#'uh she was taken from her mom and thrown in the middle of the reds I guess'

[diguerra-moved]

The little red whelp looked at the bigger black scaled whelp with a curious tilt of her head. They were close to each other as the smaller one's tail moved, wagging as she boop her snout against the other's whelp nose. The gesture was gentle and friendly. @ whelpling Nalice & Rosie

IC ASKS // always accepting.

She does not feel safe in their midst.

Far too young to put it into proper words, even to herself, there are things she misses; siblings, black-scaled like she is, as numerous as the reds who now surround her are. Mother, too; for she knows none of the older, bigger dragons to be her. As day passes and she begins to smell more like the reds around her, Nalice still feels this, too to be wrong. Not her clutch siblings, not mother’s lair; it is all wrong, and she curls up in a corner as far from the rest of them as she can. 

And they watch her. There are other whelps, and they do not stick close to her but neither do they bother her much as days go bye and novelty wears off. The others, though, the big dragons… they watch her, and she feels like they might decide to hunt her and eat her, like they had been learning to do when she was taken away from where she belonged.

This one, however (the red who approached her, the one who was smaller than the rest), did not feel vastly more comfortable amidst those Nalice believed to be her siblings, even though they all smelled the same, even though she was colored deep red much like the rest of them. Was it not for that, the black whelp might have avoided her, stepped back, hissed a threat; as is, Nalice watches with wary eyes and nothing more, studies the other with distrust but does not move away.

Wings flap in agitated surprise at the touch, in spite of its clear friendliness; she stumbles back a step or two, before stepping forward again (curiosity piqued, she investigates her companion more closely, takes more detailed note). Only close inspection finished does she reciprocate the gentle gesture, replicating it in much more hesitant manner.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

here's me jumping into the bandwagon :D

(read on ao3)

It's just after sunset when Kara finally gives in. She veers off from her patrol down to a route she knows by heart.

The moment she lands, the first thing she notices is how the sliding doors are a fraction open. It’s a small thing, nothing to even be thrilled about, yet still, her drumming heart cannot be helped.

"Knock, knock," she says, stepping inside.

Her heart turning anxious when she takes in the sight in front of her. The room is a mess; books on the floor, drawers open, Lena’s frazzled appearance. She's standing over a suitcase thrown open in the middle of the bed, a mountain of clothes on top of it.

She was told that Lena was going on a trip, that it would probably take three weeks tops.

Packing for a trip doesn’t look like this, this looks a lot like... leaving.

Going on a trip, Kara remembers that’s what her family told her too.

You and Kal are going on a trip but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you the rest of the way, they told her.

A trip implies there would be a home to come back to. And Kara believed it. She believed it for a total of ten seconds before her planet exploded and a shard of her home knocked her off-course.

"Need some help?" Her voice doesn’t tremble. Kara considers that a miracle, really.

"I didn't know Supergirl helped poor hapless women pack suitcases,” Lena retorts, walking over to her and kissing her cheek in greeting. It doesn't go unnoticed by Kara how clingy Lena's been since she's been back.

"Well, I wouldn’t exactly consider you poor and hapless," Kara counters.

"I may have had a slight,” Lena pinches her thumb and forefinger together, “panic over which and what to pack earlier.”

Yeah, Kara can definitely see that.

"Good thing I’m here then?”

"It's always good whenever you're around,” Lena says in such a casual way and it’s like the past year didn’t happen. As if it has always been this good. And...is this even allowed? This much affection from Lena? All the sweet words, the gentle touches, and the constant close proximity? It shouldn’t be allowed, not if it will be taken from her almost immediately after.

Unfair, is what it is.

******

“Okay, so why don’t we just move this out here yeah?” Kara voices, leaning over and hugging the lump of clothes to her chest, dumps it out from the suitcase and onto Lena’s pillows.

Lena’s fabric conditioner filling Kara’s senses entirely. For a brief moment, she considers stealing one of Lena’s shirts then and there. Something to tide her through once Lena leaves.

“Great. You’re on folding duty then,” Lena declares, “I’ll just go sort my babies, quickly. I’ll be right back.”

(Her 'babies' being the thick books lining every inch of this place.)

Lena disappears through the door. The domesticity of it all pulling at Kara’s chest.

In another world, where life ran a little differently, Kara would be packing their suitcases for a trip to Argo, or maybe one of the planets she’s always wanted Lena to see, or maybe it’d be nothing that grand. Maybe, just a trip back to Midvale. Lena would read to her on the whole drive there, her hair whipping from the winds down coastal roads.

Maybe not even a trip. Maybe in this other world, she’s assigned on folding duty, while Lena tinkers around their house. Maybe, even a dog or a cat. Maybe, something small at first, just an aquarium of fishes.

She doesn’t notice how deep into the fantasy she’s gotten till Lena speaks up from the door.

"My, my, CatCo would pay a million dollars to see this."

"Uh-"

"Supergirl found in bed, folding Lena Luthor's undies."

Kara looks down at her hand. She’s holding a lacy purple panty, she spots the matching bra laying a few inches away. She drops it lightning quick, feels her face flush.

"Oh, Rao. Lena, I'm so sorry I didn't mean to- I wasn't- It was just there and I-"

"Relax, Kara. I was just teasing,” Lena reassures her, she’s got three books tucked in her arms, she lays them down on the bed, before picking up the underwear Kara’s dropped and folding it neatly.

The contrast of the dark fabric against Lena’s pale fingers makes Kara flush an even brighter red.

Kara tries hard to exclude Lena's lacy panties in her fantasy.

She fails.

******

They give up on packing entirely two hours later. An all out pillow fight breaks out somewhere between Kara fishing out her favorite hoodie from the pile--discovering t'was not in fact missing like she thought it was--and Lena denying that she stole it.

They’ve fallen right on top of Lena’s clothes. Laying opposite each other, Lena lying upside down, her feet propped up on the pillows, toes touching the headboard, whilst Kara’s legs dangle at the end of the bed. Their heads close together.

From this angle, she can see the defined slope of Lena’s nose; stares at the way her lashes curl every time she blinks.

“So, what do you think you’ll find there?” Kara breathes out into the silence.

“I don’t really know,” Lena whispers.

“Let me rephrase then; what do you want to find?”

“I- I don’t know either.”

She tries to crane her neck to take a better look at Lena. Her eyes are closed, and it takes every ounce of self-control for Kara not to lean over and just press a kiss to Lena’s lips. It would be so, so easy. She settles for shifting just a bit closer instead, their temples touching.

It’s good enough.

“That’s okay," Kara murmurs, "not knowing is part of the adventure, right?”

She tries not to think about how she isn’t really part of this adventure. It isn’t about her, really. Kara’s decided the next three days will be about Lena. Kara will have time for breaking down once Lena leaves. The three days pales in comparison to how much Lena’s sacrificed in getting her back.

“I guess so.” she hears Lena say.

On the ceiling, Kara sees two shadows dancing with each other, tries not to look too deep into it.

And then,

“I had Jess trace down a couple of documents for me,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There’s an orphanage that could help me, she thinks.”

Kara’s ears perk up at that, she imagines Lena as a small child crying for her mom and then being whisked away from everything she ever knew. Kara wishes she could hold that little girl’s hand. Why did nobody hold Lena’s hand through it all? Kara wonders if somebody did, would Lena even have met her? Would she have needed somebody like Kara in her life? She likes to believe that Lena would still have met her. A reality without Lena was too painful, Kara knows all too well.

“Is that where you’re going to visit first?”

“Yeah.”

A brief silence engulfs them.

“Hey, Kara,” Lena calls out. “Do you think-”

There’s a deep exhale and a sigh.

“Do I think what?”

“Do you think my mom would want me to find her again? Do you think she’s proud of me?”

The question was so full of uncertainty and insecurity and there's nothing that Kara wants more than to just wrap around Lena and tell her how goddamn amazing she is.

“Oh, Lena," Kara whispers, "your mom would be so happy if you found her. I’d even say she’s been waiting for you. And of course, she’s proud of you!” Kara sits up at this, can’t contain all her awe for Lena.

“You’re amazing! Have you met you? Your mom would be so proud of you. I just know it, Lena.”

Lena opens her eyes, smiles shyly at her, reaches up to cup Kara’s cheek. Even though the angle is awkward, Kara feels her entire being light up at the touch.

“Thank you. You always know just what to say.”

Kara's right hand comes up to keep Lena’s hand steady, before tilting slowly to press a kiss to her palm.

She registers the up-tick in her heartbeat before letting go and laying back down again.

Kara’s beginning to understand, now. Lena doesn’t want to wonder anymore, maybe if she knew where she came from, who she could’ve been, and what kind of life she could’ve led, existing wouldn’t be as hard as it is now. Maybe Lena wanted to know that a Luthor isn’t all that she is. Even though Kara has repeated again and again that she is so much more. Lena needs to figure that out for herself, Kara guesses.

Maybe, Lena finally needs a name other than what has been ingrained in her. Maybe Lena needs to name the parts of herself she never had before.

“Maybe you came from a family of thieves,” Kara murmurs, closing her eyes too.

“Kara.” she feels Lena shift, she opens one eye to see Lena propped on her elbows leaning over her. “Are you saying you think being a hoodie thief is genetic?”

“You never know, Lena you never know,” Kara manages to say, her brain a loop of, Lena’s eyes are so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, her hair smells so nice, please kiss me, please kiss-

Kara closes her eyes again to make the chanting stop.

“You do know I'm a scientist, right?”

“Mm. Doesn’t make you any less of a hoodie thief.”

That earns her a pillow on the face.

“Personally, I think you’re some lost princess though," Kara divulges.

Lena lets out a loud incredulous laugh at that.

“What?" Lena blurts out, "You think I’m a princess?”

There’s a cheesy pick-up line there somewhere that Kara chooses to ignore.

“Well, you have the whole Snow White look down to a T, after all. Pale skin, dark hair. The whole ensemble really.”

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Lena groans, “but, I think you might be right. God, I even have the whole evil stepmother-stepbrother dynamic down. Does that make you one of my dwarfs?”

“Dwarf? Really? Lena, really?”

She’s glad to learn that Lena had picked up a thing or two from their Disney marathons. That doesn’t mean Kara appreciates being called a dwarf though. She sits up and leans back on her elbows too; their faces inches from each other now. Lena’s eyes gleaming with mischief.

“You turn into Grumpy when someone eats your ice cream.”

Kara gasps, clutches her heart as if wounded and falls down dramatically. Lena just laughs at her, lies down again before asking, “Think I’ll find Prince Charming there, then?”

“You don’t need Prince Charming.”

I’m right here.

“True,” Lena agrees. Lena doesn’t need anybody, although would it really hurt if she says that she needed Kara the way Kara needs her?

“Ireland seems like the best place to run off into the sunset though," Lena wonders aloud.

“Is that what you wanna do?” Kara asks, “Just run off into the sunset?”

Because, because, if it is, I can do something even better. I can fly you off into the sunset. All you have to do is ask. Her heart is galloping in her chest and she’s grateful that out of the two of them, she’s the only one with super hearing.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lena answers and Kara lets out a none too subtle breath of relief.

“You don’t have to search for a home, you know,” Kara whispers. She just- She just needs Lena to know this, okay?

“I know,” Lena answers. “I still need to do this though.”

Once Lena Luthor makes up her mind there’s no changing it, it’s something Kara’s come to know through the years.

“You’ll come back soon though?”

“Maybe. Honestly, Kara? I don’t really know about ‘soon’. How close is ‘soon’ anyway? Would there even be a good reason for me to come back?”

How Kara held her all screams in the moment Lena said that, she doesn’t know.

******

There are balloons and cake and confetti but it doesn’t feel anything remotely close to a party.

It feels more something along the lines of, train wreck and heartbreak and building on fire. In short, disaster.

She vaguely registers Kelly asking her to hover and hang the banner. Why would she want to hang a banner screaming “We”ll Miss You!” in glittering blue? Kara grabs the ends of it and hangs it up anyway.

We’ll Miss You doesn't even begin to cover Kara’s feelings about Lena’s departure and oncoming absence.

But then again, this isn’t about her.

The door buzzes before Kara can spiral down her blackhole again.

Andrea comes in through the door with a bottle of champagne, which she hands off to Kara along with her coat. Kara fumbles after Andrea.

This isn’t CatCo! I’m not your employee! And champagne? Really? What is there to celebrate?

Lena arrives shortly after and streamers are let out. They make in-jokes and everyone’s laughing and Alex keeps telling Lena to bring home ‘some of the good stuff’ and Brainy keeps asking if he’s allowed to tinker with Lena’s projects while she's away, and Nia’s handing Lena an old film camera, “Document everything for me? Alright?" and Kara’s trying, she really, really is.

Even though she can’t understand how all of them are happy and smiling at the thought of Lena leaving them.

She doesn’t even notice what she’s doing till she’s bracing herself for take-off out in Lena’s balcony, when a hand lands on her wrist.

“Hey.” Lena anchors her back to the ground. It’s a mistake to turn and meet Lena’s eyes.

“Stay? Please?” Lena asks.

Unfair, Kara thinks again. It’s unfair that she gets to ask that.

******

Kara stays.

She stays till the lights are off, the blankets drawn and Lena’s snoring in her arms.

She’s eyeing the suitcase at the corner of the room.

I forgive you, she thinks, I forgive you for taking my heart in the suitcase you packed.

She didn’t even know it was trapped inside till Lena’s zipping everything up and Kara couldn’t breathe.

“Please, please, don’t go,” she pleads into the dark. .

Lena shifts, mumbles incoherently and burrows deeper into Kara.

******

The runway is shimmering after the early morning drizzle, and Lena Luthor looks like someone from a magazine, standing there in her velvet coat and aviators. There’s only the two of them, and there’s a smug pride in Kara about the fact that Lena didn’t want anybody here but her.

She’s leaving today. In a few hours, they’ll be on different continents. Kara wouldn’t be able to trace her heartbeat anymore. Lena made her promise not to chase the plane. She’s still pretty bummed about that.

“You know I’m gonna call you everyday, right?” Kara mutters in her ear, arms wrapped tight around Lena.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Kara Danvers.” Lena squeezes back, before pulling away.

“G-good.”

“Well, this is my ride,” Lena tells her, gestures to the jet behind her. “This is goodbye then.”

“For now.” Kara insists.

“For now.” Lena confirms, “Goodbye, for now.”

She turns to go but Kara can’t-

“Lena, wait.”

She tugs on Lena’s hand and she comes back to her willingly. Before Kara loses the nerve, she presses into Lena’s lips. She cups her face gently, feels the warmth of the sun on her cheeks, feels the moment Lena’s brain catches up to what’s happening.

It doesn’t taste like goodbye, Kara realizes. It tastes like a promise of something more.

“What was that for?” Lena breathes out, Kara can hear their hearts hammering in sync.

“Your reason to come back home.”

[special shoutout to @mssirey who gave great writing advice to this poor hapless writer（〃｀ 3′〃）i kith u on the forehead. ]

[scruffyssketchbook]

castle vees idea :)) -e

off anon to submit a long block o' text and yes i am the OCvees submitter from wayyy back too if you remember that (i have a lot of eevee ideas)

okay so!!

its sort of medieval but not, because its supposed to be that the eeveelutions have divided into kingdoms with different power structures and they all hate each other ofc, and each kingdom demands you turn into the e-lution (Ex: all umbre-doms must become umbreons or else they are Thrown To The Dungeons for being 'traitors').

the main character is an eevee named Ordi who hails from the Umbreon Kingdom. Ordi (12yo he/they AroAce) is very stoic/bland/serious and follows the kingdom's rules to the T (like a loser). He has a best friend named Jewel, whose outgoing and not afraid to voice her opinions, and he has an older bro (18) named Blanche, who is an umbre that dyed his fur white and his rings blue because he's Edgy and Unique and a Rebel who hates the umbre kingdom

the theoretical comic would start with Ordi in class learning all of this stuff, then the kids who've evolved into umbreons pick on him for not being an umbre yet (11-12yo is the typical evolve age). Ordi ignores them and goes home. at home he talks to his parents (stern government official mom and bored nerd dad, both sort of distant parents but still loving towards their kids, just not obviously) abt not evolving, since his bro Blanche evolved when he was just 9, to which they reassure him that his dad was a late bloomer and evolved at 17 (note: eevees who dont evolve by 18 are sent to facilities to force them to evolve or exile them). Ordi feels slightly better

Ordi runs into his brother as he's applying his blue rings (sorta like stickers over the normal rings? or contacts?) and they banter, Ordi kinda hates him in that "why is he so rebellious ugh!!!" he cant understand why his brother wants to look so flashy. their mom does have red ring contacts and plenty of other umbres have ring contacts too, but its kinda frowned upon to dye ur fur another color cause the black color is kinda a symbol of the umbreons.

anyway Ordi sees his bro sneak out and is partially just curious and partially worried he's doing something against the umbreon code. welp, Ordi is proven right as he follows his bro to the border (to which Ordi is worried about a Vaporeon attack since they border the Vapors, NOT the Flareons which is a trauma thing for the mom's backstory thats not important rn also Blanche's father might secretly be a Flare oop-). there, he sees his brother meet with an Espeon. NOT JUST ANY ESPEON. this Espeon is green. and not just dyed fur!!! she's shiny.

this is the Princess of the Espeons.

Princess Beauty.

Ordi is horrified to realize his brother is meeting with and DATING (and totally conspiring with!!!!) the heir to their mortal enemies' thrown. so ofc he confronts his brother and they get in a screaming match where Blanche tells him not to be a sheep and that he loves Beauty and nothing can keep them apart and Ordi is like "im gonna tell mom!!" Blanche is obvs like "no dont!!!" and Beauty sits there like "uh, im just gonna go-"

so somehow Blanche convinces Ordi NOT to tell mom or dad, and they head home all angy. they sleep and the next day occurs, Ordi goes to school, blah blah, exposition with bullies (the lead bullies are twins who also evolved young BTW. i forget their names or if i even gave them, but one's a guy, one's a girl and they come from a typically rich kid high pressure family). so the typical bullies pick on Ordi and call him an "ever 'vee" but Jewel defends him and gives the bullies a good ol' punch. a Middle School Playground fight ensues and Jewel starts evolving from the exp gained!

but Uh Oh it's morning, and exp gain + friendship (with Ordi) + sunlight = Espeon. so Jewel evolves into an Espeon which is a big No No and she gets taken to Jail. Ordi is shocked and horrified and wants to save his friend. he goes home and his parents sadly tell him this is the way, and his dad says he just has to stay quiet and obedient and do as he's told like always. his mom grimly (hesitantly?) agrees.

Ordi can't accept that his best friend is just gone forever now, possibly in harm's way, because she evolved into something she didnt even mean to!! so he HAS to save her, and, bitterly, he turns to his big bro and asks if his Espeon gf can help save Jewel. Blanche agrees and is like "see how corrupt the system is!" but Ordi wont admit so and says its just one mistake. so Ordi and Blanche go to meet Princess Beauty, who, of course agrees to help them, and Ordi thinks its just cause Beauty wants to save a fellow Espeon and have insight into Umbreon life via Jewel, but Beauty explains its because she believes all the kingdoms should learn to love each other, and that they need to live together in harmony, and that everyone should evolve into what they want. Ordi thinks thats BS but Blanche believes in it whole-heartedly with a side of pessimism like "but like that'll ever happen, all the kingdoms are rotten."

anyway, Beauty says she knows a 'vee who can help them, and that Ordi just needs to find out where Beauty is being held. so Ordi goes home and asks his mom (government official) and she tells him after a bit, and Ordi reports to Beauty. then, at night, Beauty sends a Vaporeon named Dewdrop (they/them) to do the rescue, which shocks Ordi because how the hell does an Espeon know a Vaporeon??? (then it starts to make sense cause duh, Beauty is meeting Blanche at the Vaporeon-Umbreon border, how ELSE would she be there? ...further more, why isnt she at her kindom's royal castle??)

so Dew uses the river to get to the side of the Jail with Ordi (Ordi is not happy abt the swimming and water and makes sure to extra hate it bcus eevees arent supposed to learn to swim until after they evolve in fear they become Vapors). Ordi is also unnerved because Dew doesn't say a single word at all to him, and they look super emotionless and kinda scary (which makes Ordi suspect/fear that Dew wants to kidnap them). Dew uses waterbeam or whatever to try and break a hole/wear down the water, and they do manage to get in!!! Ordi sees Jewel locked up (along with other evolved vees and even a few umbreons, all of which he thinks poorly of tho he does realize the hypocriticalness of his throughts). he tells Jewel he's gonna get her out of there but she's telling him to run, now, and he's like why??

and, predictably, there's an Umbreon police team there and they see Ordi and chase him. Dew takes Ordi and runs and Ordi screams and is like "no!! not without Jewel!" but Jewel uses a new Espeon move of hers (idk which) to knock Ordi away, and he and Dew barely manage to escape into the depths of the river and into the heart of Vapor territory...

or so Ordi thinks. once they surface and stay surfaced, Ordi screams at Dew to take him back and that they cant kidnap him, but Dew just shakes his head and starts walking. with no choice, Ordi follows him and they go to some strange... tunnel, bunker of sorts, that leads to a giant shelter. Beauty is there, and Ordi isnt sure if he's relieved or nervous to see her, but she greets him and questions where Jewel is and Ordi snaps that it failed. Beauty says that now that the guards know their face, they will be after them, and that Ordi cannot go home. Ordi is horrified and denies it and basically throws a temper tantrum, kicking and screaming and yelling (and crying), but then a Sylveon appears and Ordi is shocked into silence because a Sylveon??

everyone knows that Sylveons live like nuns in the mountains, far away from the war, living in bliss and peace and whatever lies they tell themselves. ALL kingdoms hate Sylveons because Sylveons think they're so noble and great being all 'peaceful' and wistful, but that they're naive and think that all kingdoms should just love each other like its a fairy tale.

this Sylveon is named Pixie and she is very hyper. so hyper that she shocks Ordi into silence because he just wasnt expecting it. she welcomes him to the Ever Vee resistance and that he'll love it here and isn't he Blanche's little bro??? aww how cute she can see the family resemblance!! Ordi questions what the heck she's talking about and Pixie lays out some plot stuff, saying that she's the leader of this Ever Vee base, where survivors of the wars and rebels and, well, ever vees can live together. Ordi is stunned, cause he thought that, aside from an insult, Ever Vees were just a group of outcasted unevolved eevees, not a.. rebellion group? Pixie just chuckles and says surprise! and welcomes him once more and says he can room with the other kids since they dont have space! then she just Leaves (giving Beauty a flirty goodbye).

Ordi has shutdown by this point and allows Dew to lead him to his room, where he meets a small, scared Jolteon who has bandages all over one side of her face and eye and is missing an ear. she doesnt say anything, just stares in fear, but then the other girl, a very loud and equally energetic as Pixie Glaceon greets Ordi (the Jolteon also flinches at her volume). Dew leaves them, and when the Glaceon introduces herself as Autumn ("but you can just call me Autie!") and the Jolteon as Jolty ("because we have no idea what her name is cause she wont tell us- well she doesnt say much anyway! more than Dew tho, they never ever talk ever!!") and then asks Ordi for his name and backstory, but Ordi just snaps at her to shut up and that he's had a difficult day. he storms to his bed and crawls in and puts the blankets over his head. he thinks Autie is quiet for once but then hears her whispering very loudly to Jolty about what weedle stung him or some other poke-metaphor for Cranky

the next day, Autie loudly walks Ordi up and he begrudgingly follows her (and she talks the entire way about how she's gonna be the greatest Glaceon warrior one day) and Jolty as they lead him to get breakfast. there, they meet the rest of the cast. the first is Vine the Leafeon, who is Autie's older brother. Vine is reprimanding Autie for being so obnoxious. then walks in Inferno the Flareon, who sneers at the newcomer and complains about having more dumb little kids in the building. Vine tells him that theirs more adults than kids and Ferno tells him to shut up, to which Vine does. Ferno demands Vine get him something to eat and Vine does and Autie glares at Ferno and says he doesnt like him and Ferno says the feelings mutual brat. Autie sticks her tongue out and then, of course, being a rational and mature 17 nearing 18yo, Ferno lits up a fireball at her, a 13yo child. (note: Jolty is also terrified and shaking and clinging to Ordi during this, which he hates/is confused by)

thankfully, another Flareon interrupts, with Dew at her side. this Flareon has a scar down her face, and glares firmly at Ferno and reprimands him. Ferno grumbles and says "Sorry aunt Smolder" and angrily walks away to Vine, who just came back and is oblivious to Ferno attempting to lit his sis on fire. Ferno roughly drags him along with him, even tho Vine wanted to eat with his sis. anyway, the adult, wartorn Flareon introduces herself as former General of the Flareons, Smolder. Ordi tenses, knowing how awful the Flareons are. As Ferno just proved, they are angry, blood-thirsty, aggressive, and vicious monsters who take no prisoners, merely kill for the fun of it. after all, that's why his mom moved away from the Flareon border ('isn't it?' he wonders).

but Autie happily greets and hugs Smolder, calling her mama Smolder. Smolder chuckles and says hello to you to, patting the energetic girl's back. Ordi questions if she's really her mom, but Smolder says no, Autie just enjoys calling her that. Smolder says that Pixie may be the leader, but she's the one in charge of the care for all 'vees in this base, the little ones especially. Ordi feels surprisingly calm with Smolder, but Jolty is still clinging to him and staring at Smolder like she murdered Jolty's family, so he's hesitant to truly trust Smolder or Dew or anyone else for that matter.

anyway, they eat, or whatever, yada yada. there's some yucky "flirting" between Vine and Ferno where it clearly establishes that Ferno is abusive/toxic towards Vine and just using him and Vine is spineless/desperate and stays with him regardless. also establish that Dew is mute and never speaks. some (reluctant on Ore's part)) Autie, Ordi, and Jolty bonding as quick friends. later, Smolder tells Ordi that his brother is here to see him and Ordi mad dashes to his bro.

he is upset to see Beauty with Blanche, but then demands that both of them take him home. Blanche says they cant, that he will be arrested on sight, that even mom and dad know now. Beauty says he's safest here and Ordi argues with them, but, ya know, eventually Ordi realizes that if he goes back he will be treated as though he had evolved into an Espeon, and that he truly is a traitor and then he has some Feelings about that and shuts down once more.

Beauty says she's gonna go talk to Pixie and gives Blanche a quick goodbye peak, then Blanche and Ordi make their way to (somewhere idk, lunch?), where Blanche tries to comfort Ordi that everything will be okay, that he knows its scary but that he'll be safe here and they'll still try to rescue Jewel, but Ordi doesn't respond at all and Blanche gets worried. but they're interrupted when Vine walks out of a room with a bruise on his cheek, to which Blanche is like "woah! Vine, right? are you okay?" and Vine is like "uh, yeah, uhm, its cool, I, uh," and stutters into oblivion when Blanche offers to get a berry to heal him. luckily, Autie saves Vine from his gay malfunction by squealing and hugging her bro happily. she then gets super interested in Blanche because he's "white and blue like a Glaceon!!!"

as Autie pesters him and inspects him, Vine tells Autumn to stop bothering him, to which Blanche questions why she has a Leafeon name when she's a Glaceon. Vine explains that they were from a Leafeon family, but that Autie had been obsessed with being a Glaceon since she was young. Ordi questions in disgust why a vee would ever want to not be what their kingdom was (doesnt she have any pride?) to which Autie exclaims that Glaceons are the coolest ever and who wouldnt wanna be one!!!! Vine explains further, saying that Glaceons rescued them when they were young and had gotten caught in an avalanche. Ordi is shocked and questions why Glaceons would save Leafeons when everyone knows they hate each other as much as Umbreons and Espeons do. Blanche starts saying that its ridiculous propaganda and that vees of any kingdom can get along but Vine interrupts to say "then they destroyed our entire village and left us orphaned."

there's a beat of silence and Blanche just goes "what?"

Vine goes into Backstory Mode and explains that the Glaceons that saved them were soldiers awaiting orders. they saved Autie and him for whatever reason, and were truly kinda nice to them, but that they were still young. Autie and Vine were too young to realize that Glaceons being in Leafeon turf was suspicious and didnt realize they were stationed there, awaiting orders... to destroy their town and capture the icy area that the Leafeons had stolen from them previously. Autie and Vine escaped when the Glaceon that had previously saved them recognized them and gave them mercy. Vine took Autie and ran way, but, Autie could not understand what had happened and idolized the Glaceons still, and, of course, evolved into one. now that she had done so, Vine knew they couldn't go to a Leafeon village, so instead he searched for the Ever Vees until he found Pixie.

And then Autie finishes it with "And now I'm gonna be the bestest Glaceon soldier ever and become their General just like Smolder was!!"

anyway not sure exactly what happens after that, but, basically, Ordi angsts some more but finds himself reluctantly becoming friends with Autie and Jolty, eventually he becomes good enough friends with Jolty that she quietly admits to him her real name is Emma, and also that her family and home was burned to the ground by Flareons. Ordi also becomes closer to Smolder and Dew, as they are both kinda parental figures and mentors to him. Smolder would admit to Ordi that her children were killed by the war and thats why she left despite being a General who had killed so many mercilessly; she could never imagine harming a child but hadnt stopped to realize that she had been killing many via orders to her troops. she forced Ferno to come with her per her brother's request, not that Ferno was happy about that as he still thinks Flareons are superior (and loves how afraid Jolty is of him).

there's some more Vine and Ferno being in a toxic relationship and Ferno being an a-hole to everyone always without remorse. he actually injuries Autie once and that makes Vine snap at him, but then Ferno smacks him and says he cant yell at him like that because he's just a stupid Leafeon who'd be nothing without him (yikes). Blanche comes to Vine's defense and Vine is blushy-blushy. Blanche and Vine become good friends.

there would be some cuts in the comic to Ordi's parents. his mom is super worried (dad is too, but the focus is on the mom), as she thinks about her past and, shocker, it's revealed she had fallen in love with a Flareon, but when she got preggo with his kid, he wanted her to join the Flareon's side, that the kid had to be a Flareon, it was in its blood, but she refused and the Flareon got angry and he and his buddies burned down her neighborhood (no deaths tho). she ran away where she met Ordi's father, who was kind and understanding and boring and they pretending Blanche was his instead of the Flareon's and no one was the wiser.

there's also cuts to Jewel, who plots her escape. when she goes to face a judge for her 'sins', which she thinks is totally stupid cause she'll be imprisoned forever anyway. but then, to her surprise, they say they have a special mission for her, that she can be a spy... at first she denies, but then... shocker!!! her former school bully (purple rings, female twin) appears when she's moping about her decision in a jail cell and the former bully says that she arranged for this by convincing her dad to do so, so that Jewel could have a chance at life! Jewel is shocked and questions why she'd do that and the bully (damn i need a name for her and her bro... Nora and Aron, there) gets a slight blush but says that she admired Jewel for being so strong and defending her friend like that... Jewel questions why she's a bully and Nora is like "i dont know! ...cause my brother is? ...everyone expects me to be perfect cause i evolved early and my dad's rich but i... i dont even know if i wanted to be an umbreon in the first place..." Jewel is shocked, but ends up accepting being a spy per Nora's request.

so anyway, there's some implied romance between Smolder and Dew too. nobody knows Dew backstory but Smolder, who teases them over it sometimes, but only kindly. Dew never says anything, even to Smolder, but they're close anyway (and sign language exists, ya know, although Dew still doesn't use it often). they are the eldest adults at the facility, as its actually kinda just the cast plus a few people who come in and out. even Pixie is younger than them. Smolder has a distrust in overly happy Pixie, who is supposed to be their caretaker, but is never really there when it matters, leaving the responsibility to Smolder.

Ordi also still wants to rescue his bff Jewel, as he doesnt know she's out of jail, and obviously Autie is super eager to stage a rescue, and Jolty is horrified but will follow them anywhere regardless. so, sneaking past their older bros, they leave and attack to sneak into jail again. honestly not sure what happens (Ordi nearly evolves tho? into an umbreon but he doesnt), but it fails, and then Pixie has to rescue them or something. Pixie is unusually cold as she acts like an adult for once and scolds them and says they have to ask her for permission first before they stage pointless rescue missions! when they return, Pixie takes Ordi aside and presents him with an everstone, which immediately horrifies Ordi and he attempts to run away but the door is locked.

Pixie tells Ordi that evolving is a curse and doesnt he want to be free of it? he can be a true Ever Vee then, and he can know everything he wants to. Ordi denies it and tries the door again, it opens, and he slams into Beauty. he hides behind her and tells her what Pixie tried to do, and Beauty is like "what? ...Pixie would never, are you insane? she wants everyone to have the freedom to evolve. i think you're just worn out after your adventure today, why dont you go back to bed?" and Ordi is shocked Beauty doesnt believe him but leaves. Beauty then turns to Pixie like "really?" to which Pixie is like "whaaaat? we need more eevees! not eeveelutions!" Beauty just sighs and says she can't just scare her boyfriend's lil bro like that, or else what will Blanche do if he found out? Pixie gets pouty and is like "your boyfriend??? excuse me. what am i chopped liver?" Beauty laughs and they kiss. (gaslight, girlboss, gatekeep)

anyway, i dunno how the rest goes exactly but its sort of like: we cut to Jewel spying (and Nora being blushy around her when Jewel relays info to her. Aron is still a whiny brat bully to her tho), and she learns stuff about the Espeons who have taken her in. they love their royal family a lot, and Beauty shows up at events to just kinda be paraded around. Espeons, to Jewel's disgust, pride themselves on being pretty (cause stereotypes), and dont have a super strict structure. they hate Umbreons and other 'lutions, but they're kinda lame in Jewel's opinion, because she's always prided herself on her strength, but they think she's weird for focusing on fighting and stuff. anyway, somehow Jewel would get close to the royal fam enough to follow Beauty, and wonders where she's going. she finds out Beauty is going to meet the Sylveons and Jewel finds out that the Sylveons don't just want 'world peace', they want everyone to be 'ever vees' so that they cant be 'cursed into eeveelution unless its pure like a Sylveon, who evolves from affection and love.'

so somehow Jewel and Nora would get into contact with Blanche (cause Jewel is worried about Ordi) and they'd go meet Ordi+ and Ordi and Jewel would have a tearful reunion (and Ordi would question why Nora was there but Jewel would defend her), but then Beauty would recognize Jewel and be like "wait a minute-" and there would be tension and then it'd be revealed what Beauty and Pixie's plans are (that the whole shelter for outcasts and orphans is kinda a lie. its complicated). Beauty and Pixie reveal their backstory, that they used to be BFFs from a young age (both born into the Espeon kingdom; typical Beauty was the princess and Pixie her maid), but as they grew, Pixie loved Beauty so much she evolved into a Sylveon, which then meant Pixie was outcasted, and Beauty was forced through many trials to become an Espeon. Beauty became bitter while Pixie was forced to find the other Sylveons by herself. the Sylveons then kinda brainwashed Pixie into their ideology (not that Pixie realizes that), and Beauty went on to hate her own kind/family for tearing Pixie away from her.

Beauty ended up meeting Blanche by accident because Beauty kept running away from home. she enjoyed running away to meet him cause it made her feel rebellious and stuff, but then Pixie found her and Pixie told her her plans/ideas, and Beauty agreed and also immediately had to date Pixie, but, ugh, Blanche was still her boyfriend and they had to break up. but Pixie told her not to, that they could use him, because Blanche's mother had connections as an official and trusted government official. if they could gain her trust through Blanche, they could use her to upend the Umbreon government while Beauty worked on destroying the royal Espeon family. (to clarify Beauty and Pixie are both evil and bad people who manipulate others for their own selfish goals)

so Smolder steps up and defends the kids but to her surprise her nephew Ferno would defend them/join their side and say that he knew this whole thing was stupid (he's just siding with the more powerful side) and then, when Smolder prepares to fight her own nephew, Beauty and Pixie, Dew joins them. Smolder is shocked, but Dew just guiltily looks away, and then Smolder wont fight, but Blanche, in complete anger, does, and Jewel, Nora, and the other kiddos do too, but obvs Beauty and Pixie are higher level + more experienced (Dew does not fight them; Ferno does but get's K'O'd be Blanche) so Smolder joins and chases them off. Dew looks back apologetically and signs "im sorry"

Vine comforts Blanche for Beauty cheating on him and everything, yada yada aaaandd.... then i kinda dont have any more idea juice lol. Dew would eventually come back and redeem themself/explain themself!! and their backstory would be properly revealed >;3. ...honestly idk their backstory lmao. but yaeh, thats what i can remember of it

thats it!!!!

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 5

very pretty, very beautiful

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: intoxication, swearing, feelings, nightmare, fluff, mentions of a deadly car accident

AN: WHOAH OKAY. So I’ve been thinking about the last half of this chapter every second of every minute for the last two days. It has haunted my dreams, y’all. Thanks to that, you get this before the weekend! Yay! Special thanks to @ghostlightprincess, @anlian-aishang, @cant-spell-slay-without-lay, and @horseanon--simpforall for helping me edit and giving me many encouragements and compliments which, quite frankly, made my head the size of Jupiter. I love you all dearly. As always, let me know what you think in my comments/DMs/askbox!! Don’t be a stranger!! And be kind to yourself and others<3 ~valkyrie

—

(read chapter 4 here)

“I think you’re very pretty.”

I think you’re very pretty?

Fuck. Shit.

“I-I-I mean,” Levi feels his throat tighten and cheeks set ablaze, “You’re very, uh, very beautiful.” He says it because it’s true, and the truth is what Levi relies on when his brain is short-circuiting. You’re more than pretty, more than something as trivial as very pretty, you’re gorgeous and smart and funny and it makes his palms sweat. Recently, you’ve been everywhere: in his bed, in his arms, in the periphery of his life even outside of the apartment. It’s overwhelming, this is overwhelming, how his hands are on you and how you’re looking up at him with insecure, anticipatory eyes. They’re glassy and red-rimmed, pupils blown to saucers.

Oh. That’s right, she’s high.

Levi lets his hand drop from the top of your head. He tries to move his other hand away from your cheek, but you grasp his wrist to keep it there. He can feel his own pulse fluttering under your fingertips.

“Very beautiful?” It’s soft, hopeful.

He forces himself not to retract the statement (because it’s true) out of self-preservation.

“Very beautiful, kid.” He can say it without stuttering this time. It’s important that you believe him, and it’s equally important that this is as far as it goes.

You close your eyes against the pet name and turn your face into his palm for a split second, press a swift kiss to it and then drop your hand to your lap. His heart stutters. He drops his hand, too.

“Thank you,” the words fall past your lips, careful and distant, as he takes a step back.

He needs some space. To get his head on straight, to scream into a pillow, to talk some sense into himself. Can’t risk this, not with you, not with you.

“Your, um, your pajamas,” he points to the end of the bed where they’re sitting in a neat pile, then turns tail and strides out of your room, shutting the door behind him.

In his room, his jelly legs finally give out and he flops onto his bed.

Fucking hell.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

What kind of question is that? Do you not think you’re pretty? Do you care if he, specifically, thinks you’re pretty, or was it intended more generally? Very pretty, very beautiful. What does that even mean?

Levi may not be eloquent in the least, may not know how to confess that you make his every breath burn in his chest, but he does know how to paint. He stands up, wiping sweaty palms on his flannel pants and examining the painting on his easel. His mom stares back, her eyes sparkling, her hair tumbling over one shoulder in ebony waves. It had taken him the last few days to get the curls just right, and when he added the last highlights of shine, it’d finally felt complete.

“Sorry, mama,” he murmurs as he lifts her to set her against the wall under the window.

A new canvas procured from his closet finds its place on the easel. He sifts through his supply drawers for a moment, setting paints and brushes and charcoal neatly on his desk.

He takes a deep breath, situates himself in his wheelie chair, and leans forward to start sketching.

—

It’s 5 AM when you start screaming in a long, shuddering cry, causing Levi to jolt up in his seat, paintbrush poised over your left temple. It breaks off into sobs that make his gut twist and hands clench. A long moment, then you’re letting out another keening wail and Levi is out of his seat. Paint splatters from the brush where he drops it on his desk and his chair rolls back as he runs, ripping doors open and narrowly avoiding furniture in the dark.

You’re sprawled out, thrashing on the bed, sheets tangled with your legs. Levi sits on the edge of your bed, brows pinched in worry, and reaches for your shoulders. This is okay — he can touch you when you ask for his help. When you whimper and reach for him in your sleep, he can pull you close and smooth a hand across the planes of your back. It’s when you’re looking at him, all trusting and expectant for something, that he’s unsure.

He says your name, low and urgent, once, twice, before your eyes open mid-sob. They’re wide and terrified, your jaw tight, muscles clenched. “It’s me, kid, it’s just me,” he intones, “It was just a dream, you’re safe, it’s just me.”

Your heaving chest slows for a second, hitches somewhere in your sternum, and then you’re launching yourself forward and into him. He catches you there, steady against his chest.

“Breathe.” He sets an example with his own deep breaths.

It’s a long minute before he feels you relax at all, before he feels you sigh against his neck. Your arms are tight around his middle and you must be stronger than you look because after a while it starts to pinch. He doesn’t mind, though, just traces patterns on your back and stares at the pale wall.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He feels you shake your head.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

You hesitate before you whisper, “Only if you stay.”

Levi thinks about the wet paintbrush currently drying to his desk. He thinks about the mess of clothes on your floor. He thinks of the half-finished painting of you in his room. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You pull back, and he gets a look at your face in the near-dark. Your eyes are still acutely haunted, but they’ve regained awareness. He lets you take a moment to wipe at your cheeks as he reaches to gently disentangle the sheets and spread them more carefully over your legs.

He looks up at you again to catch your sad eyes with his. Your head is tilted quizzically, knowingly, sympathetically all at once as though he were the one who just woke up screaming. It makes him itch.

“What’s that look for?” he grumbles, toeing his slippers off and tucking them under your bed.

“Nothing,” you hum. “Come here, please.”

He blinks at you for a second. That’s my line. But he goes, crawling into bed with you and slipping under the covers. He lets you tug his arm gently so that he’s on your chest. He gets comfortable there, one arm thrown over your waist and head rested over your heart. Your own arms find a home cautiously around him. You exhale with the grounding pressure of his body on yours and let your mind sink into calm release.

—

The knock on your door breaks your attention from your laptop. You sigh, finish typing your sentence, and push your blue light glasses up your nose before standing up to answer it.

You’re not expecting anyone, but maybe Levi is. He’s been holed up in his room all morning, Chopin drifting lazily under his door, probably studying. Like you’ve been trying to. The second series of knocks on your door makes you jog the last few steps to pull it open.

“Hi—” the greeting dies in your throat when you see who’s standing there.

“Hi,” Annie says. She’s standing, nonchalant as ever, in her winter parka and leggings, holding two to-go cups and a pastry bag.

“What?” It’s a breathless question, genuinely confused. It doesn’t harbor the animosity you would expect — you’re not sure you can feel anything other than queasy right now.

“I got your voicemail.” 

You blink in confusion. She rolls her eyes and thrusts the to-go cups at you with a brief “hold these” before reaching into her pocket for her phone. You just stare at her while she taps and scrolls for a minute. She looks the same as before you stopped speaking: blonde hair tucked into a bun at the back of her head and hoodie peeking out of the collar of her jacket. Maybe a little more tired, though Annie always seemed to be tired.

She holds up her phone for you to hear as a voicemail starts playing and, to your further shock, your own tinny voice spills out. It sounds like you’re crying, and slightly muffled.

“Annie, hi, um, I know it’s late but I couldn’t think of anyone else to call, I just,” sniffle, “I know we’re not talking and I’m still mad at you, like REALLY MAD, okay? But I couldn’t think of who else to call and long story short I think I’m in love with Levi and he might’ve just rejected me but I just couldn’t tell—”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut in across your own voice, stepping into the hall with her and toeing the door almost shut behind you. She stops the voicemail. “But why are you here?” You know why she’s here — Annie never backs down from anything, and you had started the conversation, even if you’d been drunk and high and half asleep and you don’t really remember doing it.

“You called, here I am. That’s what best friends do.” Her tone is even.

“Not best friends who fuck their best friends’ boyfriends,” you snap, anger finally bursting from your stomach and into your throat.

She closes her eyes impatiently, sighs, then looks at you again not quite pleadingly.

“Look, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave. But I’m here now and there’s more to the story that you aren’t aware of.”

“What else could there possibly be?”

“Let’s go for a walk and I’ll tell you,” she offers, then holds up the pastry bag. “I brought coffee and donuts. They’re jelly.”

Jelly donuts are your favorite.

You look down at the cups in your hand. You look back at her steady blue gaze. More to the story.

“Fine.” You turn and kick the door open a little too harshly. “Just let me get dressed.”

She follows you in, even though you don’t extend an invitation, and closes the door softly. You put the cups down on the coffee table and watch her sit in her usual spot on the couch to wait for you out of the corner of your eye. You scowl but say nothing.

It only takes you a minute to shuck off to pajamas and pull on jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots. You don’t bother with a bra.

You knock lightly on Levi’s door and call through, “I’m going for a walk, so make sure to lock up if you leave. I have my keys.” You jingle them as evidence and he grunts in acknowledgment. “Let’s go,” you turn and address Annie, who stands.

The walk down your street to the river is short and habitual, your feet carrying you while your mind races. You can feel the anger and hurt, visceral and stabbing, in your chest. But there’s also something tender there, too, something that acknowledges how you missed your best friend. Something that screams at you to tackle her to the ground and feel her stoic comfort. Instead, you shove your hands deeper into the pockets of Eren’s jacket and kick a pebble, sending it skidding down the sidewalk.

The pair of you reach the walking bridge over the river and pause at the railing. The sky is overcast, threatening a snowstorm. A car beeps downtown, reaching you distantly. Annie hands you a coffee and a donut. You lean against the railing and avoid her gaze.

“So. You wanted to talk. Talk.” You bite into the donut.

She sighs through her nose. “I know what you saw. We… we did kiss, but we didn’t do anything else. We never had sex.”

“Hmm.” A sip of coffee.

“I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. I’m guessing you didn’t exactly listen to Reiner when you broke up with him?”

“I didn’t have time for his bullshit excuses.”

She breaks off a bit of her donut and stares at it contemplatively for a moment, “I know you don’t owe either of us anything, and this isn’t meant as an excuse, but will you listen to why, at least?”

You press your lips together, sneak a look into her devastatingly blue eyes, and nod. What harm can it do? And you have to admit there’s a large part of you that’s been wondering at the why, even if you’ve refused to hear it.

“Okay. Tell me why.”

She takes a deep breath and leans her elbows on the railing before starting to speak, low and pensive.

“I’ve known Reiner and Bertholdt a long time, since we were kids. We’ve always been this… this odd group. You wouldn’t think we were close if you didn’t know us. But it wasn’t always just us.” She pauses, looking distant. “Do you know Porco Galliard?”

Galliard… “He’s a sophomore on the lacrosse team, right?”

“Yeah. Do you know what happened to his brother?”

“He has a brother?”

“Had. Marcel. He was a year older than us but somehow ended up in our little group. And a couple of years ago, senior year of high school, we were all in a car accident. He was home on winter break and we’d all had a little too much to drink, and we convinced him to take us to Denny’s for midnight milkshakes. And, well, there was a winter storm coming in and it’d been freezing rain that week, and we crashed. Marcel died. It was… I hadn’t…” She pauses, tilting her head back to the sky, blinking away tears. “It was horrible.”

Your eyes have gone wide, cast downriver. You don’t know what you’d expected when you walked down here, but it certainly wasn’t this. It wasn’t Annie, only rivaled in her stoicism by Levi, choking back tears and wiping snot from her nose.

“Hey,” you start, voice gentler than it’s been all day. “You don’t have to—”

“No, no, I want to, just... give me a second,” she interjects, wringing out a hand. She takes a deep, purposeful breath.

“Okay,” you whisper, looking back out across the water.

“It, uh, it hit us all really hard, brought us really close together. That’s why we all ended up at school here, actually. It kinda made us realize that, like, time is limited, you know? We don’t have forever. And Bertl, he…” she smiles, watery and reminiscent. “When he asked me out, it felt like a long time coming. It was just about perfect. He felt safe and like home, and… well, you know how in love we were. But I could see that it alienated Rei, at least a bit. He tried not to show it, but I could tell he felt like a third wheel. He was already drifting away from us, still struggling with all this guilt.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That’s a familiar feeling. Guilt. And yet, you’d never noticed it in Reiner, apparently never got close enough to shine a flashlight into his darkest shadows. He’d always seemed so… sunshiney. You clearly hadn’t given him enough credit to dislodge the aura of jock frat boy he projects so brightly.

Soft dough squishes under your fingertips where you’ve resorted to playing with your food instead of eating it as Annie continues.

“And then he met you and fell in love so fast. I was so relieved, I mean, you and I were roommates and it was just perfect, right?” You look at her and see a flicker of hopefulness still there. “I thought maybe you two getting together would bring him back to us, that maybe we’d be alright after all. And at first, it did. But then you moved off campus for sophomore year and he started drifting away again, though he was at least anchored to you, this time. It scared me, it really did.”

She kicks the bottom of the railing lazily, as if to expend the sadness there rather than in her words. The first fat flakes of snow drift down around you. One dances away on your exhale.

“He’s so withdrawn, sometimes, in his own head, and I never know how to reach him there. I didn’t know if he had told you about Marcel, or anything, so I couldn’t go through you. I don’t… I didn’t know what to do, so I just... let it fester. That night, when we kissed, I hadn’t seen him physically for a month. It hurt.”

She looks at you imploringly, like the weight of everything she’s saying lies on deep hurt. You can relate to feeling as though there’s nothing but hurt and guilt and drifting.

“So I figured out where he was from his Snapchat story, abandoned my group project, and went over there to see him. I didn’t know what I’d say or do when I got there, just that I had to get him back, somehow. He was already plastered, you know how he gets, and he wasn’t listening to me, so I just… kissed him. I don’t know what I was thinking, I didn’t know you were there, I didn’t even know you saw until he called me the next day after you broke up with him to chew me out.

“So, long story short,” her voice breaks on a mournful, almost hysterical laugh, “I fucked up the three most important relationships to me in one night because I couldn’t use my words.” She wipes at wet cheeks, not looking at you. “So, um. Yeah, that’s the why, I guess. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or him, but I just… I needed you to know. It wasn’t like, this elaborate affair.”

You aren’t sure how to right your brain from the way it’s tilted off kilter. It’s so much, so different from what you’d built up in your head. There’s no conspiracy, no grand intention to break you.

Even with all this new information, what stupidly slips out first is, “Did he kiss you back?” You blanch, turn to her with wide eyes, “Sorry, that’s not exactly im—”

“No, it’s fine,” she meets your eyes. “He did kiss me back.”

“Oh. Okay, um…” you trail off, bite your lip. You don’t know what exactly to say. Your skin is tight with the urge to forgive her immediately and wholly, but logic holds you back. Now that you know the truth, you need time to heal and get some perspective. You straighten up from where you’d been slouching against the railing. “Okay. You’ve been honest, so I will be, too.”

She stands up fully as well, facing you with one hand on the railing.

“I don’t know how I feel right now,” you start. “I think I need some time and perspective. But, I… I can see now where I went wrong, too. I assumed the worst, didn’t let any communication happen.” You swallow down the lump in your throat threatening to choke your voice. “And, I wasn’t there for Rei like I should have been. I had no idea — no idea! — what he was going through.”

“Well, he didn’t exactly tell you—”

“And why is that?” Your voice breaks, squeaks with the question. “Did he feel like he couldn’t confide in me? Did I make it too much about me and my trauma? I wasn’t exactly shy about telling him my shit.” You take a long draw of coffee. “Anyway. I should probably talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

She nods. “He’d like that.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, watching the sparse snow flurry around you. Annie finally starts eating her donut.

“I’ve missed you,” you confess into the storm. “A lot.”

“I missed you, too.”

Your chest aches with both the cold air and the conflicting feelings of relief and regret.

“Why, uh… why didn’t you tell me all that stuff about Marcel?”

She leans on the railing again, takes a sip of coffee before answering. “I was still working through it. Still am, rather. I didn’t know how to bring it up, or that it was relevant.”

You hum, nodding. “I get that.”

There’s another silence, but it feels lighter, less charged. There are still questions bouncing around your mind, but you decide it’s better to process through them on your own rather than blurting out something stupid. Perspective.

“So,” she shoots you a look under blonde eyelashes, “what’s this about you being in love with Levi?”

“Aw, shit,” you laugh, leaning your elbows back on the railing and giving her an imploring look. “It really snuck up on me.”

“Is that so? Can’t say I’m shocked.” Her tone is dry, a little amused around the last bite of jelly donut. She wipes her fingers on her leggings and faces you. “And you think he rejected you.”

“Well, I…” you cringe, thinking back to last night. “He called me very beautiful.”

“Doesn’t sound like a rejection.”

“It was the way he said it! Like it physically hurt him to admit, and then he just ran out of the room,” you whine, scrubbing a hand down your face.

“I think that’s just his emotional constipation.” 

You look at her sharply, mouth agape, to catch her eyes dancing and the corner of her lip curling upward slightly. “Annie!”

“What? I’m right.” She finishes off her coffee, tilting back the cup to catch the last dregs of it. “He likes you, or he’s an idiot if he doesn’t.”

You narrow your eyes in doubt, mirroring her half-smile. “Hmm. We’ll see.”

“Yes,” she promises, crumpling up the pastry bag in her fist and stuffing it in her pocket. “We will.”

—

(read part 6 here)

[watermelonlipstick]

Surprise

Everyone was so nice about my first Dean fic, here’s a Sam one! Again, thanks in advance for any critiques or advice!!

Title: Surprise

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4904

Summary: Mostly fluffy, a little smut, some angst when the reader realizes she’s late.  

Warnings: One smutty bit--separated by spacing, some light swearing, oblique mention of abortion, pregnancy

gif by study-of-supernatural

           Dean tossed his phone onto the car seat next to him. “That thing in Cleveland sounds like vamps for sure. So we’ll just drop you off at the bunker on the way.”

           You looked quizzically at him in the rearview mirror. “Drop me off? No, I want to come.”

           Dean flicked his eyes up to the mirror to make eye contact. “Well you obviously can’t go hunt vampires right now, so, sorry.” He turned the key in the ignition and threw the Impala in reverse. Before he could back out of the parking lot, Sam stopped him.

           “Dude, what? She’s hunted vampires with us dozens of times.”

           “I’m not taking you to a vampire nest when you’re, you know, parting the red seas,” Dean addressed his response to you in the rearview mirror rather than Sam. “Too dangerous.”

           “Oh my god,” you said under your breath, stunned. “You did not just say that.”

           Sam’s eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, his lips parted while he tried to find something to say. Dean looked over at him in an exaggerated “what?” grimace.

           “Dean, it is so fucking weird for you to know that,” Sam insisted.

           “No it’s not, she was talking about cramps when we were at Jody’s a few months ago, it’s not that hard to keep track of 4 week chunks,” Dean tried to justify.

           “We are not talking about this, Jesus Christ!” you snapped, startling both brothers. They turned in their seats to look back at you. “And Dean, not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I am not on my period.”

           “Wait, yeah you are,” he started, ignoring your glare and the awkward tension building in the car. “We were in Sioux Falls for fourth of July on a Wednesday, then that would mean 4 weeks later was the witch in Nebraska, and two days ago was Wednesday. So that’s another 4 weeks,”

           “Dean!” Sam interrupted, his hands thrown up in frustration. “What the hell?!”

           “Again, and I don’t know how much more I can emphasize this, it’s none of your concern at all, but I’m not on my period and I will be coming to Cleveland,” you responded, leaning back in your seat to indicate that you would not be discussing the matter further. Dean sat for a moment before rolling his eyes and backing up out of the parking lot, seemingly having given in.

           After a few moments, the implications of Dean’s too-keen observation started to sink in. You had been on your period at Jody’s, because you remembered being thankful that you weren’t in a grown-up magical frat house and rather a normal home with some other women for it. Normally you loved living with Sam and Dean, but there was a certain kind of comfort and camaraderie that only other people with periods understood. And his math was right, that would’ve been 8 weeks two days ago. Had you been on your period during the witch hunt in Nebraska? Dammit, you couldn’t remember at all. As you often did when surprised with it during a job, you cursed the fact that you weren’t the kind of person who wrote something down on a calendar about your cycle.

           You shifted in your seat, trying to calculate. Fuck. Why couldn’t you remember if you were on your period in Nebraska? 2 days late wasn’t that big of a deal, but if you were a month late… You watched Sam try to rub some tension out of his neck absentmindedly. Was he wondering the same thing you were?

           This was not the time to be worried about it. You couldn’t figure out anything either way in the car—what were you going to do anyway, count the number of extra tampons you had in your bag?—and relatively soon you’d be in Cleveland. There would be opportunities to talk to Sam alone, to get to a drugstore, to figure this out. You took some deep, deliberate breaths. By your estimation, it would take about 7 hours to get to Cleveland. Curling up in the darkness of the backseat, you dozed fitfully until Dean woke you up to grab some food. Stressed but knowing that the boys would notice if you didn’t eat, you forced down the better part of a buffalo chicken sandwich and gratefully relinquished your fries to Dean. You couldn’t tell if Sam seemed nervous or just tired through dinner and knew better than to ask in front of Dean.

           When you got back in the car, you offered Sam the backseat so he could stretch out and sleep. Singing along to Creedence Clearwater Revival with Dean helped take your mind off of the racing questions until finally the Impala pulled into a motel outside Cleveland. You grabbed a top sheet and pillow off of one bed to put on the couch as you usually did on the road with Sam and Dean, and were asleep by the time you slipped your boots off under the plasticized coffee table.

           The next morning, you carefully slid Dean’s keys out of his jacket as it hung on a chair. Your hope was to be back before either of them woke up, and you knew you were pushing it. Sam and Dean had been asleep for a little under 4 hours, and you knew it would be miraculous if they stayed down for a 5 hour stretch. Gently catching the door behind you, you didn’t hear any movement on the other side and hoped for the best.

           The first drugstore you found was a little mom-and-pop establishment with a very sweet looking woman in her mid 60’s behind the counter. She was eating what looked like a cruller and drinking coffee from a steaming ceramic mug while reading a magazine. You congratulated yourself silently for brushing your hair to look more presentable to her as you pushed three pregnancy tests across the counter. She brushed off her hands on a small white apron tied around her waist and smiled warmly as she rang up the tests.

           “Sweetie, do you want a bag for these?” she asked.

           “No, I, uh,” you stammered, realizing you were more nervous than you had convinced yourself you were on last night’s drive. She softly touched the back of your hand on the pregnancy tests and pointed down a little side hall next to the counter.

           “Bathroom’s on the right,” she offered graciously. You nodded, taking the tests with you as you followed her directions. Unbuckling your jeans, you almost thought “I can’t remember the last time I took my pants off this fast,” chuckling aloud when you realized you absolutely could remember the last time your pants were taken off this fast. God, how stupid could you both have been? If your gut was right, that you had skipped your period in Nebraska, it meant your slipup with Sam at that bar in Montana was the likely culprit. Normally so careful both about making sure Dean wasn’t around to find out as well as protection, you were playing with fire that night. You had been stealing sultry glances at Sam for hours as Dean ripped through shots. Dean had found some bikers to play pool with, and you’d been brushing against Sam for longer than you needed to every time you snuck by the table for another round. The guys were fun and loud, and made the three of you feel at home. Dean was in the middle of being convinced to sing karaoke when you reapplied your lip gloss slowly with Sam’s eyes on you, and Dean was too caught up with the start of both another round of whiskey and a new game when you had told Sam you were headed to the powder room.  

           He had given you about a 2 minute head start before slamming open the door of the bathroom, crashing into you as a long arm cracked the lock into place. Sam, normally sweet and gentle Sam, had reacted to your teasing him all night exactly the way you wanted to, the heat and urgency and need searing through him as he tore at your belt buckle and you at his. He gathered a handful of hair at the base of your neck as he kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip. You groaned as he moved down your neck, his hot breath sending electrifying chills down your spine. Suddenly his other hand was under your thigh, and he pulled you up to sit atop the old porcelain sink. Your jeans held on to your right leg for dear life as you tried to yank free of them, ultimately getting only your left out before Sam’s impatience got the better of him and he left your mouth to drag his tongue, long and languid, across your clit. When you gasped, he pulled firmly on the handful of hair he still had, arching your back into the mirror behind you.

           You hadn’t even thought for a split second of the consequences when you had pulled him into you on that sink. All that had mattered for those fervent salty minutes was the rhythm of Sam pounding you into the bathroom wall, hearing the creak of the sink ache underneath you, feeling the throbbing of yourself around him, the shiver you felt in his arms when you licked at his neck and earlobes. When he finished, sticky and hot on your stomach and inner thigh, you had cleaned up as fast as you could before getting your clothes back on, checking both of yourselves in the mirror for evidence before leaving one at a time to rejoin Dean and your new friends. You remembered the way you had ached so good in the days following, the way Sam blushed the next day when you winked at him over pancakes.

           In a way it felt poetic, to be once again in a strange bathroom. You lined up the tests next to the sink as you washed your hands, begging for time to move more quickly. One by one their results developed in cloudy blue words.

                                                  Pregnant

           Fuck.

           By the grace of God, Sam and Dean appeared to still be asleep by the time you got back to the motel room. You slipped Dean’s keys back into his jacket pocket and took off your boots, lying back down on the couch to pantomime sleep as you tried to figure out your next move. Sam roused first, and you jumped on the opportunity to talk before he got to the shower, startling him as he walked by the couch to get to the bathroom.

           “Sam, can I talk to you?” you whispered.

           He jolted before closing his eyes hard. “Yeah, of course. Sorry, you scared me,” he responded, his voice rough with sleep. “Two seconds, ok?”

           “Yeah sure. I’ll be outside,” you said, shoving your feet into your boots and heading for the small cast iron bench outside the motel room. Sam came out a few minutes later, smelling of toothpaste and looking like he had raked his fingers through the worst of his bedhead tangles. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in.

           “What’s going on?” He looked concerned, and you realized you probably weren’t keeping the worry off of your face as well as you would’ve hoped.

           You took another deep breath, trying to keep your voice level as you responded. “So, Dean being a creep yesterday got me nervous, because I think he might be right,” you started. Sam’s earnest eyes encouraged you to keep going. “In that I’m supposed to be on my period right now. And I should’ve been on my period in Nebraska. But I’m not now, and I wasn’t—” Sam finally made the realization you were leading him to, his eyes widening as he held your gaze. “—in Nebraska, so I took a test, really three tests, and I think I’m pregnant,” you finished, the words tumbling out of your mouth like an avalanche furtively mumbled outside the Ohio hotel room. “And I, uh, you’re obviously the only person I’ve been with, so I thought you should know.”

           Your voice cracked on the last words, and you bit your lip to hold back the involuntary tears. Sam took your shoulders in each hand and looked into your eyes. “Hey. Hey, okay, look at me. Everything’s okay.” He pulled you into a firm hug, his ropey muscles around your shoulders and back feeling like an anchor in a storm. You stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to breathe smoothly around the lump in your throat threatening to burst while Sam gripped you tightly. When you shifted your weight, he let go and left a stabilizing hand on your lower back for a moment. You and Sam sat on the bench side by side staring out at the half-full parking lot in the morning dew.

           Sam cleared his throat. “What do you want to do?” he asked softly. You were worried if you looked at him you’d start crying, so you kept your eyes locked on the asphalt.

           “I don’t know, I guess. Hadn’t really thought that far,” you said honestly. “I mean, how many pregnant hunters do you know?” You finally looked over at Sam when he didn’t respond. His brows were knitted together as he looked at his hands in his lap.

           “Not very many, I guess,” he mumbled, barely audible. He straightened his spine and set his jaw. “If that’s what you want to do, I totally get it. I’m here no matter what you decide.”

           “Well, what would you do?”

           “It’s not my call.”

           “Sam, I’m asking because I want to know. What would you decide?”

           “I’d give it a shot,” he said, firmly but quietly. “I think we could do it.”

           You let his answer hang in the air for a moment. “Are you sure?”

           Sam chuckled, looking back down at his hands before meeting your eyes. “Pretty sure.” He smiled, a small and self-conscious smile that made him look more unsure of himself than you’d ever seen him. When you smiled back at him, a tear slipped past your eyelashes. You wiped it away furtively as you began to laugh. Then Sam was laughing with you, his own eyes wet and bright. For the first time since you were in the car yesterday, you didn’t feel like you were racing and clawing to stay afloat. It felt like maybe things would be okay.

           You heard a creak and saw Dean’s head poking out of the motel door. His hair was unkempt and the neck of his t-shirt was stretched out; he’d clearly just woken up. He squinted a puffy eye at you both. “What’re you guys doing out here?”

           You gasped for breath in between your hysterical giggling. “I’m pregnant,” you managed to squeak out.

           Dean’s head kicked back into his neck as he opened his eyes wide. “This feels like a conversation I should have pants on for.”

           “So you’ve got a bun in the oven,” Dean said, pouring syrup over a short stack at a nearby diner. “Is this a moment for congratulations?” He squinted at you, carefully trying to keep his expression neutral.

           “Um, yeah, I think so,” you said shyly. Eggs had seemed like a good idea when the waitress came over, but now the idea of putting them in your mouth was too much. Dean seemed to read your mind, rolling his eyes and forking a pancake onto your plate.

           “Who’s the baby daddy? Should I be calling Springer?” Dean smiled slyly. Sam was notably quiet, looking down at his omelet like it had all the secrets of the Rosetta Stone.

           “Shut up,” you said, grimacing at him. “Between the two of us, I think you know who should be more scared about a random baby coming into the picture.”

            “Fair enough, I yield,” Dean chuckled. “Seriously though, who’s big papa?” Dean took a comically large bite of sausage, and you waited a beat to make sure he wasn’t about to choke.

           “Sam.”

           Dean coughed and sputtered around the bite of sausage, snatching his coffee to help him swallow. He bared his teeth when he realized how hot it was and pounded a closed fist on his chest. “Good one, jackass. Seriously, who is it? Maybe that detective from Sioux Falls who’s always getting you coffee cake when we’re there?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

           You shot a look over to Sam, who clenched and unclenched his jaw before looking up at Dean. As was often true, they were communicating with their eyes in a way you couldn’t understand. Sam raised his eyebrows slightly, and Dean closed his eyes very deliberately before putting his fork down and steepling his fingers on the table. “You guys have got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered under his breath. He opened his eyes after a long moment and sucked on his teeth. “Start talking,” he growled.

           “We’ve been, you know, uh, spending a lot of time together—” Sam started before Dean waved a dismissive hand in the air.

           “How long?” Dean asked, still steely.

           Sam gulped hard and pursed his lips. “Like 7, 8 months?” He looked to you for confirmation and you nodded slightly.  

           Dean’s nostrils flared and he bit his bottom lip. “Eight goddamn months, Sam? Are you kidding me?” You tried to meet Sam’s eyes but he was avoiding Dean by looking out the diner window. “Sam!” Dean barked. You watched an older woman a few tables away look over at your table and threw a weak wave her way to apologize for the noise.

           Sam finally turned to look at Dean. “Dean, I don’t know what you want me to say. Yes, eight months. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, it just didn’t seem like the right time and then a lot of time had passed, and—”

           “—it didn’t change anything so there wasn’t really any point to talking about it,” you finished. Sam gave you a tight smile to indicate his thanks.

           Dean looked from you to Sam and back before picking his fork back up and stabbing another piece of sausage a little harder than necessary. The fork scraped against the plate unpleasantly. He raised it to his mouth before reconsidering, letting it clatter to the plate. “Sam, I asked you like five times if there was something going on and you said no every single time. What the hell, man?”

           You leaned back in the booth and watched as Sam chewed his lip nervously. On some level, you were glad it seemed like Dean wasn’t as mad at you as Sam, but you felt guilty both for not having told Dean and that Sam was incurring his wrath alone. Sam let his head loll back on his neck.

           “Well?” Dean repeated. You could sense now the note of sadness in his voice peeking out between the waves of anger. Sam still didn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

           “I, uh, I don’t know,” he finally answered softly.

           After a long stare, Dean finally went back to eating. You and Sam followed, and the three of you ate silently for a few minutes.

           “You’re keeping it, then?” Dean asked, his voice low and raspy as he kept eating.

           You finished your bite and took a sip of orange juice before answering, hoping this meant Dean had processed some of his anger. “I think so. I just found out this morning so it’s all happening kind of fast. Sam said he wants to try.” A smile crept onto your face involuntarily as you looked over at him.

           “You cannot just try with a fucking kid, did you two get dropped on your heads? You’re going to what, put a play pen in the dungeon of the bunker we live in? Do you hear yourselves?”

           You winced. “Dean, I don’t know, okay? You’re right. I don’t know. I don’t think Sam does either. I’m just trying really hard not to freak the fuck out right now, and I gotta be honest: you’re not helping.” You reached out to squeeze his hand. Dean allowed it but didn’t squeeze back. “Please. I don’t know what to do.”

           Dean’s face fell and he rubbed a quick circle in the back of your hand before pulling away to stroke his face. He looked so tired suddenly. “Are you guys leaving now then?”

           Your eyebrows and Sam’s communicated your confusion. “No one’s leaving. There’s still a job here, regardless of whatever soap opera bullshit we have going on,” you said.

           “Get real, like either of us is going to be able to focus on a hunt if we know you’re cracking necks pregnant.” Dean scoffed.

           “Okay, then she can stay in the motel and we can talk about this more back at the bunker,” Sam offered, ever the peacemaker. You glared at him but he specifically avoided meeting your gaze, knowing you’d be frustrated at this plan.

           “I’m done talking about this right now,” Dean said abruptly, yanking his wallet out of his pocket and throwing far more money on the table than the bill would’ve cost. He started toward the door, leaving you and Sam to run after him or risk being left.

           The car ride was silent and tense. When you got back to the motel, Sam and Dean stayed in the car as you got out alone.

           “We’ll probably only be a couple hours, just to the morgue and back. See you soon?” Sam asked.

           “Not really a ton of places I could go with no car,” you responded.

           “I’m sure you could figure something out,” Sam chuckled. You saw Dean’s hand tighten on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white.

           “Dean, is your suit in the trunk or do you want me to grab it?” you asked, trying to offer an olive branch.

           “Trunk,” he said curtly. Sam made an apologetic face and waved as they pulled away.

           With the motel in the rearview mirror, Dean’s fist shot out to dead-arm Sam. “Are you fucking stupid? You’re so fucking stupid!” he grunted in between punches.

           Sam tried his best to block Dean, very aware of the road in front of them. “Dean. DEAN! Stop hitting me, alright? Jesus Christ, I get it!” Dean finally stopped and Sam rubbed his sore arm. “God, Dean, I’m sorry, ok? I should’ve been more careful and I should’ve told you.”

           “God, Sam, what were you thinking?” Dean slammed a palm into the steering wheel. “I mean, this has got to be your last job then,” he said, resolute.

           “What? No! I can still be a hunter if she’s pregnant. Plenty of hunters have kids,” Sam snapped.

           “Yeah, like Dad? Jo’s dad? How’d that work out for them? Wake up, Sam. At best you leave her alone raising a kid with no dad, and at worst they both get killed from some crap you get caught up in. If you go straight, get a day job, some house somewhere, maybe you have a shot at keeping everyone alive.”

           “She’s a hunter too, she knows how hard it’s going to be, okay? We’re going to figure it out,” Sam answered.

           “Yeah, you both keep saying that, don’t you? So start figuring it out then, dumbass. Tell me your groundbreaking plan to keep a target on your ass ganking demons and monsters with a baby Björn on.” He looked at Sam condescendingly. “I’m listening, Sammy. Turn on that genius brain of yours and lay it on me.”

           “Enough.” Sam said firmly. “What do you want me to do then, Dean? I can’t exactly take it back, and it’s not like I could force her to do anything even if I wanted to, so tell me what you think I should do!” Sam’s voice rose, the fear coming to the surface.

           The tension hung in the air like a curtain for a long minute.

           Finally, Dean slammed the steering wheel again. “Son of a bitch,” he said emphatically. “Okay. You’re right. We’ve got to figure out what you’re going to do.” He took a deep breath and pushed it out forcefully.

           Sam’s shoulders relaxed noticeably at Dean’s change in tone. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice.

           “Man, eight months? I must be pretty stupid,” Dean laughed, still somewhat angrily.

           Sam realized Dean was trying to lighten the mood and decided to let him have it, despite his bruised feelings. “There were a few times when I thought for sure you knew, to be honest.”

           “Oh yeah? Like when?”

           “Remember when, ah, you came home early from that Die Hard thing?”

           “Drive in double feature that got rained out, hell yeah. I was pissed.”

           “And when you got back to the bunker the kitchen was a mess and she said she was making like, cupcakes or something?”

           Dean’s eyes widened. “Dude, the kitchen? You’re a dog.” He smiled slyly at Sam, who laughed. The mood in the car was lifting like a low cloud after a bit of afternoon sun, and both of them relaxed into themselves for a few minutes of road.

           Dean cleared his throat. “Do you love her?”

           Sam turned to Dean, locking him in his gaze. “I do, yeah,” he said, softly and earnestly.

           Dean thumped a big hand on Sam’s back. “Then congrats, baby bro. Look at you, all grown up. If I’m being honest, I thought I was going to be the one who finally got the girl.”

           “Wait, Dean, if you have feelings for h—” Sam started.

           “No, nah, not now. It’s been years, she’s like a sister to me. Yesterday I would’ve said she’s like a sister to us,” Dean chuckled. “But she’s obviously a gorgeous girl, tough, smart like that? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it when she first started staying with us.” He squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “She’s going to be a good mom, Sammy.”

           “I think so too.”

           In the motel room, you tried hard to focus on whatever Alaskan logging show was on but failed. Dean was right, this whole situation was overwhelming. The moments of hope you had sitting on that bench with Sam seemed lightyears away.

           A few hours later the boys finally walked through the motel door in their suits. Their expressions were unreadable, and Dean had a paper bag presumably of evidence in his hand that he set down on the small kitchenette table. Sam walked over to a bed, loosening his tie and taking off his jacket as he went. Dean mirrored the motion as he sat down at the table. It was always obvious they were brothers, but these small moments of such strong resemblance tickled you, even despite the circumstances.

           “How’d it go?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light as to not reveal the time you’d spent pacing and panicking while they were gone.

           “Seems pretty open and shut, we’re going to hit them tomorrow morning. Apparently they usually close down the tiki bar and then crash for a few hours before hitting the third shifter joints,” Sam said calmly, patting the bed next to him for you to sit down. You complied.

           “You deserve an apology,” Dean began. You tried to keep the surprise off your face so as not to discourage him from continuing. “I wouldn’t have lied about it for the better part of a damn year, but if you guys are happy and everything, I can hardly judge about a slip up. Mistakes happen.” He let out a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. “So, I’m sorry. And I know normally you’d like a nice peaty Irish whiskey, but I figured under the circumstances this was more appropriate,” Dean reached into the paper bag on the table and pulled out a fluffy white cake with big pink, blue, and yellow frosting roses. In graceful, elegant script along the top, it said, 

                                   “Sorry Sam didn’t pull out!”

           You blushed and laughed out loud, reaching over to lightly slap Dean’s arm. “How much did you have to pay them to put that on it?”

           “Oh, they do the writing for free,” he grinned devilishly. “Want a slice?”

           “Sure,” you said, thinking a piece of cake at 10 am couldn’t be any weirder than this day already was. Dean got up to look through the cabinets for the cheap silverware and Corelle plates that seemed standard issue for motels like this.

           You turned to Sam. “What’re we going to do? I mean, it’s not like we can take a baby with us on the road, no offense, and to be honest I don’t know that I want to stop living this life. And I definitely don’t want to leave Dean, or the bunker, or—” Sam stopped you by lacing his fingers through yours.

           “We’ve figured out way more complicated problems than this. We’re going to make it work. If that means babyproofing the bunker or living in a duplex with Dean or driving around the country in a big RV, then that’s what we’ll do. Believe me, I’m scared as hell too. But there is no one I would rather bring someone into this world with. I love you.”

           “Thanks, Bridget Jones’ Diary,” Dean said, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes while you rubbed the beginnings of tears out of yours. “Sam, how big do you want your piece?”  

-

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​

[vhsrights]

A Fast Pass To Love

Pairing: Jemily

Summary: Emily had never been to a theme park, much less Disney Land before. JJ decides to the change that with a week long extravaganza, but some fun things happen on day 1...

WC: 4.7k words

For Mom, Mama, and the rest of the kids of the wack house. (i love all yall) @dykejareau @prentitss @dragisthegame @bridget19 @jay-writes-jemily @ssa-urnansironingboard

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“Emily, the first rule of theme parks is to wear comfortable shoes and no short shorts. You’re going to get a sunburn.” JJ sat on the bed, watching her towel-laden girlfriend look through her suitcase.

“But these ones make me look cute. Fine, I guess I’ll just have to wear these ripped jeans and my green flannel with the graphic tee. Are you all ready?” Emily finished rifling through her things and slipped into the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’m all dressed. I just need to put on my mascara, hat, and shoes. We still have like 20 minutes before we leave, so just go according to that.” JJ tugged at her watch and moved to the edge of the bed, leaning towards the wall mirror to apply her mascara.

Emily spends little time in the bathroom, zipping through her routine and deftly putting on her clothes. She washed her face and put on moisturizer before throwing open the door and reentering the quaint bedroom. Their room had a view of the buzzing city below but was drab with bland walls and sparse artwork. A king bed decorated the middle of the room positioned directly opposite the magnanimous flat screen. The room may have been drab, but its accessories all but made up for it.

“Your mascara face is cute,” Emily announced, watching her girlfriend carefully apply the product, her lips just barely parted.

“Oh, really?” JJ finished her left side and paused, turning to look back at the brunette. She grinned at the devilish smile on her girlfriend’s face and faced the mirror once more.

“Yeah, I think you should do it more often.” JJ looked at Emily through the mirror and playfully rolled her eyes. She then felt the bed sink under Emily’s weight as the brunette climbed on from the other side.

Emily inched forward, careful to not disrupt JJ’s mascara. She knew from experience that it was not a good choice. Coming up behind the blonde, Emily snaked her hands around JJ’s waist. She set her head gingerly on JJ’s shoulder, beaming at their reflection. This trip was a first for her and she couldn’t think of anyone better to do it with. After another minute, JJ brought the tube down, carefully sealing it and setting it off to the side. She leaned back against Emily and placed her own hands on top of hers. “Babe, come on. I’m done. Are you all set with the backpacks and stuff?” She spoke quietly, relaxing into Emily’s embrace. No matter the time, she always found sanctuary in the brunette’s arms.

“But how about, we just sit here? I don’t want to move.” Emily fake pouted.

“Sure, if you want to miss the water rides and all of the food shops,” JJ answered calmly, knowing that Emily simply needed a little incentive to get moving.

“Oh, never mind. Let’s go. I think everything is packed. Here, I have the list so we can go over it.” Emily fished around in her pocket for a quick second before pulling out a neatly folded piece of lined paper.

JJ chuckled and moved to grab the dark backpack from the edge of the bed. Grabbing its zippers, she opened it quickly and waited expectantly for Emily. The brunette muttered the first part of the list as she quietly checked with herself for the things that she was responsible for.

“Okay, I have all of the snacks and the water. Do you have the medkit, the socks, the fresh shirt and pants for us both, and sunscreen?” She repeated each item slowly, double-checking with the blonde. The method was tried and true, and once they’d gotten through it all, they were out the door.

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“Never? You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way. It’s not possible.” JJ sat on the carpet on top of her folded legs. She had an incredulous look, not understanding how what Emily was saying could be true.

“Nope. I’m serious, never. Mother just was never the kind for theme parks. Plus, she always had a stick up her ass so because she didn’t want to go, I couldn’t either. She would just find extra lessons to stick me in.” Emily sipped her dry, red wine.

“It was odd never knowing what got kids so excited at theme parks. I mean, what’s so cool about waiting in line for hours on end just to be thrown around in a metal car?”  

“Oh. My. God. I cannot believe you! That’s it. You, Emily Prentiss, are coming with me on a trip to Disney World. We are doing a full week-long trip so that you can see the magic that so many kids that go there, love. I used to go there on school trips and once with my grandparents. It’ll be perfect.” JJ turned back to her wine, missing the love that was so apparent in Emily’s expression.

“Perfect, just like you?” Emily couldn’t stop herself from the sappy comment. She was tipsy and over the moon in love with JJ.

“Yes, you sap. You really are a hopeless romantic. Pen was right.”

“Of course she was. Pen is the “All-Knowing Goddess” and she never fails to live up to it.”

“You know that I like you very much, right?”

“Always, I’m irresistible.”

“Oh my god, no, you’re insufferable.”

“You love that about me.”

“Got me there.”

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The bus ride was turbulent but neither minded. Emily was jittery with excitement and JJ was calmly seated. The brunette had the map to the area that they were visiting in her hands. To her, it looked like someone had drawn spaghetti and put random locations for things on it. But, despite her struggle, Emily refused to ask for help. It was a pride thing. That, and she had told JJ she could do it. She couldn’t go back on her word now. Watching Emily’s internal struggle was amusing for JJ, knowing that the woman would never be able to figure out the map.

“Ah, Magic Kingdom. This is our stop, Jen,” Emily stated boldly with hopes that JJ couldn’t tell that she had no idea where to go next.

“Alrighty, Map Master, where to next?” JJ raised her eyebrows at Emily as they stepped off the shuttle. This is going to be interesting.

“Uh, we can take a left here and go to the Hulk part. Wait, no, that would be a right. Hold on, I know what I’m doing.” Emily’s eyebrows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the winding paths on the page in front of her.

“Sure you do. Take all the time you need.” JJ stood by her, arms folded in amusement.

“Okay, follow me.” Emily faked her confidence, starting off in the left direction. She silently prayed that wherever they ended up was somewhat decent.

After nearly an hour, neither the Hulk ride nor the other options that she had suggested were visible. They had wandered up to the Adventureland area, currently standing in front of what looked like the show’s bar.  They had managed to stop by a couple of the drinks stands and buy things there, but the rides that Emily had wanted were nowhere to be found.

“Do you want my help?” JJ finally chipped in, ready to let Emily stop stressing over the godforsaken map.

“No!” Emily answered immediately, but instantly remembered that she was getting them nowhere. She followed up with another answer, this time more quiet. “Yeah. But only because this stupid map is super confusing and whoever designed it needs to take a map drawing class.”

JJ chuckled and took the reins. From there, they walked for a few short minutes before arriving at the ride that Emily had been searching for. She had just missed the pathway and taken a wrong turn. The blonde beamed over at her girlfriend, who playfully rolled her eyes.

Weaving through the crowds of people seemed much easier with JJ in the lead. They made their way through several rides, including Splash Mountain. The subsequent gift stores that they visited were very attractive as well. Emily and JJ were not immune to their charms, buying a Stitch plushie that both felt was perfect. Its soft, fuzzy texture and inviting look made it exactly what they wanted. Emily even had the thought that they could pass it down to their kids. It would be a memento for the day, one that she knew she would never forget.

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JJ and Emily came up to a small area in front of the castle. Emily’s stomach had growled about three times in the past 30 minutes and they still hadn’t gotten any food. She hadn’t eaten more snacks because JJ had asked her to wait for the Dole Whip that she wanted to try. JJ, on the other hand, was tired. She hadn’t done the whole theme park shebang in years, forgetting the physical toll it took.

She let out a deep sigh, pausing to lean against the partition. A few steps in front of them, two Disney princesses were having a lively conversation. Cinderella, who was a bit taller than Belle, was blushing at whatever the other princess had just told her. Their giggles barely reached Emily and JJ’s ears. Emily smiled at the lighthearted demeanor of the women. They weren’t currently in character, but their costumes and attitude alone were enough to make the Disney World experience magical for children.

Cinderella looked over Belle’s shoulder and caught Emily’s eye. The woman beamed and waved. The gleeful energy radiated off of her. Belle turned around upon seeing what Cinderella was doing. She also waved at the couple, getting a nonchalant wave from JJ and Emily.

JJ pulled out her phone, looking up if the restaurant she had wanted to go to for dinner was still open. The sun’s rays beat down on the couple but JJ and Emily had learned to weather it after years of travel. As she was scrolling to find the link to their website, Emily and JJ heard a squeal in their vicinity. Both of their heads jerked upwards, searching for the source of the outburst.

Their eyes landed on a child that looked roughly 7 years old, dressed in a Belle costume that was similar to the princess that was standing next to them. Poofy fabric and dazzling sequins made the little kid’s gown look extravagant. The petticoat twinkled and flew back against the air as the young princess made their way up to the adult Belle. JJ and Emily didn’t realize what had happened until the princess tugged on the older Belle’s dress, head tilted back to showcase eyes full of wonder.

“You look just like me! I’m princess Belle.” Their voice was high-pitched, sounding almost like an animation in real life. “Mama, look! It’s princess Belle! We look the same!”

The child turned back to talk to a group of people. Emily and JJ’s eyes followed the young princess’ and saw a small group of people. Two women stood close together, the taller one’s arm placed on the other shoulder. On their right, a child had one of the women’s hands in her grasp. She looked between both Belle’s, excitement apparent in her expression, their mouth forming a little “O”. They were dressed as Rapunzel, the light and shimmery purple of the dress popping against their darker, red hair. Accent spots of gold were scattered around the costume, shining amidst the entire ensemble.

The women were not in costume, but their outfits were nonetheless stylish. The taller woman had on a light beige shirt, its sweater-like fabric tucked into light-wash blue jeans that were ripped at the knees. The ensemble was completed with a dark leather jacket that was sleek, not having many embellishments. Beside her, the woman that was holding Rapunzel’s hand was in a sundress. Its material was light and flowy. Patterned lavender flower bouquets were spread across the dress. It had a deep neckline, offset by the floppy sun hat on her head.

Seeing those women and children made JJ’s heart soar. They were exactly what she had pictured in her head of Emily and herself, far off in the future. Getting a glimpse of what that life held for them was overwhelming. In one sweeping motion, the blonde turned Emily’s head to the side and kissed her. Her other hand laid on the brunette’s waist, pulling her closer so that she might never have to let go. When they eventually pulled apart, Emily looked at her with amazement. She didn’t know what had given JJ the sudden need to kiss her, but she wasn’t mad about it.

“Any reason for that kiss, milady?” Emily added the joking lilt to her voice, hoping to understand what had overcome her girlfriend.

“Just, that you’re perfect. Also, those kids, they remind me of what I want our life to be like. Not now, but later in the future. It’s just everything I imagined, and I can’t wait for us to be there.” JJ’s eyes were wide and doe-like, melting Emily’s heart on the spot. She brought her hand up to rest on JJ’s cheek, her thumb brushing against it lightly.

“OH MY GOD. YOU CAN LIKE PRINCESSES TOO?” The women all but jolted up when the shrill voice broke through their bubble.

They turned to the origin of the sound, eyes once again falling on the miniature Belle. Their finger was pointed at the couple. A dazzling smile sat on their face, the jubilation barely containable. Emily recovered from the shock and realized what was going on first. She knelt down, making eye contact with the child.

“Of course you can. You like princesses, princes, kings, queens; whatever you want. Look, you see her?” Emily pointed back at JJ, waiting for the little princess to nod. “I really like her, and she happens to be my queen.”  She watched the child’s eyebrows raise, laughing softly at their mirth.

“Wait, can I tell you a secret?” She leaned in as did the kid, their ear tilted towards Emily.

“Well, actually the thing is, I love her and I’m gonna tell her tonight. What do you think? Is it a good idea?” Emily smiled while the thought of telling JJ she loved her filled her with warmth.

The young princess stood back up, switching glances between JJ and Emily. They noticed the way that JJ looked at Emily. Even if the brunette couldn’t see her girlfriend, JJ looked at her like she held the world in her hands. Luca, the child, started jumping up and down.

“Yes! Yes! Do it! Do it!” Enthused, Luca turned to the grownup Belle. They switched glances from Cinderella to Belle, deciding whether or not to ask the question on their mind. “Is she your princess too?”

Luca pointed to Cinderella, asking Belle. The woman in the leather jacket took a couple of steps forward, reducing the distance between herself and Luca. She placed her hand on the kid’s shoulder and looked over at the women gratefully. Emily giggled and so did JJ. Belle, shifting her eyes from Cinderella to Luca and her mother, snapped back into character to answer the question.

“Why yes, she is. We have our own castles too, so whenever we can go to see the Fairy Godmother and the Beast whenever we want! You have to admit, she’s pretty cute too.” The princess snuck a glance back at their girlfriend, excitedly spinning the tail of their “fairytale romance”.

Luca gasped, their expressions amusing everyone around them once more. However, this time they turned all the way around to face the other woman and little kid. Stopping to think for a second, Luca rested their head in their hand. Coming to the conclusion that they wanted, Luca beamed and pointed at the little Rapunzel. Everyone’s eyes followed their finger.

“B! B! B! You’re Rapunzel and I’m Belle! You’re a princess and I love you!” The child that had hung back’s face lit up with the statement.

“Oh my god! We are! I love you too!” The young princess was practically shouting across the short distance between them and Luca.

The words sounded funky because of the slight Irish twang that pervaded her accent but melted everyone’s hearts regardless. Wasting no more time, B broke out into a sprint towards Luca who did the same. They collided mere seconds later, wrapped in the tight hug. Around them, “Mama” returned back to the other woman. Both children stood wrapped in each other’s arms, delighted at the realization that they had come to. It was the innocence and naivety that made that moment so much more beautiful.

After nearly a minute, B and Luca let go and looked back at the two women that they had come with. Emily and JJ noticed their stance, for example, how the woman in the sundress so slightly leaned into the other’s hold. They watched the way that “Mama” looked at her, noticing the softness that couldn’t be categorized as anything but love in her eyes. They caught on to the way that the couple’s hands linked, their fingers entwined behind their backs, almost as if to hide it.

During those moments, JJ and Emily didn’t notice the two children walking up to them. The couple only broke their gaze when Emily felt a light tug on her flannel. Looking down, she saw B and Luca standing with their hands joined together. Wondering what else the children had to say, she playfully raised her eyebrows to nonverbally ask them to talk.

“My name is Luca, and this is B, my princess. They’re really pretty and I love them a lot. I think you’re really cool and that you should hang out with us sometime. Bring her too.” Luca spoke and pointed at JJ as they finished their sentence.

The two adults joined the children, smiling.

“I guess since Luca and B have already made their introductions, we should as well. I’m Lauren and this is my friend Hannah. Luca is my kid and B is theirs.” The woman in the leather jacket looked down at Luca and B, and then over to Hannah.

“I’m Emily and this is my girlfriend, JJ. It was nice to meet you. You as well, B and Luca. Maybe, we can hang out the next time we meet. Enjoy your trip princesses.”

With that the 6 people parted, leaving Belle and Cinderella back at their post. Emily and JJ made their way to get Dole Whip. They made a few pit stops along the way, picking up souvenirs that were just tacky enough. It started when Emily caught JJ trying on a pair of rainbow Mickey Mouse Ears. She admired her girlfriend from afar, watching her admire the way the headband sat on top of her blonde hair. Emily walked up behind JJ and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“I am so buying you that. You look so cute.”

“Only if you get one too. We have to be matching or Pen won’t let you hear the end of it.”

“I guess you’re right. I would look good in that. You think she’d let it slide if we got her something too?”

“She might, but I wouldn’t,” JJ smirked at their reflections.

“Okay, okay. How about I get us some shot glasses and these and we call it even”

“Deal.” Emily picked up the shot glasses, with decorations and prices that reminded them that they were having the time of their life in Disney World.

Now, with their Stitch plushie, shot glasses, and rainbow headbands, JJ and Emily looked like proper tourists. Emily usually preferred to blend in with the locals and stay low. The more untraceable, the better for her. But somehow, standing JJ in their themed gear and countless souvenirs, the memories seemed worth it. She had her arm pulled tightly around JJ’s waist, feeling the blonde’s body heat against her own.

The sun had begun to set. It left the sky painted with several different shades and tints of pink and orange; the blue having faded away in the last hour. Each color created a mosaic-like glow down on the people as they prepared for the fireworks. JJ had raved about the fireworks show since that first night that Emily had confessed of her inexperience. The brunette was still slightly hesitant but decided that if JJ loved it, then it was good for her too. She pressed a soft kiss into JJ’s hairline as they weaved through the crowds of people to find a good spot for the show.

The last of the sunset passed rather quickly, leaving the crowds under the luminescence of the park’s decor. The rides that they had wanted to go on were already over, so this was the last thing on the first day’s itinerary. Emily was just about to ask JJ when they should expect the show to start when an employee in a decorated, Disney jacket approached the crowd with a megaphone. They spoke loudly and clearly, reciting memorized instructions on the show that was to begin in 2 minutes and the manners that the crowd had to use for it.

Promptly as announced, the fireworks began in 2 minutes. The display was gorgeous. Each little buildup created a unique pattern of firework in the sky. Emily found her attention captured, the magnificence making her heart glow. Everything around her was too much. She felt overwhelmed with love and remembered the secret that she had told Luca. It was now or never.

“Hey, Jen?” She felt the blonde’s weight shift from where she was, tightly tucked into Emily’s body.

“Yeah?” Emily’s neck tickled with the puff of air from JJ’s words.

“Today was perfect. Every day, actually, is perfect with you. I don’t know how you do it, but you make the world seem magical. Everywhere I look, I see something beautiful, and with our jobs, I didn’t even think that was possible. Being with you, made me realize that the world is good and can be good. It made me want to be good, better actually, just for you. So I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I love you and everything about you. You opened my eyes, Jen. I don’t think I’ll ever have the words to thank you enough for it.”

JJ held back tears at Emily’s words. The pure emotion that she heard in the woman’s voice was enough alone to make her sob. Her heart felt like it was glowing. Emily had that effect on her since they had met. Being here, standing by her side felt surreal. They were at Disney World, arguably the “most magical place on Earth”, but JJ thought differently. To her, anywhere by Emily instantly became enchanting. She didn’t waste a second in replying.

“I love you too, Emily. You were one of the best things that ever happened to me. I could shout it from the rooftops, but fireworks at Disney World work too.” JJ smirked and hugged Emily tighter. “I had dinner reservations at a restaurant that I came to as a kid for after this. Are you up for it? I just think that it would be a nice way to end today.”

“Of course. I was going to suggest take out for dinner, but that sounds so much better. We can head out as soon as the show is over.” Emily answered her and then turned her head to look up at the illustrious show once more.

They stayed for the show, even clapping when the fireworks subsided and denoted the end of the program. JJ and Emily sauntered through the flow of people, looking for an exit. On the way there, Emily stopped them in front of the magnanimous tree. Its decorations shined strongly against the dark, night sky, twinkling almost as brightly as the stars. Placing JJ strategically against the fence, she snapped a few photos. Jumping when she felt a light tap against her shoulder, Emily turned to see Hannah’s wide smile. They gestured for her phone, asking if Emily wanted a picture of the couple.

“Why don’t you hop in there next to her? I can take the picture of the two of you.” Emily obliged them, taking quick strides to join her girlfriend’s side. Their smiles were radiant.

Only two pictures had been taken before purple and yellow things ran out from behind Hannah. The couple didn’t realize what was happening until JJ nearly doubled over with the force that collided into her side. She looked down to see B, and the kid was clinging to her shirt. JJ didn’t have time to respond before the same thing happened to Emily. Luca had made their way to surround the brunette. Both kids had a mischievous smile on their faces, adoration in their eyes.

“Oh, I am so sorry. Kids, come back here. Let these two lovely ladies have their pictures.” Lauren’s voice rang out from behind her friend.

“No, it’s okay, let them stay. After all, we have to take pictures with the princesses in Disney World. Come in close for the picture guys!” JJ laughed and responded, earning delighted agreement from B, Luca, and Emily.

“You two are too kind.” Hannah shook their head and readjusted the phone’s camera angle.

The family took their leave of JJ and Emily, leaving the happy couple smiling as they made their way out of the theme park. The journey to their car was long, but it felt like two minutes to the women as they talked about their adventures of the day. It was a sweet resolution to a long day of fun. Arriving at Rigatello’s right on time, JJ and Emily were seated with haste.

JJ was buzzing with the high of their confession, grasping Emily’s hand tightly. Her mind was zipping with memories that they had made today. She had come to this theme park as a kid, and Emily had rejuvenated that childhood passion that she had for places like it. It reminded her of the fun that she used to have with Roslyn. All that confirmed was that Emily was perfect for her, through and through. Emily couldn’t keep her eyes off of JJ. The baby blues were reminders of how JJ was changing her view on the world, one step at a time. The blonde was the key to her future, and maybe one day they could have kids just like B and Luca. The thought of their own children was exhilarating to Emily, knowing that she had almost given up the hope of motherhood before JJ. Those kids were goofs, but so cute. We are definitely making yearly trips to Disney with our own, and maybe I’ll be able to convince JJ to dress up with them.

The couple was making light conversation when a short, stockier waiter approached their table. Their face was lit up and animated, the enthusiasm apparent in the waiter’s words. Taking a good look at JJ and Emily, Pablo, as the waiter had introduced herself, immediately began listing off items that they believed the pair would like. The interaction was short and lively, Pablo off soon to get their waters. Not a few minutes had passed before they returned once more, however they had some extra beyond what JJ had ordered.

“Don’t worry, it’s on the house. You two deserve it. Y’all are a beautiful couple. Thank you for coming to Rigatello’s. Now, do you know what you want to order?”

“I’ll have the beef cannelloni and she’ll have the chicken scampi? Yeah, one chicken scampi for her.” Emily gave out their orders and soon they were left alone again.

The food was decadent and the wine, which they learned was a house specialty later, was rich and smooth. JJ and Emily talked about kids, what Emily loved about the day, and the future. That day had been their first day of seven, and Emily had already fallen in love with Disney World. They left great compliments with the waiter and went on to their hotel. The women dragged themselves into bed after changing into their pajamas. Both were asleep within seconds of their heads hitting the pillow, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

[consumedkings-archive]

v. equitable exchange ✤ pre-cult au

john/elliot + “ew, that is so sappy i might vomit” taken from this prompt list!

word count: 2k

warnings: john being himself. elliot’s mother is terror. otherwise, they’re just being cute and enjoying each other. also naughty language, of course!

“It’s incredible how relaxed you get,” John remarked, sitting across from her, “as soon as you get out of Hope County.”

Elliot blinked at him. They’d only been dating for six months, but in that short time, John had proven he was more perceptive than she might have given him credit for. Sure, he was a little dense (read: selfish), but he was exceptionally good at reading her, which was rapidly becoming a problem.

That was to say—Elliot did not like being so easily read. Especially not at a dinner table in a fancy restaurant, after not having seen John for two weeks because work had gotten so busy she’d thought about pretending to be dead to get a few days of rest, and then resurrect herself Christ-like to get back on payroll.

“It’s not Hope County,” she explained after a moment. She opened her mouth to say, it’s my mom, she’s fucking bananas and will not stop harassing me about dating some nice boy that one of her ex-debutante frenemies mentions on the phone every day, but that felt like a lot to say all in one go, and a lot to say to John Seed, so she didn’t. “It’s just—stuff.”

“Ah, the ever-enigmatic and elusive stuff,” John reiterated, snagging her hand and bringing her fingers up to his mouth to kiss. “Turn that brain of yours off for a few minutes, won’t you? If you’re not going to elaborate on what it is that’s bothering you.”

“Sure,” Elliot replied dryly, “let me just find the switch here and…”

As she was busying herself mock-searching for the non-existent flip that would shut her brain down—and wouldn’t that be nice, to be fucking brain dead for a moment?—her eyes traveled the length of the room and stopped short on a tall, lean blonde laughing with a few other women as they walked into the restaurant.

Their eyes locked. The woman said, “Elli?” and in an act of self-preservation, Elliot scooted her chair out from the table abruptly and came to a stand, as though to sprint away.

“Ell?” John asked as she ripped her hand away from him.

“Uh,” she said. She then failed to elaborate.

“Elli, is that you?” her mother called, more fervently now, that sugar-sweet Southern drawl ringing around in her head as the alarm systems went off. Oh no, she thought frantically, trying to think of quick ways out—bust a glass open and just end it, maybe, pretend like she had amnesia, or literally anything—oh no, oh fuck no, oh God, fuck, I can’t do this, not right now, I’m not prepared.

“We have to go,” she blurted out. “John? Earth to John? Code red, we’re leaving.”

“But I just opened the wine—”

“Elli, that is you!”

Bless his heart, John continued curiously, “Who is that?” when he noticed the woman, and Elliot stifled a moan of agony.

“That’s stuff,” she hissed, grabbing his hand, “please, can we go—”

All of her fight-or-flight had kicked in, which was ridiculous if someone were to look at the situation objectively—that she was having this kind of a reaction, but if anyone knew anything about Scarlet Honeysett it was that—

“Go where?” her mother asked, now standing directly in the nearly-perfect geographical center between Elliot and John, on the other side, and it was painful to experience. Scarlet looked, per usual, absolutely polished; meticulously-maintained golden hair perfectly curled, her blouse and skirt pressed and prim.

“Nowhere,” Elliot managed out. “I’m—nowhere, mama. Just—” She scrambled. “Just thought I saw a… Spider on the table.”

“Ah,” Scarlet replied, and she didn’t sound convinced. A long moment stretched where she was aware of her mother waiting for her to introduce John and John waiting for her to introduce him, when finally her mother said, “Well, who’s your little friend, honey?”

Little friend. Like they hadn’t been dating for six months (not that she knew), like she didn’t let John fuck her filthy every time they visited each other. Elliot felt a dizzying surge of anxiety shoot through her body and tried to push it down.

“He’s m-my—John,” she said, and immediately kicked herself. Dropping his hand unceremoniously, she added, “My… boyf-uuh… boyf-f-”

“… boyfriend,” John finished for her, like she hadn’t just gone fucking stupid in the last five minutes for some reason. He gave her a funny, questioning look before he turned his full charm on and reached his hand out to Scarlet. “John Seed. It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Honeysett, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you.”

Scarlet shook his hand. Her gaze flickered down, and before John could retreat, she turned their gripped hands so that the top of his was facing up, inspecting it critically. Her eyes turned back to Elliot.

“He has tattoos,” she said and did not ask, in the kind of forced friendliness she used when she was talking to one of the aforementioned ex-debutante frenemies that liked to gossip about her.

“Yes,” said John, which was really all he could say.

“It wasn’t a question, darlin’,” Scarlet murmured idly.

“Mama,” Elliot began, “we should—um, can we—it’s just—”

“Elliot Savannah!” came an additional voice, and oh, she just wanted to shrink up and disappear when the flowery rose-perfume scent washed over her. The shock of bright auburn hair immediately came into her vision and warm arms were thrown around her neck. “I was wonderin’ if we were ever gonna see you again. Aw, honey, look at your red little cheeks.”

“Delia,” Elliot greeted, feeling faint. She returned the hug but could not ignore the way that John stood to the side. She was sure that he wasn’t accustomed to not immediately charming the pants off of anyone, and certainly, it was partially her fault they were now in this situation—after all, she hadn’t prepared him at all for what her mother was like. “It’s—so nice to see you again.”

“So nice to see you, my sweet girl,” Delia replied warmly. It was not lost on her that her mother’s one true friend was the first to reach and hug her, not her own mother. “And your very handsome man-friend, too.”

Delia swept away from Elliot to rescue John, who looked almost relieved to be admired and chatted to rather than glanced over with the sort of critical eye that Scarlet afforded to just about everything and everyone that came across her path. Delia’s apparent rescue of John left Elliot to shift under her mother’s gaze.

“Bunny,” Scarlet said, keeping her voice very mild, “have you been cutting your hair short?”

“Mama,” she sighed.

“I just think you look so pretty when it’s long. You know, your daddy never knew what to do with all that hair, but he learned to braid it just for—”

“We’re in the middle of dinner,” Elliot interrupted before her mother could wax poetic about the things that her father did well prior to his clinical and methodical abandonment of them. “And I haven’t seen John for a few weeks, so.”

So. The word hung between them, the sound of Delia fawning over John and feeding him all of the admiration and older-woman-flirtation he could probably want, and Scarlet waited. She didn’t speak; she was exceptionally good at this kind of little game, which they had always played, where Elliot would say something like so with the implication that Scarlet should be able to infer what she meant and her mother would refuse to.

“… just love our Elliot,” Delia gushed warmly. “You’re taking good care of her, aren’t you?”

“Oh, the very best,” John assured her. “It’s been—”

“Six months,” Elliot supplied.

Scarlet arched a brow upward. “That’s a long time to be seeing someone.” She glanced at John. “And so alternative, too.”

“Mother.”

“I only mean,” Scarlet continued, “that I wish you would have said something. I’ve been chatting with Blaire and her son is very interested in meeting you. It just feels rude to take it back, is all, and if you answered my phone calls—”

“I’m busy with work,” Elliot protested.

“But not busy enough to date someone secretly for a few months,” her mother shot back with all of the practiced politeness of a woman who made a living out of it.

John cleared his throat. “Six months.”

Elliot passed a hand over her face, exhaling sharply through her nose as she muddled through the anxiety and fury that her mother tended to inspire in her. A moment of silence stretched, too long and far too uncomfortable, before Delia clapped her hands together and made a soft sound.

“Well, I am just starvin’!” she exclaimed. “Scarlet, honey, you ready to eat?”

“I haven’t any kind of appetite,” Scarlet responded spitefully, and Elliot groaned and said, “You are so petty,” just as her mother plunged on, “but I suppose I’m ready to go.”

“Great,” Delia said, feigning cheerfulness. “Elliot, you’ll come and find us before you leave, won’t you? We’ll let you get back to dinner with your honey, and we’ll be waitin’ for you.”

As Delia steered her mother away and back to where the gaggle of ladies were standing around and watching the interaction from a safe distance, John sat himself back down at the table and poured his glass full of wine—far beyond what was normally considered a regular pour—and then did the same for her glass.

Elliot sat too and brought the glass to her mouth. Even though her mother’s presence inspired in her the most homicidal tendencies, so much so that she tried to avoid drinking at all around her, it felt necessary at this moment.

“That can’t be your mom,” John said conversationally. “She’s so tall.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Bunny?”

Elliot moaned, burying her face into her hands. It was the worst possible series of events that could happen: there was nothing in her that had prepared in the least to have to explain herself to her mother, and so of course the thing that she had done was not explain anything, because Scarlet Honeysett could not resist taking a dig at her daughter at any point in time.

“Hey,” John said lowly, scooting his chair over so that they were no longer on opposite ends of the table but rather perpendicular from one another, “drink your wine, we’ll lock the door on their insanely pretentious bathroom-with-a-couch, I’ll get you nice and relaxed, and then you’ll be ready to deal with your mom again.”

“You don’t get it,” Elliot protested, even when John’s words made heat crawl up into her cheeks

“I don’t really need to,” John replied flippantly. “Who gives a fuck if your mom doesn’t like me?”

“I do!” she insisted, distressed. “I care, and I had a very specific way that I wanted you to meet her, and she’s—God, she’s so—she always ruins fucking everything, John, you don’t get it.”

John leaned in, tilting her chin up, and kissed her. When he did, he tasted like red wine; his fingers slid to the back of her neck and cradled her there so that he could say against her mouth, “I’m not worried about it, hellcat.”

“I am.”

“Well, stop,” he replied amusedly. “You’re my girl, and regardless of your—very tall and honestly, statuesque—mother’s opinion of me right now—”

She sighed. “John.”

“—I will make sure that she likes me,” he finished. “I will charm her so fucking hard she’ll be begging you to marry me.”

Elliot made a low, tired sound. After a second, she said, “You’ll have to go to galas. And gatherings. Weddings. There are always so many weddings. Not to mention the charity functions, and—”

John hummed. “I will. Every single event that she invites me to. Maybe even a few she doesn’t, you know, just for fun.” He paused, and kissed her again. “All for you, baby. Anything for you. Even suffering through debutante events.” And then, playfully: “Bunny.”

“Ew,” the blonde groaned, suffering through the saccharine. “That is so sappy, I might vomit.”

“Please don’t,” he said, “I’m really enjoying kissing you.”

Elliot smiled against his mouth. “Okay,” she murmured, “but only if you don’t ever fucking call me bunny again.”

“Fair trade.”

[sxnyarostova]

heehee modern hadesephone

dumb idiots who can’t communicate with each other, the fic. featuring persephone struggling with pavlova and hades being a big tough looking softie

When Persephone invites him over to her mama’s house, Hades doesn’t think much about it. Friends always hang out at their friend’s parents’ houses all the time; well, that was the case back in primary school, anyway. 

Persephone drops the bomb that Hades’ gut has been subtly expecting when they’re in the car. “Uh, I told my mom that we were dating,” she blurts. “And that you, bein’ the gentleman that you were, y’know, was going to bring dessert.” 

Hades, calm and collected as he is, doesn’t show much of how he’s feeling on his face. “What?” he asks. He suddenly looks a lot more nervous and starts fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt, smoothing out invisible wrinkles and dusting away non-existent speckles of dirt. “Persephone, I- I don’t quite understand.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I threw this onto you this late,” she says, awkwardly adjusting her tote bag, “but I didn’t know how I could say something like this at, I don’t know, a brunch meet-up. Hey, I’ve told my mom that we’re dating because she won’t stop breathing down my neck in regards to when I’m gonna go out with someone.”

He sighs, and Persephone sees something inside of him shift. “So where are we going to get the pavlova?” he says resignedly, rummaging through his suit jacket for his wallet. “I don’t know any good places for dessert, I’m afraid. Never had much of a sweet tooth myself.”

“Oh, that’s a lie,” Persephone huffs, half-trotting in double time to make up for the big steps that Hades takes. “I’ve seen you eat a stack of pancakes drowned in half a bottle of syrup, Hades.”

“My favorite place is an hour from here by freeway,” Hades says, stopping so suddenly that Persephone slams into his back. “Oof!” Persephone exclaims, stumbling backward a little. “Uh, maybe I could just call my kid to grab a cake from the grocery store?”

“Don’t trouble Eurydice,” Hades says. “The girl’s got enough on her plate already. How hard is it to get a pavlova, anyway?!”

(It is, in fact, very hard to find a pavlova.)

Eventually, the pair of them manage to locate one in the seventh dessert store they visit. Persephone triumphantly holds up the decorated meringue in its paper box, and Hades feels his mouth twitch at the corners.

“See?” Persephone says as the two of them slide into Hades’ car. “It wasn’t that hard.” 

(Hades doesn’t bother arguing with her as he turns the ignition.)

Demeter’s farmhouse is located in a quiet section of town. It’s a big place, with ornate glass windows and a bright red front door that screams ‘welcome.’ Persephone instructs Hades to park in the driveway, which Hades does so easily.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” Persephone says, looking at Hades. Oh no, Hades thinks. Persephone’s plans are never good. Even so, he nods and indicates to his friend to go on. 

“My ma usually doesn’t run background checks on the people that I take home, so don’t worry about that,” she starts. “So long as you can keep a conversation going, you’ll be fine. Oh, don’t bring up anything about the weather lately, either; climate change always gets her in a tizzy. And don’t get her started on Eurydice, because she’ll break out the photo albums and you’ll be stuck here all night.”

Hades makes a mental note of all the information that Persephone has just thrown at him and nods along. “Will we have to hold hands or exhibit any public signs of affection?” he asks, and Persephone bursts into a fit of laughter. “Why did you ask it like that?” she chuckles, running a hand through her scalp. “And no, we don’t. Ma not big on PDA, anyway.”

“What’s PDA?” Hades asks again, and Persephone patiently explains to him what the acronym stands for. “I didn’t know what it meant until Eurydice told me, either, so don’t worry,” she says, jostling him in the side playfully. “We’re both old rocks.” 

Persephone gets out of the car with the meringue in her hands, smoothing out the folds of her chartreuse green dress as best as she can. She’s not nervous, but her armpits are sweating buckets.

Hades stoically walks towards the front door like a man to his death. Persephone would laugh, but she’s still got some sympathy left in her. She feels slightly guilty for thrusting Hades into this situation, but there’s nothing that can be done now, right? 

Awkwardly, Persephone slides her arm into Hades’. “Look the part, boyfriend,” she murmurs, as she knocks on the door. Hades blushes bright red but does as he’s told, putting on a smile that looks more forced than anything. 

“Hi, ma,” Persephone says, greeting the woman who opens the door with a cheek kiss. “Kore!” Demeter exclaims. Hades feels like he’s third-wheeling and interrupting a moment, but he doesn’t say anything, his ‘smile’ never leaving his face. 

“Ma, this is Hades. Hades, this is my mother, Demeter,” Persephone introduces, when she pulls away from her mother’s embrace. 

Demeter turns to Hades and looks the man up and down. Hades stays mostly still as he’s scrutinised, not even daring to breathe. God, what happens when the plan is exposed? Does Demeter know that this is just a ruse that Persephone’s caused? 

Hades’ inner monologue is interrupted by Demeter extending her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Hades,” Demeter says, a warm smile on her face as Hades shakes her calloused hand. “I’ve heard so much about you from Persephone.”

“All good things, I hope,” Hades jokes, and Demeter laughs out loud. Persephone does a silent victory dance with her fingers, for this is going so, so well. Screw everyone who doubted them; they’ve got this.

“Oh, they’ve all been wonderful things,” Demeter says warmly, opening the door wide. “Come on in, both of you.” 

The house carries the aroma of cooking food and the faint scent of burning incense. It’s all extremely homely and comfortable; the environment of Demeter’s farmhouse does wonders for Hades’ anxiety. “Persephone, put the pavlova in the fridge,” Demeter calls, just as her daughter’s about to close the refrigerator door. 

“I’m one step ahead of you,” Persephone says with a bright smile. “Food smells amazing, ma.” 

Dinner is amazing. Demeter’s ability to cook up a storm is otherworldly, Hades learns. He’s on his third plate of casserole now and he’s relatively sure he’s still got room for another. “So,” Demeter asks, mouth full of carrot and potato, “how did you and Persephone meet?”

Hades blanches; the two of them hadn’t gone over a cover story before. “Uh,” he says, stuttering. “We met when I went to her diner for pancakes. I was drawn in by her eyes… they’re beautiful. I fell in love with her right there.” 

(Most of that sentence is true, save the last part. Persephone’s warm, inviting, and brown eyes are beautiful. They’d hooked him in so much that Hades had frozen on the spot when Persephone came to take his order.)

Persephone feels her breath catch in her throat. “Oh, yeah,” she continues. “I heard that deep voice of his laugh, and that was it for me.”

Demeter beams. 

Hades finds that it’s not hard at all to pretend to be Persephone’s significant other. It feels natural to compliment the woman, to exchange loving glances with her. By the time they leave Demeter’s place that night, Hades realises that he’s been infatuated with Persephone for quite some time now; it’s just taken the evening to unearth those feelings of his. 

The drive back to Persephone’s house is quiet. Sometime in the middle of the ride, Persephone turns on the radio. Soft country music fills the air between them, slowly easing the tension between them. “I like this song,” Persephone says quietly. “It’s music to my ears.”

“It is music,” Hades deadpans, prompting a giggle from Persephone. 

“Tonight was...fun,” Hades says, trying to break the silence. “I enjoyed it quite thoroughly.”

“Did you mean what you told my ma?” Persephone asks. “About my eyes?”

“Yes,” Hades says, swerving towards the highway. “I meant it. All of it, Persephone.”

“Do you want to do this again? Not hang out at my ma’s place, I mean, but somewhere else. Somewhere where we can be ourselves and get to learn to be infatuated with each other,” Persephone says, looking out the window. The stars are out, lighting their way home. It’s oddly poetic to be in this situation with Hades.

“That sounds good,” Hades says, stumbling over his words like he’s a pathetic teenager in love. “That- yeah. Let’s do this again. Next week? I can take you to that dessert place I was talking about earlier. Unless you don’t want to go that far? I’ve- I’ve, uh, got other places-”

“Stop spiraling,” Persephone cuts in. “For the love of God, please stop spiraling. I- yes. I’ll go with you next week.”

Hades beams. It’s one of the most genuine smiles Persephone’s ever seen in her thirty-eight years of living. 

(Maybe she’ll be inviting her ma to walk her down the aisle sooner than she thought.)

[sign-from-god-complex]

Self-Control

Summary: The sound of footsteps pad across the landing above and though Virgil has come all this way he’s suddenly struck with the feeling that he’s not ready. It’s been 15 years since they’ve seen each other—so much can change in 15 years; so much has changed in 15 years.

Though, maybe things haven’t changed quite as much as Virgil thinks.

(AKA, a past-punk moxiety AU)

Pairing: Moxiety!

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, smoking, homophobia and nondescript injury. Vague allusions to past abuse (or at least mentions of terrible parental figures). Brief discussion of a parental figure having died.

AO3 Link

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It isn’t at all the place Virgil imagined for him. The flower pots all sit in a row on the steps, red ivy climbing up the fence like spider webs and a garden hose curled up on a perfectly manicured front lawn. Everything about it is picturesque—almost to the point of insanity—and as a butterfly floats by and lands delicately on a ladder leaning onto the fence from the backyard, Virgil wonders what in the world could have changed Patton so drastically to have led to this.

There’s an image, in his head, of teenage rebellion—of 2 am milkshakes and stolen bicycles, of broken glass and laughter, so much laughter, as they took advantage of what time they had left to live. It doesn’t fit in with this pastel blue sky in this pastel blue neighbourhood full of pastel blue people but he knew that it wouldn’t. He knew things would be different.

Though, that doesn’t make it all that much easier to comprehend.

Vaguely, Virgil hears the sound of excited squeals coming from the yard and he ducks his head over the fence just a bit, catching sight of a young girl flying off of a trampoline at a hundred miles an hour—hair a mess and grin bright.

The kid must be Patton’s—it’s unmistakable, that dark skin and reckless look, like she’s ready to take the world on at any moment—and Virgil can’t help but remember the nights the two of them spent drinking and talking and vowing to never tie themselves down to anyone or anything. 

He supposes no one really does know what they want when they’re young.

It takes Virgil a while to gather up the courage to knock—he’s all too aware of his leather jacket and patches, his dyed hair and piercings. He couldn’t feel more out of place in this suburban neighbourhood and he hadn’t thought that around Patton he could ever feel out of place.

In the end, though, the choice is taken out of his hands. The young girl throws open the door, clearly looking to haul ass across the street to the park—the kind of place he and Pat would have smoked, once upon a time—but is stopped short as she notices Virgil standing in her way. There’s a moment where he’s afraid she’s going to scream or cry or something else he would have no clue how to deal with but instead, she just grins cheekily.

“Dad!” she yells, barely turning her head to face the soft white interior of the house, “There’s a man here for you!”

The sound of footsteps pad across the landing above and for a moment Virgil is so afraid that he’s gotten the wrong house or that Patton won’t want to see him and though he’s come all this way he’s struck with the feeling that he’s not ready. It’s been 15 years since they’ve seen each other; so much can change in 15 years.

“Riley, what do you mean? What ma-”

And then, there he is.

His face is void of any of the makeup he used to wear, his hair faded from turquoise to its natural black and left curly in a way he wouldn’t have been caught dead with once. And, over the top of a graphic t-shirt displaying some characters Virgil doesn’t recognise and unripped light-wash jeans, Patton had thrown a familiar blue flannel.

Virgil remembers that flannel, worn under heavy coats to help fight the evening windchill, tied around Patton’s waist as they scaled fences just to see if they could and left in a pile on the floor in his room as they finally escaped back to comfort and warmth. Honestly, he’s just surprised it still fits.

Patton does nothing but stare at him for a moment, his lips parted in shock and his eyes big and wide and god, looking at him now is like falling in love all over again.

“Virge?” he breathes, a melody of disbelief in his voice. Virgil can’t exactly blame him—it isn’t as if he’s someone Patton was expecting to see.

Virgil rubs over the fabric of his jacket, a nervous tick he’d had even back then. “Hey, uh… surprise?”

And in an instant, has Patton pitched forward right into his arms. Virgil catches him—of course, he catches him, he’ll always catch him—and Patton laughs, displaying some level of joy Virgil hadn’t known he’d needed to hear until now. He can feel Patton breathing against his neck as they hold each other and, distantly, the sound of light footsteps echoes away and up the stairs.

They pull apart, eventually, the separation like trying to peel a sticker off of a concrete wall—the easiest kind of graffiti to enact while still being tricky to remove. The distance Patton puts between them seems almost reluctant and Virgil wishes he had the courage to tell him to stay.

“What are you doing here?” Patton asks. It’s soft, like the white fuzzy carpet of his new home and Virgil realises suddenly he’d been so caught up in him that he’d forgotten that this him wasn’t the same.

Patton had always been soft but not soft like this. He’d been soft in redirected conversation and distractions, in Virgil’s favourite TV show on in the background and stolen chocolate bars in his pocket, guiding hands mimicking steady breathing. This Patton seems soft around the edges—worn down, almost—and Virgil feels those 15 years as more of a lifetime.

He doesn’t answer the question—truthfully because he’s not sure how, not sure where to start with the mess of events and near-misses and regrets that finally brought him here to Patton’s doorstep—and instead replies with one of his own. 

“My mom died. Did you know that?” It’s a stupid thing to ask, they hadn’t spoken to each other in 15 years, there was no way he could have known. Virgil asks it all the same though. “I have her money now. Didn’t write me out of the will even after everything we went through. Guess she didn’t want how much she hated me and my “lifestyle” to come out even after she’d kicked it.”

Patton just looks at him. There’s something sad in his eyes, maybe, something regretful or sympathetic, something holding years worth of apologies and love confessions in not so many words that every night they'd pretended they hadn’t said.

Maybe not, he isn’t sure. He’s never been very good with stuff like that. 

“You owe me a party,” Virgil continues impulsively. Patton grins and shakes his head and the urge to kiss him is so strong for a moment Virgil can’t breathe. “You promised me when she was dead and I didn’t have to worry about her anymore we’d have a party. With cheerio sausages and expensive liquor and-”

“Sparkling juice and bad karaoke,” Patton interrupts, “I remember.”

Nobody speaks. Patton doesn’t invite him in and Virgil doesn’t ask for fear of being turned away. 

He knows there’s an element of worship in the way he looks at Patton. It’s worship like the way farmers pray for rain in a drought, worship like how sailors are drawn to the rough turn of the sea and worship like teens relishing in the night when they’re bored and alone and angry, yearning for freedom that only comes in years they feel they don’t have left.

But now, dark eyes gazing at him and breath catching in his throat, Virgil thinks maybe he isn’t the only one who feels it.

“I have a kid now, you know?” Patton asks and Virgil knows instantly that question isn’t about the party but everything that comes after it—all of the hundreds of possibilities that stem from this decision that neither of them can quite voice out loud, “Single parent. I made a lot of bad choices in those 15 years—gave myself away to a few people who didn’t deserve it, maybe—but she’s… helped. I want to be better for her.”

Virgil nods. It’s a little hard to reconcile teenage Patton with this one but he tries anyway. He has to; he owes him that much.

(In truth, he owes him so, so much more than that but right now this is all he feels he can give.)

“Yeah, uh, Riley, right? Seems like a sweet kid, if not a bit mischievous.” Virgil smirks slightly, somewhere between teasing and nostalgic. “Kind of like you were.” 

At that, Patton grins and he laughs and it feels right—feels like early morning rainfall and crackling log fires, like the burning in your lungs as you run and the way your eyes slowly drift shut against your will when you’re up too late, like every ending and beginning in just a moment. 

He shakes his head again, almost affectionately chastising and there’s a stuttering of Virgil’s hand as he goes to reach out, to brush a strand of hair away from Patton’s face but stops himself halfway through.

Patton doesn’t seem to notice. Virgil once thought Patton never noticed—never saw the longing in his eyes and the flushed red of his cheeks as they sat side-by-side on a park bench in the middle of winter, running from the heat of harsh words and high expectations.

He wonders if maybe that was naive. 

“Well, I’ve gotta make sure to raise her right,” Patton jokes and his smile is amused—fond and familiar like the worn leather of Virgil’s jacket between his fingers, “If she’s not questioning authority and getting me called down to the office at least once a term then I’m doing something wrong.”

With that, there’s a flash—just a moment—of principal visits and angry rants, of cutting class to sit with the other in the silence of the school office and knowing, that outside of the two of them, there was no one else to come. And he thinks of Patton—this Patton, not his Patton—taking up the empty space of that office with kind reassurances and defensive words, protecting and protecting and protecting, fighting for Riley the way he had Virgil.

Parenthood suits Patton more than he’d first thought, perhaps.

“Ah, office visits.” Virgil nods sagely and can’t resist the quirk of his lips as Patton giggles. “A hallmark of a punk child. Next thing you know she’ll be dyeing her hair, running off to the park in the middle of the night to meet up with boys.”

It’s obviously a joke but still, Patton quietens, taking on a more contemplative look. It seems as if he’s remembering something and Virgil needs, all at once, to make sure he’s more to Patton than simply that expression on his face in the midst of just another day.

“Yeah,” Patton finally says, “Yeah, she was thinking purple actually.”

Virgil doesn’t reach up and drag a hand through his own purple hair but it’s a near thing. He hums—soft and low. “Good taste.”

A heavy silence rings in his ears—an echo of all the memories they share and all the memories they don’t, a collision of black and pastel blue on a canvas already painted with teenage angst and first love—and Virgil can't stand the way it feels like it may be too much to overcome. It isn't; he won't let it be.

He takes a step closer and Patton doesn’t move away, just lets Virgil crowd him against the doorframe till their chests are pressed together and each shuddering breath is a joint effort.

“I’d like to get to know her. If you’ll let me,” he murmurs and he’s so close that he can hear Patton’s heartbeat pick up as he slides a hand up to brush at the strands of hair against Virgil’s neck.

The air between them is tense and pulled tight—gazes tracing over freckles and foundation, their skin warm with each point of contact and the rushing of blood in Virgil’s ears drowning out the pounding of his heart. Each second that goes by without comment feels to Virgil like sinking into quicksand, like fingers losing their grip on the edge of a building and threatening to let him fall.

But, before he can draw away, throw up his walls and stumble his way through apologies like they’re nothing more than kids again, Patton tugs him forward and, softly, he brings their lips together.

The kiss is a teenage fantasy come true, the culmination of every moment—under streetlights or under blankets or under nothing more than the cover of night itself—where Virgil longed to reach out and tell Patton that he wanted to kiss him until the world faded away and all that he could focus on was the taste of cherry red lipstick and the joy and love pounding in his chest like a second heartbeat.

It's the comfort in late-night knocking, Patton taking Virgil in and patching him up and holding him as he cries because he has a mother that doesn’t love him and a father that’s always absent and a world that doesn’t care, muttered reassurances a quiet backdrop to his sobs.

It's the warmth in drinking their way through meagre retail paychecks, Patton’s soft touches like fire against his skin and the thread of restraint holding Virgil back from blurting out a love confession worn down to something as thin as a spiderweb and just as delicate.

It's the exhilaration in grocery store runs with no money and bags filled with spray paint cans, their gloved hands clasped tight as they race against the biting evening wind, giving in to the urge to let out a cry of victory that bounces off the empty alley walls.

So, yes, it’s the culmination of years of pining but it’s more than that too. It’s an apology, it’s acceptance and it’s an offer of a future, to stay here with them. 

“I think I’d like that,” Patton gasps as he pulls away and Virgil’s so enamoured even after all these years that he barely knows what to say, “For you to know her, I mean. She’d like you. She’s like you, or at least the way you used to be—always a bit loose with self-control.”

Virgil doesn’t tell Patton that all his self-control had been going towards keeping himself from telling him he loved him. He doesn’t think he’d know how.

Slowly, Virgil blinks and he nods and it’s all he can do to keep himself standing as Patton beams up at him with a smile reminiscent of stars colliding—bright and beautiful enough to take his breath away. And suddenly Virgil feels like maybe he can fit in here, that maybe he can fit in anywhere he needs to if Patton keeps looking at him like that.

He smiles back, smaller than the one he’d received but the way Patton’s eyes light up makes Virgil feel like maybe that doesn’t really matter. “Okay, yeah. I want that; I want to stay.”

“Okay,” Patton parrots and he’s barely holding back giggles, Virgil can tell. It’s okay though because he feels it too—that sense of happiness and disbelief that has almost no other way to present itself—and giving in feels more like an inevitability.

So, laughing and hands joined together, Patton pulls Virgil inside to the soft white of his suburban home. And he closes the door.

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Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @camcam774 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @welpweregonnadie @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hold-my-hat @goodandbadisallmadeupnonsense @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @harleyquinnamiright @localtransgrape @fandomsofrandom @gattonero17 @airiervessel @ollyollyoxinfree @tired-and-probably-crying .

[bellatrixobsessed1]

From Chin To Yon Rah (Part 30)

She knows that there is not a soul left in the world that cares for her. She knows it because if there was, someone would have reached out and taken her hand. Someone would have realized that she was slowly dying and they would have given her at least a little sip of water and a small morsel to eat. 

Nobody does. 

Because nobody cares. 

For all of its heat, she is certain that the Fire Nation is colder than the poles. 

No wonder she herself is so cold.

Her body aches and pains in ways she hadn’t thought possible. Dehydration leaves her muscles cramped without mercy. She puts one foot in front of the other, over and over. Her mind has grown numb to all else. Her head throbs and she has run out of sweat. She stumbles and pitches forward. She doesn’t have the energy to pick herself back up and so she drags herself on all fours. Crawling on her hands and knees. 

She doesn’t think of anything else, just of moving limb after limb until she finds herself at the base of a cliff. The Black Cliffs she realizes, faintly. She drags herself to the shoreline, tears welling in her eyes. 

She greedily laps at the water, feeling just as uncivilized as she has become. She thinks that there is nothing left of who she had been. Nothing good anyhow. She is certain that she has still retained and regained all of the most unsavory bits. 

After helping herself to copious amounts of water, she lets her body fall limp. Arm outstretched, her fingers dip into the water. Water that laps gently at the sand. The cliffs tower high above her, shadows washing over her. Atop them, short strands of grass sway and swish. A fuzzy green to adorn the otherwise craggy landscape.She bunches herself up; at the very least she will have a nice view to go with her death.

She doesn’t expect to wake up but she does. And she awakes to familiar pains. At least she is no longer thirsty, at least the water cools her body. At least she can refill the waterskin. But how terribly her stomach pangs. And the sun burns on her skin sear a bright red. Her skin is already peeling in places, she feels even less human.

She climbs to her feet anyhow, dizzy, swaying. 

She walks for miles, empty headed, reduced to nothing but the aches in her stomach and feet. The throbbing of her head. 

She isn’t going to make it, she isn’t sure why she is trying. 

She wonders if her corpse will be found and if she will be buried respectfully or unceremoniously. Perhaps her body will rot where it falls…

Approaching from the other direction, she sees the first people that she had encountered in days...weeks? 

She wonders if it would make a difference to tell them that she is their princess.

She recalls her haggard state and wonders if they’d believe her.

She approaches them.

She opens her mouth. She knows that she had.

But the blackness overtakes her--she isn’t sure if she had gotten any word out. Her body, spent and at its limit trembles all over even in sleep. She doesn’t wake up for some time. And when she does, she wakes alone. Alone and somewhere entirely new. 

Her heart thunders in her chest; where have they taken her? Is she dead? It’s dark. She chokes out a little sob. She doesn’t know where she is or how she got there. She shivers; what if she has gotten herself mixed up with the slave traders? Agni, can’t the universe at least let her die a free woman?

But her hands, her ankles...they aren’t bound.

Curiously, her middle doesn’t ache quite as terribly. They, whoever they are, must have fed her. 

Azula sits up and the tarp falls away. She looks around and her eyes fall upon a stocky man with a full beard and ample eyebrows. “What…?” She gestures to the tarp. The man catches it before it can blow away entirely.

“It was to keep the sun off of you.” The man says gruffly. He is a soldier. She thinks that she recognizes him. She can’t put a name to a face right now, neither can she put it to a memory.

Still shaking, she rakes her hands through her hair. 

Her hair!

Her dismay must have registered on her face because the man states plainly, “Matted. We wouldn’t have been able to comb it so we cut it.”

She falls back to the floor of the cart. It doesn’t matter. Long, lustrous hair is for the dignified anyways. She bunches herself back up. 

“We’ll take you as far as the outskirts of Caldera City, then you fend for yourself.” 

She manages a small nod but inquires, “why did you pick me up at all?”

“We’re not savages. We’re trying to show the world that the Fire Nation isn’t cruel.” The soldier shrugs.

But compared to everywhere else that she has been, it is. Very much so. 

“But we’re not about to give rewards to someone like you.”

“Like me?” It is an impulse to ask.

“Dirty. Dumb. Useless. You haven’t earned your keep.”

And now she recognizes him. He had been one of Admiral Zhao’s subordinates. Arrogant and dumber than he thinks she. She has earned her keep more than thrice over. It isn’t her fault that the universe keeps stealing it away from her. 

It isn’t her fault that the universe has a vendetta against her specifically. That it is trying to give her the fill of bad luck she had missed. Maybe in another fourteen years--maybe eleven to twelve if the years she has suffered already count--she will fall into another era of fortune. 

Maybe if she can last that long.

“You gonna get a job when you get to the outskirts or are you gonna…”

She doesn’t have the patience to listen to him anymore. Doesn’t have the patience for small minded assumptions and baseless judgements. She doesn’t have the emotional energy to deal with her own former ideals thrown back at her again. And again. And again…

She isn’t sure how many times she has to pay for them.

When it will end. 

When the world will finally acknowledge that she is doing her best. That she isn’t evil through and through; that she is just a woman who wants a home and peace of mind…

The rocking of the cart jars and unsettles her.

She thinks that she has learned it quite a while back but more subtly, kindly; that day she learns not to sneer at those who are down on their luck. She doesn’t know them. They don’t know her.

.oOo.

She is almost overwhelmed by how much attention she is getting. Mostly it is from Sokka who holds her as close as he physically can. But it is from Zuko too, who fixes her some tea (“just the way uncle always makes it!”) and from TyLee who gushes over what a caring mother she is until her cheeks grow red. It comes from Mai who brings her scrolls to read and occupy her mind with. From the servants and Lo and Li...

Caihong hasn’t spoken with her since she delivered the bad news nearly four days ago. 

“Trust me. Children are just like that.” Ursa insists. “She’ll come around.” 

But Azula hadn’t. 

She still hasn’t. 

She is still angry with the woman. 

The woman who had left her feeling neglected and hated for much of her life. The woman who, with uncle in tow, finally made her appearance--and at the worst possible time--two days prior. 

And yet the woman has her hand on the small of her back and rubs in small circles. At least Iroh knows to keep his distance. But really, aside from the lashing of her tongue, there isn’t a particular risk in pestering her. 

Ursa reaches out and grazes her fingers over the scar on Azula’s neck. The princess flinches back and her mother grimaces. 

“What happened, dear?”

“Ask Zuzu.” She is so tired and she doesn’t feel like explaining it again. She really doesn’t feel like dealing with more pity. 

“She’s been through a lot.” Sokka takes his seat at the edge of the bed. “And she can use some fresh air. Let's go for a walk, Azula.”

“I’d rather not.”

“You shouldn’t just sit in your room all day.”

“I’m not. I leave occasionally to get something to eat and have my bath…” 

“What about to socialize?”

Azula crinkles her nose and he laughs. She is in utter distress and he is laughing. “Talking to people isn’t that bad. Look how nice all of the Earth Kingdomers were to you.” He gestures to her journal. 

She takes it in her hands and stares at it for sometime before shoving it into Ursa’s arms. “Talk to me when you’re done reading it.” 

“Azula--!?”

“You haven’t even read the first page yet.” She scoffs. 

“You shouldn’t be so mean to your--”

Azula cuts him a glare.

“Strawberry garden, let’s check on that.” This time it is a nervous laugh. 

She grabs his hand and quite roughly. She doesn’t mean to be so rough, but he doesn’t even flinch. Caihong is already in the garden when they arrive, babbling away with TyLee. She holds Bao up with a delighted squeal. 

Azula sits down next to the child who turns around with a “hmph!” 

“Oh come on, Caihong,” TyLee tries, “Azula really wants to talk to you. She cares about you a lot.”

Caihong folds her arms, “nuh-uh, she makes me sad.” 

Azula’s stomach flutters. 

“Sometimes bad things happen, Cai.” Sokka tries. “She didn’t make this thing happen she was only telling you what happened.” He pauses. “Don’t you think you would have been sadder if that bad guy took you back to WuJing and no one was there?”

Caihong’s pout grows. 

“At least now you have me and TyLee and Zuko and…” He lifts her up and turns her around to face Azula, “you have a mom.”

“My mom died.” She says plainly, fidgeting with Bao’s claws. “‘S not fair.” 

“No kidding…” Sokka mutters. “My mom died too. Sometimes there are just bad people, Caihong. And they take really good people away. But there are lots of other good people and you have to talk to them.” He scoops her up and plops her into Azula’s lap. 

“But…”

“Is Azula a bad person?” TyLee asks.

Azula cringes at the question coming from her.

“Did she do something bad to you?”

Caihong looks up at her with those bright green eyes and shakes her head. 

“Did she do something good for you?”

Another glance is accompanied by an affirmative nod. “Lots of good things.” Caihong mumbles into Bao’s head. 

“So why are you mad at her?” Sokka asks. 

Caihong thinks for a moment, “she told me about the bad people.”

“And you didn’t want to hear it?”

Caihong shakes her head again. 

“Would you have rather heard it from someone else?”

Another head shake. This time her little fingers curl around Azula’s hand. 

“Do you still want Azula to be your mommy!?” TyLee clasps her hands together. 

Caihong pauses, squeezing and squeezing Azula’s hand before nodding once more.  Caihong nuzzles her cheek against Azula’s chest and Azula holds her close. She strokes at the child’s hair. “Bao and I were having a cave adventure.” 

“A cave adventure?”

“Mmhmm, see.” Caihong points at a small hole that she dug right in the middle of Azula’s strawberry garden. The princess sighs. 

“Did you find anything in the caves?”

“Rubies!” She declares, gesturing to the slain corpses of her strawberries. 

“Those rubies weren’t ready to be mined yet.” She mumbles. 

She isn’t sure why, but Caihong laughs. People, she decides, laugh at the strangest things. “You can plant more rubies, mom!” 

Mom…

Mother…

She could have had so much…

.oOo.

Even after tucking a newly happy and babbling Caihong in, Azula is very quiet. Sullen and withdrawn. Sokka sets a platter of roast duck on her nightstand, “you didn’t come to dinner?”

“I’m not hungry, Sokka.”  She doesn’t look away from the ceiling. She absently toys with the curtains draped over her bed. He doesn’t push her this time, though he decides that he will be delivering an extra nice breakfast to her in the morning. He lays himself down next to her. He very nearly springs back up, unsure if they have reached a point where she is comfortable with him laying on her bed. But she rolls over and reaches for his hand. 

“You haven’t even changed out of your day clothes.” He observes. 

She gives a slight shrug, “they’re comfortable enough. I’ve…”

“Slept in worse?” He rolls his eyes. 

She nods. 

“You’re going to be alright, Azula.” He promises. 

“Perhaps.” 

He sighs, they have been so focused on reassuring Caihong that he has forgotten to comfort Azula. He is certain that the princess has been neglecting herself too. “Ya know, everything we said about family applies to you too? Do you want Caihong to be your child?” 

“Of course, Sokka. I wouldn’t have gone through all of that trouble if I didn’t.” 

“Do you…” He swallows. “Do you want a new lover? A new husband?”

She is quiet for a very long time but she doesn’t withdraw her hand. “I don’t want to replace Hajime.” 

“I don’t want to replace him.” Sokka replies. “I want you to talk about him and tell me about him. But I want to be Sokka, I don’t want to take you on the kinds of dates Hajime took you on, I want to…”

She presses her fingers to his lips. “You talk too much. I got the point the first time.” She rolls back onto her back. “I know that you aren’t replacing anyone. You are Sokka. That’s good enough for me.” 

He takes his chances with moving closer to her. Having success, he slides his arm around her waist. She is quiet for another long span. It might have left him feeling anxious had she not let him trace his finger over the line of the scar on her belly. It is rougher in comparison to her otherwise delicate skin. 

“I don’t think that ‘good enough’, is exactly the right phrase.” She speaks again. “It’s…” she trails off. “It’s something new and it’s...it’s just as special.”  

[slowly-writing]

Normal’s Boring

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader

Word Count:  2561

Part 2: Life Saver

a/n: This got really long, my bad. I hope you all enjoy it

Being a teenager living in the Avengers compound was a little weird. You constantly had Shield agents running in and out and there was always the fear of an attack. Maybe that was just the collective PTSD of your family, but they made sure you were always prepared. You learned how to fight and protect yourself at a young age, your mom was the Black Widow after all. The fact that you could take care of yourself didn’t change the fact that you essentially had half a dozen overprotective parents. They would all jump to protect you at the first sign of trouble. Having that many people living in one place made sure your life was never boring, that’s for sure.

“Hey, Uncle Tony!” You call as you walk into the compound after school.

“Hey, kid. How was school today?” Tony asks with a smile.

“Fine,” you say with a shrug, “schools boring, I could learn way more here.”

“C’mon, y/n. You need a well rounded education. You have to know more than just how to fight,” Tony argues.

“You guys could teach me! You and Uncle Bruce know way more about math and science than any of my teachers could ever dream of. Uncle Steve lived through all the stuff I’m learning in history right now! Did you know I learned about you guys last week? Do you know how embarrassing it is to have your mom be the topic of class? Everyone made fun of me for days! I stick out like a sore thumb!”

“I’m sorry kid, but that’s part of the experience. You gotta be around people your age sometimes.”

“Wanda’s practically my age! She’s only a few years older than me! She’d go to school with me if you all made her go,” you try and Tony shakes his head.

“This is a conversation you need to have with your mom,” he says, “I’m not getting in the middle of that fight.”

“Where is Mom, anyway?” You ask and Tony avoids eye contact.

“Last second mission, she should be back in a few days,” he explains with a sigh. Everyone knows how upset you get everytime she leaves. Not only is it frustrating that she disappears, you’re worried. You’ve lost track of all the times various members of your family have come back with injuries, some worse than others.

“Any idea where?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“That’s classified, kid. But I’m sure it’s fine. If it was big they wouldn’t have sent her in alone,” he says trying to calm you down.

“She’s alone?!” you yell and he winces.

“Okay, obviously shouldn’t have told you that. She’ll be okay, y/n. She’s the best there is. She always comes back. I promise it’ll be okay,” he says and you nod before silently leaving to go to your room.

This was the worst part of being an Avenger’s kid. Your mom disappeared constantly. You would never blame her for it, of course, she was saving lives. If it wasn’t for her missions she never would’ve adopted you

You were three years old living in Budapest with your family at the time. Hydra had popped up again and your town was caught in the cross hairs. It was chaos, people were down everywhere and buildings were on fire. You don’t remember very much, just being really scared and then suddenly Natasha and Clint were there. Natasha had taken you in her arms and gotten you to safety. You immediately felt safer in her arms. She brought you home with her, and the rest was history.

While her missions were important you couldn’t help but wish you could spend more time together. Growing up you were constantly thrown from Avenger to Avenger. Whoever was available to take care of you became the stand in parent for that week.

You shake your head softly and sit down behind your desk to start on homework.

~~~~

The next morning you were in a bad mood. Everyone was trying to help you out, but nobody quite knew your routine as well as your mom, you just wanted her to come home. Steve woke you up at 4am and you were halfway through getting ready before you realized you were going to be two hours early. You switched gears and got to train with him for a few hours though, which was fun. After a few hours you shower and start getting your stuff ready to go.

Clint had been trying to clean up yesterday and apparently moved your backpack to some mysterious location. You spent the better part of an hour searching the entire compound for it before you find it in Wanda’s room.

“I thought it was hers! You’re both teenagers. It’s hard to tell what belongs to who!” Clint argues and you roll your eyes.

“She doesn’t even go to school, Uncle Clint! Which is completely unfair by the way,” you say pointing at Wanda.

“That’s what you earn when you’re an Avenger,” she smirks and you glare.

“I’ve been here longer, I should be an Avenger by now,” you grumble, jumping on one foot trying to find your shoe.

“Here, y/n. I made you lunch,” Bruce says with a smile, handing you a paper bag.

“Thanks Uncle Bruce!” You say, pausing when you look in the bag. “Hey what kind of sandwich is this?”

“Peanut butter and jelly, why?” He asks and you grimmance as the entire room seems to stop.

“I can’t eat this.”

“Why not?” Bruce furrows his brow as Tony walks over.

“Peanut allergy, man. Are you trying to kill the kid?” Tony yells handing you a few bucks to buy lunch at school.

“Here, Wanda,” you call tossing her the bag. “A genuine school lunch, welcome to the real world.”

“Nobody tell Nat about the peanuts, she’ll flip!” Clint cuts in and you nod.

“Come on, y/n, you’re gonna miss the bus!” Steve calls and you glance at the clock.

“Uh, yeah that ship has sailed.”

“What? How? I woke you up three hours ago!” He yells and you raise your hands in surrender.

“Yell at Uncle Clint! He’s the one who hid my backpack!” you argue.

“Well why’d you leave it in the living room?”

“I’m in high school! That’s what high schoolers do! I guess I’ll just stay home today,” you try and you’re met with four simultanious eye rolls.

“Yeah right, your mom will kill us if we don’t get you to school,” Bruce says and you frown.

“Okay enough. Here, take a car,” Tony says tossing you a set of keys.

“Am I missing the part where somebody taught me to drive?” you ask looking at the keys in your hands.

“You’re seventeen! You don’t know how to drive?” Tony asks and you look around the room.

“Do you see the chaos that sprung from you guys trying to get me ready for school? Do you really think mom would’ve trusted any of you to teach me how to operate heavy machinery?”

“Why didn’t she teach you?” Bruce asks and you smile sadly.

“Do you see her here right now? She’s too busy,” you shrug and Tony sighs.

“Okay, come on. I’ll drive you,” he says leading you to the garage.

xxxxx

You sigh as you pull up to school. The expensive sports car doesn’t really help you blend in.

“Have a good day, kiddo” Tony calls after you as you head inside and you force a smile.

“Thanks, Uncle Tony.”

You can hear the whispers as you walk through the halls.

“How does she know Tony Stark?” a Sophomore whispers.

“That’s Black Widow’s kid! She, like, lives with the Avengers or something,” some Junior girl responds and you shove your hands in your pockets and hurry to class.

“Before we start today, I thought it’d be fun to discuss some more recent history. We’ll be discussing the battle of New York ,” your history teacher states and you sigh, trying to sink deeper into your seat, “Miss Romanoff, why don’t you give us a rundown of what you know.”

“An Asgardian brought an alien army down on New York. The Avengers fought him off,” you stated plainly. The teachers always called you out when it came to anything Avengers related, you hated the attention it brought.

“You must know more than that,” your teacher encouraged.

“Well yeah, my Mom and my Uncles kicked ass, but isn’t telling the class that your job?” you ask and your teacher glares.

“That’s very disrespectful Miss Romanoff. Do I need to call your Mother?”

“Like you’d have the courage to talk to her” You say with a huff, “you’d neve have get ahold of her anyway,” you grumble under your breath.

“Miss Romanoff! This is your last chance, would you like detention?” you know you’re right but you sigh.

“No, sir. I apologize.”

“Okay then, anyone else?”

“Sure made a hell of a mess in the city. It took the city months to rebuild,” a kid named Chad says and you glare.

“Let’s see you fight off an alien army! See how well you do!” You yell, slamming your hand on your desk. You can feel your face getting red.

“I’d at least-”

“Enough!” your teacher cuts you both off. “Battles always cause a mess. Look at any war in American history. Moving on, back to our discussion of World War Two”

“Your family fought in that one too. Maybe you’re the common denominator, Roamanoff,” Chad whispers from behind you and you clench your jaw, your teacher not hearing Chad’s comments.

xxxxx

“You sure are quiet without the teacher here to protect you, huh?” Chad says pushing you into the lockers, “where are your precious Avengers now?”

He punches you and goes to push you again. Your mom made you promise not to start fights when she started training you, but since he threw the first punch you have him on his back before he realizes what’s happening. He looks shocked and you roll your eyes, “I was raised by superheroes dipshit. Now run along and I won’t tell anyone how fast I had you pinned.”

He gets up rubbing the back of his head, he must’ve hit it when he fell. Your not too worried, it’s not like he can get any dumber. He looks at you over his shoulder as he practically runs down the hall. You straighten out your jacket and walk towards your next class.

xxxxxx

“Hey Uncle Steve? Can you help me with this?” you ask, walking into the living room.

“Sure, y/n. What’s your question?”

“I need to know what year Captain America started fighting during World War Two,” you say rolling your eyes.

“I’m part of your history homework?” he asks with a smirk and you nod.

“It’s kind of weird having to answer questions about my uncle for my homework.”

“I know kid, but hey, you have all the answers right here,” he teases and you smile.

“Helping my kid cheat, Rogers?” you hear from behind you and you jump up.

“Mom! You’re home!” you yell crashing into her arms, “Are you okay? How was the mission?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. It was fine, I’m okay.” She says holding you tight, “now what’s this I hear about cheating?”

“It’s not cheating, Mom!” You argue, “the questions are about him! I’m just cutting out the middleman!”

“You’re learning about your Uncle Steve in school?” your mom asks, her brow furrowed, and you nod.

“I learn about all of you,” you tilt your head, “did you guys not realize that? We talked about the battle of New York today. Almost got me sent to the office,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

“What was that?” your Mom raises an eyebrow.

“My teacher wanted me to tell everyone about it! Just because you fought in it! I’m not the teacher! That’s not my job! It’s his! It’s not my fault my family got mixed up in every damn battle in the history of the world” you argue and your mom sighs.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“What, why?” you ask, confused at the change of tone.

“It can’t be easy, living the life you do. You should get to live a normal life. I should’ve thought of this before bringing you home,” she says, looking down and shaking her head.

“Are you… are you saying you wish you didn’t adopt me?” you asks softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “I know it’s hard having a kid, but you still get to do your job. You’re gone all the time anyway-”

“Hey y/n, no!” her head snaps up and she takes your hands, “adopting you was the best thing I’ve ever done. Don’t think for a second that I regret bringing you home. Honey, does it upset you that I’m gone so much?” she questions and you look at the ground.

“Kinda,” you shrug, “I miss you a lot and everything’s a mess without you. Uncle Steve woke me up too early because he didn’t know what time I got up and I missed the bus and I couldn’t drive myself because I never learned how and Uncle Bruce tried to give me peanuts and I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Please don’t be mad-” you start spiralling and your mom cuts you off.

“Y/n, look at me. I’m not mad,” she says softly, wiping the tears you didn’t even realize had begun falling from your eyes.

“I just get really scared everytime you leave. What if you don’t come back?” you whisper and she shakes her head.

“Love, I will always come back. I promise.”

“But you can’t promise that!” You yell, “people don’t always come back! My birth parents died on one of your missions. I can’t lose you too.”

“Okay, it’s okay,” she pulls you into her arms and you hold on tight. “How about this, I can cut back. I can’t promise I’ll never go on missions, but I can make sure I’m home more. I can teach you how to drive, and I can help you with your homework. I’ll make sure Bruce never touches your food again and I’ll make sure you can have a normal life.’

“Normal’s boring,” you cut in softly, “if I had a normal life I wouldn’t have been able to knock Chad on his ass when he punched me.”

“He what now?” Your mom pulls back with a glare and you’re suddenly very scared for Chad’s life. Your mom is an assassin after all.

“He was making fun of you guys and we got in a fight. But he only got one hit in! You told me not to start a fight and I didn’t! I waited until he did.”

Your mom shakes her head and pulls you into her arms again.

“I’m glad your home,” you bury your face in her shoulder, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, love. What about a movie night, just me and you?”

“Yeah!” you look up, seeing Steve has already disappeared and your mom leads you over to the couch.

You cuddle close to her as the movie starts, the safest place in the world to you is still in her arms. Sure, you may not have a normal life, but normal is overrated anyway.

[lightningbugqueensfics]

Real Family

Destiel

From the prompt “Cas beating the crap out of john winchester for causing dean so much trauma”(thanks @beautifulsaladkitten !)

*********

When John Winchester comes back from the dead, we get a better look into the harm he inflicted on Dean as a child. Castiel is a good boyfriend.

tw: Homophobic slurs and abuse

Ao3 Link

Dean woke to pounding on the front door. He had chosen this room specifically because it was so close to the entryway of the Bunker, but nights like this it bit him in the ass. Here he was, finally getting a good night's sleep, Cas wrapped around his back, and some idiot hunter just had to show up in the middle of the night. They could’ve at least had the decency to wait until morning.

Cas grumbled against his neck, obviously hearing the noise too. Despite still being an angel, ever since they had gotten together Cas had really taken a liking to sleep.

“Stay here, babe,” Dean murmured, “I got it.”

He rolled out of bed and trudged his way to the door. He yanked it open, still grumbling under his breath about “ stupid young hunter with no regard for their elders. ”

As he walked down the hall, Sam joined him.

“Hey man, I’ve got this, you can go back to Cas,” he offered.

“Nah, I’m up already. Who do you think it is?”

“Claire?” Sam asked.

“No, she’s on a Tulpa hunt in San Francisco with Kaia.”

“Ah, young love,”

“Haha, yeah. Charlie?” Dean asked.

“Remember, her and Stevie are on their honeymoon in Colorado.” The wedding had been beautiful. Both brides radiated joy, and nearly everyone (including Dean, though he would never admit it) cried. How Stevie managed to convince Charlie to go somewhere so far out of cell range still escaped Dean, but hey, it seemed like they were having fun.

“Still?”

“Yeah, they found a hunt up there the day they were gonna leave.”

“That’s rough.” Dean said.

“Actually, they seemed pretty excited. ‘First hunt as a married couple’ and all that.”

“Yeah, well, if that happened to Cas and I, you would be taking care of it.” Dean grunted as they reached the War Room.

“So, have you thought about it?” Sam asked carefully, “You know, asking him to marry you? Fully retiring?” The brothers and Cas were already partially retired, only taking hunts near the Bunker and mainly helping with the research. They were like the new Bobby’s. It was amazing how far they’d come.

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted, “I think I’d like that. I don’t think very soon, but eventually. We wasted so much time already, it’d be nice to make it official.”

Their conversation was cut off as they reached the big iron door. Sam stood in front of his brother to open it, and his back went ramrod straight the second he saw who was at the door. Dean peeked over his ginormous shoulder and felt the blood drain from his face.

“Dad?” 

Dean’s voice hurt him. It was like just the sight of their father turned him back into that obedient little kid, who always did what his father told him to. He was so much more than that now.

“Boys?” John asked, “Why do you look so… old?” Sam was still speechless, so Dean took charge. Fifteen years had passed and it was exactly the same.

“How are you alive?”

“I was with your mother, heaven, I think, there was this bright like, and then poof, here I am. Standing right outside this big ass metal door.”

“Um, Dad, what year do you think it is?”

“2006. Why? How long has it been, boys?”

“It’s uh, 2020 now. What was the last thing you remember?” he asked his dad, then said to Sammy: “Get the holy water, silver, and borax. We can do more tests later.”

“2020?” John asked, shocked, “What the hell?”

“Dad,” Dean said, trying to sound firmer, “What was the last thing you remember before being with mom?”

“The hospital. My deal with Yellow Eyes. I died, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. Then you came back as a ghost to kill the demon, then we went back in time and met you a couple of times, then you came back because of a wishing pearl that we had to destroy because it screwed with time. Things have gotten a lot more complicated since you left.”

Sam showed up with the borax and holy water, which he splashed on John’s face, then he handed him the silver knife, still silent. After a cut proving his humanity, John turned back into a commander.

“Tell me everything. Now, Dean.”

So Dean did. He told him about the end of the hunt for Azazel, about going to hell, about Angels, about the plan to free Lucifer, and about the first Apocalypse. He told him about the deal with Crowely, about the Leviathans, about Purgatory, about Abbadon, and Metatron. He told him about becoming a demon, killing Death and Hitler, and freeing the Darkness. He told him about Chuck, Rowena, and Jack. He told him about Mary coming back and the apocalypse world. He told him everything.

The only thing he left out was his relationship with Cas and that Cas was an angel, because John was sure to meet the man soon, and that would not be a fun conversation if he knew.  

Dean had no delusions that John would approve of his relationship with another man, let alone one that wasn’t human. Hell, his father was one of the main reasons Dean took so long to own up to his feelings.

“So you’re telling me,” John said slowly, “That you two started--and ended--the apocalypse… more than once? Once… because you,” he pointed at Sam, “got addicted to demon blood , and then again because you,” he pointed at Dean, “actually became a demon.” The brother nodded.

“You IDIOTS!” he roared, and Dean flashed back to his childhood. Drunken rages. Thrown beer bottles. Old bruises on his arm blamed on a werewolf, the only thought going through his head protect Sammy . “YOU FUCKING MORONS! Dean - A demon? You became the monster! God, I hope Sammy hunted you,” Sam started to rise to his feet, presumably to defend his brother, when John turned his gaze on the younger brother, “And you ! That demon was right! I told Dean to kill you, he should’ve! Drinking demon blood , Sam? You’ve got to know how broken you are! I was gone, what, two years? You even regret what you did? I bet you don’t you sick bas-”

“SHUT UP!” Dean yelled, shocking himself. John looked just as surprised.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said,” Dean replied, his voice somehow steady, despite the pounding in his chest, “Shut up. You can yell at me, you can tell me how broken I am--God knows that’s the truth--but you don’t do that to Sam. He tried, okay? He tried so hard but I abandoned him. You abandoned him. He’s a good man. All he ever wanted was a normal life, and he never got that. Because of you . So don’t you ever blame him for things that you caused. The pain you put us through. You did this, not us!”

“Get out of my sight,” John growled.

Dean stalked past him, catching sight of Cas in the doorway.

“Is everything alright, Dean?” he asked, “I heard yelling. Is that your father?”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean barked, without the same bite in his tone he had used on John. Cas, perfect as always, followed Dean down the hallway to their room. The tears stung his eyes before he even made it through the door.

Dean sank to the edge of their bed, tears flowing down his cheeks.

“Dean,” Cas was on his knees beside the hunter, a hand resting on his leg, “What happened?”

“He’s back” Dean choked out, “And it’s the same, Cas! I thought we… changed, you know? Got better, stronger. I thought I would be enough to s-stop him!”

“Stop him?”

“From hurting Sammy. Cas… he-he used to hit me. Not Sammy, that I know of, but, not all the bruises I got were from hunts. He would come home drunk and angry, and would always blame me if Sammy got hurt. Even if it was his fault!” Cas rose up and brought him into a hug, “I never stopped him. He did it till Sammy went to college. Then he just left me. I thought, maybe, if he ever came back…. I could finally do something,” he sniffled, “but I guess that’s proof that I’m still the same scared little boy.”

“No, no, no,” Cas whispered into his hair, “Dean, you are the bravest man I have ever met. I heard what you said to him. Dean, that was bravery! That was you standing up for your little brother. Could you have done that fifteen years ago?” Dean shook his head, still crying, “So you see, love? You grew. You are stronger. He hurt you, but you are still here. Still beautiful. Still Dean Winchester.”

“I love you, Cas,” Dean murmured as he shifted his head into the crook of the angel’s neck.

“Come on, Dean, let’s go to bed. We can talk about this more in the morning.”

Dean nodded his head, and Cas maneuvered him under the covers, still wrapped in his angels arms.

With that they settled in to sleep. Dean fell into a peaceful slumber, completely unaware of the fury coursing through Castiel’s veins.

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

Dean woke to pounding on the door. He grunted, knowing what was coming, and knowing that it was even worse to put it off. He forced himself out of bed and made his way to the door, still half asleep.

If he had been fully awake he might have realized the mistake he was making.

The door opened to reveal John Winchester’s still beet red face, this time the intoxicated kind. It seemed like the few hours since their fight had done nothing to calm him down.

“What do you want?” Dean asked, voice slurred with sleep.

“I want you to explain to me what that was last night!!”

“Can we do this in like, an hour?” he grunted, “I’m gonna need a shower and a cup of coffee to deal with…” he vaguely gestured at John.

“Do you think this is a laughing matter, boy? We need to-” he glanced behind Dean, “Who is that ?”

“That’s Cas.” Oh shit . Dean’s eyes widened with incredible speed and he reached the slam to door shut.

John’s hand shot open and caught it before it could close.

“The same Cas who’s a ‘hunter buddy’ of yours?” his face was now turning an alarming shade of purple as he strode into the room. Dean backed up, flinching away from his father. He heard rustling in the bed, Cas was sitting up.

“You mean to tell me that not only has your brother gotten addicted to demon blood, and you actually became a demon, some hunter turned you into a FUCKING QUEER?” John roared. Dean just kept inching backwards, that same fear from his childhood rearing its head inside of him.

“God, Dean, I knew you were fucked in the head, but this? Sleeping around with some fag, what did they do to you? I knew you were too much like your mom, always a little pansy,” his voice was slurring, just like it did before every beating when Dean was young, “Who knows, maybe I can beat it out of you?” Dean was on the floor beside the bed now, frozen, just like he was back then. Nothing had changed.

As John reared his arm back, ready to bring it down on Dean's face, a calm but lightning fast hand stopped it in its tracks.

Castiel stood beside Dean. His face was devoid of any emotion, but from the look on John’s face, his hand was squeezing enough to hurt. Still dressed in his bumblebee pajama pants and Dean’s AC/DC shirt, he didn’t look dangerous. Dean knew better. John did not.

“Get your hands off me you fucking faggot!” the man snarled.

“No. You will not hurt Dean.”

“Who are you to stop me?”

“I’m the person who saved him. I’m the one who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. I’m the one who picked up the pieces of that incredible man you broke and helped him fit them back together. I have loved him more than you are even capable of, so I’d say I have every right to stop you.” Castiel growled the words.

“Let me go, you son of a bitch!” John still wasn’t backing down. Castiel pushed him against a wall with one hand still holding John’s fist and the other arm pressed against his throat.

“I’m an angel you ass.” Castiel’s eyes glowed blue, like they did right before smiting someone. He was the most furious Dean had ever seen him.

“You’re a-” John cut off, “You mean to tell me that not only is Dean fucking a man, you’re not even human ? God, you really are fucked in the head, boy.” Castiel pressed harder on his trachea.

“Dean is not ‘fucked in the head’ as you say. He is a kind and loyal man, no thanks to you. He is no longer your son, John Winchester. You made sure to beat that out of him. Sam and I, and the people we have found and lost along the way, we are his family. We care about him. We love him. That’s more than you can ever say!”

“Dean,” he gasped out, “tell this monster to stop! I’m your father for christ’s sake!” Dean rose unsteadily to his feet. Heart beating faster than on most hunts, adrenaline coursing through him, Dean did the one thing he had always wanted to do but never had the courage for.

“No,” he said.

“No?”

“No. Cas is right. You only ever hurt me, Dad. It was always ‘protect Sammy,’ ‘do this,’ ‘do that.’ You never cared about me, Dad! You just wanted a good little soldier! You ruined me even more than this life did, than hell did.

“So, no. I let you walk all over me for my entire life. I let you abuse me into my twenties! But you can’t hurt Cas. You can’t hurt one of the few people in my life who genuinely cares about me. He’s made me a better person, he’s healed the damage you did. I love him, and if you can’t accept that and finally become a decent father, then you can get out. Leave. Never come back. I don’t want to see your face again.” Dean pointed at the door, hand shaking with nerves and fury.

Castiel removed his arms from a shell-shocked John. The man stared at Dean with fury and pain in his eyes.

He nodded jerkily and trudged out the door.

Dean watched him go, mind blank. The shaking got worse, and he fell back to sit on the edge of the bed.

Cas settled beside him and wrapped Dean up in his arms, silent for a time. When he finally spoke, he knew just what to say.

“I’m proud of you, Dean,” he murmured, to no response, “I know it doesn’t feel good now, but you did the right thing. He’s gone now, and you can move forward. We can do it together.”

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean said into his chest, “For… stopping him, but also for what you said. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my love. I meant every word. Now, why don’t you get into bed and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee,”

“Peppermint hot chocolate?” Dean asked.

“Of course, Dean.” With that, Cas left to fetch their drinks and, Dean was sure, to make certain John had left. Cas was perfect in that way.

With Cas gone, Dean was left alone with his thoughts. He realized how far he’d come. Even in these fifteen years since he went and got Sam at Stanford.

He used to water down his coffee with whiskey. Now he was asking for hot cocoa. He would find a new girl every week, sometimes even more often, and wouldn’t even know their names. Now he was in a steady relationship with a guy (well, angel) who he loved more than anything. He used to let John hurt him in any way he wanted to. Now he was the one who kicked him out.

He wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t even close. But he was so much better than he used to be. And Dean knew why.

He found good people. Sam. Jody, Claire, Donna, Charlie, Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Garth, and so many more. Cas. They made him better. They loved him, and helped him start to love himself.

Cas returned with two cups held carefully in his hands, a concentrated crease between his brows. He silently shuffled into place beside Dean. The angel passed over the cocoa, put his arm around his shoulder, and gave him a little peck on the cheek.

For the rest of the day the two watched movies and funny tv shows on Dean’s iPad. They cuddled and kissed and joked. It was perfect.

Because, yeah, John had screwed Dean up. But the people in Dean’s life were fixing that. And they were the people that mattered. His real family.

Tags: @beautifulsaladkitten @icesoulprincess @themoosegoes-deanicandothis @deano-cas @when-humans-were-good

[deans-baby-momma]

Mommy’s (Not So) Good Girl-20

A/N: Only 5 more chapters after this one and GREAT NEWS!!!Only 5 more day of September so I will be posting a chapter a day until Sept. 30th. Then I am going on a small hiatus (again) to try and cope with this new “illness” and all it’s lovely side effects. 

I look at Dean wide-eyed as my mom’s voice sounds through the door. He jumps off the bed and I quickly crawl back under my comforter, pulling it up to my chest. 

“Yea Mom,” Abby says, her voice shaking. “Come on in.”

Mom opens the door and I can tell when she realizes that Dean is in my room. She looks at him shocked and stops halfway in.

“What are you doing in here?” she asks him.

“I wanted to make sure she was okay. I saw a dispute between her and that Coleman boy. I wanted to find out what that was about,” Dean explains and it looks as though my Mom buys it because she smiles sweetly at him and then continues on into my room.

“That’s sweet of him, isn’t it Abs?”

“Ye-yea,” I stutter out. “He’s a good stepdad.”

“Can I have a few minutes with her?” My mom asks as she looks at Dean. He nods and heads out the door, looking back over his shoulder at me once he is behind her. 

“What’s up Mom?” I ask as soon as he is out of sight.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry that your friend couldn’t make it tonight.”

“Huh?” I ask, confused.

“Your friend who you call ‘Daddy’.” she says, with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “You did invite him, didn’t you?” 

“Oh. Yea, I called him but he had to work,” I lie through my teeth. “It’s okay. It’s no big deal.”

“It was nice of Dean to give you a kiss at midnight though, wasn’t it?” she asks as she sits in the very same spot he had taken just ten minutes ago. “He really watches out for you and Ben. I think he’d make an excellent stepdad.” She pauses and then adds, “and a wonderful dad.”

I feel sick to my stomach! Is she insinuating what I think she is?!

“Mom, are you pregnant?”

“What?” she laughs as she answers. “No. I’m not pregnant. But the thought has crossed my mind. Dean lost so much when his brother died. He is the last living member of his immediate family. I just think it’d be nice to give him someone to carry on the Winchester name.”

‘Oh my god!’ I think to myself. ‘Mom is actually considering carrying Dean’s child! No, no no!’

“Yea, that would be nice. But-” I pause to be able to word my inquiry correctly. “Does Dean want kids? I mean sure he is awesome with me and with Ben but does he want his own?”

“I don’t know,” Mom says. “But if it were to happen, he’d have to be happy about it, right?”

“Mom, you cannot get pregnant without talking about it with him first.”

Mom sighs and then her shoulders slump. “Yea, you’re right. What was I thinking?!”

I breathe in relief that it seems that she has decided to forgo her plan of “accidentally” getting pregnant. 

I couldn't go to sleep after Mom dropped that bombshell. 

What was she thinking?! Did she actually believe Dean would be happy if she were to get pregnant? Would he? I know for a fact that they use protection, so he is trying not to knock her up right?

During Thanksgiving I had found an empty condom wrapper in her trashcan as I was gathering up the garbage in the house so I knew Dean, at least, had been thorough and had wrapped up.

I lay in bed,  staring up at the ceiling,  trying my best not to think of Dean impregnating my mother. That would just be so wrong!

Hopefully I talked some sense into her and she won't proceed with her nefarious and outrageous plan. I can only hope that if she were to get pregnant that it is after some honest discussion with the man and that he was on board with the idea as well.

Although, I don't think Dean is actually ready to settle down and have his own family.

Yes, he a excellent role model for Ben and the whole neighborhood thinks he and Mom are perfect for each other, they don't know he's also fucking me. Not so ideal now, is he?

VALENTINE'S DAY

Once again the campus is inundated with decorations. Big, red floating hearts seem to be posted everywhere, along with cutouts of that stupid baby with the bow and arrow and balloons seemingly come out of nowhere, getting right in the way.

Why college students insist on celebrating this holiday is beyond me. It's just another excuse to get drunk and try to bang someone. So many of my classmates throughout the last couple of years have had to pull back on their studies or completely drop out because a good Valentine romp ended up with a nice little surprise come Thanksgiving; a surprise in the form of a cute little baby.

I refuse to be one of those girls who get so blindly drunk she succumbs to the lame attempts by fellow college guys and 9 months later, alone and with a child to care for.

I swat away at the millionth red bag of air as my phone pings in my hand.  I look at the screen and smile when I see 'Daddy' has sent me a message.

>Happy Valentine's Day sweetheart 

>>Happy Valentine's Day Daddy. I miss you.

>God, I miss you too. My party was boring without you here.

Mom had thrown Dean a surprise birthday party at the end of January but I'd had a big exam to prep for so I couldn't make it home to attend.

>>I'm sorry. I had to study. I'll make it up to you, I promise. 

>How about today? Right now?

>>Now?

>Look up.

My head jerks up and there he is! I look around and my eyes fall on that black muscle car I remember from my childhood. The one that's been parked in the garage at home for months; Dean's excuse to spend time with Ben fixing it up and keeping it running.

Leaning against the top of the shiny ebony vehicle is the man who plagues my dreams, at night and during the day.  The way the sun shines creates a flawless glow around his head, almost like a halo. I smile as I cross the street toward him.

"What are you doing here?" I can’t help but to ask, but secretly giddy that he is here.

"Couldn't let today pass by without seeing you Abby. Thought you might allow me to take you to lunch, show me around your 'home away from home'," he says as I step toward him and he opens his arms. I gladly walk right into his embrace,  moving my books to one arm. 

I want to tiptoe and kiss him but I don't want anyone seeing anything that would raise questions, inquiries I didn't want to answer. Right now,  a hug looks innocent. Just a guy hugging a girl in greeting.

“Sure,” I say as I smile up at him. “I was just gonna drop my books off in my room and then go to the food cart down the way. C’mon.”

As we walk toward my dorm, I can’t help but feel special, feel important. Dean took the day to come an hour away to see me, on the day of love no less. Wait, does that mean what I think it means? Is there a more significant reason he is here? Is he here to declare feelings for me? 

I shake those thoughts from my head, determined not to question his visit but just enjoy it. So what if he drove almost 70 miles? He does it because he cares. Nothing more than that. I’m not going to scrutinize it; no, I’m going to enjoy the few hours I get to spend with the man. What’s that old saying, ‘don't look a gift horse in the mouth’? Yea I’m not going to do that.

When we get my dorm room, I unlock the door and walk in, holding it open so he can follow. Thank goodness Sheila isn’t here because I really don’t want to share any time I get to spend with Dean with anyone else. For a few hours today, he is mine.

Placing my books on my desk, I turn to see Dean looking around the room with his head nodding slightly. 

“So, you want to go with me to the food cart or-” I say nervously. Wait, why the hell am I nervous? Oh yea, that’s right; there is a bed not even 5 feet away and the man I have dreamed of being in that bed right there. My dream could actually come through. Getting back on track, I clear my throat. “-we could go to the cafe across campus. It’s a bit of a walk but it’s decent outside today. You know, for the middle of February in the north.”

“Yea we can do that baby,” he says with a smirk. “As soon as you tell me what’s wrong. You’re acting all shifty. Should I have called first? Do you have a date for Valentine’s Day?” He quirks and eyebrow at me.

I giggle and respond. “Uh, no.  No date. Just you’re in my room. And my bed is-” I explain as I point toward the furniture. “-is right here. I’ve dreamed of you and me in that bed, ya know.”

Dean steps closer and I can see the humor of the situation on his face. “And? What are we doing in the bed?”

I feel a flush come up my neck. Why am I embarrassed now? It’s not like we haven’t done it. “Fucking,” I answer honestly, which earns me a wide smile from the man in front of me.

“Well, how long will your roommate be gone?”

“Couple hours, I think.”

“Okay, so what do you say we go grab a bite to eat and then come back and make those dreams come true?”

Finally feeling bold again, I rip my sweater over my head and say, “Why wait?”

Dean hurriedly jerks his shirt off and I watch in awe. He unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down his legs before standing up again. This man is going to be the death of me.

“I need you Abby,” is all he says before I rush him, tackling him to the mattress.

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @deanwanddamons​ @hoboal87​ @marvelfanbrenda​ @vicmc624​ @smoothdogsgirl​ @elliloumom @stoneyggirl​  @kricketc29​

[fazbear-security]

Secret Tunnels & Surprise Visits

Mike hadn’t had a week off in nearly two years, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

He’d slept as late as he could, but that had only taken him to 1pm, and most of his siblings had extra curricular activities that would keep them out until at least 6pm. His mother was working until at least then, when she picked up the kids, and Sasha’s curfew wasn’t until 11pm (and boy, did she wring it for every minute she could get). He’d tried cleaning up around the house, but that had only taken up part of his Thursday, and as much as his mother had appreciated his hard work, it hadn’t been enough to satisfy the itch in his idle hands.

The pizzeria was being renovated that weekend, and was closed from Thursday to the following Wednesday, so Mike had a good full six or seven days all to himself. Already out of things to do around the house after day one, he’d decided to tackle the one task he (and everyone else in the house) had been putting off for years.

Organizing the basement.

“You have a lot of stuff down here.” Puppet commented as he climbed up on top of an old gear locker shoved against the stairs. A pair of old workout gloves and a rolled up mat were still stuffed in it, along with a set of resistance bands. Mike made a point not to look at it. “Like, a LOT a lot.” The slender animatronic that had taken up residence under his bed poked at the curling edge of an old sticker on the side of the locker. “Don’t you guys throw anything out?”

“Does it look like it?” Mike asked rhetorically as he surveyed the mess. Where was the best place to start? Christmas ‘91? His old college stuff? That box of yearbooks that stretched all the way back to Tara’s freshman year of high school? “That’s what we’re down here to do today - pare down all this junk and get rid of the stuff we really don’t need.”

“That’s easier said than done…” Puppet eyed the mess from his perch up on the locker before jumping down, and curiously opening the nearest box. “You’ve got more stuff down here than the old location had in storage….oh!” The little animatronic leaned over the edge of the large box - almost falling in - before scrambling back out with a little box clutched in his striped fingers, and a wide smile on his mask.

“Hey! I remember these!!” He popped open the lid and ran a cloth fingertip over the enamel pins on the board inside while Mike picked another box in a stack across the room, and started to dig through it. “These are the commemorative pins from 1987! They had me give these to employees as a gift at a big party!” Puppet tilted his head curiously. “How’d they get down here?”

“The night shift isn’t the first time I’ve worked for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, you know.” Mike made a face at the musty books inside the box he’d chosen, and closed it back up. His mother still might want to donate these to the library - best to just set these aside, for now. “I spent a few months making pizzas for the other location across town before I went to college. I was out sick when that party happened, but management gave me those pins the next day.”

“You mean...we could’ve met sooner?” Puppet looked down at the old pins - at the cutesy, cartoony faces of Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, and the pizzeria’s logo - and some of his smile faded. Mike looked up from the box of old clothes he was sorting through at the heavy silence, and frowned.

“Don’t...don’t think too much about it, Puppet.” He advised, folding an old shirt that had stopped fitting a decade ago and setting it aside. “You wouldn’t have liked me when I was eighteen, anyway. I was kind of an as-...uh...kind of a jerk.” He quickly amended. Puppet frowned, and put the lid back on the box before jumping up and sliding it on top of the locker. He was absolutely keeping that.

“So?” The animatronic moved to Mike’s side, and stood as high as he could to try and  see into the clothing box. “I’ve dealt with sulky teenagers before.”

“I was a lot more than just ‘sulky’...” Mike winced. He’d been a jerk with a capital ‘J’ before he’d gone to college and gotten knocked off his pedestal. It was a miracle his parents had been able to put up with him for an entire year, honestly. “Be glad we met after I got my head on straight. It was for the best for both of us.” Puppet’s mask twisted into a frown, but Mike was determined for that to be the end of the topic, and moved the clothing box to get at the yearbooks beneath it.

“...huh?” Mike paused in the middle of opening the last box in the stack, and closed the flaps again to tilt it back, and get a better look at what had caught his attention. Puppet quickly perked up as the young man shifted the box across the floor, and off of a mysterious, rectangular shape still half-buried by all the clutter.

“Oh, cool! A secret door!” Puppet grabbed another stack of boxes and tried to push it off the shape, while Mike scratched his head in confusion.

“I...don’t remember this.” The human frowned, even as he helped Puppet to move the stack that weighed more than him. “I wonder if Mom or Dad knew about this?” He frowned as he cleared the last of the boxes off of what was now obviously some kind of old trapdoor. “Kind of seems like they tried to bury it.”

“Maybe it leads to a secret tunnel!” Puppet suggested eagerly. “Just like in that cartoon with the dog Pippa likes!” He started to bounce on his heels, and started to reach for the seam in the floor. “Let’s open it and see where it goes!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down, Puppet!” Mike snatched the little animatronic up under one arm, and stepped back before he could get his striped fingers into the crack. “We can’t just open it!” He argued. “We have no idea what might be down there - there could be rats, or spiders, or-”

THUNK.

“......” Both Mike and Puppet froze at the sound, and looked down at the trapdoor. “.....that’s a big rat.” Puppet whispered. Mike slowly - quietly - stepped back from the trapdoor, and the sound came again, only louder. He dropped Puppet back to his feet, and the little animatronic quickly hid behind the human, and dug his striped fingers into Mike’s red jacket as they both nervously watched the trapdoor.

THUNK. THUNK.

Something pounded on the trapdoor from below - something big - and a small puff of dust was kicked up from the space. Mike looked around frantically for something he could use as a weapon, and snatched up a baseball bat from another pile of junk. Luis hadn’t used it since his high school days. Surely, he wouldn’t mind?

THUNK THUNK THUNK.

The trapdoor began to rattle, and Mike swung the bat up over his shoulder as the rusty lock creaked and bent. Finally, the old metal snapped, and the trapdoor was thrown open by-....by Chica?

Mike’s brain ground to a halt as the animatronic chicken mascot from his workplace popped up through his floor, looking around with a curious hum at the cluttered basement before she laid optics on him, and broke out into a wide, toothy smile.

“Hi, Mr. Schmidt!! How’d you get here?”

“.......” The baseball bat fell out of Mike’s limp hands, and clattered to the floor. Puppet flinched at the loud sound, but Chica didn’t seem to register the human’s obvious shock, and came up the rest of the stairs and into the basement.

“Guys!” She shouted back down the stairs. “Mike’s here!” Behind her, Bonnie’s ears appeared before the rest of him, and Foxy’s hook scratched at the edge of the trapdoor hole as he hauled himself up out of the tunnel that yawned beneath the basement floor. Mike sucked in a breath through his teeth as the pirate fox - and other figures that, in no way, should have ever been in his house - rose up from beneath the floor, and stretched his limbs.

“Aaarrr, ‘tis about time!” Foxy grumbled, leaning back as if to stretch out a kink in his spine. “We’ve been walkin’ fer hours! I thought we’d be ‘alfway t’ Tortuga by now!”

“We were only down there for twenty minutes, at best.” Bonnie argued as he climbed out. “Your internal clock must be broken!”

“Jus’ like th’ rest o’ me, ey?” Foxy turned an irritable glare upon the rabbit, but his expression immediately softened when he noticed the audience Bonnie had not. “Oh! Mike! How ye’ be, lad? Ain’t seen ye’ since Wednesday eve’!” Puppet looked up at the human he hid behind with wide eyes, and Mike found the presence of mind to lower his hands from their raised position.

“....you’re in my house.” He said eloquently. Bonnie and Foxy both tipped their ears forward, and looked around the basement.

“This be your house?” Foxy flipped up his eyepatch for a better look. “It be….uh….cozy?” Bonnie shook his head and smacked the fox on the arm.

“This isn’t the whole place, buckethead.” He scoffed. “There’s an upstairs, see?” He pointed to the basement stairs, and Mike looked over just in time to see Chica’s tailfeathers disappearing at the top. His heart skipped a beat or two.“This is just a basement!” The rabbit hopped over a box on the floor, and headed up the stairs himself. “Chica, wait for me!”

“I knew that!” Foxy huffed back with a lash of his tail. The basement started to feel a little small, and Mike pulled another breath in through his teeth. Oh, god. He’d had nightmares just like this, back when he’d first started on the night shift...except he wasn’t sleeping now. He was awake, and this was real-

“I, ah, don’t suppose I could get a hand?” Mike froze, and slowly looked back down at the trapdoor to see Freddy himself seemingly wedged in the stairway opening. Behind him, he could also see the glow from Sam’s LED hat band, somewhere back within the tunnel. “I’m not as slim as the rest of you, you know!” The bear admitted.

“Aye, let’s get’che out o’ there.” Foxy reached out with his good hand to grab Freddy’s and started to pull, with Sam - presumably - pushing from behind. After a few more seconds of staring, Puppet edged out from behind Mike to help. Mike, however, remained frozen in place, and a few shades paler than he probably should have been as he tried to comprehend how one of his darkest nightmares was becoming reality right before his eyes-

“Oh, wow!” Chica’s voice echoed from somewhere upstairs - somewhere on the second floor. “It looks like Parts & Services up here, only better lit! Bonnie, you have to come see this!”

“That’s my-! Oh no.” Mike’s eyes popped wide, and he finally broke out of his frozen stupor to bolt for the stairs, leaving Puppet, Foxy, and Sam alone to try and pry the pizzeria star out through the too-small trapdoor in the floor. “That’s my room! Don’t touch anything!”

He passed Bonnie in the living room, seemingly enamoured by the many framed photos hung up behind the couch, and nearly tripped running up the stairs before he caught himself on the banister. It wasn’t until he’d made it up to the landing and thrown open his bedroom door that Mike realized that he...had no real plan for confronting the animatronic inside. He froze again in the doorway, panting, and struggling for words as Chica ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed over the variety of drawings and unfinished projects strewn about his desk.

“Whoa!!!” Chica picked up a pipe-and-wire hand model that he’d given up on three months ago, and cradled it in her hands with the reverence of a child holding a coveted toy for the first time. “This is just like our endoskeletons! Mr. Schmidt, I didn’t know you could build things!”

“I-. Uh. Um.” The unexpected praise made it even harder for Mike to find his words, and he stumbled for an embarrassingly long time before he heard the creaking of the stairs, and felt a towering presence at his back.

“Oh, neat!” Bonnie pushed his way into the room, causing Mike to stumble forward, as well, and gleefully batted at the punching bag still hanging from the ceiling next to his bed. “Heheh, what’s this thing? Does it make noise?”

“No, it-. It doesn’t make noise.” Mike reached out a hand to stop the bag from swinging, and hoped the feeling of the synthetic leather against his hand would help snap him back to reality. It didn’t do much. “It’s for hitting.”

“Oh.” Bonnie seemed to lose interest at this answer, and turned to face Chica, who had moved on to looking at the posters and pictures hanging on the wall. “Oh!” Bonnie zeroed in on one in particular, and Mike winced internally. “Who’s this kid? I haven’t seen them at the pizzeria before.”

“Yeah, you have. That’s, uh.” Mike found himself wishing he’d never framed that dumb childhood photo. “That’s me.”

“That’s you?!” Bonnie and Chica both crowded around the frame, now, and Mike prayed to any deity listening that his floor would hold under them. “Aww! You used to be so cute!”

“Bonnie!” Chica gasped, and tweaked one of the rabbit’s ears. “That’s so rude! He’s still cute!”

“......” Mike pressed both hands over his face, and leaned back until he was sitting on his bed as the two animatronics began to squabble.

Maybe, if he just sat here for long enough, his brain would get tired of this nightmare, and he’d wake up?

[severeblizzardlady]

Music in My Ears

Soulmate AU - You hear your soulmate’s music. But what are you supposed to do if they happen to be in another universe entirely? 

Pairing: Jin Bubaigawara x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Sexual themes (some non-con/dubious consent), Jin’s shenanigans (also, language barriers? Sometimes they’re a thing, sometimes they’re not), and a weeeeee bit of yandere

Disclaimer: I don’t own the music

“Baby shark, do-do-do-do-do-do. Baby shark--”

“[Name], I swear to God, you need to stop singing that fucking song.” Your cousin said, glaring at you from the corner of her eye. After visiting your cousin and her family for the week, it was time for you to fly back home. She’d offered to drive you to the airport, even though you were fine with getting a taxi. 

Obviously, she was starting to regret it.

“It’s not my fault that’s the only thing your kids wanna listen to!” You snapped. And it was true. The entire time you’d been there, those sweet, angelic children begged to hear that song at least once or twice a day. 

She muttered something then, something about “empty heads,” but Mom had taught you not to hit someone when they were driving. Louder, she said, “Just listen to the song all the way through. That should get it out.”

“Okay,” You reached for the stereo’s power button only to get your hand smacked. “Hey!”

“I’m not listening to it, use your player!”

Dammit. “Hmph, this better work,” You stuffed your earbuds into your ears, finding the song. “I don’t wanna get thrown off the plane mid-flight.” 

---

“No good, no good, no good.” Jin Bubaigawara, AKA the villain Twice, couldn’t breathe. The walls were constricting all around him, and not just from that yakuza Mimic. He’d been slow in making the wall that separated Twice from that Salaryman hero. It was on purpose, he’d wanted Jin to get caught.

No way, that couldn’t be right!

Gin grit his teeth. The pull was getting worse, the one deep inside, threatening to rip him into pieces--of course it wasn’t, he was fine. Just dandy even!

“Gonna split apart. Hooray! I’m...splitting!! I won’t!”

Hurting, it hurt so bad. No, actually, it felt just fine, like a warm bubble bath! Where was Toga? Why couldn’t he have just ignored those beaked bastards that day?

“Gonna split...if I don’t cover up!!” He, he was--

“Baby shark do-do-do-do-do-do. Baby shark do-do-do-do-do-do. Baby shark do-do-do-do-do-do. Baby shark!”

The splitting stopped. Something in Jin’s chest shifted, no it didn’t! It was deeper, in his soul. Like a piece that he hadn’t realized was missing had just snapped into place as music filled his ears. A song about sharks that just kept going in his ears. Even as Toga wrapped her handkerchief around his head to prevent him from splitting further (Unfortunately!~). 

Did this mean he had a soulmate? For all of his life, Jin had never had a soulmark. No red strings, no mysterious bruises (but the ones he made were plenty mysterious on their own!), no music...until now. The song sounded like it was for kids, a real banger! Was his soulmate a kid? They could just call him grandpa!

“If this cooperation thing doesn’t work out,” Toga said suddenly, dragging Jin out of his thoughts (She didn’t have to be jealous!). “We’ll never get our revenge.”

“It’s the end do-do-do-do-do-o. It’s the end!”

---

You didn’t get thrown off the plane. And you no longer had the Baby Shark song in your head. Both were a plus. 

Once you were home safe and sound, you had a little time to rest and relax before you were back to work again. Honestly, you hadn’t planned to spend your entire time off visiting family, but your parents blackmailed you. Really, you serenade a cat in public one time, and suddenly you’re marked for life. 

Whatever, you would do it again in a heartbeat. All cats deserve to know they’re loved!

You worked. And worked. And worked. And worked. And every day after work, you’d collapse on your couch with something quick to eat, like food from the freezer section at the store or takeout. Sometimes your neighbors, the couple in the next place over, would start yelling or start having sex. Both were loud and messed with your stomach--whether in anxiety or just...not wanting to hear them have sex because, holy shit, who had sex that often (where they leads in a smutty romance?). So you’d listen to music. 

You flinched at a dull thump that came from the wall on the other side of your apartment. You knew, from the one time they’d invited you over, that your neighbors had a bookshelf there. It sounded an awful lot like something had been slammed into it. 

“O-oh fuck!” The woman moaned.

“Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.” You nearly threw your takeout to the floor with how quickly you grabbed your ear buds. Trying to shove them into your ears as a repetitive thud started, you turned up the volume as high as you could before pressing play. Then, as Freaks by Timmy Trumpet started playing, you collected your food and hustled to the bedroom.

“I need to move.” 

---

“The bass and the tweeters make the speakers go to war. Ah, the mighty trumpet brings the freaks out to the floor.”

“You’re doing it again.” 

“Huh?” Jin whipped around to see Dabi fixing him with a blank stare. Wait, nu-uh, the blank stare was his usual look. That was Dabi’s annoyed look. 

When Jin just kept staring back, Dabi sighed. “You hearing your soulmate again? Every time you do, you start wriggling like you’re gonna pee yourself.”

“That’s because I wanna dance! Nah, you caught me, this music’s bad on my bladder!” 

Weeks had passed after the League had gotten their revenge on the bird bastard yakuza. With vengeance for Big Sis Magne taken care of, it was back to business. Well, when they felt like it anyway! They mostly lazed around a lot. 

With the yakuza’s serum in their hands, it should’ve been smoother sailing, but Jin wasn’t able to copy it. Shigaraki’s disappointment had been palpable that day (well, maybe he was just constipated!). The guilt of it weighed on Jin. Again, he’d let his friends down again. 

And yet, every time he felt down, every time he felt like a failure, he heard it. Music. His soulmate (stalker!).

The second time he heard the music was when he was in the middle of a League meeting. One second it had been quiet, nothing but Shigaraki discussing their next steps, and then: 

What a splendid pie, pizza-pizza pie. Every minute, every second, buy, buy, buy, buy, buy! 

 He was pretty sure kids didn’t listen to metal. But maybe their parents were just really edgy!! 

But the songs kept coming, none like the first. Some had a whimsical element to them, though, like the music had been doused in glitter and summoned from a unicorn’s ass. 

The music always came when Jin needed it. Always when he felt useless, like he couldn’t provide for his friends or protect their happiness. Maybe his soulmate could sense his distress and that caused the music. Nah, it was aliens.

“I still think we should find ‘em!” Toga cut in, chin resting on her hands. “Even if you don’t recognize the music, you. Being away from your soulmate for too long can’t be healthy!” 

“Yeah,” Spinner piped up, “but even so, how’re we supposed to find them? We can’t even find that music online.” 

Both were good points (eh, sorta). Soulmates had to unit at some point, particularly those with a hearing bond. Eventually, they’d begin hearing more than just each other’s music. They’d hear conversations and anything else their mate happened to hear. It drove people insane, the way the universe was desperate for destined lovers to be together. Or maybe it needed to be more aggressive, push a little harder! 

But....

“We’ll find them eventually,” Jin gave his friends a thumbs up. “For now, let’s focus on what’s ahead of us!” Of course a soulmate was nice, especially one that cared for him--so nosy!--the way his did. But his friends needed him. Unlike his soulmate, they were right there, and he could make sure they got everything they needed for their happiness. 

Toga watched him with curious eyes even when Shigaraki finally arrived for the meeting, but she didn’t say anything else. 

---

“You don’t look too good, [Name].” 

You smiled despite your upset stomach, trying to wave off your coworker’s concerned stare. “Had a little bit of food poisoning this morning.” Just the mention of food made your stomach want to wring itself out until you vomited again. 

It’d been a mistake, drinking as much as you had the night before, but you’d finally managed to snag a new place and had celebrated with a drink. Or three. Man, that had not been smart. 

“Hey, if you’re not feeling well, head on home, all right?” Your coworker said, stepping back a little. Like you were going to puke on her pumps. You would’ve bristled at that if your head didn’t hurt so much. A little bit of vomit would’ve been an improvement. Her shoes looked like they’d seen better days. “We’ve got that meeting this morning too.”

Yeah, that was the only reason you’d shown up. Your boss had reminded everyone about how important the meeting was. There was no way you could miss, especially not because you were hung over. 

As you ambled into the meeting room, there was a buzzing in your ear. You frowned, rubbing the back of your neck. Instead of dying down, especially once the meeting started, it got worse, to the point the buzzing sounded like, like music. A slow song, one full of longing and love. God, were you so messed up from just three drinks that you were suddenly hearing music? 

Which was what you thought. At first. But then it kept happening when you hadn’t had any alcohol. It was never at the same time of day, sometimes it happened when you were eating lunch or talking to someone. It was good, almost always rock after that first romantic-ish sounding song, but you had no idea why it was happening. 

You could still hear, but there was music. Music no one else could hear, and you’d asked plenty of your coworkers, nearly making an ass of yourself in the process. 

The only time it stopped was when you got home. The time you really needed it to and had to resort to your own music (until you could move out at least). 

You wondered if you were going crazy.

---

Jin was going crazy. And he didn’t want to say it was Shigaraki’s fault, because it honestly wasn’t! It really fucking was though. 

“We’re finding your soulmate,” Shigaraki said one day after they’d taken down a wannabe villain group that was trying to stake a claim on the League’s territory. The group had some valuables among them, some money and a nice stereo system.

Shigaraki had taken one look at it all and demanded it get carried back to the base. Mr. Compress, the swell guy, did all the heavy lifting, and he’d broken a sweat by the end of it! 

 “I thought we had more important things to do,” Dabi groused. He’d stepped out earlier, something about calling a potential recruit.

“We’re not doing anything without Jin,” Shigaraki stated, turning on the system. Music filled the air. “And if that means we have to take the time to find his soulmate, we’ll do it.”

If only Shigaraki wasn’t looking out for them all. If only Shigaraki didn’t believe in him. Because even with the music on his side, nothing had changed. Jin was letting everyone down because nothing seemed to be working. Not that first song, the one that was literally saying, “I’m here, darling, come find me. May this song be the only one that fills your ears so you know I’m thinking of you.” It was made for auditory soulmates by a singer with an auditory soulmate. 

It was because you were a child, wasn’t it? Because you didn’t understand, were too young, couldn’t tell your parents. You were avoiding him, wanted nothing to do with him, thought he was a waste of your time. 

The music could only do so much to fill the void your presence would fill. He couldn’t think about anything for too long without you somehow being involved. People watching turned into wondering what you were like. Fighting turned into imagining you being amazed by his abilities. Smoking out his window at night turned into dreams of you calling for him from his bed, saying you missed him. Needed him. 

But the searches still turned out nothing. The music did nothing. It was like you weren’t even real to begin with. 

Where were you?

---

“It doesn’t look like anything’s wrong. To be honest, your hearing seems to be even better than most at your age!”

That had been the oto--ear doctor’s diagnosis after he’d tested you. After a quick Google search, you’d been sure you had tinnitus, which would’ve made sense with how much music you played to drown out your surroundings, but apparently you were wrong.

You hadn’t told the doctor you were hearing full songs that you’d never heard before. But maybe you should’ve? Even as you’d gotten in your car after the appointment, you could hear it again, that slow, yearning song that you’d first heard. God, if only Google had a melody search bar!

The music had stopped as you pulled into the apartment parking lot. You sighed. “Just like clockwork, huh?” 

It was your last night at the apartment. Tomorrow, you were moving everything into a new place. One that  was closer to your work so you’d be able to walk more. Maybe get some fresh air. And maybe the change would make the weird music go away. 

Not wasting a second, you pulled out your headphones and stuck them in your ears. Who knew what would be waiting for you tonight? At least it would be the last time though! With that happy thought, you stepped out of your car....

and felt the world give way underneath your feet.

---

“I know that we’re just perfect strangers, and perfect strangers, that just won’t do, no.”

God, were you trying to kill him? 

Another day fighting nobodies and taking everything they had. Jin felt like his skin was too tight on his bones, like everything was too loud and too bright and not bright enough. Jin had gone back to the base early. It was a bad idea, too dangerous (how fun!) on his own. But he needed to play the song again. 

He’d been playing  music all the time to tell you he was there listening, waiting, needing. Except you weren’t coming (Sure you were!), always just teasing him with your stupid music--nope, you were definitely calling to him right back!

“Why not make today the day that a perfect stranger falls for you, oh!”

You didn’t want anything to do with him, that was why you were hiding! The fabric of his costume crinkled as Jin clenched his fists, body shaking with rage. You were just mocking him, tormenting him, he wasn’t worth your time at all!

“Then I don’t need you either!” He roared, lunging at the sound system--

There was a rumble. The building shook, throwing Jin off balance. He yelped, tumbling and shielded his head at the last second. The shaking stopped as soon as it started.

“What the hell?”

Yeah--wait. He didn’t say that. Slowly lowering his arms, Jin found himself staring at a complete stranger in the middle of the League’s base. 

---

You were sitting in some sort of warehouse. You blinked. Then you blinked again, just to see if that would help. It didn’t. “What the hell?”

Your ear buds were still in, “Herp de Derp” still playing in your ears. And you would’ve taken them out right away if it weren’t for the costumed guy on the floor staring at you. 

Was he some sort of cosplayer? The costume, black with silverish gray lines on the body suit and red wrist...things and a mask that was half gray and half black, looked sort of familiar. Like you’d seen it on Adult Swim at some point while channel surfing late at night. 

You hoped that all the muscle accentuated by the suit was padding. Wait, no, you needed to leave. 

“S-Sorry, I...where am I exactly?” He said something then, but you couldn’t quite hear because, duh, your music was still on. “Um, sorry,” you tapped your ears and tried to smile (it was all getting creepier by the second), “just lemme....” 

Tapping a finger on the screen, you paused the music, pulling out your ear buds.

The guy jolted to his feet then, making you flinch (you were starting to think the muscles were his, if the way they flexed was any indication). You had no idea what kind of expression he had under that mask but the eye holes were wider than they’d been before. Like he was bugging out. “You.”

“Y-yeah?” He had a really nice voice. It was a shame things were getting more surreal and even creepier by the second. You were still on the ground, your legs felt numb.

He was on you before you even realized it, solid, warm body pushing into you, making you feel that, no, there was no padding. The shock of it startled you, making your nerves zing in a way they never had before, like something about this was right, even as your stomach flopped at the fact that you were in a strange place with a strange man who was touching you. 

His body slotted against yours perfectly, making you feel every inch of him. Your mouth was dry, no words could come out, only a slight squeak. “You’re not a kid, I was worried. I was looking forward to being called ‘grandpa’!” His hands trembled as they went to your face, tracing your lips, cupping your cheeks. “I knew the universe would make sure we came together. Except this was all me!” 

You had no idea how to respond, not to his babbling or his contradictory way of speaking. You didn’t get a chance to either. His mouth was on yours, lower half of his mask pushed up out of the way. There was a vague feeling of stubble, but all you could focus on was the tongue in your mouth, inviting yours to meet it. 

All you could focus on was the thick hands sliding down to your ass to drag you forward until you were sitting in this man’s lap. 

All you could focus on was the heat of it all. Of how good it felt. Of wanting more. Of wanting to go home, wherever that was. 

He moaned when you clutched at his back, mouth leaving yours to plant kisses down your neck. “My soulmate, all mine. Finally.” He panted the words between each kiss, as though being away from your skin for even a second was too long.

Soulmate?

You shivered when he began to shift, hands moving to your hips. When he finally spoke again, his voice was raspy, thick with desire and something too dark to be considered love:

“I’ll never let you go.”

[just-writing-things]

Once a triplet

A collaboration between me and @the-writer-girl-nerd

Follow my main blog

@multifandom-miracle

It had been a quiet day in Duckburg, which was not a good thing. It meant the other shoe was going to fall. It meant something was going to happen. Something bad. Something… Dangerous. And sure, the rest of his family thrived on danger, but for Louie, he would prefer a little less catastrophe. So, even though it should have been a quiet, lazy Saturday, he was anxious. Waiting for something to go wrong.

Then the question, posed by Della, “Where’s Huey?” The other shoe fell.

Dewey shrugged as his other brother joined him and their mom in the foyer of Scrooge’s mansion.

“Probably organizing his Junior Woodchuck guidebooks in alphabetical order or something.” Dewey guessed as he headed towards the stairs to grab his video camera from their room.

Louie waved off Della’s comment as well, following Dewey upstairs and cornering him when they were alone.

“Should we maybe worry about where Huey is? Maybe something is going on?” He didn’t want to jump to conclusions or start panicking immediately, but it had been so quiet. And quiet never ended well.

“Why?” Dewey asked, pushing the door to their room open. “I’m sure he’s…..”

Dewey stopped in his tracks. The room was a mess, books and comics all over the floor, the blankets untucked, and a picture of the Duck family on the floor, the frame cracked and splintered.

“Fine?” Dewey finished, a warble of uncertainty in his voice. He didn’t notice Huey’s hat, crumpled on the floor, no sign of its wearer in sight.

“Yeah,” Louie said, eyes wide and horrified, picking up the hat and waving it in the air, “I’m sure he’s fine.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, masking the fear.

Dewey took the hat from his brother. “Huey never goes anywhere without this! Where do you think he is?”

“If I had any idea where Huey was then we would already be there, looking for him! The only one who has any idea where Huey is is Huey.” Louie went to the closet and pulled down Huey’s conspiracy board, a few red threads hanging loose. He studied the board a little longer and made a guess.

“Uh, maybe the marina? Or the Beagle Boys’ hideout. Or maybe Funzo’s. I could be, might be… Definitely, probably am wrong…” He doubted himself more when he was anxious, and this definitely made him anxious. His brother could be seriously hurt or worse.

“Hey, don’t panic. We’ll find him!” Dewey reassured his brother enthusiastically. Actually, Dewey was just as anxious as his younger brother was, though he didn’t like to show it.

“Find who?” Another bright voice asked, making the two boys jump. Webby rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, clasping her hands behind her excitedly with stars in her eyes, ready for another adventure.

“Huey is missing. The room is a wreck and nothing is okay,” Louie said, “And we can’t tell Mom or Uncle Donald because they’d freak out.”

“Wait, what? Wouldn’t they want to help find him?” Webby stopped bouncing, a confused look on her face.

“I just… If we can’t find him today, we’ll let them know,.” Louie suggested.

“Oh. Okay, well let’s get searching!” Webby said gleefully as she skipped into the hallway, the boys following behind.

Louie had a feeling she didn’t get it. Huey was missing. Someone had probably taken him, there had certainly been some sort of struggle. That wasn’t something gleeful. He was glum and quiet as he walked behind her.

Dewey noticed the trudge in his brother’s steps and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, a light squeeze reassuring him that they would do this together. “Hey, Webs?” Dewey called down the hall to the bubbly, pink dressed girl.

“This is kind of serious, I mean...Huey might have been kidnapped. This isn’t just another adventure, it could be super dangerous!”

“Oh,” Webby said, “good point.” She sobered up, looking between the brothers.

“But don’t worry, guys! We’ll find him. Even if something bad happened, it’ll turn out okay.”

“Thanks, Webby.” Louie said quietly.

The three ventured off towards Funzo’s Fun Zone. (Where fun is in the zone!)

When they arrived, the place seemed….quieter than usual. It was strange, especially for a Saturday. Not a single server looked their way as the kids made their way to a back table. Louie began to make a flattering comment to a waitress passing by, but she scurried away, squeaking in nervousness.

"This place is dead," Louie muttered, "Something is wrong here. Maybe that's why Huey…" Nothing could happen to his brother. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to Huey. Maybe everything would be fine but his mind rushed to worst-case scenarios. He thought about someone hurting Huey, or worse, and he just felt sick. Huey was his brother and Louie would die to protect him if he had to.

Webby glanced back at the boys, and for the first time, really noticed the grave and anxious look on Louie’s face.

“Hey, Lou?”

The young duck wasn’t paying much attention. He was too nervous, thinking about whatever could have happened to his oldest brother.

“Louie?”

Louie's head snapped up and he tried to fake a look of, well not confidence but apathy, and yet he couldn't shake his nerves.

"What's up, Webby?"

“You don’t…..”

Webby tried to choose her next words carefully.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” she spoke timidly.

Dewey stopped in his tracks.

“Wait, Louie...do you really think that?”

Louie covered his face with one hand.

"No! Of course not! It's just you know if we, if I were a better brother maybe Huey would be with us and not somewhere super dangerous maybe getting chopped into little pieces." Louie should’ve been paying more attention to Huey, then he would know what was happening. He felt incredibly guilty for seeming apathetic in the past about what happened to his brothers. He cared so much and maybe if he had shown that Huey wouldn’t have disappeared alone.

Webby and Dewey looked at each other, not quite sure how to respond to that.

Dewey put a hand on his youngest brother’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Webby did the same.

“This isn’t going to be like....well like when Mom first came back.” Dewey knew that would strike a nerve, but bringing it up even made him wince. He tried to recover his statement, though not very well.

“And that time you were the richest duck in the-”

"Alright, I get it, you don’t have to remind me of every mistake I ever made, I don't want to dwell on my past mistakes right now but I'm serious. Huey is missing. It's not my fault, maybe, but I still should've been able to do something and I can't."

“You just gotta look for the right angles, c’mon!” Dewey shook his brother back and forth vigorously. “You can do- I mean dewey it!” the blue triplet chuckled to himself.

Louie removed himself from his brother's grip.

“Alright, let’s see. Angles, angles…" He looked around Funzo's.

"Hmmm…"

Louie scanned the zone, looking for each possibility between the workers, the kitchen, the arcade, and the playground, for any pesky foes sneaking around.

He snapped his fingers.

“Okay, Here’s the plan. Webs, check the arcade, ship, and ball pit. Pay close attention to the scores of that one pattern game Huey likes to beat everyone at when we come here.”

“Got it,” Webby gave a thumbs up and rushed into the arcade.

“Dewey, ask the staff members if they’ve seen Huey, or anyone suspicious. Try to check the kitchen, see if anything weird is going on in there.”

“On it!” Dewey replied, slicking a hand over his head, and strutting over towards the tables, singing a beat of “Dewey-dewey-dew” to himself.

Louie stood alone then, looking around, whispering to himself, "And Louie-" He didn't get to give himself a task before he was picked up by his hood and spun around by Ma Beagle.

"The green one! I saw him come in with the blue and pink one, too.” Big Time Beagle snickered, rubbing his hands together in evil delight.

“Where are they?" Ma Beagle asked, squinting and looking around.

"Where's Huey?" Louie squeaked, struggling against Ma Beagle's hold.

"You're not the one who gets to ask questions.” Ma Beagle growled. “Boys, find the other two."

Bouncer headed off towards the arcade, Webby just on the other side of the wall. Burger chased after Dewey, right into the kitchen.

“What about me Ma?” Big Time asked impatiently, twiddling his thumbs with an antsy grin.

Ma Beagle rolled her eyes. She knew better than to leave the little green brat alone with her son, as previous events proved Big Time unworthy of the job. She sighed, and rubbed her temple in aggravation.

A loud crash in the kitchen grabbed their attention before Ma Beagle could scold her son. Dewey rolled out of the kitchen, landing flat on his face. He was just about to jump up and make a run for it, but Burger tripped out of the doors, his face covered in pizza sauce and soda. He landed right on the young duck, trapping him.

Ma Beagle smirked, pushing her son off Dewey and grabbing him.

“That’s two!” She snarled, as both boys struggled in her grasp.

“Seriously? The Beagle boys?” Dewey rolled his eyes.

“We’re not up to anything!” Louie desperately tried to lie, "You’re just paranoid because you're old." He got slapped.

“Hey! Don’t treat my brother that wa-” Ma Beagle held Dewey’s beak shut. Dewey tried to signal to Louie, now afraid for both of them. Hopefully Webby wouldn’t get caught and would go get help.

“Quit your yapping!” Ma Beagle snapped.

"Let us go!" Louie fought until he was tied up, his beak also held shut.

The two triplets struggled against the ropes furiously. Dewey’s eyes widened as he looked around, trying to figure out where they were. This place seemed familiar, though he couldn’t remember why. His breath hitched as they were tied up and left in the dark. The middle child wasn’t particularly fond of the dark, especially after the events at Castle McDuck.

Louie began to cry quietly without meaning to, and his tearful state only worsened when Webby was thrown in beside them, also tied up. He'd failed. He was useless and he'd failed. Now his whole family was in danger because he hadn't been able to talk their way out of the problem. This was all his fault.

Dewey noticed his youngest brother’s silent cry. His chest ached, wishing he could help, wishing that he could comfort him, that he could do something to make Louie believe in himself. He had no idea where to go from here. Even worse, no one knew where they were. The thought of never seeing Uncle Scrooge, Uncle Donald, Launchpad, Huey or his mom ever again made him sick. Why hadn’t they told one of the adults? Dewey felt foolish for thinking they could handle this on their own.

That had been Louie's fault too, his call, his decision, and he was arrogant for making it. To think that they could handle this on their own, save Huey on their own, was idiotic. Louie was good at faking confidence. Somehow, this time, he’d pulled his brother and Webby along and now they were all in terrible danger. He glanced at Webby to see if she could get them out of this but she appeared unconscious, no doubt having given whatever unsuspecting Beagle Boy that had grabbed her one doozy of a fight. Louie panicked when he saw that she was hurt and flinched and fought hard against the bindings, finally giving up and hanging his head, ready to succumb to their demise.

Then he heard a familiar voice. A wonderfully familiar voice.

"The boss said I could take over from here." Huey sounded so confident that the Beagle boys standing guard believed him, until they turned around and saw the red triplet. It didn't matter, though, because Huey shot them each with a tranquilizer gun.

"I don't exactly know what you three are doing here but let's try and get going before someone comes looking for us." Huey untied his brothers and was pulled into a big hug, first by Louie, then by Dewey. Louie only cried harder, this time from relief, as he held onto Huey.

“Whoa, Louie, it’s alright! I’m okay, guys.” Huey squeezed his brothers tightly.

“What the heck happened to you?” Dewey asked, irritated at first, but overwhelmed with relief that his brother wasn’t hurt. “We thought you were kidnapped! Or worse!”

The boys jumped as they heard a groan from Webby, who was still a bit woozy from the fight.

"Well," Huey said slowly, "I was. But, sort of on purpose. I set a trap, trying to get into F.O.W.L. You guys would never believe what I've found but-" Huey looked around nervously, "That's for another time. Webby, hang on to us, we've got to run.”

"You couldn't have left a note?!" Louie hissed.

"I did. Did you guys not find it?" Louie facepalmed. They could have avoided this whole thing by looking harder for a note? He could hardly believe it. Another consequence of just rushing in, of pretending to be confident without stopping to think first. He wiped the tears out of his eyes as they ran, not knowing what to do anymore.

“Uh no?! Obviously not!” Dewey groaned, trying his best to hang on to Webby and keep up with his brothers at the same time. Huey gave an exasperated sigh.

"Don't sigh like that," Louie snapped, "we came here to save you. It's not our fault that you ended up saving us."

“Well it’s not my fault you guys got captured either!” Huey shot back. That was like a slap in the face to Louie. He bit back tears and was ready to make another sharp remark towards Huey when the boys’ exit was blocked by a large rooster with a sharp beak made out of metal.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

Louie looked around.

"Huey, I don't think we're in the ball pit at Funzo's anymore." Playing dumb worked about 50% of the time.

“You’re darn right! You’re in Steelbeak’s house now!” The villain cackled.

"This is your house? It's nice but we shouldn't be here. Our Uncle says we're not really supposed to talk to strangers and we're really not supposed to be in your house, so it's really nice to meet you, Mr. Steelbeak, sir, but we’ve got to get going!" Louie saluted the villain and tried to walk out, acting fully confident.

Huey resisted the urge to facepalm, and tried to play along.

“Um, yeah, according to the JWG, 46% of kidnappings happen by talking to strangers, so...bye!” Huey ducked under Steelbeak’s arm, making a run for it, and Louie and Webby, who had recovered save for a bit of a bruised knee and a few scratches, followed suit.

Dewey however….

“Wait a minute, aren’t you from the Double O Duck simulation game? But how did you-”

"Dewey come on, we can't talk to strangers!" Louie called, ducking in long enough to grab his brother and drag him away. After that, there was no looking back.

The kids sped towards the bus stop, catching the bus right before the doors shut.

Dewey and Webby watched through the back window as Steelbeak tried to run after them, but was stopped by… Well, they weren’t sure who, but Webby could’ve sworn it was Gandra.

The young ducks slowly climbed the front steps of the mansion, trying to catch their breath.

"You can't just disappear like that," Louie said suddenly, turning on Huey, "We were worried sick. I thought you might be dead!"

“Yeah, but I’m not. I can’t believe you didn’t see the note! I left it on your daily can of Pep!” Huey crossed his arms as they entered the foyer.

"I didn't see it! I didn't drink Pep today, is that a freaking crime? You should've told us you were gonna go try to be the hero!"

"I didn't try to be the hero, I am. I saved all of you from something that could've been avoided if you'd just tried a little harder to find my note!" Huey spat back.

Louie threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Why did we even try to save you?" But once the words were out of his mouth he regretted them.

"I'm sorry. Huey, I don't mean that, just… You've got to understand that we were really worried. We lost mom once. I can't lose you too."

Huey stepped back, a strange combination of hurt, guilt, and surprise weighing him down. He clenched his fists.

“Do you think I wasn’t worried? When I saw that you guys had been kidnapped? At least I can take responsibility for my actions!” Huey had never been this angry before.

“Alright, both of you just chill out!” Dewey exclaimed, stepping between his brothers.

Huey stepped back and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” he said quietly, barely glancing at Louie and opting to stare at the floor instead.

"I said I was sorry," Louie muttered, crossing his arms and hugging himself, "I thought we were doing the right thing, going after you. I'm sorry we didn't find your note. I'm sorry we worried you. Whatever. I'm sorry." He sounded bitter, still, turning and heading upstairs to their trashed room. They'd nearly lost Huey. Louie had already been feeling like a failure. Huey had just made it worse.

Huey groaned and ran a hand through his hair out of frustration.

“After all I do for him,” he muttered.

“Whoa hang on a minute,” Dewey grabbed his older brother’s arm before he could walk off.

“That was a bit harsh Hue.” Webby nodded.

“Louie was doing his best. He did get us past Steelbeak after all. We might not have made it home at all if it wasn’t for Louie. We were trying to help you. And after what happened with mom? Don’t you remember what that felt like?”

Huey stopped. He crossed his arms and nodded solemnly. When they found out what had happened to their mom....Well, he didn’t show it, but Huey had taken it pretty hard. He found it more difficult to trust people, even his own family. He became more independent. And when their mother returned, all he wanted to do was prove himself. He was just as good at solving mysteries as his brothers. Even though he couldn’t always talk his way out of situations. Not like Louie could.

“I….I didn’t think about it like that. I’m sorry Dewey.” The brothers hugged. Dewey punched his older brother lightheartedly on the shoulder.

“Thanks, but I’m not the only one you need to say sorry to.”

Huey nodded and looked towards the staircase that led up to their room.

Louie was sitting in his room, on his bed, playing with an old toy truck he'd gotten as a little kid. It was one of the few toys he'd had growing up that was his alone. Everything else he'd shared with his brothers, and not just toys, worries, heartbreaks, happiness. They went through all of it together. He understood Huey wanting to prove himself but after everything that they had been through, he couldn't help worry that he was losing his brother. And if he wasn't losing Huey to some secret organization, then maybe he was losing Huey to growing up and growing apart, and that scared him even more.

A knock on the door drew him from his thoughts. Huey gave a sympathetic smile as he entered, rubbing the back of his neck and plucking his hat from the ground.

“Hey Louie.”

Louie didn’t say anything.

Huey stepped over a pile of books and comics that had half-heartedly been pushed out of the way of the triple bunk. He took a breath, staring at his feet and fidgeting with his hands.

“Look, I need to apologize. I’m sorry I made you worried. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what I was doing. I’m sorry I assumed you would be able to follow my plan without any explanation.” Huey paused, and looked up at Louie.

But most of all, I’m sorry I didn’t see how much I needed you before.”

Louie looked up in shock.

"You… I… What? I failed you. I didn't see your note, I let the others get captured, hurt even, I couldn't protect them or you. You don't need me…"

“What are you talking about? Louie, of course I need you! If I had brought you with me, maybe I could have avoided getting you guys captured in the first place. I can’t do everything you can, you’re the only person I know who can act dumber than the bad guys and still outsmart them!” Huey seated himself next to his youngest brother, gently putting his arm around Louie.

“You’re my brother, I’m always gonna need you.”

Louie smiled a little, leaning into the hug, "Thank you. I'm always going to need you too."

“Awww guys!” Dewey jumped onto Louie’s bed with arms spread wide, knocking the triplets over. The three laughed, with an unspoken promise to never abandon each other again, and the knowledge that they would always be there for each other.