#I drew this during camp and all the kids were watching me

[guess-i-do-art]

Anyone else have multiple art styles? Because I do

[sayoneee]

☆ POISON

“miss her, kiss her, love her, wrong move you’re dead, that girl is poison” - bell biv devoe (2.2k)

contains: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite! reader. acquaintances to friends to secretish lovers. silena + drew mentions. during tlt.

kashaf’s note: u cant tell me a group of teenagers lived together at summer camp and no one had secret parties. dont @ me for the 90s music references (+ i imagine avantika vandanapu as silena, and momona tamada as drew)

i. and if there was a problem / yo, i'll solve it

“CASTELLAN?” YOU APPROACHED him slowly, tone cautious as if you were speaking to a wounded animal, although in this case, maybe you were, as you reached for his bruised knuckles, remaining persistent, even as he tried to withdraw his hands out of your grasp. “why’d you do that?”

“did i need a reason?” there is a forced jocularity to his words, a well-practiced mask he is never seen without, and you cringe slightly, your gaze catching the grimace that twists his lips. his attempt at a ‘roguish’ grin falls flat, the expression a discordant note against the backdrop of his injuries. luke’s already busted lip splits open, a thin line of crimson carving a river down his chin. he moves to wipe it off the back of his arm, but you’ve already pulled off the bandana tying up your hair (a birthday present from a half-sibling) and begun rubbing at his face.

luke’s eyes widened at the gesture.

despite being tentative acquaintances since your arrival, you’re still annoyed that luke castellan continues to underestimate just how much of his heart he wears on his sleeve — or rather, just how well you manage to see past his facade. his blatant lie hangs in the air, unacknowledged. instead, you deliberately shift your gaze to the purples and blacks that mar his knuckles, setting about wrapping them with your bandana, obscuring the damage.

“i could’ve done that myself,” luke says, amused, his words lightly appreciative. still, at your answering glare, he tosses his hands in the air in surrender as ‘ice ice baby’ continues in the background, uninterrupted, “but thank you, though.”

“i’m no apollo kid, but it’ll do,” you shrug instead of accepting the gratitude, tugging him to his feet, ensuring to grab his uninjured hand, and hauling him outside. 

“you’re no apollo kid, and you decide to take the injured man away from where the apollo kids are actually gathered,” luke muses, once again entertained with himself (was there any other emotion this boy could experience besides amusement?), once the lights of the apollo cabin are so far behind you, neither of you could fully see each other.

“you’ll live,” you say, scowling at him through the darkness, forgetting he couldn’t actually see you.

“and you’re moody for a daughter of aphrodite,” he says, still holding onto your hand as he trails after you.

you stop in your tracks, pinch the bridge of your nose, count to three, and finally turn to luke, who still has his stupidly pleased-with-himself expression on his face. “luke castellan, if you don’t end up dying of some tragic fate or the other i will hunt you down myself.”

“duly noted.”

“holy hera, do you even want to know where i’m taking you?”

“nah, i think the mystery really adds some suspense.”

“that’s it, i give up,” you say, before beginning to drag him back to the apollo cabin, when he plants his feet in the dirt ground firmly, grinning crookedly at you as the moonlight finally shines through the clouds, suddenly bathing him in a luminescent glow.

“nah, c’mon, let’s go to your spot.”

you glare at him, watching how his stupid grin only seems to grow in size, an annoyingly endearing trait. with a sigh, you continued to drag him along, scowling each time he tried to make a quip.

“what if we get to your spot, and i find out this was all just a ploy to murder me?” luke muses out loud, looking thoughtful for once.

“do you seriously believe that if i was gonna murder you, i wouldn’t have done it by now?” you say, pausing when he shrugged in agreement, “we’re here though, whiney baby.” 

luke’s eyebrows rose as he took in the secluded area near the dunes, finally meeting your gaze again. “aw, i can’t believe you just planned out our first date.”

“i seriously don’t know what any of my half-siblings see in you.”

“so you’ve discussed me then.”

“shut up, i dragged you all the way here, because even though i know you like attention, i don’t think you wanted the attention you were getting from punching that poor hephaestus kid in the jaw,” you say shockingly sincerely, startling both yourself and luke.

luke doesn’t say anything, letting what seems like a confession hang in the air, instead, sits down near the water, and rubs a hand across his jaw, watching you as you follow suit, sitting next to him. 

after spending what seems like minutes in silence, watching the waves lap at the shore, luke finally speaks, staring out at the horizon, his tone slightly hollow, and devoid of all things you have come to label as luke castellan, looking eerily similar to the night he had returned from his infamous quest, “heroes aren’t meant to be happy.”

you drew your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your head. “i know — achilles, orpheus, theseus…” you trail off.

“and hercules,” luke adds, almost melancholy. 

“i think i’ve pretty much accepted i’ll die young,” you say, your words coming out in nothing but a whisper despite the two of you being alone.

luke nods in solidarity, lost in thought. “it shouldn’t have to be like this,” he finally says, voice hardening.

ii. talking sweet and looking fine / i get kinda hectic inside

“okay, for this technique, i’ll need a partner,” luke says, looking straight at you. “can you come up here?”

deciding to oblige him, you rolled your eyes good-naturedly, smiling as you joined him in front of the other campers, who had begun whispering when he called out to you. in the crowd, just past your half-siblings looks of shock, you can see the stolls passing around a wad of cash. 

luke addresses the crowd once more, “i need everyone to be paying close attention here, we’ll be demonstrating how to parry, or counterblock for the newcomers.”

as both of you get into position, luke smiles, “don’t forget to go easy on me.”

you laughed, “don’t bet on it, castellan.”

your demonstration ends up feeling like eons, as the two of you continue to dance around each other, parrying and jabbing, and lunging, and striking, and parrying. both of you are panting, your faces flushed as you continue, and just when it seems like you have the upper hand, luke side steps, and easily parries your finishing blow, disarming you in the process.

you laugh as you yield, loving the exhilaration from the fight, but when the two of you face the campers once more, more than half of the crowd is slack-jawed. 

luke, ever the showman, can’t resist a grin, “not only was that your lesson to not underestimate aphrodite cabin, but also to show you the level we’re trying to get you guys to. now, partner up and spread out.”

before you can turn back to address luke again, drew is suddenly at your side. 

“what the fuck was that?” drew hisses, grasping your elbow and leading you away from the training session in full swing, pulling you into your cabin, where silena sits on your bed (still in her armor), clearly awaiting this impromptu confrontation.

“what was what?” you choose to feign innocence, examining your nails before glancing up to see the twin expressions of horror on both silena and drew’s faces. 

“do not act dumb,” drew eyes you coolly, “it’s so beneath you.”

“i’m not acting dumb,” you rolled your eyes at the both of them.

“yes you —”

“you and castellan,” silena interjects, “we want details, now.”

“what details even are there to give?”

silena grabs drew’s arm, pulling her back from apparently nearly pouncing on you. 

drew rolls her eyes at the hand on her arm, and then focuses on you, “you’re literally our next head counselor and you and castellan had never so much looked at each other until this week and now he’s asking you to help demonstrate training techniques, like hello?”

silena snapped her fingers in agreement, “c’mon, you can’t deny that something didn’t happen.”

“nothing did,” you crossed your arms across your chest.

“you know what,” drew says, “if you wanna be like this fine. come find me when you finally decide to — i don’t know — talk to your sisters?” she storms out of the cabin, leaving you alone with silena, who sighs, gives you an apologetic look and goes after drew. 

“well, that was a shit show.”

you whirl around to see your head counselor standing at the entry of the cabin, poised as ever, not a hair out of place as she stood, examining her manicure, looking bored, as usual. 

“couldn’t agree more,” you sigh, sitting on your bed, head in your hands. 

your head counselor takes a seat beside you, “look, i don’t care for whatever petty drama just unfolded, you’ll get over it, daughters of aphrodite and all,” she waves a hand in the air, “— but for now, we have more pressing issues. i’m gonna leave for college soon, and the entire cabin knows you’re my successor.”

you nod as she paused, meeting your gaze, and you can’t help but examine the perfect shape of her eyeliner, scanning her entire picture-perfect face in an attempt to discern her mood.

“i don’t care whatever it is you have going on with castellan, but you need to complete the rite of passage, before you become head counselor.”

“the rite of passage?” you asked, having only heard the phrase in hushed conversations around camp, the knot in your stomach tightening as she continued.

“no child of aphrodite is a true child of aphrodite without having broken their first love’s heart,” is all she offers as an explanation, completely straight-faced. “castellan is perfect for your rite of passage.”

your eyebrows furrow as you consider her words, and with a final nod, and gentle squeeze of your arm, she leaves you with both her legacy and your mother’s legacy in your hands. 

“oh, and before i forget, whoever doesn’t do it always ends up cursed.”

iii. now let me pray to keep you from / the perils that will surely come

luke’s shoulder brushing against yours has turned out to be extremely distracting, and now you can understand why your cabin is more notorious for breaking hearts, rather than falling in love. you can’t seem to focus on anything except how close his hand is to yours, even the golden hue of the fire or the sing-alongs can’t divert your attention. 

the distance between the two of you grows imperceptibly smaller when luke suddenly clears his throat, on the verge of saying something, when a twig snaps behind the two of you, causing you to jump apart and look at the intruder. 

annabeth is standing behind the two of you, looking faintly apologetic, but also terrified. “sorry if i interrupted you guys,” she offers, rubbing her arm.

you share a glance with luke, nodding at him. “you weren’t — luke can always talk to me later,” you say, offering her your trademark smile.

annabeth nodded, “thank you,” as luke gently squeezed your hand before getting up to comfort her.

“don’t thank me, sweetheart.”

you’re at your usual spot when luke rejoins you, running a hand through his curls. “sorry,” he says, “someone left a spider in athena cabin, and no one could kill it.”

you chuckled, “if it wasn’t a total accident, i’d bet money it was travis and connor.”

the corner of his mouth quirks up at the mention of his siblings, “i think you’re spending too much time around them to pick up on their habits.”

“or maybe, i’m spending too much time around you,” you offer, smirking at him, trying to ignore the funny feeling in your chest as he smiles genuinely at you.

“i like to say i’m an acquired taste,” luke shrugs, sneaking a glance at you as you laugh at him. 

“i think i’ve acquired that taste,” you say, without thinking, before realizing how phenomenally stupid that sounded.

luke smiled widely, “y’know, if you weren’t a daughter of aphrodite, i would’ve told you how corny that was —” you shoved him here, “— ow, let me finish, but i actually am really glad to hear that.”

“no wonder,” you smirked, “i can practically hear your heart beating out of your chest.”

“okay, look who’s confident all of a sudden.”

you shut him up with a soft kiss that has him seeing stars. 

iv. i know what’s weighing on your mind / you can be sure i know my part

“again, what the hell is going on with you and castellan?” silena asks one early morning before breakfast, birds chirping as she’s lining her eyes with kajal, glancing at the mirror in her hand as she sits at the top of her bed.

“nothing.”

“i literally saw you guys making out and had to scrub my eyes out with soap,” drew adds, looking extremely disgusted at the thought of relieving that experience, as she paints a fresh coat of nail polish. 

“fine, you’re right,” you concede, curling your eyelashes. 

“don’t you have to do the rite of passage, though?” drew asks, pausing to look up at you.

“i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you say slowly, setting the eyelash curler down on the vanity.

“excuse me?” your head counselor has her hands on her hips, the annoyed expression on her face marring her perfect features, towering over you as she stands in front of your bed.

“i said, i’m not doing the rite of passage,” you enunciate, looking up at her, maintaining eye contact.

the temperature of the cabin seemed to drop ten degrees, and for a minute or so, your stare remained unbroken until she shrugged. “your decision... but don’t say i didn’t warn you,” before dramatically whirling around and heading to the pavilion.

silena gave you a look as drew arched her brow, and you simply shrugged in response.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[azzibuckets]

playing fair [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: based on their alleged behavior at azzi’s camp today …

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Clang.

The ball spun slowly around the rim until it slowly tipped to the side, dropping to the ground with a disappointing thump. Azzi shook her head, a small grin on her face as she went to rebound the ball.

“And that, kids,” Paige announced, “is what you don’t do.”

“Shut up.” Azzi elbowed Paige in the ribs before turning her attention to the crowd of kids intently watching them. “I want all of you to partner up and practice the footwork I just did.”

As soon as all the campers turned their attention to finding their friends and retrieving their balls, Paige’s hands were on Azzi’s waist. Pressing up behind her, she whispered mockingly in Azzi’s ear, “Teaching them to miss shots? Their coaches will love you.”

Azzi shivered when Paige’s mouth brushed against her earlobe, the older girl’s cologne overpowering her senses. It was tempting to lean into Paige, surrendering herself to her touch, but the wary look Katie sent them forced Azzi to detach herself from Paige’s grip.

“You’re acting like you’ve never missed in your life,” Azzi scoffed, pushing the ball into Paige’s stomach and sending the blonde stumbling back.

“I don’t.” Paige bounced the ball between her legs with a smirk. Azzi shook her head and walked away, wanting to help out any campers who were confused or needed guidance. But when she felt something hit her butt, followed by two very familiar voices snickering, she turned right back around.

“God, you’re so immature,” Azzi said, eyeing her girlfriend who was high fiving Drew like she was a little kid.

“You left me! What else was I supposed to do?” Paige whined.

“You know I asked you to come in order to help with the kids, not to stare at me all day and goof around.”

Paige’s cheeks quickly colored bright red. “How’d you know I was staring?”

“Everyone knew you were staring,” Drew piped up, earning a smack to the head from his sister.

“Seriously, you aren’t slick,” Azzi chastised.

Paige grabbed the end of Azzi’s shirt, playing with the frays. “Why can’t I just stick with you?” she frowned, her face looking like a kicked puppy’s.

Azzi brushed away a strand of dyed pink hair from Paige’s face, fingertips lightly brushing her temple. “Paige.”

Paige huffed, eyes flitting away to assess the campers before fixing her gaze back on Azzi. “Fine.”

“We’ll go somewhere tonight, just the two of us,” Azzi promised. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to be stuck at the hip with her best friend, but she’d invested too much planning and time into this camp, and she wanted the kids to have a good time. Which wouldn’t be possible if her and Paige were making googly eyes at each other all day instead of actually teaching the kids.

Paige nodded reluctantly before letting Azzi walk away again, this time with a pat to the butt instead of a ball.

Paige swore she tried to help as many kids as possible, giving them quick tips to adjust their body positioning or demonstrating how to do a left-handed layup. But something about Azzi had always been addicting, making it hard for her eyes to leave Azzi’s face for more than a few seconds before inevitably going back. So who could blame her for stealing glances at Azzi from across the room when she was supposed to be listening to a camper’s question?

“I found a solution,” Paige said as she walked up to her girlfriend during the water break.

“To what?” Azzi tipped her head back to chug her water, and Paige swallowed at the flex of Azzi’s jaw. She itched to brush away the drop of water trailing its way down her girlfriend’s jaw, but she silently reminded herself that it was imperative to stay cordial.

“You can’t smile,” Paige said solemnly before stealing Azzi’s water bottle for a sip.

Azzi squinted at the older girl, confusion written all over her face. “Did all those hours flying at high altitudes fuck up your brain?”

“Dumbass.” Paige nudged the younger girl with the water bottle. “But think about it. It makes sense. I get yelled at for being distracted all the time, but you’re the one distracting me. But most of the times it’s only when you smile and shit, so if you want me to be locked in then you just gotta stop smiling.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or to call a mental institution but I’m leaning towards the latter.”

Paige grinned, the annoyed look on Azzi’s face fueling her fire like it always did. “I can’t help it,” she said, inching closer to the dark haired girl. “Not when the prettiest girl in the world is in the same room as me.”

Azzi ducked her head. “Stop being such a flirt.”

Paige conveniently let her hand drop next to Azzi’s, intentionally grazing their pinkies. “You love it.”

Azzi’s fingers flexed when Paige pulled away, itching to bridge the gap between their hands. “Nope.”

“You tryna hold my hand right now, I can feel it,” Paige said, a knowing smile spread across her lips.

“I’m tryna stop my hand from punching you in the face,” Azzi grumbled before walking away again, mostly because Paige was right and that if she was in close proximity with the blonde for any longer than she would lose all remnants of self control.

“Who’s a better shooter, you or Azzi?” Paige looked down at the little girl who had suddenly materialized by her side.

Chuckling, she kneeled down so that she was eye to eye with the kid. “What do you think?” she prodded, widening her eyes for dramatic effect.

“My friend says you’re better.” The little girl paused before sending Paige a sheepish look. “But I think Azzi’s better.”

Paige looked around, making sure the girl in question wasn’t within hearing distance, before lowering her voice like she was telling a secret. “Go tell your friend that only one of us has almost flawless shooting mechanics, and it’s not me.”

The girl beamed at Paige before running off, no doubt eager to boast to her friend. Paige chuckled before scanning the room to find Azzi again. She honestly didn’t know why she was like this, why the first thing she always did was look for Azzi among all the faces. It was almost second nature to her, something she did subconsciously. She wondered if it was healthy for her heart to pick up pace every time she laid eyes on her girlfriend. But hey, it was basically a form of cardio. Geno would be proud.

Twirling a basketball in her hand, Paige slowly counted to five before deciding that enough time had passed for her to bother Azzi again.

“Hey, can you help me with my shooting form?”

Azzi looked up over her shoulder, mid conversation with a group of kids that couldn’t have been more than nine years old.

“I think your shooting form is fine, Paige,” Azzi said with narrowed eyes, her suspicion starting to grow.

“I think it’d be good for the kids to see you fixing bad form. It’d help them with any issues they might have that they can’t see themselves,” Paige said innocently, batting her eyes.

Azzi gritted her teeth when the campers nodded along, oblivious to the entire situation. “You really think you’re funny, huh?” she whispered to the blonde, who was already in an awkward shooting stance, hand sliding up her arm to gently lift her elbow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige whispered back, eyes trained on the ball in her hands.

Azzi breathed into Paige’s neck, smirking a little to herself when she noticed the goosebumps on her skin. “Has anyone ever told you that you have attachment issues?”

“Only everyone who knows we’re dating.”

“Shoot the damn ball.”

Swish.

“What’d you say earlier about me missing?” Paige raised her eyebrows cockily.

Azzi chose not to respond, instead lifting her shirt up to wipe sweat from her forehead, smirking when she saw the effect it had on the blonde.

“You don’t play fair,” Paige complained, her stare focused on the piercing in her belly button.

“Maybe if you weren’t so down bad for me.”

Paige kicked the floor with her foot, knowing it was pointless to argue. “So what are we doing tonight?”

“It’s a surprise.” Azzi smiled wryly. “But it’ll be fun, don’t worry.”

“And we’re gonna be alone, right?”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

Paige curled her fingers around Azzi’s waist. “Good. I love our family but the house is loud as fuck.”

Azzi’s heart warmed. Our family. She could get used to that. Paige rested her forehead on Azzi’s shoulder from behind for a few seconds, basking in the warmth of her girlfriend before letting go with a sigh and backing away. “How long until camp is over?”

“Two hours.”

“Two hours til you’re all mine,” Paige said cheesily.

[rlqfpdl]

Golden Mangos

Aphrodite!Fem!Reader x Travis Stoll

Summary: after a certain incident you can’t help but start liking mangos a bit more, and maybe a certain camper as well.

Contains: fluff, characters can be ooc, usual Stoll sibling antics, some swearing, kind of cringe lines ngl

A/N: I love this small prank the stolls pull on the Aphrodite cabin and it inspired me to write this fic. Hope you guys like it. Reqs are open <3. Also I hate mangos idk what demon possessed to write a character that loves them.

Word Count: 2.5k

If there is one thing your cabin mates knew about you, it is your strong affinity for mangos–or, as Drew likes to call it ‘an extreme obsession’. Another fact was that, for some odd reason, camp didn't have mangos. Well not least you bribed a Dementer kid to grow some or got a Hermes child to bring you one from the outside. Sometimes, you would even go back home during winter break just to be able to enjoy some sweet mangos, even if they weren’t in season. Your dad always spoiled you rotten with everything, from actual mangos to mango lip gloss. So, it came to your sibling's surprise that there you were eating half a mango for breakfast. Lost in your world without a care for the burning eyes watching you. 

“How exactly did you get that?” asked Piper, munching on  her bowl of strawberries, “One of the boys from cabin 4” You replied oh so casually.

 “Y/N, you can't just use your charmspeak casually,” complained Mitchell. Unlike Piper and Drew, you tended to use your charmspeak for more trivial things. If your mother gave you a gift, it was to be used, and maybe you did use it for small things like getting out of archery or another serving of strawberry shortcake. Maybe it wasn't the best use of such power, but it came in handy, overall being blessed with beauty had its perks. 

“It's fine I was just craving some. Plus the Hermes kids haven't made their trip yet, so something had to be done,” you said, cleaning off the dripping juice. It might have been the best mango you have eaten if it weren't for your siblings shooting daggers at you. “Well, at least I'm not using my charmspeak to manipulate a cabin,” you continued. 

“It's been months, let it go, please,” said Drew, now getting slightly annoyed by you. But who could blame you? You were slightly annoyed at this conversation yourself. Couldn't a girl enjoy her mango in peace?

“Anyways we have archery practice, so don't charmspeak your way out,” said Piper, looking directly at you.

“Hey, it was like three times, I was tired,” you defended yourself, putting your hands up. Despite the occasional squabbles, you did love all your siblings. Yes, maybe you had petty fights like Valentina stealing Drew's crop top or Mitchell using Noah’s cologne. But nothing extreme. At the end of the day, the power of gossip and love united, making you a happy little family. 

So as you all enjoyed your archery class led by Kayla from the Apollo cabin, playfully pointing arrows at each other and cheering Lacy on as she hit a bullseye, you failed (more like didn't expect) to notice two mops of curly brown ran past you, making a beeline for a certain pink cabin tip-toeing in and out, leaving the object in their hands giggling at their prank. 

So, as your cabin finished the lesson and made your way for a quick break, you didn't expect to see a golden mango with ‘for the hottest’ written on it.

“Aw, I love it when people leave things for me,” said Drew, picking up said mango ready to add it to her infinite collection of love letters 

“Well it doesn't say for who it is,” said Mitchell. 

“Maybe it's for me,” said another one of your siblings. 

“I'm the hottest I don't know what you're talking about” interjected your sister.

“I was told I rival my mom's beauty,” you added.

 “She's OUR mother too,” started Piper. 

Your banter slowly turned into actual fighting, screams echoing outside the cabin as glass bottles shattered. 

“That was my only bottle left, you bitch” screamed Drew as Valentina threw her perfume to the ground. It didn't stop there, as shoes and  clothes flew out the window, landing in the mud

 “Mom gave me that belt, Mitchell,” cried one of your brothers, as said belt was now covered in gross mud, lost forever.

 “Oh my gods, why could you cut up my Miu Miu sweater? that was expensive,” you sobbed as one of your sisters started cutting up clothes nearby. 

Safe to say, the cabin was no longer the organized place that always got a 5, it looked worse than the Hermes cabin, with tattered clothes mixed with spilled makeup and perfume covering the floor. 

“What in gods name is this?” You all looked like deers caught in headlights once Chiron stepped foot in the cabin.

 “They started it,” everyone said simultaneously, pointing in different directions.

“Actually, I believe I found the perpetrators outside. Still, kitchen duty for all,” he said, galloping outside as said perpetrators peeked into the cabin 

“We did well with this one, Trav,” said conner snickering. 

“You'll pay for this Stolls'' screeched Drew. Suddenly, seventeen angry children of Aphrodite ran towards the siblings. Yes they had pulled hair and spills all over their clothes, but they didn't care about appearances at the moment, especially you, who would waste such a good mango just like that, plus you were still mad about your sweater, you had planned on wearing it for the bonfire later.

 Fortunately, some form of revenge was taken as pasty white foundation appeared on Travis's face, making him look like a clown, and Connor’s clothes instantly shrunk two sizes smaller. You would say he was rocking the crop top, but it honestly just looked funny. 

All of the cabin stood there in a circle, scowls on their faces and some laughing at the sight, as you broke through your teared-up sweater still in hand.

 “Nemesis is a bitch I guess” said one of your sisters as you threw your sweater at Travis's face. “You're lucky we’re being nice to both of you,” you said, quickly storming off back to your cabin. Now who was going to clean all of this up?

It took most of the cabin all day until dinner to clean up all the broken glass and fabric left on the floor, as well as clean some of the muddy designer shoes. 

“I'm sorry Y/N. I know you loved that sweater,” said your sister. It was more than just an extremely expensive sweater to you, your father had gifted it to you as a birthday present. It wasn't often you got to see him only during winter break on occasion. It was a small piece that tied you back home, and now it was destroyed.  

“It's fine. Maybe I could get a new one” you lied through your teeth. Even a new sweater couldn't replace the damage done, and you swore upon your mother and Nemesis that you would get your revenge on the Stolls. Maybe you could make them fall in love with a frog or cause someone to break their heart. Anything at the moment seemed like a better revenge than their permanent makeup and clothing curse placed by your siblings. You were just so mad you couldn’t fathom it all. 

It all just got you in a terrible mood. You were sure your anger and bitterness could turn the campfire black. And there you were, getting ready for said campfire with no sweater on, and your favorite mango balm was also a small victim of your sibling's anger. You sat at dinner sulking, not speaking to anyone, trying to eat your mango, thinking it could cheer you up but it didn’t. It just made you angrier at the Stolls, especially Travis with his cheeky smile as you threw him your destroyed sweater. Granted, it might have been the clown makeup, but still. 

And you continued to sulk during the campfire, not singing along and sitting slightly apart from your siblings. Most of them had made amends at this point, but you just acted like it. Who could blame you for being petty? It was only justified. You were so entranced in your own emotions that you failed to see the person sitting next to you, yet the small gift placed on your lap didn’t go unnoticed.

 “I heard from Gwen about your sweater,” he said, looking down at the floor “I’m sorry about the whole ordeal, really.” 

You sighed as you looked towards him “Travis you know I can’t get that makeup off of you,” you said. You were sure whatever this gift was it was probably bribery, and your anger couldn’t let you see past that. 

“Maybe you should open it first. I kind of left camp for this and paid for it,” he said, finally looking back at you. You tried your best not to laugh at his face, but he did look ridiculous with the clown makeup.

 You opened the gift carefully, revealing a pink sweater almost exactly like the one you lost. You gasped as you looked back at Travis, “I know it’s not Moo Moo.” 

“Miu Miu,” you corrected. 

“Yeah that. But still I wanted to replace it. I know it doesn’t have the same meaning, I'm sorry, really,” his apology seemed sincere, and you couldn’t dictate lies between his words. 

“Thanks, but what about the rest of the things my siblings lost?” You weren’t wrong. If he wanted to apologize, he should’ve been replacing all the things lost in this ‘prank.’ 

“Well, it’s not like they like mangos,” he said ever so casually, confusing you.

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah, you know there’s only one person in that cabin that likes mangos. It was a golden mango,” he got up and just left, winking at you as you stayed there processing his words. You would’ve laughed at his face, but even with the gods awful makeup, he looked cute, and you could almost feel your heart skip a beat as to what he was insinuating. But still, you didn’t understand what exactly he was trying to tell you. He left you there dumbfounded, trying to understand your feelings at that moment.

Being a daughter of Aphrodite, you could be pretty oblivious when it came to your feelings. You knew instantly if someone had a crush on another person, yet you couldn't understand why your heart beated so fast around the Hermes boy. You chalked it up to the ridiculous makeup he had, considering you found clowns creepy, but it still felt different. Suddenly, you didn't feel like skipping archery class anymore if it meant the Hermes cabin was going to be there, or putting a little bit more effort into your appearance each morning. You even wore your pink sweater religiously, as if it was the only item of clothing you owned. 

Your siblings were not as oblivious as you, they knew about the secret glances during breakfast or how your voice went up an octave when you spoke to him. But in true aphrodite cabin style, they watched from afar, seeing a love story form right before their eyes. And it wasn't hard to push you guys together, you seemed to always unconsciously follow him around, excusing it by saying you wanted to be more involved in camp. 

“Y/N could you take over arts and crafts for me today? I’m kind of busy with some other things,” asked Mitchell. He was free, but you did need to know that, and being the understanding sister that you were, you agreed. But your dear brother forgot to mention one slight detail: it was all the younger campers, which you couldn't stand sometimes, and that it was an arts and crafts session with the Hermes cabin.

 So, it came as a surprise to see a familiar mop of curls sitting at a separate table from the rest of the campers, making his own friendship bracelets. And it seemed to be a surprise to Travis too, fixing his hair and discreetly checking his breath once he caught a glimpse of you. 

“I thought Mitchell was helping today,” he said, pulling the chair next to him. You sat down fixing your hair too. 

“Actually, he is busy today, so I'm covering,” you explained, avoiding his eyes. His clown makeup long gone, you finally were able to appreciate his blue eyes and elvish features.

 “I’m glad you like the sweater,” he said, breaking the silence between you too. You had forgotten you were wearing it; it was muscle memory at this point. 

“Yeah, it's nice. Thank you so much,” you said, trying to hide the blush creeping on your face.

 “I'm glad you like it. I had to play poker with some of my siblings to buy it,” he said, and as your mouth dropped, Hermes boy’s were known for shoplifting once in a while, and you had assumed that was the case. But with the simple fact he went through all that trouble to get you a sweater made your heart flutter, you couldn't ignore it anymore: you had a crush on Travis Stoll and he had a crush on you. 

You kind of knew about the boy's feelings, being one of the many gifts blessed upon you by your mother. Yet for a whole month, you were in denial of your feelings. How could you like someone who played such a prank on you and your siblings? Or who always had a stupid smirk on his face to pair up with his cocky personality? Yet, you couldn't help it, your heart secretly longed for him. 

“You didn't have to go through so much trouble for a sweater, you know,” you said, grabbing some thread to make your bracelet.

“I know, but I wanted to make things right,” he said smiling at you. 

"You should've replaced Mitchells cologne, aren't you guys friends?” you said, not looking at how his smile slowly faded. 

“We are friends, but I wanted to make things right with you,” you couldn't help but smile at his words as butterflies started to form in your stomach.

“Why with me though?” Travis groaned, running his hand over his face. “I thought you were a daughter of Aphrodite” he said, with slight annoyance laced in his words 

“I am, but that still doesn't answer my question,” You finally looked up at him holding back from laughing in his face.

 “Because you're you, and I… don't you get it Y/N?” he said, stumbling over his words.

“Gods don't make me spell it out, this is so embarrassing,” the young campers long forgotten as they left both of you alone. “I like you. Gods, the mango was meant for you, there's only one person in that cabin that eats mangos like she can't live without them,” he spilled out, feeling a weight lift off his chest 

“I knew,” you said. You couldn't help but smile, it was only you ever wanted to hear from him, ever since he sat next you at that campfire.

“You knew!?” 

“Trav I can sense when someone has a crush, I just wanted you to say it,” now it was his time to blush at the sound of his name leaving your lips. 

“And I guess the feelings are reciprocated” you finished off, looking directly into his eyes. 

“So, will you go out on a date with me?” he asked, smiling so wide it hurt his cheeks. 

“If there's going to be mangos, then yes I would love to go on a date with you,” you responded. It felt like time stopped, and it was only you and Travis in that moment, looking at each other's eyes stuck in your bubble of love. 

[disventure-rewrite-takes]

Hello again! (Warning, long rant again)

I'm basically making my own dc au for fun (I have too many writing projects to make another rn)

Adding onto what I created on Tom and Jensen, I wanna switch some of the characters with different ones for All Stars. This is now my au of an okay show plot

I wanna add only two characters, Drew (cause I love him and more details later), and Rosa (also explained later) and remove Miriam and Lake (I'm sorry but it's for reason and I wanna give other characters a chance to win)

The reason why I chose Drew and Rosa for All Stars is for two reasons, Fiore and common sense. For Drew, he's an underused contestant that's gone too early (honestly, glad he wasn't picked for all stars cause it kinda flopped after episode 5) but one thing that stands out about him that not a lot of the fandom bothered to notice is that Drew is a constant supporter of Fiore.

One: He probably voted for someone else (like maybe Miriam or Tom) in episode 1, and he was shocked that Fiore was voted out. Also, at the finale where Fiore was already exposed at a villain, Drew was seen at Fiore's stand despite everything, so a Drew and Fiore dynamic would be perfect because Fiore gets bullied way too much by both her teammates and the writing.

And while she does deserve some of the anger they feel towards her, you have to remember that she's just a 6-8 year old (No, I'm not excusing her actions they were bad, but there's a reason why she's this way. Monsters aren't born, they're made), so having someone who seen her at her worst and yet still cares about her would probably make Fiore realize that she's not a heartless monster like what her mom said, she's capable of love like everyone else.

Rosa is also picked for a similar reason, like Drew, while Rosa did watch DC season 1 and saw how Fiore was acting like a jerk she never really liked her first but later into watching the other half of the season she saw a bit of her daughter in Fiore if certain things happened. So when she joined All Stars, she saw the chance to help the self-proclaimed 'monster' of the Disventure Camp.

Let me tell you, if someone has been told by a bunch that they're the worst and many hateful words at a young age, gains a support system and teaches them how to truly love with time it would do wonders.

(Also, I want Rosa to adopt Fiore after the show is over. (Dis)respectfully, I don't trust Alec around kids based on the few mentions about his treatment towards his own kid)

Now, for Tom, his spy background is what made me like him back in the first season 'cuase I'm a sucker for anything spy-related. But like with any cool plotline, ONC fumbled his background just for what? Petty drama and a relationship that probably wouldn't be the best in reality.

Maybe he gets trauma from getting tortured by the enemy after being left behind on a dangerous mission by his teammates and friends he trusted (make Tom fucked up looking like the Creature from Frankenstein) and scars similar to the Phantom's eye scar and have half of his mouth exposed (just have the right side be messed up 👍🏽) Make him a recluse that learns to accept help from others along with trauma bonding with Jake (trust issues gang fr)

For the last part, Jensen. The mystery man himself: Why is he working on a reality TV show where his face could be revealed with the FBI? What did he do for the police and FBI hunting him down, and what does he gain during his stay at Disventure Camp?

Now, let's imagine this: Jensen used to be a part of this huge crime ring that he, originally named Vladimir, ruled with an iron fist. But someone snitched on the gang, and the police took down most of the gang members except Vladimir. Now, with nothing but posters asking people to look out for him, Vladimir needed to get back on top, so when he saw a sheet asking for help on a new reality show out in the middle of no where Vladimir took the job.

He changed his looks (his hair was black, but he dyed it gray to look older, covered the tattoo on his neck and blinded his left eye), and gained a new (fake) ID and changed his name to Jensen. After being hired by Derek and Trevor, he started his plan to restart his empire by selling the animal corpses he kills by the order of Derek and Trevor (He may have killed some interns and framed it as bear attacks)

When season 1 started and Tom joined (He was forced to take the job after the trouble with his teammates betraying him and his boss on their last straw at Tom), Jensen sensed something odd about him. Sneaking a peek at his bags while the players are at the challenge, Jensen finds out that Tom's a spy looking for him, so he creates a plan to make sure Tom will never catch him.

So that's what I have for now, I might come back with more later. Thank you for reading and gn/gm!

-🌙

ATE DEVOURED LEFT NO CRUMBS WITH THIS

i LOVE the idea of getting drew and rosa back to not only flesh them out more (as they deserved) but to also flesh out fiore and give her a redemption arc. especially drew omg my sweet boy i miss him

and the jensen arc... moon anon we need you on the show rn i can’t watch this knowing it could’ve been THIS /pos

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

On watching National Treasure with a friend

My dear readers, it’s been too long!

Apologies for my tardiness, but the past few months have been incredibly hectic. My grandmother’s been sick, work has been extra chaotic, and my best friend was visiting from Türkiye.

We met in grad school, and two of our classmates were getting married (to each other) in April so she came from Istanbul for the wedding and stayed with me for a few weeks afterwards. It has been a whirlwind of lunches, day trips, and movies. I bring this to your attention now because on one of her first nights here, she requested to watch National Treasure.

I promise I didn’t foist it on her! She’s heard me talk about the blog so much that she wanted to see what the fuss was all about. She’d seen National Treasure once at some point in the past, but didn’t remember much about it. And I need very little provocation for a rewatch, so off we went.

My friend is incredibly expressive. She’s one of those people who wears her heart on her sleeve even when doing something as simple as watching a movie. One of my favorite things about hanging out with her is her reactions to things. She’ll always let you know if she’s happy or surprised or what have you. Me, my reactions tend to be a little more all or nothing. But I digress.

I loved watching National Treasure with her because she really engaged with it. You could tell by the amount she was laughing, reacting, and asking questions that she was really pulled into the story. Honestly, I had forgotten how funny the movie is. Like I know that it’s funny (both because of the excellent comic relief provided by Riley, and occasionally through moments of sheer camp) but I know the movie so well it’s been a long time since I’ve laughed out loud at the jokes. But my friend was laughing in all the right places. It was a delightful reminder of what it felt like to watch National Treasure for the first time, and to be charmed by its ridiculous adventure.

She also elicited a few disbelieving “no!”s, surprised ���whaaat”s and other reactions that reminded me of how exciting the movie is. To me it feels like a familiar blanket at this point, but it was nice to be reminded of how much the movie turns. It never stays still for too long. The plot is always thickening in a really satisfying way.

I was also surprised by which pieces of American history she was familiar with. Like, she recognized the Watergate hotel on sight? No judgement here. I could probably not have pointed Türkiye out on a map before we became friends. It was just interesting to me which pieces of American pop-history had stuck with her.

I tried not to be too annoying during the watch. While I am at this point overflowing with fun tidbits of National Treasure knowledge, I tried to hold back from pausing to commentate unless I thought the fact in question would make the watch more fun.

This was also the first time I’d watched the movie all the way through with the subtitles on. I tend to thrown them on if I’m looking for a particular scene to take a screenshot of, but don’t want my audio on for whatever reason, but I had never watched the movie through like that. At this point, I know most of the dialogue by heart.

However, there are a few lines that took me a long time to make out, and the subtitles really drew my focus to these places. (Why didn’t I just turn the subtitles on a as a kid? Idk, it never occurred to me.) I was already wanted to do an article on misheard lines, and this watch pushed that closer to the top of my list.

After the movie, my friend wanted to watch Book of Secrets. We found some time for that a week or two later. Today will not be a day to yuck on anyone’s yums, so suffice it to say she enjoyed it, but not as much as the first one.

There isn’t really a conclusion here, except perhaps find a willing, uninitiated friend and watch your favorite movie with them. See what comes up for both of you.

Now that my friend is back home and my nana is moved into a new place, things will hopefully settle down for me a bit and I will get back to a somewhat regular positing schedule. No promises, but there’s still a lot I want to cover!

I hope things are well for you! Happy hunting.

Your Editor

[wizkiddx]

living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

[babesonly]

fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids​ purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS. 

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny. 

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

--

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean 

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease 

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

Or

An ethics lesson from Hell

Or

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good 

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

--

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

--

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want? 

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god. 

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

[13uswntimagines]

Our Song (Alyssa Naeher x Reader)

Request: alyssa naehex reader thats set during quarantine w/ “Shy” by Alexander Stewart. I just kind of think it’s cute since she’s an introvert and that it would be fitting

Author’s Note: Speical Thanks To @literaryhedgehog​

Alyssa knew she should just say it, that admitting it out loud would finally put an end to this madness. She ran a soothing hand through your hair when you sniffled loudly into her chest. 

God, she should just tell you how she felt. But, she also didn’t want to overstep. That would make being roommates really awkward. Especially since neither of you were supposed to leave the apartment right now except for essential purchases. And she didn’t want to lose her best friend. That would really suck. 

But she wasn’t afraid to say what no one else would- you had a terrible taste when it came to partners. You chose people who didn’t value you, and you always ended up hurt. 

This time was no different, well, it was slightly different considering you couldn’t leave your shared apartment to cope like you normally would. Alyssa didn’t know if that was better or worse, considering that you had adapted your breakup routine to just be endless cuddles with her and your favorite stuffed animal.  

She had already spent the last hour making comforting noises. You had stopped shedding tears 15 minutes ago, so Alyssa decided it was time to go for some humor. “Hey, so now you and Taylor Swift have something in common!”

“Hmm” You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes never leaving where Supergirl was playing on screen. 

“Well, she was broken up with over text. You were broken up with over text. I think this is the perfect opportunity to listen to her re-recording of Fearless, and really channel those emotions!”

“No, Joe broke up with her in a 27-second phone call,” You lifted your head up off of her very comfortable chest to raise your eyebrow at the woman. 

Alyssa was a great keeper, and amazing at crosswords, but she always needed your help when it came to Taylor trivia. 

“Then Joe showed more consideration as an 18-year-old child than your 32 year old wanna be soccer star. It doesn’t change the fact that I think listening to Mr Perfectly Fine would be cathartic.” 

“It’s kinda funny that she wrote Forever and Always, Mr. Perfectly fine, Better than Revenge and Holy Ground all about the same guy, they’re all so different from each other,” You mumbled, settling back down on her chest. At least she didn’t say that you had as many breakups as she did. That was a rude joke. (One Alyssa wouldn’t dare make. She was more cultured than the media asshats that chased your team around). 

“Woman’s efficient,” Alyssa shrugged. “No reason why you can't recycle the same emotion into a different song genre.” 

“At least she could make millions off her pain. All I seem to be able to do is kick the ball harder,” You grumbled. Your landlord complained about you practicing in the street because of how hard you sent the ball careening into his precious brick wall. It wasn’t your fault Alyssa was too slow to stop the PK. 

“Darling, considering you’re one of the strongest kickers on the east coast, I’d say that pain is going to a worthwhile cause. But you do kind of have the worst taste in relationships.” 

“Hey! Savannah wasn’t a bad choice, just bad timing,” You huffed indignantly. 

“So that would be one out of…. How many bad relationships?” 

“At least one for every Taylor Swift album,” 

“Okay, here’s a fun idea, choose an ex for each album,” Alyssa said brightly. Thinking about music would definitely cheer you up. “Wannabe soccer star is obviously your Joe, so represents the Fearless album. Which relationship is your… Drew?”

“You already know the answer to that question,” you said, already picking up your phone to add Teardrops on my Guitar to the music queue. You then quickly added Forever and Always and started scrolling through Speak Now for the next song inspiration. 

Alyssa nodded. It was a well-known fact that you had a massive crush on one Hope Solo growing up, and you had been absolutely enamored with her the second you set foot into camp. But Alyssa also knew that Hope was very faithful to a certain veteran. 

The veteran keeper had tried to let you down easy, and Kelley was still one of your best friends, but it had hurt in the moment.

“Kristie was my Haunted,” you said, smiling slightly. Dating her felt like a whirlwind, one that took your breath until you never thought it would end. She made butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you were so desperate to say the right thing, to be the perfect partner, that you always felt like you were walking a tightrope. Floating on air, but desperate to keep your balance. “At least she had the decency to wait until we were in the same city to end it.” 

“Aren’t the two of you friends now?” Alyssa looked down at you, watching as you scrolled through songs from your comfortable place on her chest. 

You nodded with a small smile. “Hmm, we are much better off that way anyway.” 

“I bet you I can guess who your We are Never Ever Getting Back Together person is,” Alyssa trilled, reaching down to take the phone. 

You playfully snatched it away from her. “Who’s to say I wasn’t going to choose I knew you were trouble?” You raised your eyebrow at the woman, who simply smirked in response. 

“I can tell you who that is too if you like,” Alyssa reached for her own phone and took over control of the speakers, adding both songs to the music queue. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Who?” 

“You definitely knew Sam Kerr was trouble, and I think it took you 4 breakups with Leah to finally call it quits,” 

“I was going to say Leah for 1989, it took me forever to realize how fucked up our relationship was after we finally broke up,” 

“I’m sure the distance didn’t help.” With her in London and you in Chicago things just kind of fell apart. 

“Maybe,” you hummed, noncommittally. 

“Okay, so for Reputation. I’m thinking Don’t Blame Me,” 

“You did go a bit crazy for Jane…” Alyssa said with a roll of her eyes. You had almost moved to Houston for that girl, thank god you didn’t. You sunburned like nobody's business. 

“Oh come on. You just didn’t like the idea of me moving. And considering how long we had been dating at that point it did make sense!” You argued. 

“It was 3 months Y/n,” She deadpanned. 

“I was in a wlw relationship. That’s like practically three years, it’s not like I brought a u-haul to our first date.” 

Alyssa quirked an eyebrow up at you. “Didn’t you have one of those the first time we met?” 

“Yeah, because I wasn’t moving into my college apartment without any furniture!”

“Whatever you say, babe. Who's your Folklore?” She rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. 

“I think you skipped an album,” you said. This was weird because Lover was one of Alyssa’s favorite albums. “But, since you asked. I think Kelley is The 1.” 

“Ah, our favorite squirrel,” Alyssa’s lips ticked up. You and Kelley had dated in college (something that should have made her jealous), but Kelley was the one pushing her to admit her feelings now. 

“We were just too young and dumb,” you said, smiling. “We had a great time together, and it would have been fun if it worked out. But at some point we just realized, we were friends, but there wasn’t anything romantic there.”

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Alyssa said, like a liar. 

“I’m not. Her and Emily are like made for each other,” You snorted with the shake of your head. “And at least she wasn’t afraid of the world knowing we were together,” 

“Well, yeah,” Alyssa smiled. She had loved seeing the way being publicly out with Kelley had brought out the best of you. “ Okay moving on! Next, we need to narrow down your No body, No Crime.” 

“I take offense. Alex is still alive, so that doesn’t count,” You huffed. 

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I know you didn’t kill any of your significant others,” Alyssa said, laughing. “Though if you listened to the song you would know that’s my job… ”

“Alex was my Champagne Problems,” You mumbled sadly. That relationship had been the hardest for you, as had the breakup. She was terrified of the world even suspecting she wasn’t straight. 

You had everything, except the freedom to be yourself, and In the end, you couldn’t take the hiding anymore. 

“You did your best, love. But people come out at their own pace. And it was before Obergfell v. Hodges was decided. Being queer was still more likely to be presented as a scandal in the media then.”

“She cheated on me with Serv. She doesn’t get a pass,” You grumbled, crossing your arms. 

“I’m pretty sure you were on a break dear,” Alyssa said, though she was inclined to agree with you. Being on a ‘break’ but not officially breaking up didn’t seem like a reason to start dating other people. Still getting over some of the semantics might theoretically help you move on. “BUT maybe we should move on. Who is your Lover?”

Your eyes squinted thoughtfully, a light pink shading your cheeks. “The only person who hasn’t ever left me is you. You let me leave the Christmas lights up until May and dance around the kitchen when you cook.” 

Alyssa looked away, not able to meet your eyes. ”I mean, the lights can change color, so they can be thematic all year. And you’re the one who chooses the music to listen to while I cook. I can’t help it if they’re all great for dancing.”

“You can dance to anything. I’m pretty sure you turned a Hosier song into a salsa dance last week.” You giggled. 

“The only person I dance with is you, Y/n,” Alyssa said, finally meeting your eyes. She could feel her body start shaking slightly, as the adrenaline kicked in. She was going to do it. She was going to tell you. “I don’t want to dance if I’m not dancing with you.” 

“I’d dance with you in a storm in my best dress,” 

“I have tried so hard to be supportive about your last several relationships. But seeing you dancing to your favorite song with anyone else… I’ve loved you for three years now and I couldn’t bear it.” 

The air was suddenly charged between you, and you realized your faces were just inches apart. It was hard to breathe. You never dreamed your best friend would return your feelings (maybe that’s why you had so many bad relationships). 

“Kiss me,” you breathed, slowly moving around so your heads were at the same level. 

“That’s not a Taylor swift Lyric,” Alyssa said. In her brain, there was a loading sign currently whirring in little circles, as she attempted to process what you just said. Did you mean what she thought you said?

“Baby just say yes,” You said, feeling so happy that tears were coming to your eyes. You leaned forward getting inches from her face, so close you could feel her breath hitch. “Please kiss me.”

“Yes,” was all Alyssa had time to say before she closed the distance and kissed you. 

[lemons3ason]

The Asakura Twins Loving the Same Person Headcannons

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

-You grew up with Yoh, you come from a powerful line of Shamans and since you were both the same age your families thought it would be good for you to be his protector from Hao.

-That plan was a failure since both of you were equally lazy and only enjoyed the simple things in life like music and food.

-You were the two little kids that made the promise to marry each other when you were older and his parents openly called you a couple until Yoh met Anna.

-With Anna’s strict training you both became surprisingly strong Shamans but you left about three years before the official Shaman tournament.

-While you were traveling and enhancing your powers you met Hao. Though the whole meeting left you heartbroken and alone something about you made him want you more. The tearless enraged (e/c) orbs that complimented your blood stained face made him fall head over heels for you.

-Though with what little energy you had left you escaped him easily but he never could find you again.

-Neither of them see you again until during the Shaman Fights and Yoh absolutely tackles the hell out of you.

-“(Y/n)! You’re here I can’t believe it! Well of course I can believe it this is you we’re talking about but (Y/n)!”, Yoh screams hugging you tight.

-You’re both babbling away at each other like Nala and Simba were when they reunited and everyone is quick to notice the huge smile that drew over Yoh’s face as you spoke to him and embraced him.

-When you all have your encounter with Hao in Patch Village, Yoh is immediately protective of you stepping between you and Hao since he dared to walk up to you.

-That’s when everyone finds out you already know who Hao is since you’ve shared a fight with him.

-He killed your Mother and in return your left him a noticeable scar against the side of his neck, He’s been tracking you down ever since.

-Hao loves you because you’re strong, you don’t fear him, you hate him. He wants to keep you all to himself and since he’s surprisingly good at flirting your forced to blush on several occasions.

-Hao changes when you’re around, he’s almost so convincingly calm and gentle that you wouldn’t be able to tell that he was a mass murderer.

-Hao becomes a constant bother to you until you start getting used to his presence but you’d never tell him you enjoy having him around since he is still evil.

-“Such a pretty shade of red, did I make your heart race?”, Hao will ask cupping your cheek tenderly as he admires your red glow.

-You’ll slap his hand away and scoot closer to Yoh who will grin and stick his tongue out at his older brother.

-Each fight they’ll hope to hear or see you in the stands rooting for them, showing off just to impress you.

-Likewise they both do the same for you, Hao watches from afar but when you win he’ll make his Spirit of Fire create small heart shaped flames in front of you to show that he was watching. Yoh jumps from his spot in the stands and raced to hug you and congratulate you on a job well done.

-One night just before the pre-finals start both brothers find you and have something important to ask of you. Hao is much more calm and collected a soft smile on his face as he nervously plays with the ends of his hair. Yoh on the other hand, is a blushing mess nervously playing with his fingers as he calls out your name.

-“(Y-y/n)...I-I...”

-“(Y/n), we love you but we understand you can only love one of us back. Please choose who you want to care for your heart.”, Hao spoke with so much confidence on the matter.

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

*Yoh’s Route*

-You smiled at their sudden confession but since childhood you knew that Yoh was the only one for you.

-“Hao I’m sorry but I don’t love you. I’ve loved Yoh for so long now but he had Anna so I never tried confessing to him.”, you admitted softly watching Yoh’s face explode into a blush.

-Hao was deeply upset by your decision, but he respected you enough to leave it as it was. Now he could focus on destroying you and becoming shaman king without hesitation.

-Yoh was so excited that you had accepted his feelings that he lunged into your arms and placed a sweet kiss to your lips

-“Heehee I’m so glad you feel the same. I love you (Y/n).”, Yoh cheers in a soft voice pecking your lips again just to be sure it wasn’t a dream.

-Somehow you snuck into Yoh’s room with the boys and everyone woke up the next day to see you balled up at Yoh’s side, the goofiest grin plastered over his face.

-Horohoro was quick to notice the small love bite on the side of his neck neck and snickered, seems like you were the dominant and possessive one in the relationship.

-Anna is a bit heartbroken at first but you promised to still let her whip you and Yoh into shape if you ever slacked off to much.

-She accepted and in the end she got her dream of becoming Wife of the Shaman king since Hao had confessed his adoration for her about a month later, he won the shaman fights in the end so he did become king.

-You and Yoh were happy, a peaceful couple in a wild world surrounded by the people you loved.

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

*Hao’s Route*

-You were left speechless by Hao’s blunt confession and it made you sad knowing that you had already made your choice.

-You flashed a sad smile to Yoh and hugged him much to his heart break but with a few simple words of encouragement he seemed okay being friend zoned, in the end it would be the best for both of you. He was happy with Anna by his side and you didn’t want to get between them when you knew they were meant for each other.

-Once you had pulled away from Yoh, Hao scooped you up in his arms and you both vanished. Having returned to his camp you stared at him in wonder to what he was going to do next.

-“To think that you would have actually grown to love me. I still can’t believe you actually do but I’m happy... absolutely happy. My little star.”, he hummed embracing tenderly as if you’d break if he held you to hard.

-You were nervous about your decision, thoughts overfilled your mind about how crazy you were for falling for your mother’s murderer, Hao could sense it so he washed away your insecurities with a soft peck to the cheek.

-“I’ll make sure you never regret your choice, even if I have to start from square one. I love you (Y/n), you don’t have to worry about anything by my side.”, He’ll whisper in your ears hugging you tight.

-Unsurprisingly he’s very touched starve so he’s always seeking you out for physical affection, be it a kiss or just holding your hand.

-Super romantic, you do have to keep him under control since he’s a bit protective and possessive but with a good scold you’re able to get him to respect your personal space and consider your feelings towards his behavior.

-Openly marks you with love bites and hickies even if you complain about them being to dark or to visible to others.

-You become his Shaman Queen *but only after making him promise to bring back everyone that he killed during the Shaman Fights since his new powers granted him that ability* and he loves you deeply with each passing day.

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

*Self Route*

-You were shocked having been confessed to by the twins, you did love them but not like they loved you.

-You smiled at both of them and hugged them tight before stepping back and explaining that to them.

-It hurt, it was obvious by their expressions but you didn’t need a partner by your side at least not now.

-Yoh respected that much about you, Hao was a bit petty about your decision but he just left you alone after that night.

-You fought alongside Yoh for the rest of the shaman fights and helped defeat Hao even though he took the crown of Shaman King.

-Life made sense due to your decision. With Hao being a god it was rare to see him but as years went by you and Yoh and quickly outgrown him and you made fun of him for it every time you saw him.

-You own an orange cat and named him Hao Jr.

-You’re the first to hold little Hana Asakura once he’s born since Yoh had fainted during the birthing process, Anna literally only trusts you with her baby.

-Your the crazy aunt that carries little Hana around in a baby chest carrier, both of you wearing black shades as you walk around flexing that you are the proud aunt of a handsome little orange boy!

-Yoh is super happy to find out that you end up engaged to Horohoro but does give him the talk about cherishing you and killing you if he hurts you.

-Yoh and Hao become your honorary brothers and they don’t let anyone mess with you even if you’re old enough to protect yourself.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Gender? In THIS Economy?

Read here on AO3!

Summary:

Duke is questioning stuff and goes to Tim for advice. (feat. trans!Tim and nonbinary!Duke)

“Here you go. One Batburger with extra pickles, extra onions, and extra extra mayonnaise.” Duke drops the paper takeout bag unceremoniously into Tim’s lap. “Your taste buds need a tune-up, bro.”

Tim unwraps his burger and takes a bite. Batburger may be questionable when it comes to copyright laws, but damn if they don’t pile on the condiments better than any fast food restaurant in Gotham. “Sounds to me like you simply haven’t reached the sky-scraping level of enlightenment that I have, grasshopper.”

“Enlightenment would have been going to Red Robin and using your uniform to get a discount,” Duke says. He sits beside Tim on the rooftop’s edge, their legs dangling side by side a hundred feet above Gotham’s plunging gray streets. He digs into his own burger and makes a face. “Enlightenment would also be getting the Robin Nuggets next time. This tastes like dried leather.”

“I like it,” Tim says with a shrug. “It has personality.”

“So does raw sewage, but you don’t see me eating that.”

Tim concedes the point. His communicator buzzes in his belt. He checks the screen and discovers an alert from Cass composed entirely of clown emojis and red harlequin diamonds.

Duke notices. “Should we get that?”

Tim pockets the communicator. “Nah, Spoiler’s got it. We have time to relax.” And he’s not about to pass up quality time with the one little brother who doesn’t hate him. It’s hard enough as it is for Tim and Duke to find the time, what with them being on opposite sleeping schedules and work snatching their attention away with grabby, toddler-sized hands.

“Don’t get a lot of that during the day shift,” Duke says. “Every time an alarm goes off, it’s my business.”

Tim knocks him in the side with his elbow. “That’s what you get for turning to the light side instead of kicking it in the shadows with us. More employees to go around.” He sips his soda for a moment. “Why did you come out tonight, anyway? I thought you stayed in on weeknights.”

“Right. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” Duke says it carefully, like he’s testing the waters. “I need advice.”

Tim has to admit that his chest puffs out a little at that. It’s not often people come to him for advice when Dick and Barbara are right there, all full of adult wisdom that Tim is too pitifully shrimpy to possess. “What’s up?”

“It’s kind of...personal.”

“Yes, Bruce does have special powder for suit-chafing. It’s in the cabinet under the first-aid supplies.”

“It’s not that,” Duke says, though he snorts in half-hearted laughter. He looks down at his hands like he’s dreading the words lodged in his throat. “What was it like, realizing you were a dude?”

One of Tim’s eyebrows shoots up. “Oh.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s an invasive question.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just caught me off guard, is all.” It’s not like this is the first time someone has asked. Tim used to be uncomfortable talking about it, but he’s grown up since then. Talking about his trans journey is as normal as talking about what he did yesterday. He eats a fry. “What do you want to know?”

Duke searches Tim’s face for a sign that he’s lying, that he should back off. When he doesn’t find one, he asks, “How old were you when you figured it out?”

Tim thinks back. “Nine, I think? But even before that, it’s not like I ever really felt like a girl. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t know what. When I first heard about what being transgender meant, everything I’d been feeling until then clicked into place.”

“What was it like?” Duke asks, “growing up the way you did? Presenting as a girl when you knew you weren’t?”

Tim shrugs. “I don’t know. It was life at the time. I dealt with it.”

“Was it hard? Pretending to be something you weren’t?”

Tim doesn’t know what answer Duke is looking for, or why he’s so interested, but he won’t ask. “My parents always had this idea of me being the perfect daughter, all obedient and graceful and crap. I’m pretty sure their hope was to eventually marry me off to the highest bidder so they could reap the business benefits.”

“That sounds awful.”

Tim shrugs again. “I didn’t start feeling any different than I should have until around six or seven. I was always a tomboy. I liked doing boy stuff and playing sports, but my parents thought it was a phase I would grow out of. They’d make me wear dresses and go to fancy parties with them, all the while I just wanted to claw my skin off and go home.”

He remembers the nights he would lie awake in bed, imagining what it must be like to have been born someone else. Anyone else. To grow up as a little boy who was allowed to run around, to get dirty, to be himself instead of following some arbitrary guidelines someone else drew up the day he was born. He imagined what it would feel like to answer to a different name than the one he’d been given, which grated on his ears the longer time went on, like an itchy sweater he couldn’t shed. It was hell.

He gives Duke a sly grin. “But the upside of having absent parents is that there aren’t as many people watching you. No one cared if I went to school in the boy’s uniform instead of the girl’s. No one was there to stop me from cutting my hair short the way I wanted it.”

Duke's eyes widen. “You cut your own hair?”

“It went exactly the way you’re thinking. I had to go to the barber the next day and have them fix it because it was so uneven. But by the end of the day, it was the way I always imagined it. I was finally starting to look like the person I wanted to be.”

Duke stares intently at the remains of his burger as if the universe’s answers to an unspoken question were written in sesame seeds. “Did it get better after that? Did you feel...at peace?”

“‘Course not. The world wasn’t magically fixed just because I took a step in the right direction. My problems didn’t go away.” When he says that, Duke looks almost...disappointed? “But,” Tim adds, “it was better than it was before. I still had to act for my parents and the rest of the world, but I didn’t have to hide from myself anymore.”

“How did your parents react when they found out?”

Tim grimaces. “They...didn’t take it well.” He can still hear his father’s voice in his memories, bringing up therapy and camps and whatever places he could think of that would “fix” his little girl.

“But, after a while,” Tim continues, “it was clear that I wasn’t going to change my mind anytime soon. I guess they figured it would be easier to go along with it than fight me every step of the way. They still didn’t like it, but they tolerated it.”

Duke is quiet.

“Why do you ask?” Tim prods.

Duke’s expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s nights like this when Tim can see how perfectly Duke fits into this mental institution they call a family. For all that Duke thrives in the light, he keeps his cards just as close to his chest as the rest of them. He gives Tim a half-smile. “Just wondering.”

“Okay.”

They fall into weighted silence, the scales tipping on either side of their post, but never settling. Tim waits. He finishes his burger and busies himself with reorganizing the pouches in his belt, giving Duke the privacy to think.

“I don’t know,” Duke starts after several minutes, “if I’m a boy.” He looks at Tim. “I think I might be something else.”

“Okay,” Tim says calmly. “What do you feel like?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve always felt different, y’know? When I was a kid, it was because I was smarter than everyone in my class. And it was fine, because I knew what it was and how it worked and why it was a good thing, being the smart one. It made sense. Time went on, the other kids started catching up, but that mismatched feeling never went away. I never felt right in my skin.”

Duke’s face rises to the dark clouds, the Batsignal shining from the top of the police station like a holy beacon. “Then I met Batman. My powers started to come in and everything clicked into place, all at once. That was why I never felt like I fit in with everyone else, because I was different. I had powers. That must have been it.”

“But it wasn’t,” Tim guesses.

Duke shakes his head. “I thought it would be. I mean, what else could it have been, you know? It should have explained why I never felt at home in my identity. But time goes on, I learn how to use my powers, and it fixes some of it, but not everything. There’s still part of me that looks in the mirror and sees something off. Some detail out of place.”

“Do you feel like a girl?” Tim ventures to ask.

Duke folds over the corner of his straw wrapper again and again in tiny triangles. “Nah, I doubt it. I like some feminine things, but I don’t think I’m a girl. Or a guy. I think...I might be nonbinary?”

Tim does his best to channel Bruce’s “supportive dad” energy and smiles. “Okay. What pronouns do you want to use?”

“They/them, maybe? For a while?”

“Duly noted.” He puts a hand on Duke’s shoulder. “I really do appreciate you telling me.”

Duke rubs the back of their neck, their cheeks flushing. “It feels good to say out loud. Not just in my head.”

“Do you think you’re going to tell anyone else? You don’t have to if you’re not ready, but our whole family will support you.”

“Yeah.” Duke picks at their nails, nodding absently. “I know they will. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

Duke takes a deep breath in, and Tim is reminded of a balloon close to bursting. “My parents aren’t dead. I’m going to get them back. And when I do...what are they going to think when they wake up after half a decade and find out that their son isn’t their son anymore? What if they don’t like the person they see?”

Tim can’t say that he hadn’t swum with the same thoughts years ago, back when the person who is Tim Drake was still on the drawing board. But there’s a difference between his situation and Duke’s. “Your parents love you, Duke. They’re not going to stop loving you just because you’ve grown up since they last saw you.”

“What if it’s too much? The superpowers and the crime-fighting and the new gender...it’s a lot to take in.”

“Well, sure,” Tim says. “It might take some time for them to get used to it, but this is who you are. They’re going to love it just as much as they love the rest of you.”

Duke smiles, and if their eyes are a little misty, Tim pretends not to notice.

“Besides,” he says. “If I were you, I’d just lead with the superpowers thing. Anything after that sounds perfectly acceptable.”

[onceuponamirror]

purpose

set after 2x06, character study on ace as i try to figure him out. nace hints. getting in deep with this show lolol 

A sense of purpose.

The words rattle around in the back of his head as he turns off River Heights Drive. As is typical of the incoming Maine autumn, the night has fogged over, bringing with it a smattering of chilled rain. It runs down the pane of the windshield in tiny tendrils as Ace sits at a red light. He turns on the wipers, watching them flick to and fro.

A sense of purpose.

He flicks on his signal even though it’s well past midnight and famously sleepy New England towns are unsurprisingly asleep by 9. He turns left towards Main, which will eventually take him home, even if it’s the long way.

He said it out loud today, standing over a body and pulling on rubber gloves like it was second nature. “Everything we’ve done with Nancy the past few months has given me a sense of purpose. Anyone else miss that?”

It’s not like he was in denial, exactly, that everything that’s happened the past few months had woken something up in him—but he hadn’t quite put it into words, either. All his life, he’s been known as a lot of things—slacker, hacker, dishwasher, stoner, townie. Purpose has never really been among those.

His mom, perhaps a bit too kindly, says it’s because he picks things up too quickly and then gets bored. Even his childhood nickname—Ace—comes from his tendency towards acing the basics and moving on. Maybe it’s gifted child syndrome, or whatever new think-piece Twitter is floating, or something. But it’s not even an issue of attention span. He knows that too well; after nearly failing freshman year, his parents tested him for ADHD—twice.

Ace exhales, and directs Florence down the main drag of town, his fingers drumming against the wheel of the car. The old video rental is the only storefront with the lights still on, as if they hadn’t gotten the memo of the digital age. Rain continues to rumble over the hood of the car.

His guidance counselor had a meeting, the three of them, at the end of that year. It’d been Nancy’s mom, he realizes, surprised to have connected the dots only now. Mrs. Drew had said it kindly, but bluntly, just like Nancy would. “Ace is bright, and I do believe he can catch up on the work, but I think what he’s missing is the motivation. Some sense of purpose.”

He remembers looking up at Mrs. Drew lowly, halfway melted into his chair. His mother looked concerned. His father looked furious. Ace had just sighed and slouched further into his seat. By the time he graduated, his grades were fine, enough for State, anyway, but he didn’t bother applying. The very thought of it made him nauseous. He told his mom he wanted a gap year, and then it became another, and another. He got a job at The Claw to make enough money to cover the occasional joint—his father had initially seemed pleased until he found out he was only washing dishes.

He just—well, Mrs. Drew had put it right. He wasn’t motivated. He’d rather be outside, in the woods, where it was quiet. He’d rather be working on knots. He’d rather be practicing coding. He’d rather be anywhere but home—but he couldn’t quite bring himself to drift too far away from it, either. Deep down, Ace was afraid if he went to college, if he moved out of town, even—

Snow drifts across his memories. Sirens, blood, and snow.

It hadn’t always been that way. Growing up, he and his father had been inseparable. Tom was the local Scout leader, and most of Ace’s childhood was filled with camping outings, puzzles in the woods, and trivia nights. That was all before his dad’s accident—before his dad had almost died.

Tom stepped down from force. He’d stepped down from the Scouts, too. Parents wanted someone who could hear a boy shouting if there was trouble; Ace had overheard the conversation with the parents of kids he’d once considered friends. They didn’t feel like that after the accident.

The house grew quiet, like all sound was smothered. Slowly, they built back a new normal. Everyone took ASL classes, and his dad perfected lip reading. McGinnis helped his dad get his pension early. His mom picked up more shifts at the library.

And Ace—got bored.

After all, his dad had been motivated. He was a good cop, following good hunches. And all it did was get himself nearly killed. And the one time Ace got curious, started poking around in his dad’s files during some late night coding sessions, he got caught and nearly wound up in juvie for hacking federal databases. He remembers thinking that the meeting with McGinnis had felt a lot like the one with Mrs. Drew. Nothing good comes from a hunch, so why did he bother?

And then, Nancy.

He blinks, bringing himself back into the present. He’s almost home despite going out of his way to take the long way—the downside to living in a town the size of a snow globe.

A sense of purpose.

He has it now. Ever since Tiffany died and the wormhole of creepy crawlies opened up and nearly swallowed him whole, ever since Nancy started working at The Claw, really, something’s shifted. He finds he doesn’t argue as much with his dad; he has a crew now. Even when the Aglaeca curse was hanging over them, even when he’d been brought right back to that scared kid, about to lose everything all over again, he didn’t give up like he used to. Instead, he was mad.

Not only did Nancy bring puzzles back into his life, he thought she might be one herself, maybe more than she realized. He liked solving the steps of her. It felt like old times, like the Scout outings following treasure maps his dad made, only—electric, somehow, and alive under his skin.

He’s good at it too. He likes solving mysteries. He likes the mystery of Nancy, too.

Maybe that’s what scares him. But it’s a sense of purpose, and he thinks he might wait it out. See where it goes.

  He pulls into the drive, home.

[jenomark]

AUGUST

➔Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (Female) | Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Plot (ft. smut, romance, angst, fluff etc.) ➔Warnings: Masturbation (M), Mentions of sex & sex sounds, Drinking, Cursing etc. There is also a moment where Doyoung accidentally touches the reader on her hip while she is sleeping and drunk. ➔Word count: 3,318

➔Summary: You are dating handsome and lovable Jaehyun. You stay at his apartment all of the time, along with his roommate Doyoung. Doyoung has feelings for you, which he doesn’t quite understand. What begins as an innocent crush changes the lives of all three people over the course of seven months.

  Doyoung could hear Jaehyun having sex. Since the walls were paper thin, little was left to the imagination. At the oddest times of day, the banging would start. Doyoung didn’t wait to hear if it was the bed banging against the wall, or if his roommate was swinging from a secret sex swing somewhere inside of his room. The headphones came on quickly, Doyoung’s nimble fingers pressing play on the latest drama he was watching. During the boring bits, he could hear Jaehyun moaning, followed by a sweet tinkling of laughter that faded as swiftly as it had come. There was always a creaking of a bed, and then the floorboards. It was more or less the same.

  Doyoung would then write down a memo on his phone, the same one over and over again, on different dates: Find a new place to live.

“Ahhh,” Doyoung said, his frustration coming out with a gust of breath. 

This time, he was exhausted and hoping for some peace and quiet. He turned off the drama he tried watching, and sat on his bed cross-legged. He looked around his room and let himself listen to the sex he wasn’t having. It would embarrass him if Jaehyun knew that he listened, on occasion. 

As if I have a choice, Doyoung thought.

  Even though he hated hearing it, the sex sounds had come as sort of a comfort. It was his way of knowing Jaehyun was home and safe. After a while, Doyoung hadn’t gotten so used to it that he was numb to it. It was weird to admit, but he had gotten to know Jaehyun so intimately that he could practically count the seconds until Jaehyun came.

1, 2, 3, 4.   

  He waited, but there was nothing.  Doyoung uncrossed his legs and swung them over his bed. There was no gruff climax, no relaxed creaking of a bed. No soft music filtering underneath the door, the music making Doyoung long for a relationship. There was complete silence. Doyoung got up from his bed, his slippered feet sliding along the wood. In his mind, he was anxious about something having happened. He kept trying to convince himself that something wasn’t wrong with Jaehyun, that he didn’t have a stroke mid-,well, stroke.

 That’s when he heard it for the first time: your voice. Your moans were loud and free. They poured into Doyoung’s room, overflowing down his walls and laying at his feet. He was soaked with it. He stood in the middle of his room listening, his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. He was aroused by your harmony, and it shamed him how easy it was for him to reach into his pants and touch himself. The louder you got, the faster he went, stroking the length of his cock while standing, his knees wanting to buckle and drown.

 It was wrong of him, he knew. You were the girl Jaehyun was dating. Nothing too serious, Jaehyun had said. Though Doyoung knew you were always in the room with Jaehyun, you were like a complete entity. He didn’t like to think about you in any capacity, and yet there you were, getting fucked so good that the whole apartment building could hear. What kept Doyoung going was the jealousy taking root in his veins. He wanted to be the one on the other side of door with you. He wanted to know what you looked like when you came, how sweet your smile was afterwards as you laid in a puddle of your own desire. He fought those feelings by telling himself you would be gone like all the other girls before you, but like with everything, Doyoung was very wrong.

  Doyoung came in his hands. He felt sticky and gross. He wiped his sweat with the back of his free arm. You were still going, still giving the best vocal show of your life. He cleaned himself up and didn’t notice when you had stopped. Doyoung walked out of his bedroom, and at the same time, you walked out of Jaehyun’s, his basketball shorts hanging from your waist, and your facial expression too chipper. Even though it was dark in the living room, you glowed. You were getting ready to greet him, to be the best guest you could be.  Doyoung didn’t say anything, just kept his head down and kept moving. 

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   Doyoung was so tired that he had fallen asleep on the train, only to be woken up by a toddler offering him his spit-covered toy. Walking the last few blocks home had felt like he was trudging through hell, so when he made his way through the door, a weight felt like it was lifted from his body. Home was always the place Doyoung felt most comfortable.

  After sticking his key in the door and turning the lock, he could hear his bed calling his name. Or maybe it was an illusion due to lack of sleep. Doyoung felt the smile curve his lips. Being so far gone that he was imagining things was another thing he had to tick off his imaginary list of things that made him crazy. He kicked his work shoes off in the hallway and tried hard to keep his eyes open. He didn’t bother turning any of the lights on, just found his room by touching along walls. 

  When he made it into his room, he could hear the soft ticking of his bedside clock. He pulled his shirt over his head, peeled back the covers and got into his bed. A shower could wait. Food could wait. All he could think about was falling asleep for the next twelve hours, dreaming of touching soft mounds of flesh and warmth. He dreamed of caressing a woman’s breasts, of holding her so close he could smell faint whiffs of her sweet, natural scent. It had been a long time since he had someone to touch and to hold. It almost felt too real to him. This woman, this perfect being, held his hands and kept him sane. Though he wasn’t the softest of men, he dreamed of romance and marriage, a little house with kids running around. 

  Hearing a whimper that definitely didn’t belong in his dream, Doyoung’s eyes shot open. He was fully awake now. He saw the outline of a very real figure laying next to him on his bed, his fingers intertwined with theirs. You were not a dream. His other hand was resting on your hip, which he drew back immediately. His pelvis was so close against your body, that if you moved back, you’d feel all he had to offer. He could tell it was you by how fast his heart was racing, and by the sheer lust he pushed deep down whenever he saw you. You moved and sighed and whispered Jaehyun’s name, and not his.

This cannot happen, he thought.

“No, stop.” Doyoung said out loud, flipping himself off his bed, taking the blankets down with him. 

  He flicked on his light and saw you laying in his bed, swimming in Jaehyun’s clothes. You were staring blankly, your eyes having trouble focusing on one thing. You stretched, your shirt climbing up your stomach. He could make out a little mole just underneath your breast.  Doyoung looked away. His gaze was furious. 

“Why are you in my bed?” he asked.

“Why are you yelling at me?” you asked back, placing your hand against your forehead. “Where is Jaehyun?”

  Doyoung peeked and saw that you had pulled your shirt down. You were sitting up in Doyoung’s bed and looking around, your eyes taking in his belongings but not really seeing them. You looked lost, like you yourself couldn’t figure out how you had gotten there, among the plants and paintings. When you looked back up at him, you looked so helpless that Doyoung felt sympathy for you.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked.

You nodded. “I wanted to celebrate with my boyfriend, but where is he?”

“Where is he?” Doyoung asked. “You don’t remember? You should learn to drink more responsibly.”

  You got up from his bed, stumbled, and tried apologizing profusely for being irresponsible. The words that came out of your mouth were jumbled all together, a big mix of information Doyoung didn’t need to know. He pushed you back onto his bed and told you to wait there. He walked briskly across the apartment living room, flicking on lights as he went. He didn’t make it far in finding Jaehyun. His roommate was passed out on the couch, with his shirt off and a sealed condom clutched in his fist. 

Mental memo: Find a new place to live.

  Doyoung went back into his bedroom. You were sound asleep, your hands tucked between your knees, and your head resting on Doyoung’s stuffed penguin. He silently cursed the situation, picked up his blanket and placed it on your body so that you wouldn’t get cold. He grabbed a pillow from his bed and a spare blanket from the hallway closet. He made camp on his hardwood floor, his computer resting on his lap. Every so often, he would check on you to make sure you were alright.

 The very next day, you were too embarrassed to look him directly in the eye when you apologized. Doyoung found it cute how hard it was for you to talk to him. He was basking in it too much, really gloating and living in it. He debated with himself whether he should tell you that his back hurt from sleeping on the floor. Deep down, he wanted you to pity him, to take care of him like he took care of you.

“Give her a break,” Jaehyun said, grabbing an apple from the refrigerator and tearing a long chunk with his teeth. “We got a little carried away with the wine.” 

  To Jaehyun, it wasn’t a big deal. If a girl was in his bed, he would be thankful for the intrusion. For Doyoung, it felt like some kind of violation of privacy. In your drunken state, you could have rummaged through his personal belongings and found things he didn’t want anyone to see. 

“Don’t you ever get drunk?” Jaehyun asked, his attention solely on the apple he was eating. He didn’t care anymore. The situation was past him.

  Doyoung had never gotten so drunk that he’d accidentally slept in someone else’s bed. He was always so careful about those things. 

“Not much.” Doyoung said. 

 He couldn’t get the image of Jaehyun and the condom out of his mind. He shuddered to think of what he would have walked in on had you and Jaehyun not gotten so shitfaced. Doyoung was busy thinking about how you had managed to find your way to his room without realizing, when you spoke. 

“I’m really sorry,” you said. “I don’t usually behave like that. I had a good day at work and I just wanted to celebrate with my boyfriend. It won’t happen again. Doyoung, I promise.”

  His bed smelled of you. He went into his room to clean his sheets and your scent clung to them, so he didn’t wash them. He didn’t tell Jaehyun he had accidentally touched your hip and held your hand. He didn’t even know if you remembered it. He felt there should be an apology from him slipped in there somewhere, but he was waiting for the right moment. 

“It’s okay,” Doyoung said. “Mistakes happen.”

  Jaehyun put his hands on your shoulders and smiled. A peck on your cheek followed. He put on his best mock-stern voice and said, “Just don’t let it happen again, young lady.”

You smiled, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes. You made eye contact for the first time with Doyoung and didn’t waiver. 

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“Come watch this movie with us,” Jaehyun said. “It’s one of those nerdy sci-fi movies you like.”

“I’ll pass,” Doyoung said. “I’ve had a long day.”

“What better way to relax,” you said. “We ordered food, too.”

  You walked out from Jaehyun’s bedroom in his bath robe. Your hair was messy, but you looked pretty. Your legs were bare, and your collarbone was peeking out from between the fabric. It took him a moment to realize you were naked underneath the robe, and in that moment, you had managed to understand exactly what Doyoung was thinking. You smirked and sat down next to Jaehyun, your eyes sparkling in Doyoung’s direction.

“There is plenty of room.” Jaehyun said, patting the couch next to him. 

  Doyoung wasn’t expecting you, but you being there wasn’t that much of a surprise anymore. You had been there a lot since you and Jaehyun started seeing each other, popping up to offer insight and fresh greetings like you belonged there. Doyoung had begun to notice your toothbrush and other belongings appearing here and there. Your smell was everywhere.The week previous, he had found one of your hairs wound around his big toe. 

“You’ll have to excuse me tonight,” Doyoung said. “I have work to finish.”

  Doyoung went into the kitchen to grab himself something quick to eat before he vanished into his bedroom. Jaehyun came over and leaned over the counter, his smile as relaxed as always. He picked at the food Doyoung was throwing together, using his charm and handsome face to get away with it. Doyoung was tired, but he wasn’t in the mood to be combative. 

Jaehyun leaned in further and whispered, “Can I talk to you about something?”

  Doyoung leaned in slightly. Jaehyun looked over at you sitting on the couch, your attention on the television. As comfortable as you seemed in their living space, Doyoung kept a note of how much you still tip-toed around him whenever he was home. He didn’t understand why you did that . He was afraid you were scared of him after finding you in his bed. He wasn’t exactly the friendliest towards you, which was something he felt he would regret. 

“What is it?” Doyoung asked.

“I was thinking of breaking up with her,” Jaehyun said. “I need your advice.”

  Doyoung kept his eyes trained on you. He was speechless. You and Jaehyun got along well. You had sex so much that Doyoung had to buy a better pair of headphones to fully block out the sound. You rarely fought, from what Doyoung could see, and from what Jaehyun talked about.  Jaehyun always had nice things to say about you, and there were a lot of times Doyoung would describe the union as a perfect relationship. Jaehyun wanting out seemed like he was doing so because he was bored, but Doyoung knew it wasn’t his place to say so. Still, he had a hard time keeping the annoyance out of his voice.

“Why?” Doyoung asked, his voice cracking. “Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

  Jaehyun narrowed his eyes for a minute. He said, “Too soon? We’re both just having fun. It was never anything serious. She’s still a really nice girl, and I like her a lot.” 

“Are you breaking up with her right now?” Doyoung asked. “Don’t you think that’s irresponsible and, quite frankly, a fucked up thing to do?” 

  You looked back at them and smiled. Doyoung and Jaehyun parted. To Doyoung, it was far too obvious what was going on, but he didn’t think you had caught on. Jaehyun shot Doyoung a “what the hell do you know?” glance, which infuriated Doyoung. He may have not been the master of dating, but he understood right from wrong. The way Jaehyun was treating you made his body grow hot. He wanted to fight on your behalf, or at least tell you what was going to happen before it broke your heart.

“Come watch the movie with me,” you called. “It’s beginning.” 

  Doyoung looked at Jaehyun who, by the looks of it, no longer wanted Doyoung to join them. Doyoung closed his eyes and opened them. He found himself moving to the couch and sitting on one side of you. Jaehyun plopped down on the other side, his hand taking yours and holding it. Doyoung could feel his thigh against yours. Flashes of you laying his bed clouded his mind. You looked over at him and smiled, your face kind. You deserved better.

                                        |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

  Jaehyun didn’t decide to break up with you. By the sounds of it, he had decided to fuck you as loudly and as much as humanly possible. Doyoung held his headphones to his ears and closed his eyes as tight as he could, but images of the pair of you going at each other like rabid animals wouldn’t leave his mind. It wasn’t until Doyoung fell asleep that he felt some peace. 

 Some time in the early morning, he woke up because his throat was dry. After a coughing fit, Doyoung opened his door to grab a glass of water. At the same time, you opened Jaehyun’s bedroom door. Both you and Doyoung stopped in your tracks and stared at each other from opposite ends of the living room. 

“I’m just getting some water.” Doyoung whispered.

  He could hear Jaehyun snoring loudly through the open door. You shut the bedroom door softly and crossed the space faster than Doyoung. You stood in his way so that he couldn’t grab a cup from the cabinet.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” you asked. 

“What? Me? No?” Doyoung said. 

  His ears were red and hot. You were so close to him that you could just reach out and touch him if you wanted to and he would do nothing about it. There was so much sexual tension on his part that he felt it would shatter every window in the apartment. 

“I know Jaehyun was thinking about breaking up with me,” you said. “And I know you were pissed off on my behalf.”

“I don’t know what you’re talk-”

“-Doyoung,” you interrupted. “It’s okay. Jaehyun and I talked about it. We’re figuring things out. Our relationship is..different.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Doyoung asked.

“Because I wanted to thank you,” you said. “For everything. You let me stay here sometimes without complaining. I know it must bother you. You give me these looks sometimes and I’m scared you hate me, but then there are times your features are so soft and sweet when you see me. I think you have a good heart.”

  Doyoung didn’t know what to say. You moved out of the way so that he could grab a cup and get his drink of water, but he couldn’t move. He breathed your scent in deeply and turned to face you. So many thoughts were fighting to make it up to the surface of his mind.

“I have something to apologize to you for,” he began. “And before I do, I want you to know that it was never my intention to take advantage of you. I thought I was dreaming. I’ve felt bad about it ever since, but when you were drunk and in my bed, I..touched you very inappropriately, on your hip. I also held your hand. If you want to slap me, you can. If you want to do other things from a legal perspective, I understand and I support your decision.”

 He would have kept going if you didn’t touch your finger to his. You hooked them together and swung them back and forth. Doyoung was suddenly transported back to a time when he was young and would get little crushes on the neighborhood girls. 

“It’s okay,” you said. "Mistakes happen, right?”

  You and Doyoung heard a noise coming from Jaehyun’s bedroom. You held his gaze a little too long before walking back to the bedroom for the night. Before you went inside, you turned around to get one last look at Doyoung before you were swallowed by the darkness.

[platypanthewriter]

Hook Possum 4/4

Art by @monsdasarah​ for Harringrove Big Bang!

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

The last night, Robin told one of the weirder bits of Hook Possum lore, staring dead at Steve the whole time.

“Once, long, long time ago,” she began, in a sibilant stage whisper, her flashlight under her chin. “Back when all these trees were still pinecones, a stranger came to the little town you passed driving in, on the highway.” The littlest kids shivered and nodded, scooting closer to the fire. “There wasn’t much going on there then,” Robin went on, grinning evilly, “—and a stranger was exciting. He went to all the dances, and he was handsome, and what do you think happened?” she offered the flashlight to an older girl, who was biting her lips together in glee.

“One of the girls fell in love with him,” she suggested, and Robin smiled.

“Have you never wondered who Hook Possum searches for, with a lantern, in the dead of night,” Robin said, and Steve rubbed his face, feeling it heat.

“...what,” Hook Possum asked, edging closer, and Steve sighed, shaking his head. It’d become habit now to slide his fingers in Hook Possum’s costume at the wrist, between his wrist, the cuff, and the friendship bracelet, and Steve leaned closer. Hook Possum’s hand twitched, but then he relaxed, ducking his head. Steve hoped he was smiling.

“Hook Possum searches for a murderer,” Robin said. “The dancing stranger. Because the night they were to be married, he left Hook Possum buried in a shallow grave.”

“Wait, Hook Possum’s a girl?!” yelled a kid, huge-eyed, and Hook Possum looked around. Steve thought Hook Possum being a possum was more to the point, but nobody else seemed to see a problem.

“It’s just a costume,” said another one. “Hook Possum might be a girl really.”

“That’s right, mom possums carry their young around,” said another one, and a couple kids grabbed Hook Possum’s legs and arm, listening intently.

“Hook Possum came to meet her love, under the yellow poplar in the center of camp,” Robin whispered. “And he buried her there.”

Everybody gasped, and Hook Possum’s mask twitched as he glanced at Steve.

“She’d made a lovely flower crown, and she never got to wear it at her wedding,” Robin said, and Steve’s cheeks heated further. He decided to shift the planks holding her mattress up that night, so she’d fall through in the dead of night. “And that,” Robin intoned, holding the flashlight under her chin, and letting her voice waver creepily, “—is the real reason Hook Possum wanders this earth, alone, with her lantern. She wants to wear her flower crown. She’s looking for her love.”

The kids were all staring at Hook Possum, but as a creepy mass, their eyes followed his arm down to where Steve had his fingers tucked in the cuff and friendship bracelet, and then up again to Steve’s face. “Oh noooo,” he breathed.

“I can make flower crowns,” said Blair Witch Mirror Kid.

“We can have a wedding,” said Sun Safety Girl.

“Tomorrow,” Robin said, her mouth quirked evilly. “We’ll need to get ready.”

“I was at a wedding,” Pink Overalls said. “You throw flowers at people.”

“Before the buses show up,” Robin announced. “We’ll hold a wedding for Hook Possum.”

Steve had wondered before then whether the kids had noticed...whatever it was, between him and Hook Possum. Hook Possum sat next to him at the fire, his mask on Steve’s shoulder, Steve’s fingers tucked against his wrist, feeling his heartbeat. Sometimes the kids looked at them for a while, but they never said anything shitty, and Steve wondered if he’d been obvious the whole time, and Robin, Dustin, Max, and El had been running interference.

“We’ll need vows,” said Bell Witch Mirror Game Kid, who needed a shorter nickname, but Steve shrugged, because it was the second-to-last day of camp.

Hook Possum’s mask kept jerking towards Steve, then away, but he didn’t pull his arm away from Steve’s.

The next morning, Hook Possum got drug away from the cabin first thing, while Steve still had his arms wrapped around the post of the bed, snoring with his head under the pillow. When they let Steve come and look, the kids had drug all the chairs so there was an aisle under the trees, and set up an overturned trash can as the altar.

“Because he’s a possum,” said Dustin, grinning.

“Ha, ha,” Steve said dryly. His cheeks hurt from smiling, but he tried to keep a straight face as little kids showed him the flowers they’d picked, and told him they’d used all his possum facts in the vows. “...wow,” Steve said, thinking about ticks and carrion.

“We’re gonna play kazoos,” said Dustin, and Steve turned to see El earnestly putting a kazoo between her lips, accompanied by Max, Lucas, and Nancy’s kid brother, Mitchell. “...oh,” Steve said, wondering whether he was gonna be able to keep from doubling up with laughter when they were mid-possum vow and the kazoos started.

The kazoos started as they walked Hook Possum out, flower crown and all. “I made you a flower crown too,” Bell Witch Mirror Game Boy told Steve, and Steve dropped to a crouch let him put it on his head. He bit his lips as he turned to watch Hook Possum, bedecked in a flower crown and carrying a bouquet.

“There aren’t rings,” Robin whispered. “I got Sesame Street band-aids. Bert and Ernie.” It occurred to Steve suddenly, his cheeks heating at the actual care she’d put into it, that it might be on him, some day, to organize a more serious kind of wedding for her and her...someone. He bit his lip, trying not to think about how silly it all was, with Hook Possum moving away.

At least nearly everyone he knew had been at camp, he thought, watching Hook Possum bump blindly into the chairs, and listening to a bunch of off-tempo children earnestly try to produce ‘Here Comes The Bride’ on kazoo. They sounded like a lot of wet bees, mostly. At least Dustin would know what Steve was talking about, when he mentioned Hook Possum six times a sentence, or turned to grin at him, and then realized he wasn’t there.

Hook Possum drew closer—Pink Overalls had just grabbed his hand, finally, and hauled him along, and Steve wondered why he was having so much trouble seeing. It was drizzly, and gray, but it wasn’t dark. Pink Overalls threw flowers at Steve’s face, then at Hook Possum’s, and stepped back.

Steve wondered, as ever, what she thought was happening.

“Friends and campers gathered here today,” Dustin began, but Steve didn’t really listen to the vows. He’d slid his finger through Hook Possum’s handcuff, and the friendship bracelet, and his hand was shaking a little.

“Are you seriously okay with this,” he breathed, leaning close to Steve’s head. “This—this is—”

“Ssssshhhh,” Dustin groaned. “Where are the rings?”

“We’ll just wrap it around Hook Possum’s paw and he can put it on later,” Robin decided, and Steve wrapped it around Hook Possum’s furry-gloved finger. It felt really... weddingy, when Hook Possum (with Robin’s help) unwrapped the Bert-and-Ernie bandaid and wrapped it around Steve’s finger. Steve took his paw and squeezed it, wondering what he’d agreed to.

“To love and to cherish, so long as you both shall live?” Robin asked, her eyes steady, and Steve kind of wanted to run, dreading Hook Possum laughing.

“...I do,” he whispered.

“I do too,” Steve said quickly, grabbing Hook Possum’s other paw, and squeezing that one too.

“You may kiss the bride,” announced Dustin, and Steve leaned in and smacked a kiss on the mask, listening to the startled laughter of the man inside.

After that, in the first raindrops, Robin sent the kids to get their packed bags. “The buses will be here in twenty minutes!” she yelled, stomping off, and Steve pulled back from hugging Hook Possum as hard as he could.

“I have to take the costume off,” Hook Possum whispered. “It’s starting to rain.”

It hadn’t rained for the whole three weeks of camp, not during the day, and it felt like a sign camp was truly over. Steve nodded, squeezing the dirty old costume paws in his hands, and wondering about the human inside them.

“He said you could kiss the bride,” Hook Possum said in kind of a weird choked voice, standing perfectly still, and Steve froze.

“You...saying I can see you?” he whispered back, as the rain started to penetrate his hair, cold against his head.

“...I’m saying I’m taking it off,” Hook Possum hissed, dragging Steve back towards the cabin. “Don’t look. But, uh. If—if you—he said you could kiss the bride, so—”

“I want to,” Steve told him, panting as they ran. “I want to, I do.”

“Okay,” Hook Possum laughed, kind of unevenly. “Yeah.”

Steve helped him get out of the damn costume for the last time, untying the little cords slowly, and sliding the warm, wet, musty fabric down Hook Possum’s muscular shoulders. As a show of good faith, he opened Robin’s luggage and took out one of her kneesocks, and wrapped it around his eyes. That done, he ran his hands down Hook Possum’s arms to find his bracelet and cuff, and a warm, strong hand to run his fingers over. He did the same on the other side, finding that Hook Possum hadn’t put the band-aid on.

“Lemme do it right,” Steve asked, and Hook Possum stilled. Steve fiddled blindly with the little tabs, but he got it on there, and slid their fingers together. “...they fit nice,” he said softly, and Hook Possum sighed. “Lemme take your mask off,” Steve tried next, and Hook Possum let him, let him slide his hands up over the pulse pounding in Hook Possum’s neck, and lift the mask away, before running his thumb over a stubbly jaw, and sliding his fingers into soft, sweaty curls.

Hook Possum stepped away. “Just let me get my feet out,” he whispered.

Steve stood there with a sock around his head for a long second, feeling stupid, when warm, chapped lips met his. Hook Possum’s breath was shaky.

“...gonna miss you,” Steve told him, as soon as he could draw breath, licking his lips, and Hook Possum made a little grunty whining noise in the back of his throat, and kissed him again. “We’re married now,” Steve told him. “You aren’t gonna run out on me, are you?”

“...this was never real,” Hook Possum said, his voice cracking, and Steve nodded once, his eyes stinging, and walked out. He yanked the sock off his head and blinked up at the rain, then yelped as Hook Possum dragged him back against the side of the cabin, the rain slicking up their hands and faces as they kissed again. “I wish it was real,” Hook Possum whispered.

“Give me your phone number, at least,” Steve whispered, kissing the warm, soft mouth against his. “Your name?!”

“...sorry,” Hook Possum muttered, pulling away. “Don’t look.”

Steve didn’t. He stood there in the rain for five entire minutes. His shoulders shook because of the warm Indiana summer rain, and for no other reason.

“He’ll meet you at the diner,” Max’s voice said, as Steve was paying for a stack of frozen TV dinners at Bradley’s Big Buy, and skateboarded off, without telling Steve when, so he yelled incoherently after her and drove to the diner. He ordered coffee as his TV dinners slowly defrosted in his car, and watched the door, then, finally, when the waitress wouldn’t go away, he ordered pie. It was really good, he thought distractedly, chomping bites of lemon meringue as he stared through the door at the parking lot.

Three hours—and a lot of pie—later, Billy Hargrove pulled up in front, and Steve made a face, wondering if he dared risk running to the bathroom. Billy lingered outside, cleaning his windshield wipers, and checking under the hood, blocking Steve’s view of everyone else who might drive up, and in his annoyance, Steve failed to notice he’d received and finished another refill on his coffee, and the bathroom question was becoming desperate.

He pressed his knees together, glancing at the clock, and gritting his teeth.

Billy glanced in, saw Steve, and stopped, watching him like he still kinda wanted to beat his teeth in, or something. Steve knocked back half a mug of coffee in sheer annoyance, and then glowered down at it, mentally apologizing to his bladder.

The door creaked open, and Steve jerked to attention, nearly knocking his latest empty pie plate off the counter with his elbow, but it was just Billy, slouching, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He was tugging at his cuff, one hand stuffed in his pocket.

“Harrington,” he said, and Steve nodded, trying to see past him through the door. Billy huffed a laugh. “...you got a hot date?” he asked, and Steve nearly said yes, but then thought what it would look like, when a man showed up.

“None of your beeswax,” he said tiredly, wishing Max had said when. “Hey,” he called to the waitress. “How early d’you open in the morning?”

“We’re open five o’clock in the morning to eleven o’clock at night,” she said, and Steve winced, hoping Hook Possum showed up before, like, tomorrow afternoon. He had visions of himself keeping vigil for days, glutting himself on pie, and sleeping in the parking lot.

Billy turned and stalked back out, shaking his head, and Steve decided to risk the bathroom. He sprinted back out to see the parking spot in front empty, and sat back down, opening the pie menu.

“Your friend left,” said the waitress.

“What?!” Steve said, jerking his head around to the door. “Just now?!”

“The boy with the shirt and jacket made of blue jeans,” she said, cocking her head like Billy’s fashion sense was annoying, which to be fair, it was.

“Oh,” Steve said, deflating.

“He came back and asked how long you’d waited. If you’d said anything about who you were waiting for,” she said, eyeing him narrowly, and Steve blinked back at her.

Max’s voice suddenly sounded in his head again. Uh, he lives on my street. She’d sounded hesitant, which was very unlike Max.

He’s the big brother I never had, she’d said, and Steve had assumed that couldn’t be Billy.

You’re the son of the boss’s boss?! He heard again, in Hook Possum’s raspy, high-pitched tones. You could get me fired.

“...Billy,” Steve said aloud.

“Is this some kind of Shop Around The Corner thing? I love that movie.” the waitress asked, as Steve scrambled for his wallet, thinking about Billy’s curls, and how he’d been afraid of Steve seeing him with the mask off, even once they were friends. “Was he supposed to carry a certain book or something? Were you penpals?” she asked idly, leaning on the counter. “You should probably go talk to him, if you can walk, after all that pie.”

“He’s moving to California,” Steve said, shoving a wad of cash at her without bothering to count it, and running out to his car.

“Good luck!” she called after him. “Idiot,” he thought he heard, and his cheeks burned.

When he pulled up to the Hargrove house, it wasn’t lit up. He ran around to Max’s window—he knew where that was, from driving Dustin and Lucas around—and tossed a pinecone at it. After a few thudded into the glass, the blinds shot up, and she glowered out, then glared down at him, yanking the window up. “The hell are you doing here?!” she hissed.

“Billy’s Hook Possum,” Steve stage-whispered back at her, cupping his face. “Isn’t he?”

She frowned harder, glancing over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?!”

“Come let me in,” Steve told her, and she shook her head.

“He’s not home! Did you miss him?! God, you’re such morons—”

“Where’s his room?” Steve hissed back, and she pointed, leaning out.

“He left like an hour ago,” she shot back, waving at the road. “We’d hear his car.”

“Let me in, I’ll wait for him,” Steve whispered up, and she groaned, leaning her head against the wood of the window.

“Fine,” she said, slamming it shut. A few minutes later, the window next to it opened, and Max’s head poked out. “Get up here,” she said. “And be quiet, you’ll get him in trouble, his dad’s watching the ballgame.”

“Okay,” Steve said, gauging the jump to the windowsill.

He wasn’t graceful, but he made it in, kicking off the siding and getting an arm inside. He clambered in with Max’s help, and looked around in the refracted light from the streetlamps. Everything was in boxes. “...when’s he leaving,” Steve asked, his throat tight.

“He was gonna leave today, but I got him to meet you at the diner,” Max growled. “What happened?!”

“He didn’t say anything, he just left,” Steve groaned, his eye catching on something over on the mirrored dresser thingy. He squinted in the dim light, leaning in—and he was right, it was the flower crown Hook Possum had worn for their ‘marriage’. The flowers were wilted, their petals crumbly in his hands, and Steve leaned to smell them, remembering.

He shivered, trying not to laugh, because he was right, Billy Hargrove was Hook Possum, and now everything was even more complicated. Billy Hargrove hates me, Steve thought, bewildered. He HATES me, he nearly beat my face in.

“That’s his car,” Max said, staring at nothing, and then Steve could hear it, through the open window.

“I just need to talk to him,” he said, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you fucking do,” she muttered, slamming the door on her way out.

Alone in Billy’s room, Steve wandered around, squinting at the couple of posters still on the wall. He found the light switch, and leaned against the wall near it as footsteps came down the hall, and the doorknob turned.

Steve waited until Billy shut the door and wandered over to the window before flipping on the light, and Billy yelled.

“Holy cross eyed jesus, Harrington,” he panted, staring. “What—why—”

“You’re Hook Possum,” Steve said. “Right?”

“What,” Billy said, backing away. He had his arms up like he wanted to fight, but as Steve stepped closer he just flinched back, his head and shoulders thudding against the wall. Steve could see a glint against his denim cuff, and grabbed his wrist, sliding a finger down inside.

“My friendship bracelet,” he said, feeling too relieved for a true smirk. “...and you still haven’t gotten this handcuff off?!” he asked, sliding the clinking metal up Billy’s wrist.

“Looks kinda rad, don’t you think,” Billy whispered, swallowing. “Why’re you here, Harrington?”

“You’re Hook Possum,” Steve said again, running his fingers along the soft skin on the underside of Billy’s wrist, under the cuff and the friendship bracelet.

Billy watched his face, licking his lips, and Steve remembered how it’d felt kissing him. He’d kissed Billy Hargrove, he thought, his brain stumbling to a halt as it reorganized Steve’s memories to fit the new facts.

“What happens now,” Billy asked, and Steve let him go, stepping back as he remembered nothing had actually changed.

“...you’re moving to California,” Steve said, looking around at the boxes. “I—I guess I can send postcards now. Now I know the big secret.” It was almost worse, knowing more about Hook Possum, and having to watch him leave.

“...you’re not pissed,” Billy asked, raising his eyebrows, and Steve considered, and then shook his head.

It was hard to imagine being angry at Hook Possum, even if Hook Possum was Billy Hargrove. “Nah,” Steve said, stalking over to sit on the bed. “Thanks, uh, thanks for meeting me. I guess. I know you didn’t want to see me again.” He’d thought Hook Possum liked him, which was stupid, he realized. “I should go, huh.”

“I didn’t know you’d be there, at the camp,” Billy said, laughing. He sounded tense. “I thought I was getting away from Hawkins.”

Max knew, Steve thought, remembering planning with Dustin and everyone. “Yeah. I figured.”

“You wishing you didn’t know, now?” Billy asked, with another laugh, sitting in the window, and gripping the sill with white knuckles.

“...no,” Steve said, honestly. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been this...wary distance.

“You want your friendship bracelet back?” Billy sneered, and Steve just shook his head, and got up to leave out the door, if Billy was gonna block the window. The eight slices of pie were roiling in his stomach with probably two whole pots of coffee, and he felt like he might throw up. “Harrington, fuck, wait,” Billy growled, pushing himself up to stalk over and hold the door shut. “Why’d you come over here,” he hissed, his low register all Billy Hargrove, who’d beaten Steve unconscious.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, laughing, a little, because Hook Possum had been right. Summer camp wasn’t the real world, and he wasn’t married to a magic possum. He yanked on the doorknob, but Billy leaned his weight against the door, watching his face.

“Do you still want me,” Billy asked, grabbing Steve’s arm.

Steve wanted to get out of the conversation, and he almost dodged the question with a what do you mean, or a I have to go, but Billy’s hand was warm on his skin, and nervously sweaty.

Steve nodded.

Billy made a noise in his throat, kind of a strangled choke, and grabbed him, yanking him into a clumsy kiss, all teeth, because he was laughing. “You’ll make me another friendship bracelet, right,” he said breathlessly, like it was important, and Steve nodded, losing track of what was going on. He ran his finger along Billy’s wrist, and hooked it around the friendship bracelet/cuff accessory, and Billy kissed him again, leaning in. “If—if I’m here, you’ll make me another one.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, dizzy with kisses.

“Make us rings,” Billy whispered, smiling so wide his kisses were a little wet against Steve’s cheek, and ear. Steve’s bones creaked from how hard Billy was squeezing him.

“...can’t believe you haven’t taken the handcuff off,” Steve whispered, against Billy’s jaw. “...god, I hope nobody ever asks how we met. Stay out of the trash.”

Billy snorted a laugh, leaning his face into Steve’s neck with a sigh, and then pressing soft kisses up it, so Steve started having wild thoughts about Billy’s mattress, five feet away. “Y’know,” Billy said softly, “I kinda hope they do ask, actually. You ashamed of your magical...haunted possum...girlfriend?”

“God I missed you,” Steve said, snorting a laugh. His vision blurred with tears.

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

Tiny Pretty Phantoms

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Title: Tiny Pretty Phantoms

Words: 2241 (only a short one)

Summary: Charlie and his girlfriend are separated by work.

Requested: Sort of. The lovely and talented @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ got this request. Charlie x reader where the reader is on a tv show like ahs or something that’s not necessarily “kid friendly”. But as she’s not taking them atm, I decided to swipe this one. I hope the anon who requested it doesn’t mind.

TW: Swearing, alluding to sexual intercourse. That’s it I think. If I miss anything, message me so I can edit.

Author’s notes: I’m baccccckkkk. This was my way of getting back into writing reader fic. It’s been a while, and I hope y’all haven’t forgotten me. Also, while I’ve seen Tiny Pretty Things, I know nothing about the cast, so anything I’ve written, is completely made up.

Being back at home in my parent’s home was both reassuring and strange all at the same time. I’d been living in L.A. for almost two years, hundreds of miles away from home. While I missed my family like crazy, I loved being out in the world, being independent, and chasing my dreams.

However, rejection after rejection after rejection were beginning to weigh heavy on me and I had been starting to regret making the move. I’d been considering heading back home and teaching dance to kids. Then, I met Charlie through a mutual friend.

From the moment I met him, there was something that drew me to him; it wasn’t particularly hard. He was charismatic, funny, and crazy talented. The good looks were an added bonus. From that first meeting, we’d been inseparable and after six months, I gave up my apartment and moved in with Charlie and his friends.

We both booked jobs on upcoming TV shows within a week of one another, and we’d celebrated the news hard. A week of partying with your friends had wrecked the apartment, but it had totally been worth it. The main difference between our shows were the target audience. His, Julie and the Phantoms was aimed at a younger demographic to mine, Tiny Pretty Things. I was just glad to be using my ballet background as well as my acting abilities. He was also playing a main character, while I was to be in the background.

I was jolted from my memories by my phone ringing, Charlie’s face filling the screen. With a smile, I answered the facetime call.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, babe. I miss you.” Charlie was still in L.A., but he was at a boot camp thing that the legendary Kenny Ortega was running.

“I miss you too. How’s it going?” in answer to my question, he held up his hand. I could see band aids wrapped around his fingers. “What did you do?”

“It’s nothing. Guitar war wounds.”

“Poor baby.” I snarked, grinning at the mock upset look on his face. “Oh please. You’re loving every minute.”

“Babe, I really am.” His grin was wide. “When do you fly out to Toronto?”

“Not for another three weeks. I’m back in L.A. the day after tomorrow though. Will I get to see you?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if we get any time off before we head up to Vancouver for filming.”

I couldn’t help the groan that escaped me. I hadn’t seen him for over two weeks, and I was going insane. It was one of the reasons behind my trip to see my family. They were enough to distract me, at least until I climbed into my childhood bed, the bed that only held me at night. That was when I missed him the most.

“That sucks.” I felt the lump in my throat, an indication I was close to tears.

“I know, babe. I know. I’m gonna try and get back, even if it’s just one night.”

“Please do.” I missed him, missed waking up next to him, missed just goofing around and hanging out with him. He was the man I loved, and I hated us being apart.

:: ::

I’d been in Toronto for almost six weeks. A month and a half had passed since I last saw Charlie, and it was killing me. It wasn’t as if I was alone, far from it. I may not have been playing a main character, but the entire cast of Tiny Pretty Things were close, even those of us in the background. We’d all been put through our dancing paces until we were exhausted – that had a habit of bringing people together.

Charlie and I spoke most days, if we could, and when we did, we were often interrupted by cast mates. Through our facetime calls I became friends with Jeremy, Owen, and Madison, and he became friends with the girls I was rooming with, and Brendan who played Shane. He and I had been partnered up during rehearsals and had become close. It didn’t bother him I wasn’t a main character and he was.

I had a rare night off while the main cast were working hard on some night scenes, so I was able to kick back in my room and relax. And I made the most of it. While a hot bath was running, I connected my phone up to my speaker and hit play on a relaxing playlist Charlie had made for me before we’d had to say our goodbyes and fly to opposite end of Canada.

I’d just sank into the steaming water, bubbles up to my chin when my phone rang. Reaching over, I managed to pick it up, and saw Charlie’s face on the screen. Quickly swiping, I answered the call, despite wanting to stare at the photo I’d taken almost a year ago when we’d gone camping.

“Well, if I’d have known you were in the tub, I would have called sooner.” He grinned as he spoke, making me roll my eyes.

“Charles Gillespie, you’re a damn perv.” I attempted to scold him as he pretended to try and look around the screen to see if he could see anything. Joke was on him, the bubbles came up to my neck.

“Only for you.” I laughed at the corny line. “Hey, why are you in the bath anyways?”

“Because I ache like a motherfucker and I don’t have any night shoots tonight. So, a hot bath is in order. I’ve been dancing almost non-stop for ten hours a day for six weeks. I never did this much when I was with the company.” I knew I was whining; knew I sounded like a petulant child, but I needed to get it off my chest. All of us in the cast moaned to one another, but it wasn’t the same as venting to my boyfriend, no matter how much I loved my job.

“I’m sorry, babe. If I could take the aches away, I would.” I knew he would too.

“I know. Ignore me, I shouldn’t be putting this on you. How’s your set?”

We chatted for almost an hour, Charlie making me laugh about his previous night’s filming eating what he said felt like hundreds of cold hot dogs, making me laugh so much, my stomach was starting to hurt when I climbed out of the bath – much to his enjoyment – and wrapped myself up in a large, soft towel. We carried on talking as I made my way into my room and got myself ready for bed.

“Look, I gotta go. But I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” I couldn’t help but sigh when the call ended, and as I snuggled up in bed, wearing one of his t-shirts, I also couldn’t help crying. It was the longest we’d been apart in over six months, and even though I was loving my job, it hurt how much I missed him.

:: ::

When I walked onto set the following day, it felt as if everyone was acting a little shifty. No one seemed to look at me directly and whenever I initiated a conversation, they either found something else to do, or the director made us begin working.

“Hey, we’re all going out for dinner and karaoke tonight. Make sure you look pretty.” Brendan whispered in my ear as we got into position in the ballet class, ready for our scene.

“Uh, okay. Sure.” He gave me a smile before walking away.

We’d all be out a few times during filming and the rehearsals we’d had before, but this was the first I’d heard about plans for tonight. Rolling my neck and stretching my arms, I put it out of my mind as I followed the instructions of the director as the scene began around me.

By the end of the day, I was yet again exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to do was go out. But, as I packed up my gear, putting my comfiest shoes on, Brendan came over.

“Don’t forget we’re going out. We’re all meeting up in about an hour. Make yourself pretty.”

“Can I give it a miss? I’m ready to have a shower and crawl into bed.” He knew how I was feeling, I could see it etched onto his face too.

“Not tonight, sweetheart. Attendance is mandatory for all.” He flashed me a wide smile before spinning away from me, no doubt off to get ready.

When I got back to the apartment I was sharing with a couple of the other female background cast, they were almost ready. The three of them ushered me into the bathroom to shower, telling me to find a nice dress.

The shower did reinvigorate me, and by the time I was dressed and applying my make-up, I was feeling much better, and was even looking forward to some great food and a good night. There were no shoots the next day, so we were able to let our hair down for the night.

When we all met up, the atmosphere was electric. We’d all worked so hard, and were more than ready for a night of not having to worry about getting up early or having to be in hair and make-up at the crack of dawn.

“Ready for a great night?” Brendan asked, linking arms with me as our huge group began to walk to a restaurant nearby we’d all been to on more than one occasion.

“I am actually. Thanks for making me come.”

“No worries, sweetheart.” He placed a kiss on the top of my head before turning to talk to the two guys behind us.

:: ::

Moving from the restaurant after dinner, we all made our way to a club where all of us were able to let go. I got myself a drink from the bar, and stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching my cast mates and friends having the time of their life, showing off their dancing skills. Laughing, I finished my drink, I put my empty glass down and joined them, losing myself in the deep bass. Brendan was in the center, lapping up the attention in a way only he could. He and Barton, who played Oren in the show, were busting out one of their routines from the show and had attracted a hell of a crowd.

As everyone whooped and hollered, I moved away, needing to head to the bathroom. I pulled my phone out of my purse to check if I’d missed any messages or calls from Charlie, but my screen was blank beyond a photo of the two of us. Disappointment flooded me as I shoved the phone back into my purse. Just as I zipped it up, I crashed into someone, strong hands grabbing my waist to stop me falling over.

Thinking my mind was playing tricks on me as my senses were invaded by the aroma of Charlie, the aroma I knew as well as my own. I looked up to find my boyfriend smiling down at me.

“What… how… huh?”

“Surprise, by airplane, Brendan organized it. Hew knew you were missing me as much as I missed you, So Kenny gave me a couple days off while Madi does some scenes with Jadah.”

“You’re really here?” I still wasn’t sure I was hallucinating.

“I’m really here, until tomorrow afternoon.”

With a squeal, I flung my arms around his neck, and kissed him. The evening suddenly got one hundred percent better.

:: ::

Waking up wrapped up in Charlie’s arms was the best thing. I’d missed it so much, and I knew I was going to struggle when he had to leave again, but I felt so happy being with him.

After he’d surprised me at the club, we’d mingled with my friends for a while before slinking away, going back to the apartment and making the most of the quiet as we got reacquainted with one another, multiple times, all night. So much so that when I managed to untangle myself from Charlie’s arms and legs to go to the bathroom, I ached in a completely different way I had been from work.

Once I was finished in the bathroom, I swiped my phone off the counter in the kitchen and sent a text to Brendan.

Thank you. I owe you one.

Once it had sent, I set the phone down and crawled back into bed with Charlie, making the most of having him with me. Especially naked.

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Tagging: (strikethrough unable to tag) @dream-a-little-bigger-x​​ @calamitykaty​ @crybabyddl​​ @xplrreylo​ @morganayennefertyrell​ @lovesanimals​​ @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve​ @echocharm17618​​ @kinda-really-lost @n0wornever​ @all-in-fangirl​ @5sosmukefan​ @kcd15​ @charliesmountains @amazinggracy​ 

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[13uswntimagines]

Together (USWNT x Reader)

Request: team x reader where r gets hurt (needs crutches) during practice and the team is of course really worried for her and r stops eating and is upset and takes it out on the team the rest of camp (because she doesn’t think she can make it back in time for Tokyo) but it gets resolved after reader is crying and team is there to comfort her? (maybe some christen x reader) could you also do at the end where the reader either gets named to the roster/ the first game since injury?

You stared unseeingly at the hotel room ceiling, the doctor's words rolling endlessly through your mind. It was an accident, you knew that and you still loved Ali, but the situation fucking sucked. It wicked that her tackle had been late. It sucked that your ankle had gone in the opposite direction of your body. It really sucked that you had needed surgery to fix the compound fracture that had resulted in the collision. And it Really Really fucking sucked that you would “be lucky to walk without a limp for the rest of your life, much less run around on a field,”. 

You were only 22, and the doctor had basically but a death sentence on your career. The only reason you hadn’t been sent home was that your team moms Kelley and Alex hadn’t made the argument that there was no one there to take care of you. It would have been easier if they had let you leave. Then at least you would have more time to figure out how to tell them that you were never going to play soccer again. 

A knock sounded from the hotel room door, and you glanced at it for a few seconds, before retiring your attention to counting the texture in the ceiling, contemplating what the fuck you were supposed to do with the rest of your life. 

The knocking stopped for a second, before starting up louder. Maybe if you didn’t respond, they would think you were asleep and leave you alone. You didn’t want visitors right now anyway. No one else deserved to have the rest of their camp ruined with your sour mood. You needed to make them hate you so it wouldn’t hurt as much when you left. When they stopped talking to you because you weren’t useful anymore. When you lost the only family you had ever had. 

But the telltale click of the door lock told you that the women would not be so easily deterred. You didn’t bother to look at the women as they slid into bed beside you, Kelley on your left and Alex on your right. 

“What ya looking at kiddo?” Kelley asked, nudging your shoulder softly. 

“Just thinking,” You shrugged, your eyes never leaving the ceiling, even as Alex drew circles on your cheeks with her fingers, sharing worried looks with Kelley. Their little ray of sun was even more cloudy than it had been when they left earlier. One of them should have stayed with you. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alex asked, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying to coax you to finally look at her. 

You bite your lip, your eyebrows furrowing as you try to get the words past the lump in your throat. 

“I can’t play,” 

You could practically feel Alex’s eye roll at the statement. And you frowned. She didn’t understand that this wasn’t just a temporary thing. 

“Don’t worry about that right now sweetie. Just worry about getting better,” She murmured, using a careful finger to tilt your head so you were making eye contact with her. You stared into her concerned blue eyes, praying that she couldn’t see just how much pain you were in. She didn’t need that burden. 

“Yeah ducky, just work on getting better and you’ll be tearing up the field with us again in no time,” Kelley added, propping her head on your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, nodding slightly. 

Normally they would have attacked you with tickles to get you to smile, but this time they didn’t. They simply sat up and offered you their hands. Even they had given up on you already, what was going to happen when they found out that you were useless to them now. 

“Now, dinners ready and you already skipped lunch today,” Alex said softly as you stared at their hands in discontent. 

“Wasn’t hungry,” You grumbled. The truth was that you didn’t want to confront your new reality. You wanted to stay in your little bubble and pretend that everything was going to work out fine. 

“Sure you weren’t,” Kelley laughed, growing tired of your resistance to them, and grabbing your shoulder to force you into a sitting position. 

“What we mean is that you’re not getting out of it,” Alex shot Kelley a disapproving look, but helped Kelley hoist you up. Her forehead wrinkled when you didn’t laugh at their antics, and instead just crossed your arms. 

“I hate you guys,” You huffed, pouting. 

“No you don’t, now, up you get,” Kelley laughed, kissing your cheek. 

“I can do it myself,” You hissed once you were sitting upright. You grabbed your crutches and forced yourself to your feet. The crutches rubbed uncomfortably against your ribs, but you ignored it. You didn’t need any more help. You didn’t need to give them any more reason to leave you. 

“Stubborn as always,” Kelley sighed, opening the door for you, and you held in your groan. They probably wouldn’t even miss you. 

The ride to the dining room was spent in uncomfortable silence. Neither woman quite sure how to broach the subject of your foul mood. 

“Hey gimpy, need help with your plate,” Ashlyn smiled, clapping you on the shoulder and nearly knocking you over. Kelley glared at her, reaching out a hand to steady you. 

“I got it,” You grumbled, shrugging off their steadying hands and beginning to maneuver yourself towards the food table. You didn’t want to eat (what was the point) but if you didn’t, they would make an even bigger deal than they already were. 

They watched you struggle for a moment, trying to balance a plate and hobble along the food table. Ali sighed, standing and making her way over to you.

“I’ll help you, this is my fault after all,” she said softly, grabbing the plate before you dumped its contents onto the floor by accident. 

“I said I got it,” You huffed, looking away from the woman, frowning as Christen joined you. God, you weren’t a child. You could get a plate of food by yourself. Ignoring the good intentions of your crush, you ground your teeth toge

“Is this all you’re going to eat? You need to keep your strength up kid,” Kelley scoffed at your choice of three dinosaur nuggets. 

“Like it matters now? I can’t play so what’s the point,” You grumbled, ripping the plate out of Ali’s hand and struggling to the closest seat. Christen sat down heavily beside you, followed by Ali, Ash, Kelley and Alex. 

“I’m sorry Y/n,” Ali whispered. It killed her to see you so distraught. To know that she was the reason you were so upset. 

You glanced up from your nuggets, making eye contact with the woman. You took note of the pained crinkles by her eyes. She didn’t have a right to be in pain. You were the one who just had their future destroyed. 

“I know,” You shrugged halfheartedly, playing with your nuggets rather than eating them. 

“You sound super convincing,” Ashlyn rolled her eyes. 

“Well, what would you like me to say?” You snipped back, quirking your eyebrow up at her. 

“We’re not your enemy babe,” Christen soothed, rubbing you back. 

“I know I’m just-.” You huffed, shaking your head frustratedly. What were you? You were angry, sad, a complete and total washout now. What was the point? You paused, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. To do what needed to be done. It would hurt less in the end. “I’m tired and not hungry and I just wanna go to bed,” You finished, staring down at your untouched nuggets. Your hands fidgeted in your lap for a second before you reached for your crutches. 

Your fingertips brushed the dreaded walking device at the wrong angle, sending it crashing to the ground. Just like your dreams. You shoved your plate away, leaning as far as you could in your chair to retrieve the crutch, only for the other one to join it on the floor. You glared at the items, oblivious to the worried mother hens watching you fall apart over being unable to get them on your own. 

It was Christen who took potty on you, lifting the crutches off the floor and presenting them to you. “Let me help you,” she smiled sadly, and you grit your teeth. Your cheeks flamed red as you grabbed the items. 

“Aw kid, don’t feel bad, we all need a little help sometimes,” Ashlyn smiled kindly. The rage and embarrassment boiled inside you. They didn’t fucking get it. 

“Im not a fucking invalid. I don’t need your fucking help. I don’t need these or anything else,” You growled, throwing your crutch across the room and into the food fable with a crash, the other on suffering the same fate as you forced yourself to stand. Pain shot down your leg, but you ignored it, determined to prove to them all that you could do it yourself. 

The room sat in stunned silence. They knew you were upset, but you had never ever lashed out like this before. 

Christen was the first person to jump into action. She held her hands out as she approached you, as if you were a wounded puppy she needed to show she meant no harm. 

“Babe, don’t, you’ll just make it worse and if you ever wanna come back..-“ she tried softly, wrapping her arm under your armpit in an attempt to prevent you from putting weight on your injured foot. You shrugged her off, taking a bold (and excruciatingly painful step forward). What was the point. You would never see the pitch again anyway. 

“You just don’t fucking get it so you? I’ll never ever get to come back. That sloppy tackle made it so I’ll be lucky to walk normally again, much less kick a fucking ball,” You spat, tears finally making their way down your face. 

You could feel the weight of the teams putting gaze. The heaviness that filled the room, like a wave of realization crashing over them. You kept your eyes on the floor, you hand clenching and unclenching around nothing, eating for them to disown you. For the next logical step to happen. 

“Y/n,” Ali started, tears evident in her voice, but your venomous scowl stopped her. “I’m fucking useless now, so just fucking drop it, alright?!” 

You attempted to take another step, using the chair as support, and forcing yourself forward. You nearly collapsed as your full weight landed on your very injured foot. You were stubborn, and you were determined to give them a reason for you to stay. You wobbled, nearly keeling over from the pain, gritting your teeth to stop the anguished cry from threatening to spill out. 

You pulled yourself back upright, about to take another step away from the chair supporting you, but soft calming hands on your shoulders stopped you. “Y/n Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself, more, and then we’ll have even bigger odds to beat,” Christen murmured into your ear, hugging you back into her chest and supporting your weight as she sat back into a chair and pulled you into her lap.  

“Yeah kid, fuck what the doctors say. You’re amazing and so stubborn that I dare them to try and keep you down,” Kelley added, coming to kneel in front of you, her hand in your knee. 

“Plus you’ve got all of us behind you, no matter what,” Alex said, coming up behind her. A sob ripped from your throat. That was your greatest fear. That they would leave you. Your family only tolerated you when they wanted something when you were successful, so you thought your soccer family would feel the same. 

“You promise?” You asked softly. 

“Absolutely kid,” Alex and Kelley said together firmly. You nodded and allowed the women to hold you as you cried. You would all get through this. Together. 

*****

You bounced lightly on your feet, cracking your neck as you waited for the match to start. There had been a tremendous amount of time and effort put into this moment. Hours upon hours of rehab, soccer training and therapy, but here you were in the starting 11 for the Olympic finals. 

“You ready baby?”  Christen hummed, her arms wrapping around you, kissing your cheek before resting her chin on your shoulder. 

You smiled, grabbing her hand. The woman had been instrumental in your recovery, and though it had taken you an embarrassingly, long time to ask her out, you had sacked up. You loved the woman so much that it scared you, and now she was your girlfriend (bum leg or not). “Always baby,” 

You had come a long way, and you had so much further to go. You would win like you always did. Together.