him a bit in the sky- and oh god he was gorgeous in the sunlight- and then I said something to make him sad and let him keep the slimeball anyway. I- wow I really didn’t like seeing him sad,” Jimmy rambled, a disbelieving smile growing across his face. Joel made a mock-disgusted face.

“I think I liked it better when Jimmy was in denial, he’s getting all mushy now,” he teased. Lizzie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, being mushy is a good look on you,” she insisted, getting a laugh out of Jimmy.

“I’m glad you think so, but maybe Joel is right. Cause now all I can think about is how Scott definitely doesn’t feel the same way,” Jimmy said with a sigh. A determined look came across Lizzie’s face, and distantly Jimmy was a little terrified.

“Oh no, you’ve activated her plotting look,” Joel said with the same distant terror that Jimmy was feeling.

“The ball is the perfect time to change Scott’s mind and show him that you are a catch, you’ve said so yourself,” Lizzie explained with a grin.

“Oh no, that is not happening, I just want the ball to be something fun, I don’t wanna make a scene,” Jimmy protested, but it came out a little weak.

“Us? Make a scene? Never. I was just thinking that we make sure to get you a snazzy outfit!” Lizzie said, and while Jimmy didn’t trust her for a second, he could concede that Lizzie had a better sense of style than he did.

“Oh, alright. As long as it’s just that,” Jimmy said firmly.

“Of course!” Lizzie said, far too innocently. Jimmy just chuckled and shook his head.

“And we should probably do something fancier than the cod head,” Joel added. Jimmy sighed, putting a hand over the cod head.

“Yeah, yeah, Katherine mentioned that too,” Jimmy said with a pout.

“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands!” Lizzie chirped, releasing Jimmy’s shoulders to instead grab his arm and pull him to where she and Joel had been sitting, rambling about outfit ideas all the while. Jimmy couldn’t help but smile and be a tiny bit hopeful. Maybe wearing something nice would catch Scott’s eye… but then what? Happily ever after? Was that how love even worked? Whatever the case, he was sure Lizzie would have a plan for that too. And maybe the ball could be the start of something beautiful.

Taglists below! Ask me to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #ldshadowlady #smallishbeans #flower husbands #seablings #empires smp fic #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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blurglesmurfklaine · 3 years

Text

Thanks for the Doritos!

Pairing: Klaine | Rating: T | Words: 1,410 | Tropes/Genres: BabBoy!Blaine, humor, friends to lovers, crime

Summary: Kurt and BadBoy!Blaine try to lift some chips from the local convenience store. Things don't go exactly as planned.

A/N: did i proofred this? no <3 i was anxious about my first day back at work and wrote this instead sorry not sorry Based on this this batshit tumblr post that gives me ALL the serotonin warnings for a non-canon character holding a gun and crime ig

Continue Reading Below or Read on AO3

“This is stupid. It’s not gonna work.”

“How would you know? We haven’t even tried it.”

“I feel like there’s a better way to satiate your case of the munchies than shoplifting from a Seven-Eleven.”

“The clerk gets paid the same whether or not the bastard CEOs of the company lose a couple of bucks. Unless you’ve magically conjured up a wad of cash?”

“You know I haven’t.” Kurt almost growls. Blaine doesn’t mean it that way, but they’ve had enough conversations about Burt’s medical bills that he should know tight money is a sensitive topic for Kurt. The defensive fire in his belly dies down a little when Blaine reaches out to squeeze his hand—his free one holding his trusty skateboard—reminding Kurt he’s not alone in his suffering.

Until meeting Blaine, Kurt would spend his afternoons at home, with nothing except reruns of Golden Girls to keep him company while he prepared his dad’s dinner.

And then one cold October afternoon, while Kurt was hiding from Karofsky and Azimio under the bleacher, he nearly tripped over a mass of black clothing. The bundle of black subsequently sat up, revealing a head of unkempt curls and a disgruntled snarl that softened into a smirk upon seeing Kurt’s face.

He offered Kurt a cigarette, his hand, and his name.

Ever since then, Blaine has shown Kurt in numerous ways that you don’t need to do anything to have a good time. All you need is a roof, the night, and two people who, for some reason neither can quite explain, care about each other.

“Don’t act so high and mighty, Hummel. We both know you’re no stranger to theft.”

“I’ve never stolen a thing in my life!”

Blaine looks over and makes a dramatic pouty face, complete with pleading puppy-dog eyes that make Kurt’s knees too weak for his liking. “Tell that to my weeping heart. I’m still picking up the pieces from you refusing my several offers of marriage.”

Kurt’s face burns red and he huffs, yanking his hand away. Blaine always does this. Ruins the moment with some dramatic, over-the-top fake flirting, as if he doesn’t know what he looks like—as if he doesn’t know Kurt’s head over heels for one of McKinley High’s most notorious bad boys. For God’s sake, he’s about to commit a misdemeanor just to get him a couple of bugles. Of course he’s in love with Blaine.

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

“As you wish.”

Kurt walks in first, gives a friendly smile and half-wave to the cashier before heading to the chip aisle. He loiters there for a minute or two before Blaine walks in, heading straight to the counter where he’ll pretend to be looking for a specific cigarette brand he can’t remember the name of.

The second the clerk has his back turned, Kurt ducks to the ground and rips open his backpack, quickly and quietly throwing an assortment of chips in, only pausing when he grabs a bag of Doritos. A smile cracks his face; they’re Blaine’s favorite.

He’s so preoccupied with putting extra ones in there, that he doesn’t even hear the ding from the bell of the front door.

The way Blaine will tell the story to Kurt later that night—and to others for years to come—he’ll say that the first thing he saw was the barrel of a shotgun sticking up above the stand of newspapers by the entrance, and that’s all it took for him to rush to Kurt’s side.

Kurt’s zipping up the backpack when there’s a familiar hand on his shoulder, and Blaine’s panicked face in front of his.

“Guy with a gun just walked in,” he exhales in a terrified breath.

Kurt’s eyes go wide as dinner plates, and although the shouting he can hear coming from the front of the store confirms it, he still can’t believe it. “There’s—what!?” he whisper-shouts. Almost instinctively, he tries to stand up to look over the aisle, but Blaine drags him back down.

“Get down!”

“Oh fuck,” Kurt cries, adrenaline spiking when he hears the robber’s angry shouts of curse words and demands of money. “We have to do something.”

Blaine nods, and his immediate agreement makes Kurt fall that much more in love with this idiot. “He can’t see us here. I’ll stay here, you go to the next aisle over. I’ll create a distraction, and I need you to—god, Kurt, if anything happens to you,” he places a tan hand in Kurt’s pale face, and the warmth makes Kurt gasp, “I need you to leave okay? Don’t you dare wait for me. Call the cops when you’re out.”

“But I—”

“Call the cops.”

There’s no time to argue, so Kurt just nods and hurriedly crouches his way to the right, until he’s in the aisle out of the robber’s eye line, but can still see him.

A second later, he hears Blaine’s skateboard collide with the metal of the counter and figures that’s his cue to run.

Now’s his chance to run straight out of the convenience store, like Blaine told him to. Like he most certainly should… but the robber’s turning towards the chip aisle, where Blaine is. The robber is turning to the chip aisle where Blaine is and has a fucking gun, and after months of overthinking this thing he has with Blaine—a friendship, but also implicitly more—Kurt doesn’t think at all.

With the robber’s back to him, Kurt breaks out into a sprint and tackles the lanky man to the floor.

Kick knacks, candies, and various other impulse buy items go flying as Kurt messily pins the disoriented thief to the floor in front of a large metal stand full of cookies.

Blaine comes from the other side, seemingly out of nowhere and frozen momentarily in shock. Through magic, some sort of telepathic bond, or sheer luck, he manages to read Kurt’s mind and as soon as Kurt scrambles off the man, heaves the metal stand on top of the assailant.

They share a wide-eyed look of panic, an unspoken agreement, before bolting out.

Blaine hops over the groaning robber to the previous aisle, to pick up his skateboard. Meanwhile, Kurt’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he locates the rifle, still alarmingly close to the robber’s hand.

It won’t even register until about an hour later that holy fucking shit he was holding a loaded gun, but for now he grabs it and runs towards the door, shoving it into the clerk’s hands before lining up with Blaine, skateboard and backpack in hand.

The clerk looks at them with equal parts shock and gratitude, before turning the rifle on the robber to ensure he doesn’t try to escape.

As the two boys race out the door, Kurt tosses out a “Thanks for the Doritos!” to the clerk.

They don’t stop running for a solid minute, but when they do Kurt’s hamstrings are burning and his lungs are on fire, throat sore from breathing in the cold air too quickly.

Hands on his knees and still panting, he looks at Blaine. “Oh, my god.”

Blaine looks up at him from a similar position, breaking out into a wide, beaming grin that morphs into a fit of laughter. “We just did that.”

“That was reckless,” Kurt says, astonished for a moment before joining Blaine in his laughter.

Laughter slowly dying down into chuckles, Blaine stands up straight and cups Kurt’s cheeks in his palms.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly, hints of laughter still lighting up his voice.

Before Kurt can throw his eyes back into his skull—because Blaine always says he loves Kurt, as a friend, of course—Blaine’s lips are on his, warm and solid against the cool autumn air and taking what little breath Kurt has away.

He’s a little more than speechless when they finally break apart. Blaine isn’t.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

“I… w-wait, so… this whole time… you weren’t fake flirting with me?”

“I mean, I might’ve been a little too playful with it, but I was hoping eventually you’d take the hint.”

“I… don’t do well with hints.”

“Alright, no more hints. In that case, can I just kiss you again?”

Kurt barely restrains a hiccuped little laugh. “You, Blaine Anderson, can kiss me anytime you’d like.”

And from that day on, he does.

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #wow look at me im writing!

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hillchill · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on ACS s03e02

Miscellanea in no particular order, there are minor spoilers.

Still not seeing anyone as their “real life” counterparts except Paulson

Nice to include a friend of Monica’s who warned her about not spilling the beans, it shows one can be a 20something and still have more foresight.

The thong episode seems toned down from what I remember from ML’s recounting. Did it happen like it’s shown here or not? We’ll never know

I don’t know what spin they wanted to give here, but even after various iterations trough the years of ML’s description of the events, with variations like framing them trough the lens of metoo and so on, at least here it’s made clear that Monica kinda took the first step (she declared a crush on WJC). I am yet to understand if they kinda conflated two events, because after ML’s declaration of her crush, we’re told they’ve kissed (I kinda seem to remember that in real life the pizza episode was the one when they first met/kissed? I might be wrong and at this point I don’t want to double check)

“Bill” seems a bit too forward in the first one on one meeting with ML, after she declares her crush on him. Idk, doesn’t ring 100% true

Nothing graphic is shown, but you see “ML and WJC” kiss

Betty Currie is some secondary character, when IRL she facilitated the meetings of ML e WJC and definitely knew what was going on. It has not been explored (yet)

The neckties ML gifted WJC are mentioned (as well as Leaves of Grass. Also, there’s a story where WJC says he saw the book two weeks prior to Election Day of 96? So that kinda makes me feel a little sick to my stomach, when it comes to the whole betrayal of trust from WJC towards HRC, because I always thought WJC was trying to leave ML at this point)

A clip of the Pride and Prejudice BBC miniseries is shown on TV in universe and has the getty images logo? this is a huge oversight for whomever put the series together!!!

I’ve already said you see ML and WJC kiss (twice), which apart from making me feel queasy, makes kinda clear they’re both into it and there’s no coercion

We’re shown a recreation of the ‘96 reelection fireworks hug between WJC and HRC: this is a clip that has been giffed lots here on tumblr or the piece of videohas been shown on here in its entirety and, let me tell you, in reality it was much more emotional and much more of a moment when WJC and HRC held onto each other in 96, than what’s been depicted in the series. If you remember, HRC had teary eyes. Here she is shown briefly in the background. It should’t surprise you I am not happy with this depiction.

I kinda understand why Paula Jones is pissed tbh: I have never heard her speak in depth, but her character seems kinda like a caricature. Also, she’s described by one of the people as “dumb as a rock”

Did ML really gift WJC a knicknack in the shape of a frog? That’s BAD if true, we know it’s HRC who gave him one, don’t know if he already had a collection in part or she was the one to start him collecting with her gift.

The fact WJC told ML she was like “The Face” on the show “Mike Hammer” because he’d see her everywhere he went, sounds like a subtle dig at ML to me... kinda gives you the impression ML was a bit obsessed and a smudge stalkerish

Did ML and Tripp really jot down an EXCEL SPREADSHEET (which is the most bored bureucrat but in-line-with-their-job thing to do), to document WJC’s and ML’s interactions?!

Edie Falco as Hillary makes me want to barf, especially in the scene that recreates the 1996 inaugural ball. There’s no chemistry as the two actors are dancing: they try to copy the whispering between WJC and HRC, but they didn’t capture their expressions of lovey-dovey bliss at all. Edie Falco’s face/expression in general is way harsher than HRC’s ever was and her whole presentation screams tacky, instead of the classiness that exhuded from Hillary that night. Honestly, so far we haven’t seen her much, but she might have already secured the spot of worst casting decision of this series.

Did Bill really whisper to Monica from the stage of the ‘96 Inaugural Ball that he liked the dress she was in? If so, i kinda feel a little sick, since he was there dancing with HRC and apparently being quite smitten with her. Guess we have to rewatch the ‘96 inaugural ball with a magnifying lens.

Delicate subject, but we need to talk about it: ML had a relationship with a guy when she was at the Pentagon. If I remember well he was in his 40s, she also fell pregnant and had an abortion... look, I don’t want to demonise anyone, but I think that knowing she was seeing someone else, instead of pining for WJC 24/7 when she was at the pentagon would be something to know, especially when the series has framed it like she was just doing the latter. Also, ML’s tendency to date much older guys, should showcase a pattern and therefore should be explored.

I really appreciate any comments, I feel like I am both indifferent to ACS, since it doesn’t seem remotely “them” (WJC, HRC, ML...) with regards to aspet/voice/mannerism, but I am also incredibly invested in knowing what was actually true and what have they toned up or down for the series.

#acs #american crime story #acs impeachment #american crime story impeachment #acs s03e02

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imagineteamfreewill · 3 years

Text

Here’s to Witches

Title: Here’s to Witches

Pairing: Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1,331

Warnings: None

Summary: Sam and the reader are each gifted something after saving a group of housewives on a hunt, and Sam’s gift is exponentially more... enthusiastic than the reader’s.

A/N: This is completely unedited, so please excuse any mistakes. If you see any glaring ones, please feel free to (politely) send me an ask or a message so I can go in and fix it. The gifs that inspired this fic can be found at the end because I thought they were too cute to not include. Also, feedback makes the world go round and makes my blog a lot more enjoyable for everyone! Please reblog this fic with your thoughts or send me an ask or a message to tell me what you think. Enjoy!

_______________

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this happy,” you said as you leaned against the dresser. The knobs dug into the small of your back and your shoulders but you ignored them as Sam looked up at you with a wide smile.

“I just can’t believe this is real,” he replied.

Bones jumped up on his hind legs, pushing himself slightly off the floor as he tried to regain Sam’s full attention. He succeeded and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way Sam raised the pitch of his voice to talk to his new—or rather, old—furry friend.

“You know, when the witch said she’d brought back someone dear to your heart, I figured we’d come back to the motel to find Bobby or something.”

Sam glanced up at you again, his smile undimmed. “I didn’t think it would be Bones either, but honestly…”

Smiling, you moved away from the dresser to see if your phone had regained some battery. It had died on the way back from the abandoned winery where the coven had been holding its meetings. Thankfully, you hadn’t needed it to call for help. The coven was more domestic than anything you’d ever encountered on a hunt; the witches mostly used their magic to bring dead houseplants back to life, get the smell out of laundry they’d forgotten in the washer, and thaw meat that they’d taken out of the freezer an hour or two too late. You’d been in the midst of trying to figure out how to ask them to stick with what they knew when the real troublemakers had shown up, figurative guns blazing, in an attempt to harm the housewives who were in almost too deep.

You and Sam had eradicated the bad witches with relative ease and the handful of women had been so grateful to you that they’d put their collective energies together to give you each a gift. They’d given you something you’d thought long gone—a box of photos from your childhood—and they’d promised Sam something “dear to his heart”.

After unlocking your phone, you quietly placed an order for a few pizzas, knowing that Sam was probably starving after the busy day you’d had. You were about to press the submit button when something bumped against your leg.

“I think he likes you,” Sam said, and you looked down to find Bones sitting at your feet. He was giving you a heart-warming doggy smile and his tail was going a mile a minute. It was almost comical how hard he was trying to sit despite the fact that his butt was wiggling right along with his tail.

You chuckled and crouched down to run your hand over Bones’ back. “Hey buddy! Are you hungry too? Is that why you came over here?” you cooed. Your voice jumped up an octave, just like Sam’s had, but Bones responded quickly and was up in your face as he tried to get as much of your attention and touch as possible.

Sam laughed too, standing up and stretching his arms above his head while he watched. He was clearly enjoying having Bones around and in the back of your mind, you sent up a silent prayer that this wasn’t a temporary thing. If Bones was ripped away from him, it would be a heartbreaking loss. Sam had already suffered so much and you wanted to ensure as much as you could that when he wasn’t on a hunt, he was happy and comfortable.

“You want some pepperoni, Bones? Huh?”

The dog yipped in response and you grinned, then stood. You quickly placed the order on your phone while Bones tried to get more attention from Sam.

“Pizza should be here in about an hour,” you said, and Sam nodded. “So what do we do now? Think Dean’ll be okay with Bones being at the bunker? And in the Impala, for that matter?”

Sam shrugged. Bones was standing on the bed now so that Sam could pet him without having to sit down or bend over.

“Okay, well maybe we should pick up supplies before we get back,” you suggested. “That way, Dean can’t say it would be easy to get rid of him. And we should probably make an appointment with the vet in town, too…”

You pulled out your phone again, but as you were starting to research the veterinarian offices in Lebanon, you felt Sam’s eyes on you. Slowly, you glanced up from your phone and met his gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Sam answered, shaking his head with a smile. “I’m just happy.”

“Okay… Weirdo.” You went back to the website. After another minute or two, you still felt Sam’s eyes on you and you sighed, dropping your hand down to your side so you could fully look at him. “What? Why are you staring at me, Sam?” The question came out with a laugh and Sam’s smile widened.

“I don’t know. I’m just… happy. I’m happy that you’re okay with this,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You love him and I think having a dog would be great.”

"Well I knew you liked dogs, but the last time we talked about getting one, you said that you didn’t think it would be a great idea. What changed?”

Shrugging, you tucked your phone in your pocket and went over to them, making sure to start petting Bones immediately so you wouldn’t get licked in the face again. You pointedly avoided making eye contact with Sam, instead focusing on the retriever who was practically vibrating with happiness at all the attention he was getting from the two of you.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you answered. “I guess it’s because I don’t want you to have to give him up, you know? I like to see you happy, and Bones makes you happy. He makes me happy, too,” you added, knowing that Sam would call you out on it if you didn’t.

Sam hummed in response, and the two of you continued to pet Bones in silence, only occasionally laughing or talking to the dog when it felt right.

An hour later, you were setting up the pizza while Sam took Bones outside for a break. The dog had come with his own collar—thank you, witches!—but he’d had to find a rope in the trunk of the Impala to use as a leash.

“It smells good!” Sam said as he opened the door and stepped inside. You glanced over at him with a smile, then laughed when you saw Bones pulling at the makeshift leash to get nearer to the table. When Sam dropped it, he made a beeline for the pizzas and you had to quickly shove him back down onto all four legs so that your dinner didn’t come with a side of dog hair.

“Whoa, buddy! Easy, calm down! You’ll get your dinner soon enough!”

Sam was grinning from ear to ear and you grinned back, feeling the contagious joy bubble up inside of you.

“Pepperoni?” he asked, and you nodded, grabbing the little container full of slices they’d included and holding it out for him. Bones tracked the movement intently and you laughed again as Sam grabbed it and pulled off the lid.

Instantly, Bones was sitting down, his tail wagging as he stared up at Sam.

“Well, at least he knows to sit,” you laughed. Sam laughed too, and soon the three of you were chowing down on your respective dinners.

We’re like a little family, you thought as you settled down beside Sam against the headboard. You’d both torn the top of the pizza boxes off so that the box was easier to hold in your lap, and he’d turned on a mindless movie while you’d made sure Bones had water.

“Here’s to happy endings,” Sam said, holding out his beer.

You clinked yours against it with a smile, then a quiet chuckle. “And here’s to witches, which is something I’d never thought I’d say!”

(Gifs are by @frodo-sam can be found here. I couldn’t find them in the tumblr gif search or I would have included them that way, sorry!)

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licieoic · 4 years

Photo

“Pour One Out” - Digital Oil Painting

Inspired by Suptober, theme: Pour One Out. Bartender/Patron AU! This one was actually inspired by a number of themes from Suptober including “Family Business” and “Favorite,” as shown in the ficlet below the cut. (It’s PG, though Dean is having some more adult oriented thoughts, LOL.)

Please see the pinned post at the top of my Tumblr for my links if you'd like to help support me in saving for a safe place to live!

“Hey.”

Looking up, Dean saw his brother, Sam, sticking his head into the brewing room. It had to be nearly time for his shift, he already had his abundant hair pulled back.

“Your favorite’s here,” he said.

Dean straightened up so fast, he nearly dropped the pitcher of beer he’d been pouring so carefully. “Trench Coat?” At least, that was the name he used with Sam; he didn’t want his brother knowing what he called the quiet man in his head. He’d never quite had the courage to ask the man’s actual name and since Winchester Bros was cash only, he couldn’t sneak a look at a credit card either. He’d considered asking for his ID, as that was perfectly acceptable in a bar, but since he was clearly over legal drinking age it would just make Dean look like he was stupid or an ass.

“Usual spot,” Sam answered before popping back into the main area of the bar.

He got up close to the shiny brewing vat in front of him and tried to check his appearance, but the metal didn’t make for a good mirror and left him looking deformed. Damn… He hoped there was nothing to worry about, like food in his teeth or crustiness in the corners of his green eyes, and that his light brown hair was just the right amount of tousled, leaning more toward ‘I woke up like this’ and less like ‘I use a lot of product.’ Then he reached into the pocket of his apron for the breath mint he always kept there, on the chance that his favorite patron would stop by.

It was easy to remember the first time he’d ever seen him, he doubted he would ever forget. Five months after he and Sam had opened the bar, they’d had to strike a deal with the Devil (Dean’s private name for their wealthy investor, Crowley) in order to save it from going under. It had always been their dream to start up a family business and they’d each quit lucrative careers (Dean as a mechanic, Sam as a lawyer) to open Winchester Bros. It had taken every penny of their life savings to do it, they just couldn’t give up so soon.

Pride still smarting with the knowledge that they’d be under Crowley’s thumb for the foreseeable future, Dean hadn’t exactly been the friendliest bartender that night. After being short with a small bachelorette party, Sam told him to concentrate on the solo patrons at the bar who usually weren’t the chatty types and leave the groups to him. Dean hadn’t argued, they needed as much patronage as possible, he could ill afford to turn what could be repeat customers into people who never came back just because he was in a mood.

Down at the far end of the bar, he saw a man with dark, messy hair hunched over the bar. He wore a slightly dirty trench coat over a deep navy suit and had a five o’clock shadow darkening his jawline. All in all, a fairly standard-looking barfly, if he were judging a book by its cover. Dean leaned both hands on the bar and tried not to sound too brusque as he asked, “What can I get you?”

Then the man looked up… and Dean forgot everything. He was lost in the bluest eyes ever to blue, bluer than the tie hanging crooked from the man’s neck. Dean’s mouth might have gone slack, he wasn’t sure. They were like angel’s eyes, almost too pretty to be real.

“I don’t know,” said the man, immediately dubbed Angel Eyes. He seemed kind of down, but that wasn’t unusual for a lone bar patron. “Do you have a menu?”

“W-we do,” said Dean, pulling over the list printed on laminated cardstock once he remembered how to speak. The line at the top read ‘Winchester Brews,’ which he’d thought damn clever at the time, now he worried it was corny. “Ahem… Everything on offer is brewed in-house, plus I can make you just about anything you like.”

“Anything, huh?” He looked at the menu, but didn’t really seem to be reading it. “I don’t know,” he said again, “surprise me?”

Something was really bothering this man, Dean could tell, his bartender instincts were jangling like crazy. His bi-dar, however, was all over the place. He never had a problem flirting with the ladies who came in, but it was always hard to tell if he was clear to make a pass at a man. That kind of thing could get dangerous, depending on who it was and what kind of attitude they had.

“Surprise you,” Dean repeated, reaching below the bar for a tumbler which he filled with a few ice cubes. “Well, you look like a man of… discerning tastes.” He followed this with a wink to test the waters. To his delight, Angel Eyes smiled. And Dean’s heartbeat doubled. He turned around and took a surreptitious breath in an attempt to calm it down, but it didn’t work.

From the back shelf, he retrieved a bottle of whiskey with a simple handwritten label on the front that read ‘Winchester Special #5’ and turned back to face him. As he poured, Dean said, “This here is our monthly special.”

“What makes it special?”

“It changes every month,” said Dean. “Afterward, we add it to the list of brews. And if you can guess the flavor, the inspiration behind it… it’s on me.”

“Has anyone gotten it right yet?” It was the nineteenth, he’d assumed correctly that some people had already tried Dean’s challenge.

He shook his head. “Not quite.” Gesturing at the tumbler, he quirked a brow and asked, “Care to try?”

Angel Eyes picked up the glass and took a sip. He tilted his head, appearing thoughtful.

“So?” asked Dean when he didn’t get an immediate answer. “What’s it taste like to you?”

“Hmm. Molecules.”

Dean laughed outright and Angel Eyes grinned. “Well, you’re not wrong!” he exclaimed. “Molecules, heh, can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before, but is that your final answer?”

Swirling the ice in the glass, Angel Eyes took a longer pull, maintaining eye contact with Dean as he rolled the whiskey slowly over his tongue. Dean’s mouth went dry as he watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallowed. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and those bluer than blue eyes followed the movement.

Angel Eyes clicked his tongue. “Blueberry…” he said, slowly. “But there’s something else… It’s sweet and… creamy?”

“No hints,” said Dean, but mentally he was cheering the man on, wanting him to make the right guess, and he was so, so close.

He took one last sip from the glass, finishing it off. “It’s good. I like it. It reminds me of a blueberry sour cream pie. Final answer.”

Dean grinned broadly. “We have a winner!”

He returned the smile with one of his own and it seemed like both of them had forgotten their problems prior to their meeting each other. “Really?”

Nodding, Dean poured him another. “On me. Since you’re the first correct guess.”

He picked up the tumbler and saluted Dean with it. “Cheers.”

Dean nodded, a little disappointed that he didn’t have an excuse to keep their conversation going, and turned to go back to work.

“Oh, and—”

Heart in his throat, he looked back. Angel Eyes hesitated.

“Thank you,” he said, finally. “This… really helped.”

“Yeah?”

He made a vague gesture. “I don’t want to get into it, I know bartenders aren’t therapists,” he said. “Just some family issues.”

Dean’s heart sank. He had a family. Of course he did. “Well, you’re not the first guy to come here to escape his wife for a while,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, I’m not married,” Angel Eyes said.

“Girlfriend?” came out of Dean’s mouth before he could stop himself.

He shook his head. “One of my brothers is constantly going through a rebellious phase. Our father isn’t happy about it.”

“Ohhhh, well, I can definitely understand annoying brothers,” said Dean, aiming his thumb at Sam who was down at the opposite end of the bar, and forcing himself to swallow down any follow-up questions. He’d already said he didn’t want to talk about it, Dean wanted to respect that. “You should bring your family around,” he said, smiling. “It’s easier to open up after a few, you know?”

Angel Eyes chuckled. “I’m not sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. Besides…” He thumbed the rim of his glass before glancing back up, hitting him with that blue gaze all over again. “I don’t know if I want them coming around here. Maybe I want to keep you all to myself.”

Any thoughts of pushing for more patrons to offset his and Sam’s massive debt had flown away. Dean could only nod like an idiot, he knew what the man meant, of course, but the unspoken implications in the statement were pinging around in his head like a super ball. He might have squeaked out an ‘okay’ or a ‘yeah’ as he headed back to work, he didn’t remember. He did remember almost tripping over his own feet and not looking back, knowing his face would be bright red. He pretended to not remember hearing another chuckle.

Since then, Angel Eyes came in at least once a week, always sat at the end of the bar, and always ordered the monthly special, even though he paid for each subsequent drink following his correct guess. He was never wrong about the flavor either, which amazed Dean, he even got the lemon meringue right. He’d been so sure that no one would get it – he’d heard lemon-vanilla, toasted marshmallow, all kinds of other things because who guesses ‘meringue’ for a whiskey anyway? Apparently, a man with gorgeous blue eyes in a slightly dirty trench coat. Three months in, he was the only person who’d figured out that Dean based all the specials on his favorite pies and it only made his guesses come that much quicker.

As he headed out to the front, he dropped off the pitcher of beer and grabbed #15 from the shelf. He almost couldn’t believe it had been ten months since his favorite patron had first come in. Tonight was the night, he resolved, he would ask for Angel Eyes’ actual name. Maybe in another ten months, he’d work up the courage to ask for his number. Dean internally rolled his eyes at himself. He was truly pathetic.

Angel Eyes perked up at the end of the bar the moment Dean emerged from the back, yellow light from a nearby neon sign on the wall reflecting off his dark hair, almost like a halo. They smiled at each other and Dean’s heart was immediately doing flips, seeing how obviously happy he was to see him. Could be the Crush Goggles, but still…

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Dean, filling the glass with ice and setting it down on the bar. “I was wondering when you’d be in to try the latest special.”

“I’m just hoping it isn’t Pumpkin Spice,” said Angel Eyes. Being that it was October, it was a fair comment. You couldn’t go ten feet without encountering something bearing that smell and/or flavor.

“I do like pumpkin pie,” said Dean, pouring the whiskey. “But I think it’s more of a November flavor.”

Dark brows lifted. “A hint? This is new. What did I do to deserve that?”

Dean laughed. “Maybe I’m in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Me too. It’s a good night.”

“Hopefully, about to be better,” said Dean, nodding at the glass.

“I don’t need to drink to have a good time,” he said, but picked up the tumbler all the same to have a sip.

“Your continued presence at my bar says otherwise,” said Dean.

Angel Eyes swallowed. “There are other reasons a person might come to a bar.”

“Such as?”

“Good ambience.” He took a longer sip and let his eyes wander over Dean before traveling back up as he swallowed. “I like the company.”

Dean hoped he wasn’t blushing but he couldn’t hold back a goofy smile. “You do get to meet all kinds of people in a place like this,” he said.

“Yes, though I was referring to one specific person.”

“Yeah?”

He finished the whiskey and set down the glass, meeting Dean’s eyes head-on. “Yes.”

Mouth dry, Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh…” He gestured at the tumbler. “Any guesses?”

“Maybe.” He trailed one finger around the rim of the glass. “If I pay for the drink, can I have something else as my prize? If I get it right, of course.”

“Uh.” He swallowed hard. “S-s-sure.” He could hardly manage the one word; he couldn’t even summon the brain power to ask what it was he wanted.

Smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Angel Eyes considered his answer. “This is a good one,” he said. “Definitely not pumpkin, but it has sweetness… and a note of tart as well.”

“Are you a sommelier?” Dean asked suddenly. “That would sure as hell explain a lot.”

He laughed, the bright sound so incongruous with his gravelly voice, it had quickly become one of Dean’s favorite things about him. So much so, that he would go out of his way to come up with a corny joke or allow himself to be a little clumsy, just for the chance to hear that laugh.

“No,” he said, still smiling. “Disappointed?”

“No. I just can’t figure out how you’re never wrong.”

“I haven’t made my guess yet,” he pointed out.

“And?”

Deliberately, he reached into his glass and retrieved a small ice cube. Before Dean knew what was happening, Angel Eyes was popping it into his mouth and sucking on it while he thought about what answer to give.

Guh. He has to be doing this on purpose! Dean thought. How does he make everything he does so sexy?

Still keeping eye contact with Dean, he bit down hard. Crunch! If he kept this up, Dean would need to run to the bathroom and readjust his jeans. To try and diffuse some of the tension in the air, Dean attempted to make a joke like he usually would.

“You, uh, you know what they say about people who chew their ice, don’t you?” he asked, almost tripping on his own tongue.

“No,” he said, to Dean’s surprise. “What do they say?”

Well, this backfired spectacularly, thought Dean. “They, uh… that they’re, well, you know…” Those clear blue eyes wouldn’t give him an inch, Angel Eyes sat patiently waiting to hear the punchline of Dean’s naughty joke like they were talking about the weather. He had no choice but to quietly stutter, “That they’re… s-s-sexually frustrated.”

“Oh.”

Really? That’s all you have to say, ‘oh’? thought Dean, incredulously. While he watched, Angel Eyes fished out another ice cube and crunched down on it viciously, all while holding Dean’s gaze, as if to punctuate his statement. Heat creeping up into his cheeks, Dean took a steadying breath. Curse blushing, he thought. Curse the noun, curse the verb, curse the act!

“H-have I finally stumped you?” Dean asked when his tongue decided to work again.

“Caramel apple rhubarb,” he said, definitively. “Final answer.”

“Damn!” exclaimed Dean, pounding one fist on the bar. “You did it again!”

All he did was smile in response, the handsome bastard. As he reached into his coat pocket, he casually remarked, “You know, your freckles disappear when you blush.”

He blinked. “They do?”

“Then I get to notice them all over again when they come back.” Retrieving his wallet, he pulled out a ten-dollar bill and placed it on the bar between them. “It’s what I’ve been calling you in my head all this time. Freckles.”

“Well, that’s kind of rude, how would you like it if my brother and I were calling you Trench Coat behind your back?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, good, because that’s totally what we’ve been doing.”

They snickered together.

“Out of curiosity,” said Dean, “what were you calling Sammy?”

“Manbun.”

Dean snorted. “I’m absolutely going to call him that.”

“So, his name is Sam? You don’t wear nametags, so I’ve only ever known your last name.”

“Nametags are lame.”

“They are. What’s your name, then?”

“Is this what you wanted instead of a free drink?”

“No, this is something I should have asked ten months ago.”

Fair point. Dean held out his hand. “Dean,” he said.

His fingers were cold from the ice but his palm was warm and smooth. “Castiel.”

“Wow.” It wasn’t a name he’d ever heard before; surprise mixed with his pleasure over finally learning the name of his long-held crush. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Not sure. Probably something anti-climactic, like Steve.” He picked up the ten with his other hand. “I’ll get you some change.”

Castiel tightened his grip when Dean would have let go. “Keep it,” he said. “Consider it a tip.”

“Okay,” Dean said, slowly, tucking the bill into his apron pocket.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” asked Castiel.

“No.”

He grinned and it put all of the smiles Dean had received before to shame. It held a hint of mischievousness as he said, “That’s what I want.”

“You-you want—what? D-dinner? W-with me?” Dean couldn’t quite believe his ears. He’d barely been able to hope for a first-name basis tonight, he couldn’t possibly be so lucky as to score a date. But then, considering they’d been dancing around each other for ten months, maybe Castiel thought if he didn’t make the first move, it would never happen.

Bringing up his other hand, Castiel sandwiched Dean’s between the two as he said, very deliberately, “I don’t believe I’ve guessed wrong.”

Dean could be pretty dense sometimes, but he knew unequivocally that Castiel wasn’t talking about the whiskey. “I’m off in half an hour,” he said, smiling like an idiot.

“I’ll be waiting… Freckles.”

Okay… so maybe blushing wasn’t such a bad thing.

345 notes · View notes

fuckyouquiznak · 3 years

Text

Dream's past

(pretty long but this is Tumblr, am I right?)

Puffy is the captain of a pirate ship and has two children, Cornelius and Tobias (yes Dream with horns is my kink + I am not over the name Cornelius Dream used during one of Karl’s tale).

Cornelius is the elder one, around six years older than Toby, and he loves the sea and the pirate life. He is a sunny kid, always smiling and telling jokes. Everybody in the crew loves him.

He and his mother are really close. They share the same kindness and curiosity, which makes them always ready go on adventures. Cornelius also loves his little brother, Toby. They haven't a dad, so he acts very protective and defensive around him. They are an happy family.

Until one day everything changes.

***

The ship docks at a strange place. A creepy island maybe, dark and mysterious.

Cornelius is told to stay on the ship because it might be dangerous, but he is too curious to stay still. He is grown up after all, he can handle an adventure. Moreover he is sure the island is hiding a secret. A treasure? A temple? He needs to know.

When nobody is watching he sneaks out of the ship and goes exploring on his own. But then he'll eventually find something there, something wicked and scary. Maybe it is just a cage... something Cornelius is not supposed to open. But again how could he know? And there are voices... they tell him to free them... (dreamons or maybe even DreamXD?)

And you know what they say... "curiosity killed the cat". Excepts Cornelius doesn't die. As soon as he opens the cage he hears a loud and shrill scream and then everything goes black. He wakes up a little after, but nothing has changed. Or at least it seems so.

He grabs his things and quickly comes back to the ship, pretending nothing happened.

***

However after a couple of days things get worse. Now the voices keep visiting him, especially during night. And he doesn't feel alright.

His mother thinks it might be just fatigue or scurvy. But Cornelius doesn't tell her about the voices and the cage. He stays silent even when he sees a white stain growing on his hand.

It can't be that bad, can it?

***

After a week or two Cornelius is not getting better: his head spins, his heart hurts and the voices keep being louder and louder in his mind, till he passes out.

When he wakes up the ship is burning. He has a lighter in his right hand. Fire starts spreading everywhere and the crew panic, trying to stop it with water. But it doesn't work. It's too late.

Cornelius stares at this hands horrified. He doesn't remember anything. Why is he in the middle of the fire? What happened? He cannot breath and closes his eyes. "Let it be just a dream" he prays "He can't be me". His voice cracks, noticing the white stain has grown all over his arm. (imagine it like Ranboo’s left side... these two are connected)

Puffy quickly reaches him and helps him get out of the cabin. They are both burned and covered in ash. Toby cries and squirms in his mother's hands. "It'll be ok" she says culling the baby too calmly to be in a middle of a fire. "Cornelius, you two will take the lifeboat". Cornelius hesitates. "What about you?" Puffy smiles back at him, her cheeks buried in tears: "A captain never leaves her own ship, duckling.. I've got responsibilities here".

"What about us? Mom you don't have to this" he prays, his voice broken. He doesn't want to leave his mother...

But she doesn't listen.

"Take your brother away from here. Row till you find a coast, then ask for help, ok? I'll find you both eventually. I swear" Her smile is weak and tired. They both know it's a lie. They will never meet again.

Puffy gives Cornelius a compass. "Will be together again" she promises. "Do it for Toby".

Cornelius grabs his little brother and finally leaves. He doesn't have the bravery to hold his mother one last time.

(Puffy will actually survive, but she'll forget everything)

The rest is like a memory.

He manages to reach a little beach a couple of days after the accident. When they touch the ground Cornelius collapses. (Tubbo, Puffy and Dream would have scars and marks after the ship break)

***

The following months are horrifying.

It's cold and desolate where they landed. Nobody is willing to help, mainly because they're scared of Cornelius' white mark.

He can't blame them anyway. There's something wrong and scary inside him. They had found a village at some point, but Cornelius had one of his episode and burned down the place.

Toby cries all the time. He is hungry and, most of all, he misses mom.

The voices are not helping.

Cornelius can't keep him anymore. It's already difficult being alone out there. He can't... he can't let his brother live in misery like this. And what if has an episode close to him?

When they reach a wooden house in the middle of the snow (SBI house of course), Cornelius is sure it's time.

He leaves Toby out of the house, with a letter that says: "Save Toby". He has seen a woman doing that with a blonde hair baby a couple of months before (Tommy’s mother y’all).

The owners seem fine. Cornelius had watched them laughing and eating all together next to the fireplace a couple of times. He is sure they could give Toby the love and the warmth he can't provide him. He'll be safe there.

He gives the compass to Toby, just in case he'll need it one day to find him. It's hard, but it's the only choice. They can't be together.

As soon as his brother walks away, Toby starts crying louder. Cornelius does the same. For a moment he even thinks about turning around and take him back. He doesn't want to leave him: he is the only family he has left. But he is doing the right thing, he tells himself. He needs to be strong. For Toby's sake.

The first one to notice the screams is Wilbur, who jumps out of the door worried and scared. He looks at the baby on the top of the stairs and then looks directly at the tree Cornelius is hidden behind.

Philza exits a few moments later. He grabs the baby softly and he looks up to the sky where is crawls are flying. "There's someone" Wilbur whispers, pointing at the tree. Philza stops him and gives him the card. "Whoever left this baby here has a reason, Will".

Cornelius keeps crying. He wishes he could be there too. But the thing that is growing inside him... he is not sure he can handle it.

Techno is out in the forest eventually. He sees Cornelius. "Have some food, nerd", he says, before leaving him with a potato.

***

Cornelius stays close to that house anyway. At least he can keep an eye on Toby from there. He has found a nice spot, next to a cage. It's not that much, but he can't complain.

Toby is growing fast, even if his horns haven't shown up yet. Cornelius likes to watch him play outside with the other blonde kid, Tommy. They seem to get along well. He is as happy and carefree as a child his age should be.

Cornelius instead is sicker than ever. The white stain is growing on his skin day by day. His left arm, part of the chest and even his eye, now red, are surrounded by that. He doesn't know what to do. The voices keep him awake almost every night. They whisper something about "Dream".

Sometimes he wishes he could think about his mother, but the voices are louder than his thoughts. He can't remember her, nor his past life.

The stain is slowly erasing his memory. He is afraid one day he'll even forget Toby.

***

He meets Sapnap when he most needs a friend.

He hasn't talked with someone for ages (except for Techno who sometimes leave him food), so he is not sure he can remember how to do it, but with Sapnap is easy and comfortable.

He saves him from a spider.

Sapnap is scared and lost in the forest. Cornelius happens to be right next to him when the monster comes out. He grabs his sword and kills it.

"Woah, dude you saved me!" Sapnap says, jumping around. "What's your name?" Cornelius hesitates. It's been so long since someone called with his name. He can't really remember it. Was it something with a C? Maybe. Why can't he remember?

"I think it's Dream" he lies, feeling his skin burning. The other one however doesn't seem to notice it. "That's nice, mine is Sapnap! Do you live here? All alone?"

Dream nods, still unsure he should trust or not this new guy. He stays in the shadow. Sapnap smiles. "Dope! I wish I could have an house just for myself" then the smiles runs away from his face "I actually came here to do that... I got into a fight with my dad. Do you have parents?"

"I don't"

Sapnap laughs a bit. "Me neither actually.. Bad is my guardian to be honest. But he is a great guy, really. It's just... I needed space, you know?" Dream is sure he hasn't understood a word of what this kid has said. Bad? Guardian? Space?

"Not really" he answers, lighting a fire. Sapnap immediately steps back, and Dream realises he has finally seen his face. Now he'll go away too, he reckons. I'll be alone forever.

However Sapnap's smile grows bigger then ever. "Whoa that's sick" he screams "I mean in a cool way, dude. Loving your style".

Dream blushes. "I... don't really like it"

Sapnap raises his eyebrows, sighing. "Maybe my dad could fix it"

***

Bad has never been so worried in his entire life - which is a looooong life.

Sapnap wasn't in his bed this morning. He really thought he lost him for good after their last fight, but he luckily came back safe and sound.

He even made a friend.

Bad was so angry, but the happiness of holding his child again was bigger then every other feeling.

"Does it grow?" he asks, touching Dream's face. The kid nods uncomfortably. "Your left eye.. was it green before?" He nods again. "Do you have memory loss?" Dream hesitates. Bad writes something down.

"Well, Dream, I can't erase the stain. What I can do is preventing it from growing bigger. Your memory is damaged, so I can't fix it, but form now on you should remember things more clearly"

"What does that mean?"

"It means I can't give you back your memories, but you can make new ones"

Dream stares at his feet. He is sure there was someone important in his life before worth to remember.

"It'll hurt a bit"

***

"You can stay here if you want" Bad says.

The "operation" went pretty well. Bad and Sapnap offered him to stay with them as long as he wants. Dream is glad. He likes it here. It feels like... family. The voices are gone. Is he really free?

Sapnap enters the room with a big smile. "Dream, I made you something! I know you have to wear bandages everyday, because the mark is still there – Dream touches is face - so my dad and I came up with this little idea" Sapnap hands him a mask.

"It's easier to take off. I drew the smile"

Dream feels his eyes burning. No one has ever done something like that for him. A gift! "I like it. Thank you Sapnap"

“Don’t worry! That’s what friends do”

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kpopimagi · 3 years

Text

New Fic...Kinda

Rant Ahead. You've been warned.

In July 2017, this amazing idea for a new fic popped up in my head, and silently, I worked on it on and off. Then, in 2018, I got an incredible prompt from the EXO Writer's Net and started working on it too.

For me to say that I was excited to write those stories doesn't cover how much I wrote and how cool it was to feel my head putting these two stories together. I was on fire. I was happy with the plots and the OCs and then, I got a comment on one of my stories.

It crushed me tbh.

I pretty much left tumblr. I come every once in a while just to see what's new but I deleted the fic in question, which was something I've never done in my life before. I believe in keeping every piece of writing, no matter how bad or short it is but that one, I just had to erase it from the face of the earth. Those two stories I was so excited to write, I put them on hold. My main and favorite story and ongoing fic "Your First Everything", I had to put it to rest too because I suddenly just hated it with a passion. I still do and it hurts so much because it was the story that brought me to the kpop fanfic world. I don't even know if I can finish it anymore.

Since then, I've tried to write. I started countless stories and none of them got me excited enough to even finish them, let alone thinking about posting them but I kept trying. I opened old files to see if one of them could make me want to write again and one of those old works in progress did.

That short draft I wrote in 2017 suddenly felt like new again in 2021 and I've been writing it folks. With only 5 chapters, I have this 40k-word monster of fanfic in my hands. Who would've thought, right? And I've shown it to some of my closest friends and they're liking it so far, so I guess is good and that's exciting.

But let me tell you something, I still don't feel confident about posting it. I don't even know if I should share it. Mostly because I'm having tons of fun writing it to myself knowing the person that left that comment on my story won't read it. However, I know that when I post it (if I ever do), this person, might read it and it's scary tbh. The lack of interaction from readers, specifically on Tumblr, doesn't help my case that much but nothing in comparison to how scared I am of this person having the chance to read any of my stories.

I'm considering it though.

I have the draft on AFF ready to post this angsty story. I really do and I just need to make a cover for it and.... be brave enough to share it.

#Rant #I know no one will read this #I just needed to let it out #Also....I'm not gone from Tumblr #Will any of you read my story though?#If I do share it...I'll let you know I guess #It won't be here though #Tumblr is not a nice place for writers anymore #Well...that's all #Bye

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anarcho-smarmyism · 3 years

Note

How would prison abolition deal with murderers, serial killers, paedophiles, torturers,kkk members,neo-Nazis and terrorists? Some people are a legit danger and cannot be allowed to roam society.

So I didn’t answer this at the time, because the anon who sent it is almost definitely the racist troll sending me shit I’m not going to publish (so like uhhh bear that in mind lmao), but I’ve blocked them now and it’s been a few days, so hopefully they’ve fucked off by now. Plus, I’ve been thinking about this question a LOT since before I received it. It’s a question that I think most people have about the concept of prison abolition and reparative justice, and not everyone with these concerns is asking in bad faith. Besides which, with the recent attempted coup and the way it looks like people who participated are actually going to face legal consequences for it (which alone was somewhat surprising to me tbh), I’ve been seeing a lot of leftists discoursing over whether it’s morally okay and intellectually consistent to be happy about cops beating up, killing, and arresting KKK members and Neo-Nazis, so it is now actually topical! Under the cut due to long response~

So the first thing I want to point out, is that literally every single one of the groups of “legit dangers who cannot be allowed to roam society”, are already out there right now. In our current “justice” system, it’s common knowledge that monsters often get off on a technicality, or because they just have the money to throw lawyer after lawyer at the charges, or because they outright bribe someone, or countless other ways to get around the law. You can look on my own literal tumblr blog and watch me argue with grown ass adults who will bold faced admit to consuming child porn with half-assed excuses, and you’ll find more open pedophiles on sites like twitter, reddit, or 4chan, or porn sites where “teen” is usually one of the most popular categories. Besides which, have you ever looked at the average sentences for convicted rapists, wife beaters, or pedophiles, as compared with the sentences for getting caught selling drugs? In middle school I had to walk a mile or two to get to school through a neighborhood we’d been warned had a convicted pedophile in it, who had just been released after less than 15 years. In that same city, I heard a story about a woman shooting and killing her rapist, and prosecutors were discussing giving her the death penalty for it (she was bragging and laughing about it on video, it was definitely premeditated, but still). Have you ever looked at the statistics of how many rapists and abusers aren’t reported, or if they are reported aren’t prosecuted, or if they are are prosecuted with a slap on the wrist (remember Brock Turner????) Also I notice how you didn’t even mention domestic abusers or rapists in your list of people who need to be locked up lolololol shows where your priorities vis a vis “public safety are I’m sorry, but the system just does not work the way you think it does, the we are taught it does.

People who make this argument always act like the systems we have now are efficient and nigh on flawless when it comes to “not letting dangerous people roam society”, but it isn’t and it can’t be and it never will be. That very fact ought to be enough to shake your faith in the idea that society will become a nonstop Purge of indiscriminate violence if everyone who’s committed a sufficiently despicable act of violence isn’t locked up for the rest of their lives -but you might say, “okay, but those are flukes, the system still works because most of the people who are “a danger to society” are usually locked up.” I’m not completely sold that that’s even true (have you ever heard of the opportunities cops had to bring in serial killers and murderers, who just didn’t care enough to try? Jeffrey Dahmer is a good example of this), but I’ll assume it is to move on to my next point.

Even if we assumed that the system as we have it, worked flawlessly as designed, that doesn’t change the fact that a lot of the categories mentioned here are people that are actively running the very systems that this rhetoric is defending. It’s well-documented that American white supremacists of various stripes have infiltrated law enforcement and the military for the express purpose of not just “roaming free”, but getting to exert the power of the State over people of color. Cops and soldiers kill people all the time, and not only are they not penalized, they’re celebrated for it. Agents of the State fucking torture people all the time, and I don’t just mean Guantanamo Bay or war crimes by soldiers; cops have been caught on camera spraying protesters with pepper spray and beating them once they’ve already been handcuffed or while they’re chained to trees or whatever -not because they think they “need” to, because they want to, and they know they’ll get away with it. Cops also systematically torture people in prison with solitary confinement. Heads of state drop bombs on civilians for “politically motivated reasons”, they do all kinds of shit that would be called “terrorism” if anybody but a State did it; and people might disapprove, but they don’t (generally) claim that the politicians and generals who made that call are “a danger to society” that need to get life in prison. If you genuinely believe that whether these acts of violence are “legal” or not changes whether they’re okay, or that a person who engages in illegal violence is “dangerous” but people who engage in legal violence aren’t... I’m honestly not even going to try to refute that here lol, prison abolition is level 5 shit and you’re at level -1, study how authoritarianism in general works before trying to understand prison abolition (not trying to be a dick here, it’s what i would tell my younger self when I believed the same thing).

It simply does not hold up to rational scrutiny to believe that society will collapse into an orgy of violence and mayhem if we abolish prison (or that we’ll have to resort to medieval punishments instead??? lol funny take i remember from some racist troll or other over the years), when those dangers are already present (and in some cases widely celebrated as “heroes” and given the power to indiscriminately brutalize “acceptable targets” with the State’s monopoly on violence) under the current system.

The next thing people need to understand is that contrary to popular belief and despite how counterintuitive it sounds, even the brutality of our current prison system is not an effective deterrent to crime (linked a Guardian article that looks like it has some good info on this, but I recommend a book called Unfair: The New Science of Criminal Injustice by Adam Benforado for more information). Let me say that again: the threat of prison has been empirically shown to be INEFFECTIVE as a deterrent to crime. Do you really think that a serial killer or someone who wants to blow up a building full of people is going to be more likely to follow the law for fear of prison, than regular people doing regular people crimes like selling drugs or getting into drunk fights that go too far?

I don’t think anyone is actually willing to argue that prison “rehabilitates” anyone, or does anything besides make regular criminals into angrier, more antisocial, more desperate criminals with more criminal connections and less options for any kind of a legitimate living, so I’m just going to point out that having such a large prison population arguably creates more people who have shitty lives of poverty and are surrounded by people who are in and out of prison. It’s not like that “makes” anybody into a serial killer, but I feel like you’d have to willfully ignorant to act like it’s not a factor in increasing violent crime in affected community.

So, I’ve so far argued that prison is an ineffective solution to the problems it claims to exist in order to solve, and that in many cases, it actually makes the problems that lead to these sorts of dangerous people (”regular” murderers and the radicalization of Neo-Nazis and KKK members in particular, I think) becoming dangerous, or at least more dangerous, in the first place. What I haven’t done, is talk about what I believe is the real core of the issue when it comes to prison abolition: nobody wants to fucking peacefully rehabilitate these people. I am arguing for a system that would handle these people basically as gently as possible, with the goal of releasing them back into society eventually, and I still believe these things mostly intellectually, not emotionally. I don’t want the men who sexually assaulted me and/or my loved ones to get off scot free (they did, of course, but that’s beside the point), much less serial killers or Nazis, and I’m not about to get on my high horse about wanting revenge on people who’ve committed these kinds of atrocities. The reason I’m a prison abolitionist in spite of these feelings is that I do not believe the desire for revenge, for punishment for punishment’s own sake, is an impulse we should indulge when creating social and political infrastructures that have ultimate power over millions of lives. In the words of someone talking about abolishing the death penalty, the question isn’t “do they deserve to die”, the question is “do we deserve to kill”; and here, the question is not “does anyone deserve to be imprisoned in this system”, the question is “do we deserve to brutalize people in this way for virtually zero practical benefits to our society”. What any person “deserves” is a subjective moral and philosophical question, one that no conceivable human justice system could ever actually answer. We as a society need to build alternatives to prison (and police!) that can actually address these problems, actually prevent the conditions that create and enable monsters, and actually rehabilitate (to whatever extent that is possible) criminals -even the ones we, personally, despise. Any long-term incarceration that may end up being 100% required should be designed to reduce the suffering of the person in it, no matter how despicable of a person they are. Trying to solve “the problem of evil” instead of trying to create a more functional and just society is a fool’s errand that can only lead to more evil existing, in the end.

At the end of the day, the “irredeemable” people you listed off as justifications for the continuing existence of prison, are only a tiny fraction of the people in prison, even the ones with life sentences. A full understanding of the horror and oppression the prison industrial complex enacts on the people in it and their communities (and how the system is designed to make a profit off of human suffering and death) is something you’ll have to read some actual books about in order to acquire. However, I don’t think it’s controversial to say that any horror we as a society deem “acceptable” to do to the worst of the worst, will also be done to regular criminals, as well as to innocent people who are wrongly imprisoned. Any brutality you design with a serial killer in mind WILL eventually be a punishment for a petty thief or drug dealer or sex worker, or a person who didn’t commit the crime they were incarcerated for. Is it really worth it? Is it really, really worth all the misery and oppression prison causes, to satiate our sense of justice? I don’t believe that it is. I believe that we have a responsibility both to the incarcerated and to their communities to base our policies and institutions on actually solving these societal problems however we can, and leaving our “eye for an eye” mentality in the dark ages where it belongs.

If you are interested in prison abolition as a concept, I can recommend some good books on it. You also need to understand that concept of “reparative justice”, which I’ve alluded to here but not really explained because OH MY GOD THIS POST IS TOO LONG ALREADY. Short explanation of it is that it aims to repair the harm done by the crime and rehabilitate the criminal through through therapy and trying to get them to actually understand what they’ve done and empathize with who they’ve hurt, while also providing therapy and resources to the victim of the crime (when it’s something violent and the reparation can’t just be “give them their money back plus extra for damages” or something). The point is not to satiate anybody’s sense of justice or revenge, but to proactively try to solve the problem the crime has caused and prevent the offender from doing it again. It would need to work in conjunction with the abolition of police (and replacement with better infrastructure for the few things cops do that we actually need done) and various other social programs and measures to prevent the circumstances that lead to crime. This sounds like a long shot because it is, but just because it hasn’t been done on a wide scale before doesn’t mean it can’t be, and just because it will be difficult doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.

#prison #prison abolition #reparative justice #anarchist #anarchism #prison industrial complex #asks #anonymous

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cristalconnors · 3 years

Text

TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet.

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow?

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career.

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward.

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it.

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine?

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either.

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too.

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world?

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay.

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want.

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

Chapter three for Surprisingly Familiar. It’s time to get to the real plot of this thing!

@petrichormeraki is the maker of the hermit Tommy au, @helleborusangel likes to read these and give me their rambles which are my beloved, and then check my tumblr for my masterpost of things I’ve made.

“Hey Paul, you’re done talking with X, right?” Bdubs asked as he noticed Paul walking by.

“Uh, yeah. He said he could let a guest in for a little bit because he needs to talk with Phil and Phil’d rather stay here instead of coming to the castle.”

“Yeah yeah, sounds great.” Bdubs sad, waving it off. “Hey, new question. Paul what the heck was that back there?!” He shouted, making a number of hermits look over.

“Hey, calm down, keep things off tap.” Paul tried to calm the hermit down, but it didn’t work that much.

“Oh this is Hermitcraft. We don’t do things on tap. Except Tommy but that’s different. Now, what were you doing back there?” And Bdubs pointed towards the room Paul and Phil had talked in. From the crowd, Jrum felt a little nervous, wondering if it was something he did, but the answer calmed the bot.

“Calm down. It was something Hoodie taught me. I’m sure Zedaph can back me up.”

Behind Bdubs, Zed stopped slurping from a coffee cup that was actually filled with a slushie. “Yeah, don’t worry he’s fine. No necromancy.”

“See? I just wanted a private conversation.” Paul replied, though Bdubs still looked grumpy.

“Alright, don’t make me call in Genny.” And Bdubs signalled that he was watching Paul before walking off. As he left, Scar took his place, seeming pretty confused.

“So, what’s with him?”

Paul sighed. “He’s not a fan of certain types of magic. I did a bit of necromancy for a time and there was someone else in the world who essentially became a dark lord, so Bdubs and some others became witch hunters.”

“Huh, That’s not something I would have guessed.” Scar said. “I mean, I’m a wizard and he’s been fine with me.”

Paul looked a little stunned. “Oh really? Didn’t realize. What style are you? My friend Hoodie is coming in for a quick visit. He’s ars based.”

Scar laughed a little. “Is that so? Haven’t seen many of those. I’ve got a mix. Vex magic and crystalline. Cub’s also a user of vex magic.”

Paul nodded. “That’s nice. How many magic users you got around here?”

The hermit mayor started to count on his fingers. “So there’s me and Cub. Pretty sure Stress has some. Cleo’s definitely got some magic. Grian of course. Uh, not sure if Joe does or not. I think Xisuma’s just-”

“Xel- er, Grian’s got some magic?”

“Yeah. And I guess the kids probably do too. Not sure right now.” Scar said, before looking Paul in the eye. “You're not going to freak out about Grian having magic, right? You’ve already got him upset which gets us upset.”

“Yeah, I know.” Paul sighed. “Just been through a lot. I get overly worried sometimes, and to me, I suddenly hear that ‘kid involved in murders is now causing wars in the world my friends are in.’ So yeah, sort of thought the worst.”

Scar inhaled sharply. “Okay, yeah. I can see what made you freak out. But Grian’s fine. He’s been through a lot and while technically he’s caused chaos, it’s never something we hate and normally we’re all in on it somehow.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, you should hear about the sewer cats.”

“Can’t wait to hear about it. Haven’t seen any letters about it.”

Scar nodded, before being just a little confused. “So, is there a reason you’re always using letters instead of other stuff? I’m sure some of the others could make you something that would work.”

Paul nodded. “I don’t doubt that they could for the most part. I just deal with a lot of factors and have always preferred the tried and true method. I’m all over the place and sometimes I can only really bring along paper.”

“What do you do?” Scar asked, interest piqued.

“Let’s see. Not sure if Phil’s told you, but he used to be king.” Scar nodded. It wasn’t Phil, but Grian had mentioned it. “Well, I’m one as well. Hoodie’s my right hand man and royal mage.”

“Ah, and you said he’s the one visiting?”

“Yeah. So I end up busy there a lot. I also spend a lot of my time visiting my kids so I’m going from world to world. Then, there’s also my wife and she’s in the world we raised the kids in which is essentially my main home.”

“And that’s what?”

“Uh, the same one I found Xe- sorry, Grian in ages ago.” Paul answered. “And I’ve got a job there that doesn’t really work with comms sometimes, but paper is easy enough to have on hand, especially enchanted paper.” And Paul took out a sheet of paper, handing it to Scar.

Scar took the paper and looked it over. As he moved it, he could see how the light caught the slightly physical aspect of the magic, much like how enchantments could be seen. “This looks good. You can hardly see the magic but I can tell it’s there. What all is on here?”

“Mostly stuff to get it to the right recipient and make it illegible if you’re trying to read it and it’s not for you.”

“Ah. That’s a commonly known one for ars mages, right?” Scar asked. “I haven’t heard much about them.”

Paul nodded. “Yeah. That’s due to the mage wars. They happened a number of years back before Hoodie was alive. He’s the main reason things are sort of getting back to normal for those guys.” Paull pulled out an old communicator which looked like it was being held together with duct tape and prayers. “He should be here pretty soon. He said he was only going to get a few books and amulets. And your admin said he would be able to get in.”

Almost as soon as Paul had said something, a message went out that someone new had joined the world. Xisuma sent a message that he would go to help the guest to Aque Town and from there Paul and Scar just waited for the two others to arrive. Xisuma was the first to arrive, gliding down on his elytra. The other person wore a royal purple hooded robe and seemed to arrive with the use of an ender pearl, but Scar didn’t see them use one.

Paul was the first to move, going over to the other person. “Hoodie! You made it!”

With the confirmation that this was the mage coming in, Scar followed along, a bit excited to meet someone new with magic. “Of course Sir. You did ask for my presence.”

Scar watched as Paul put an arm around Hoodie’s shoulder. “You don’t need to be so formal here. In fact, here. This is Scar. He’s the mayor, and based on the kind of place this is, I’d say he’s the local hedgewizard.”

“Ah, I see. It is nice to meet you. My name is Hoodie. I am King Soares’ right hand man and royal mage.”

Scar shook Hoodie’s hand, getting a slight shock. “It’s nice to meet you too. Paul already said I’m Scar. I’m guessing you’re a lightning mage or something?”

Hoodie took his hand back. “Ah, sorry about that. Yes I am. Or at least I specialize in it. Same as my father lest he’s recently changed his affinity.”

“Well I don’t know enough about your kind of magic to know what that really means.”

Paul walked away as the two magic users started to discuss their various forms of magic and wizardry. He needed to find Phil again since the main reason Hoodie was even there was so that Phil could get more of the enchanted paper. Not wanting to drag the mage away, Paul was instead going after his brother since he was the one insisting he wouldn’t take any of it without knowing for sure it was enchanted by Hoodie. After that, Hoodie would help out a bit around the world as repayment for Xisuma letting him on, then the two of them would head back home. At least, that was the plan.

. .

Drawing him away from the nest was almost laughably easy. Grian and Mumbo were both asleep and the chicken was theoretically trapped. At least trapped enough it wasn’t going to escape into the room itself. And then it could only see out the window and not into the room which was a big plus. Because of that, it was simple enough to have viridian magic surround the prison and really ensure the chicken wouldn’t be getting out.

“You know.” The person spoke in a whisper, making Grian twitch ever so slightly in his sleep, but not wake up. “You’re really making this far too easy. I thought it would be difficult with those guests of yours here, but it turns out everyone’s distracted by them. And they put you in such a perfect position. Let’s just move you to somewhere a bit more private, hmm?”

Grian of course didn’t wake up, but as the person left, a bit more magic appeared around Grian, and then a few moments later, he woke up with a start. Grian looked around, glad to see there was only Mumbo and a box in the corner. For a moment he was confused about it, but faint clucking from inside helped him figure out what it was. But something still felt off.

Grian went to shake Mumbo awake, but he hesitated a moment before actually waking him up. “Mumbo. Mumbo!” And Mumbo woke up from his name being shouted, looking around to see what was going on. “Mumbo, I think we’ve been up here too long. Something feels wrong.”

Mumbo pulled out his communicator to look at the time. “Oh dear! It does look like we have been here a while. It also looks like someone else has shown up.”

“Really?” Grian asked, pulling his own comm out to look at the message. “There’s no way this person would just happen to show up today of all days for no reason. What if they’re someone else with… I want to check on the kids.”

Mumbo stood up and then helped Grian to his feet. “Don’t worry. I’m sure if anything happened, the other hermits would be taking care of the boys. We can of course check on them, but you don’t want your panic to make them panic.”

Grian nodded and from there the two of them went back down to the ground floor, leaving Kokatori behind. Finding the new person was rather easy as he and Scar were both standing on the street of Aque Town facing each other. Scar was currently donning his wizard robe over his Aque Town outfit. In his hands, he held a number of crystals that Grian thought he was never going to see again.

The other person was wearing a purple robe and held a wand in one hand and a book with a yellow cover in the other. His hood had fallen back slightly, so Grian was able to see as the other person glanced over at him when he got closer. Normally the avian would assume it was just because he was getting close and was noticed, but there was some sort of emotion in the eyes that made Grian worry.

Both of them had their attention pulled away from each other as Scar moved, a yellow glow around him as he moved like he had a speed effect. When he reached the other person, Grian watched as the Scar’s netherite sword struck them, and then a ring of white magic appeared around them, acting as a shield against further attacks.

Realizing at this point that the two were fighting, Grian moved to try and stop them, but then out of nowhere, lightning struck the ground in front of him, making him stop. When Grian looked back up, both mages were looking over to him and then Scar called out. “Hey, don’t worry! We’re just doing some sparring! It was my idea!”

“Are you sure? Who even is this?”

“His name’s Hoodie. Royal mage of Paul it looks like.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Grian asked, concerned.

“Yeah, it just sounds like he was jumping to conclusions when he saw you. I’m sure it’s going to be fine if you talk to him again.”

Grian wasn’t completely convinced, but pretended enough for Scar to look back at Hoodie and then continue their sparring. Slowly, the avian started moving to where everyone else probably was, still in the party building. Mumbo followed him along, but eventually he passed Grian when the builder decided to actually watch the magic battle.

Scar seemed to mainly be using regular combat, but enhanced by his crystals which actually seemed to be doing something. Hoodie, on the other hand, was using his wand and casting a number of spells from his book. At one point, Grian watched the mage fumble a little bit to pull out a book with a green cover before casting a new spell that he hadn’t used yet.

Grian didn’t realize he was just standing there alone, and the magicians weren’t really paying much attention to him, but in the span of a few seconds, that all changed. To anyone watching, it would seem like it happened all at once, but really it was just one thing after the other.

Grian was barely aware of the space around him getting the slightest tint of green to it. As soon as that had happened, Hoodie turned away from Scar and instead faced Grian, pulling out a new red spell book. Scar was the next to react, still under the effects of his yellow crystal. He started to pull out a red crystal, accidentally pulling a pink one out at the same time. He threw them towards Grian just as Hoodie began to cast some magic aimed at Grian, but also in the direction of what would be in the path of the crystals.

Seeing multiple things coming his way, Grian started to panic, wings moving to act as a shield since he currently wasn’t holding one. As they moved, the tips of his wings started to change from red to purple, the shift in color working its way to the base of the wings. He couldn’t react fast enough to block everything, but the magic hit both of the crystals, making them shatter into dust. The pink and red dust didn’t completely stay their original colors, some of them charred by the magic attack that hit them, but each tiny piece seemed to glow with its own energy, and even with the, being broken so small, when the cluster hit Grian, there was enough force to make him crash to the ground.

For everyone not watching at that moment in time, they simply heard a large crack of thunder at the same time there was shattering glass, followed by screaming from Grian. Within a matter of seconds, people were racing out of the nearby building, there to see what had happened.

When people got out onto the street, Scar was yelling at Hoodie. “What was that?! Grian wasn’t involved! I thought I could actually- I can’t see why Bdubs actually trusted- I’m guessing he’s changed a lot since-”

“Please, I was just trying to defend myself. He was about to attack me. Didn’t you see it?”

“He was just watching us!”

“No. Your back was turned so you maybe didn’t see it.”

“I should have used a brown crystal too. What kind of spell was that?!” As they yelled, Xisuma was the first to get over to the pair to try and figure out what was going on, getting an answer from Scar. “That Paul guy’s mage just attacked Grian! If I hadn’t done something, it might have killed him!”

“What?” Paul asked, coming over. “Hoodie what just happened?”

The mage looked over to Paul, ignoring Scar and X. “Sir, the hedgewizard and I were simply having a duel to see each other's magic skills. As we battled, this avian mage came by and tried to stop us once. Of course Scar was able to prevent that the first time, but then the mage tried to cast a spell of attack. I was already using a spell to help my reaction time, as was the wizard here, so I began to cast a counterspell. At first I thought Scar was also about to assist me, but instead he seemed to try and stop my spell, causing our magic to collide. It seems to have still-” Hoodie tried to continue, but Paul held up a hand to stop him.

Paul then tried to speak himself, but then his shoulder was ground and he was whirled around by Phil. “Paul, what the fuck? Did you just have your wizard attack Grian?”

“What? No, of course I wouldn’t! It sounds like Grian was trying to attack Hoodie and he defended himself.”

“Yeah sure. Mate, just tell me the truth.”

“I’m just telling you what Hoodie told me. I know just as much as you do at this point other than what he told me.”

Again, the conversation was cut off by Mumbo speaking up, having joined the group. “Grian’s really hurt. His breathing is off and it looks like his wings were hurt enough for them to shift away. There’s also something else, but I can’t place it. Xisuma, can you look at him?”

Everyone moved out of the way for the admin to head towards Grian, but as soon as he took a step, everyone had their comms buzz with two messages. Xisuma peeked over the crowd to look where Grian had been a minute ago. He wasn’t currently lying there, but neither were any items that signified him having died and respawned. That could have been because he had nothing on him at the point, which was unlikely, but could have been what happened.

That being said, the shocked gasps from people who were looking at their comms didn’t assure Xisuma, so the admin pulled up the chat logs on his helmet. Instead of there being a death message for Grian, there were two messages of people leaving the world.

The_Grifter left the world Xelqua left the world.

#hc x dsmp #hermit!tommy au #bdoubleo100 #paul soares jr #jrumbot #zedaph #goodtimeswithscar #xisuma #xisumavoid #hoodie the mage #Hels!grian #Grian #avian!grian #watcher!grian #grian xelqua #yhs grian #mumbo jumbo #philza

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coffee-imagines · 4 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors Pt. 6

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Fred x reader

Warnings: none

A/N: school’s got me ready to jump off a cliff but I had a bit of extra time to work on this here and there so I hope you guys like it. Also thanks for 700 followers! :) I really appreciate all of you that give me great feedback and who just read my things in general. It really means a lot

Summary: After avoiding Fred the truth comes out

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You’d never been more humiliated in your entire life. The second the words had left Fred’s mouth you froze on top of him. It surprised you how much the way you acted with love potion mirrored the way you’d been feeling about Fred. It may have been the slightest bit escalated, but it wasn’t as far fetched as Fred would have thought. You both stayed silent for a while, neither of you knowing who should move first. It would’ve been easy for either of you to lean in, and it was evident in both of your eyes that you wanted it, but neither of you dared move any closer.

“I’m sorry.” You explained quickly once you finally pulled all your thoughts together, scrambling off the bed. You almost tripped, stumbling toward the door with another apology, ignoring anything that had been coming from Fred as you closed the door behind you. “Idiot.” You groaned, letting your head hit the door.

You made your way down the hall, hiding in the restroom to collect your thoughts. You splashed water over your face, a small groan leaving you when you felt the shame settling in. You couldn’t believe you’d had Fred pinned to his bed, and you liked it more than you should’ve. Remembering just how close you both were made you shiver in delight, the feeling of Fred’s skin against yours still fresh in your mind.

The following morning you avoided Fred like the plague. You decided it was best to sleep on the couch, too embarrassed to get back into bed with Fred. You couldn’t sleep all night, wondering what Fred must’ve been thinking up stairs. You’d made breakfast early, leaving some for Fred when he woke up before you made your way out of the house. You couldn’t bear to see him, not just yet. Making your way into the middle of the field, you laid down to look up at the sky. You let your eyes follow the clouds, trying to think about how you’d go back in and speak to Fred as though nothing happened the night before.

Would it have been so bad to finally come clean to him about your feelings? Maybe it was about time you got it over with. As much as you wanted to believe you’d stay as close friends after school was over, there was something in you that knew it wouldn’t be possible if you hardly ever saw each other. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips when your eyes fluttered closed, the images of last night coming back. You felt embarrassed for liking the whole situation, wanting nothing more than to be in Fred’s bedroom with him on top of you instead of you him, having his lips trail down your neck while you tried catching your breath.

“Hey.” Fred whispered pulling you out of your thoughts causing you to jump slightly when he laid down next to you. You continued staring up at the sky, too embarrassed to look in his direction, especially after what you’d just been thinking.

“Hey…” You trailed, a small gasp leaving you when Fred’s hand brushed yours. Your fingers twitched in anticipation. It hadn't been like you never held hands before, but the situation made you blush at the thought of touching him again. It seemed Fred made the decision for you, your eyes widening when he’d held your hand tighter than he ever had before.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” Fred explained, turning his head toward you sitting up on his elbows, making you look away. “Y/N, really.” He grabbed your chin and made you look up at him, making you bite your lip and hope your face wasn’t as red as you thought. “You didn’t mean to do it, it’s okay.” He continued while you just stared.

“I liked it though.” You admitted without thinking, squeezing your eyes shut in realization.

“You did?” Fred asked, his voice sounding hopeful, a small glint of hope filling his eyes while he bit back a smile. You nodded slowly, sitting up so the both of you were face to face. “So did I.” He confessed, making butterflies fill your stomach. “I know you probably only did it because of the love potion, but I just want you to know that I like you.” Fred explainer making your breath hitch.

“No.” You shook your head. “If that’s true then that means I’m an even bigger idiot for not telling you sooner. You’ve never shown… no Fred you’re just saying that because of what happened last night.” You protested, not wanting to believe that you could’ve been kissing the red headed dork in front of you for years.

“You’re attractive Y/N. I’ve drooled over you more times than I can count.” Fred explained making you laugh.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” You shoved him, earning a shove in return.

“Says the one who didn’t talk to me all day.” He fired back making you blush in embarrassment.

“You would’ve done the same.” You grumbled, Fred pulling you up when he stood.

“I have an idea.” Fred whispered down to you. Your eyes flickered down to his lips before you looked back up.

“What is it?” You breathed out, pulling away before you could do anything.

“We should have a date. Like a real one. If you want?” Fred blushes furiously.

“Of course I would want to. What did you have in mind? We can’t exactly go anywhere.” You explained, and this question sent the both of you in a spiral.

The rest of the day you came up with boring ideas, all of them being things you’d already done around the house. You would’ve suggested having a nice dinner, but you ate every meal with each other that it seemed pointless. When you both curled into each other later that night, you found yourself immediately relaxing into Fred’s arms.

“We still have nothing.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

“How about a picnic tomorrow before everyone gets back?” He explained, pulling you closer to him when he felt you nuzzle your head against his chest, your eyes becoming heavier by the second.

“Sounds like a plan.” You mumbled, the sleep you hadn’t gotten the night before catching up to you when the safe feeling of Fred’s arms around you finally filled you once again.

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Tag list: Inbox/message me if you’d like to be added (comments sometimes get lost amongst notifications) unfortunately tumblr isn’t letting me tag some of you, and I don’t really know why, but if I remember, I’ll try tagging you all in the comments when this posts

@mathletemadison @severuslovebot @izzytheninja @obsessedwithrandomthings @supermassiveblackhope @tinylumpiaa @accio-rogers @siren-queen03 @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @theweasleytwinsgirl @jenniweaslee @jpow345 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @imboredandneedalife @writingrosewolf @mondefantastique @averillian @tomatosauceagent @utahjoerdis @dumbassssam @hexmione @voided101 @lucifersnipnips @sweetpeas-serpent-princess @ryeryemilani @thegeekyblondegirlwholovesstars @fallinallinnmendes @pillowjj @bands-messed-me-up @booksandwonderlands @asuperconfusedgirl @demjgod @rodricksgroupie

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