#It was one of the best decisions I made for the series.
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inbabylontheywept · 2 days ago
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Babylon and the Duck of Butter
I have a gift for falling in love with random objects. One time, my aunt got me a little rubber chicken, and whenever I squoze it, a little egg thing popped out. Very silly. Except that chicken became something like my best friend. I carried it with me to school, and I kept it with me in my pocket, and whatever social hazards there were about Being The Guy Who Got Stressed Whenever His Rubber Chicken Was Missing were far outweighed by being The Guy Who ALWAYS Had a Rubber Chicken On Him. There's a lot of comedic opportunity that comes with always having a good prop on your person.
Of course, the chicken did eventually. Explode. And such was my grief that I did not eat for 36 hours. This was very stressful for many people. Mostly my mom. I was a very strange child to work with. She took parenting so incredibly seriously, and then I'd pitch her these curve balls like refusing to eat for a day and a half because my rubber chicken died. No parenting book tells you what to do when that happens. You just have to feel it in your heart.
A less tragic story of an object that I fell in love with was a large, foam toad that I found in a trinket shop. The toad was the size of a very large grapefruit. Much too large to carry with me to school (thank god) but enough that I could move it around the house, to keep me company during my solitary pursuits. If I was reading, the toad was there, and if I was tinkering with legos, the toad was there, and even when I slept, I would wrap the toad up in layers and layers of blankets, and then spoon it. I did this until the rubber coating on the foam started to wear out, and the foam started to get brittle and break down and leak this repulsive yellow powder. Then I simply put the toad in the playroom and would consult it on matters of great importance. Eventually I stopped doing that, and someone took the opportunity to dispose of it. Not sure who. By the time I noticed its absence, too much time had passed for me to actually be sad. As an adult, part of me thinks I would have maybe liked burying the toad, but part of me also thinks I might have refused to part with the toad, which would have resulted in it leaking more repulsive yellow powder into the house. So I understand why that decision was made. 
I want to state that this does not happen often, and it does not happen on purpose. I don't choose to fall in love with random objects. And it's always a little bit embarrassing when it happens. 
Which brings me to my wife. 
Before meeting my wife, I did not often go to places with crowds. I didn't really think of it as avoiding them - those places just didn't seem fun to me. But she liked those places, and I really liked her, and being with someone who really likes something can kind of sell you on liking it too, so I'd take her to places and watch her Visibly Enjoy the Fair and go: Alright. The fair is pretty sweet.  
Which is a thing that happened. After fourish months of dating, I took her to the fair. And she fell very visibly in love with a large series of quilts, and she stayed near them for a while, which she thought was very embarrassing, and I got to pretend to be understanding as an outsider, because I thought it would be much more impressive than also being the type of person that would fall in love with a quilt. 
Do not do this. The gods punishment for my hubris was that the room next to the quilts was full of butter sculptures, which was an entirely new thing to me, and I immediately fell embarrassingly in love with all of them. It was like the biggest, sappiest non-sexual crush you've ever had, but not only did the other person not recipropcate, they could not, because they were made of butter. I actually got yelled at for pressing my face against the glass, which is fair, but also, I hadn't realized I was pressing my face on the glass, I just started leaning forward because after approximately 30 minutes of staring wistfully at a cow made of butter my legs got tired. And I think I should be given some grace for that.
Anyway. My wife was very patient with me taking more time to look at the butter sculptures than the average person might spent at the Louvre, and she also felt much less embarrassed over falling in love with a quilt, and we had a good laugh about it on the ferris wheel. 
A few weeks after that was my birthday. And I don't know what I expected, exactly - but I did not expect what she did. 
Dear reader, she made me a butter sculpture. Of a duck.
She picked a duck, because our first kiss was at a Japanese friendship garden. It was our second date, and she'd made up her mind not to do any kissing until the third date, but as we sat on the grass, a duck walked past me, and I'd just seen the hold-duck-gentle-like-hamgurber meme,
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so I sort of impulsively reached out and snatched it. I honestly didn't think it would work. I don't know who was more flabbergasted, me or the duck. But we looked at each other, and then I looked at her, and then she looked at the duck, and she looked so incredibly envious that I assumed that must have wanted the duck so I just handed it to her.
It turned out she was actually envious of the ability to just grab a duck as it walked by, but she accepted the duck and stroked it a few times before releasing it. (She also made up her mind to kiss me in that moment, which was very nice.)  
Anyway.
She made me a butter duck of my own. Obviously, I fell in love with it immediately. I cleared out all of the freezer-portion of my mini fridge, and I put the duck in there, and for the next several months, when I felt sad, or lonely, I would open the door up and spent some quality time. Just me and my duck.
But this is, of course, not the end of the story. 
Because.
After several months. 
The mini fridge died. 
I really didn't use it that often. It was mostly my duck storage container. But one day, I walked by it, and it struck me that it wasn't humming. So I opened the door, and it was just. Far, far too late. The duck was dead. Dead dead. Turned into a foul-smelling slime dead. 
I cried. I did. After the rubber chicken thing, I thought I had changed, but I had not changed, and the unexpected death of my butter buddy left me pretty shook. I texted my then-girlfriend now-wife about how sad I was, and she actually came over to help me say goodbye. We didn't even bother scraping the duck out of the mini-fridge, we just said our goodbyes to both and threw them together in the nice dumpster behind the chapel, because it seemed appropriate to put it in God's dumpster. And it did actually help quite a bit. I certainly did not go 36 hours without eating again. 
And that was, for some time, the end of the butter duck. 
However. Three (or four?) years ago, for my birthday, my wife was looking around thrift stores. And she found something interesting. 
The original butter duck had an odd pose. She'd sculpted it laying flat, intending to raise it up later. But the butter was less flexible than she thought, and she was afraid of cracking it so she left it down which left the duck with a very elongated, very in-motion appearance. And she found a brass statue of a duck in the same, running posture.
It wasn't the original. But it was oddly on the nose. It was a yellow brass, it had the same strange posture, the same crude little face feathers. 
I think it was $3, but it remains perhaps the most thoughtful gift I have ever received. I got very choked up when I unwrapped Butter Duck, The UnDying. 
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Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?
Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader
POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben POV
Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.
Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover
Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)
Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes
Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person
A/N: It's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Dean POV
Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.
Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.
And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.
Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.
When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.
Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.
Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.
Not some asshole from another universe.
The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.
He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.
The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.
Fuck.
His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.
Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.
It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.
Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.
He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.
He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.
Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.
He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.
He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.
That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.
Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.
The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.
Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.
It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.
However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.
But then Ben had shown up.
When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.
But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.
Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.
All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.
Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.
The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"
Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?
Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.
Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.
"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.
Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.
Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"
"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white.  He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."
Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.
"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.
"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.
"I'm kinda what?"
"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"
Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because she hasn't made up her mind."
"But why?"
"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"
Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"
"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.
He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.
"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.
"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"
At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."
"I think it does."
"What does that mean?"
"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."
"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.
"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."
But I do want her.
The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.
"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.
Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"
"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.
Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."
"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.
"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.
"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.
Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"
"Just leave me alone Sammy."
And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.
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Reader POV
Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.
It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.
You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.
It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.
I have nothing to be guilty about.
You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.
Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.
Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-
You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.
You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.
In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.
No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-
The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.
Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.
But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.
Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.
You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.
Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.
Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.
Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.
Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.
Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.
You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.
At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.
Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.
Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?
The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.
It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.
You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.
You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.
But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.
You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.
Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.
Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.
You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.
Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.
You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.
The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.
What the hell is wrong with me?
When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.
But what?
He turns when he hears you walk in.
You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.
"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.
"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.
"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"
"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."
You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.
Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-
"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.
"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.
"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"
"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."
Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?
The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.
You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."
You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.
Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"
"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.
Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.
"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."
"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."
Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"
You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.
But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.
Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-
"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"
"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"
"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.
"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"
"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."
Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.
An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.
The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.
If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?
You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.
Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!
You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.
"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe." 
Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"
"No I-"
"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.
"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.
"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.
Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!
"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.
"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."
"But-"
"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"
His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.
Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?
"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.
You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.
"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.
"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?
Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”
"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”
You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.
“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”
Is he out of his MIND?!
"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.
"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together
"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"
You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.
"This is different!" He fumes.
"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"
Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?
You didn't think that you did.
Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.
"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight.  "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"
You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."
"I compliment you." He huffs back.
"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"
Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."
"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."
"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."
"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"
"That's not what I-"
"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.
His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”
His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.
You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.
“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”
Why is it a big deal?
“It just is!"
"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.
"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”
“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.
Who does he think he is? We're not together.
“That’s not what this is about-“
“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”
"It is my business!"
"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"
"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.
A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.
"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”
“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”
“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"
“I’m not trying to!”
“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"
The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.
Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.
Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?
Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.
But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.
"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.
"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.
"Thought what?"
"That you wanted me to-"
"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.
"Well-"
"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."
Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"
"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."
"That's not what I'm doing!"
"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.
Dean pauses. "What?"
"Why after years of you hating me-"
"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.
"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.
It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.
"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"
"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"
"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"
You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.
Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?
"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.
Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.
Holy shit.
"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."
The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.
The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.
You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.
He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.
"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.
"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.
The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-
Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.
“What are you-“
“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.
His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.
You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.
You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.
But he didn't, he never did.  And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.
Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.
Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.
"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"
Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."
"Then why?"
He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."
"I'm okay."
"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"
"This?"
"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.
"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.
"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."
You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"
There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.
"No.”
“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”
“No. But-"
 You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."
Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"
"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"
His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."
Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.
"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.
You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."
"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.
"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.
"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.
Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.
Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.
"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.
"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone.  "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."
"But-" You try to say again.
Oh this is so awkward.
"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."
Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.
Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.
Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."
The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.
"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does.  It only makes Ben smirk wider.
Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.
"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."
"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."
"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."
Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."
"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.
The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.
The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.
But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.
Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."
Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.
Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."
"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”
Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.
And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.
"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.
Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"
"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.
"Just something come on-"
"But why-"
"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.
Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"
Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.
You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"
"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.
"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."
"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.
Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.
"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.
"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.
"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.
Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"
He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.
"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."
Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."
"Anything that I can do to convince you?"
"I can think of a few things…"
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Ben/Soldier Boy POV
"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.
It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.
He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.
Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.
He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.
Fuck.
He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.
And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.
But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.
Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email
When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.
I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!
Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.
And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.
Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.
Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.
Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.
"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.
The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.
Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.
It wouldn't be the first time.
"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.
"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.
"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."
"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.
He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.
The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.
"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.
Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.
"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.
Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.
"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.
"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.
Because the person standing next to his desk was you.
This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."
But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.
The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.
He thought it was cute.
As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.
It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.
"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"
"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.
"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."
Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."
You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.
Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.
"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"
"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.
Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.
Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.
"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."
"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.
He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.
"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.
"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.
It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.
"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."
He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.
"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.
And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.
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A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗
Reveal of the Poll:
🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.
💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.
Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣
Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!
Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:
@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies
@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg
@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy
@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78
@mochminnie @peachhiz
@impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah @lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed
@justwhisperingfantasies @lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99
@chriszgirl92
@toxicfataldestiny @im-bili @anniebannanie0315 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @schinug
@shara-ne @gaida-511 @xxmusic13luverxx @bakugotypecrashout @n-o-p-e-never
@thoughtfullyfurryangel @youroldfashioned
@marvelgeeka @myceliumsunshine @hobby27
@funkenniffler
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rei-ismyname · 2 days ago
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Star Trek/X-Men highlights
Long ago, Marvel had the licence for Star Trek comics. A decision was made to smoosh the X-Men and the TOS Enterprise crew together in a baffling and messy adventure. I couldn't find any better quality scans, but here's the highlights.
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The Star Trek crew are going about their business when a giant bootlicker appears before the Enterprise. Gladiator in Trek is like a double dose of space bullshit. He punches the ship, lol.
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Turns out the X-Men have appeared on the Enterprise, though it's not explained. It doesn't really matter tbh. Logan Behavior in spaaace!
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We learn that they're after Deathbird, who would fit right in on Star Trek. Huge Romulan vibes.
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The X-Men are unnoticed for now (bc TOS era security and sensors suck.) Somehow Jean Grey and Spock form a telepathic thingy, despite Vulcans only having touch telepathy. The jig is up!
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Gambit is injured, so Storm and Beast try to get him medical help in sickbay. They run into Bones and Nurse Chapel, then Beast and Bones both respond to 'Doctor McCoy.' It's funny because they have the same last name.
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Logan, surprisingly, doesn't try to murder Spock. He does attack him though only to get knocked out by a Vulcan nerve pinch. Spock thinks he's fascinating. Logan is lucky he didn't land on Deep Space 9, that's for sure.
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After getting the superhero hello out of the way, the two teams meet each other and form a tentative alliance. Deathbird is out there and must be stopped!
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Surprise! She's not alone. Somehow Proteus is here and he's possessed Gary 7 (a superhuman secret agent type of dude.) Not sure who those other losers are. Anyway, I'm pretty sure they're banging. Obviously they also have a scheme of some kind too.
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Their scheme looks a lot like a superhero fight. Kirk asks Jean if she can reach Proteus' host telepathically. She can and they have a good yarn.
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Gary tells them what's up and the two crews solve the problem with extreme prejudice. They really kill the fuck out of Proteus, though not using metal, something he's notoriously weak to. Beam spam ftw. Logan shouts and achieve very little. . After this they say their farewells and the X-Men ask Deathbird to come with them. She's kinda bored now so she says yes. Gladiator just stands around and does what he's told.
I'm very familiar with both franchises and I think it sucks. I can't imagine what someone who's only into one of them would think. Instead of taking the best of each series it takes the worst and crams it into 20 pages. Worth it for the camp and Logan getting knocked out though.
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chokiechips · 23 hours ago
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Yandere Head Canons: Wally Darling
For some reason, yandere and obsessive Wally (ahhh pookie <3) seems so obvious, and i can't help but see it! It's so in his nature. Hope you enjoy!
Themes: yandere a smidge, lil fluff, delusional yandere, obsessive traits
I would think when he first meets you, it would probably be much later after the first episode of the Welcome to the Neighborhood series is aired.
He would probably know you as one of the new characters there, just a simple minded little person who has no clue what's going on behind the scenes and is just happy to be there.
He would be pretty alright with you at first like the other neighbors, maybe joining the other neighbors in their day-to-day activities, picking up mail at the post office, or having fun with Frank and Julie.
You start to notice him more often, and of course, being a great neighbor, you JUST have to get to know him. oh if only you knew how bad a decision this must be.
You feel excited at first, standing in front of the front door of Home, an apple pie in your hand, just to make peace with your neighbor and make a possible friend! Just in case, you talked with Julie and Frank and got his likes and dislikes, afraid of not wanting to upset this person you haven't talked to yet.
After a few light raps to the front door of Home, you'd wait there patiently, hoping that Wally Darling is in. Immediately he opened the door, and lo and behold, it's Wally!
He lets you in, and can't help but notice the delicious fragrance of apple wafting from your hands into his nostrils. An apple pie? How absolutely lovely of you!
After several hours of talking and conversing about the Neigborhood itself, and the puppets that live here, you can notice how Wally slowly lets himself get comfortable with you, allowing you to switch with him to sit on his iconic yellow chair.
But oh, the way you sat propped up happily in it, your thighs crossed just right , your bright smiling eyes looking up at him, Wally can't help but think you're just made for this. Nothing bizarre of course, maybe Julie or Barnaby could fare just as well, but there's something just so special about you, he can't seem to put his finger on it!
Over the coming days, the rest of the neighbors grow suspicious of the lengthy hours you'd spend at Home, the way Wally would casually let you sit next to him at his front yard and paint Home with him. His brush sitting primly in your hand as you make an attempt at painting Home, creating some sort of mess. But Wally can't help but find it endearing. Look how Home responds to your painting, to your splash of colors! Home may be a little friendly, but Wally can't help but feel his heart feel gooey and warm at the way Home interacts with you. Would you like to live in Home with him? Home would love that!
Soon, Wally and you become practically inseperable, best friends even! Wherever you go, he's always sure to follow. The way his eyes dilate at the sight of you, the paintings of you he'd paint without fail, the little accidents you'd cause (definitely not by Home) that Wally would come to help fix, a large smile on his face. Of course he would help! You're his darling neighbor! or maybe the future Darling?
On a particular night, Wally and you chat over the episode that occured that day, smiling ear to ear about the silly things that happened, and the lessons learned that day. As you talk, you don't seem to notice the way Wally would lean onto every word you said, the way Home would ensure nothing, no furniture made a single noise, as you spoke.
Your word was key.
Friendliest neighbor he may be to everyone, but to you he would be more than friendly. He would do anything for you.
Until the name Howdy Pillar slipped from your mouth as you spoke.
Wally hands trembled at the thought of it, a smile plastered on his face as the thought echoed through his mind, your rambles continuing to echo throughout the living room.
A strand or two fell from his hairdo, eyes widening at the thought.
Howdy? Why him? You, Wally and Home were practically soulmates at this point!
Maybe it was time for some proving. Of how friendly Wally Darling truly could be.
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ominous-faechild · 6 months ago
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The simultaneous hilarity and tragedy of looking at a character whose arcs all center around "I feel so lonely and isolated and just wish I had someone to lean on" and deciding to ship them with the character I've been planning to kill from the beginning.
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fowlaroundtown · 1 year ago
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Hi Have I ever mentioned IDW’s Donnie might be one of my favorite iterations of the character ever
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bsotted · 2 months ago
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ok well. unfortunate news: sometimes ur niche is so niche u've already niched the niche. this is exactly the same as the feeling of hitting the end of ur ship tag in ao3 🥲
*edit: sorry i accidentally named like every character ever in the tags so ppl are Seeing this post who dont have the benefit of so much as a single crumb of context. if i accidentally namedropped ur blorbo its bc of this post:
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anyway. i was excited for recs bc i also enjoy this genre of fictional character. unfortunately as above the niche is niched, it turns out. at least for me, content enjoyer georg, who has apparently already seen or read everything anyone else has already seen or read except for a small handful of specific media properties that i do not wish to see or read for various personal reasons and also not literally everything ever... just the same things as everyone else has already seen and read... u get the idea. ok thnks 👍🏻
#*slowly morosely untucks the bib and folds it up again#smh#idk if that post breached containment in the wrong direction or what but there were like 3ppl apiece talking about good actual examples#and those were like 99% media i already reaaaadddd im tearjngn my hair out#but far and away most ppl flat out missed the brief#like ​i think out of almost four thousand tags about four tagged ghost. four tagged geralt. three andrew minyard. etc#sobbung im sad for me AND for yall like this is ur jam and the best u can put up for example is dean winchester????#listen i know im on the supernatural site. voluntarily. but ur really gonna tell me thats the best u can do 😭😭#like a solid handful said bucky barnes. good solid classic example i'll give it to u but its 2024 😭😭😭😭😭😭#all respect to the ppl tagging ocs tho y'all are real 🫡 bc its looking like if we want it we do gotta get in the trenches and write it 😔✊#anywya i came away with approximately one and a half recs and then 3-4 repeated vouchers for media i know i am just never gonna consume rip#and the rest of yall.. have some kinda different media literacy situation going on we went thru v different english programs i fear#😔😔#angie.txt#like i believe the boba fett girlies are right and on to something but i am simply not going down the mouse route on my own dime#so those recs are. moot#not a single trigun mention i dont think.. not vash or nick or i wouldve even given a pass to a shoutout for knives#some of u said kaz and i havent read the books but even just based on the tv series p sure i can respect that.#one i have to look into asap is whoever evan kelmp(?) is- whatever hes from im not familiar and seems promising.#izzy hands im so sorry. im fundamentally incapable of watching ofmd unfortunately i watched black sails first#wasnt aware it was going to ruin other pirate related media for me when i made that decision 😭😭#i respect the arcane shoutouts but i do think it's hilarious that no two of u called out the same character.#murderbot obviously#i just think some of yall are so close yet so far and i want better for us all so goddamn badlyyy#update: i checked and op seems to have been generalizing off of boba fett/wolverine/magneto etc and yeah that tracks#smbdy said john wick - more than one actually- and while i hear u i also invite u to consider:#that man's singular desire is literally to go back into retirement in peace all he wanted was a quiet night in a rocking chair w that dog..#i dont think id go so far as to say he wouldnt know what to do with a warm bed if he got it. or attach himself to sbdy attack dog style atp#ykwim#somebody said patrick bateman.. yall are just listing names atp. darth vader? kylo? all right pack it up folks
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doortotomorrow · 2 years ago
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JENNA COLEMAN EDITS - Johanna Constantine
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lavenderjewels · 5 months ago
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jjk 267 leaks + spoilers in the tags. ill be completely honest i understand the jjk criticism I’ve seen for this chapter but i also don’t care
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WAIT YOU LIKE FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST I DIDNT KNOW RHAT 😭
I LOVE FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST YOU HAVE NO IDEA
my children:
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the love of my life
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niadotcom · 1 year ago
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im re reasing all te h pjo books hoo and toa too im in teh middle of the lost hero and i read these books years ago ok i forgot half the things i didnt know quintus was daedulas or that they met haphaestus in teh book or that tyson and grover went on their own little quest together adn its slowly coming back and i just rmemebered. zeus had two kids with teh same woman in his greek and roman forms. i. i also haven't read son of neptune when i was reading the series for teh first time i decided to skip it because tower of nero was supposed to come out pretty soon and i had to coemplere hoo + toa in time to get to read tower of nero as it was released and i ended up finishing 3 hoo books and 4 toa ones before the release date anyway. in like. a month i inhaled those books and i am now i had gforgotten how much i liked them yes i'll admit it isnt the best tsorytelling but it gives me nostaligia the goo dkind and im just so. overwhelmed i lvoe these books if not for the storytelling for being the only thign getting me through being 11-14 i rememnr i used to curl up adn read them all day and then i wen tot pinrteret adn thus wwent on to become a pinterest tumblrina and then acn actual tumblrina wow
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jaxflipped · 7 months ago
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hi guys I'm like maybe 35% awake rn/???? I love jax did you guys know that
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xilamoc · 2 years ago
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In an alternate time, S3 still has Emma on the show and Cleo still gets the same character arc of maturing and becoming more responsible, something that Emma initially approves of (while Rikki sarcasticly makes jokes out of the fact that Cleo is no longer her "Sloth buddy" and is now a "Study bee" like Emma of course), however, over time as Cleo's grades improve and it becomes easier for her to grasp concepts, Emma starts feeling Jealous and threathened by Cleo, and starts studying obsessively in order to ensure she is number one, her jeaulosy reaches a breaking point when Cleo gets better grades than her at a SCIENCE- related subject (subject that cleo historically was always bad at) at which point she does active recall (flashcards) obsessively thinking that way she will be able to "win" Cleo, whilst Cleo has developed better study methods by using more than one in order to learn better (i'm aware this doesn't happen in S3 and Cleo is still sloppy at study methods but we need Emma to be interesting ok?), Emma's jeaulosy makes her eventually despise Cleo as she views her as everything she wants to be and is not, causing her (and not Rikki) to keep the Water tentacle encounter in S3E16 a secret.
Emma's (and Cleo's) arc reaches full circle in S3E26, as Cleo receives her dux in science, Emma is visibly upset but tries to hide her discomfort as the trials and tribulations of S3 made her realize she can't always be number 1.
(Rikki can be the person that shows Emma how to be comfortable not being numer 1 i guess, she was always the more laid-back person of the bunch)
TL; DR:
Emma:
Want: To be perfect, number 1 at everything in life using the same study methods that have historically worked for her.
Need: To understand that she won't always be number 1 in life, and that she needs to step out of her comfort zone if she wants to be better in life.
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entitydark · 2 years ago
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I FINALLY FINISHED PoP AND ITS SO GOOOOD!!!
I WAS CRYYYYYIIIINNNNGGGGG!!! 😭😭😭😭😭🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩😆😆😆😆🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯👍👍👍👍👍👍👍
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BEST BOOK EVER!!! 💕💕💕❤️❤️❤️❤️💜💜💜💜❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💖💖💖💘💘💘💗💗💗💞💞💞💜🤍🩶🖤🩷🩷🩷❤️❤️❤️🧡🧡🧡🧡💛💛💛💚💚💚🩵🩵🩵💙💙💙💜💜💜🤎🤎🖤🖤🖤🩶🩶🩶🤍🤍🤍🤍💖💖💝💝💝💝💓💓💗💗💗💗💞💞💞💞💕💕💕💕♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️
@jelloapocalypse thank you for making this. The end had me sobbing along with Molly. I can’t wait for whatever else you have planned for this series but I will do so happily for even the speck of a chance to see more.
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mortellanarts · 2 years ago
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I hadn't read the ztd prologue in a while but I'm midway through writing my fic that could benefit from that knowledge so I finally got around to it with some of my friends and I firstly did not recall Sigma losing his cool that quickly but also the only canonical interaction this Sigma has with this Akane being "Swear future you will not lie to past me about how the end of the world goes down" and her essentially lying about not lying is so good and Phi being just as mad at him as Akane but otherwise staying off to the side oough the dynamics at play there
#because! I was fact checking on the wiki and it indicated that they were simply inconsistent with this information#as in she never gives the details away despite her own memories having left D-COM intact#but I did already think she probably just decided to lie by omission about the decision game#but this really did make it feel like that was the intention all along!#so yeah I'm glad about figuring that out logistically speaking it was bothering me while writing to not be sure#she was about to cry from how Sigma was talking to her too... that one fanart I made of her with big weepy eyes.......#stop bullying the criminal mastermind she was born in a wet cardboard box all alone#it works for the angle I'm coming from writing her though that she's feeling the pressure of not knowing everything™#and suddenly having to prevent a whole apocalypse after she just started to have a life again™#Sigma this girl is the best liar of the series do you really expect her to not take the chance if she has to like it isn't second nature#underrated dynamic they're the worst coworkers and no one actually respects one another#they're so funny to me they're sooo at odds while working towards the same goal but no one really got a choice to#and in the end the real time loop was the friends we made along the way and the world really only ended because she got them to prevent it#''oh but there's also the fanatic-'' shhh....#zero escape#ztd#zero escape spoilers#vlr spoilers#sigma klim#akane kurashiki#not art#writing
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sitizelter · 2 months ago
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ughhfh one piece is invading my life ugdhhhd
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