#Going through my endless playlist is always nice

[kaminocasey]

In the Tide

Summary: A soft moment is shared between two commanders on a beach.

Pairing: Jedi!Reader x Wolffe

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Partial nudity? Soft!Wolffe, reader gets self conscious about body, Jedi!Reader

WC: 1.5K

A/N: I didn't write this with a part 2 particularly in mind, but lemme know if I should write one! Obviously this isn't for everyone, and that's alright. <3 :) (pics from pinterest)

TAGLIST FORM │Wolffe Playlist

For the first time in weeks, you get to feel the sun kiss your skin once again. It’s been so long since you’d gotten to bask in any sort of sunlight. And now, since you have a few days of rest, you’ve gone trekking through the woods until you’re met with an endless blue on blue. A cloudless blue sky and an ocean so turquoise, you could cry. What a gorgeous sight. 

Closing your eyes and reaching out into the force around you, you make sure that you’re safe and there are no threats, but nothing makes itself known. As you drop your pack, you pull out a blanket and set it down on the warm sand, kicking off your boots first, smiling at the feel of it trickling between your toes. Then, you take off your robes, and your under clothes until you’re in just your undergarments. As you start walking toward the ocean, you feel a familiar presence and you stop, turning toward him.  

“Commander?” Wolffe stands in front of you, eyeing your nearly naked form. 

You cross your arms, slightly self conscious. “Oh, Commander Wolffe. You found me.” 

He notices the change in your body language and looks away. 

“Is everything okay? Am I needed back at base?” You ask, prepared to throw your robes back on. 

“No, ma’am. I just… wanted to make sure you were safe.” He stands awkwardly with his arms at his side, but his hands fidget slightly, like he’s not sure what to do. 

“Oh. That’s nice of you. There’s nothing threatening on this beach.” You smile, teasingly. “Except perhaps yourself.”

You don’t miss the slight huff of a laugh that he’d never let anyone other than his brothers and Master Plo Koon hear. It’s a nice sound and you like his smirk. 

“Did Plo send you?” You start to wiggle your toes in the sand again. 

“No, he didn’t. I came on my own.” He looks at you again and you can’t help but grin.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you might care about me, Wolf- Commander.” You tease, sitting down on the blanket and pat the spot next to you.

He looks back toward the treeline, perhaps to make sure no one else was coming, and then starts to unclick his plastoid armor. Slightly entranced, you can’t seem to look away. And when you look up at his face, you find his eyes never leaving your face. A heat that’s hotter than the sun creeps through your veins at the realization. 

Your mouth goes dry the moment he strips down to just his briefs, causing you to quickly look away toward the horizon as he sits next to you on the blanket. You’d never seen a clone without clothes before, but you know you’re never gonna forget how toned Wolffe is. How his tanned skin practically gleams in the bright sun. 

There’s always been a sort of trust between you and Wolffe. He didn’t find you incompetent like a lot of the Jedi. He’d never say as much, but he didn’t trust many of them. Perhaps just you, Master Plo Koon, and Master Kenobi. But you always felt there was possibly something more than trust between the two of you. It could just be in your head, though. 

“I wish I could see this every day.” You murmur, crossing your legs. 

“I hate the ocean.” Wolffe tells you, honestly.

“Why’s that?” You ask, looking at him.

His eyes, one brown, one cybernetic, are focused on yours. 

“Reminds me of Kamino.” He shrugs.

You suppose that’s understandable. You’d only heard rumors of the extensiveness that the higher rank clones had to go through. 

“So, swimming with me is off the table?” You ask, smiling. 

His face is serious as ever as he looks out at the calm waves. “Not safe.” 

“Can you see that with that eye of yours?” You tease. 

He smirks, amused. “Sure.” 

You let out a disappointed huff and fall back on the blanket, letting the warm sun wash over you. When you open your eyes, landing on Wolffe, you notice him staring at your bare stomach. Immediately self conscious, you cross your arms over your stomach but his hands stop you. 

“Don’t.” He murmurs, softly. 

“What?” Your mouth goes dry again.

“Don’t cover up…” He whispers, placing your wrist to your side. “You don’t need to do that. Not with me.”

“O-okay.” You can’t look away from him now. 

You sense desire roll over him and if you weren’t already laying down, you’re pretty sure the full force of his desire would be enough to knock you over. Does he know that you can sense these things? Surely with Plo Koon as his general, he does. 

“Wolffe?” You whisper, softly. 

He’s looking at your lips now and the absolute fire that was coursing through your veins only moments ago makes its way much, much lower. With parted lips, you reach up for Wolffe, ghosting your fingers down his muscular bicep. He stops your hand with his own and holds it there. 

You’re not sure how long you stare at each other like that. Can he sense the desire radiating from you? Does he know you well enough by now? You hope so.

A beeping comes from both your comms, indicating you’re needed back at base. With a breathless, yet annoyed, huff, Wolffe lets go of your hand and pressing the button on both of your comms to let them know you both got the message. 

He stands up and hands you your clothing, turning around to give you a moment of privacy while he also dresses and clicks his armor into place. The intimate moment between you is long gone as you realize you have to go back to reality. 

As you pack the blanket back up, grabbing your pack, you look back out at the ocean for another moment and when you turn around, you find Wolffe staring at you again. 

“Wha-” You start but he cuts you off by running his hand around your lower back to pull you against himself. 

You look up into his eyes and realize he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop, but you want this just as bad, if not more. 

“Please…” You whisper, glancing at his lips.

That’s all the confirmation he needed as he gently brushes his lips over yours. It’s not exactly what you were expecting. You were expecting quick roughness. Like his fighting style. This is… leisurely soft. Like he has all the time in the world to do this. You wish you did. Finding yourself kissing him back, you drop your pack back into the sand and wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him. To this moment. 

“I’ve… wanted to do that for some time now… Commander.” He smiles ever so slightly. 

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about it as well.” You smile up at him, cupping his cheek, softly. 

He rests his head against yours for just a moment and then lets go of you. “We should head back.” 

You nod in agreement and pick your pack up as he picks his helmet up out of the sand, dusting it off and tucking it under his arm as you start your trekk back through the woods. 

Then, Wolffe surprises you again. He offers his free arm and you can’t help the little flip in your stomach as you hide your smile and take it, wrapping your hands around the cool plastoid. How is it so cool after being in the sunlight? 

You want to ask him so many things. But you know he’s a man of few words, and you definitely don’t want to annoy him. 

“Can I ask you something?” He surprises you again and asks. 

“Oh. Of course.” You nod. 

“Did you know?” He asks, looking down at you.

“Know what?” You give him a confused look.

“About my feelings for you?” He stops to stand in front of you. 

“I um… had my suspicions… in a way.” You smile up at him, taking his hand. 

He nods. “I’m not used to this…” 

“I know. It’s okay. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Wolffe.” You start walking back toward the base, seeing it just through the treeline. 

He falls in step next to you again. “Maybe… we could continue our moment later tonight?” 

“I’d like that very much.” You can’t seem to stop smiling.

When you return to base, you’re needed immediately in the briefing tent and yet… your mind can’t help but linger on that moment with Wolffe on the beach and what tonight could hold for the two of you. 

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

[arjwrites]

— Good to know bc im here to request another Castiel x Winchester!reader (oldest sister) hehehehe...

Remember when Castiel became a human and that reaper April used him? I was thinking about the reader in her place, where she ACTUALLY likes Cas and takes care of him. The reader really loves him and doesn't care that he's a human now with no angel powers, he's still the man/angel she loves and care (I'm still mad that Dean kicked Cass out of the bunker)

It's his first time being human, he deserves some love 😞 (And I rlly need some comfort aughhh)

I think I wrote too much, sorry! It's just that I really love human Castiel, he deserved more ❤️‍🩹 — 👼 angel anon

Lessons on Humanity- Human!Castiel x Reader

Summary: Human!Cas arrives on your doorstep in need of a helping hand. Taking him under your wing, you offer him more than he bargained for.

Warnings: None (I don't think???) GN!Reader, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Well, this took forever. Idk why this gave me the WORST case of writer's block ever, but.... I think I just wanted it to be perfect for you, angel anon!!! I hope you enjoy hehehehehe <3333

Leaving hunting behind had been a tough decision, but leaving your brothers and Castiel behind had been even harder. But after all the years, your body screamed for rest, and your heart mourned the years of loss and trauma. It wasn’t like you had completely up and abandoned them- you still took their calls, visited the bunker from time to time, and took on many a research request (which had always been your specialty anyways). But you had grown so tired of the life. And as much as moving into the bunker had been a massive improvement from the endless series of motel rooms you’d grown up with, living in a concrete man-cave with your brothers had proven difficult. And you had always craved a home- somewhere that could be uniquely yours. This had led you to settle down into a sweet cottage, a bit off the beaten path in a quaint little town- not too far from the bunker, but far enough. It was cozy, nothing fancy by any means- two small bedrooms, a slightly outdated kitchen, and a snug little living room you had furnished with thrifted couches and a secondhand TV. What it lacked in elegance, it made up for in character. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

It was a Friday night. You had just gotten off work, ordered a pizza, popped your favorite playlist in your speakers, and were currently dancing around and vacuuming your living room. Ah, domesticities. It was always a nice feeling to be done for the weekend, to have a job you could hang up for a few days and not worry about until Monday morning rolled around. Not like hunting, with its worries that clung tight to you all hours of every day. After finishing your cleaning task, you flopped to the couch, clicking through the TV to find a suitable show to binge alongside your food. 

Two crisp knocks at the door pulled you from your search. That was quick, you thought to yourself. You practically skipped to the kitchen to grab your purse, wanting to hand the delivery driver a few extra dollars for the particularly speedy service. But when you swung the door open, more than just the chilly evening air sent a wave of shock your way. 

“Oh my God,” was about all you could whisper. In front of you stood Castiel, though he didn’t look much like his usual self. He wore a sweatshirt you didn’t recognize and had a slightly unkempt, unshaven look to him. But beyond his appearance, it didn’t feel like Cas. His shoulders were slumped over as if he was carrying the weight of them for the first time. He wore an expression so tired, so hurt, that your heart broke at the sight of it. 

“Cas, honey. What happened?” 

“I don’t have my grace. I… lost it. They told me I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to bother you, but… I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“Oh, Cas. Come in, God, come in.” Your brow furrowed as you gestured for him to enter, concern filling your body. What had you missed? Why didn’t he have his grace? Why wasn’t he with Sam and Dean?

Cas gingerly stepped through your door, barely making it inside the threshold before turning to you, as if he was waiting to follow your lead.

“Come, come sit,” you beckoned him after you, leading him into the living room and patting a seat for him on the couch. He sat, glancing around your room before landing his gaze back to you. You could tell there was something different about him- it was like he was seeing everything around him for the first time. 

“So tell me what happened, Cas,” you hummed, gathering every ounce of soothing calm you could muster in hopes you could offer him some comfort.

Cas jumped into his story, telling you all about Metatron, the angels, and him losing his grace- all the things you had missed out on since stepping back from hunting. You nodded along, listening intently, compassionately, quietly- that is, until he told you about the events that lead him to your doorstep.

“He kicked you OUT?” You rose to your feet as he said this, unable to contain your anger in your seated posture. You felt the rage bubble from the deepest part of your stomach, rising quickly to your chest. Poor, sweet Castiel, who tries so hard and deserves so much. Cast out like he was nothing. It was enough to drive you into a blind rampage. Cas, on the other hand, remained seated, eyes fixed to the carpet, dejected. 

“I just don’t know what to do. I have all these… feelings I’m not used to.” 

“Of course you don’t, honey. It’s all so new. I’ll help you figure things out, alright?” You thought for a moment about what may be most urgent. “Cas, how long have you been human for?”

“Well, a few days now.”

“And have you eaten? Drank water? Slept?” 

“I had a candy bar.” 

“Oh, you poor thing, Cas. Look… Sit tight, I’m going to get you a glass of water, and I have food on the way. Do you like pizza? No, you don’t know if you like pizza, do you…” You let your voice trail off as you hustled to the kitchen, fixing him a glass of water and returning it to him hastily. 

Cas lifted the glass, inspecting it, before tipping it back and downing it in one go. You watched the water slide out of the cup, disappearing down his throat in record time. There was one basic need supported. 

“Alright, Cas, why don’t you sit there and relax for a little? I’m going to go make up the guest bedroom for you. Is that alright?” You tilted your head to the side to better gauge his thoughts on the matter. Cas returned you a soft smile and nodded. You let out a subtle puff of breath in relief before retreating up the stairs. 

As you grabbed bedding from the linen closet and began to stretch the fitted sheet over the mattress, you couldn’t help but allow your body to take over the menial routine, while your mind fluttered off elsewhere. The angry pit in your stomach persisted, a deepening disgust for the way the angel had been treated, including by your brothers, of all people. But nestled in your chest above your swirling stomach sat your heart, which swelled at the thought of Cas, here with you. In all honesty, he had always meant a lot to you. You had so much admiration, so much reverence for the angel- of course, now that he wasn’t exactly an angel, that didn’t change anything. That was never what it was about. You saw deeper than just Cas’s angelic power- you saw him. Grace or not, there was no changing that. This was still the same angel, the same man, the same being you had always known. Only now, he really needed someone to be there for him. And you intended to do that- slowly, surely, gently. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from down the stairs. Instantly, your mind snapped to the worst-case scenario- call it a lingering hunter’s instinct. You raced down the stairs, only to find Cas perched on the couch, exactly where you had left him.

“Someone knocked on the door,” he whispered wide-eyed, as if it was some sort of intruder behind the door, waiting politely to be let in so he could go about his business.

You breathed a sigh of relief, willing yourself not to get frustrated at the poor man- he had no idea. Scared, lost, confused Castiel. 

“It’s just the pizza, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” you replied, giving him a soft smile of encouragement. 

With the pizza paid for, food on your plates, and your favorite mindless comfort show on TV, you and Cas began to settle in for the night. You and Cas. It was insane to see the angel in such a domestic setting. The two of you were sat at opposite ends of the couch, nibbling pizza in silent unison. You weren’t sure what to do or say, overwhelmed by Cas’s newfound presence, heartbroken by the things he had experienced, and overall just worried for his wellbeing. But, out of fear of pushing his limits- he had already been through so much the last few days- you fell into a comfortable silence that padded the space between you. 

That silence was broken by a yawn coming from the other end of the couch. Cas’s face contorted in a decidedly un-angelic expression, before drawing inwards in confusion. A giggle inched its way towards your lips, but you suppressed it.

“You must be tired, Cas. Let’s go up to bed,” you hummed. Quickly and efficiently, you snapped off the TV, balanced your drinking glasses and plates on top of the pizza box, and slid everything into its rightful place in the kitchen. Re-emerging to the living room, you extended a hand to Cas, pulling him up to his feet before turning to lead him up the stairs. 

“This is your room, over here,” you pointed, ducking in the door to show him around. You snapped the bedside lamp on to illuminate the space. “The bathroom is just down the hall if you need to use it. And my room is just next door, if you need anything at all.” 

Cas’s eyes scanned the room before settling back on you. He threw a tight-lipped smile, murmuring his thanks. He was bashful, certainly overwhelmed by the avalanche of human emotion and sensation he was experiencing. You really didn’t want to push it, but there was one more thing you wanted to offer him. 

Crossing the room, you pulled Cas into a hug. You felt his hands hover for a moment before he rested them across the middle of your back.

“I’m sorry, Cas. You didn’t deserve any of this. But I’m here to help you, whatever you need, okay? You deserve to have someone be there for you.” It was a desperate plea for the man to recognize his self-worth, to provide him with a bit of comfort during this terrifying transition. Your words weighed heavy in the room, anticipating a response that never came. But, you could’ve sworn you felt Cas’s shoulders dip and the muscles of his back soften into the hug. 

After a minute, you pulled away, snapping back to your lighthearted self. You wished the man a good night, retreating from the room and closing the door behind you. Crossing the hall and tucking yourself into bed, it wasn’t long before you drifted to sleep.

-

You rose early the next morning. Usually, you would stroll downstairs in your bathrobe or whatever mismatched pajamas you slept in, but this morning you hopped in the shower straight away, dressing and fixing your hair. Once you made your way down to the kitchen, you got to work pulling together a breakfast you thought Cas would enjoy- pancakes, bacon, and some fruit, all while brewing a pot of coffee. You weren’t sure he’d have much of a taste for it yet, but you certainly were in need of a cup. 

As you neared the end of your preparation, you heard the guest bedroom door swing open. Cas descended the stairs into the kitchen, somehow looking slightly more disheveled than when he had arrived on your doorstep the night before.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You offered, hoping he would take it in jest.

“Hello,” he responded. His eyes were puffed with sleep, his hair stuck up in every possible direction, face dotted with yesterday’s stubble that was inching into scruffy beard territory. Looking at him was a clear reminder that you needed to help him figure out how to clean himself up today. 

“How’d you sleep, hun?” In any other conversation, this would be a simple pleasantry, but in this case, it was an earnest inquiry.

“Not well. I think I had a dream. It was terrible,” he replied. His gaze remained vacant.

“A dream?” You thought for a moment- was it the sensation of dreaming that he wasn’t used to? Or was it a nightmare? “Tell me about it, Cas.”

“Well, I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember I was running. And when I woke up, my heart was pounding and I was sweating and I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t actually run- just in the dream.” 

“Oh, Cas, honey, you had a nightmare.” You approached him, reaching up a hand to run a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “If that ever happens again, you can always come into my room. I’m right next door.”

“How will that help?” He inquired.

“Well, sometimes it’s nice to talk about it, if you want. Or, sometimes it’s just nice to be around someone else, so you don’t feel like you’re facing it alone.”

His nod in response sent a surge of care through your body. Rather than sitting there, gushing over him, you figured you’d channel your worry into something productive- getting him fed. 

“Well, I made some breakfast. Have a seat, I’ll make you a plate.”

You pulled out a chair for him at the table, gesturing for him to sit down, before scrambling to pull together a plate piled high with a stack of pancakes, a few slices of bacon, and some strawberries and bananas you had carefully sliced. You rested the plate in front of him, giving him a minute to inspect it, before returning to grab food for yourself. 

“Well, what do you think? I figured chocolate chip pancakes would be a safe bet. Everyone likes chocolate chip pancakes.”

Castiel clumsily sliced another bite from the pancake, lifting it to his mouth. He chewed pensively, mulling over the question.

“How do I know if I like it?” 

You thought for a moment.

“Good question. Does it make you feel happy?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, Cas, I think you’ll find that one of the great joys of humanity is the opportunity to figure out what makes you happy. We don’t get a lot of say in what goes on down here, but we do get to pick our favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite people, and fill our lives with those. It’s the small pleasures that make the difference.”

He considered your words for a moment, before spearing another bite with his fork. You giggled to yourself. It was adorable to watch him navigate the things you took for granted with so much fascination and uncertainty- something as small as taking a bite of food required all of his concentration and contemplation.

As you sipped your coffee, you considered the task that lay before you. It was your job to teach Cas how to be human- something you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself an expert on. With hunting dominating your upbringing and occupation thus far, you certainly hadn’t had the normal human experience. But you took the challenge in stride, knowing that Cas had much to learn. 

-

Saturday had come and gone. You had spent the entire day teaching Cas a crash course in human life skills, covering important topics like brushing your teeth (which proved more difficult than you thought it would be), remembering to drink water (you struggled with this yourself most of the time), shopping (the two of you thrifted him a whole wardrobe), and anything else you could think of as you went about your usual routine. 

As the day wound down, you and Cas sat on your back porch. The emerging twilight buzzed, and a warm breeze filtered through the trees and wrapped itself around the two bodies curled up in the lawn chairs. You were tired, he was tired, so another comfortable silence had settled into its now familiar place between the two of you. You could faintly hear the sound of children laughing and a mother calling after them, voices muffled by the distance that separated you from these neighbors down the street. You smiled to yourself, and Cas took notice. 

“Thank you for helping me today,” he offered hesitantly, as if afraid to disturb your thoughts.

“Anytime, Cas.” You were still a bit lost in thought as you responded.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why does being human feel so… Heavy?”

There was something about his tone of voice that snapped you out of your daze. Turning to him, you instantly recognized the worry that was weighing on him. 

“I just… I used to be a soldier. I had divine purpose. I’ve always had something to work towards, and now… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Life is a complicated thing, Cas. Most people spend an entire lifetime figuring out their purpose. You may be thousands of years old, but you’ve only been doing the whole human thing for a few days. Be patient with yourself.” 

“You seem to handle it all pretty well. Leaving hunting, making a life for yourself. You have it all figured out,” he frowned.

“Want to know a secret?”

He nodded, silently, eagerly. 

“I’m not handling it well. And I don’t have it all figured out. Nobody does. That’s the whole game. That’s life. You take what you’re given and you do what you can with it. But the beauty is, you get to choose.” 

“How do I know what to choose?” 

You smiled in spite of yourself. 

“That’s the big question. No one knows what’s right for you except you.” 

Cas’s hand reached across to yours, giving it a squeeze that sent your heart aflutter. Fingers intertwined, you settled back into the evening, pensive.  

- 

Sleep that night hadn’t come easy by any means. What had started as worry had now spiraled into full-on anxiety, warding you away from slipping into sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind drifted down the hall to Castiel, separated from you by nothing more than a dozen footsteps and couple pieces of drywall. It was as if you could feel his inner turmoil. And beyond that, your heart ached for the man. All you wanted to do was go to him, be with him, comfort him. But the fear that you were taking advantage of his newly human state still plagued you, so you lingered rigid and sleepless in your bed. Just as you rolled over to attempt comfort and hopefully find some sleep, there was the faintest knock at your door- so quiet, you barely registered it. 

At first, you weren’t sure if you had actually heard the sound, but when the noise was followed by slow footsteps shuffling away, you snapped up in bed.  

“Cas! Come in,” you called. After a second, the door swung open.

“I had another one. A nightmare.” Cas spoke matter of factly, and yet, very soft and reserved. He lingered in your doorway, timid, waiting for you to give your blessing on his entrance.

“Oh, come in, sweetheart. Come sit.” You patted the space beside you, the noise muffled by the thick, fluffy comforter. Cas made his way into a seated position on the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, hesitant to pry but insistent on providing support.

“No.” His response was tense and succinct without being rude- you knew he was processing a lot of feelings, and wanted to give him grace.

“That’s okay. Would you like some time to think through it? Or would you like to be distracted?” 

“I’m not sure.”

“Take your time. I’m here.” 

There was a beat of silence. Giving him space was your top priority, as much as you wanted to leap across the bed and into his arms. 

“Maybe, distracted?”

“Sure thing. I’ll put on a movie, we can watch for a bit.” You snatched the remote from the table beside you, flipping through a few movies you thought Cas may enjoy, before settling on a lighthearted Disney movie. Your finger pressed play and adjusted the volume to a dull hum. 

You watched for a while in silence. As the movie was picking up, breaking out into a cheerful musical number, your eyes darted to Cas. Expecting to see him enamored by the animated wonderland, you were taken aback when his eyes locked with yours instantly. It was like he had been looking at you the whole time. 

“Hey, Cas.” He wouldn’t look away, and the eye contact was entrancing.

“Hi.” His voice was gruff, a mix of sleep and something else you weren’t entirely sure of, though you were starting to get an idea. 

“How are you doing?” 

“Better, now. Because I’m with you.” His words sent a wave of warmth through your body as you felt yourself inching closer to him, subconsciously. Clearly, he felt the same pull, as you both shifted to face each other directly. 

“Can I ask you about another feeling?” He was usually bashful with his questions, but this time, his voice was steady. His eyes were fixed on you with an almost palpable intensity, a kind of focus that made you fidget, suddenly so aware of yourself. 

“Of course,” you responded. He was now just inches away from your face. 

“What is this feeling I get when I’m this close to you?” His words were slow and genuine, and yet in some ways, it seemed like he already knew.

“What do you mean?” 

“It feels a lot like the nightmare. My heart beats fast and I can’t breathe. But it’s… Different. It’s good. I like it.” His eyes flickered as the words melted you.

He was so close to your face you could feel each breath tickle your nose and lips, as if pressing gentle precursors to tease you into taking the next step.

“Can I try something else you might like?” You could barely speak above a whisper.

He began to nod, lifting his head, but before he could complete the motion, all your defenses came crashing down, and you melted together- lips and limbs intertwining as one. And for the first time since becoming human, Castiel truly felt peace.

-

There’s something special about humanity. Sure, it has its ups and downs. There’s pain, fear, grief, death. Cas knew all those things already. They were what scared him most when he lost his grace. But he could have never known this, without experiencing it for himself. 

The early hours of the morning crept into the bedroom. Everything about the room was warm and soft- a kind of heaven that rivaled even the real thing. Cas watched as the rays of sun slipped through the window to kiss your skin softer, sweeter, more intimately than he ever had. Yet. 

There were many things about being human he hadn’t been prepared for. He had lost purpose, drive, direction. When he was first stripped of his grace, it had felt like his newfound heartbeat was mocking him with every pulse. But now? That heart served to pump more than just blood through his veins. His heart beat for you. His whole angelic life, he had been guided by divine word, but nothing had ever felt as holy as you, here, sleeping in his arms. You had taught him humanity, alright. And now, he finally had the chance to do something, to feel something, to experience something more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. He could love you.

Cas let the sounds of your breathing lull him back to sleep.

[jo-harrington]

Loving Eddie (Grim Reaper!Eddie x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Reaper!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Implied Character Death, Animal Death, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Note: I was in a mood tonight and had the sad playlist going as I read Loving Reaper so I wrote a little thing inspired by it. Definitely gonna shoot some recognition to @fairyysoup for forging the path with Death and the Maiden and @vintagehellfire who is an excellent writer regardless and has mentioned a future Reaper!Eddie story. And of course @chestylarouxx who wrote the softest puppy story and @somnambulic-thing for their edit.

I guess this is a little love letter to all of you guys. And just...a soothing little thing for me.

I know this isn't the point but...I'll be making a donation to Chicago Animal Care & Control for some fun little treats so the little babies know how loved they are before they find their forever homes.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Life and Death have been in love for longer than we've had words to describe...

Eddie knew what it was like to be alone in the world, with no one to love and no place to turn to.

It wasn't that long ago that he was left to wander, to pass unseen, unable to meet a soul that cared to know who or what he was.

First his body had been left in the Upside Down to rot, and then his spirit was left to wander the Earth to do the same.

It jaded him.

Turned him off people, who saw his disheveled spectral form but thought nothing of him. Not to stop or even give him a second glance.

But animals?

Animals flocked to him.

That was where he rediscovered his place in this endless mortal coil.

He'd always considered himself an animal lover, feeding the stray cats and the raccoons that wandered around Forest Hills. Giving extra pets to Mr. Ford's dog that got left outside a little too often.

Even in Death, the birds ruffled their feathers and sung a little louder for him. A butterfly had no fear to land on his fingers and kiss them with their wings as they became bony and unfamiliar.

And the first time he came across a poor little soul that had been left, tethered to a stake, on the side of the road...he knew what his path would be.

He sad beside them and ran his hand overhear head, giving it companionship for the last time...

Maybe I was a bad dog?

No, you just loved bad people. You were a good boy.

...and when it was time to get up, they followed him for as long as they could, until they disappeared into starlight, feeling love for one last time.

It happened again and again.

Cats and birds and fish.

And he didn't know where they went when they crossed into starlight, but he took comfort that he was the one to ferry them there.

To show them the softness in death that they lacked in life.

One day...it wasn't an animal that earned his softness.

It was a human.

It was you.

He was softly petting a rabbit who had dreamed of a lush field of greens, and had only known a cage, promising them flowers and the blue skies and an endless spring when you'd shown up.

Determined.

Your hand went through his as you scooped the little creature up.

"I'm sorry Bunny," you whispered gentle. "Lets get you someplace nice."

He watched your retreating form resentfully. Not because you'd taken his charge away...but because you must have been just like the others. His natural resentment for everything human now.

He followed, of course, and watched as you nursed Bunny back to health. As you called around to friends and family to see who could take them. As you told your neighbor off for buying a rabbit on Easter in the first place if they had no intention of caring for it.

"Susie told me you'd brought it out to the woods. Bunny was dying. What did you even feed it?"

His anger dissipated, just the slightest bit. But he still distrusted you.

No matter. Bunny survived, and had the endless spring they deserved.

And Eddie could forget you.

But he couldn't. Because you showed up again and again, in his path. Stole his purpose from him.

Why he hung around, he wasn't entirely sure.

It's not like he needed to validate your sincerity. You'd stopped your car for enough ducks and bottle fed enough chipmunks for him to know that his little buddies were safe with you.

He could have moved on, soothed the abandoned souls and led them to starlight elsewhere.

He simply felt tethered to you.

Life sends countless gifts to Death...

You had even seen him one day.

You'd stumbled coming down the some steps as you shopped around town, a sudden and unexpected imbalance, and he grabbed you on instinct.

Eddie expected...well he didn't know what he expected. But it wasn't your hand coming to grip his. It wasn't your soft, relieved breath filling his hollow cheeks with life again. It wasn't the sparkle of your eyes meeting his as you thanked him.

"God I don't know what's wrong with me," you laughed. "Sorry...sorry. I didn't mean to just fall on you like that."

"It's alright," he replied with a voice gone raspy from lack of use. "People fall for me all the time."

The smoothness of his response was unexpected too.

You talked for a few minutes.

You always came this way; did he? Was he new in Hawkins? Did he try that coffee place on Main? Anyway, it was nice to meet him. You'd see him around.

He was dumbfounded.

Because you saw him.

You talked to him, touched him.

Showed him the humanity that he'd been lacking--secretly yearning for deep down--for decades. The kind that he had begun to believe didn't exist anymore.

And as you walked away, and as everyone ignored him, he decided he didn't want anything to do with it.

The time had come and gone. Eddie Munson had come and gone. The starlight, the softness, was his new purpose now.

Death was his new name.

He did his best to avoid you, but when had what he wanted ever come to fruition. The more he tried not to see you, the more you saw him.

A bird had fallen from the nest in your neighbor's yard, and you saw him as he carried their soul away, wings too small to fly yet.

You waved hello to him as you hobbled up the sidewalk, after you'd sprained something on your lunchtime walk.

He told another little friend at the animal shelter that their suffering was over, that the hands and feet that never stopped for them were silly and stupid. He would take them to the park for one last game of fetch.

And you were there for a work picnic, the sight of him being the only thing that had put any light in your eyes all day, tired and sunken as they were.

You'd really put your all into planning the picnic, you told him.

He couldn't care one bit.

All he saw was someone who tried too much, gave too much--to people and things--and he simply...despised it. Because those little things you did to give, also took.

They took from him.

He tried one last time to escape you.

Went to the beach.

Walked long and fast and far on untiring feet until his skeletal toes that had long-since ripped through the caps of his sneakers touched the lapping waves of Lake Michigan.

It was a wasteland, and exactly where he belonged. Exactly where he could give some softness. He was right where he needed to be.

The gulls looked for food and only found trash.

Choked on cigarette butts and straw wrappers.

He could sooth them, nourish them, lead them to oblivion.

When he was 12...his uncle had taken him to the beach and he'd witnessed two of the dastardly birds fighting over a piece of fried chicken.

He wished he could see that now.

And not you, sitting on a blanket reading, bundled up in a pullover and sweatpants that dwarfed you.

Funny he could have sworn he'd seen you in those during one of your first encounters. They fit fine then.

It wasn't a particularly cold day...but cold enough where there weren't that many people on the beach so it was easy for you to spot one another.

"Oh hey stranger," you called out to him with a weak wave. "How is it that we keep running into each other? Even 3 hours away at the lake?"

He couldn't help but approach you, maybe save you some embarrassment from the few other stragglers noticing you were talking to yourself on an empty beach.

"Must be fate," he commented bitterly.

"Hmm," you shrugged and looked back at your book.

Eddie sad beside you, uncaring if he was on the sand or not. He couldn't feel the grains between his bones. There was no discomfort anymore.

He considered that for a moment, his appearance. He was sure he was just...a skeleton in some ratty clothes now. But you never batted an eye at him.

Why did he care?

Curiosity. That was all.

"You never seem shocked to see me," he commented after a beat.

"Why should I be?" you asked. "We live in the same town right? This...I mean I wasn't expecting you to be here."

"No, I mean...how I look," he clarified.

"You're like...a metalhead right?" you asked and placed your book down. You hugged your knees to your chest and then reached out to poke a patch on his vest that, to him, was just a tangle of threads now. "Just a little dated. Ok, ok...a classic...forgive me. Metallica is a classic."

"Of course it's a classic. It's Metallica," he scoffed and rolled his eyes. You smiled at him serenely and he felt his ribcage bloat with something.

Joy. Fondness? Maybe you weren't that bad.

He'd just hardened his heart for so long.

"Where'd you even find that? Do you go to the Five Star Flea Market on Highway 69?"

"Never been."

"Garage sales then? I just had..." you yawned. "I just had a garage sale last weekend. Got rid of a lot of junk. I don't need it."

"One persons trash is another's treasure." His uncle always said that when they brought some chipped old mug home.

Where were those mugs now? He wondered.

He told you about them, told you about the Garfield one he got for Wayne for Father's Day one time.

"He hated it but refused to drink coffee from anything else," he told you proudly.

"I have these Campbells soup mugs," you contemplated. "You can have them if you want. One for you, one for your uncle."

"Oh uh..." How could he tell you that both he and Wayne were dead? He couldn't. "That's ok."

"I don't think you like me that much, Eddie," you announced after some time.

You'd wheedled his name out of him at some point.

The shame burned, replaced the fondness he'd realized was there.

"Why do you say that?"

"Just a feeling."

"I wouldn't be here with you if I didn't like you," he said confidently, truthfully. He allowed himself to be soft with you, for the first time, tone so different from what I had been before.

"We friends then?" you asked.

"Yeah...friends."

You both smiled, renewed by the agreement.

You were funny and kind and you got his humor and even recognized his favorite band. 30 years after the fact.

Metallica was a classic though. He'd wouldn't have offered his friendship if you didn't know them.

But yeah, you could be friends, maybe more if you had the time and the means...if you were gonna keep showing up in his life.

In his Death.

Eddie pushed himself to his feet and then held his hand out to you.

You didn't hesitate to grab it.

You felt a lot lighter as he pulled you up, floating almost.

And the two of you started walking, walking, walking...until the night came...until the darkness came.

The starlight.

And for the first time, Eddie didn't have to lose the softness of a new friend to the starlight. You were able to stay for him for a long time, hand entwined with his.

Into eternity.

...And death keeps them forever.

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Six

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4511

Warnings: 18+ Blog; mentions of food and drinks, unwanted touching, self doubt, pining, two dumb dumbs navigating fEeLiNgS, reader has a nickname but has zero descriptive features, fluff, like always please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

A/N: This chapter!! I think it’s just been a week for me, dealing with minimal sleep and a teething babe— I was near giving up on it. But, it’s done! Wrote out a good portion of it and then hated it so I rewrote it and then ending up going in a completely different direction— but I like where it ended up going. Thanks again for all the love and kind words on this series!! Only 4 more chapters to go!! Adding: Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for beta’ing this labor of love and all her support and help as I write this!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

An endless loop of vivid thoughts frequent your weary mind— starting early in the morning and well into the evening. 

Dieter, his stupid handsome face and the way he has you falling for him, your brain in a constant flustered state. 

You keep mulling over the possibilities of allowing yourself to be vulnerable, open to the idea of something growing between you and Dieter. 

Each alternative has its advantages and risks. 

Leaning into your feelings and granting Dieter access to the thing you’ve spent years guarding, trusting that he will stand alongside you as you fully open your heart to a chance at a future together. 

But what if he doesn’t want the same things as you?? You contemplate if settling for just his friendship is enough, never pursuing the growing connection between you, accepting him in your life but always at an arm's length. 

Dieter’s impending departure has you a mess, your growing feelings for him only making it worse. 

“Are you still there sweetheart?” 

“Yeah— Sorry Mom, I’m still here.” You assured her, finishing up the rest of your makeup as you get yourself ready for the Capri Hotel’s big event. 

“You sound so far away. What’s bothering you?” 

“Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin Mom. None of it’s really all that bad, just a lot at once I guess.”

“Well, I’m here to listen if you need to get it off your chest.” 

Moments like these, you wished she lived closer, missing your kitchen conversations at the end of a long day. No matter how depleted she was after work, she made dinner with a smile and sat for as long as you needed her to, her shoulders always carrying the weight of your heart when needed. 

“Just trying to keep it together most days. School has been busy, end of year things have me drained. Then there’s the whole gallery thing, it has me stressed I won’t be ready for the showing. I’ve finally managed to get a chunk of my pieces painted and prepped— I have like 5 more to do. And I’m sad it’s closing, I only have a few classes left there.” You pause for a moment, you hadn’t intended on an emotional dump when you called your Mom, just wanted to check in and say hello. “It’s all good things though, so I don’t even know why it feels overwhelming, I guess I feel like I’m going to let someone down somewhere along the way.”

“Hmm. Well, I know how hard you are on yourself, but I also know how hard you work— especially when it involves all the things you love. You’re going to get through it all! I believe in you.”

Her voice feels like a warm embrace as it drifts through your phone, the stress already feeling like it has lifted a bit with her reassurance. 

“So, how are things with your guy? Any new things on that front?”

“Well, he’s not my guy.” Chuckling at her abruptness. “I feel like we’re in a good place now— he feels like a close friend that I’ve known my whole life. And the more time we spend together, the more I—“

“The more you what?”

“I don’t even know, Mom. Like there’s these things he does, I don’t know if he’s just being nice or what, but he does these little things that make me so happy. He brings me coffee in the mornings when he drops his niece off at school, leaves little notes for me on the cups— I save them Mom, I have a stack of these coffee cups in my kitchen.”

You hear a muffled hum, her signal that she’s already preparing her response to what you have to share, but allowing you to continue. 

“He came to one of my classes, and you know what he did? He painted a portrait of me— who does that?! And now, we text each other all the time and I can’t stop smiling when his name pops up on my phone, because I can’t stop thinking of him. Then he gave me this cute nickname that makes my insides turn to goo any time he says it and I— I…”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah— I do.”

*

The air is dry, heat waves dancing across the scorching cement, an array of popular songs blaring from the DJ booth situated on the green lawn adjacent to the hotel’s pool deck. 

The re-grand opening celebration of The Capri in full effect. 

The hotel had been drawing in plenty of guests after the renovation, rooms booked out regularly, a quintessential tourist destination for the small town. Its mid-century design of wood, natural tones and pops of color paired with the sleek modern aesthetic throughout the hotel’s property was beginning to be recognized by many publications, all looking to showcase the hotel’s unique style in upcoming pieces. 

The hotel’s name, big white block letter signage, sits atop the covered entryway. A parked yellow Chevy Deluxe adds to the ambiance of the building’s timeless look. 

Giant palm trees and tropical-esque plants in terracotta pots decorate the grounds of the hotel. Small gardens with intimate seating had been strategically placed for optimal usage. A large lawn space in the back was draped in string lighting and had the perfect view of daily sunsets. The pool itself was a perfect backdrop for a day of relaxing, vintage woven lawn chairs and oversized umbrellas lined each side of the large pool surrounded by lush greenery. 

Dieter was able to snag a chair early on, perks of knowing the hotel owner, the umbrella shade blocking enough of the sun to make the extremely warm weather bearable. 

He’s trying his best to enjoy himself, knowing he’s doing Diem a favor keeping an eye on Wren while she’s running around doing her hotel-party hostess duties, but the growing crowd of guests and invitees feel more overwhelming, reminding him of the elaborate Hollywood parties he’s attended. 

Only a few people have stopped to ask for autographs or pictures, slightly surprised there’s still a fan base that has an interest in him these days. 

“How come they don’t want me to sign their papers? I know how to write my name too!” Wren, her voice tinged with a pouty tone, says from where she’s lounging on her chair next to him. 

“I don’t know, Birdie. Next time, you can sign your name too, seems only fair.”

“Okay. I can draw a heart for them too.”

Wren, satisfied with the compromise, goes back to sipping on her iced lemonade and watching one of her shows on her iPad, zero interest in what's going on around her. 

“How’s she doing?” Diem asks as she sits on the edge of the Wren’s chair, placing another lemonade on the small accent table between the two of them. 

“She’s good, wanted to take a break from swimming for a bit. You, umm— hear from Poppy yet?” 

“Why? You finally going to tell her you’ve got it bad for her??” 

Grateful his sunglasses are dark enough to block the eye roll intended for Diem, he glances over to see Wren still absorbed into her show then back to Diem and whispering a low -fuck off- accompanied with a playful middle finger. 

“She texted me a bit ago, said she was running late, but would be here soon— Oh! Speak of the devil, look who just arrived. I’m going to go say hi and I’ll send her over so you can tell her how much you’ve missed her.” Diem’s menacing voice earns her another middle finger from Dieter, leaving him to greet you properly. 

Dieter catches sight of you weaving through the pack of bodies meandering around the pool, taking in how your face lights up the minute you see Diem welcoming you with a hug, both of you embracing each other as if you hadn'tnd just hung out days prior. 

He’s seen you in your casual clothes outside of school before. Usually a pair of favorite jeans and t-shirt, a sundress sprinkled in on warmer days, but something about seeing you in a bathing suit and shorts has his brain short-circuiting almost instantly. 

Tilting his head forward, his pointer finger pulling his sunglasses slowly down the bridge of his nose. He’s completely taken aback, mesmerized by you, noting every little detail—  your captivating features that make him absolutely weak, every delicate curve so perfectly placed, each flaw you try so hard to hide merely a perfect addition to your allurement. 

The second you and Diem turn in his direction, he’s shaken out of his trance, trying to focus on anything to make his blatant staring seem less obvious. 

“I see an open chair next to Dieter, do you think he’ll mind if I hang out with them?” You point to the open space next Dieter, who is helping Wren navigate something on her iPad. 

Unfortunately, as you say it, you notice a beautiful woman sitting in the lounger you were inquiring about. You try your best to keep the tinge of jealousy concealed, the last thing you want is to draw any sort of attention to your feelings for Dieter at this time. 

“Never mind, I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to set my stuff.” There’s a subtle hint of sadness in your eyes, avoiding watching the women openly flirt with him. 

“Babe, you good?” Diem sensing the shift in your demeanor instantly. Peering back at Dieter to see the interaction he’s having with the woman, who now has her hand on his arm, caressing it as she tilts her head and openly ogles him— her fake laugh is a dead give away that she only sees Dieter for his Star Status and nothing more. 

“Yeah— y-yeah, I’m good.” Forcing a somewhat convincing smile. 

“Hey, I’ve got to go check on catering, make sure everything is running on time and then I’m going to grab Wren for her nap— the last thing I need is a 6 year old meltdown. Don’t worry about her, she doesn’t really seem like his type anyways. We’ll catch up in a bit.” Giving you another hug, letting it linger for a minute, then Diem takes off in the direction of the catering truck. 

You’re left standing there, feeling exposed and alone among a sea of strangers. Nervously scanning anywhere but in the direction of where Dieter and the woman are clearly flirting. You contemplate what an appropriate amount of time to spend here would be, before slipping out unnoticed. 

It reminds of you showing up to a middle school dance, dressed in the new fancy dress you picked out for the special occasion in hopes of seeing the cute boy, who’s name you spent most of the school year scribbling in your notebooks. Only to walk into the dimly lit and poorly decorated gymnasium to see he is with the head cheerleader and they’re both making heart eyes at each in the middle of the dance floor. 

Part of you wants to shrink into the shadows of the crowd, ruminate over the signals you read completely wrong this whole time. Dieter was just being nice, friendly— at no fault of his. You blame yourself for thinking he might have some interest in you, reading into the little details and thinking that you were even his type— clearly far from it. 

An up tempo song blasts through the speakers, amping the tone of the party up and pulling you out of your brief moment of sulking. 

Friends. Just friends. Dieter and you are friends and that has to be enough for you. 

You head in the direction of the open bar, hoping an ice cold beverage will help unburden your angsty thoughts. 

“We should hang out sometime!” Dieter cringes at the advances this random woman keeps making towards him. 

If this wasn’t his sisters hotel, he’d probably wouldn’t feel bad in being harsh and telling this woman to fuck right off. But he doesn’t want to cause a scene, not knowing how she would react to his rejection. 

“Umm, I don’t know— I’ve got a lot going on right now.” Let her down easy. 

“Oh come on! You’re not doing anything, you just got out of rehab— and they’ve got you trapped in this boring town too. I’m sure we could find something fun to do together. I know a few parties are happening in WeHo coming up, I can make a few calls— get some treats to liven things up.” Her hand still fondling his arm. 

He winces at her crass comment, a reminder of why he chose to escape the acrimonious world of Hollywood. 

He doesn’t have a single regret about being here in Ojai either, he enjoys its simplicity and is starting to feel like he could see himself here long term. 

“Look, I’m sure you're nice and all— but I’m not interested.” 

“Okay, well we can do something else then. How about we go back to my room, I’m staying here.” Wiggling her hotel key between her fingers. 

She’s clearly not grasping at the obvious hint Dieter is giving her. 

“No, I’m not interested in your room or you.” He says politely, grabbing her hand and removing it from his arm. 

“What do you mean?!”

“He has a girlfriend, lady!” Wren piped up in Dieter’s defense. 

“Wait! You have a kid? And a girlfriend?”

“No— to both things.” 

“God, rehab made you so fucking boring.” She scoffed, offended by his sobriety and his lack of interest in her. 

“Okay, so what we’re not going to do is that, my niece is right here. You can go now.” 

She didn’t hesitate at his request, grabbing her things and walking away— pretending to be unbothered by the rejection. 

“Sorry about that Birdie. Some people are just—“

“Weird!”

“Yeah, weird. Hey, Birdie?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you think Poppy is— she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends. So, let’s maybe not call her that anymore okay?” Although, he likes the way the two words mix together in the same sentence. 

He worries it’s going to slip in your presence, he knows wren means no harm by it, but he would hate for you to feel uncomfortable if you ever were to hear her say it. 

“Mhmm.” Her non-committal response earns her a laugh, fully focused on her show like nothing ever happened. 

Dieter takes in the lively atmosphere around him. Laughter emanating from the party guests gathered in small groups around the pool, a carefree crowd dancing throughout the lawn area, smiles plastered on everyone’s faces— he couldn’t be more proud of Diem and all she has accomplished. 

Readjusting the collar of his colorful half buttoned shirt, Dieter settles back into the chair, letting the sun kiss every bit of his exposed skin. 

“How are things going over here?” Diem quietly asked, pulling Dieter from his ruminative thoughts. 

Diem scoots Wren’s listless legs over to allow room for her to sit down, leaning over she grabs the device from her tiny sleepy hands, Wren’s little head nodding as she struggles to keep her drowsy eyes open. 

“No complaints, looks like you had a good turnout. I’m really proud of you Diem, not just all of this,” His hand pointing around to her accomplishments on display in the form of a successfully running hotel and her well executed re-grand opening festivities. “But with Wren too. I’m glad that I got this chance to be with you both.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me—“ Her voice wobbly and soft as she beams at his acknowledgment of her dedication to her work and Wren. “Thank you. And I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without your help.”

Dieter nods, mirroring her heartfelt gratitude. 

“Have you seen Poppy? I saw you both talking earlier.” He hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate, wanting to know your whereabouts, if you’re okay and why you’re not here— with him. 

“She didn’t make it over?” His brows draw together, shaking his head slightly. Her nose wrinkled at the realization of why you hadn’t come over. 

“What?” 

“She saw you and your— little friend earlier, I don’t know for sure, but she seemed somewhat saddened by it. I’m surprised she didn’t come over though.” 

“Shit! I gotta go. You good with her.” He stands abruptly, an unnerving feeling creeping up from his chest, hoping you didn’t mistake what you saw for anything but an awkward fan interaction. 

“Yeah, go. I’m going to go put her down in my office.” Scooping up Wren’s sleeping frame. “Dieter?” 

He turns back to her calling his name, hands flexing at his side, a nervous tick of his, as he waits for what Diem has to add. 

“You should tell her.” 

He’s not sure why it’s so difficult to find someone in a somewhat enclosed area. His eyes scanning every ecstatic face as he sidesteps through conversations anchored in effervescent exuberance, a stark contrast from his growing collection of spiraling thoughts. 

If he could just find you, explain the situation to you in its entirety. 

Explain how he truly feels. 

How you'rer his first thought when he wakes in the morning, the giddy anticipation of seeing how beholden you are as he hands you the coffee he picks up from the bakery Wren and him stop at before school, how he takes in the way you tilt your head just enough to read the ridiculous notes he scribbles on the sides of each cup, “Have a Brewtiful Day!” “Better latte than never.”—each one extracting the most intoxicating laugh. 

How he looks forward to seeing your face light up at his stupid jokes, never once admitting how horrible you think they are. 

How you’re an added reason for him to want to be sober, never wanting to be on the receiving end of your disappointment in him. He wants that rewarding experience of seeing how proud you are of him. 

And how he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms— morning, noon and night, keeping you as close as he possibly can, terrified that you’ll disappear the moment he lets you go. 

His world seems to come to a standstill, everything he had been working up the courage to tell you, drained from his mind instantly. 

Utterly shattered by the sight of you. 

That smile of yours, paired with a full body laugh, directed at the man standing next to you. Your hand holding the top of his oversized bulging bicep as his large hand gently cups your elbow, leaning into each other as you both exchange words. 

A reality he hadn’t even considered in the time he spent looking for you— you being happy with someone who isn’t him. 

Crushed. 

Confused. 

Broken. 

It’s a dizzying sensation. A chance lost— or so he thinks. 

Rubbing his hands against his shorts, removing the evidence of his anxious response to seeing you wrapped up in what looked like an intimate conversation, his head still in a fogged state of shock. 

He manages to will his body to move from where he’s been standing. His jaw ticks anxiously, surrounded by bodies dancing around his blurry peripherals. Releasing a deep sigh, he looks back to you once more, looking for what he hopes is closure. 

Instead, he catches the moment the man you’d been friendly with, gesturing a goodbye as he retreats from the space he’d been sharing with you. 

Dieter watches the way your expression morphs from bright and bubbly to soft and muted the minute you're alone, leaning against the cocktail table with your face tucked into your shoulder, closing yourself off from everything and everyone. 

“Mind if I join you?” Dieter calmly approaches you, still holding on to the single thread of hope that he didn’t lose his chance. 

“Hey! Of course you can.” Your face instantly lights up at the sight of him, patting the open spot on the table, genuinely welcoming him to be with you. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 

“What do you mean?” A line appears between your brows, shifting your body to fully face him with one arm still draped over the table top, your fingers casually drawing shapes onto the silky thin table cloth. 

“The guy, I saw you talking to him— looks like he works out, a lot— the man is very hot.” Words fumbling out of his mouth, as he points back in the direction he thinks he saw the muscular guy head in. “I just mean, I don’t want to interrupt if there’s something potentially happening there.”

Your lips pressed together in an attempt to fight off the urge to laugh. 

“What?”

“There was nothing happening there, like at all. That was Dan, he’s a good friend and he comes to classes at the gallery. I’d offer to introduce you two, since you think he’s so hot, but he just got back from his honeymoon— with his equally hot husband. We were just catching up.” 

Dieter winces at your explanation of who the man was, feeling like an idiot for so foolishly assuming you were falling for the guy. 

“Besides, he’s not really my type.” You state boldly with your head cocked to the side, one eye squinting to block the sun rays as you take stock of the way the sunlight tangles in his hair. 

“Where’s your friend from earlier? She was really pretty. You both really seem to be hitting it off earlier.” Keeping your tone neutral, looking down at where your fingers are now pulling at a loose thread on the tablecloth, preparing yourself for how his response is definitely going to wreck you. 

His hand settles next to yours, his fingers nervously tapping onto the hard surface. 

“Actually, I have no clue who she was— didn’t even ask for her name, didn’t want to know it either. Sure, she was pretty and maybe in different circumstances I might have been interested in her… She was pissed though when I turned her down, I actually had to tell her to leave.”

“Really— Why?” Your attention drawn back up to where he’s still studying you, his brown eyes locked with yours, now etched in a glistening golden light from the setting sun. 

He lifted his shoulders in a gentle shrug, taking a deep breath as he looked at you, “She just isn’t who I’m interested in.” 

When you think back to when you were growing up, constantly daydreaming about what it would feel like the moment you realized you were in love, and if it would feel as good to have that same feeling reciprocated back to you, by someone who wholeheartedly felt the same way. 

You decide that this is that moment, and it’s even better than you imagined it would be. 

Dieter’s eyes drift over to the table, his hand slowly inching closer to yours, the light brush of his fingers over the top of your hand is electric, your breath catching as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours. 

His thumb, tender as it slowly smooths over the ridges of your hand, glancing back to you to make sure that there’s no sign of discomfort in your face— you squeeze your fingers, a silent ‘I’m more than okay with this’. 

A breeze picks up, his hair tousling around as it blows through where you both are standing. You lift your free hand to swipe the hanging curls out of his face, your fingers taking liberty to rake through his downy hair, each curl bouncing back into place. 

“What’s your type then?” It’s menacing the way his husky voice cuts through the steady silence, encouraging you to share with him. 

“Hmm…Tall, funny, sweet, driven, pretty— like really fucking pretty. Also has to answer to Uncle Dude in the presence of a sweet little 6 year old. Know of anyone who might fit that description?”

He nods along as you list off each quality, his eyes lighting up at mentioning good-looking. 

“That’s quite the list.” He quips, your breathy laugh prompting a lopsided grin from him. “So— pretty, huh?”

“Yeah— really fucking pretty.” Your words are drawn out in a sincere manner, noting the way his eyes crinkle a little at the compliment. 

Dieter’s hand nestles at the base of your neck, drawing your body closer to him. His touch potent and satisfying, as he commits to memory the way your skin feels beneath his fingertips, gliding them down your bare spine leaving goosebumps in their wake— his gaze never leaving yours. 

“You’re interested in someone?” The answer seems obvious, but you want to hear it from him. 

“Poppy, you gotta know it’s you—“ He utters earnestly with both of his hands now cupping your cheeks, watching the way your lips part as he leans in closer. “I lo— like you so fucking much Poppy, you’re the only one I’m interested in.”

The way he started to say that he loves you, it feels like you might float away, anchoring your hands on his wrists. Everything tingles in your stomach, he’s so close, his breath fanning over your lips. Your lashes flutter as he slowly angles your face, his nose brushing against yours. 

It’s a whirlwind of energy drifting between both of you, building intensity with each passing second, the finality of the moment bound to be explosive. 

Tiny hairs of his mustache grazing the underside of your nose. The top of his lip begins to settle over yours, it’s pillowy weight slowly meeting your—

*RING RING RING*

“Fuck!” The word vibrates across your upper lip at the vexing sound of Dieter’s phone ringing, offensively interrupting the flow of your almost kiss and urging him to answer it. 

“I swear, if that’s Diem—“ A picture of Diem and Wren lights up the phone screen, his thumb swiping across to accept the call, he stands to his full height as he presses the device to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?… Okay… Yeah…Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute then… Love you too, bye.” Dieter ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket. 

The entire phone conversation, his focus remains on you. His free hand never leaves the side of your face, thumb stoking across the warmed apple of your cheek—Your hand still holding on to him, the cadence of his heart-rate is rapid against your palm. 

“Diem?” 

“Yeah, she said Wren wanted to go home. She has to stay for another hour or two, make sure things close out here before she can head home.” He explains, zero annoyance detected in his face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m perfect.” You say  softly, an airy smile spreading across your face. “What do we do now?”

Dieter takes in your question, so many answers floating around in his mind, but none of them feel sufficient enough at this moment, wanting to properly share everything he’s been feeling without being rushed or interrupted. 

He leans back into your space, his lips pressing a chaste kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours. 

“We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Next

[aeferkssr]

established relationship, fluffyyy, 608 wrds

xiao has always been very aloof, his resting bitch face of full display for everyone to see. he keeps to himself and is seldom seen with other people. his behaviour may seem to be self-centered to some, hence why people tend to avoid him. others may admire these traits but admire him from a distance since they fear that he is too good for them. but even then, people seem to be approaching him more and trying to get friendly with him. xiao was very aware of his distant nature and was confused about the sudden attention. little did he realise, that love tends to change one’s lifestyle. after realising this, he started to think about how exactly he carries himself:

— he starts putting more thought into his appearance. xiao never really cared about other’s opinions about him, they were allowed to think what they wanted after all. but when you two got together, her started to think more and more about what he wore. his usual black hoodie and sweats started to seem too laid back for you. on dates he dresses more consciously depending on where your going: something with a lighter colour for picnics, darker colours pick up heat more, something more dressy for dinner dates, and the like. he even devides to sport a tanktop while at home just to feel your lingering stares on his laid back appearance.

— his music genre changes. originally, he listened to anything with a good beat regardless of the genre. his main spotify playlist was 8 hours long with songs that ranged from cutesy jpop songs to hard metal. if anyone ever asked, he would just say that the beat is nice. but now, he finds himself listeneing to sings that remind him of you. either he listens to his secret playlist that he would rather die than have you find out about (a four hour playlist named ‘my joy, [ name ]’) or your spotify blend. whether he listens to music more than you or not, your accounts are linked by a duo plan. a small commitment before he is ready to make an even bigger one.

— he keeps better track of the time. it has been 7 hours and 47 minutes since the tattoo parlour has opened, one more hour until closing. the ride home will take 15 minutes, 20 is he has to weave his motorcycle through the 5 o’clock traffic. since todays a tuesday, you come home from school/work at around 6:20pm. before you get home, he likes to cook dinner and prepare your breakfast and lunch for the next day. its his week to do the laundry too, since you weren’t feeling so well last week he will have an early start on it while you eat. what should he cook when he comes home? he knows that you really like his fried rice so maybe he sho— his thoughts get interrupted by his boss, who is curious to know why he’s glaring at the clock like that.

— he's become more *ahem* needy. hold on, not that kind of needy. its more like the 'you need to be with me at every waking hour every single day or else i will explode' kind of needy. hes addicted to your affection, the way you call his name with pire adoration and love makes his stomach fill eith an endless amount of butterflies, the lingering touches and gazes you make adorn his face with an endearing red colour. he doesn’t want to be with you, he needs to be with you. and, oh, is he so glad that he is yours.

© aeferkssr

[undiscovered-horizon]

Can I request a part 2 of guilded cage please it’s really good also I’m a slut for dark!morpheus

Like they got officially married she’s queen and maybe corinthian or one of his siblings go to her and there like wtf sis you ok with this and Morpheus Is eavesdropping because he wants her honest answer and she has excepted her role and he’s like that’s my girl

A/N: Just a PSA - this is comparably worse than Gilded Cage, whatever demon possessed me back then has taken a sabbatical.

"Silvered Perch" - Dark!Morpheus x Reader

['Gilded Cage'] | [MASTERLIST] | [Sandman-inspired playlist]

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.4k

What a strange thought it was, that your life was not always like this: drowning in jewels, silk, delicacies which names you couldn't pronounce, wonderful creatures bowing low each time they saw you and most of all - an entity the strangest of them all who wanted to bend over backwards to keep you happy. Would it be a little too on the nose to say it felt like a dream?

Morpheus made sure to keep the word he had given you, so not too long after you settled down in Dreaming the news of a wedding spread across the realm. Although none of his subjects had the faintest clue as to who you were, they seemed to put trust in the integrity of their king and welcomed you more than warmly. To them, it seemed quite obvious that whoever is worthy of being the bride of Dream of the Endless, had to be at least a little bit exceptional - an expectation you weren’t sure you could ever fulfil.

You didn't feel at home in Dreaming, not right away: your life only became stranger as you were suddenly showered with gifts and honours you doubted you deserved in any way. It felt wrong to accept those riches - after all, you had done exactly nothing to earn such honours. What if one day every creature of Dreaming realizes it? What if he does? You had fooled him so far but how could you be sure this lark could go on? Like every good thing in your life, this spell, too, had to disperse someday. You were nothing more than a leech on his charity.

"There is something on your mind," Morpheus caught you off guard once. Apparently, there was nothing that could escape his stern gaze - especially if the said thing was connected to you. You could only wonder how much he had learned about you just through his silent observation.

"I don't know if I deserve any of... this." You made a vague circle with your hand. It was a nice euphemism on your part - ‘good life’ couldn’t quite move past your lips.

"No," he answered in a decisive tone but before the painful hole in your chest could open once again, the very hole this unjust world scratched inside you, he continued, "You deserve a lot more. More than I am able to give you."

A sad smile entered your face. To some degree, you pitied his delusional perception of you but your selfishness forced you to lick every last drop of it. "You're a real sweet-talker, you know?"

Morpheus’s hand gently held yours. Without letting his gaze fall from your face, he placed a warm kiss on your fingers, right next to the magnificent yet bizarre ring he had given you on your wedding day - ‘a testimony of my love’ he called it. ”There is nothing sweet about truth. It simply is."

“I find it hard to believe in that truth,” you answered quietly. 

“Truth remains despite beliefs.” He presses another kiss to your fingers before letting his lips leave a trail of pecks along your skin down to your wrist. “There is no price I would not pay to let you see yourself through my eyes even once.” Perhaps that was better for the soul - should you become privy to Morpheus’s perception of you, there’d be no more modesty left in you, no innate obligation to remain humble; oceans, volcanos, supernovas… were they not all terrible, beautiful and prideful? And yet even they dimmed in the halo of your sacrilegious wonder.

Due to Morpheus’s explicit prohibition, you couldn’t leave the castle grounds without him - he only cared and wanted to make sure that no malice lurking in the hearts of his subject would raise its hand against you. Considering how passionate he was about that one rule, you never even questioned it, simply gloating in the indirect confession of his affections and how much they tormented his every thought.

But who were you to defy your husband’s (reminding yourself of that rightful title made a flustered blush appear on your cheeks) orders? Waiting for him to finish his royal duties, you wandered through the palace. Despite seeing those marble walls and crystal chandeliers every day, they still managed to take your breath away. It was a view no one back in the Waking World could ever imagine, and now it was your very own secret and your home. An infantile giggle escaped your lips - ‘a queen in a castle’. How ridiculous and wonderful.

An unexpected fluttering of wings diverted your attention from admiring the halls of the chateau. To your surprise, Matthew had decided to pay you a visit - rarely did he engage in friendly chatter with you and you never quite understood whether it was due to a lack of common interests or a lack of his interest in particular. His black feathers shone in the dispersed sunlight coming through the tall stained-glass windows. There was something equally malevolent and dignified about the way he looked.

"Not following Morpheus around?" you asked him humorously.

Without answering, Matthew hopped closer to you, his beady eyes watched you carefully. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the strange inquiry. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean this whole situation is just a little... weird, isn't it?” his voice remained low, somewhat anxious of suspected prying ears. Little did he know, his fear wasn’t unreasonable. “Dream shows up and, no offence, you throw yourself at him after he made a ludicrous offer."

To be fair, Morpheus was well-aware that he shouldn’t listen to your conversation with Matthew. Despite that, he also knew that it was his sole responsibility to tend to your needs and desires, which made eavesdropping seem a little less impolite - at least that’s what he had told himself. If there was the smallest thing that upset your heart, even a flowerpot standing a little too much to the right, he needed to know. He had to fix it as soon as possible so that you don’t see through his charming demeanour and realize what a selfish, calloused creature he truly was; what beast loneliness had turned him into. Now that Morpheus captured his little bird, he wasn’t going to let it fly away - even if that meant clipping its wings but that was a possibility he’d rather not ponder at the moment. Standing in the shadows of his own palace like a beggar at an emperor’s court, he appeared frozen in time as he drank each sound coming from your lips, his frenzied heart dismantled every word you said in search of Dream’s possible shortcomings.

When Matthew put it like that, it did sound a little mad but many mundane things could come off as wrong if put into the right words. Unsure what answer to give him, you only shrugged. "It's a weird world, Matthew."

"You don't even know the guy,” he raised his voice slightly. Clearly, he couldn’t wrap his head around your seemingly reckless choice. “Well, you didn't at the time. And you just left everything behind for him? Your whole life! What if he was crazy?” he was becoming more animated in his bewilderment. Then, he added quickly: “Not that I think he is, of course."

"Then I probably wouldn’t be complaining anyway, would I?" But Matthew didn’t seem to appreciate your grim humour. You looked away for a moment as images of your previous life flashed before your eyes. ‘Previous life’ seemed like a fitting phrase - memories of those bleak days appeared blurry, murky, as though you weren’t recalling real events but someone’s account of a storyline in a book they had once read. "There wasn't much to leave. It wasn't an impulsive decision, there just wasn't a lot to consider in the first place. I don’t know what kind of life you had led before, Matthew,” your sombre eyes looked at him again, “but not everyone desperately clings to whatever scraps they have. My life was nothing beyond bland longing to be elsewhere. No offer is ludicrous when you go to bed each night hoping not to wake up in the morning. But then, to your own horror, you do. As time goes by, you realize you had been alive for too long, that you were never meant to make it this far. So you have a wonderful choice between death and becoming a hopeless failure. For some ridiculous reason I will always hold dear, I was offered a third choice, a way out of the vale of misery and pain I called life.”

But your tale did not satisfy his curiosity. Perhaps this conversation in low voices wasn’t meant to prove something to him but to you. "Have you never considered why he did all of this?"

Of course, you did. You had been wondering about that ever since you agreed to join him in Dreaming. But each hour of long pondering brought you to the very same conclusion: you couldn’t give him anything, so something else was the matter. And the passion with which he had offered to change your life… this wasn’t accidental. Quite clearly, in your mind, Dream of the Endless had chosen you. “I trust his integrity, I suppose,” you answered Matthew with a slight shrug of your shoulders. Truthfully, you couldn’t quite explain your trust towards your husband to yourself. More than reason, it was a case of trusting one’s instincts. “I’d need to have something valuable or unique for Morpheus to have a reason for creating some elaborate scheme. But I don’t. I may be someone but not somebody. A creature of his sort would never pay attention to something like me unless he genuinely cared. It’s bitterly funny when you think about it: it takes an eldritch being to love the most unremarkable human.”

"You know, if something sounds too good to be true, it usually is."

Perhaps Matthew was right. In your own experience, good things in life never came without a price, some secret cost that you could never learn about until the very moment you had to pay it. Your eyes wandered around the majestic, marble hall; the stunningly expensive silk you were wearing; the strange ring on your finger and its crystal, which appeared infinite when you looked inside it - there was, quite literally, no price that could make you regret your choice. "And yet peanut butter ice cream is a thing,” you said absentmindedly still staring into the crystal. Light entered the wonderful jewel from all angles, reflected off of irregular sides inside and turned into a pleiad of colours you couldn’t even begin to name. The gem wasn’t of this world - that much you were certain of.

"Fair point."

Matthew’s agreement elicited laughter from you. Maybe you didn’t quite see eye-to-eye about your relationship with Morpheus but that didn’t necessarily mean you had to remain estranged in any way - truthfully, you wished you could befriend him. He had been, after all, a human once. If there was anyone in Dreaming who could relate to your experiences even a little bit, it was that back-talking raven (not that his cheeky attitude was a flaw).

As your giggling died down, Matthew tried his last chance at this suspicious inquiry. "Do you ever think about going back to the Waking World? Even just popping in for a visit?"

Morpheus clenched his fist. As much as he refused to think about clipping wings at the moment, the idea temptingly lingered in the back of his mind. You can’t go back. You can’t leave him. Suddenly, his frenzied desperation flashed Nada's face before his eyes - he truly didn't want that history to repeat. It would ruin him to live on knowing that you're going through unimaginably horrifying tortures in Hell but if you were to seduce him and then leave as though he meant nothing to you, perhaps that's exactly what you deserved.

"There's nothing and no one for me to visit,” you answered in a decisive tone.

Understanding that this conversation wasn’t going anywhere else, that you had told him all that could be said, Matthew knew it was time for him to go. If Morpheus notices he’d been gone, Dream might start asking questions and considering the nature of his inquiry - it was better to keep the King of Dreaming out of the loop. “Alright then, uh… good talk. See you around… your majesty.” If Matthew had a human face, he’d probably grimace at the royal title. Although Morpheus wasn’t adamant about being addressed properly by his closest friends, he became quite unforgiving when it came to your rightful title. You were a queen and he’d be damned if one of his creations dared to forget that.

With another flutter of dark wings, you were left alone once more. Solitude had never felt so serene - peaceful instead of overwhelmingly empty.

Slowly running out of ways to pass the time, you hesitantly sat on the throne that belonged to Dream. To be fair, he never expressed anything short of encouragement whenever you did but still, it felt like you were a deceptive imposter leeching off a King hopelessly in love. 

Remaining in the shadows, Morpheus watched. His breaths became ragged as he admired the effortlessly regal beauty you were beaming with. Perhaps you refused to believe in your overpowering charm but none who had ever laid their eyes on you could indulge in such dishonesty. A new thought sprouted in his thoughts clouded with an obsession - maybe this is how things should be: the King of Dreams kneeling before his queen, a god-like creature rendered powerless by something far more perfect than he could ever strive to become. Whatever you’d ask him, he’d waste no time completing, never second-guessing your most bloodthirsty whims. Yet you remained completely oblivious to your absolute might, fiddling with the crystal ring he had given you. Inside that gilded cage, you had begged to be imprisoned in, there was a silvered perch like a pedestal an obedient bird of paradise sits on. You were a good nightingale and so you impatiently waited for your merciful captor to return. And what a sweet song you’re going to grace him with! Each mellow melody you gave him made Morpheus all the grimmer: he could never let anyone else know the blessing that calmed his sweet, sweet despair. You were his nightingale, all of your songs belonged to him only.

[sstan-hoe]

𝒊. 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒉, 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑩𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺 𝑫𝑬𝑵 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — fem!reader × incubus!andy barber/bucky barnes/steve kemp/steve rogers/nick fowler/ari levinson/ransom drysdale/lloyd hansen

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — all you wanted was to go on vacation but your car didn't have the same idea. Almost breaking down in the middle of nowhere you luckily made it to a house with lights. A handsome stranger and his friends offer to help you. They're devilishly handsome…or almost demon like? Something about them entrances you.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — nothing major yet!!! it's not violent or smutty, will pick up tho in the next chapter

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 — the first ones here! It's short but the smut ones will be longer and the next one may be a little longer depends if I add smut or how much, follow, reblog, comment!!! follow @sstanhoe-updates for updates — taglist is with conditions

After all the stress you had to endure in the past few months in your office you finally had the long-wanted vacation. Away from the loud noises of New York and over to Italy Lemon Sul Garda for ten days, but first you decided to visit an old friend of yours in New Haven and from there to Boston to fly to Europe.

You checked if you had everything before getting into your care and starting your engine, it wasn’t a too long drive to New Haven. You typed in the route into you navigation to make sure you would drive correctly.

However, you hoped you wouldn’t just stop in the middle of the road. Your car wasn’t the newest and it had a habit of driving you crazy.

The drive started out good until there was a traffic jam causing you to almost park on the highway for two hours until you were near the next exit. Finally driving off you drove and sighed in relief, the navigation quickly switched and led you over a country road where there was nothing but trees and trees.

It was an endless road and always looked the same. Now thanks to the traffic jam it would not take two and a half hours but almost five.

The road got boring, so you put your playlist, the first song that came up was Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA. A big smile spread on your face, and you started to sing along, rolling down your window letting the warm summer air flow through your hair.

“And I'm possessive, it isn't nice. You've heard me saying that smoking was my only vice!” you shouted on the top of your lungs while laughing.

All the stress from the past washed away from you, you felt free for the first time in ages. “But now it isn't true. Now everything is new,” you continued singing along. The road got emptier as time passed, the sun set, and you groaned as you noticed. You planned on getting to New Haven while it was still bright outside.

Now it would be dark when you came to New Haven, and you hated that. Shortly after the fifth song the sun was gone, and the only light were your headlights occasionally a streetlamp.

Suddenly there was a loud sound coming from the hood of your car and you slowed down unintentionally. Your face fell as you car came to a complete stop.

“No, no, no what are you doing? This can’t be happening,” you complained letting your head fall onto the steering wheel with a heavy sigh. You looked up and saw smoke coming from the hood, it made you quickly put on the hazard light and get out of the car.

Opening the hood, a huge cloud of black smoke busted out causing you to cough horribly.

“Fucking shit,” you cursed, it looked awful, and you probably needed someone to tow the car and you would need a taxi or something.

However, to even get a tow truck you needed your phone, getting it out of the car you noticed that you had no signal. Your face changed into confusion, your playlist was just playing so why wouldn’t that work?

Just then your playlist stopped as if it heard your thoughts. You looked around to see if there was anything, in the distance you thought you could make out a house.

You had no other choice but to walk there, it was too late for any car to come by, and it wasn’t like the road was very busy anyway. In the last hour you drove there was not one car coming by.

Walking down the dark, empty street an uneasy feeling climbed up your neck. You may be the only person on this street but that didn’t stop the fear.

After an exhausting fifteen minutes you finally found a house or more like a mansion, it looked beautiful. It was mostly dark, but a few rooms were still illuminated giving you a hint that someone was still awake.

Nervously you walked up to the front door and knocked while fumbling with your fingers.

The door opened and revealed a man with short brown hair, piercing blue eyes in a blue henley and dark jeans, had a broody expression on his face. “Hello?” he asked, confused looking you up and down.

“Hey, my uh car just broke down like fifteen minutes away from here and I’ve got no signal so I couldn’t call anyone. I don’t mean to intrude but uh, can you help me?” you asked softly not quite meeting his gaze.

“Yeah sure, let me just call Ari,” he turned around into the house, “Levinson! There’s a girl who needs help with her car, get ya ass down here,” he shouted making you flinch slightly.

Ari jogged down the stairs, stopped midway as he saw you. You looked gorgeous and so needy. He came back and continued towards you and Bucky, “hey there, I’m Ari nice to meet you,” he gave you a grin extending his right hand to you.

He had lighter hair than the other man but almost the same blue eyes, a full beard and longer hair, broad shoulders overall huge in contrast to the brunette he wore a light blue flannel and shorts.

Taking his hand you told him your name, your voice sounded melodic to both men.

“Let’s go Bucky,” Ari patted Bucky on the back and walked out, sending you a charming smile, “shit it’s rainin’,” he said after coming to a stop to wait for Bucky.

You didn’t even know it was raining, the door was covered. “Do you have an umbrella?” Bucky interrupted and you shook your head slightly. For the first time the brunette gave you a smile, “it’s okay, you can wait inside. Andy will keep you company, don’t worry we will find your car doll,” he promised before turning back once again, “Andy! Look after the pretty girl,” he shouted and followed after Ari.

Right then a man with the same dark hair as Bucky, just a little longer and more styled with a neat full beard walked in, he had a white dress shirt with a loosened necktie paired with dress pants.

Andy had the same reaction like Ari and Bucky, fully blown away by your beauty. Him and Bucky being the oldest in the house made them see a lot over the years but never someone like you. “I'm Andy,” he extended his hand to shake yours, you took his hand saying your name again, “my car just broke down,” you quickly added.

You were taken back by all the handsome men that lived here, you didn’t know how to act.

“Well come in I will make you a cup of tea and you can meet the rest of the guys,” Andy explained as he led you inside the house. Your eyes widened, there were more?

You followed him into the kitchen where you found another brunette, his hair was maybe as long as Andy’s but not as styled and looked like it had more volume. Unlike Andy and Ari he had a clean shaved face, even Bucky had a light stubble meaning it was still a difference to the other three. He had white shirt on with a red jacket on top that suited him perfectly and he was definitely on the hot list. “That's Brandon, but we call him Steve. We have two Steve's so to differentiate them just say Brandon,” Andy enlightened you.

Steve turned around, his reaction no different to Bucky, Ari and Andy. “Well hello, where did you come from?” he asked with a sly smirk. You are at a loss of words, too flabbergasted with the fact that you were in a house with four hot men. “Her car broke down, wanted to give her tea,” thank god Andy jumped in. He moved around the kitchen gathering the ingredients, “what kinda tea you like?” he questioned.

”Uh, I uhm like peppermint,” you said quietly not trusting your voice.

Andy gave you a reassuring smile, he liked your shyness but was also interested in seeing what else there was to you. Steve on the other hand wanted to get you out of yourself, he took your hand and guided you to sit on the kitchen island.

“Where were you headed?” Steve began asking you and leaned himself against the counter next to you. You took a shaky breath,“New Haven and then Boston to Italy.” The man's eyes widened and his lips formed into a grin, “I was in Italy once, a beautiful country.” As you were about to respond two new men walked in.

One had a mustache that looked like he came straight from a porno and shortish hair, he wore an expensive looking polo while the other man had shorter hair than Bucky but the same stubble and wore like Andy a dress shirt and pants. Both looked surprised to see you sitting on the counter.

“Just perfect! Bunny, that's Lloyd with porn stach and Nick with the Andy slash mob boss look,” Steve told you pointing at each one.

Your mouth dropped slightly open, another two men which looked hot as hell.

Before either one of them could say a word Ari and Bucky came back bearing bad news. “I'm sorry doll but that car of yours is gonna take a while, we could get a tow truck tomorrow. Do you have anywhere to be?” Bucky was the one to tell you.

“I wanted to visit my friend but I can cancel, I have this flight to Italy in four days though,” you explained to them. You had no idea what they would do, would they let you stay? You had nowhere else to go. “I think you can stay here, what do you guys think?” Ari asked out loud, stepping forward.

Lloyd as well as Nick were sure they would have no problem with you staying here and the others thought no different. That was when Lloyd remembered something, “we gotta ask Rogers, he will freak out if we don't and Drysdale too or at least tell him.” There were two more?

All of the men nodded, as if on queue there could be heard loud bickering from the next room.

Nick shook his head and walked to the door, opening it he shouted; “get in here assholes we have a meeting. Now,” the bickering stopped and in stepped a blonde man and brunette, both shaved clean and the hair as long as Andy, tall and good build. A wet dream.

“This is Y/n our guest, her car broke down and she needs a place to stay. Doll that's Ransom and Steve.”

So this was the other Steve, you looked from Bucky to the two who looked intrigued like the other seven did. “She can stay,” Ransom instantly said, causing relief to wash over you, thankful you didn't have to sleep in your car. “Yeah it's the right thing to do, we have enough guest bedrooms, I'll show you,” Steve waved at you to follow him. You quickly jumped from the kitchen island to follow him but not before Andy pressed the cup of tea into your hands. Whispering a thank you, you went after Steve.

As you were gone, Lloyd clicked his tongue against his teeth, “we're keeping here right?”

“Yes,” “definitely,” “yep,” “for sure,” “uh huh,” “'course,” all men in the room agreed with Lloyd.

“But I do wanna go to Italy,” Brandon cut in, for a moment everyone looked at him before they nodded their heads and gave their consent again.

“One thing though, do we tell her?” Andy asked, looking around. Some faces looked unsure while others thought they needed to tell you.

“I mean she will find out either way…,” Ransom brought up and got agreement in response. “Well then let's wish her a good night…separately,” groans could be heard as Andy made the announcement and got a pad on the back from Bucky.

𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺 𝑫𝑬𝑵 — @smile1318 @georgiapeach30513 @alina02 @rogersbarber @antisocialwritingx

[jamesunderwater]

🔀 Prongsfoot

(doing that thing where i go back to old great asks / prompt requests because i had a bad day lol, and this one was so gooooooood) the meme was: give me a pairing and i'll shuffle my playlist and make up an AU based on the song

"here comes a thought" - from steven universe, feat. Estelle and AJ Michalka

(linking to the youtube video bc i listened to it recently when my therapist told me to and i may or may not have sobbed. highly recommend taking the 3 min to watch❤)

and damn, this shit does NOT need to be AU to work for prongsfoot, but okay, since AU is what the prompt asks for:

Everyone knows Sirius Black is one of those kids -- nothing but trouble, always trying to make life harder for his parents, does all this acting out just to get attention. He runs away and no one asks why, they just take him by the collar and throw him back through the threshold. He does drugs and no one asks why, they just give him endless detentions and suspensions. He tries to end it all and no one asks why, they just lock him up where, finally, he can be someone else's problem. Sirius knows as soon as he sees James Potter that the other boy doesn't belong there. But Sirius is selfish, everyone has always said it, and James is funny. The walls aren't as gray when he's in the room. His last roommate didn't speak, and Sirius got put in isolation for three days when the one before that spit in his face and called him a faggot. (It isn't nice to strangle people when they call you a faggot.) James talks to him, doesn't call him a faggot, asks if Sirius knows a way to get into the front desk staff's candy stash. So even though this place is evil, Sirius is glad James is here. The doctors don't really care that Sirius wakes up every night between 3 and 4am and can't breathe. They give him a round blue pill, then a small yellow pill, finally a long pink one, and then they tell him it's all in his head. Tell him to breathe. Tell him to call the night staff if he needs someone. But the night staff just sticks a needle in you so you miss breakfast and the outside hour and feel like shit when you finally get up at 1 in the afternoon. So Sirius climbs out of bed mechanically every night, takes his pillow and bedsheet, and huddles in the nearby corner. He holds the pillow and begs his body to breathe, tries to remember that it hasn't killed him any other night; it's just in his head, it's all in his head. It doesn't matter, though. Every night he's terrified his breath won't come back. Every morning he's embarrassed he got so fucking upset about it again. He is so thankful to find that James is a deep sleeper. He's so thankful, until he isn't. Until he and James fall into each other laughing on the sofa during recreation time every day, their hands and arms entangled. Until they sneak back inside during outside hour and steal three girl scout cookies each from the box left open at reception. Until they stay up past light's out and whisper about their favorite things, their plans, asking each other all the questions except the obvious ones. Then, he starts to wish James weren't so heavy a sleeper. James finds out one night when he gets up to pee at 3:43. He doesn't make a big deal of it. He sits down next to Sirius and looks him in his panicked eyes and says, "It's okay, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here, I'm here." James takes Sirius's hand and Sirius is a little less scared, finds a little more room in his chest to breathe. The two boys hold each other with a firm grip until the twisting shadows in their minds start to retreat, and tomorrow feels more possible.

dedicated to everyone who reads this and knows what the gray walls look like, or fears meeting them. it's okay, it's okay, it's okay. &lt;3

[separatist-apologist]

Not exactly a ranking, but could you do ACOTAR men and their favourite Taylor Swift song?

This is going to be hard because part of me is like, oh what Taylor Swift song describes them? But you want their FAVORITE song by Taylor okay. IN NO ORDER:

Tamlin: I just think he's really into Folklore/Evermore, and in that vein, I'm gonna give him Exile because he likes to punish himself on an endless loop, but honestly any of the track 6 deep cuts are probably on a well-loved playlist

Tarquin: Karma, for sure (but I'd also give him Today Was A Fairytale because something about Tarquin just feels very Fearless to me. I also feel like he is the staunchest Taylor's Version defender)

Kallias: Mr. Lover, you mean? Daylight, 1000%. I think he had that song on repeat for 50 straight years UTM daydreaming about Viviane, and it was running through his head while he married her.

Eris Vanserra: I think he'd say he doesn't like Taylor Swift at all but I Did Something Bad is on all his workout playlists. He's always in his Reputation era and also sings This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things at the top of his lungs in the shower

Azriel: Oh you mean Mr. 1989? It's Style 1000%, and he's a major Harry and Taylor got away with vehicular manslaughter truther.

Helion- You guys keep letting me forget about Helion, but his is a tie between You Are In Love and Back to December but if you ask him, he'll say its Me! because he lives for that kind of chaos (sometimes he claims its Shake It Off)

Cassian: I know someone is going to try to come for me on this one, but it's Enchanted and you can shut the fuck up about it because I'm RIGHT. I could write 8000 words on why this is the absolute correct choice

Jurian- I don't know why I feel this way, but I keep coming back to Tear Drops On My Guitar. I feel like it's the only one he knows, but also he wants to be edgy and different, so he's going with Debut as his favorite

Lucien: Unironically obsessed with Anti-Hero. Pretty sure he wrote half those lyrics in his diary at one point.

Rhys: Mr. Perfectly fine himself? This was so hard, I think Rhys would like so many songs, but I'm gonna go with Treacherous (but I was SO CLOSE to picking Come Back...Be Here)

And honestly every single man on this can belt the words to We Are Never Getting Back Together and that's from my lips to Gods ears

[kitkatpadywaks]

Strange Is The Passage Of Time

Part 4 of La Mechancete De La Vie.

Warnings: Some Realm Fuckery. Profanity. Death's Got Some Concerns. As Does Dream. Life Self-Doubts. Life Is Confused By Feelings. Dream Teases Her And Tries To Keep Away His Hornyness.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you for the love I've been getting for the series. It's incredible to know that people enjoy reading it, especially as I'm having a lot of fun writing it.

On another note: is anyone interested in me adding the playlist I've got going for this series? (It would be on the series Masterlist.) It would consist mainly of ~vibes~ for the character and the series' general plot (with more added as I go).

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Life grows frustrated as she walks along the maze, her hands brushing against the leaves of the bushes that make it up, constantly aware of time as it ticks by. A day turns into many, then a week, which turns into two weeks, then three, and then a month has passed. 

She sighs, clenching her jaw as Destiny's string moves direction again. Leading to the opposite side of the maze, where she just came from- it seems even she wasn't immune to the realm's difficulty. Unless Destiny was fucking with her. She wouldn't be surprised; he never liked her- probably because he saw what she would become in his little book. 

Life ignores the changed direction and continues walking, keeping an eye on Destiny's string as it changes again. 

He's definitely fucking with me. 

Life thinks as the maze opens to a path- she follows it until she enters a stone courtyard, Destiny's cloaked figure waiting for her, staring at her from underneath his hood. 

"Life."

"Destiny." She huffs, stopping an arm's length away from him, "I can't say I ever liked your realm. Fucks around too much for my taste."

"You found me exactly when you were supposed to."

"Okay..." Life looks at him strangely, forgetting how much she disliked talking with Destiny, The Endless always talking weirdly with her.

"I will not give you what you seek."

She smirks at him, "I don't need you to. I can take the information, but I'm guessing you already knew that- your book and all."

Life sees the imperceivable nod and pulls apart his string, The Endless shifting uncomfortably at the sensation. She goes to the beginning, his and Death's first conversation about 'her behaviour', seeing them plotting and scheming her imprisonment.

She feels another month pass.

Life doesn't linger- she passes through each memory, dismissing the ones of no importance. She takes in Death and Destiny's plans, storing away the information in her mind, their methods and how the prison works and operates. Life searches for a bit longer but finds nothing else, so she lets go of Destiny's string. The Endless's shoulders drop slightly, imperceivable if not for Life's keen eyes.

"Does Death know I'm free?"

"No."

Life waits to see if he'll say anything else, chuckling when he doesn't, "I'd say it was nice seeing you, but we both know that'd be a lie. Goodbye, Destiny."

He stays as still as a statue as she walks away, fading out of Destiny's realm and landing in the mortal realm, where she can feel Dream. And Death.

Life walks around the streets of London, searching for Dream or his string, whatever comes first, wanting to spend time with him while she waits, preparing and gathering enough power to enact her revenge. 

She finds his string but latches onto a nearby human's string to watch him without alerting him to her presence, as she's unsure how he'll react to her, especially with his sister so close.

Life watches the humans playing their sport as Dream feeds the pigeons from the bench he sits on. Life senses Death come closer. She watches her friend makes her way to Dream, unable to feel Life's presence. Life doubts it even crossed her mind that she could be free.

Life sits on a bench somewhere in London, letting Dream reunite with his sister, but keeping an eye on him using his string, not interacting with it, so he doesn't know she's there and potentially alert Death to her presence. She stays seated, taking in the new human world. Watching as Death takes Dream along while she does her job. Life is too far away to listen in as the siblings casually talk to each other. But, she perks up when she sees Death's recollection of Destruction abandoning his duties, sad at the news as Life rather enjoyed his company when she met him. She lets her powers expand, trying to find Destruction's string and find out where he's gone.

Life notices the sudden lack of humans around the siblings. So she makes a decision, probably the wrong one, and latches onto Dream's string, only relaxing when she sees he doesn't notice her presence.

"What's on your mind?"

She peers at Death through Dream's string as they stop in a park, a human man eyeing Death, clearly attracted to her. Life leans back against the bench, curious when she sees her face pop into Dream's mind and then their kiss, Life blushing slightly.

Death chuckles, "What's her name?"

Dream looks at his older sister, confused.

"You have that look on your face." She waggles her finger in Dream's face, "Same look you get every time you're head over heels."

"I don't know her name."

Life chuckles, breathless from hearing Dream's voice for the first time, his deep and sensuous tone mesmerising her.

Death scoffs, "How do you not know her name?"

"She didn't tell me, and I can't find anyone that knows her. Almost like she doesn't exist."

Life can almost feel him glaring at her, annoyed at her elusiveness. She watches Death as she frowns briefly- like an unpleasant thought crossed her mind. Before her face settles back into a teasing smile, a hint of guilt in her eyes, unseen by Dream.

"Okay. How did you meet? What does she look like?"

"We were imprisoned together." Dream frowns at Death's confusion, "You didn't know?"

Death takes a deep breath, shaking her head, panic filling her eyes. "No, I didn't. I thought you were alone. Dream, what did she look like?" 

He describes her, his voice full of warmth and affection. Missing his older sister's horror as she realises who he was with for the last century. The day she had feared has finally arrived. Life was free.

"Did she hurt you?"

Dream turns to frown at his apprehensive sister as she looks around. "No. Why would she?"

"You don't know who she is, what she's capable of doing."

"Enlighten me. Why are you so afraid?" Dream's voice is stern, making Life's body feel strange.

"Her name is Life- she was my friend." Death swallows the lump in her throat, "She is the most powerful being in existence, and she's killed many people, little brother. So we had to trap her."

"You imprisoned her?" Dream steps away from his sister.

"We had to. Life would have killed more, and we couldn't let that happen."

"Whose we?"

"Destiny, and The Kindly Ones."

Life feels Dream deflate at that, sensing him become unsure of her as Death continues.

"She can't stay free, Dream. She's too dangerous."

It's not as simple as she makes it seem. Life pushes that thought into his head, making him tense slightly at the intrusion.

"What is it then?"

Complicated- and easier to explain in person.

"Where do you want to meet?"

"Dream? Who are you talking to?" Death frowns at her brother, worried, as she thinks she knows the answer.

Dream looks at Death, his sister shaking her head at the look in his eye.

"You can't meet her. You don't know what she'll do."

I'll be in The Dreaming. Life drops the thought in his mind, pulling her mind away from his and leaving his string, sensing an argument about to start between the siblings.

She rises from the bench, looking around at the humans as they go about their day, wondering what everyone thinks is great about them.

Life shakes herself out of those thoughts, knowing if she let them fester and grow, she would do something drastic, and she couldn't be bothered to deal with any potential consequences, not when she was so close to reuniting with Dream and enacting her revenge on those that betrayed her.

She ponders on how to enter The Dreaming. Should she wait at the gate or enter the palace, where Dream would most likely go first, or would that be considered rude?

Damn Endless, making me have feelings for him.

Was this what it was like to care for someone? To analyse every decision she has ever and will ever make? Life wasn't sure she liked it, the self-doubt. She had never second-guessed a decision before- and Life hadn't even made it yet.

A heavy sigh leaves her mouth, making a nearby human side-eye her. Life glares at them, the human flinching and turning away.

Life smirks and leaves the mortal realm in an instant. She lands on the black beach of The Dreaming, a large gate looming over her. Her eyes start to take in the details when the gates groan and open, revealing Lucienne, the royal librarian.

"You must be Life. Lord Morpheus sent word you would be arriving and asked me to escort you to the palace." Lucienne gives her a tight smile.

Life nods, resisting the urge to delve into her string. "Thank you, Lucienne."

Lucienne looks at her, slightly alarmed, "You know my name?"

"I know everyone's name." Life didn't care to put that knowledge to use, for the most part. But, it was often beneficial in some cases, especially when plotting revenge.

Lucienne nods, eyeing Life before turning and walking in the palace's direction, not waiting to see if Life is following her.

Life raises an eyebrow at the librarian's back as she follows behind her, her eyes flickering to The Dreaming's residents as they pass them. The Dreams and Nightmares watch her with caution, feeling her power but unable to tell if she's a threat to them, their ruler, or their realm. Life gives them small smiles in an attempt to ease their worries. Knowing it would be best to be on their good side if she'll be in The Dreaming for a while. Enough beings hated her- she didn't need Dream's subjects on that list too. She chuckles when she sees one of the Dreams blush at her attention, and the other Dreams surrounding her turn to chatter excitedly with her.

"Don't antagonise them." Lucienne quietly snaps at her.

"I assure you I'm not." Life holds back her irritation, keeping her voice calm and light as they enter the palace.

Lucienne hums, leading her through the halls until they walk through the doors leading to the throne room. "Lord Morpheus will meet you here shortly."

Life sighs when Lucienne quickly leaves, making a mental note to confront the librarian later, so they can get past whatever has made Lucenne dislike her. Life slowly looks around the room, taking in its details and stunning architecture, particularly enjoying the cosmos swirling above her head, missing the days when she could fly amongst the stars without a worry in the world.

The back of her neck prickles, a small smile on her face as she stares at the galaxy, "Your realm is beautiful."

Dream represses a shiver at the sound of her voice. Oh, her voice. There are no words in any language to describe her voice. Or the effect it has on him. He only knows he never wants to be without the sound. "Thank you, Life."

She turns to face him, "I'm sorry to have caused tension with your sister."

He can't stop the shiver this time. Thoroughly surprised by Life's sincerity, "You actually mean it."

"Yes. Death will always be my only friend- even with her betrayal. I will care for her for as long as I'm alive."

"But you will still punish her." It's not a question.

"Eventually." Life tilts her head, her thoughts racing, "I have never... been betrayed by someone I care about- I'm not quite sure how to... go about it. If I even should."

"You know my answer."

"I do."

The two beings stare at each other, Life's head tilting once again, Dream mirroring her, silently asking her what's on her mind.

"I want to kiss you."

Dream smiles, the confusion in her voice adorable to the Endless, "Why does that confuse you?"

"I've never felt this way before." Life feels her face heat up, growing annoyed at her own embarrassment.

"Never?"

She shakes her head, shifting on the spot as Dream steps closer to her. Her eyes give off a faint white glow when his hand cups her cheek. And his lips brush against hers.

"There are things we still need to discuss." He whispers as he pulls away.

"Tease." Life glares at him.

Dream chuckles, "Are you staying in The Dreaming?"

She nods, "If you'll allow it."

"Always." Dream grabs her hand, lifting it and pressing a kiss against her knuckles, "You may stay in my chambers while a room's prepared for you- I won't be using it."

"Thank you. Do you mind if I use your library?" Life has a few things she needs to check on.

"You may access anything you please while in The Dreaming."

Life smiles softly at him, Dream's heart fluttering in response.

"Shall I show you to my chambers?" He keeps the possibility of innuendo out of his voice, despite where his traitorous mind wanders, not wanting their relationship to go there just yet, as the argument with his sister suddenly echoes in his head.

"Lead the way."

~

Thank You for reading!

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part I

Read Looking for Space here.

Listen to the LFS playlist / RFS playlist (all fic playlists get updated even to this day!!)

Word Count: ~3300

Warnings: none

A/N: Y'all...I'm so happy to be here, immersed in this new series. I began writing this back in April after I, seemingly out of thin air, came up with a foundation that seemed solid enough to even attempt writing a sequel to my beloved LFS. Ever since I finished that fic, I thought that one day, I might return for more. I have a very hard time letting any series go and LFS was truly a momentous project in my life--the fact that so many people have read it and continue to read it brings me so much joy, I can't even tell you.

Having been a fan of GVF for about five years now, I do feel a lot of sentimentality and nostalgia surrounding the band, the music and definitely my own fics, too, particularly all my series. I can still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I was mapping out certain pieces of them in my mind. I felt a huge rush of nostalgia recently when I revisited my city's planetarium for a star show, which was a huge source of inspiration for LFS, and I realized that it was literally this same month, August, in 2019 that I was just finishing up the first 8 chapters of LFS, not even planning on making it a 30-something part series (LOL!). You'll see, if you read, that some of these feelings find their way into RFS. This isn't because it's a self-insert fic, rather that's inspired by how much this fandom has seen, experienced and grown over the years. I imagine my friends and readers who were back there in the pre-pandemic GVF era can relate to some level of nostalgia. A big theme in RFS is change. I think we all can absolutely relate to that, too. One thing remains the same though--this is a love story, through and through.

This probably seems like major overkill to introduce fan fiction but this is how I feel. Many of my old GVF friends have moved on in some way or another and I've often felt alone the past few years with still being so tethered to this group of beautiful, silly, fascinating boys that spark so much joy and fantasy for all of us. So, as always, thank you so, so much for reading my fics. I really hope you enjoy

P.S. I am cross-posting to wattpad (comments bring me life!)

---

I was getting lost in the pictures of Alaska–deep, shiny blue water, towering, white-capped mountains, a vivid stream of neon green in the Aurora Borealis, lush green forests. Even enormous, graceful whales surfacing, their tails nearly popping out of my screen as I unconsciously leaned in closer, hovering over my desk. I blinked hard as I turned my attention to the next picture that had been emailed over to me–a huge white ship, lined with windows that seemed endless–and huffed, shifting in my squeaky second-hand office chair. I didn’t even have a true desire to go on a cruise or even go to Alaska, but the neverending research into foreign lands nagged at me, reminded me that it felt like a very a long time since I’d been anywhere new. At least not anywhere exciting, really. 

I grabbed my phone and opened the gallery to scroll through the last trip Josh and I had been on. It’d been a long weekend about nine months prior, which reminded me that it wasn’t all that long ago at all but it still felt like ages since returning to the normalcy of day to day life. It had been a gorgeous summer excursion where we’d had a comfortable, clean hotel room, a warm pool and three nights out all to ourselves, and I found myself yearning for that freedom and escapism again. Plus the sunshine and heat. Michigan winters persisted, long and brutal, and we hadn’t broken through into any real spring weather until just the past week, which had at least given Sam a nice birthday. Josh and Jakes’ birthday was coming up fast. I thought it’d be nice to do something for them, with all of us–go somewhere for real again, all four of us, run amok in a hotel or airbnb. Or just have a nice dinner together followed by bar-hopping. Whatever the twins wanted, really. 

The picture I’d secretly snapped of Josh in our hotel room wandering out of the bathroom completely naked save for a towel twirled around his head came up after a dual selfie of us at the pool and I laughed loudly to myself, throwing my hand to my mouth. I’d nearly forgotten about so many of the little moments. It was so easy to forget when time kept slipping by like the wind, each good moment gone in the blink of an eye and each bad moment suspended in the air until something else came along, and the minutes turned to days and the days turned to weeks and months and before I even knew it, years had gone by and it felt like nothing and everything had changed all at once. 

Next I scrolled to a picture of the best breakfast I’d ever had, this amazing brie-stuffed French toast with a warm berry compote and housemade whipped cream, then the picture of Josh’s breakfast, which had been a skillet full of chorizo, bell peppers, eggs and queso that he’d deemed to be “orgasmic.” My stomach clenched in response and I looked at my phone clock, suddenly eager for dinner once again. My hours were almost up with 5 p.m. creeping on me and my mind turned its attention to Josh and I’s relatively new Friday night ritual–binging on Chinese and watching the most obscure, nonsensical horror movie we could find. With that, I swiveled around to stretch my legs in the sun through the window and pulled up the menu on my phone, trading pictures of Alaskan mountains for pictures of fried dumplings and greasy lo mein; a few seconds later, a very appropriate text popped up:

Hey mama, I’m gonna be a little late tonight. Want me to pick up dinner on the way home?

Yes please. What’s your ETA?

8ish? What’s on the menu tonight?

I’m gonna do the orange chicken and an egg roll. Wanna share some crab rangoon?

yes I do. What about dumplings?

obviously! 

;) see you soon 

I’d need something to hold myself over until Josh got home, though I was glad to have this part of our routine to look forward to. Stability was important and even Josh had come to understand that more and more. I turned my attention back to Alaska, mulling over the images and cycling through words in my head that I could bring to the page and entice people with, as if cruises needed more promotional materials and marketing to bring in profit. They were relatively cheap, all-inclusive and easy for people to handle and reminding myself of this made me bitter all over again–why couldn’t my company make one of their perks a free trip for employees once a year? I didn’t know their exact state of finances but I bet it could be done. They just didn’t want to. And the irony was that they didn’t pay most of their employees enough to take extravagant trips of their own.

Whatever. There were other, more important things I told myself, getting up to stretch and find something from the fridge or snack cupboard. In 32 more minutes I could clock out and put these wild places out of my head for a bit–the weather called for a long walk somewhere.

It was the nicest day we’d had so far, which I fully realized once I was driving and headed out to a familiar, easy forest trail Josh and I often did together on the weekends. But we had a busy weekend coming up, actually. We desperately needed to stock up on groceries–my most recent find of an old packet of peanuts as my last snack was testament to that–and then the boys had a show at Waterstreet. Sunday wouldn’t be as fun–my sister was repainting the entire interior of her new house and had somehow roped Josh and I into helping, in part because we were just that nice, according to Josh anyway, and also because she let each of us pick one color for one room each. Josh had chosen a shade of dusky desert red for the den and I’d chosen something called “spring morning,” a pale lilac, for the powder room, which seemed pretty fitting for the time of year she was making these renovations. 

The trail was bustling, which I wasn’t surprised by, and much of my walk was spent nodding and smiling to other people passing by. The break in weather was infectious for all of us in the area–everyone seemed to be in better moods finally, myself included even despite the gripes I had with work and money and everything else. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday that Josh and I were lying on our backs in the deep black night, gazing up at infinite stars and trying to come up with material for that poetry class that had been the catalyst to bring us together. The warm sun above me while I continued down the dirt path also reminded me of days past, of the first hike Josh and I ever had together when we both stripped down to our feelings, laughed, kissed through sweat, and had decided that was it. We’d made a lot of decisions over the years, so many that I felt like I hadn’t even noticed some of them, but I’d never decided to let fog cloud my memories. I hated that it happened regardless. And sometimes I absolutely hated what changes all the decisions had led to. I wanted to go back in time every once in a while to relive those moments and those days and it made my heart ache to know I couldn’t. Josh would assure me that the future would be just as good–and sometimes even better–than what those memories had to offer. 

And he was often right. Life was good, and I reminded myself of that as I narrowly avoided tripping over an obtuse rock sticking out of the dirt, it was just more challenging now. There was no school to fall back on–I hadn’t realized how much of a safety net that had really been at the time–and less free time. There were more financial worries. More pressures in life. But if nothing else, I had the best people in my life possible; if nothing else, Josh and I were rock solid. He didn’t let a week go by without reminding me that we were soulmates and I agreed wholeheartedly–no matter what might happen, we’d have each other. 

After my walk, I thought about running our necessary errands on my own but ultimately decided that’d be a deviation in routine I didn’t want to make. Josh was the best person to go grocery shopping with, being surprisingly focused and deliberate in his choices. He also was the best at picking out produce, somehow always able to discern which fruit was just the right amount of ripe, and he was good at finding the best deals. He was the coupon cutter, which always made me laugh, and I was the one who followed instinct more than the list we mutually made the day before. I would get caught up in being frivolous, more often than not tossing special treats into the cart that I couldn’t excuse beyond something like, “Come on, you like them too” to which Josh would agree with his cheeky little grin. 

And that same grin was on his face later that night when he came home with the bag bursting with Chinese takeout. His voice and the smell of soy sauce and that syrupy orange stuff made me hop up from the couch, excited for all the things, but mostly him.

Josh gave a little groan as he headed into the kitchen, his backpack still over his shoulders while he carried the white plastic bag in his right hand and his keys in his left. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, shuffling and rustling all the way out of my sight. “Stephanie needed extra time–she’s having trouble with the new cameras. And to be fair, they do have a steep learning curve. You remember how much trouble I had with them last week?” 

I followed him in, taking the bag out of his hand so he could zip back out and discard his keys and backpack. “Which one is Stephanie again? The one who’s obsessed with ‘film noir?’” 

Josh chuckled from beyond the walls before appearing again, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Yeah, that’s her. And that’s another thing–I’m gonna have to review how these cameras even film in black and white because for the life of me I can’t remember right now.” 

“Does she have any movie recs?” I asked as I opened a cupboard to get plates. “We gotta figure out what we’re watching tonight.”

“What about Night of the Reaper? You haven’t seen that one yet.”

“Yeah, but you've seen it,” I replied, wagging a pair of chopsticks at him. “That’s like, cheating. We gotta watch something we both haven’t seen.”

“We’ll find something.” Josh moved in close and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and my heart fluttered–it always did. “What about you? What’d you get up today in my absence?”

“I went to the Hemlock Trail. It was busy,” I told him while we both plated our respective dishes, my stomach growling. “It was nice though. Looks like we’re gonna have good weather for your birthday.”

“That would be ideal but I’m going to be cautiously optimistic. Last year we had snow, remember?”

“Yeah, like a dusting,” I said with a little laugh, purposefully knocking my hip into his. “I’m gonna be blatantly optimistic and say it’ll be good. And we still gotta figure out what you wanna do.”

“We'll figure it out, my love.” Josh led the way to the living room and sank into the couch which we could have probably done with replacing; he set his can of sparkling water on the end table then grabbed the remote. “I’m so excited for these dumplings. I don’t care if it’s cat food.”

“They do kind of taste like cat food, don’t they?” I concurred, settling down on the other side of the couch. I put my plate on the coffee table in front of us and pulled it closer. 

“They smell like cat food, too,” Josh said, picking a dumpling up between his pair of chopsticks. “I don’t mind. They’re fucking delicious.” 

“I really don’t get how you’ve always known how to use chopsticks,” I remarked, opting for a fork instead to pierce my own dumpling while Josh fished through the cushions for the remote as he chewed. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ve tried to teach you, doll.”

“And I haven’t learned, so either you’re a shit teacher or I’m a shit student.”

Josh laughed and swatted my arm with the remote. “Hush! I’ll have you know that my students love me.”

I nodded, chewing. “So I’m a shitty student after all.”

“You are not. There’s a learning curve to chopsticks too, ya know.” Josh took another bite of his dumpling then leaned forward, peering at the TV. “Okay, so–what’re we watching?”

I followed his scrolling through our shared list of choices while I tackled the orange chicken. “What about that one?” I asked when he paused on the title Devil’s Ground. “It looks pretty obscure. 1983, a director I’ve never heard of, looks grainy and weird.”

“It’s been on our list forever,” Josh said, clicking the play button. “Let’s give it a shot.”

The movie really did turn out to be obscure–the protagonist was a teenage girl who finds an old well in the middle of the woods and climbs down into it, for some reason believing that her missing brother would be down there. Josh and I chided about the already well-known fairytale parallels, except in this movie the girl encountered creatures in the world beyond the well even weirder than those in Alice in Wonderland or Labyrinth, and ended up having to get betrothed to some menacing demon, played by a giant puppet, to save her brother. Then she and her brother kill the demon and find their way out of the strange world and back in their world.

Josh laughed loudly as the movie came to an end. “That was ridiculous. One of the best ones we’ve seen so far.”

“Those puppets were something else,” I commented, watching the credits roll and hoping everyone on that production went on to do better things. “The little blue one with teeth was my favorite.”

“Why didn’t they just get a real actor for the demon?” Josh asked, shaking his head. “Good god. It was a travesty but also kind of brilliant. I could show this to my students to demonstrate the use of close-up shots.”

“The close-up on the puppet demon when he was being slaughtered seemed unnecessary.”

Josh got up and stretched, gathering all of our plates and silverware and his chopsticks. “It really was. You want me to do the dishes?”

I turned the TV off and followed him, carrying in our empty drinks. “I thought another part of our Friday night tradition was saving the dishes for the next day and we can argue about it then.” 

“No argument. You get to do them since I got the food,” Josh said as he set the plates into the sink with a clatter, then pinched my side. “Deal?”

I giggled, shrinking away from his ticklish touch. “Deal.”

“Anyway, my darling,” Josh began to say, twirling away from me and to another kitchen cabinet. I watched, amused at how he always struggled to reach far enough up to get the wine glasses. “There’s a full moon tonight. Let’s go see it.”

“What? There is?” I asked, trying to peek at wherever it may have been through the kitchen window, our third-story apartment giving us a halfway decent view of the sky most of the time. That was one of the few perks of this place–we’d moved in last year, sizing up so I could have my “office” and enough space in general for both of us to not be completely on top of one another–though Josh never complained about that–but the building was old and lacking a number of things, namely outdoor space. Our little balcony was all we had anymore. 

Josh trailed out, wine glasses tinkling in one hand while he held the mostly full bottle of red wine in the other, and I followed again, feeling a sense of eagerness for the night sky which I hadn’t felt in, well, about a month. Our life together was full of tradition, I had come to realize in time, and a viewing party of the full moon whenever possible was certainly one of them. I’d just been too wrapped up in Alaskan cruises to remember this one on the calendar. 

The night air was chilly–a tingle ran down my spine and Josh noticed this as I sat down next to him on the cushioned bench we’d garbage-picked right after moving in. He skillfully and quickly poured each of us wine, set the bottle down and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. 

“It’s gorgeous,” he declared, his voice as rich as ever but a softness brushed through those words. I always loved whenever he got so starstruck over something that he couldn’t help but be concise. 

“It really is,” I agreed, pulling my gaze away from Josh’s equally–if not more so–gorgeous face to take in the huge globe of bright cool white above us. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what planet I’m on.”

Josh laughed, light and affectionate. “You’re on planet earth. It’s disappointing sometimes, I know, but if we weren’t here, I’m not sure we’d be able to see the moon and the stars like this.”

I took a drink, already lulled by Josh’s voice and his warm, strong arm around me. He’d always been strong, considerable muscle secure beneath silky tan skin, but he’d gotten stronger still; the muscles had become even more obvious and I sometimes poked fun, and a little bit of envy, at him for being a “hard-body” because, well, he was. I’d learned to memorize the curves and lines of his body throughout the changes, tracing every plain and valley with my fingers whenever I had the chance.“Probably not, no. We’re really lucky after all, aren’t we?” I said, reaching up to stroke his hand over my shoulder. 

“I think we are. Especially if we can see the stars wherever we go.”

“Speaking of–earlier I was thinking about how it’s been a while since we took a trip anywhere.”

“Yeah? Well, where would you want to go?” Josh asked, bringing his wine to his lips. “Not Alaska, I assume.”

“No, not Alaska. But I don’t know, Josh, I feel like we should go somewhere soon.”

Josh took another drink, looking ahead through the darkness that was interrupted by various porch lights from the other apartments rather than up at the jeweled sky. I’d expected enthusiasm–he’d have more free time soon with the semester coming to an end and I still had a lot of vacation days left, making the whole thing easy in theory–but he was uncharacteristically quiet. 

“What?” I prodded, tugging at his wrist. 

“No, nothing,” he assured me, coming alive again with his body squirming beside me, his hand grabbing mine in reciprocity. “I was just thinking about it. We should both think about it some more.”

I returned my attention back to the moon and the stars and a memory overcame me so viscerally it actually hurt–the abandoned barn, the vast field, the endless sky hanging overhead the two of us. “Alright, let’s think about it,” I concluded, wishing that the place we could travel to was back in time. 

Josh sighed and curled around me. “I feel like a dumpling,” he said, lifting a hand to pat his stomach, and I laughed right into the night along with him.

---

Tagging no one because my list is so outdated that none of those people are even in the fandom or use tumblr anymore LOL please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

[hajimeiwaswife]

AUGUST | CHAPTER 7: SAD BEAUTIFUL TRAGIC

[Masterlist]

Chapter 6 Chapter 8

Summary: You’re marrying Izuku Midoriya in September, but he gets an emergency call from All Might’s old agency in the U.S., requesting his services for the entirety of August. A death threat directed at you for being his partner has his hair on edge. However, the always responsible, caring and heroic Shoto Todoroki comes to your rescue, offering to take care of you for the whole month. Who would have thought that 31 days were enough to make you reconsider your engagement with the number 1 hero and fall in love with the Icy Hot man who held your hand during the last breeze of summer?

Warnings: Everyone is 25 more or less, death threats. MDNI.

Wc: 3,4 K

Playlist

It was a warm morning. The birds were singing in the calmness of the dead city, just prior to the usual motion of cars and people that headed to their respective workplaces or schools. The sun felt like a cosy caress to the cheek, the sunbeam mixed with the morning summer breeze created an aura so different from the excruciating sweltering weather that accompanied the endless days of August.

With a cup of iced coffee placed in the small wooden table of the balcony I enjoyed the first hours of the day, tapping on my computer and trying to keep up to date with the delayed work. I had even indulged myself in a white silk gown, feeling like an elf in a forest, and being helped by the music in my headphones that acted as a soundtrack to my fantasy life.

Shoto had recommended me to start working on the balcony during mornings for that same reason: the feeling of belonging to another world. Although he didn’t describe it like that, it was more like ‘the weather is nice’. But those are big words coming from Todoroki’s mouth, so I liked to think that was what he meant. He also added ‘come back inside at noon, it’s hot then.’

Everything was so quiet, so serene, it almost felt like a sin to savour such a delicate moment without sharing it with a loved one. Shoto had left, apparently there was a small case he needed to attend, and as I was safe in his apartment, he ―reluctantly― opted to give me the morning for myself. He would be back by lunch, or so he said.

The work on the screen kept my mind occupied, even if every so often I got distracted by the nice atmosphere. I had translated a couple of documents, but I still had quite a few to submit. I kept tapping, looking through different dictionaries and, from time to time, activating my quirk to go faster. What a blessing.

It wasn’t until the sun was too high in the sky and the summer breeze too heavy on my skin that I decided to head back to the dining room table. I washed the cup I had used from breakfast and then sat in front of my computer again. The document had me absorb, until something caught my attention from the corner of my eye: there was something in the chair next to mine.

Curiosity was never one of my weaknesses, but it didn’t mean I wanted to know less than the information I was given, so I looked. A fond smile appeared on my face when I saw the denim jacket Shoto used the night before to go for some extra rice for dinner; it even smelled like him, too.

Shoto smelled like comfort. That was the best description I could give. It was minty, refreshing, but also ash-like, the same way a fire at a chimney would aromatize the house. So characteristic, yet so odd; so foreign, yet so familiar. He had opened in such a short time a tiny space in my life and heart, and I would forever be grateful for the effort he was putting on protecting me without asking for anything in exchange.

Nearly a half an hour later I heard the sound of keys opening the front door. The rusty dragging of shoes who are being taken off and the shuffling that followed lead the host to the kitchen without a single glance towards my direction, serving himself a glass of water and sighing in between as if he hadn’t drunk water in a year. I noticed the wrinkles in his hero suit, as well as some of the fabric that came unstitched, showing his beaten skin. His hair was a mess, red and white jointed in the middle, the same way it would as if a separation between both had never existed.

My eyes continued to roam, fixing on his arms, especially on the one holding the glass, flexing beautifully and showing his prominent muscles every time he lifted it to his red and plump lips, swallowing and provoking his Adam’s apple to move up and down that svelte neck―

“Hello.” The deep voice of the pro-hero startled me out of my own spell, sight falling on his neutral face, quickly checking his lower back resting slightly against the countertop to return to his mismatched eyes.

“Hi.” I answered with the little voice I could find, I felt mortified, but Todoroki was acting as if I had not been, in fact, devouring him with my eyes just a few seconds ago. ‘For Lord’s sake, Y/n, you’re getting married in less than a month.’ “How was your morning?”

“Busy,” Shoto moved away from his previous position, grabbed another glass from the upper cupboard and came straight to the table I was at, placing both glasses on it. That was my call to start moving to set the table as well as the food, which only needed to be heated in the microwave, “we had a case.”

“Yeah, you told me so this morning,” I nodded, placing two napkins and two pairs of chopsticks on the table, “What was it about?” I put the tupper inside the microwave, waiting by the countertop for it to finish.

“Nothing serious, they could have handled it without me.” He sounded frustrated, I could pick that up from his irritated tone, “I don’t think I was necessary at all.”

“Why?” I furrowed my brows, confused. Shoto walked around the table and sat on his respective place, passing a hand down his face and looking up again.

The continuous beeping of the electronic device brought my attention to the food, which I poured in two different plates. Once I looked in front of me to get to the table I noticed it, him, looking right through me.

Shoto’s eyes held an intensity that I had not seen since the night I had to leave my apartment; and yet, the feelings behind them were definitely not the same. I couldn’t interpret it for the love of everything that was holy, but I knew I had probably stared at him the same way just a few minutes before. How intriguing to see two eyes so different hold the same gaze, so beautifully wild.

He observed me coming closer and didn’t tear his eyes away not even when I had already sat down at the table, both our plates in front of us. For the first time, I felt nervous around him; not in a bad way, though his stare was giving me goosebumps. I needed to distract him from me, or me from him, whatever came first. “Why?” I repeated, waiting patiently for his answer, even if my mind I was short-circuiting.

Just the same as me, his face looked surprised, as if awaken from a dream in plain daylight. His eyes opened wide for less than what a sigh lasts, and then, his neutral façade came back. “Why what?” he asked innocently, such a contrast to his previous behaviour.

“Why didn’t they need you?”

“Oh,” he nodded, swallowing and taking a sip of water before speaking again, coughing a little, “The villain wasn’t that much of a threat, the sidekicks could have taken care of it.” He shrugged his shoulders and started eating.

“Maybe they wanted you to work on something else that isn’t as boring as this.” I joked signalling me and his house, to which he lifted a brow in return.

“You’re not boring.” He simply said and, before I could try to explain my take, he continued talking, “This case is way more important than a fake prophet.”

“What? A prophet?”

“Yes.” Shoto passed his hand down his face once again and sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose, “He was talking about the new era of villains and the blood of the revolution and shit like that. He was a lunatic, but not difficult to catch. They really didn’t need me on this one.”

“Oh, wow! The new era of villains? What the hell?” I asked, placing down my glass of water and feeling a chill ran down my spine.

“He was a mad man, Y/n, don’t listen to that.” The pro-hero continued eating.

I would have left it there, not really knowing what else to say to him even if I wanted more details, but the nonstop shifting in his legs told me something wasn’t right. Shoto was a very still person, never moved more than what was necessary at the table, so seeing him so active while having lunch was no less than suspicious.

“Shoto, are you okay?” I asked, what gained me the heterochromatic eyes falling on my worried façade. No words were exchanged, he just gifted me a nod of the head and kept on munching on his food. “Is there any reason why you still have your hero suit on?”

With that, he suddenly stopped, looked down at him as if surprised that I, indeed, was right about his attire, and looked back up. He shook his head, cheeks puffed like those of a squirrel and painted in a soft pink. As adorable as he looked, it worried me his strange behaviour; so laid back, messy.

The small drop of sweat that was falling from his forehead to his temple alerted me that something else was going on at the moment. But what? What could make the number three hero so nervous? He continued munching until he swallowed all the food on his mouth, and then, he spoke:

“Not really. It’s just― I was hungry, really hungry. I forgot.” Even if it was true, the slight stutter gave away his real state; definitely he was hiding something.

“Shoto, has something else happened at work?”

“No!” he exclaimed, eyes wide and shaking his head, “Not at all, just that. They could have taken care of it without me, really.”

“You’ve already said that.” I furrowed my brows, looking at him, scrutinizingly. “Will you tell me, please? You look nervous and―”

“Izuku told me to tell you that he wanted you to call him.” He interrupted me. It took me by surprise, not really processing what he had just said. Izuku? When did he say that?

“Huh?” I blinked once, twice, mouth opened and brain not functioning.

“He called you the other day, you had left your phone in the living room. We talked and he asked me to tell you that, but I forgot. I’m sorry.” He rumbled rapidly, and if I hadn’t understood what he had just said, I would have definitely believe he talked in another language, maybe simlish.

But now that I thought about it, it was true I hadn’t talked to my fiancée in a couple of days. Everything going on with moving to Shoto’s apartment, working from home, not being able to talk much to my friends… Oh, how I missed being in the presence of my girls. And Izuku had probably been so busy that the poor man didn’t have time to call, either.

“Oh,” was the only thing I could say, flabbergasted. “I will, thank you.”

Shoto just nodded. Before I could regain the thread of the previous conversation, Shoto took his plate and glass, put them in the dishwasher and left the room without a single word. ‘What the hell have just happened?’ I thought, shaking my head and trying to find an explanation to his behaviour. That morning, when he left, he was fine. What happened at work?

The sun had already gone to sleep, leaving a big space in the sky for the moon to make its appearance. Shoto hadn’t talked to me the rest of the afternoon, not even at evening, because he decided to have dinner by his own in his bedroom. I couldn’t understand his reasoning, I didn’t remember anything that could have hurt his feelings or offended him.

What I did do was call Izuku. It had been a rather awkward conversation; he sounded so tired and I was too trapped in my mind to pay attention to the details about his case he was telling me about. I blamed the translations of that day, activating my quirk for such a long period of time affected me too much. Nonetheless, hearing his voice made me feel a little better.

It was a pretty warm evening, August was being hell if I had to be honest, so I decided to go out to the small balcony on Shoto’s living room. I brought a bottle of wine, a wineglass and my phone to listen to some music while I observed the busy life of the city.

The cars almost shut down the sound of the wine pouring into the glass, and by the almighty noise of the horns, it looked like someone decided to run a red traffic light. Taylor Swift among traffic, the musical. I laughed at my own lame joke, the voice of the songwriter murmuring about a love that was there, left and then came back; sounded a lot like the Lord of the Rings if you thought about it: there and back again, a journey where you are in one place, leave, and you come back. Maybe she should just write the soundtrack for the next movies and―

“Hey.” Shoto’s deep voice interrupted my train of thought and startled me to the point of my wine deciding to colour my pyjamas with a maroon tone. “Oh, uh, forgive me. I’ll go get some napkins―”

“It’s fine.” I replied, looking back at the entrance of the balcony and smiling slightly towards him. “I needed to, eh, refresh.”

“I see.” He said, nodding his head, confusion cleared in his eyes. He stood at the doorway, looking at the ground and, after a small clearing of the throat, he asked: “What are you doing outside?”

It was cute, the way he tried to make small talk even if he was unable to hold it, even after spending half the day without directing a single glance towards my way. “It’s a good evening, you know? I wanted to enjoy the weather.”

“Right.” Shoto nodded again, swallowing hard and, for the first time in that brief interaction, looking at me. “Do you mind if I join?”

“Not at all.”

With indecisive steps, he approached the chair next to mine and sat down, placing his hands on his knees and observing the same traffic I had been admiring for the last ten minutes. There was silence, just the ambient sound and Taylor’s voice filling it and waving around the two of us. At least, until I decided to break it.

“Are you going to tell me what happened at work?”

My question took him by surprise, as his eyes widened and his breathing shrank to the point of non-existence. I could appreciate a drop of sweat coming down his temple as his hands started to tremble.

“Shoto?” I asked again, brows furrowed and chest constricting at his obvious distress.

“I didn’t want to tell you.” He whispered, swallowing hard one more time, his Adam’s apple moving up and down.

“What is it? Is it about me?”

Shoto nodded his head and sighed, closing his eyes, he seemed to be trying to calm himself. It was strange to see Shoto losing his cool, he had been behaving strangely all day and I was quite worried about him. Knowing that I had something to do with it made my heart skip a beat. That's why I didn't want any of Izuku's friends to get involved in the case.

“We found some letters back at your apartment.”

My blood ran cold. Well, that was definitely something I had not expected to hear that night. My mouth was dry, my throat held a knot and my stomach was warning the floor of the balcony of an impeding change of decoration.

“… And?” I asked with little voice.

“I’m not going to tell you what they say, if that’s what you wanted to know.” He answered sternly. “But they were, um, they were written with blood.”

“Cow’s?” I questioned.

“No.” Shoto looked up at the sky and passed a hand down his hair, messing it all up more. “No, L/n, it was Jim Bubaigawara’s blood.”

“I― What― Who?”

“He was a member of the League of Villains, maybe you know him by the name of Twice.” My brows lifted at the information; I was too curious to realize how scared I really was.

“But, wasn’t Twice dead? Like, Hawks killed him, right? Ten years ago, isn’t it?” I started rumbling, more to centre myself than to get answers from Shoto. “How is it written with his blood? How do you get blood from someone who is dead? Who has been dead for ten years, to say the least. Unless he isn’t dead. Is he? Is Twice alive? Shoto, please―”

“Y/n.” that tone again, so stern, so manly and deep, it made me close my mouth immediately. “Twice is dead, we know that for sure.” I breathed again, but my relief lasted less than a sigh. “Last time someone got blood from Twice it was my brother’s doing, but we asked him and he knows nothing about this. I mean, he has no contact with the surviving League’s members.”

Would I dare to ask? The warm evening suddenly took a turn to a snowy morning of winter, it all felt so cold and misty and dead. August disappeared so December could strike in the middle of Summer, and I was the only one living the freezing wind coming from the clouds only I could see.

“We don’t know who is doing this, but they are getting bolder. They are leaving clues without wanting to, this was obviously a mistake from their part.” Shoto turned his whole body and, surprisingly, leaned towards me and pressed both his hands on my shoulders. His eyes were so serious and determined that I couldn’t take my gaze away from them, too absorbed by the way he was looking at me. I could feel his breathe on my lips, it was bizarre, cold and hot at the same time. “We’ll get them, they’ll go to prison and you’ll be safe and sound. You are safe with me, okay?” I nodded and he nodded back, sighing through his nostrils. “I didn’t want to tell you because it was too much to take in, but you’re a brave woman, and intelligent, and I underestimate you every single time in case the information we get breaks you. I know it’s scary, but I assure you whoever is making you feel so small is going to pay for it.”

I was speechless. Shoto's heterochromatic eyes stared directly into mine with the same intensity as they had earlier in the day when he looked at me at lunch time. I could feel the blood rising to my cheeks, so warm it could compete with the predictions for the next day’s temperature. My heart was beating a mile a minute, I wasn't sure if it was from fear or from Shoto's sudden closeness.

“I trust you.” I whispered, my breathe fading into his lips, which were opened due to his rapid breathing.

“Thank you.” He said.

We stood like that, in that same position, for a few minutes. Maybe we just needed some reassurance, or some human warmth, but either way, I was comfortable. Shoto’s presence was unique, so intimidating, imposing and dangerous, but also so delicate, calm and sweet. I smiled at him with a saddened expression; I was still scare. However, I knew Shoto would protect me, he had been doing so for almost two weeks and had proved his well-known ability.

The music was still playing in the background, it was almost like an omen, something none of us understood yet, though we had started to feel without realizing it was happening.

“What song is that?” Shoto murmured, smiling back at me.

“Sad Beautiful Tragic.” I answered.

“What is it about?” One of Shoto’s hands went up my shoulder, to my neck, and landed gently with a caress on my left cheek.

“Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“I hate that guy.” I let out a small laugh and wrapped myself in the coolness of his right hand.

“Who doesn’t?” It was his turn to laugh, a high pitch sound that was so melodic and funny at the same time. And that was how our night ended, with a song too sad and too romantic to be about us, or so we thought, because his hand never left my cheek and my breath never stopped caressing his velvety lips, listening to a fate so distant and so abstract that we forgot that there were 20 days left until August ended.

Tag list: @shoutocakie @kisskissshutmydoor @stxrrielle @motzgurke @hanzyyme @ashleyandanxiety

© Hajimeiwaswife 2022 | All rights reserved. Do not copy, repost or translate. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

[amive2567]

A/N: So this piece is for Meg. It turned out a bit cheesy, and you're nickname is thunderbird, hopefully you don't cringe.

Why:

you both bonded through the knowledge of astrology and your love for classic literature

he enjoys how similar you are to each other and that he doesn’t have to change for you, and he feels so comfortable with you

He will be the most loyal and kindes boyfriend you ever had/will have 

He is a hopeless romantic and will make you feel like the queen you are

he admires how you always bail people out of their stupid shit

Your short story:

The rain pounded on your window. You watched the droplets chase each other down to the windowsill. The book on your lap was completely forgotten by now since Tokoyami scratched your scalp and calmed you down. "My thunderbird, you truly look lovely this evening" he whispered in your ear. You chuckled. "I wear my sweatpants and a hoodie, my makeup is removed and my hair is messy. How can I be pretty?" Tokoyami locked at you in shock and shook his head. "Beloved, you always look stunning to me. I truly fell for you." Your cheeks heated up, and you hid your face behind your book. "Please stop it." If you were ice, you would've probably melted. He stopped scratching your scalp and went on to braid your ponytail.

After some moments of quietness, you jolted up. "We haven't been to the planetarium in ages, right?" Your bird boyfriend was so startled that he was only able to nod. You jumped up, changed your clothes immediately, collected your purse, and put on your shoes. "You want to go now?" he asked, a little bit dense. "Yes of course. Now get going the last performance is in half an hour." you hurried. He rushed to get ready, so you were able to catch the last performance.

"What made you think of going to the planetarium?" he asked while you were running to the station. "We haven't been there in ages, and since we were so occupied with school, I thought I would take you out on a date. A spontaneous one." You wheezed. Your hero-boyfriend was capable of running this far, but you were just a computer scientist with little endurance. The train could already be seen, and Tokoyami sprinted foreward to keep the door open for you. Exhausted, you stepped into the vehicle, the door immediately closed, and you drove off.

Tokoyami sprinted to the entrance and booked the last tickets for the evening performance. "Have a nice time!" chirped the lady at the counter. You joined your boyfriend at the entrance, and you both entered the performance just in time. "The universe, endless expanses, were always fascinating in today's performance we want to introduce you to the origin and the planet and stars. Now lean back and enjoy." The room grew dark, and you began to cuddle into each other. "It all began with the Big Bang, 13.8 billion years ago…." You focussed on the huge fireball in the air as Tokoyami whispered into your ear. "It doesn't matter to me how the universe originated. I just know that you are my universe."

Your special something: 🎧 A Playlist: Your relationship with Tokoyami Fumikage 🎧

[lonestardust]

happy nice ask day!!! ahh okay so i’m a little over because it’s past midnight here but i just want to say i love your takes and your posts and your francesca tarlos video truly lives in my mind 24/7. any other video edits you’d consider making to other songs? what are some of your favourite tarlos-coded songs? any lone star headcanons you want to share? - maddie/reyesstrand <333

MADDIE @reyesstrand 💞😖 YOU ARE THE ABSOLUTE SWEETEST OKAY. literally right back at you!! I'm forever in awe of your takes and your words and how you articulate and understand so surgically the development of carlos and tk's relationship and express it through and through in your posts and in your fics. also the fact that you have been here since the get-go is so fascinating and crazy to me like YOU'RE ONE OF THE VETERANS!!!!

I get so 🥺 whenever you reblog that edit truly <3 and yesss. I've found myself lately noticing themes of grief, family bonds and unconditional love in songs so I've been thinking of making a carlos centric edit or/and maybe an artwork where it's a collection of visuals with lyrics to combine all of these corresponding lyrics.

2) ohhh my tarlos playlist is endless truly (seriously need to import it to a famous music app so i could have a link to share) but here are some favourite staples in my tarlos playlist

High Hope — Patrick Droney

Know you're coming from a bad place Honey, I was there just yesterday So I know the time it's gonna take For you to feel like you again Wonder if you're seeing colours yet And if your spirit needs a tourniquet 'Cause if it does I can hold you tight enough Help you forget 'em for a minute, love. I know you got a heart of gold You wear it like an olden rose

these lyrics are just straight out of carlos' mouth to season 1 tk AND the line where he says he'd hold him so tight if his spirit needs a tourniquet is soooosjsksk it's so carlos with tk i CAN'T

Safe — BANNERS

Climbing and falling tied up in the rhymes and reasons No city, no spaces, no oceans can stand between us When it gets heavy, sometimes I've got doubts And I'm just trying keep these shadows out I've been thinking myself to death You're calling me home like a ship that got wrecked I know there's always a place for you and I A place where every word that you say, can save my life Where nothing hurts and nothing breaks I'll know it when I see your face I'm safe.

When the rivers are rising, I'm safe When I look in your eyes, I'm safe

these lyrics are just so simple and truthful and the song is like this big dramatic loud ballad that's so powerful and and resolute in wanting to tell your person that they're your safe heaven on earth and it's so so tarlos coded :')

Julia Michaels – Little Did I Know

THE SOULMATISM AND S1 TK OF IT ALL *weeps* i love this one so much

3) oh oh my favourite headcanon atm is that tk sometimes sneaks out at night to their building's rooftop (they have access to it) to listen to music and have some solitude and fresh air (he used to sit on fire escapes at night back in nyc a lot) and one time carlos suddenly panics in the middle of the night when he called for tk and the silence in the loft was deafening at 2 in the morning, he rushes to call him and some relief washes over him when tk's quiet voice is on the other end of the line. he eventually joins him up there after telling tk that he scared the hell out of him and tk apologising saying he didn't want to wake him up after a long shift. But he's up now and he made sure to bring a jacket for tk because he knows him too well, how he'd argue he's fine when it's chilly outside then immediately regret not bringing a jacket and carlos (gladly) always ending up giving him his own and he rubs tk's arms and shoulders to warm him up :')

also carlos is scared of heights and he hasn’t told a soul 👀

[acertainmoshke]

Happy STS, Moshke!

It's always character playlist that— which lyrics best describe your oc this— What I want to know is which one of your ocs is most likely to randomly burst out into song for no reason? Can they actually sing or are they happily shouting off key? What song would they be singing during such a show tunes moment? How would the rest of the ocs react?

Also this is for TDATS, what do you do/how do you get into different character's perspectives?

-HD

Thanks, HD, I love both of these questions so much!!

For the first one, I feel like there are Levels. In Cold Iron (since the second question will be TDATS), Shaka sing-narrates under their breath as they do stuff but would rather get stabbed (again) than sing aloud. Kris and Harry both burst into song randomly just because they can. Kris can actually sing and has a rich velvety voice; Harry very much cannot and no one is sure if he doesn't know this or doesn't care. Anyway, Kris never sings in the shower for fear of embarrassment if someone is listening (despite openly singing various older radio tunes at other inopportune times). Harry definitely sings in the shower, and he prefers musical soundtracks. Everyone else mostly giggles and vows never to tell him just how bad he is at it.

The perspectives thing for more than one character within a narrative has actually always been hard for me. In TDATS specifically, I cheated a little by making two of them distinctive in ways that are unavoidable--Pixel focuses a lot on their sensory world and misses a lot of the verbal and interpersonal moments that most characters would describe, and Ri is very much in his head, counting things, focusing on the static or lack thereof, slipping away from the solid reality around him and thus forgetting words and events. That sounds complicated but it actually made my job easier, because then I could just look at the story from Zippy's POV as in a regular limited narrator voice. Maybe that's why I have so much trouble with peppermint; they're the extra, who has had weird experiences but should narrate in a fairly standard voice and I wasn't sure where else to go with it. The main narrative difference between Peppermint and Zippy is that Zippy is focused on people, relationships, and emotions, and Peppermint has been taught those don't matter so they focus on knowledge and observation.

Short examples of each voice beneath the cut

Pixel:

Hot and bright and BIG. Pixel hopped out of the train and squinted. Their skin felt too big in the heat. Through the shimmering heat and glaring sun, they could just make out endless dusty land. Trees and bushes dotted the desert and the tracks cut through it, but otherwise the world was empty. Pixel’s hands twisted in their new green tunic. Their bare toes wiggled down into the hot sand. This was wrong, not how the world was. Like a planet up in space. 

Pixel squinted up. The greenish sky was less hazy than at home.

Ri:

In the back of his mind, Ri never stopped calculating through the static. He knew the wind speed from the way the “tree” (really it was an antenna) waved out the window. He counted how many puzzle pieces they had. He counted the ceiling tiles and calculated the area of the room. When he ran out of things he could see, he ran random calculations to see how long complicated square roots and six-step problems would take him. 

Maybe later, after the puzzles, he would try reading again. The Center wanted to better people, to heal them, and there were always screens available. Every now and then he would try reading and rediscover how uninteresting stories of human lives were without strings of data to keep him focused. 

Zippy:

Zippy liked going out. She really did. The air was better downtown where the cafés were. Sira had always had a way of making the worst parts of life seem like silly inconveniences. It was nice just to be somewhere that wasn’t her pod. It was the getting there and back parts that she didn’t like. She wasn’t hurting too much today, but her progress was always slow. It didn’t matter how cool she thought her cane was with its elaborate drawings and other decorations, it didn’t make the stares she got any more comfortable. Her entire body felt tense, waiting for the punch of “But she’s so young.”

Peppermint:

Peppermint could feel their fur bristling as they sat on the concrete hanger floor later that day, the group squeezed between rows of identical ships. Void would listen. Void had always listened, could not really do anything else, so Peppermint never really had to. They let the cadence wash over them—they finally had a different presenter, one who was more melodic than monotone—and looked around the hanger, more carefully than they’d been able to last time. 

Rows of identical ships. Yes, they all looked exactly the same. Peppermint wasn’t an expert in ships, or technology of any kind, but they were very good at observation. There wasn’t a single noticeable difference between them. Something tickled the back of their brain.

[amoveablejake]

Album of the Week: ‘Can’t Buy a Thrill’ by Steely Dan

Stand out song: ‘Only a Fool Would Say That’.

At the very beginning of 2021, on those cold January days that seemed to be swallowed up endless downpours (ofcourse I wasn’t complaining about that) I stumbled across the band Steely Dan and fell in love with them almost instantly. I say almost instantly because really, it wasn’t the first time I’d come across the band. I had previously been given a ‘Pretzel Logic’ record that had been spinning on my record player a great deal but for some reason it never really clicked who the band were. I enjoyed the album seemingly in isolation. That period of isolation ended in ironically the lockdowns and Steely Dan became one of my key bands. Their songs being a fixture on my roster. I remember writing back in the early days of 2021 that Steely Dan were shaping up to be my artist of the year even at that early point and that 2021 looked like it was going to be the year of Steely Dan. And yes, 2021 was the year of Steely Dan but only to a certain extent as it was also the year of Vince Guaraldi, the year of Dan Mason and according to the Spotify Wrapped for that year, the year of Daft Punk. After 2021, I seemed to step away from Steely Dan and I’m really not sure why. I would still listen to the odd song but I wasn’t playing them all the time like I had been. Again, no reason as to why this was it was just one of those things that happened. And really, now, I am happy that is what happened. They needed to fall behind so that when I returned to them that reunion meant all the more. 

It isn’t often that I let Spotify keep playing once I come to the end of an album or a playlist as there is usually something else queued up but last week the Spotify radio gods delivered ‘Only a Fool Would Say That’ to me and from the moment I heard its opening I knew Steely Dan were making their return. Its funny, the last time I had ‘Can’t Buy a Thrill’ on all of the time, ‘Only a Fool Would Say That’ was by no means my stand out. It wasn’t really on my radar as ‘Dirty Work’ and ‘Reelin’ In the Years’ eclipsed everything else. I’m glad that this time around with the album there is a new track that I am constantly playing and being drawn back to. It makes the whole record feel new and different. It is nice that it feels different, that this is as much a rediscovery as it is a reunion but also I like that its the same ol Steely Dan record that I’m returning to. Their sound as a band immediately started to flow through me again as I melted back into this album and reignited the love for the band that spread throughout 2021. It was never as if they were off the roster, but maybe they did fall down the pecking order for a little while but now, you better believe they are back to the home plate and they’re hitting home run after home run. 

I am often finding new things that I end up liking quite a bit or falling head over heels for. New places, new books, new films, new songs and new albums that I can’t get enough of as they worm their way into my head. The thing is though, there are some other things that I really need to have with me all the time. They are the key things that help to make up me. I always have my notebook with me, whatever notebook that may be. I always have some sort of photo taking thing with me again, whatever that may be. Then ofcourse, there are some things that I am always returning to, books by John Grisham, the music of Eiko Ishibashi and daydreams of the mountains of Whistler to name but a few. I draw a lot from knowing that these things are there and by my side. Knowing that some things don’t change and keep on sticking with you to act as anchors in the day to day. Returning to Steely Dan feels a lot like that, perhaps I needed the time away from their music so that when I returned, I would realise how much they mean to me. I think Joni Mitchell sung something along those lines (that is a joke, please don’t get angry with me). When I said back in the early days of 2021 that the year was shaping up to be the year of Steely Dan, I was wrong. Oh so wrong. I hadn’t stepped back far enough to see that it wasn’t only 2021 that was going to be the year of Steely Dan but rather the future is Steely Dan along with the other key artists on my roster. My key lineup that having by my side means a great to me and Steely Dan are absolutely a firm fixture of that.

Only a fool wouldn’t say that. 

-Jake, a man very happy with the ‘Last of Us’ finale, 13/03/2023.