#I wanna grab his head and squeak him like a rubber duck

[rabbitsonthemoon]

Special love for convoluted, fucked up little evil plans. Mephiles meddled with the fabric of time and space itself to manipulate events into motion on a level befitting of a god. Unfortunately, in all that grandiose scheming and monologuing and murdering in order to make the strong Princess Elise cry, releasing Iblis through her tears, he overlooked the most convenient solution:

pepper spray.

[lovingchrissposts]

mama

Warnings: slight swearing, angst? Use of y/n, crying, babies. (Warning to me.) stress, anxiety

Requested: yes but lost the ss

Summary: y/n had a bad day and her kid Destiny isn’t listening so she gets upset and starts to cry in her husbands arm and then her baby starts crying for her, proving her bad feelings wrong.

Dad chris x fem reader

I was sitting on the cold marble tile floor of the bathroom next to our toddler Destiny. She had tan skin, caramel brown curly hair that bounced right above her shoulders with golden brown eyes beaming up at me.

“Baby please just let me put you in the bath? You can play with ducky.” I beg grabbing her rubber duck from the Luke warm bath water and squeezing it making a squeak noise.

“I no no wanna mama.” Destiny yells and sits on the floor starting to have a tantrum. “Destiny, please sweetie. Mommy’s had a long day.” I sigh running my hands through my brown hair down my shoulders.

Destiny looks at me with a sad expression and i take a deep breath trying not to snap at her. “Honey.” I say putting my hands under her arms and lifting her up but she just kicks her arms and legs at me making me set her back down.

She starts to scream and cry before I hear the front door open and it’s my husband Chris coming home from work. “Okay, okay, shhh..” I whisper starting to feel tears prick at my eyes.

She’s never been like this.

I hear the door open and I look up to see my husband standing in the door frame, still in his work suit his hair a little messy. “Hey mama, hey destiny how’s my baby?” Chris whispers bending down and kisses my cheek.

I look up at him and he sees the tears in my eyes knowing I’m exhausted and need a break.

Chris swooped up destiny into his arms flying her around. “Is this my favorite little girl?” Chris asks smiling at destiny and looks at me and moves his head to the side motioning for me thst it’s okay for me to go.

“Dada!” Destiny yells giggling and holding onto Chris.

Her giggles echo through my head as I walk into me and Chris’s bed room and into our master bathroom. I walk up to the mirror and reach for my cotton pads and micellar water to remove my makeup.

I finish taking off my makeup and get a quick shower. I couldnt stop over thinking and stressing over everything that was going on. I just feel like I wasn’t fit for taking care of a fucking child.

I get out of the shower and put on a satin spaghetti sleeve night gown before leaving the bathroom and getting in on the right side of me and Chris’s shared bed.

I pull the covers up to the dip in mh waist and laying on my side. A few minutes go by and the door quietly opens and Chris walks in straight to the closet to change.

He walks out s few minutes later in just a pair of boxers and no shirt. Without either of us saying a word he gets in bed behind me and spoons me from behind.

“Im right here. It’s okay,” he whispers into my ear resting his head on my shoulder with his lips right next to my cheek.

I feel my emotions start to get the best of my and my throat tightens as my warm tears spill out of my eyes making me sniffle gently and grab Chris’s hand.

“Oh y/n.” Chris gently whispers and rolls me over so I’m facing him. He takes my face in his hands.

“I-I don’t-“ I start to stay but he shushes me and presses his finger to my lips. “Shhh.. ma, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

I nod and sniffle shutting my eyes. “Look at me y/n” Chris states in a gentle tone so i look up at him. “You’re okay, just relax. I’m right here.” He whispers kissing my forehead and i sniffle dipping my head into his chest and closing my eyes.

I feel his fingers rub my waist and the small of my back through my loose night gown.

After a few minutes I’m calmed down and Chris pulls back to look at me. “Alright, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong baby.” He says reaching onto my bed side table to grab a hair tie because I always get hot after crying.

“Thanks,” I whisper and tie my hair back looking up at him. He just smiles down at me and rubs my waist waiting for me to talk.

“I just feel like Destiny prefers you over me all the time. I wouldn’t care but it’s getting to the point she won’t listen to me, let me hold her, or anything. She just starts to cry..” I admit looking up at him and he nods his head and wipes the loose tears on my face.

“I understand baby, but she’s 2 and they always go through a phase like this. She still loves you and I do too okay? Don’t forget that.” Chris whispers and kisses my forehead making me smile.

“But what else is wrong, it seems like more than just that.” He says trying to get me to open up. I sigh and look down.

“Im just really stressed.. and I haven’t felt good all day and I’m tired and destiny not listening isn’t helping my case at all.” I admit and sniffle again.

“Y/n,” Chris starts to whisper pulling me on top of him to rest on his chest stroking my back and the ends of my hair.

The water works start again as Destiny starts to cry and I look over at the baby monitor and she’s crying ‘mama..’

Chris sits up with me still laying against him and he looks at the monitor and then smiles back at me.

“Looks like she needs you mama.” Chris whispers into my ear making me sniff away my tears and get off his lap to check on Destiny.

“I’ll be right back” I say with confidence walking out the door as chris chuckles.

I open the door slightly seeing Destiny cuddled up in the corner of her crib wailing and screaming ‘mama’

“Baby, baby im right here.” I whisper walking over and picking her up out of her crib, bouncing her in my arms.

“mama.” Destiny says through tears into my shoulder wrapping her arms around my neck. I take a seat in the chair in her room and look at her

“What’s wrong baby?” I whisper stroking her cheeks to remove the tears off her small pink cheeks.

“why mama crying in bath..?” Destiny asks me with her small baby voice and I laugh softly kissing her cheek.

“Oh don’t worry about mama, i was really tired.” I say exaggerating not wanting her to worry.

“Oh otay.” she whispers back to me and pointing back to her crib.

I smile softly and lay her down. “Get some good sleep for mama okag baby? Me and daddy are right down the hall.” I say making her feel comforted.

“Otay.” She whispers and cuddles her stuffed animal that’s a monkey Chris gave her from when he was a kid.

“Love you, little monkey. Get some good rest. Holler if you need me.” I whisper closing her door as I walk out gently.

I make my way back to me and Chris’s room seeing Chris fully awake on the bed on his side. I crawl back into bed next to him and he puts his arm on my waist and looks down at me with his signature smirk.

“You look pretty tonight.” He whispers to me making me get butterflies

“Christoper. Not tonight I’m too tired I’m sorry.” I say turning him down softly and he sighs. “Fine, shoulda saw that coming.” He says chuckling, leaning down to kiss me and I gently kiss his lips before cuddling into his arms falling asleep.

I love my family.

Taglist (request to be on!!): @b2cute @luverboychris @st7rnioioss @i-tothe-d-tothe-k

[avionvadion]

Hi I just wanted to say that I read the second part of the Lucifer stuff (idk what to call it; a fic? one-shots? simply ideas? idk what to call it, so the general "stuff" it is lol) and I gotta say that this was my favorite part of the whole thing: "Lucifer just took in a deep breath, brought his hands up to squish his cheeks, and let out a screech before running circles around the room. Eleanora squawked, turning to watch the devil king lose his mind. “Why, why, why, whyyyyy!? Why did you tell her you had a surprise for her!?” 

“...So you couldn’t duck out?” 

He skidded to a halt, the floor squeaking against his heels, and he looked to see her grinning goofily at him, pointing at one of the many piles of rubber ducks that were in his room. “Uh-huh. I see what you did there. You think you’re hilarious, don’t’cha?” 

The pun, the mental photo of Lucifer screaming and running like around like a chicken with its head cut off, the callout for using a pun? Priceless. Love it all to death. I also had an idea for you, if you want it? I just had this thought of El, in a moment of both utter self-loathing and sheer bravery, decides to confess to Lucifer using a song. The one in particular I was thinking of? "Door" by I Don't Know How But They Found Me. Idk, I was listening to the song, and I felt it sort of fit them? Or the vibes, at least. Just the mental image of her looking at him and singing the line, "If you just tell me what you think about me, I can collect all my things from the floor" gives me goosebumps and also doe-eyes because I'm imagining Lucifer basically in shock the entire song (it's a relatively short song don't worry abt it) because he's also deep in self-loathing and doesn't understand what she sees in him because he doesn't really see it in himself. I dunno, do with the idea what you will *shrugs*

Either way, I absolutely loved this and can't wait for more, if you decide to write more for Lucifer! :3

“If I’m out of line, just show me the door; I promise you I won’t come here no more. If you just tell me what you think about me, I can collect all my things from the floor. Promise the next time you take my hand… is to show me the door.” I HAD TO LOOK THIS SONG UP AND NOW MY HEART IS IN PIECES. OOF.

IT SUITS THEM SO WELL???? El has already had a couple moments of, “Frick, was this out of line? Am I crossing the line by singing this song??? I’m just a human, he’s the devil, I probably shouldn’t be saying all this stuff but I wanna help him” which can be kinda seen in Luci’s pov whenever she hesitates before singing or resting a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

And LUCIFER HAS MADE A SHOW OF TAKING HER HAND. Hell, EL has made a show of it.

I dunno why, but the hand holding is becoming a very prominent thing between them, haha. Like when he sings to her and brings her close to dance, or when she grabs his hand to stop him from anxiously nibbling his fingers to bits and when she was singing to him to calm him down. It’s just turning into a thing.

I feel like the song might actually happen after they’re “unofficially” together??? Because El doesn’t really know what he’s thinking or how he views her. Basically a, “What are we?” Kind of moment where it’s obvious to everyone except themselves that they’re dating/have feelings for each other.

Also!! I have posted the two chapters to Ao3 so it’s technically a fic now, lol.

I’m working on the next chapter right now. We be getting El’s pov now!!! (But it’s still in third person because it started with third person and I must commit to the bit, even though it feels super weird)

Oh gods. I have this image in my head of El, like, kissing the back of Lucifer’s hand (or even just his fingers in this super gentle and sweet way) before whispering the song and trying not to cry because WHAT IF REJECTION!???? And Lucifer is just stunned silent, and when he doesn’t react or say anything she goes to pull away but he snatches her hand back and starts his own song. Whatever that is.

I have a bit of an idea for it.

“I think I love you~? A feeling I thought I couldn’t have again, lost amongst the despair. I think I want you~ in ways I doubt that you know. You helped repair~ a bond that was once nearly broken, and… I don’t think I can let you go. But if this feeling is love, I… just don’t know.”

Buuut that’s all I got so far and it might just change.

Anyways. Yee. :3 El and Luci are chaotic beans.

[haus-seeblick]

What Happens at the Library...

Another ~combo fic~ for Suptober! Days 19, 20, 22: “Eighty-Sixed,” “Library Hours,” and “Birthday.”

Rating: Mature; Ship: Castiel/Dean Winchester; WC: 3,895

Summary: Dean and Sam's laptops are destroyed while they’re on a case. They head to a library to continue their research, much to Dean's chagrin - it's his birthday, after all. Not how he wants to be celebrating. But at least Cas joins them, and what happens in the stacks... doesn't stay in the stacks, it turns out.

Tags: Fluff, Kissing, First Kiss, Not using the library for its intended purpose, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, And they're finally acting on it, Sam Winchester Loves Research, Brotherly Squabbling, Dean and Cas scandalize a librarian, Dean and Cas use their words, It's Dean's birthday, Canon Divergence - Unspecified Timeline, One Shot, Unresolved case in the background

Read on AO3 or below!

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

“Can’t we just go buy new laptops?” Dean throws himself onto Baby’s front seat and huffs. He knows he’s pouting like a kid, but really can’t bring himself to care. “Researching at the library takes forever.”

Sam rolls his eyes and slides much more gracefully into the passenger seat. “It’s for one case, Dean. You’ll survive. Plus, Cas is gonna meet us there and you know how fast he can read.”

If Dean’s mood brightens fractionally at the mention of Cas, Sam doesn’t need to know.

“Still not how I wanna spend my birthday,” he grumbles. He starts the car with as much irritable flare as he can muster and signals to merge onto the road,  sighing dramatically when there’s not an immediate gap in traffic. The Impala’s tires squeal when he hits the gas.

“Jeez, take it easy,” Sam says. “That excited to see Cas, huh?”

Dean nearly misses the next turn and yanks the wheel hastily. “That’s got nothing— shut up. I’m just mad about our laptops.” He waves apologetically at the driver of the car he cut off.

Sam grimaces and pulls the remains of a laptop out of the backpack at his feet. It’s mangled, wires dangling and keys missing, the screen cracked and fried. He lets out a strangled whine and gazes at the broken machine as if it’s a deceased family member. “Fucking witches.”

“They knew just how to hurt you,” Dean says, and receives a punch to the shoulder. “Ow. Bitch.”

Sam flips him off for good measure. “They got you, too, jerk. You have to set foot in a library again. Will you burst into flames?”

“You’re so funny.” Dean digs his cell phone out of his pocket and waves it jauntily at Sam, glancing over at him. “Why can’t we just research on our phones? They’re basically computers.”

Sam looks at him as if he’s lost his mind. “The screens are way too small for optimal reading, Dean.” He snatches the phone out of Dean’s hand and clicks it on, as if out of habit. Dean can’t grab it back in time, not without swerving the Impala onto the shoulder.

“Oh,” Sam says, voice so carefully restrained it sounds like a taut rubber band. “Oh. Wow. Nice lock screen.”

To hell with the shoulder — Dean lunges across the seat and pries the phone from Sam’s grubby hands. “It’s a joke. A— a dare. He dared me.” He violently shoves the phone back into his pocket and straightens out the car.  

A squeak of pure mirth escapes Sam’s pressed lips. “Cas— uh, Cas dared you to set a picture of him in a cowboy hat as your lock screen?”

“Yes.” Dean nods, eyes firmly on the road. He forces his hands to stay still on the wheel. “He thought it’d be funny. You know how he is.”

“I do,” Sam says. “That’s why I’m confused.” He ducks, laughing, as Dean blindly slaps at his face to shut him up. “Okay, okay, I surrender! Just ‘cause it’s your birthday.”

Dean withdraws his hand and Sam doesn’t retaliate, but does spend the rest of the drive chuckling randomly to himself. Dean can’t crank the music high enough.

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

The library in the next town over is an old multi-storied brick building with ivy creeping up the walls and filmy-paned windows. Dean sighs as he pulls them into the parking lot. He doesn’t love research on a good day, but reverting to their old library routine? Torture.

Sam, conversely, practically leaps out of the car and grabs various notepads from his backpack before slamming the door. “Let’s get started! They close at eight so we have almost the whole day.”

“Wonderful,” Dean mutters and trails after his brother. Sam looks back at him with a slightly softer expression.

“Hey, we’ll get something good for dinner later, okay? Lots of pie. I’ll even have some with you.”

Dean sighs and pushes open the heavy front door. “Yeah, yeah. I know a bribe when I see one.” But pie is something to look forward to. Maybe Cas will join them.

They settle in at a free table near the back of the stacks on the third floor, within quick reach of the “Folklore” and “Mythology” sections, as well as “Ancient History” — Sam’s not totally sure what they’ll need, but “Isn’t it great we have access to all of this?”

Dean grumbles and starts flipping through the first book Sam hands him. He’d almost forgotten how to use an index. Damn, Google, making me soft.

About two hours in — or three, who knows — they’ve still got nothing that matches the traits of the creature that the laptop-destroying coven of witches is protecting. Sam leans back in his seat and groans, rubbing his eyes, and Dean drops his forehead onto the page of the book he’s reading. The paper is cool under his skin at first, but then just gets warm and clammy. He contemplates throwing the heavy tome through a window and letting in the cold January breeze. The air’s so stagnant it’s like breathing pudding.

As if his thoughts were broadcasted on a loudspeaker — which, well, in this case it’s not too far off the mark — the trademark thwup thwup of wings whips the air and sends pages flying in all directions. Dean sits up and takes a deep breath, his hair ruffling as he looks up at his best friend suddenly standing over him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, voice pitched low as if he’s intimately aware of library etiquette. “Happy birthday. I am here to read.” His trenchcoat is smooth as ever, no sign that he’s just been hurtling through the ether, though his hair is sticking in all directions and the blue tie is, of course, backwards. It’s the perfect combination of put-together and undone, Dean thinks, and Cas wears it well. His warmth- and research-addled brain briefly wonders what it’d be like to mess up the trenchcoat a little. Maybe remove it.

Belatedly, he realizes he’s spent several seconds too long silently staring up at Cas with a dazed expression on his face. Cas hasn’t looked away, though; he’s just standing there looking right back at Dean’s, mouth completely neutral but a smile playing around the edges of his eyes. His very blue — even in the yellowish light of the library — eyes.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam pipes up from the other end of the table, waving cheerfully but a little pointedly. “Good to see you.”

Dean quickly glances away and Cas blinks and looks over at Sam as if just noting his presence. “Ah. Hello, Sam.” He regards the table. It’s strewn with papers and books lying open over each other’s spines. “I see you’ve been busy already. Any luck in your search?”

While Sam launches into an explanation of what they’ve found (nothing — Dean’s not sure how his brother can manage to talk that much about nothing), Dean takes the opportunity to scrub a hand over his face and blow out a hot breath. Cas’ presence has his heart pumping just a little harder; though he could totally attribute that to the abruptness of his arrival. That’s probably it, actually. He nods to himself.

“Glad you agree, Dean,” Sam says, and Dean jerks his head up. Sam and Cas are both looking at him with expectant faces.

“Um.” Dean nods some more. “Yeah. Definitely agree.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “You and Cas will go comb the stacks for more material, and I’ll keep reading. When I get tired, Cas can take over with his super speed.”

Cas tips his chin in agreement, formal as ever. He glances around the room, taking in the shelves. “Based on what I see laid out here, Dean, you are lacking in eighteenth-century folklore. Let’s start there.” Without waiting for a reply, he sweeps away, the trenchcoat billowing behind him as he strides purposefully toward a back corner. A dark corner. Dean sends Sam a glare that says I know what you’re doing, and Sam just returns a self-satisfied smile before pointedly pulling a notepad toward himself and burying his nose back into the book he was poring over before Cas arrived.

Dean sighs and shakes out his arms, bouncing up to his toes a few times before following Cas into the stacks. The cavernous room narrows down to the single dim aisle that Cas just disappeared into. There are a few dusty bulbs high on the cavernous ceiling, but this part of the library obviously doesn’t see a lot of traffic. Dean’s eyes adjust to the low light as he passes behind the shelves. Cas is at the far end of the aisle; it’s a dead end and he’s standing right up against the wall, a large tome already open and supported over both forearms. With his head tipped down, all Dean can see is his messy shadowy hair and the tip of his sharp nose.

He’s an angel, Dean thinks, not for the first time and not for the last. He’s an honest-to-God (hah) angel, reading a library book. His lips curl into one of those small smiles that sappy people might call “fond” but that he just attributes to amusement about the weirdness of Cas’ existence.

Said weird angel looks up and tilts his head. “Is something wrong?” he whispers.

“Nope.” Dean wanders down the aisle toward him, brushing his fingertips over the spines of old books as he goes. He sucks in a small breath and steels himself. “Just— uh, just glad you’re here is all. Y’know, ‘cause you read so fast.”

Cas regards him, inscrutable, then nods as if satisfied. “I see.” He straightens his head as Dean reaches him, and they stand there for a moment, standing closer together than Dean would dare in the daylight. The buttons of Dean’s flannel are just brushing the edges of Cas’ book, tracing the outline of his knuckles. Cas fidgets his fingers a bit, shifting them across the page.

“I’m glad to be here, too. To help, and also to see you. On your birthday.” His voice is barely a breath, somehow still deep even as a whisper. Dean feels the air puff against his face with the words. He flicks his gaze down to Cas’ lips, then up again to his eyes. Still blue, even in the gloom.

Somehow, in this silent, secluded corner, shielded by walls of paper and ink, some of Dean’s bravado slips away. Some of his bullshit, too. It’s not really a conscious decision; it’s like he’s in a trance, his brain just far enough removed from the real world to function as it truly wants, and he lifts his hand, ever so slowly, and cups Cas’ elbow with just enough pressure to feel the body heat through the layers of coat and suit jacket and dress shirt.

He leans in. Cas blinks. Just once. But Dean figures the angel’s seen enough TV at this point, heard enough stories, hell, watched enough porn, and Dean’s being as clear as he can allow himself to be. It works. Cas’ breath hitches, ever so slightly, and he leans forward too, across the scant inches between them. Their noses brush. Dean closes his eyes. It might be dim, but for this he needs darkness. Just for this first time. He tips his head forward a fraction more, and finally, finally, he’s there.

Cas’ lips are dry and warm. They’re alive. They’re real, and Dean’s kissing them. It’s the most chaste kiss he’s ever had, no tongue and barely any pressure, but by god if his heart isn’t pounding right out of his ears.

Cas is so close. Dean has watched him from afar, catalogued and memorized every movement and expression and quirk; and he’s been close before, too, but never like this. This is tender and purposeful and god, so hot, even in its simplicity. Cas keeps tilting forward, pressing their mouths together more firmly. His hands are still wrapped around the top of his book and knuckles dig into Dean’s stomach. It twinges and Dean breathes out a laugh. He pulls back just a centimeter.

“Ditch the book,” he whispers. Talking feels nearly sacrilegious. Cas nods, tiny jerks of his chin, pupils huge from the darkness and excitement. That’s because of me, Dean thinks with a thrill.

He’s not sure when he first fell in love with Cas. Or whatever this is. He’s always thought the dude was hot — even before he fully recognized that that’s something he notices about dudes — but somewhere in between battles and betrayals and conversations over tumblers of whiskey, that spark of attraction turned into a full-on affliction. At least that’s what it felt like every time Cas left, and during every period without him.

Right now, though? It feels like a freaking miracle.

Cas closes the book, the binding scraping against Dean’s shirt, and reaches over to lay it on the shelf. His newly-free hands hover between them for a moment. He meets Dean’s eyes. Then he slowly places his palms on either side of Dean’s waist, two warm bookends holding Dean together at his core.

“I enjoy kissing you,” Cas whispers, so quietly that if Dean didn’t see his lips forming the words, he wouldn’t have registered them. Dean slides his hand from Cas’ elbow up to his neck, sucking in a breath when his fingers meet the hot skin there. He traces the curl of hair behind Cas’ ear.

“Me, too.”

Cas’ eyes flare, as if hearing Dean say it — even more than the actual kissing — finally confirmed something for him. He grips Dean’s waist, long fingers digging in, and hauls him back across the scant centimeters between them to crash their lips together again.

It’s not chaste this time. Cas kisses like it’s his last night on earth, desperately and thoroughly. He parts his lips right away, catching Dean’s lower lip between his teeth and grazing along it before pressing forward and slipping his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean can hardly stifle the groan that bubbles up in his throat. Cas has a long tongue. Dean gives back as good as he gets, curling his fingers around the back of Cas’ neck and wrapping his other arm around his waist. They’re pressed together from knee to chest, the space between them a veritable furnace. Dean swears he can feel Cas’ heart thumping alongside his own, even through layers of clothing.

They kiss and kiss, so long that Dean simultaneously feels like he’s in a daze, yet is acutely aware of every single millisecond. It’s slick and hot and goosebump-inducing, and Cas is making tiny noises with every breath that he manages to take between melting Dean with his tongue and his lips. The stubble around Cas’ mouth is making Dean’s skin burn a little bit, but somehow that makes everything even better, an extra little bit of proof that this is actually happening, not just another dream in a long string of dreams.

They’re in a rhythm, lips pressing and releasing in a dance that’s getting Dean more than a little worked up, and when he crowds Cas even tighter against the wall, he feels unmistakable proof against his thigh that Cas is just as affected as he is.

“Oh god,” he chokes out on an exhale, and Cas seems to realize what’s going on because he snakes his arms fully around Dean’s waist and tugs him in, practically molding their hips together. Dean feels goosebumps rise on Cas’ neck.

They grind together and Dean swears this is the hottest thing he has ever, in all his life, experienced. Cas is so strong, and solid, and into it, and the fact that Dean has waited this fucking long to be right here makes his entire body fizz with elation. His toes curl in his boots. He slips his hand off Cas’ neck to brace his palm against the wall, leaning his whole weight into Cas and rolling his hips—

“Hey! You can’t do that here.”

The whole world screeches to a halt. Dean and Cas freeze mid-kiss, breath halted and eyes wide.

“Sirs, you need to leave. This is a public library.”

Dean slides his hand off the wall and slowly peeks over his shoulder. An elderly librarian in a pink cardigan is standing at the end of the aisle, hands on her hips and tapping her foot in a judgemental staccato. Dean swallows and tries for his best apologetic smile, fully aware that it’s negated by his undoubtedly fucked-out appearance. Sure enough, the librarian just glares harder. Nodding hastily, Dean turns back to Cas — who looks mortified — and subtly adjusts the front of his pants.

“Close your trenchcoat and walk in front of me,” he mumbles as low as he can into Cas’ ear and Cas complies, pulling his coat closed in front of him and sliding past Dean to lead the way down the aisle. The librarian tuts and shakes her head as they pass her.

“You should be ashamed.” She actually shakes her finger. “There are children here.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Dean mutters and hurriedly follows Cas into the brightness of the main room. He’s intensely aware that his lips are red and puffy and his flannel is more than a bit askew.

They approach the table where Sam’s reading, and the librarian trailing them chooses that moment to announce, loudly, “I don’t want to see either of you in here again.”

Sam startles and looks up from his book, and the journey his face takes upon seeing them is epic. Surprise morphs into confusion, then concern, but the moment he fully takes in their appearance it’s a battle between mirth and disapproval, his lips twitching vigorously. He quickly leans his elbow on the table and shields his face with his palm, eyes fixed on his book, a clear signal: do not talk to me. Dean has half a mind to bring him down with them, because getting kicked out of a library would bother Sam so much, but — he sighs — they do need the research. Luckily, Cas seems to have the same thought and he passes Sam without another glance.

The librarian escorts them all the way to the heavy front doors and observes them leaving. Dean can feel her reproachful gaze on the back of his neck all the way down the stone steps.

Once they’re in the parking lot, Dean stops and blows out a huge breath before laughter bubbles up and he bends over, bracing his hands on his knees.

“Holy shit,” he wheezes, tilting his head up to peer at Cas. “We just got eighty-sixed by a grandma.”

Cas smooths down the front of his coat. His face is totally blank, the only evidence of their activities the faint pinkness still surrounding his mouth. He’s regarding some trees in the distance, not meeting Dean’s eyes.

“Hey,” Dean says, face falling as he straightens up. “You good?”

The breeze ruffles Cas’ hair. It’s the only part of his body that’s moving.

Oh.

A sinking, sludgy pressure fills Dean’s chest. He scuffs his boot on the ground. “You— uh, you havin’ second thoughts?” His cheeks burn and he tenses up, ready to take off to the car at the first hint of humiliating rejection. He can’t take that in front of Cas. No way. Cas can’t know how deep—

“No,” Cas says, quiet but firm. “I told you I enjoyed kissing you.”

Some of the tightness around Dean’s lungs eases. No immediate need to run. Still, though, something’s up — this closed-off, tentative Cas is nothing like the one who’d just given him the best makeout session of his life.

“So, uh— what’s up?” It’s lame, but it’s all he can come up with, faced with Cas’ blank stoicism.

Cas turns to him. There’s that tilted head, that furrowed brow. “Is that all you wanted?”

Taken aback, Dean stares at him. “What?”

“The kissing,” Cas explains. “Is that all you want? From— With me?”

“Oh,” Dean says softly. Here it is. For one wild second, his brain races through all the possible outcomes of lying, of saying that of course it’s all he wanted, just a little liplocking between buddies, blowing off some steam, that was fun, right? and immediately feels sick to his stomach. He can’t go back. Now that he knows what it’s like to kiss Cas, to be held tight against his chest, he can’t throw away the chance to feel that again. Even if Cas just wants kissing and nothing else, it’ll be enough. Yeah, Dean tells himself. That would be enough.

“I like you,” he says.

What the fuck? Is he in middle school? His face is so hot it must be glowing.

Cas tilts his head even further. “...Yes. I like you, too, Dean. A great deal.”

This is torture. Dean clears his throat and gazes skyward. “No, I mean, I want more with you, Cas. More of— of everything. The kissing, and the, uh, the touching, and the hanging out. I just— I just want you around, man.”

He has never sounded so dumb, but when he drops his eyes back to Cas’ face, he’s startled to see an actual, real smile. Not one of those “barely there” or “just around the eyes” smiles, no; it’s a genuine grin, teeth and all. Cas’ eyes are crinkled almost shut with the force of it.

“I want that, too, Dean.”  

Dean breathes out an involuntary laugh, a little shaky with relief and elation. “Awesome.”

Cas sidles closer, catching Dean’s hand with his own. He leans in, and before Dean can react, places a single, soft kiss to his lips. “You make me very happy,” Cas murmurs, and Dean is overflowing, this is too much and everything he’s ever wanted.

“I’m a lucky bastard,” he whispers back.

Cas chuckles. “You haven’t gotten lucky yet.” He steps back and sort-of winks, grinning again at Dean’s incredulous expression. “Yes, Dean. I know what getting lucky means. Would you like to?”

“Oh, hell yes,” Dean declares, grabbing Cas’ arm and dragging him toward the car. “Sam’s gonna be outta commission ‘til tonight, we got time.”

“Excellent,” Cas says. They hurry purposefully toward the car, and Deans’ just fumbling for his keys when Cas’ phone chimes. Cas pulls it out of his pocket. “It’s a text from Sam.” He swipes the screen. “Sam says… that I should ask to see your lock screen. What is that?”

Dean freezes with the key halfway in the lock. Fucking Sam. Though, on second thought, this might be his little brother’s weird attempt at wingmanship. Dean knows that Sam’s picked up on his feelings about Cas, as subtle as he’s tried to be. It’s— ugh, Dean thinks. Kinda nice that he’s supportive. He opens the door. “Uh, it’s nothing. I’ll show you later.”

“Okay, Dean,” Cas says dubiously and stows his phone again. He slides into the passenger seat, scooting all the way over on the bench so their legs are pressed together. Dean grins and starts the car.

He got out of doing research, actually had fun in a library, doesn’t have to worry about witches for a couple hours, and now he’s gonna get lucky with Cas. Maybe they’ll even find a good burger joint for dinner, once Sam is done.

This is gonna be a great birthday.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

BTS DRABBLE-OT7

Contrary to peoples' opinions-surrounding the fact that you're dating seven men that belong to the mafia-you're not helpless. You can defend yourself. But a close brush with some dangerous people has your boyfriends questioning that fact-wondering if you can protect yourself enough-and true to their natures, they're not going to stand idly by if you're in any sort of danger whatsoever.

Tags: BTS, Bangtan Boys, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, Beyond the Scene, BTS Drabble, OT7, BTS x you, BTS x reader, OT7 x reader, OT7 x you, Poly!BTS, Mafia Au, Angst, Fluff, Kim Seokjin, Min yoongi, Jung hoseok, Kim namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim taehyung, Jeon Jungkook

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Title: Protect You

The garden that surrounds the mansion is usually quiet this time of morning-the sound of birds just starting to sing their songs, the trickle of the fountain that runs down into a meandering stream through the trees-but this morning, the clear morning air is broken by the harsh, insistent sound of a squeaky toy.

"Tannie, Tannie!" You hold aloft the rubber duck and squeak it once more enthusiastically, the small dog dancing around your feet-eyes bright, ears perked, tongue lolling-as he waits for you to toss the toy once more. "You want it? Go get it!"

You throw the duck across the open space of the courtyard and the dog streaks off in a flash of black and tan fur, tiny legs churning, as he barks happily, chasing after the bouncing rubber toy.

You sit back down on the bench, slightly laughing to yourself at the dog's almost maniacal enthusiasm, and reach out a hand to caress Holly's head where he sits beside you, paws folded neatly, on the stone seat beneath the shade of the fruit trees.

"To have that kind of energy, eh, Holly?" You ask gently, glancing over at the older poodle, who gives you a slight wag of his tale, pink tongue hanging past his lips, though he has been doing nothing but sitting in the shade. You stroke his head affectionately, rubbing his soft, silky ears between your fingers. "Yeah, I know. I like the shade better too."

Tannie appears back at your feet again, panting hard, dark eyes glittering, as he proudly drops the duck he has retrieved at the toes of your sneakers.

"Good boy, Tan!" You exclaim, leaning over to pet the other dog, as he dances in place and his tail wags furiously at your praise. "You brought me your toy! You're so good. You did so good."

You stand from the bench, reaching down to round up the toys Yeontan has been playing with, and Holly rises-stretching languidly-beside you, as you glance between both eagerly waiting dogs and ask, "You guys want some water? Wanna go inside and take a break for awhile? Let's go get some water."

Yeontan, circling your feet, yips happily and bounds toward the back door, leading the way back toward the house, as you glance back to make sure Holly is following-albeit a slower pace-behind the two of you.

And that's when the pair of men step out from behind the trees that line the tall wall that surrounds the property.

The shorter one grins at you, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his slacks, and flicks the toothpick he holds between his teeth around with a light twitch of his tongue. "Hello there, Mrs. Kim."

You watch the pair warily, as they continue to advance toward you on slow, stalking footsteps. "Gentlemen. Can I ask what you're doing in my garden?"

The man who had spoke before-the one with the long greasy hair tied at the nape of his neck-spits his toothpick onto the ground and arches a brow in your direction, hands still hidden in his pockets, though his shoulders raise slightly as he gives you a casual shrug. "Just out for a walk. Thought we'd stop in for a visit."

Holly growls at your feet, hackles raised, as the two men step closer still, and you reach down to pick him up, sheltering him in your arms, as you ask calmly, "Really? Because I don't recall that we've ever met."

"Oh, we haven't." The man replies, flicking a finger toward his taller counterpart, who has yet to speak. At his motion, his partner circles to your other side, so that you're now backed into a corner of the garden-the men on either side-and no easy escape in sight. "But we've met your husband many times." He flashes you a dangerous grin that has your insides squirming.

They're referring to Namjoon, you're sure of that. That's always been the agreement between the eight of you-you belong to all of them-but Namjoon is the public face of the relationship.

"He's never mentioned you." You state simply, trying to keep any micro expressions off your face that might hint at the fact that you're starting to get nervous. Your eyes flick toward the back door of the house, about a hundred yards away and blocked by the trees.

"Hmmm." The man leans beside you on one of the tree trunks, and you can almost taste his sweat and his rumpled suit jacket smells of damp and something resembling smoke and cat piss. "Really? Odd." He cocks his head, and his dark eyes hold a dangerous glint, as he reaches up to stroke a finger down the side of your face, Holly baring his teeth in your arms at his close proximity. "Speaking of, where is our good friend Mr. Kim? Away at work?"

There's no use trying to lie. You know-by the way he's watching you, and the stupid leer that crosses the other man's face-that they already know quite well that Namjoon isn't here.

"Yes." You nod, just barely, and jerk your skin away from the man's still trailing finger. "He had business in the city today."

"Oh, well that's too bad." The man clucks his tongue against his teeth in a display of fake disappointment, and his eyes darken as his gaze sweeps down your body. "It's a shame we missed him." He grins wickedly. "I guess you'll just have to tell him we stopped by and relay our message for us."

Before you can react, the shorter man has grabbed your wrists in clammy fingers, Holly frantically barking and snapping in your arms as he closes in on the two of you.

"Get the damn dog out of here." The man barks, struggling to maintain his grip on you as he dodges Holly's flashing teeth.

The taller man rips Holly from your arms and tosses him across the garden away from the three of you, and though he yelps, you're grateful they've released him and not tried to harm him.

Because the pit in your stomach is telling you you won't be so lucky.

The shorter man, his grip on your wrists still tight and painful, has become distracted in that moment, watching his partner toss Holly, and you take the opportunity to slam your shoe down hard on his foot.

He yelps, releasing you for the briefest second, and that's all the time you need to dart past him and toward the door of the house.

You hear the man swear behind you and yell something to the taller man about catching you before you make it inside, but all you can focus on is not tripping and tangling yourself in the foliage as you sprint toward the house.

Your salvation is within maybe ten yards, when the taller man catches up with you.

He catches your wrist and before you can make a sound, slams you with the weight of his body back against the stucco wall of the house, right beside the back door and your only bid for freedom.

You're all breathing hard when the shorter man reaches the two of you, fire blazing behind the dark rings of his irises.

"Stupid bitch." He growls out between loose lips, before hitting you hard across the face with the palm of his hand.

The slap sends your head careening back against the stone wall behind you and leaves your cheek stinging, and as you orient yourself once more-still breathing hard-you can taste the copper sheen of blood on your tongue from your newly split lip.

The man reaches for the buckle of his belt, still glaring at you, and spits on the ground at your feet, before he addresses the taller man who still holds you pinned against the wall. "Hold her still. I think it's time we taught Boss Kim and his little bitch here a long overdue lesson."

The taller man nods, and the way his fingers tighten around your wrists has you wincing slightly.

"Now." The other man steps up to you, and the stench of his warm, putrid breath washing across your face has you feeling as if you're about to vomit. His fingers close on either side of your chin and wrench your gaze up to his own. He smirks wickedly. "I hope you know, I'm going to enjoy this."

You spit in his face violently, saliva and blood mixing into a pink spittle that splashes across his face, which instantly darkens, as he releases your chin and raises his hand into the air to once again deliver a stinging blow.

And then, the sound of a gun cocking has everyone freezing in their tracks.

"What the-" The man glances at his counterpart, who has gone still and is staring with wide eyes beyond his shoulder line, and then directs his gaze in the same direction behind the three of you.

The scene he's met with instantly has his previously venomous gaze filling with terror.

Yoongi's finger is steady on the trigger as he holds the gun on the two men, features dark and deceptively treacherously calm as Jin flanks one of his sides, Hobi on the other-and their faces are just as unreadable and blank-though you know there is a dark, dangerous current of emotions brewing just beneath that calm surface.

Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin complete the half circle surrounding your attackers, and glancing at the absolute and utter fear on the two men's faces, you can't blame them.

Looking down the ready, waiting barrels of six guns would make anybody-no matter how brave-wet themselves where they stood.

"I told you the truth." You speak into the suddenly electric silence that has fallen over the group, and your assailant glances back at you, as if he had forgotten you were there, mouth agape, eyes wide. You offer him an innocent smile. "Namjoon is at work. But I didn't say the other six were."

The sound of another gun cocking into position has the two men whirling back to face the circle of men surrounding you.

Taehyung's finger finds the trigger of his pistol, and-normally warm eyes dark-his lips quirk upward into just the hint of a humorless smirk as he stares down the two men beside you, and when he speaks, his voice is cold and absolutely murderous as he parrots back the words the intruder had used just moments before.

"I hope you know, I'm going to enjoy this."

**********

"What happened."

It isn't a question as Namjoon strides into the room, loosening his tie as he enters, usually unruffled attitude an odd mixture of humming danger and worry.

Yoongi glances up from where he sits in the corner, polishing his gun, and grunts out darkly, "Couple of goonies thought they'd get the upper hand and take out the boss's wife."

You can tell, by the way his normally controlled movements are jerky on the barrel of the weapon, that he is still worked up.

Namjoon crosses the room to where you sit on the sofa, coming to stand before you and the boys that surround you, though Jimin doesn't look up at him, focusing on cleaning the wound that cuts across your bottom lip.

"Ouch!" You hiss out as he hits a particularly tender spot with the antiseptic, jerking back from him, as he meets your gaze and offers you a slightly apologetic look as Hobi, who sits beside you, arm around your shoulders, gives you a comforting pat on the hand.

Namjoon crouches down and ignoring Jimin, pushes past the younger man, eyes softening slightly as he runs his thumb carefully over your split lip and up the purple bruising that is just starting to show on your cheekbone. "Whoever did this, I'll make them pay. I swear it."

You lean your cheek into the palm of his hand, his skin warmed by the afternoon sun, and offer him the hint of a smile, though it hurts your lip to do so. "I know you will."

"What do we do if this happens again, Namjoon?" Jin asks from where he is leaning against the desk, watching the interaction between the two of you with careful gaze. His hands are buried deep in his pockets, and he shifts from one foot to the other, brow furrowed as he regards the younger man. "If next time-"

"There's not going to be a next time." Namjoon cuts him off abruptly, standing up once more, as he sends the other man a hard look. "This is never going to happen again."

"But what if it does." Jungkook speaks up, and his normally large doe eyes are flashing with anger, irises no longer warm, but dark, as he slams his palms down in frustration on the desk his elder leans upon. "What if it does happen again, hyung? What then? We can't keep putting her in danger like this."

"I'm really fine-" You start to protest, speaking around Jimin's fingers, who has moved back into position to keep cleaning the long cut on your lips. His fingertips press into the plush skin of your mouth, effectively cutting off your words with a gentle admonishment.

He tilts his head and stares at you, full lips curving into a gentle smile, eyes crinkling, making you feel slightly better in the way only Jimin can, and when he speaks, his voice is gentle, just like his touch.

"No one is doubting you can take care of yourself, baby girl." His fingers caress the line of your jaw and his gaze is thoughtful. "We just don't want to put you in situations where you have to."

"Hyung." Taehyung steps up beside Namjoon, who is now staring out the large window behind the desk and down onto the gardens below, and when his hand rests on the leader's arm, you note that his fingers are still speckled with blood from the stand off earlier.

When he speaks again, the deep timbre of his voice shakes slightly, as if he's still so pissed off that he can hardly control himself. "Those sons of bitches almost touched her. If we hadn't been here-"

You wince at his choice of words, because he's right. Without them, you would have been left to an incredibly dark fate at the hands of the two intruders.

"I'm with Jungkook." Yoongi finally speaks up once more, and he stands from the corner, laying his now sparkling gun aside, as he approaches Namjoon and Taehyung, still silhouetted against the window. He heaves a sigh and glances in your direction, before addressing Namjoon seriously. "She needs to be able to protect herself. God forbid, there's another time, but if there is, we can't just leave her defenseless."

You can tell that Namjoon does not take the older man's opinion lightly, and you can visibly see him weighing his hyung's words before his shoulders slump in defeat, and he lets out a tired sigh. "All right."

He strides across the room again and crouches down in front of where you sit once more, long legs folded beneath his body, as his eyes meet yours in a firm gaze. He reaches out to take your chin in his hand, in a much gentler, much more loving grip than the man had used earlier, and his lips purse into a serious, stern line, before he intones quietly, eyes soft, "It's time to teach you a few things, darling."

******

The first thing you can think when Jin leads you into the armory and you see all the weapons lining the walls is holy shit.

The second thing is how have you never noticed how many different guns the men you love have at their disposal?

"So, you've got your assaults, your machines," Jin gestures to each rack of guns as you pass by on your tour, Jungkook trailing along behind the two of you, sometimes running loving fingers up certain weapons as you walk by. "Pistols, handguns, snipers, rocket launchers-"

"Have you guys used all of these guns?" You ask, mouth agape, as you glance around the huge room full of deadly weapons.

"No way." Jungkook shakes his head, bounding up to stand beside you, as he slings an arm around your shoulders and gives you a deceivingly innocent bunny smile, as if he's not talking about guns that kill people. "Some of these are specialized. We have to hire professionals for those."

"Aren't you professionals?" You question curiously, grinning slightly as Jungkook laughs at your query.

"Okay. Eventually, you can pick what feels most comfortable for you, princess." Jin reappears from another smaller room, cocking and loading a small handgun into his palm, as he approaches you and Jungkook. "However, we're going to start small for now."

He offers the gun to you, and you hesitate only a moment, before reaching out and taking the gun from him. The metal feels cold against your palm, as you fingering the gun, trying to get used to the weight.

A low whistle sounds from the entrance of the room, and you glance up as Taehyung enters, eyes scanning the racks of guns almost fondly, as he states lightly, "Look at all the pretties."

Jin sighs from beside you, rolling his eyes, though you catch the hint of a smile, before his expression becomes neutral again. "Can you please stop talking about assault rifles the same way you talk about shoes, Kim Taehyung?"

Taehyung smirks and winks at you, eyebrow cocked cheekily, as he reaches your side and throws his arms around you and Jungkook's shoulders. "C'mon hyung, lighten up. You know our girl's gonna be a natural." He chucks you playfully under the chin. "Right, sweetheart?"

You shrug, still trying to get used the feeling of the gun in the palm of your hand. "I dunno. I hope so?"

Jin takes your hand in his and leans over to press a kiss to the side of your forehead. "I'd believe him if I were you. He's uncannily good at predicting what other people are good at."

Taehyung grins at the praise. "Yeah! Like I can tell you that I predict that Jungkookie is gonna be shit at Fortnite when we play later tonight."

"Hey." Jungkook leans around you to try and catch Taehyung with his fist as the older boy laughs.

"All right, all right." Jin berates them lightly, though you can tell he's trying not to grin at the younger boys antics. He waves toward you and the gun you still hold in your hand. "Let's get (Y/N) to the shooting range then."

Taehyung slings his arm once more around your shoulders as you all follow Jin toward the range. "Trust me, sweetheart." He offers you the hint of a soft smile and squeezes your fingers between his own. "You're gonna get so good, next time those bastards try anything, they won't know what hit them before you blow their brains out."

[clemappreciationblog]

Broken pipes and The Mechanic. || Clemadeus || Part 2

....

After a couple of hours, The handyman left. The bathroom was clean and shiny, that hick was nice enough to clean in there after he was done with it. Amadeus stood in the bathroom's doorway as the smaller ghost worked on the pipes, getting some of the nasty water on his clothes. Welp, he was gone now. The pianist sighed as he walked back to his piano, he didn't know what to think about the situation he was in. Why was he like this? The blondie smelled awful but yet, something about him was so... nice to Amadeus.

The pianist thought about this very hardly but was suddenly interrupted by a loud squeak. He looked down to the floor and saw that a small yellow rubber duck has been left here. Strange, Amadeus thought. Why would he have this? Oh, I might be the mechanic's. When he getting stuff out of his toolbox, some things did fall out of it. So, a rubber ducky belonging to the mechanic is a possibility, it's most likely his. The duck was dirty, the paint was so washed off that one of its eyes were missing. Amadeus squeaked the toy in his hand, the noises were high pitched, somewhat hurting Wolfgeist's ears. The duck was still cute though, he thought. So cute. He had to give it back to him, it wouldn't be nice not to. He did fix the pipes after all~

So there he was, the pianist getting in the elevator and going down to the lobby, meeting the ever-so-nervous bellhop. He was anxious when he saw Wolfgeist, he forced a smile upon his face and the sweat came down his face as he spoke to the pianist.

"Hello, sir Wolfgeist."

"Hi, Steward. Say Steward, remember when I requested that the mechanic come up and fix the pipes in the bathroom?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I got a item that he left behind and I need to find him. What's his floor, and may I ask, what's his name?

The pianist held up the rubber duck to the bellhop, making sure he saw it as bright as day.

"Sir, his floor his B2 and his name is Clem."

"..."

"What is it, sir?"

''... So you're saying that his name is Clem ?''

''Yes, Sir.''

'' But, like... JUST Clem ? And that's it ?''

'' And that's it, Sir.''

''...Isn't that...kind of weird or... something...?''

''Sir, My name's literally Steward, and you're wondering why the handyman just goes by 'Clem' ?''

"Fair enough. Thank you for your time, Steward. "

"No problem, sir."

The bellhop give a little wave to the pianist as he left and went to the elevator, still holding the little gold rubber ducky in his hand. The elevator went deeper into the hotel, going pass the underground parking lot. Wolfgeist could smell the most awful and worse things he could ever smell in his afterlife, but he had to go through it to get to Clem. He wandered through the boilerworks looking for the handyman, the basement was filled with trash and cleaning supplies, hell, even some ducks were around the place. At least he knew that the squeaky toy belonged to Clem, but still, this trash, this whole place even, gotta be a fire hazard. He came back to the huge room, water falling from the top right to the bottom and noticed that he forgot to check the last room in B2, he had to be in this room. Wolfgeist slowly floated up to the door, putting his ear (or lack of ear) up against the door to hear inside. He could only somewhat hear the noise of pencil against paper and humming from the other side, this had to be him. Wolf slowly opened the door, trying to make no noise at all and quietly floated up to the noise. There he was, Clem. He was drawing something in a small gray sketchbook and humming to himself, Amadeus couldn't see what he was drawing at all but the look on Clem's face made Amadeus think it was good, good enough to have a blush upon his face and make his face look more hotter pink then it already was. He also had a box of doughnuts with him, some of them already eaten. Amadeus had to see the drawing, so he started to lean over the somewhat wall Clem had in his room, he didn't make sure to be sneaky and not be noticed but he didn't care for it. He started to float over the mechanic to see the drawing, then all of the sudden...

"AGH- FU-"

Wolf covered his mouth, he had hit his head against a pipe that sticked out of the ceiling. It hurted like hell when he touched it and the hit somewhat made Amadeus tear up. But the thing that made the pianist more worried is that, Clem, the smaller ghost he basically was spying on, noticed him. He was still scared from the sound Amadeus made, it scared him half to death! The handyman looked up to look for the noise and only found Mr. Wolfgeist from earlier. The smaller ghost turned a bright rosey red upon seeing pianist but still looked up at him, wondering why he was here of all places. Amadeus looked back at him, he, too, hot as a tomato. There was a couple of minutes before any of them spoke up, Amadeus was too embarrassed, so Clem had to do it.

"Oh... h-hi, Wolf...! Didn't see t'ya there, wait... why are ya here'?"

",,,,,,,"

"Wolf, are ya okay?

"Haha.. ha, oh... ugh. I was just passing by, Clem-"

The pianist gave a nervous laugh to the handyman, as he started to float down to him. One of his hands was behind his back, the golden rubber duck squeaking between his palm and fingers. Clem looked up and eyed Wolfgeist, he was confused about everything. Why was he here? I thought he'll never go around these parts of the hotel. But he was interested by him being here. Amadeus's face was a rosey red as he looked around Clem's room while bringing his hands at the front of his chest.

"Oh, and I almost forgot... I.. found one your rubber ducks on my floor and I.. i just wanna give it back..."

"Bessie! I didn't know ya was gon'!"

The mechanic grabbed the rubber duck from the pianist's hands without hesitation. Amadeus stood there, empty-handed with a cherry red blush on his face, still looking at the smaller ghost. Clem looked up from the duck to Wolfgeist, and give him a ear to ear smile to the pianist. He lifted up his arm and took off his little blue cap from his head, giving a little bow to Amadeus.

"Thank ya for returning her, Wolf! I didn't know she was gon'!"

Amadeus fell silent, making tje mechanic confused. Why he silent? Clem wondered to himself, he put his hand on his head... oh that's why-

_________________

Check out @zikadraws, I used some of their suggestions!

Part 3 will take a while, so stay tuned!

[lakesandquarries]

After the Storm - Chapter Nine

AO3 Link Discord

It’s early morning when Tom hears knocking, quiet but insistent. It takes him a moment to get out of bed, while the knocking grows louder and Maddie aims worried glances at him. 

“I’ll handle it,” he says softly. She lies back down. 

The man at the door doesn’t bother flashing a card at Tom or anything like that. The pristine suit and expressionless face are enough for Tom to know where he’s from. 

“I think you know why we’re here,” he says. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tom says flatly. The government official standing in Tom’s doorway sighs.

“The creature,” he says, and he’s about to say more, but Tom stops him.

“His name is Sonic.”

“The point is, we know he’s here. We appreciate your help dealing with the...previous situation. But we cannot allow you to go on harboring a dangerous fugitive.”

Tom’s eyes narrow, looking at the emotionless man in front of him. “He’s a child,” he says. “And like I said, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen him.”

“Mr. Wachowski, I’m sure you know what the punishment for lying to a government official is. I’m giving you one more chance to confess, and then -”

“Dad?” 

Well. Shit. 

“One second,” Tom says, and he slams the door in the government official’s face.

“Sonic, go back upstairs.”

Sonic does not go back upstairs. He shifts his weight back and forth, hands fidgeting, and says, “They’re here for me.”

Double shit. 

“I’m not gonna let them take you,” Tom says, kneeling down. “We’re gonna figure this out. But I need you to go find Maddie, and tell her what’s happening.”

“You want me to hide.” His ears droop. 

“For now,” Tom says before Sonic can continue, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Like I said. We’re gonna figure this out. I just need you to focus on staying safe for now, okay? I’ll come let you know when it’s okay to come out. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Sonic takes a deep breath, seemingly preparing himself. “Promise?” he asks. 

Holding out his hand, Tom says, “Pinky promise.” They shake on it. 

“Don’t take too long,” he says, “and tell me as soon as they're gone! I’m gonna tell Maddie and then I’m gonna find the best hiding spot and you’ll never see me again if you don’t. I -“

“Kiddo,” Tom says, fondly exasperated. 

“Okay Dad I love you bye!” There’s a familiar gust of wind, and Sonic is gone.

Once Tom is confident Sonic’s somewhere safe, he reopens the door. “Sorry about that. Where were we?”

The government agent - Paul, Tom decides, since he hasn’t given a name and saying “the government agent” is getting annoying - glares at him. 

“Do you think I’m stupid, Mr. Wachowski?”

“A little, yeah. I mean, you seriously think I have any interest in helping you hunt down some kid?” He goes to grab his badge, only to realize he’s still in his pyjamas, and he’s wearing the pants with little rubber ducks on them. Whatever. He can still be intimidating. 

“I made a promise to protect this town,” he says, voice low. “That includes scaring off any government wack jobs that think they need to go poking around and bothering people, because of a child.”

“Mr. Wachowski -”

“Get out of my town,” he says, and slams the door again.

--

Tom watches through the curtains (carefully chosen for their complete coverage) as Paul drives away, then spends an hour combing for any kind of trackers or cameras. Maddie catches him on his third sweep of the living room, which good ol’ Paul hadn’t even seen, and he starts to wonder if maybe he’s losing it a little.

“What are you doing?” Maddie asks, appearing in the doorway. 

Tom is currently halfway through checking the couch cushions, as in unzipping them and trying to feel around in the stuffing. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Thomas Michael Wachowski,” she says, in the tone of voice that made Tom first think she might make a good mom. It’s not as fun having it turned on him.

“Someone came,” he says, zipping the cushion back up. “They’re still looking for him, Mads. I can’t -”

“I know,” she says, stepping closer, taking his hands in her own. “We won’t let them find him.”

“They shouldn’t even be looking,” he says bitterly, squeezing her hand. “He’s dealt with enough already.”

“Well, he’s got us now,” Maddie says. She leans in close to kiss his cheek. “He’s got you.”

“Ah yes. Because a guy wearing rubber ducky pjs is super badass.”

“Don’t swear,” Maddie chastises. “Can’t have Sonic picking up on bad habits.” She kisses him again, properly this time, before heading up the stairs to go grab Sonic.

Tom gives the couch cushions one last squeeze. Just to be safe.

Sonic does a good job of pretending things are normal, or at the very least he’s doing better than Tom is. Maddie makes breakfast, and they all sit at the table and eat, and if Tom keeps glancing at the curtains every ten seconds, no one says anything. After breakfast, Sonic starts pestering Tom to get out the xbox, which normally takes a bit of convincing. Today Sonic’s barely asked before Tom is grabbing it, loading up some old two player platformer he can get lost in.

He has work tomorrow. He’ll talk to Wade (in code? No, that’ll just confuse Wade. Over text? Worse. Too easy to track. He’ll take him for a hike, and they’ll talk by a waterfall or something, to mask their voices - god, he’s getting paranoid. Is that bad? Probably. Well, he’s in too deep to do anything about it.)

“Dad,” Sonic says, nudging his leg with the tip of his shoe. “I beat the level.”

“What? Oh. Jeez, kid. Nice job.”

“You seem kinda distracted,” Sonic says, nudging him again. “Is this about -”

“We’re gonna handle it,” Tom says quickly. Too quickly, because Sonic frowns.

“It’s bad,” he says. “Isn’t it?”

Well. No point in lying.

“It’s not ideal.”

Sonic wrings his hands together. “I don’t wanna go to the mushroom planet,” he mumbles.

“You’re not gonna. Not even on the table. I -” I would kill the entire US government before letting that happen, is what he thinks, but does not say, because wow that’s a lot to drop on a thirteen year old. “I promised everything was gonna be fine. Pinky promised. Can’t go back on those.”

Sonic smiles at him, wobbly and fragile. Tom holds his arms out, leaving himself open to be hugged, and Sonic takes the bait, practically tackling Tom.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Sonic says, slightly muffled. His face is buried in Tom’s shoulder, acting more like a koala than a hedgehog. 

Little late for that, he thinks. “I know you wanna protect me. But you don’t need to. I’m gonna be fine, and so are you, and so is Maddie. We got rid of Robotnik, didn’t we? After that, I think we can handle anything.” Impulsively, he leans down, giving Sonic a kiss on his forehead. It’s a weird feeling, kinda like when Tom licked a battery as a kid, but not in a bad way. The important thing is that Sonic seems happy. He squeaks, hugging Tom tighter, which he hadn’t even thought possible. 

This wasn’t what Tom had expected when he thought about having kids, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

[winchester-with-wings]

Chemical Reactions (Part 20)

Series Summary: Being a teacher at Central City Academy doesn’t leave much time for a personal life. You didn’t really notice or care…that is until the day the new substitute science teacher, Barry Allen makes an appearance.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 20 Summary: Spring Break is over and Barry can’t wait to see you. He needs to talk to you too...

Pairing: Barry Allen x Reader, Substitute Teacher!Barry Allen x Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1400ish

A/N: Hope ya’ll like it! Thank you to my amazing friend and beta @thinkwritexpress-official!! Hey guys! Do you think I should start a patreon? Am I good enough for that?

Please let me know what you guys think of the story! Send me asks!

Mobile Masterlist / Ko-Fi (Tips are appreciated!)

* I don’t own the gif. I had to track it down on google. look at that suit ;) *

You come back just at the end of Spring Break.

Everyone had been concerned that your aunt’s sickness was serious and goodbyes were imminent, but treatments at the hospital had everyone counting their lucky stars as she pulled through.

What kept you sane, the entire time, was Barry’s constant check ins with texts and calls. At night you’d find a moment to Facetime between family meals. It was slightly awkward for you to be in this place, and Barry was the only one who understood. You were surrounded by extended family which you barely knew since your parents were gone. It sometimes felt like you were only invited out of pity and obligation. The look on your aunt’s face as she recovered in the hospital ensured that you did have a rightful place there though.

You return late on a Sunday night. All you can manage is a text to Barry and Caitlin letting them know that you’d made it home safe. Then you passed out.

The next day is the first day back from Spring Break and you can sympathize with your students as they grumble about coming back to school. They’re only fourth graders though! What do they really have to gripe about? They have many more years of school ahead of them.

Since no one wants to do schoolwork, you turn on the projector and put on some BBC Planet Earth documentary. That counts as science, right?

You’re watching the show right along with them, almost dozing off as you rest your chin in your hand. Your phone buzzes in your purse. The room is dark enough so you pull it out.

“Meet me at the track field after school,” Barry’s text reads.

“Okie dokie,” you respond, reading the words in your head with your upbeat teacher voice.

When an elephant goes to trumpet on the show, the bell rings, jolting everyone awake.

You don’t make it out to the track right away at the end of the day. Your classroom needs to be cleaned up and you have some tests to grade that shouldn’t take long. You don’t want to take them home.

You text Barry to let him know that you’ll be just a little while. He doesn’t respond.

“This break is over. Wanna have dinner at my place tonight?” you text him while holding your grading pen between your lips. Again, no answer. Around 4:30, you frown at your phone and decide to call him.

“Hi! You’ve reached Barry Allen. I’m probably at school right now and can’t answer. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you.”

You hang up, resolving to find a stopping place in your grading and call it a day. You collect your things and put on your black and white peacoat.

It’s still cold outside as you make your way to the football field. The rubber-paved running track surrounds it. There’s no one on the field and you’re starting to wonder why Barry asked you to come out here. You set your tote bag on the bleachers. You notice Barry’s gym bag a few feet away. Walking over to it, you see his phone is inside and blinking with your unread text messages.

Shuffling feet from behind were enough to alarm you but when someone pinches your sides, you spin around and swing your hand to defend yourself.

You’d squealed as if it were as good a cry for help but it’s cut off as Barry ducks your swiping hand and wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing.

“Hey stranger! Long time no see!”

“Bartholomew Henry Allen! Don’t scare me like that!” You smack his back and Barry laughs, releasing you and stepping back. “What the hell are you wearing?”

It’s a tight, red spandex, one piece leotard-esque tracksuit with straps instead of sleeves and shorts that stop mid-thigh. It leaves little to the imagination and Barry seems aware of it as he pulls on the end of his shorts, bringing your attention away from his crotch and rigid midsection.

“It’s my old tracksuit. Didn’t I tell you that I used to run track? It’s aerodynamic...and it still fits. Whaddaya think, eh?” He puts his hands on his hips and does a little twirl.

“No, you never told me that.” It makes sense though. Barry has a runner’s body, lean and taut. God, you’ve missed him.

Noticing that your attention is being divided by his face and other body parts, Barry digs into his gym bag to grab a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He pecks you on the lips after pulling the shirt over his head. You look around quickly right afterward.

“Don’t worry. There’s no one around.” He picks up his phone and notices your texts and missed call. “Oh crap, I’m sorry, Babe. I was running.”

“You’re running now?”

“Yeah, had to fill the time without my girlfriend somehow…” he shrugs, laughing it off. “Hey, come here,” he whispers and pulls on your hand.

“Barry, what are you d-...”

Barry pulls you behind the bleachers, takes you into his arms, and kisses you. His lips are warm and somehow, even through the sweat, he smells like cinnamon. You sigh sweetly as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Mmm,” you hum. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you,” you whisper between kisses. Barry’s tongue seizes the chance to enter while you’re talking. His tongue tangles with yours and his hands come up to hold your face as he desperately and passionately kisses you.

“You starved me of your touch, woman. Never again,” Barry growls, pulling back to look you in the eyes. His thumb runs over your kiss-swollen bottom lip. “So beautiful,” he whispers.

“Yeah, you are,” you giggle, tugging on his t-shirt and bringing him down for another kiss.

“Oh, wait,” Barry pulls back with pursed lips. You follow him, unwilling to break the kiss. “W-wa-wait...I need to talk to you,” he says rather suddenly.

There’s a gasp and it’s not one of your own. It surprises Barry into pulling away some more. There’s a quiet squeak, a loud thump, and then feet digging into gravel.

“What was that?” Barry asks, looking around. You hold your breath as you do the same until you see it.

“Oh, Barry.”

“What?”

“This is bad.” You walk out from under the bleachers and pick up a textbook.

“Is that yours?”

“No. It’s a student’s.”

“What just happened back there?” Barry asks as the two of you enter your apartment. You’d left the textbook behind. Whoever it belonged to would come back for it and you and Barry wouldn’t be there. Not when there was already a chance…

“I think someone saw us.” You collapse on your couch. Barry comes to you, pulling you up into a seated position so he can help you take off your jacket.

“Really?”

“Barry, someone saw us under those bleachers. We’ve been caught,” you start to panic, feeling a lump in your throat and your chest tighten as your breathing picks up.

“But we were being careful. No one could possibly know…” Barry looks like even he doesn't believe what he's saying. He even looks slightly guilty. As he should; right along with you. The two of you knew you could get in trouble and did it anyway.

“Students have access to the field outside of school hours, Barry. How could we be so reckless?” Your fingers tangle in your hair as you start to hyperventilate.

“Could’ve been a student athlete…” Barry murmurs to himself as if searching for answers. Once he notices your silence and heavy breathing, he looks up. “Hey, hey, calm down, sweetie. Y/N, we don’t know that for sure. For all we know, they might think we’re a couple of seniors. How could they know it was us…? I mean…our faces were kinda concealed...and busy.”

“Barry, you’re not taking this seriously,” you start to cry.

“Yes, I am.” Barry takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair and linking his fingers on the back of his neck. “I am. I know it’s serious. But there’s no use in worrying about it until we know for sure.” Barry wraps you up in his arms while you continue to panic and cry.

The two of you--mostly you--are in a state of worry for the next three days. Until Friday morning when you get an email from the Dean’s office.

“A meeting has been scheduled for you with Dr. Stein at 3 pm.”

tagging: @faithtrustandpixiedust95 @autoblocked @book-loving--anime-chick @abbessolute @overlyobsethed @therealcap @whoopxd @bookworm4ever99 @geeksareunique @potterwolf16 @frankie2902 @fabinapercabeth4179 @yessoftball-lover06 @maia11lucero @barry-writes @ravenhaviland @clockblobber @karazoiel @iammsamy @k-vruck @parkerschurros @smileybarryallen @justareader

[humanitys-shortest-soldier]

Nerd/Popular AU (Part 3)

Akashi paced nervously outside the gymnasium. He checked his watch for what felt like the thousandth time, even though he’d only arrived less than ten minutes ago.

The doors were cracked open, and Akashi could hear the steady beat of basketballs on the court coming from inside. He resisted the urge to poke his head in to try and catch a glimpse. He was incredibly curious, but the nagging worry that his presence might not be wanted here kept him away.

Of course, he was here to meet someone. But that particular person might not want his friends and teammates to know exactly who he was spending time with.

Furihata had never said anything of the sort. He seemed friendly enough, when he asked if Akashi would mind meeting him after practice.

Akashi had agreed easily at the time. Although now that he was here, with the sound of rubber soles squeaking on the hardwood floor and the rhythm of basketballs dribbling on the court, he couldn’t help but be reminded of that moment all those years ago that drew him to Furihata in the first place.

Akashi shuffled outside, trailing behind the flock of students who were racing out the door. He had a book cradled against chest. It was his favorite, and he wanted to take it with him instead of leaving it inside.

At his old school, he always sat inside during recess. The courtyard outside was always crowded, and full of kids playing various games and roughhousing, neither of which offered much interest to Akashi.

Well, some of it did. But it wasn’t like he had friends to play with anyway.

This new school was no different. The kids here stared at him too. He knew he looked a little different, and talked kinda funny. Oh, and he was smart, and answered every question the teacher asked with ease.

He was beginning to learn that last part didn’t impress his classmates as much as he thought. It did tend to bring on a chorus of snickers, though. And name-calling.

The main difference now, was that his new teacher didn’t seem to think it was a good idea for an eight year old boy to sit alone during recess.

So he was ushered outside, taking his book with him. Maybe he could find a quiet place to sit and read…

A basketball court lay right outside the doors. Kids were packed on the court, broken into several teams with no real structure. Balls were being thrown and passed, bouncing off the school walls, the court, and the occasional head of a student not paying attention to their surroundings.

On the other side of the pavement, Akashi could see what looked like a nice grassy area. A few students were scattered there too, running and shrieking with laughter. He couldn’t probably find a spot, though. All he had to do was cross the court…

He edged around the sides, ducking and dodging his fellow classmates as they chased after the flyaway balls. Someone bumped his shoulder, and another nearly tripped over his shoe.

He was several feet away when he finally went down. A taller boy shoved past him, looking back with the ball in his hands. Before he could regain his footing, another boy, and then another ran past, clearly chasing after the first boy with the ball.

Akashi hit the ground, his book scattering across the blacktop. He landed hard on his rear and his arms, wincing at the pain.

His glasses were crooked on his face, and as he reached to adjust them another student bumped his elbow, sending the frames out of his hands and skipping on the ground. He fumbled for them, his vision blurry. He didn’t know how he was going to find them now. And even if he could, they had to be broken by now. Tears welled in his eyes.

What was he going to do…

“Hey��� are you okay?”

Akashi squinted up at the voice. He couldn’t see much, other than brownish colored hair. The boy (he assumed) moved closer, holding out both arms wide.

“Stop running!” he called, blocking the kids still trying to run by. “Go around, slow down — stop! Don’t step on those!”

The boy knelt down, grabbing Akashi by the elbow. “C’mon, lets get outta here. Can you stand?”

Akashi nodded dumbly, rising to his feet and gripping the boy by the back of his shirt.

“Stay close to me,” the boy instructed.

Akashi pressed close against his back, keeping his head down and squinting at their feet. Soon enough there was grass beneath them, and Akashi let go of a breath he’d been holding.

The boy stopped and turned around. “Here,” he said, patting the bench of picnic table near the back wall.

Akashi sat automatically, and the boy sat next to him. Hands came close to his face, and Akashi jumped a little, startled.

“It’s okay,” the boy said. “I found your glasses. I can’t believe they didn’t get crushed.”

Akashi’s breath caught in his throat  “Oh… thanks.” The boy placed his glasses behind his ears, and Akashi reached to adjust them. He blinked a few times, and then looked at his rescuer.

It was someone Akashi didn’t recognize from any of his classes, but he looked to be about his age. His eyes were unusually large, but they were bright enough to rival the toothy grin on his face.

“Man, that looked pretty rough in there. I can’t believe no one stopped.” He shook his head. “Oh! I’m Furihata Kouki, by the way!”

He stuck out his hand. Akashi blinked, confused. He extended his arm, shaking Furihata’s hand. He opened his mouth to introduce himself —

“Crap!” Furihata exclaimed. “You’re elbow, look! Gosh, you’re bleeding all over the place!”

Akashi glanced down at his arm with alarm, only to see a small amount of blood welling at the scrapped skin.  “It’s not so bad,” Akashi said. He looked back at Furihata, only to see the other boy digging through his pockets.

“Ah-ha!” he said triumphantly. He extended his hand, a balled-up, wrinkled band-aid in his palm. “I always carry one, just in case. You can have this one, though.”

Akashi blinked. “That’s very kind of you, but I—”

“Here,” Furihata interrupted, pulling the paper wrapper open. “Let me help.”

Akashi stuck his arm out obediently. He didn’t know why he didn’t protest more. He felt oddly compelled, to let this boy help him…

Furihata gently placed the band-aid over the scape, his tongue pinched between his teeth. He smoothed down the edges, and leaned back with a grin, satisfied with his work. “There you go!” he cheered. “All better. How do you feel?”

He asked with such genuine concern. All Akashi could do was stare at the other boy in awe.

None of this classmates had ever treated him so kindly before.

“Or did you hit your head too? Are you okay?” Furihata waved his hand in front of his face.

“I—yes,” Akashi stammered. “I mean yes, I’m okay. No, I didn’t hit my head.”  He looked Furihata in the eyes. They were a pretty color, a warm sort of brown…

Furihata grinned. “Cool! I’m really glad you’re okay.” He pushed to this feet, looking over his shoulder to the many games that were still in progress. His expression brightened. “Well, I’m gonna head back. I’ll see you around, kay?”

“Wait, I—” Akashi tried to say, but Furihata had already turned, weaving between classmates with ease. His mop of brown hair disappeared with the crowd.

Akashi stayed on the bench, watching the other children play, and thinking about what had just happened.

He didn’t even realize until later that he never retrieved his book.

Akashi shook his head to clear the memories. That was the first and last time he had spoken to Furihata, until this recent project. They never shared a class together in grade school, and Akashi never had to courage to approach him during their free time outdoors. Especially since Furihata was always surrounded by so many other students.

He’d always kept an eye on Furihata, though. That simple act of kindness never faded from his mind. Even when Akashi went to a different middle school, he always remembered the kind boy with brown eyes who had stopped to help him when no one else did.

It had been quite the shock when Akashi discovered the high school he had chosen was the same one Furihata had decided to attend. Akashi had caught a glimpse of him in the hall, stopping dead in his tracks, his mind wretched back years in the past to a grade school playground. And Furihata had turned, looking right at him…

… and then greeted someone else, his eyes flickering right past Akashi. He looped his arm around his friend, walking towards him. And then right by, and around the corner, out of sight.

Akashi had hung his head, feeling strangely hurt. He knew he had no reason to feel that way. Of course someone with as many friends as Furihata wouldn’t remember one little moment that happened years ago…

But still, he couldn’t help but notice Furihata, whenever he was around. He was even more charismatic as a teenager, Akashi learned. And just as popular, and even better at sports. Particularly basketball.

Akashi had come to to watch a game only once. He felt foolish, sitting in a crowd, watching a sport he couldn’t play and a boy who would never acknowledge him. He went home before half time.

Yet here he stood now, outside that same gym, waiting to meet with Furihata. He edged toward the doors again, listening.

A whistle blew, and some of the scuffling noise stopped.

Indistinct chatter echoed from inside. He thought he heard a familiar voice, and then a set of footsteps were racing this way…

Akashi backed away just as the door pushed open. Furihata poked his head out, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He noticed Akashi immediately.

“Hey, you made it!” he greeted easily. “Sorry, practice ran a little late. Are you cool to wait a little longer? I just gotta shower real quick and then we can head out.”

Akashi blinked. He reached up to adjust his glasses, feeling self conscious, for some reason. “Of course,”  he said. “It’s no trouble at all.”

Furihata grinned. “Sweet.” He paused for a moment. “Hey, you wanna come wait in here?” He pushed the door open more. “It’s getting a little chilly out.”

“Are—are you sure?” Akashi asked. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Furihata laughed a little. “Definitely, it’s no problem at all. C’mon in.”

Akashi sucked in a breath. Furihata held the door open, and Akashi ducked in under his arm. He stood against the wall as it swung shut, feeling more out of place than ever. Everyone was looking…

“Go ahead and take a seat, if you want.” Furihata gestured to the bleachers nearby. “I’ll be right out.”

Akashi forced a nod. “Thank you.”

He made his way to the bleachers, keeping his gaze down the whole way. He had no idea what Furihata’s teammates thought of him being here.

He couldn’t help but think that he was probably better off not knowing.

A/N: So... this took a long time, obviously. And I’m really, really sorry about that. (And I’m sure more people wanted the next chapter of Exactly My Type instead of this, and I’ve been working on that too, but I just really wanted to post something and this was easier and shorter and...here it is lol. Hope you enjoy! I’ll try and be back soon with something a little more exciting <3

[fluidityandgiggles]

An idea about Deceit.

I feel like the fandom has forgotten that Deceit is not a villain. I mean, I did for a very long time too. My major fanfics for the fandom include him as some sort of abusive villain.

But... lying comes in many shapes and forms. And people have presented them already, so I present a new one. One that I haven’t seen yet.

Deceit as Patton’s baby brother.

Now, this comes from the fact that not all lying is bad, and in fact it is a crucial step in a child’s development. Kids learn to lie at around three or four years old and all have their reasons to lie.

And so, I present to you. Just a tiny fic on the matter. (For the sake of it, Deceit’s name is Dorian in this. I keep changing his name but do I care? NOPE.)

—————

“Hey Patton.” There were light touches on Patton’s shoulder. “Hey Patton.” A tiny squeak. “Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Pat-“

“Hey kiddo.”

Dorian, Patton’s five-years old brother, was clutching his rubber duck (aptly named Daveed) and looking straight at him with big, scared eyes.

...oh.

“Did you have another nightmare?”

“Mm-hmm...”

“Okay, come on. Jump in.” Patton rolled on his back and Dorian immediately crawled under Patton’s blanket, a huge smile on his face. “What’s that smile about, kiddo?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Patton’s phone lit up.

‘Lolo💙💙 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: Princey’s ideas are completely chimerical and I refuse to work with him on this project any longer without Patton and Virgil’s intervention.’

‘🌟PRINCEY🌟 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: well then i refuse to work with mr pocket protector on this as well!’

His friends were crazy.

‘My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: SHUT THE FUCK UP ITS TWO IN THE MORNING GO TO SLEEP’

“Okay, Dorian. Come on. Tell me about your nightmare.”

“No!” Dorian’s duck gave a sad squeak.

“Dory, kiddo, you kinda have to if you want me to help.”

‘JD, Chandler, go to sleep. We can do the project in the morning. I promise I’ll bring brownies! xx’

‘Lolo💙💙: Good night, Patton. I’m sorry we woke you up.’

‘Oh, you didn’t, honey! My brother did. See you at school! And don’t kill each other!’

“Come on. You came here because of your nightmares? So I wanna hear them.”

‘🌟PRINCEY🌟: tell him i said gnight and give him a big kiss aight pat? night!’

��There was a giant,” Dorian started. “In the nightmare. And it was rainbow, and it was scary, and it was running to me, and...”

“You mean chasing you?”

“Huh? yeah, yeah... that’s what I meaned. So the giant was...”

Dorian started rambling about his nightmare and Patton could honestly feel himself falling asleep all over again, but he couldn’t allow himself that. At least not while Dorian was talking.

‘Lolo💙💙: I can see you’re still online, Patton. Is anything wrong?’

‘Yeah... my brother just talks a lot, that’s all. I’m going to sleep, I promise! Love you ❤️❤️’

“...and then, and then... I forgot.” Dorian was starting to doze off. Good. Patton had his hand in his brother’s hair, trying to keep from falling asleep himself before his brother...

His mom was going to be so mad when she finds out when they fell asleep.

——

“What do you mean, your brother lied about having a nightmare?”

“I mean my mom came to wake me up today and started the morning with a ‘you have to stop sneaking out of your room just to have a midnight chat, Dorian, it’s not good for you’. I’m serious!” Roman was fiddling with the red scrunchie on his wrist as Patton paced around the stage. ”He’s only five, Roman! What’s going to happen to him if he keeps losing sleep like that? That’s not healthy!”

“Wow, Patton... your brother lies to you - your kid brother lies to you - and you’re worried about his sleep schedule?!”

“Calm down, Chandler, this isn’t the thunderdome just yet,” the familiar monotone voice called, accompanied by footsteps. My savior is here! “A steady sleep schedule is very important for the circadian rhythm.”

“Dorian woke me up at two in the morning to have a talk and told me that he had a nightmare. Good to see you too, Lolo.”

“I take it you’re tired.” Patton grunted. “Why don’t you set boundaries?”

“Have you met my brother?”

“Yes, in fact. I have been over to your house quite some-”

“That’s not what I meant, Lolo.”

“I think what puffball here is trying to say is, his brother is the cutest kid in the world. Would you deny him anything? I know I wouldn’t!”

“It’s not even that, Roman. It’s just...” Patton started pacing again. “He’s the cutest kid, yes, but he’s also so set on breaking the rules all the time!”

“And I think we all know who he got that from, puffball-Veronica.”

“I just know that he wouldn’t care about any boundaries I might set.”

“Do you think Ms. Caulfield would mind you three hanging on stage like that?”

“Goddamnit, Virgil...”

“Great to see that Veronica Sawyer, Heather Chandler and Jason Dean are all breaking the rules as should be,” Virgil noted with an awkward smirk. One of the rare ones. “You know we’re not rehearsing here today, yeah?”

“We all came here for break before rehearsals, Mr. Stage Manager, please.” Roman threw his scrunchie on Virgil. “My dear darling boyfriend, please make sense of the situation at hand.”

“Yes, Roman?”

“Patton’s adorable little kid brother Dorian lied about having a nightmare last night just so he could have a midnight talk and all Patton is worried about is his sleep schedule.”

“Wait, he really did that?” Patton nodded, biting a nail. “Wow. I’m oddly proud.”

“Not you too!” Roman let out a loud groan. “This kid lied about-“

“You literally stayed up until three thirty last night to text me about Dan and Phil playing the sims, Romano. You’re not one to talk.”

“Do you have no shame accusing me of such a thing, Virgil? I thought you loved me!”

“Princey, I do love you. But you’re just so insufferable sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

When rehearsals started a bit later, it seemed as if Roman forgot all about what happened.

——

“Hey kiddo,” Patton said with a giant smile as he got home. His brother was in the living room, watching cartoons. Patton assumed their mother was in her office painting mandalas, which would’ve been the only explanation as to why Dorian was watching cartoons.

...while sporting a huge black eye.

“Patton! I’m watching something and I don’t know what it is but-“

“What’s that shiner you got over there, Dorian?”

“It’s nothin’. I runned to a door handle thingy.” He pulled his shoulder, squeezing his rubber duck.

“Do you need some ice to put on it, buddy?” Dorian shook his head. “Okay. How about donuts? Would they make you feel better?”

“Yes! But not from where mommy gets the donuts because that’s where Jake Baker’s mommy works and Jake Baker doesn’t like me and he hit me today and pushed me and I felled on a swing and I don’t wanna go around him.”

...ran into a doorknob, huh.

“Didn’t you go to Dahlia’s today, honey?”

“No. I didn’t want to.”

“Patton, sweetheart?” Their mother called from her office.

“Hey, Mom!”

“How was rehearsal today, sweetheart?”

“It was good! I’ll tell you at dinner!”

Things mostly fell into silence after that, Patton joining Dorian in watching the cartoon (Voltron, Patton noted, one of the cartoons he did not want Dorian to watch without him around). And then...

“Can I have cereal, Patton?”

“Of course.” Patton got up to the kitchen. “What did you have for lunch, Dorian?”

“Uhh... a sandwich. And an apple! From Dahlia!”

“That sounds like a nice lunch, kiddo.” No it didn’t. “Which cereal?”

“I don’t care.” So fruit loops. Alright.

By the time Patton got back to the living room, Dorian’s stomach was growling. Of course. That kid was adorable, but he needed to stop lying.

“Why’d you tell me you had lunch today?” Dorian looked up from his cereal bowl. “You didn’t. I could hear it.”

“But I did!”

“You don’t like apples, Dory. I know you don’t.” The kid’s face started turning red. “Come on. Why’d you lie to me?”

“...I forgot lunch at home. But I did eat the apple!” Patton shot him a look. “I swear I did!”

“Look, kiddo... lying isn’t always a bad thing, but you gotta learn when to.” Dorian looked confused. “You shouldn’t lie about lunch, because not eating isn’t good for you. You shouldn’t lie about nightmares, because sleep is very important for everyone, including you. You especially, Dorian. And most of all, you shouldn’t lie about being hurt. If someone hurt you, you tell me. I’ll make everything okay. Okay?”

“...I did eat an apple.”

“...okay. Let’s go with that.”

——

“Hey Patton.” A light touch on his shoulder. “Hey Patton.” A soft squeak. “Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Patton. Hey Pat-“

“Hey kiddo. Another nightmare?”

Patton rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses, looking at his brother as he climbed into his bed. His phone was buzzing with texts.

‘Lolo💙💙 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: I’ve been listening to Burn from Hamilton for the last hour and a half. Some help would be welcome.’

‘🌟PRINCEY🌟 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: no can do, compadre! youre on your own in this!’

‘My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: @ Lolo💙💙 hey you, out there in the cold, getting lonely, getting old, can you feel me?’

‘Lolo💙💙 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: @  My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 wow... Thanks on somehow making it worse, Virgil.’

‘My Dark Strange Son 😈💜 @ DIGGITY DANG A DANG: anytime, sherlock’

‘Go to sleep, will ya? It’s one thirty in the morning!’

“So... nightmare?” Dorian hummed. “Wanna tell me?”

This was going to be a very long night.

—————

Tag list:

@broadwaytheanimatedseries @illmamnim @royal-raccoon @face-the-ravenclaw @winnie-the-patton

[curious-shadow-cat]

Boris in: Dancing with the Devil Pg2

        Boris woke up and stretched as he yawned. He itched his head. He got out of bed and put on his pants. He went outside and let out the sheep from the barn. He counted them up and frozed.

Boris:"There's....wait, no, that's not right." He recounted them again."There's suppose to be thirty. There's ten missing." He quickly searched the barn for them making sure they weren't asleep somewhere."Oh no..." He looked for any tracks for any fox's that might have snuck in last night. His ears flattened when saw only shoe tracks. He clenched his fists and growled."Oooh! That just burns me!" He said a bit angrily. He sighed. He watched the sheep eat and wander for a little while before locking them back up in the barn and getting in his truck. He drove down the dirt path. When he drove into town his eyes widened."What the...?!" There were people trying to scrub out the ink off the walls and windows."What the heck happened?" He stopped by Ched's store and went in."Mr. Ched?" He called. Ched was on the phone.

Ched:"I don't care whether you believe me or not! I'm telling ya, a little demon came in last night and stole my candy bars! Hello?! Hello?!" He snarled and slammed down the phone. He looked up at Boris.

Boris:"Someone stole your candy bars?" He slammed his fists down on the counter.

Ched:"Yes! It was a demon I tell ya! Short, had horns, a tail, and he was wearing a bow tie and gloves!" Boris itched his head looking a little confused.

Boris:"That's odd." He said.

Ched:"Not only that, he attacked me with ink! Made me hit my off the shelves."

Boris:"You sure it wasn't some kid in a costume Mr. Ched?"

Ched:"Ohh, far from it! I hear he attacked Mrs. Mo last night too!" The wolf's eyes widened in shock.

Boris:"Mrs. Mo? Why would anyone attack someone like her? She's the sweetest lady in town!" Ched shook his head.

Ched:"Who knows and who cares? Someone's gotta pay for stealing my stuff! AND ruining my favorite shirt!" Boris left the store and drove to Mrs. Mo's store.

Boris:"Mrs. Mo?" He called. She came out from the other room and looked relieved when she saw Boris.

Mo:"Oh hello Boris. I was just cleaning up after....what happened last night."

Boris:"I heard you were attacked but you look fine to me."

Mo:"Oh, that little devil didn't lay a hand on me, but I did manage to knock his head off his shoulders with my broom...literally." She mumbled."He ate one of my cakes and ruined one of the others. Not only that, he drew on my face!" Boris put his hands on his hips.

Boris:"Now don't you worry Mrs. Mo, I'm gunna get to the bottom of this. I'll find out who's been causing trouble around town and stop them!"

Mo:"Oh dearie, you don't have to do this."

Boris:"Nope! I've already decided! Besides, someone stole my sheep!"

Mo:"Oh no! That's terrible. I'm so sorry."

"STAMPEDE!!!"

Boris's ears went up as he spun around. He left the store and saw his sheep running through town. One demon was riding on one of the sheep's.

Bendy:"WOOOO! I'am King of the Sheep!" He laughed.

Mo:"That's him!" She pointed out."That's the devil who stole my cakes!" Boris jumped on one of the sheep and chased after him.

Boris:"Hey! Get back here!" He yelled. Bendy looked back and grinned mischievously.

Bendy:"Ohh, look! Someone wants to play!" He giggled. Boris hopped onto the next sheep, then the next, then the next, to get closer to Bendy. Bendy saw him and gasped. He stood up and jumped through an open window of a building. Boris did the same thing and fell in a puddle of ink.

Boris:"Ew!" He said and shook it off.  He looked around and saw Bendy in the elevator across the hall waving at him. He ran towards him.

Bendy:"GOOOING UP!" He pressed a button and the doors closed. Boris slammed into them flat. He fell backwards and landed on his back. He sat up and shook his head. He saw what floor he was heading to and ran up the stairs. When he reached the floor he saw Bendy waving at him once again. He growled and ran towards him again."GOOOING DOWN!" The doors closed and he stopped himself from running into them. He ran back down the stairs and looked a little tired. He saw Bendy leaning against the door ways and winked at him as he waved. Boris bared his teeth at him. He took in  a deep breath and sighed. He walked towards him instead of running.

Boris:"Okay look, let's talk about-" He was interrupted by ink to the face and he slid across the floor on his back. Bendy laughed as he pointed at him.

Bendy:"Careful! Wouldn't wanna slip into an accident now do we? AHAHAHA!" He ran into one of the rooms. Boris chased after him.

Boris:"Where you at devil?" He called as he looked around the room. He looked under the bed. He wasn't there. He heard the shower running and a familiar voice singing. He went in the bathroom. He moved the curtains and the demon screamed. Boris jumped back startled and quickly closed the curtain."Woops! Sorry!" He left the bathroom quickly. He was about to leave but then frozed."Hey wait a minute!" He went back in the bathroom and moved the curtains again."Got ya!" He said but there was only ink  going down the drain."Huh?" He itched his head. Just then he heard something squeak behind him and he turned only to find the demon lifting his foot off the rubber duck. He smiled nervously at Boris and chuckled.

Bendy:"Uh, hi?" Boris went to grab him but he spat ink on him again. He ran out of the bathroom and Boris chased after him once more. They ran up the stairs and went to the top of the building. Bendy ran to the edge of the building. He looked back at Boris and held out one hand."Hold it!" Boris stopped and his eyes widened-fearing what he was going to say."Take one more step and I'll jump! I'll do it!" Boris shook his head.

Boris:"No wait! Don't do it!" He begged.

Bendy:"I will! Watch me!" He stepped off the building and screamed as he fell. Boris yiped and jumped over after him. Only to find that he was hanging off the side by his tail. Boris screamed as he fell towards the ground. He shut his eyes tight and waited to hit the ground. However, something grabbed his legs and lowered him down safely. He looked up and saw Bendy standing over him grinning."Aww, did you fall over for little old me?" He kissed his nose."Mmmmmmmua! AAHhahahahaha!" He giggled before taking off again. Boris rubbed his nose and shook his head. He looked up at the building he fell from. He looked back at where Bendy used to be.

Boris:"He didn't let me hit the ground?" He stood up. He shook his head and chased after him.

He found Bendy eating someone's lunch at an unfinished building.

Boris:"Aha! I finally found you!" Bendy's eyes widened and he took off running again inside the building."Wait!"

Bendy:"Ah geez! You don't know when to quit do ya?" He asked."That's okay though! I love playing a good old game of  hide and seek!" He jumped in a drawer.

Boris:"Hey!" He looked inside but there was only ink. He looked around.

"Yoohoo~I'm up here.~"

Boris looked up and saw the demon grinning at him from the top of the stairs. He quickly ran up only to fall through the steps. He held on and pulled himself up. He ran down the hall and looked in the first room on the left. He came back out seeing that he wasn't in there and saw Bendy walked out of one of the rooms in the middle of the hallway and entered another. Boris chased after him. He opened the door but it was a small closet. He itched his head looking confused.

Boris:"How does he do that?" He asked but mostly to himself.

"Oh buddy.~"

Boris looked only to see the demon shaking his butt at him.

Bendy:"Can't catch me!" Boris growled and ran after him."AAH!" He ran once more and looked back at Boris. He grinned."Ha! You can't REALLY catch me! No one can-" He tripped over a bucket of paint and slipped across the hallway and fell down a hole in the floor. Boris gasped. "Well, this is a sticky situation." Boris ran to the hole and looked down.

Boris:"W-where'd ya go?" He looked and saw the demon holding onto a pipe. It looked like a long way down. Boris reached towards him."Here, grab my hand!" Bendy raised a brow.

Bendy:"Why are you helping me? I thought you were mad!" He said.

Boris:"Yeah but I don't to hurt you!"

Bendy:"Ha! Very funny. As if no one wants to hurt a demon like me." He took out a cigar and snapped his fingers. There was a flame on his thumb and he lit the cigar.

Boris:"Don't smoke that!"

Bendy:"Why not? It's gunna be my last so, cheers, I guess."

Boris:"It's not going to be your last if you just take my hand!" Bendy stared at him for a few more seconds before finally sighing.

Bendy:"Well, alright then." He reached for his hand but was too short."I..can't reach!" He slipped."AH!" He grabbed the pipe and climbed back up. Boris stretched out a little farther.

Boris:"Try now!" Bendy stretched out his arm again. He stretched out his body farther and could almost grab his hand. He suddenly slipped but Boris managed to grab his hand on time and quickly pulled him up out of the hole and held him close tightly."Phew, that was a close one." He said.

Bendy:"Sure was-" The ceiling fell in front of them and Boris spun around and ran screaming. He ran through the halls with Bendy in his arms as the building began to fall apart behind them. He ran down the stairs and jumped through the door way. Smoke filled the air around them. Boris coughed and stood up.

Boris:"Are you okay-" He gasped when he saw that the demon was gone."Hey! Where did you go? Hello?!" He looked back at the building."Little demon?" He called and quickly searched through the rubble trying to find the creature. So far there was no sign of him anywhere. Boris's ears lowered and he sighed sadly."I didn't even get your name."

Boris returned to the farm and let out the sheep. He counted them. Thirty. The sheep must've found their way back home he thought. He walked up the hill and sat by the tree to watch the sheep wander around and eat grass. He sighed and took out his clarinet. He began to play a soothing tune.

"Heyyy, not bad!" Said a familiar voice. Boris jumped up and looked around."Up here." He looked up and saw the demon sitting on a branch and smiling at him. He jumped down and landed in his arms. He kissed his nose."Did ya miss me?" Boris grinned.

Boris:"You're alive!" He swung him around."I thought you were dead! But you're alive!"

Bendy:"Whoa! Easy there!" He put him down on his feet and he fixed his bow tie."So, ya still mad at me for stealin' your sheep and all?" Boris shook his head.

Boris:"Nope! They're all back."  Bendy smiled.

Bendy:"Really? Huh, I wonder how that happened." He said with a wink. Boris smiled and shook his hand.

Boris:"I'm Boris. Boris the Wolf. I never got to tell ya my name before."

Bendy:"Well Boris, I'm Bendy. Bendy the Demon." He put his hands on his hips."So, I've been dying to ask you something all day. Why'd ya help me? Everyone in town is afraid of me. You know I'm a demon don't ya?" He nodded.

Boris:"Yeah, but you don't seem all that bad. You didn't...well you know, eat anyone or anything like that." Bendy gave him an evil smile.

Bendy:"What makes you think I wouldn't eat you?" He grinned. Boris shrugged.

Boris:"I don't know." He said simply. Bendy frowned. He looked at his clarinet and smiled a little.

Bendy:"Say, Boris, would you mind playing that again?" He held up his clarinet.

Boris:"This? Well, I suppose, but only if you promise to leave the town alone. No more stealing, no more covering people or the town with ink and also, no stealing sheep." Bendy stomped his foot once.

Bendy:"What? Oh come on! It's fun!" Boris crossed his arms."Ugh, fine." Boris smiled and held up his clarinet. He began to play a tune. Bendy tapped one foot and soon began to dance. Boris joined in shortly. The two danced until the sun went down and the moon came up. Boris stopped playing and yawned.

Boris:"It's pretty late. I should bring the sheep inside the barn. Do you need a ride home?" He asked as they walked towards the barn.

Bendy:"Oh....yeah, uh, I don't have a home."

Boris:"You don't?" He opened the barn door and the sheep wandered in.

Bendy:"Nope, just been running all over the place. Don't really need sleep." He shrugged.

Boris:"Hm..."  The last sheep went inside and he closed the door and locked it. The two walked towards Boris's house."Well, if you want, you can stay with me for a little while." Bendy looked at him with wide eyes.

Bendy:"Really? you really mean that?" He asked with almost a hopeful smile. He nodded. Bendy frowned and gave him a look of doubt."And no foolin'?"

Boris:"Of course not. You can stay as long as you need to." He said with a smile. Bendy smiled a little.

Bendy:"Alright then, thanks!" He giggled. They went inside and Boris cooked up dinner for two. They watched T.V. and went to bed. Boris showed Bendy the guest room. The bed was made and looked comfortable."Wow....my own room!" He sat on the bed."Hm...not a waterbed but it's still nice!" He grinned at Boris."You know, for a wolf you sure are pretty friendly." Boris smiled.

Boris:"Heh, awww, thanks. For a demon you sure are friendly too." Bendy rolled his eyes.

Bendy:"Yeah....but I don't see why I need a bed, I don't sleep."

Boris:"That's ok, you can still use if you want." He yawned and itched his back."Well, good night Bendy. I'll see you in the morning." He closed the door. Boris went to get a cup of water from the kitchen. He did he wondered if Bendy needed a cup of water. He walked back into the room."Oh Bendy, did you..." He trailed off when he saw that Bendy had fallen asleep under the blankets in bed. He blinked twice. He slowly smiled ad chuckled."G'night little buddy." He whispered and closed the door quietly before heading off to bed.