#The first one definitely is! The second set is from a scratch comic but I thought this was the best part so far | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nep2unes · 3 years ago

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𝐅𝐓. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘.

inspired by @neptunes-sol-angel mini reading for me.

✩ channeled signs for all piles: mood swings, 444, beauty blender, clear quartz, conspiracy theories, deep blue sea, that’s so raven, green, turquoise, pbs kids, fire sign energy, balance, evil eye jewelry, pink velvet tracksuit (juicy couture?), y2k aesthetic, 999, 36, green eggs and ham, red rover, bob the builder, projector, ariana grande perfume, yellow, circus, needng to go to the dispensary, beans, starting to eat cleaner, cat scratches, crows, flickering lights, 16 floors, migraines, ibuprofen, nail-biting, rebecca?, smart watch, reading glasses, air ballons, drums, california, north and south carolina, great white sharks, day n nite - kid cudi, journaling, scheduling, dragons, kundalini energy

✩ you ready? take a deep breath and don’t overthink it. go ahead a choose the picture you’re most drawn to. the first pic your eyes laid on is usually your answer. it’s ok to be drawn to more than one pile too! enjoy! x

PILES 1-3 FROM TOP TO BOTTOM

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄:

your adaptability. you are the type of person that can be friends with ANYONE. you’re a natural conversationalist and i think this stumps your haters and makes them so envious of you because they’re extremely insecure in their own social skills. i’m getting strong water sign energy for this pile (pisces placements especially!) you give me like chameleon energy. you can read the energy in the room and just know how to morph yourself in a way that doesn’t inhibit your own energy. you can make yourself comfortable enough in social settings but you still stand out somehow. you influence the room rather than absorbing it and i think this is the main reason why you stand out. you’re VERY charismatic and magnetic; if you don’t think so then i’m fucking confirming it tf!

you may even be a little anxious sometimes before social events but when it comes down to it, you end up doing the damn thing! i’m getting that you doubt and second-guess yourself a lot and i don’t even understand why because you’re the main character. you’re not the side character, or the comic relief friend, nah bro you’re just naturally supposed to be in the limelight. your energy is captivating, playful, and it makes these mfers SICKKKK! i feel like your haters have friends that like you and they just be sitting there like “why the fuck does everyone like them? what’s so special about them?” PERIOD! you make these bitches question themselves fr.

a good chunk of the people that hate on you have deep-rooted insecurities and i feel like they could almost get obsessed with you in a way (perhaps they may spy on your socials and compare themselves to you for hours, it’s weird shit.) they also hide their envy well and may try to befriend you to get your “secrets” but baby there’s no secrets. you can’t be copied. your haters also hate how they can never catch you lacking like you just have this way of presenting yourself in public that is so appealing. keep doing what you doing bae cause you must doing something right! powerful amount of star quality!

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍��𝐋𝐄𝐃: only girl (in the world) - rihanna

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎:

your creativity. the three of wands popped out THREE different times. so you definitely have this boldness to you that exudes in the public eye. you do whatever the fuck you want and you walk with conviction, no matter who is staring or watching. you are not afraid to style, talk, or walk YOUR WAY. heavy aquarius energy and fire sign energy is present in this pile. this pile is giving fashionista. your style is really what stands out to others, i genuinely feel like you don’t give a fuck about trends or what is “in”. you may be a heavy thrifter as well. i’m also seeing makeup; you could be extremely good at doing eccentric designs (euphoria type beat) and bright colors. the gag is this is everyday you. like you don’t mind doing a crazy eyeshadow look and “overdressing” on a random tuesday. this group is really giving me rico nasty energy (you may already fuck with her music and if not, take a listen you might end up liking it!).

you just have this knack for aesthetics and what looks good on YOU (i do feel like this pile does have the potential for a career path in creative directing and styling). so essentially, THIS is what boils your haters’ blood cause they are so in awe of how the fuck you look good every single time and rock the most outrageous shit. these people tend to nitpick the littlest of things because they themselves are followers not actual leaders. your haters can’t even come close to you though like they can try to copy but what i don’t think they don’t understand is that it’s not about how you style yourself but rather the comfortability you had to gain within being embarrassed. i don’t think it was always easy for you to step out in the world as yourself.

i’m sensing this pile suffered some bullying and harassment from others for being themselves. y’all stuck out like a sore thumb. you were an easy target because fo this. so you pretended for so long to not give a fuck what they said and be confident that eventually you truly didn’t give a fuck. instead of conforming to others, to spite them even more, you styled yourself in incredibly spunky ways. it’s funny cause i’m getting a “i did it first!” vibe. all the trends circulating in the media now, you may have done them way back when and got made fun of. all your haters are now trying to keep up with the new shit when you really been the mfer to do it. i’m hearing a nicki lyric (ofc lol): “i put these bitches on game, they should be kissing my feet!” this group’s haters are the true pick- me’s of this world bro. they’re such followers and you’re THEE trendsetter! they get inspired from you and so mad they didn’t think of it first. it’s effortless on your part and they can’t figure out how to do the same! a natural creative, these mfers really can’t tell you nothing.

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃: poppin’ - rico nasty

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄:

your resilience. this pile’s energy is giving a phoenix rising from the ashes. scorpio energy very much present (water sign energy in general). y’all have been through hell and back and somehow, someway you remain unscathed; from an outside perspective. your journey has never been easy but you’ve made it look easy and this shakes your haters to the core because nothing can knock you down. i have a feeling that people actively try your ass hard to get you to that breaking point but it simply doesn’t work. a good chunk of people in this group are my divine feminines to be honest cause i’m sensing high intuitive abilities. you had so many lessons you had to go through to realize that the peace lies within you and is not in reach within the outside world or others. your ability to remain calm in even the chaotic of situations is remarkable. such great problem-solvers and intellectual ass mofos. this is VERY impressive energy and let me just say, others can just FEEL this energy without you having to say anything.

i sense your haters are extremely intimidated by y’all because y’all keep your shit together. even if you’re a fucking mess, i think you make sure to not show others that because you know that it can be a weakness that others can pinpoint and poke at. your haters may disguise themselves as your friends because this is the only way to get you to open up. you may have had a lot of backstabbers in past connections. FYI: this wasn’t your fault. they were just extremely jealous of the way you approached life and from their perspective it seemed that things would fall into your lap. you may have been the “advice friend” so always trying to guide your friends towards the right direction and offering your wisdom, but they saw this as you thinking you’re the shit. clearly, they didn’t know HALF of what you had to go through to get to that abundant sort of mindset. i’m frustrated for this group in particular because it just seems like people purposely try to misunderstand y’all to get under your skin. BUT YOUR ENERGY THOOO >>>>. you’re such an unbothered human, you dead ass don’t give a fuck. you just continue because you understand that no one can invalidate your experiences but yourself. so you seek out peace and usually your quick to cut mfers off like it ain’t nothing.

queen of cups and the star popped out, you’re special man. you have learned from your lessons and past mistakes and that’s why you’re so naturally “lucky” or abundant because spirit was like “we see you.” i keep hearing “chosen one” so you may be the one in your ancestral line to be breaking generational curses (that shit ain’t easy, pat yourself on your back because you’ve either done it already or are on the track to doing it! you’re THAT one fr). the true essence of an alchemist because you have mastered the ability to make something out of nothing and that takes a lot of strength, courage, and bravery. you also have great determination and work ethic. such a good head on your shoulders, you really just be minding your business and powering through life no matter how hard it gets. i know sometimes it feels like a lot on your shoulders, just know that breaking down is normal. you need to release that and that’s ok. i really don’t even want to talk about your haters cause i feel like sometimes this weighs heavy on you but spirit wants me to tell you that you’re getting your due diligence soon. the right souls are on their way to your right now! stay ready, this will bring a lot of happiness!

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃: january 28th - j cole

#pac.#pick a card #free tarot #tarot #tarot readings #psychic readings #pick a pile tarot #pick a picture tarot #pick a pile #psychic medium #pac tarot #tarot community #pick a card tarot

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spiderrrling · 2 years ago

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Eddie Munson Bookworm Headcanon

Summary - Just a headcanon about my new favorite bookworm Eddie Munson and his books

A/N - Yes he is a bookworm I refuse to accept anything else

Masterlist - Taglist - Requests are open

Eddie Munson is a massive bookworm, you cannot change my mind about this

You do not play dungeons and dragons and quote lord of the rings if you aren't a massive book nerd

Especially when he was younger Eddie would get most of his books second hand, as books are quite expensive

And also, he is not one to care about the condition of a book as long as it is readable

"Books are meant to be enjoyed and read! So why does it matter what it looks like?"

That is his philosophy about it

His books go through some proper wear and tear, as well as their fair share of abuse

Eddie does not own a single bookmark, anything and everything is a bookmark in his opinion

Random pieces of paper, receipts, a necklace, leaves, a ruler, random piece of string? Bookmark

The man also dog ears his books with absolutely no sense of conscience about it

If he cannot find something to work as a makeshift bookmark, he will just fold over that page

He also cracks the spines of his books; it does not matter to him what the condition of his books are in

A couple of them most definitely have some water damage to them

And covers are ripped, scratched, torn

While Eddie has a bookshelf, it is tiny and only holds a couple

The rest of his books are stacked on the floor in various piles

He doesn't own a ton of books, but he is very proud of the collection he does have

Eddie does not own collectors’ editions of books, they are too expensive and do not serve a greater purpose than the original

Because he got so many of his first books second hand through thrift stores or garage sales, he has read a lot of very different books

But he does have his favourite genera that he will always gravitate towards

Mainly being fantasy, science fiction and classical horrors or thrillers

An obvious is The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings

The Hobbit was absolutely the first book that made Eddie totally fall in love with fantasy as a genera and concept

Which of course was followed up by The Lord of the Rings

And even the Silmarillion

Eddie is a massive Tolkien fan

He has begrudgingly read all the books mandated by his high school English classes, and while he would never admit it out loud, he loved reading Jane Austen

Particularly he really enjoyed Pride and Prejudice, it has enough drama and flair while being well written enough that Eddie found it to be a good read

He had read at least the first five Dune books

When he was younger, he absolutely adored all of the Sherlock Holmes books and the mystery genera has a very special place in his heart because of it

When he was in his mystery book phase, he absolutely read his fair share of Agatha Christie books

He really enjoys a big fantastical and well thought out world that he can simply just lose himself to for hours

Something he can draw inspiration from for campaigns or for his own personal writing

Because Eddie Munson is absolutely an aspiring writer, he already has a lot of practice writing songs

And there are countless overstuffed notebooks filled to the absolute brim with notes of fantasy worlds and random sketches strewn about his room

He isn't picky when it comes to fantasy, anything to tidy him over for a couple of hours

Eddie does prefer the vaster high fantasy settings, but also greatly enjoys comic fantasy and he has a stack of Discworld books gathering in his room

However, Eddie can also appreciate the more classic literature books such as the Bronte sisters

But also, the classical nerdy books, Dracula, Frankenstein, Carmilla

His type of comedy books is quite specific, but he did absolutely love The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy

Eddie owns a library card, it is always in his wallet and it has been used a lot throughout the years

The problem is that he just forgets to return his books

And he enjoys being able to scribble in the margins of his books

Or highlight his favourite passages

In conclusion, Eddie Munson is a bookworm and I love him <3

Taglist - @pastel-abyss-x @fayetheenthusiastast @obi-wanakenobi @starbemo @chloebeansack @a-villain-vying-for-attention @meganjm @prettytoxix @magicalxdaydream @ghoulsandgraveyards @munchabunch @kaydencegilr0y @eateraa @satorix @xbreezymeadowsxsx @hunnybunimdundun @eddiemunsfuturewife

Mutuals - @uglypastels @catastrofhe

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write-orflight · 4 years ago

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Settle Down: Chapter 2

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: SpencerXReader (kinda enemies to lovers)

Rating: M

Words: 2K

Warnings: SMUT!! (fingering, sexual content, small breeding kink i guess), cursing. things of that nature

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Y/N and Spencer don’t get along but turn to each other for the one thing you need someone else for… A baby. You can plantonically start a family, right?

AN: Unedited. This chapter has smut, not intense smut but it is to further the plot. comment on this chapter or message for taglist. much love Cia!

Chapter 2: Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?

You never want to thank serial killers for anything but you were slightly grateful that they decided to chill for a week. You and Spencer didn’t really want to have to put this off another month and you very well couldn’t go to Hotch like “you mind if Spencer sits this case out so he can knock me up?”

You decided that you wouldn’t tell the team what you guys were doing until you were at least 4 months pregnant, which getting Garcia to keep it a secret was proving to be its own task. You thankfully had been able to intercept her before she could tell Derek.

Spencer was over every night after work now, cuddling you on your couch watching a new Disney movie. For a man who seemed to know everything, his classic children movie knowledge was lacking. Right now, you guys were watching Ratatouille. He was sitting on the couch and you were on the floor beneath him between his legs, his hand aimlessly raking through your hair. You were on the verge of purring like a cat. You had forgotten how it felt to be comfortable around someone.

“I don’t understand. If this movie is supposed to be about a rodent in a gourmet restaurant. Why is he making a peasant dish?”

“It’s called Ratatouille. Why do you think?” You say, looking up at him. “It’s a pun.”

He smiles down at you. “Well, it’s a play on words. Not a pun.”

“Whatever, nerd.” You go to turn your attention back to the screen but his hand slides from your scalp to around your chin, forcing your head to stay up.

“Tomorrow’s the day, you know.” Spencer says.

“Trust me, I know.” You say.

“Are you…. nervous?” He asks, eyes kind of shifting.

“You don't make me nervous, Spencer.” You say, turning so you can look at him fully. “But something tells me you are. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s just…. Idontwantittobebadforyou.” He rushes out.

You look confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying to you. “Oh, Spencer you don’t have to worry about that.” You say, tapping him on the leg. “After all, you are kinda the only one it needs to be good for.”

“Actually some studies have been showing that women are more likely to become pregnant if they also achieve orgasm.”

“Now that’s something I didn’t know.”

“I just… it just feels selfish. You’re not getting anything out of it.”

“But I am getting something out of it, Spence. The best thing, our kid.” You laugh. “That’s what we’re doing this for, right?”

He hesitates slightly. “Y-Yea, it is. Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Caring if I orgasm already puts you above like 90% of the guys I’ve fucked.” You shrug. “Now, shut up. I’m trying to watch Remy.” You say, turning your attention but to the kitchen antics on the screen before you.

———————————————

You had been antsy all day. Penelope tried to pry out of you what was making you so jittery but you never told her. As far as Penny was concerned, you and Spencer were going through the clinic. She didn’t need to know the details of how you were getting pregnant.

After work, you and Spencer piled into your car and drove to your house. Once inside, Spencer waited in the living room while you went to the bathroom and took an ovulation test. Not exactly the sexiest thing to set the mood but what are you gonna do? You come out some time later brandishing the test before tossing it in the trash.

“Well, I’m ovulating.” You say. “How are you feeling?”

“F-Fine.” He stutters before clearing his throat. “I’m fine.”

“Ok so you’re clearly not fine.” You say. “We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re having doubts. We can wait as long as you need.”

“No, I’m fine, just nervous.”

“This is probably the wrong time to ask but you’ve…. Done this before right?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Christ, Y/N. I’m not a Virgin.” He exclaims. You hold your hands up in surrender. “It’s just weird. You’re my coworker.”

“We can pretend I’m someone else if you want. Like I’m someone from the bar? Or where do you even meet girls? The library? Comic con? Pen gave me a Star Trek shirt last year. Would it help if I dressed up like Spock?—“

“Can I just kiss you?” He cuts you off. “Can we start there?”

Your face can’t help but soften at that. “Yea, Spencer. That’s fine.” You say, stepping into his space. You feel his hand cradle your face before he leans in kissing you softly. You go at his speed for a while, slowly letting your tongues meet in the middle as you wound your hands into his hair. Soon a gasp is leaving you as you feel hands circling your waist pulling you closer as his kisses become rougher. Soon, you find yourself pressed against your wall. You let out a small yelp not expecting that at all. Spencer slots a leg in between yours, rubbing it against your clothed sex slightly. You groan when you feel his erection against your hip. Spencer’s now kissing you extremely rough. His hand drifts from it’s hold on your hip to the bottom of your jaw, fingers spreading slightly so he's almost gripping your neck like he wants to but is trying to hold back for right now. You’re a little surprised at that, you would’ve never thought Spencer Reid was into that. He pulls away for a second, hand still on your jaw looking at you with hooded eyes.

“Bedroom?” He asks. You nod.

———————————————

The two of you didn’t even have time to have an awkward moment because as soon as you’re in your room behind the closed door Spencer is on you, his lips finding your neck and that spot behind your earlobe that makes you moan. You reach to start unbuttoning his shirt, he helps you and you feel the slight smirk against your jaw. As soon as he’s undressed, you take off your clothes and sit on the bed. You look up and see Spencer still standing up at the end of it, watching you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

“Nothing.” He says. “You’re just- you’re beautiful, Y/N.”

You don’t like the way your heart flutters at that. You need to get a grip and remember this is just a one time thing, a business interaction.

“So do something about it.” You say.

Spencer is on top of you at the speed of light, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. You moan loudly, back lifting off the bed when his lips circle around your nipple, fingers playing with the neglected one. He looks at you softly as he starts to pull your underwear down. His fingers ghost above your sex, waiting for your permission. You nod, moaning when you feel the first digit slides across your wet folds. You had thought about Spencer’s hands before but nothing could prepare you for how they’d actually feel inside you. He says nothing, just gently pumps the two fingers inside you, smirking at how much you’re falling apart under him. It’s somehow hotter than when guys talk to you in bed. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the line you had set for yourself as you get closer to the edge. You shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you were. Your moans got more and more loud as you felt yourself falling over the edge, praising Spencer’s name all the while. He still says nothing, just studies you with a look of wonderment crossing his face as you ride out your orgasm.

“You ready?” He asks. You nod, helping him pull off his boxers before he settles in the space between your legs. You feel the tip of his member press against you before he looks you in the eye again, silently asking for permission. You push back against him, granting it. The two of you groan loudly at the feeling as he presses inside of you. Spencer gives you time to adjust to his length, he was definitely a lot bigger than you thought he was going to be, then again you never really thought about any of your coworkers genitalia before. You nod when you're ready and he starts moving, slow at first but quickly picking up pace when he hears the groans and moans escaping your body unintentionally.

“Fuck, Spencer. R-Right there.” You stutter out, Spencer moves your legs higher up on his waist as he started fucking you faster, hitting that spot inside you nearly every thrust. You went into this expecting nothing, really just the most mediocre sex possible. Which was fine, you were only doing this for your baby. You certainly weren’t expecting Spencer to actually be good at this. But here you were, moaning like a pornstar underneath the man she didn’t even like just weeks ago.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned, head dropping into your neck. You could feel him panting into your ear. “Fuck, you feel so good. You’re so tight, baby.”

You don’t know where that baby came from but you were too caught up in it to care. Your moans get louder and louder and Spencer drops a hand to your sex, rubbing circles into the bundle of nerves that had your back arching off the bed. You were so unbelievably close you and Spencer could tell by the scratches you left down his back. He placed a small bite on the small patch of flesh behind your earlobe and that was all it took back over the edge for the second time that night. You felt Spencer’s thrust start to falter shortly after.

“Shit, you feel so good, Y/N.” He groans into your ear. “Fuck.”

You knew it wasn’t wise and if you could take it back you would. But you got swept up in the moment and still reeling from the two orgasms you had that you turned your head and whispered directly into Spencer’s ear.

“Give me your baby, Spence.”

Spencer’s leans his head up to look at you now, an almost feral look crossing his face as he starts fucking you harder. Looking you so intensely in your eyes. He brings a hand up to your neck squeezing the sides slightly and gripping your head so you can’t even look anywhere else if you wanted to.

“Fuck, Y/N. You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you?” He says, fucking you impossibly hard. You moan loudly, gripping his wrist attached to the hand around your neck. “Fuck, I’m gonna--” He cuts off, and you watch him shake as he releases inside of you, thrusting shallowly as he rides out his orgasm.

A minute passes and he separates from you, placing another pillow under your hips. “I’ve seen some studies say it’s better to keep the hips propped up for five minutes after sex to increase chances of fertilization.” He says. “I’ll be right back.”

He leaves you alone in the room for a second and you decide to spend that time gathering your thoughts. This could not be good. Spencer just gave you the best sex of your life for what most likely, was going to be a one time thing. You don’t even know how to go about working with him and raising this child knowing what he was like in the sack. This was a bad idea, but it was also a little too late now.

He comes back in with a cold water bottle, prompting you to drink it which you happily accept. He goes and runs a hand softly through your sweatshined hair.

“Sorry for… doing that, I know you said it wasn’t necessary before but you seemed close and it felt cruel to just not.” You look at him confused for a second before you realize what he’s saying.

“Are you…. Apologizing for making me cum?” You ask. Spencer looks down awkwardly for a second. “Spencer, trust me it’s fine. In fact, it’s more than fine. Thank you for this. I know it was less than ideal for you.”

Spencer playfully ruffles your hair. “It was not as bad as I thought it would be.”

You roll your eyes at that. “Gee, thanks Casablanca.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughs. “I should get going.”

“It’s already late. You could just… stay if you want.”

“I don’t want to impose--” He starts but you cut him off.

“Spencer, stay with me.” You say again, looking him in the eyes. “Please.”

He looks at you back for a second, decoding if you were serious before nodding and crawling into the bed next to you. You immediately turn and toss an arm over his torso.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” You say.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says back.

You can almost swear you feel a kiss at the top of your forehead before you drift off but you’re so tired.

You probably hallucinated it.

Taglist: @moonshinerbynight @crimeshowtrash @no-honey-no @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @chenlemure @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @tclaerh @k-k0129 @takeyourleap-of-faith @trashyhipsterfangirl @haylaansmi @spencerreidlivesrentfreeinmyhead @waspyyy @itsametaphorbriansblog @octaviaxanadu @whxt-to-write @meowiemari @b99andsoc @boba-king-iroh @punkndisorderrly @richardrosejpeg @underratedmisfit @gredvb @criminalminds4days @fanfictionislifetho @justpeachykeeeen @kopfkinomind @moonchildkei @appleblossoms-posts @urguardiandevil @cm-imagines-07 @ajeff855

#spencer x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader

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fantasmalresplendent · 4 years ago

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Dean died at the ripe old age of 85.

In his lucid moments during the days leading up to his passing, in which Dean was just as sharp and as bright as he was fifty years ago, he remarked that people must think he’d robbed the cradle with a “hot piece” such as Castiel hanging around him.

“You don’t mind that I’m a wrinkly, senile, crotchety old bastard?” Dean had asked, more than once, but he had always said it with a smile. And Castiel would smile back, replying with the same answer the answer many times, in many ways:

“You’re not senile.”

“Old, but not a bastard.”

“I thought I was the crotchety one.”

“I don’t mind.”

Then Dean would smile, and it would light up the room, and Castiel would wonder again how he came to deserve the focus, let alone the affection, of such a man.

“It’s not about deserving, Cas,” Dean had said, half-whispered in the middle of the night a few short months after they had begun to share the bed they laid in. “It’s… fuck, well I don’t know what it’s about. But people don’t get what they deserve, not most of the time.”

Castiel frowned, furrowing his brows. “They should,” he grumbled.

“Well if people got what they deserved, they’d… I don’t know, Sam would’ve actually become a lawyer, stayed in school. Jo, Ellen, Bobby, they’d all still be here. I’d get mauled by a werewolf or something, go out with a bang, and Baby,” Dean said sternly, as though chastising the universe itself for such an injustice, “Would never get so much as a scratch on her.”

“You think that’s what you deserve?” Castiel’s voice was soft, not wanting to disturb the still of the night, but steely as he considered even the possibility of Dean’s violent end.

Dean registered that, swallowing, “I don’t know. I guess I just never thought I’d even make it this far. Hunters have the shortest lifespans of any human subspecies,” Dean cracked a smile, but his heart wasn’t in the joke. Castiel knew Dean was doing the math in his head. He knew Dean was mentally recalling how long it had been since Bobby left for heaven. Tallying up the number of people who were gone because of self-sacrifice, mistakes, pure dumb luck. Counting exactly how many years he had outlived his own mother.

Castiel had wrapped his arms around Dean then, embracing him, surrounding him, and they curled into each other completely. Burying himself in Castiel’s neck, Dean had never felt so close to him, and yet so far away. “You don’t have to follow the same patterns if you don’t want to, Dean,” Castiel stated, as if it were that easy. “Do you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Get mauled by a werewolf?”

Dean sniffed in laughter, and that was answer enough.

Castiel found himself stroking Dean’s hair, an action he felt suited him. He thought for a moment in the stillness and in the space between their breaths. “Maybe it’s idealistic of me, but I still think people should get what they deserve. Even- no, especially you.”

Dean took his time answering, opening his mouth several times before actually saying, “Sometimes I don’t think I know what I deserve.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure that out together then. We have time,” Castiel kissed Dean’s forehead and he sighed at the touch. “We have plenty of time. Heaven will wait for you, no matter how long.”

Dean looked up at him then with a pout, “You sound pretty confident in that statement for a dude who hasn’t shown up to heavenly chorus practice in a few years.”

Castiel smiled, “I’d rather be here with you. Always have.”

The man blushed. “Well, if I go… I mean, wherever I go… Where will you end up?”

“I could go with you.”

“Where?”

Castiel closed the distance between them fully, thumbing across Dean’s cheek as they kissed. “Anywhere. If you want me there, I will be there, whether it’s here or heaven. I’ll be there.”

“For how long?”

“For however long you want me to be.”

Dean kissed back, his fingers tangling in Castiel’s hair. “Yeah. Okay.”

Sam went not long after Dean. It wasn’t a surprise; it was his time as well. His children were grown, his grandchildren almost grown, Castiel knew they’d miss him but that they’d be all right. And they knew to call on “Uncle Cas” if they weren’t, even the little ones who didn’t understand exactly how they were related, or why Great Uncle Dean's husband was only about as old as their parents.

“I mean I love the little gremlins,” Dean had said, cracking open a beer after a long few days of babysitting Sam and Eileen's girls while the expecting parents were in the hospital. He was exhausted, they both were, but beaming from meeting the newest member of the Winchester clan: a healthy baby boy named Robert. “But have you seen Sam’s house? Goddamn mess in there.”

“You… don’t want to have some of your own?” Castiel had asked carefully, taking the beer Dean held out for him.

“You’re making them sound like trading cards. I don’t know, I- I guess I never thought too hard about it.” Castiel could tell this was a lie by the way Dean didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Wouldn’t know what to do with a kid if I had one.”

“Do you think you’d be a good father?”

Castiel had met John Winchester, in Hell. Well, he hadn’t exactly met him. He had really only passed by John’s cell, stole a glance at the infamous hunter on his way to retrieve Dean’s soul. He’d never told Dean what he saw, they were not close enough at the time. He wasn’t sure if Dean would even want to know. Castiel had almost spoken about it many times, but whenever Dean talked about John, “Dad,” a look crossed over his face, sometimes for only a second. A furrowing of brows, a tight smile, a quick transition to happier subjects.

The same look crossed over Dean’s face as soon as Castiel had asked the question.

“Wow. Um, loaded question there, Cas.”

He waited for Dean to meet his eyes before continuing, “I think you would be.”

“Do- wait,” Dean shook his head, trying to understand where Castiel was going with all of this, “Do you want kids?”

“I want you to live a normal life, Dean. I want to be able to give you what you want.”

“Okay, lots of stuff to unpack here. First of all, a normal life isn’t and never was an option,” Dean leaned back against the counter, “I think we can agree on that. Second of all, you didn’t answer my question.”

“...And third of all?” Castiel prompted.

“No, second of all first. Do you want kids?”

Castiel sighed, taking a swig of his beer, considering his words. “I’m an angel, Dean-”

“Is that so!” Dean raised his eyebrows, then squinted as if in deep thought, “Weird, somehow I never noticed.”

That deserved a well-placed eyeroll, but Castiel still had a point to make. “We don’t- I’m just trying to…” he set his beer down. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t matter, what matters is that I would love and care for a child, if it were ours. If we decided that was something we wanted, I would be so happy to raise them, with you. I’d be terrified,” Castiel admitted, “At the enormous and important responsibility, but I would love doing it, if… if it was with you. I just want you to know that, I guess,” Castiel shrugged, “I don’t want you to think it’s not an option for us, if you want it to be.”

“Okay…” Dean was thinking, swirling the beer around his glass. He pointed the mouth at Castiel, “You’re still avoiding my question,” Castiel really rolled his eyes this time, “But I don’t really think it’s for me, all that white picket fence stuff. If you really wanted a kid, I would definitely hit the library and read all those, I don’t know, fucking parenting guides, and take the Mommy and Me classes, whatever. And I think you’d be a good father, better than me, I’d just let them eat gummy worms and shoot slingshots.”

“Children love gummy worms. They listen and will behave better when offered gummy worms,” Castiel knew this for a fact from very recent personal experience, “I don’t see how gummy worms could pose an issue. Slingshots, however-”

“Okay so maybe I’m overestimating your abilities a little,” Dean held up a hand, “But still, I… I like this,” he gestured to the space between them and around them, “I like us. I like waking up to a clean kitchen and sleeping in on weekends. I like not having to ask more than one person whether or not I can take a drive by myself or crank my music really loud at midnight. And I fucking hate Paw Patrol.”

Castiel smiled.

“Sam and Eileen always need babysitters. That’s good enough for me right now.”

“You’ll tell me though, if this is something you really want,” Castiel insisted, “If you think about it and decide something else.”

“Sure.”

“Promise.”

“Okay, fine, I promise,” Dean took a step forward and leaned in for a kiss then. Castiel could taste the beer on Dean’s tongue and sighed. Dean smiled against Castiel’s lips, lowering his voice to a comical level, “We could, uh, you know, try and make some babies,” Dean waggled his eyebrows and Castiel pushed Dean’s laughing face away, but grabbed his hand, turning towards their room.

They hadn’t spoken about it again, not seriously anyway. They got a dog. Dean opened a vintage car garage. Castiel learned how to bake. They took long road trips to the beaches in California, wandered through roadside attractions like Carhenge in Nebraska and Cadillac Ranch in Texas. They bought decidedly way too much merchandise at Oklahoma’s National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. And maybe they killed the occasional vampire, the wayward poltergeist, but the occasions became less and less. There were younger, more spry hunters on the road now, always welcome at the bunker to look through their library or ask advice on a particularly troublesome spirit. Sam even coerced Dean into holding what became a yearly “conference,” “What are we, a tech startup?” for the next generation of hunters to learn from the legendary brothers.

So maybe they spent more time at home than on the road, but home suited them. Routine suited them like Castiel never could have predicted it would. It wasn’t a white picket fence, but it wasn’t a lonely highway either. Dean would joke about how “boring” they’d become, but Castiel reveled in the repetition. The three hundredth time Dean brought Castiel coffee in bed was just as lovely as the third. The five hundredth time Castiel cooked dinner passed without fanfare, though Dean hugging him from behind, chin hooked over Castiel’s shoulder as he whisked, felt like fanfare enough. The one thousandth kiss they shared was in their bed, lazily breathing each other in as the first beams of sunlight shone through the window after a week of straight rain. Home, a thing he and Dean had never known in their youth, held the majority of their most precious, most banal memories. But still, Castiel always looked forward to those moments speeding down a desert highway when Dean would reach for his hand, turn his head to meet Castiel’s eyes, and smile.

Time took its time with them.

It seemed the opposite with Sam’s children, who grew up faster than Castiel could keep track of. And as they grew from waddling toddlers to full-fledged human beings, Castiel was fascinated, enamored, but Dean was simply proud. He attended their tournaments, their decathlons. He went to their graduations, weddings, barbecues, and Castiel went with him. They took the kids to concerts and movies, parks and shooting ranges, and Castiel never got tired of the smile on Dean’s face when they threw their small arms around Dean’s neck and called him their “Cool Uncle.” “Hear that, Cas? That means you’re the No Fun Uncle. The No-Funcle.”

And as the crowned Cool Uncle, he teased Sam mercilessly about his minivan and his “#1 Dad” mugs, but Castiel knew how proud Dean was of him too. How glad he was that Sam got the future he wanted, and how grateful he was that that future included him.

The brothers still fought. They still bickered, pranked, and glowered. Sam complained that Dean let his kids use power tools too young when they visited, and Dean complained that Sam’s kids were too old to have never heard “Stairway to Heaven.” The usual, the routine, many times over. But they never lied to each other, at least not about the important things, not anymore. And Castiel was welcome in Sam and Eileen’s house and lives, an honor he felt he didn’t deserve, but as Dean said, maybe it wasn’t about deserving.

It was Eileen who noticed Castiel first as he entered the hospital room the day he'd been informed that Sam Winchester was finally coming home. He didn't have to tell Eileen; she saw it on Castiel's face. They’d already spoken, he’d prepared her for the eventuality a few days prior. Eileen smiled, looking back at her husband, teasing him lightly, but Castiel knew she was holding back on her usual snark because Sam looked, well, tired. Turning away from Sam, Eileen signed, “Are you here for him?”

Castiel shook his head. “No, but someone will be here soon.”

“You mean they haven’t given you reaper duty yet?” Sam joked from his horizontal position, speaking and signing with his usual quick wit, but not with his usual articulation. Castiel had seen him argue with Dean for fifty years like it was his job, he was accustomed to the precision with which Sam had always wielded his words. Not today.

“I don’t think I’d be very good at it,” Castiel stepped closer so that Sam wouldn’t have to crane his head, “I’m not very persuasive.”

“No kidding,” Sam shakily clasped Castiel’s hand and grinned. “I’m surprised Dean even went with you.”

“It took less persuading than you’d think.”

“How is he?” Eileen asked, but she was smiling, so she knew the answer.

“He’s good,” Castiel smiled back, “Getting what he deserves.”

Sam smirked, but his head sunk back into his pillow as if relieved. “And I bet he’s complaining about it non-stop. Asshole never knew how to take a vacation.”

“Neither do you,” Eileen levelled her husband with a fond look.

“We’ve taken vacations!”

“You always wanted to go somewhere exotic and then you’d just end up in the library. Remember Berlin?”

“They had… well I wasn’t going to find those editions in America, and-”

Sam and Eileen bickered for a bit, and Castiel did end up backing Eileen’s points more often than not, so eventually Sam recognized that he was outnumbered on this particular case.

Castiel bid his goodbyes just in time as the nurse entered the room to check Sam’s vitals. Her tone was cheerful, but Castiel could tell that she too knew what was coming.

“Well… I’ll see you soon, buddy, huh?” Sam smiled at Castiel as confidently as he could muster for Eileen’s sake, but Castiel knew behind those laugh lines Sam wasn’t so sure of himself. Castiel supposed that worry wasn’t to be unexpected from a chosen one of Hell, Lucifer's vessel, the boy Castiel had once called an “abomination.”

But Castiel smiled, giving Sam’s shoulder one last firm squeeze. “You will.”

When Dean died, at the ripe old age of 85, he knew what to expect.

He’d visited heaven before. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Not an exciting place, but exciting wasn’t necessarily good. Hell had been exciting, and he was in no hurry to return there. Purgatory had been exciting in a different way, years later he swore the stench still lingered on his skin. Sometimes, when he would lose himself in his “senior moments,” he thought he was back in that bloody in between. Or back in hell. Or had gone to heaven. “Times and places are difficult to navigate when your brain’s turning into gummy worms,” he told Cas once. He didn’t remember saying this a few hours later, but that didn’t make it any less true.

His brain was sure full of them gummy worms now as he clung to his body and to his life. He wasn’t completely sure where he was. Bobby’s? The bunker? His childhood home? Sammy had come to see him earlier, at least the kid had looked like Sammy… No, fuck, that was his grand-nephew, Cas had reminded him of that. Sam, his brother Sam, was in the next room. That's right, he’d told the asshole to give him some space, stop smothering him. He sort of wished he was here now though. And Cas, Cas was here, he knew that, but only because the angel was right in front of him. Cas, his friend, was holding Dean’s hand, talking about what their grand-nieces and nephews were doing in school. Dean could swear he already knew these things, but they still sounded new when Cas said them.

Dean looked over at him, and Cas was smiling.

He tried to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. Cas helped him swallow some cool water. Dean cleared his throat, “Bet you’ve been waiting for this for a while.”

Castiel cocked his head, the smile fading. Fifty some odd years and he still had that same confused look. “Waiting for what?”

“Me to beef it, finally. I know this hasn’t been easy, watching me… seeing me like…” Dean took a shallow breath. “No matter where I go next, at least I won’t be a senile senior citizen.”

“Dean,” Cas said, rubbing the back of Dean’s liver spot-covered hand, “Please listen to me very carefully.”

“Got my hearing aids in, go ahead,” Dean joked.

Cas smiled softly again. “It has been the greatest privilege of my life, my existence, to watch you grow old. I feel honored that you allowed me to experience that. Time’s different for me too,” Cas kissed Dean’s hand, “Space and time were never precious to me, not in the stretch of infinity. Not until you. Not until I was able to see you live your life and live it well.”

Tears welled in the corners of Dean’s eyes. He furiously tried to blink them away, but Cas was already there, dabbing carefully with a handkerchief. “I’m… I’m scared, Cas. I know I shouldn’t be, I’ve seen it all. I’ve beefed it a few times already. But maybe that’s why I’m scared? Because… I know what comes next. What could come next. And this is it, right? No more resets?”

Cas nodded.

Dean took a deep, shuddering breath. “If I don’t end up in heaven-”

“You will.”

“If I don’t, that’s fine, maybe it’s what I deserve, and that’s fair. But… will I see you again?”

“Dean,” Cas said sadly, but with his trademarked firmness, “You are going to paradise. And if for some reason, a completely incorrect and insane reason, you don’t? I dragged your soul out of the flames once, I will do it again. I would do it as many times as I needed to.”

Dean shook his head slightly, “Not fair.”

“It’s not about fair. It’s about the truth. Whether you believe it or not, ET goes home.”

Dean chuckled weakly. He was tired. He didn’t want to let go. He wanted to let go so badly.

He felt the bed move as Cas climbed under the covers with him. The angel curled around him, enveloping him. Dean could swear he felt the brush of feathers cradling him and pulling him closer, but he couldn’t muster the ability to reach for them, stroke them like he used to. “Sleep, Dean. I’ll be here when you wake up. Wherever, whenever here is. That’s where I’ll be. Wherever you go, I’ll go with you.”

“Swear?”

Castiel kissed his forehead. “I swear.”

Dean opened his eyes.

The phrase, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore” popped into his head, but he suspected, greatly, that he was, in fact, in Kansas. The blowing fields of wheat tipped him off to that.

No, wait. That wasn’t a field, it was a… sandy beach. It looked kind of like that beach he and Cas had stumbled upon driving down the Pacific Coast Highway, what was it called? The one where they’d had to hike down from the lookout point? The one where after they’d trudged back up the trail, they’d sat in the car and looked out over the sea as the sun set? The one where Castiel had smiled at him and the light glinted in his blue eyes and Dean had kissed Cas for the first time ever because he just couldn’t stop himself?

Muir Beach, Dean remembered, blushing at the memory.

But just as soon as he’d reached the end of that thought, it wasn’t the ocean anymore. It was a lake. On the lake was a pier. He’d seen that pier before, couldn’t remember exactly where though.

Then without warning, but without alarm, Dean saw someone standing on the end of the dock. A young man with light brown hair and a sweet smile Dean would recognize anywhere.

Jack waved, walking up casually, “Hey, Dean.”

Dean grinned and pulled him into a solid hug. “Jack. I missed you buddy, how have you been? Where, uh… are we in…”

Jack chucked, “I think you know where we are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know know, this could… I could be dreaming or some shit, and I guess even in a dream you could say whatever I wanted you to say, so-”

“Dean,” Jack stopped him, “This is heaven. You are in heaven.”

A relieved but small smile spread over Dean’s face. “Cool…”

“I’m not usually here to meet people who pass on, but we weren’t going to miss your arrival.”

“We?”

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned around. There was Cas, beaming at him.

“Cas…” Dean reached to embrace him too, only now noticing that the hands that reached out were not as wrinkled as they’d been when he last saw them. He hugged Cas tightly, relieved more than he wanted to admit. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Cas’s hand went to Dean’s cheek, holding him in a kiss. They separated, foreheads resting against each other. Cas’s eyes twinkled, “We had an appointment.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean took a step back, seeing Jack grinning out of the corner of his eye. “Is, uh… is anyone else coming? Or is this the welcoming party?”

“They’re all waiting for you,” Cas put his hand down, and as he did, it was stopped mid-air, as if resting on something solid. Dean blinked, and there was Baby, new as the day she was made, parked on a long, long road that stretched far out of sight. “Any time you’re ready,” Cas tossed something in Dean’s direction, “we can go.”

Dean caught the keys on instinct, they jingled on the simple ring.

Any time you’re ready, we can go.

He twirled them around the end of his finger a couple times, a thought itching at his brain. Or a couple dozen thoughts.

Cas gave him a look, then turned to Jack, “Could you give us a moment?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get everything ready,” Jack blipped out.

“Get what ready?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” he turned around to face Cas whose brows were knit in worry, bright blue eyes narrowed, “Are you okay?” Dean realized he hadn’t seen Cas clearly for a few years, not since before the cataracts. He’d never gotten completely used to that piercing gaze.

Dean blinked. “Yeah, I… I just… I’m here. Really here.”

“Yes, Dean.”

“And… you’re here.”

Cas gave him that look like he was being patient on purpose, “Yes, Dean.”

“And… fuck,” Dean stood at sudden attention, “I left Sam down there, is he okay?”

Catching Dean's hands in his own, Cas rubbed comforting circles into Dean's skin. "Sam is fine. He was there when you left. That's why I was a little late, Eileen had only just gotten home and I didn't want to leave before she could be there beside him.

"Okay," Dean took a deep breath, concentrating on the physical contact, grounding himself in Cas’s movements, "Okay. I mean I know he's gonna be fine, he was always fine without me," Dean said, almost to himself.

"And you'll see him soon."

The abrupt return of Dean’s panicked look made Cas smile a little, shake his head, "Not that soon, Dean. Don't worry."

"Right. Of course, yeah,” Dean looked around, down the road, the back to his car, out past the waving grain that had returned inexplicably. “Well,” Dean flashed what he thought was a very convincing smile, letting Cas’s hands go as he tossed the keys once and caught them, heading towards the car, “Time to hit the road, huh?”

"Wait,” the suspicious squint was back as Cas caught Dean’s arm, “Something else is bothering you."

Dean turned around, and the ocean was back. The ocean he’d taken a trip to see, had selfishly insisted Cas come along for the ride for.

He sighed. "I just…” Dean ran a hand through his hair, “I don't know, I guess it just don't sit right that I’m… I'm gonna see Mom and Bobby and Jo and Charlie and… everyone. How am I going to look them in the face and not feel guilty that I got decades that they’ll never have? And what did I do with that time, sit on my ass? Judge local car shows? Go to freaking baseball games?"

Cas nodded slowly, simply listening. He then hopped up and sat on the hood of the Impala, shoes and all. Dean shot him an offended look.

“She’s a memory of a car, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, “She isn’t going to dent.” He patted the spot next to him.

Dean hesitated, but under Cas’s stare, relented. When he was settled, Castiel laced their fingers together.

“I’ve been trying to convince you for all the time I’ve known you that you’re worthy. That you deserved to be saved. That you deserved to rest.” Cas looked down at their entwined hands, “I don’t think I ever really succeeded.”

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“You don’t have to apologize. I know you’ve been doing a thankless job ever since you carried Sam out of your burning home. Shit, even before that,” Dean cocked his head, Cas hardly ever cursed, “you were always trying to be the hero for your mother. Some people are at fault for that,” Cas’s eyebrows furrowed briefly, “but it’s human nature to be hard on ourselves and praiseworthy of others. You, in your limited experience, could not possibly know all of the things that you’ve done that have made a difference. But we’re-”

Jack suddenly blipped into existence, giving Castiel two big thumbs up, then blipped out again.

Dean turned, looking from the space Jack had stood back to Cas then back again, “What-”

Cas shook his head with a smile, “I could never tell you exactly what you’ve meant to the world. But we had a, uh, few volunteers that wanted to show you.”

“Cas, could you quit monologuing for a second and-”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw movement. The endless sea became endless plains which became endless trees, the landscape changing at a rapid rate.

Dean looked back to Cas in confusion, but he didn’t look alarmed. He gave Dean a timid smile, kissed him behind his ear, and whispered, “Just watch.”

Dean watched. For a moment, the scenery couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to be. Then, it decided not to decide. Grains of sand took the form of towering trees, a picnic table, a bench. Green lake water formed the shape of a small boy, hunched over and scribbling on the table. Lastly the wheat twirled and spun and became an all-too-familiar-looking young man wearing a jacket too big for his frame, walking over to the bench and sitting down across from the kid.

Lucas. The name came to Dean from deep in his memory, he was that quiet kid who drew Dean pictures of the ghost in the lake. The grain animated Dean’s smile as he talked, the figure of Lucas showed Dean his sketches. Their forms dissolved as the scene changed and Dean's form was pulling Lucas out of the water, the sheriff having paid his due.

The figure of Dean left, but Lucas stayed and was joined by his mother, Dean remembered her too. They embraced, and the figure of Lucas grew, changed into a young man, a husband, a father. Soon a half dozen figures were standing there, waving to Dean, and then they disappeared, melting back into water. Lucas was the last to go as he was the first to arrive. He signed a phrase to Dean, and Dean knew the words: Thank you, Dean Winchester.

Then the sand reformed into a schoolgirl, the shapes in the green water plaguing her with images of mirrors and Bloody Marys until Dean stepped in front of her, holding a mirror of grain in front of the cruel, refracted specter. It dissolved, and Dean’s form bade goodbye, but the girl remained. She grew too just like the boy did, becoming a professor, graduating with honors, writing dozens of books, and changing dozens of lives. She smiled, and waved, and dissolved as well.

The shapeshifters appeared next, the sand in the form of Sam’s friend Zach, his sister Becky, and even Dean’s false shifter form, but the true form in the too-large jacket blew them all away, leaving Becky waving goodbye. She too welcomed a family that appeared by her side, and they all looked so happy and grateful to have each other.

Again and again the scenes changed. Green waters showed the cities he had passed through, the homes that were kept from destruction, entire communities that were healed. The water formed and reformed into smiling faces and waving hands. Some of the people, Dean had known on Earth. Many of the places, Dean had remembered driving through. Most of the people and places, however, were foreign to Dean. He lost count of the number of strangers who appeared, the cities he’d never been to. He struggled to keep track as they cycled faster and faster, as numerous as the grains of sand and droplets of water they were made of. It seemed that a whole generation of people, all over the world, would-be victims of an apocalypse they never even knew was happening, knew him. Through words and cheers and song, they retold the tales of Dean and Sam Winchester, the tales they had only learned once they had passed on.

Throughout all of this, Cas pressed his shoulder to Dean’s, his presence grounding but not distracting. Dean’s grip on Cas’s hand grew tighter and tighter. Cas did not let go.

Eventually, the images and figures departed. The sand blew away, the waters swirled and dispersed, and the landscape made its final decision. Only a simple field of golden wheat remained, waving and rippling in the wind.

Only in that newfound silence did Dean notice he was crying. He shook his head, wiping the tears away furiously.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean turned to face him, vision blurred, Cas looking at him pleadingly. “You sacrificed so much for so many for so long. You don’t have to be strong right now. You don’t have to be strong ever again if you don’t want to. You have done enough.”

Castiel wiped an errant tear from Dean’s cheek, holding his face between his hands firmly, tenderly.

“You are, and always were, enough. Your job is done. Let. Go.”

Dean did.

Cas silently pulled Dean into his shoulder as he sobbed. Dean didn’t even know why he was crying, didn’t know what for. Maybe he was happy. Maybe he was grieving. Maybe he just felt… relief. He wasn’t sure the last time he felt such relief. He wasn’t sure he ever had truly felt it.

After some time, longer than he’d like to admit, Dean sniffed, wiped one hand over his face, and raised his head. Cas was waiting for him, looking at him with care. With love.

“I, uh… I don’t gotta sign any autographs, do I?”

Cas smiled, and pulled Dean in for a kiss. They stayed like that for a bit on the hood of the car, feeling the breeze, breathing in the fresh air. Dean thought he could hear music coming from somewhere, realizing that it was the car’s radio playing softly from the cab. He knew that any time he wanted, he could hop down from the hood of his car, slide into the driver’s seat with the love of his life on the passenger’s side, and carry on his wayward way. Down the road, through the endless fields, towards the ones he had loved and lost. But not yet, not quite yet, because he had time. Maybe in the end, time was all he had ever really wanted, even if he could never allow himself to ask for it.

Infinity stretched out in front of him like the fields of grain. It wasn’t an exciting infinity, but it was his. It was a long road, a family that waited for him, a shoulder to lean on. It was, at long last, a place to lay his weary head to rest.

#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fix it #destiel fic #like fields of grain #this is on ao3 but i know if I post an external link tumblr will nuke it so #if you can't tell #I'm taking canon hostage and forcing it to pay reparations

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pinkmirth · 4 years ago

Text

—𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝗼𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 [𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞]

《𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝗼𝗺𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 + 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝》

Boxes splayed across the bare, sheen hardwood of your newly owned apartment, some contents of them being haphazardly tossed out onto the floor, courtesy of Katsuki. Speaking of, the eager ash blonde had been taking this whole unpacking thing with a ravaging approach, a little more aggression than enthusiasm being displayed. This disregarding husband of yours had already broken two vases since the moving van hauled in your belongings..

You caught wind of his incoherent murmurs throughout the day, which were practically countless by now. You’d been racking your brain since, attempting to discover what had gotten your poor Katsuki so upset. Despite the marriage that bonded you and him, Katsuki’s profession usually got in the way of many personal things. For a while, it’d been a danger just for the pair of you to live together, so you haven’t been. Until now. It had been three days since you and him moved from the comfort of your hometown, Musutafu, to the renowned capital, Tokyo, and you wished you could say it had been smooth sailing. Unfortunately, a certain Bakugou wasn’t having the best time, always sputtering a profanity or a groan left and right. His case of the grumps was probably a trip of his complex emotions, either caused by a sense of neediness, deprivation of some sort, or bottled rage. You were betting, practically hoping on the first two instead. Knowing your husband, it meant well that he’d get his hands on miscellaneous household items to crush, smash and break, as some way of channeling his anger episodes. Three days down the line, and you already needed to replace a handful.. Though, it was currently dinner time, and you were sure that was a good thing. Katsuki’s little funk would wash away come 6pm. Cooking had a way of melting away the male’s heaps of stress, especially when you offered to join in. Throughout that hour of making food and serving you his prideful dishes, he always carried a subtle smile. Dinner wasn’t something to worry about. “Fuckin’ hell!” Scratch that. Telling by the pestering clatter of the cabinets he was yanking open, to the dastardly echo of his stomps, it seemed that you couldn’t rely on the succor of food for any longer. “I oughta’ set this lousy kitchen on fucking fire!” You let out a hefty sigh, picking yourself up from the spacious beanbag, since you were yet to assemble any couches, before strolling over to the kitchen, awaiting to see the reason behind your husband’s exaggerated shrieking. “Katsu-Chan, what's the issue..?” Your husband immediately bombarded you with a growled rant, “I can’t find my shitty apron!” You eyed Katsuki through furrowed brows. Is all this attitude really about one measly apron? Nah, I doubt it, your inner voice chimed. “And there ain’t any more pepper seasoning, so I haven’t got a clue what I’ll cook now..” he spewed through gritted teeth, recklessly tossing away the poor frying pan that he’d been holding onto all the while, impressive dents imprinted onto the handle, curved into the shape of his fingers. In that case, you had one more household item to replace. Noted.. “I can’t find that damned thing,” he spoke with an exasperated huff, his hands flying up to the cupboards, motioning them open and closed with the slightest violent tendency. “Hate to break it to you, sweet cheeks, but we ain’t eating dinner tonight,” you scoffed over Katsuki’s recurring dramatics, “These past few days have been shitty anyway..” He’d said it throughout a lowly mutter, but it was enough to cause a nervous stream to rush through you. Did he not like it here? Perhaps the city was too busy for Dynamight, maybe he wasn’t immune to getting homesickness as he liked to brag about, or it couldve been that he just wasn’t ready to get used to such a foreign occurrence in your relationship— living together. But, of course, considering your nature to bat things off with a joke of some sort, you contorted your worries into a comical stick to jab at your husband with.

“Darling, if you’re on your man-period, you should’ve just said so..” you’d said it with fabricated pity, all the while holding back your chuckles as his brows began to furrow, upper lip curving vexingly.

“You think you’re so damn funny, dontcha’, woman..?”

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

Another rasped groan left the lips of the ever-impatient Bakugou Katsuki, “Oi. Are ya’ just gonna keep giggling on about my little anger episode forever?”

Hm. For once, he actually acknowledged it for what it is, you thought briefly, before making your way around the glossy, marble-design kitchen island, your hands finding solace on his defined, muscular triceps.

The thick straps of his black, square neck tank top gradually began to slide past his shoulders, shadowing over his collarbone before you inched it back up.

“Do you.. like it here, Katsuki?” By the moment he answered your answer with an aggressive snort, you realized you had nothing to worry about.

“Why the hell wouldn't I? We didn’t pay for this house just to hate the place,” he scoffed, his large palms skimming over the small of your back before thick fingers of his wrapped around your waist.

“That’s a relief, but you’ve been acting a little grumpy— Like something’s bothering you. Could you just tell me how you’re feeling?” You finally admitted your questioning thoughts with an expectant look, watching Katsuki return your curiosity with a subtle smirk. “You wanna know what’s bothering me..?”

“Y’know what, never mind. Don’t wanna hear it, Katsu-Chan.”

Your abrupt response had him knitting his brows and emitting confused huffs. “So you’re just gonna change your mind on me like that?!” You jabbed at his chest with your pointer finger to punctuate your reply, “because you made it sound creepy, that’s why!”

Katsuki then tightened his grip around your waist, earning a breathy gasp out of you. Before you could question the blonde, he already had you hauled up into the kitchen island, standing between your dangling legs with the tip of his nose grazing yours. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh at the comforting warmth of his sizey hands, your arms instinctively flinging around the back of his neck.

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth, hon,” confessed Katsuki, “The move has been great, but horrible. It all went good, I guess. No missing items, moving trucks arriving in record time, everything we wanted. But there’s one more thing that we wanted that you seemed to forget about, you lil’ idiot..”

Despite the use of an insult, his cheeks and ears began the bloom a subtle but pretty pink, his sharp red eyes averting from your own blinking ones.

“Care to inform me on whatever I forgot..?” You skimmed through my your memory frantically in those few seconds that he’d paused, trying to dig up a pleasing answer before he told you himself.

“Privacy, [Y/N].. We’d have so much, too much once we moved to our own place. And we loved the sound of that. Y‘know why, right..?”

Your heart suddenly leapt within your chest at his indication, his left brow rising suggestively as he briefly cocked his head. You definitely knew why.

“So we could have times like this. Without any damned interruptions. I can suck your face off without one of my shitty friends popping up unexpectedly, ain’t that swell?” His voice held the slightest bit of laughter in it, his tone comical and yearning.

“So.. if I said that I wanna feel you close to me..” you murmured, your breath fanning over his proximate lips, “Like, really really close, it wouldn’t be a problem, yes?” A teasing, lingering peck was what you placed across his cheek, earning a genuine grin from Katsuki as a response.

“Who the hell’s gonna stop you? In fact, I’ve got my own idea,” his lowly voice came out booming nonetheless, but of course, the benefit of privacy made sure that his volume wasn’t a problem.

“I wanna watch you. While you watch me.” He didn’t have to be lewdly exact with his words, the lust-blown gaze in your husband’s vermillion eyes was enough to tell what he wanted. It was simple enough as he’d said; Mutual masturbation, just a few minutes before dinner time would commence.

Albeit the serene atmosphere, you couldn’t hold back your snicker over your realization. Bakugou Katsuki, your impatient lover. The poor guy had been in such a distasteful mood, only because of his unnerving libido..

“You wanna watch me take off my panties, huh?” Your teasing statement came out as a suggestive giggle, your hand placed sturdily at the nape of his neck while the unoccupied one got to work on making his fantasies a reality, tugging at the hem of your leggings hastily.

“You’ve gotta watch me too, y’know,” Katsuki reminded you with a gravelly chuckle, shimmying and pulling his bottoms off as though there were no time to spare.

His half naked form had attracted you in an instant, eyes drawing to his thick cock, semi-hard and already being encased into his moving palm.

“Don't just stare. It works both ways, sweet cheeks. I wanna see some fingers moving’ already,” Puffs of breath were taken between his words, ruby red eyes already lidded with an agape mouth that poured out the most arousing groans.

“Nah, I think I’ll just enjoy the show for now,” you decided matter-of-factly, pressing a sloppy kiss along his defined jawline, causing him to emit another grunt, lowly slapping sounds being heard from his vulgar ministrations.

“You think you’re cute, huh..” hissed Bakugou, trudging his clothes back on with a grunt, to your dismay. “Forget it. Instead of putting on a show for a brat like you, I’m gonna go straight to dinner.”

You accepted the fate that your actions resulted in, ready to slide off the island, just before his stern hands stopped you. He gave you this glance, one that made you eye him in suspicion as he kept his hands on each of your thighs, spreading them apart with a lax grin.

“Katsu— Ah!” By now, the blonde had already dropped to his knees, now face level with your clothed heat. “W-what about dinner..?!”

“Whaddya’ mean?” His tone came out rasped and attractive, a growing smirk reaching his lips as his fingers prodded at the band of your bottoms, “This is my dinner, babe..”

#bnha thirst #mha thirst #bakugou imagines #bnha Imagines #Katsuki Bakugou imagines #Bakugou x reader #Bakugou x female reader #bnha insert #mha insert #Bakugou smut #bnha smut #harmoni writes

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corysmiles · 4 years ago

Note

IT'S HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRREEE!! The longest oneshot so far! XD Hope you like it

cw: general themes of hunger, blood, semi graphic description of violence. Be warned!

-----

Phil decided to visit early today, entering the cave and waving at Techno, who immediately recognized him. He moved closer and, while still hesitant, grabbed him and moved him at eye level. It was nice. A bit unnerving, but nice. Phil laughed and hugged two of techno’s fingers before he put him on the counter.

They spent most of the evening sharing stories and getting more comfortable with touch. They even made some progress, techno’s hand not shaking as much when he wrapped his fingers around Phil!

It would be an hour still before Wilbur and Tommy came. So Techno figured it was time to shrink to human size if he wanted to spend some time with them after dinner as a giant. He went and reached the shelf with the bottle. Phil simply whistled and looked around. He stopped and turned when he didn’t hear any drinking sound. Techno was frozen and he looked horrified.

“Are you alright, mate?”

“It’s empty.” Techno said.

“Oh. Well, looks like today is a stay-giant kind of day-”

“No.” Techno put the thing back. “How could I have missed it?? It’s not supposed to happen…” He swallowed and looked back at Phil, worry clear as day in his eyes.

They stared at each other, Phil trying to read the unspoken words of his friends, but nothing came. “What is it? You often stay at your real size during dinners, what’s up?”

“... I haven’t hunted in days.” He admitted after a couple more seconds of silence. “I don’t have any food for tonight.”

“Oh shoot.” Phil took a couple steps towards techno, reaching the end of the furniture. “That’s no good.”

“We’ll have to cancel the grouped dinner tonight.” The giant looked at his small friend. “I’m sorry, but I have to- I know we all usually look up to these gathering but I can’t- I”

“Hey, it’s okay, no need to panic, mate.” Phil tried to reassure. He only gained a loud whine from techno, that he could feel in his bones. (quite literally, the vibration almost made him shake.) “I’ll tell Wilbur and Tommy.”

Techno stared, unsure, before sighing and letting his arm fall. “Alright, go tell them.”

Phil pulled up his phone, sending a message to both his friends. As he pressed sent, he looked back at techno. He did say he used the potion for food, primarily, but surely he dealt with it before.

“Do you want to go now, or…?”

Techno shook his head. “No. Not right now. Plus you’re still here-”

“Oh that’s no problem” Phil waved off. “I can come hunt with you.”

At that, Techno made a…. cringed, sound? Embarrassed perhaps, Phil couldn’t quite name it, but he was definitely uncomfortable with the idea.

“I don’t… it’s quite… You don’t want to see it.” he put his hand on his face, covering his expression.

"It's alright, mate. You know I'm okay with you being a tall boy." He laughed

"No- I mean… I mean it, Phil. It's gross."

"Well then I'll stay here until you come back."

Techno lowered his hands to look at the human, almost annoyed. He groaned and hid his face once more before the sound became much louder, Phil stumbling a little. "There's no way you're giving up on this, is there?"

"Nope!" Phil said, jumping down and being caught by the giant in a panicked movement "Please learn to warn me when you do that, my heart can't take it" he laughed.

"Wilbur told me to do it like this. Says it's more fun."

"Of course he did."

They stayed in the abode a bit longer, watching the sun setting through the window. Techno at one point decided to try and play his violin again, trying to improve to play with Wilbur one day. And even though it was…. Improvable, to say the least, it wasn't terrible either.

Phil clapped at the end of each song, earning a small laugh from the giant every time. He even tried to dance to one. Fortunately, they were the only ones to witness the carnage that was Phil's stumbly move tied to Techno's cacophony. It ended in unstoppable laughter that shook Phil's entire body.

Phil paced around the table he was now on as the laughs died down. He toyed with what he assumed was a home-made pen, turning it around and moving it like it was a spear. He stopped dead in his tracks, shaken by a loud growl that resonated through the entire room.

He turned around and watched his friend put his hands on his stomach, face red, violin now on the floor.

Phil put on an amused smile. "I think now's a good time to go hunt."

"I-" Techno did not have time to object before another grumble was heard. He shut his eyes and opened them, surrender in his expression."Yeah. It- might be good."

He stood up and offered a hand to Phil. "The hunting area is quite far, though. You might wanna take the ride for this one."

The blond gladly hopped on the hand and Techno brought him next to his chest, fingers curling protectively around his friend who watched the road through the space between the fingers. And so he began to walk.

It was the first actual time he traveled with a giant like that. It was nice. And he was glad he took the offer when he realized how far from the abode it was.

The walk ended up being quite long, Techno's stomach growling a lot during it, seeming almost painful at times by the way his face twisted. And everytime, it felt like the giant wanted to just run away and hide from view.

"You don't have to be embarrassed because you're hungry, you know?"

"I- no, but it's- it's so loud and" another rumble cut him off "it's… a hungry giant is not a good sight. It's scary."

"I don't know about that." Phil replied "you're just Techno, who happens to need food. I don't see any problem with that." Techno snorted half in disbelief, at the naivety of his peer.

"You know my soft side too well. I should start to act scary around you more." Phil bursted out laughing at that.

"Yeah, I know you too well. You wouldn't hurt a fly even if you tried."

Techno hummed

"Except if one of us was in danger. I feel like that's the one scenario where you would go apeshit."

"Yeah. Yeah, probably."

The rest of the ride ended up in comfortable silence (apart from Techno's hunger manifesting in numerous loud gurgles). Techno took a breath of fresh air and looked at his friend. He finally lowered his hand and Phil hopped out, on the grass. He took the view around him. "So this is your hunting spot."

Techno nodded. "I'll need around 15-20 adult preys. Don't really care if it's a deer or a wolf or whatever. Once you're done, meet me here."

Phil nodded and took out his bow "alright. Be careful!" He waved goodbye and only heard his laugh as he dived deeper into the forest.

---

The hunt ended up being nearly two hours long. Phil was surprised by the amount of animals here. It made sense, though, since it was so far away from everything, and the only known hunter of the area only stepped by occasionally.

As he brought back the last body near the pile, he noted that it seemed quite little for his friend still. He frowned. Was his friend trying once again to limit himself, so that he doesn't scare Phil?

He visualised his friend, standing up, and then looked back at the pile.

Of course he was.

He groaned and pulled his hair "oh my god- I TOLD HIM IT WAS FINE- JESUS! What kind of tool do I need to use to hammer the idea down his head right?!?" He sighed. It's not like Techno had a small appetite. Everytime they gathered around, he was the one with the fullest plate. But he always was so much shiftier when at his real size. Even though Phil couldn't blame him, it pissed him off.

And so the hunt ended up being longer than anticipated. But he ended up gathering a pile he judged big enough for his friend. And so he headed back.

As he approached the meeting place, he called out "Techno? You ther-"

He stopped. Dead in his tracks. And watched his friend, sitting on the ground, rigid as a statue, hands placed on the ground, holding something he realized were different cows and sheeps and deer.

"What is he doing?" He murmured to himself, not taking a step closer. There was a few more minutes of silence, during which more creatures climbed on his hand, before the large body shifted.

Phil flinched at the sudden movement. The hand raised higher and higher, too quick to let the animals jump down before his mouth opened, jaw wide, and-

Crack.

In a single motion, all the bodies in his hands were chopped down, their other halves between the giant's teeth.

Phil's body was frozen, and he witnessed wide eyes, as Techno dived in and took the rest of his meal sitting in his hand. It was… animalistic, to say the least. After scratching for every little crumb, he lowered his hands, allowing his bloody jaw to be visible.

It was understandable he didn't want his friends to witness that, he realized.

But Phil blinked out of his trance and stepped in like nothing happened.

"Hey, mate." Techno flinched and snapped his head toward the human, who laughed. "Sorry, should've warned."

"It's... it's alright, Phil." Techno said, licking the blood off his face, trying to hide the previous instance. "Uhm, have you been here for a while?"

"Nah" Phil lied "I just came back."

"Good! Good." He stood up slowly "Can you bring me to the ones you hunted down?"

Phil nodded and turned back, getting to said spot. It was almost comical to see Techno taking a small step everytime Phil made ten long ones, but they arrived quickly.

Techno sat down and his eyes widened when he looked at the pile.

"... that's more than 20." He pointed out. The pile was 3 times Phil's size. There were at least double the amount.

“Yeah.” Phil admitted. “You seemed rather hungry so I thought you might have needed more.”

“I mean, you were not the only one hunting,” Techno laughed. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Phil smiled, but it died down a little when Techno shifted, apprehensive. He turned to the blond, a nervous look on his face.

“Mh… Can you- perhaps…. uh… Turn around, maybe?”

Phil gave him a sympathetic smile, before closing his eyes and turning around, sitting legs crossed.

He could only hear the giant, but by the sounds of it, the poor boy was actually famished. He stuffed as much food as he could and chewed fast, and the heavy swallowing sounds made him twitch. Bones were crushed and flesh was torn apart like his life depended on it. Maybe it was morbid curiosity. He did see what it was like earlier after all, but he couldn’t help the silent temptation to turn around and look at the giant in such an intricate, taboo moment.

But Techno trusted him to not do it. Trusted him in this vulnerable moment. One he felt shameful and embarrassed about, and only time could ease this silent pain inside the giant. So, with quite the self control, he kept his eyes shut.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the frantic sounds came to a stop. He furrowed his brows. Still nothing.

Suddenly, he felt a pressure on his head, ruffling his hair. A surprised sound escaped his lips and he laughed as he tentatively opened an eye.

“You good, mate?”

“Yeah” Techno said. “It’s good now.”

Phil turned around and took a small step back when he realized the giant was closer than he thought, hands making a barrier around him, which would be cute if it wasn’t for the crimson red tainting them up until above his wrists. And his face was also covered with blood. He had an almost panicked look as he moved his hands closer. He was panting.

“Hey.” Techno said and gulped, his hands even shaking slightly. Phil could read his thoughts clear as day.

‘Is he scared?’ ‘My hands are so bloody’ ‘Is he gonna run away?’ ‘I probably look like a mess-’ ‘He asked for it, but is he still okay with it?’

‘Is he still okay with me acting like myself?’

Techno was scared. So scared that showing more of him would push him away… But Phil knew better.

And so, to this new side techno showed him, Phil said.

“Hello, mate.”

----

They ended up going back not too long after that, Phil sitting on Techno’s shoulder to avoid the disturbing smell his hands bore. On the way back, Techno let it slip that he hadn’t eaten at all the whole day, hence his need to hunt. Phil scolded him for a good part of the ride about that. But eventually, it ended with smiles and laughs (and a promise to be more careful about techno’s diet. “Well, it’s been in shambles for quite a while” “You are not helping your case here, mate.”)

They entered techno’s abode and next thing Phil knew, he was grabbed gently and placed on the counter. He blinked and saw his friend grabbing a towel and a water bucket.

He chuckled, watching his friends wash away the blood he almost forgot about.

Once clean, techno sighed and turned to Phil. “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

He laughed. “I mean, it’s the middle of the night. Kind of late for me to go back. Mind if I sleep here for the night?”

They stared at each other for a while before techno hummed and opened his palm in front of Phil, who hopped into it easily.

He was grabbed and held onto a bit of a squeeze, not sure why until he felt techno falling straight on his bed, not controlling the arm holding phil that much. He screamed at the sudden sensation of falling, but noticed he was fine once the movement stopped. He sighed. “You could warn me about that next time.”

a rumbly “mmhhsorry” was the only answer he got. He laughed as he watched the exhaustion hit his friend. The grip lessened and, slowly, he allowed himself to relax, the heartbeat and deep breathing of the giant soothing him into a good night of sleep.

No, techno was not always soft. Technoblade was not a man of manners. Technoblade could be harsh. He could be intimidating, violent and raw…

Technoblade was kind as much as he could be cruel. Philza was aware of that reality more than anyone else.

And he would not have it any other way.

You’ve done it again, please send love to @melissa-s23 for this awesome fic 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Cant wait for more of the potion au :]

#melissas writing #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #submission #fic #techno potion au #angst #hurt/comfort #g!techno #t!philza #💛💛💛💛

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saturnseighthringg · 3 years ago

Text

Day 3: Rainbows

Cas needs a little help grooming his wings and Dean discovers some interesting things about his best friend.

Rating: T || Word Count: 1300

Unintended strip tease. Well, Dean feels that way 😉

Read on AO3

“Dean… I have something to ask of you.” Cas sounds weary and Dean isn’t fan of the tone, but he nods, giving Cas his full attention.

“I have a sort of dilemma.” He hesitates. “In our last skirmish with demons, one of them managed to really ruffle my wings.”

“Hold on.” Dean cuts him off. “How does that even happen? They aren’t even out when you fight.”

Cas nods patiently. “Just because they aren’t ‘out’ doesn’t mean another Angel or demon cannot injure them. Angels and demons can exist on multiple planes at a time, which means a demon could theoretically injure my wings. It’s not a common occurrence.”

Dean thought this over, absorbing the new information. Mostly, it made him angry. What demon had the gall to injure his Angel’s wings? An Angel’s wings. An Angel. Not his Angel. Dean refocuses before his mind can get away from him.

“So what do you need me to do?” Dean wasn’t sure how a human could possibly be of assistance with such a matter. Cas had never asked this before. Didn’t he usually just fix them with his grace? Oh, but wasn’t Cas’ grace failing?

Cas shuffles, looking uncomfortable, and Dean realizes this isn’t something he wants to ask.

“Hey.” Dean says softer. “Whatever you need me to do, I got you, Cas.”

Cas’ face resolves. “I need help grooming my wings so they can restore themselves.”

That’s a thing? “And how would I go about doing that?” Make no mistake, Dean was definitely on board. He loved seeing Cas’ wings. In order to groom wings, you had to touch them, right? Dean was giddy at the thought.

“I would manifest them to this plane, and you would go through and… groom them.” He shrugs like he doesn’t know how else to put it.

Dean chuckles at Cas’ reluctance. “Okay, but you’re gonna have to walk me through it. Cuz I have no idea what I’m doing here.”

“Of course, Dean.”

In Dean’s room, Cas undresses his top half, shedding that God forsaken trench coat, and his suit jacket. He lays them neatly on the desk chair and moves his hands to his chest. This feels weirdly intimate to watch and Dean should probably look away. As it is… Dean does not. He watches as Cas’ deft fingers smoothly undo his tie, and pull it from his neck in a fluid motion. Is it hot in here? In a matter of seconds, Cas has unbuttoned his shirt buttons, clearly using some type of mojo to speed the job along. When he shrugs out of his shirt, Dean finds it a little hard to breathe. The fuck is up with that?

Dean had never seen so much of Cas’ skin exposed, and all at one time. Inches of tan skin, sculpted far better than Dean’s own. Maybe that’s an Angel thing. Cas wasn’t small. It was baffling how much that damn trench coat hid. Dean had been missing out. Record scratch. Missing out on what? Cas was Dean’s best friend. And best friends didn’t walk around showing each other their bodies. Dean needed to get his head out of his ass.

He claps his hands together to clear his mind. “Alright, then. Whip ‘em out.”

He watches Cas’ eyes close in focus and in moments, large black wings appear to grow out of Cas’ back.

Dean walks around Cas like he’s appraising a car, taking it all in. As magnificent as they are, they’re definitely a little mangled. He glances to Cas as he reaches a hand up, silently asking permission. Cas nods in permission, and Dean sinks his fingers to get a feel for them.

It’s like plush down. The softest blanket he’d never felt. He lightly rakes his hand through and feels the mishaps within the feathers. He doesn’t realize he’s smiling like a goof until he looks at Cas, who has a curious expression on his face. Dean drops his hand.

After arranging themselves on the bed, Cas on the edge, with Dean cross-legged behind him, Cas turns his face slightly to walk him through the steps.

“So the first step is going through and plucking all the loose feathers. They should be easily identifiable and come off easy. Healthy ones won’t, so don’t worry.” Dean nods even though he’s pretty sure Cas can’t see him and sets to work.

It’s therapeutic and methodical, grazing his hands through Cas’ wings. Dean feels at ease with the world, safe. Which is a thought worth snorting at later. The world was far from safe, but details, details.

They don’t speak, preferring to remain in their heads.

When he’s sure he’s plucked all the problem feathers, he drops his hands, looking around his bed and the floor. It’s littered with black feathers.

“I think that’s it, Cas.” Cas lifts his wings to- stretch?- them and they tremble like a dog shaking water off. It would be comical if it wasn’t one of the coolest things Dean had ever seen.

Once Cas is done stretching his wings, he brings them back to their original resting place. “The next step is fairly easy. Just go through and straighten any feathers you see that look crooked or out of place. This shouldn’t take long at all.”

Dean immediately sees what he’s talking about and sets about his next task.

In the places he’s straightened, that are looking pretty perfect if Dean says so, he notices a dark liquid leaking from somewhere in the large appendages. The hell?

“Cas, what is this?” He doesn’t mean to sound alarmed.

“It’s wing oil. You’ll spread it over the wings to protect them.”

Dean swipes some up onto his fingers, examining it. It’s thick and amber colored, resembling car oil. It’s not so viscous that it sticks to anything but it doesn’t drip much. Curious, he brings his hand to his face.

It’s- sweet. And spicy? How…? It smells like cologne. Not one Dean’s ever smelt, but it’s- good.

“Dean? Is something wrong?” Dean hadn’t realized he’d gone still in his observation.

“Nah, just got sidetracked. This stuff smells really good.” Dean has a crazy ass thought of sticking his finger in his mouth to see if it tastes as good as it smells. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“It’s supposed to appeal to the groomer.”

Dean frowns even though Cas can’t seem him. “How’s that work?”

Cas shrugs. “It just... does. I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s just meant to be pleasant to the groomer. It resonates their favorite scents.” Cas pauses, tipping his head to the side, obviously thinking. Then, “What does it smell like to you?”

Dean’s face heats up. That’s kinda personal he thinks. Or is it?

He pauses long enough that Cas reassures him. “If you don’t wish to say, I don’t mind. It is personal. I was only curious.”

Dean clears his throat. “It’s fine, uh, it’s not that big a deal.” Dean leans in closer and takes a deep breath, trying to identify all the notes. “Kinda smells like spice. And honey.”

Cas hums, thoughtful. “You like the combination of sweet and spicy.”

“Yea, hell of a combination. Hard to get right.”

Dean focuses back on his task, starting to spread the oil on the straightened feathers and pauses. He stares. Hard.

Where he spreads the oil, the wing gleams. And when he shifts slightly, he notices the sheen provides a holographic effect.

Cas’ wings have rainbows in them.

He spreads some more around and then, like a kid, proceeds to move himself around to catch the rainbow shines.

“Dean?”

Dean laughs. “Did you know you have rainbows in your wings?” He asks in wonder, excited.

Cas chuckles. “I did. It’s very fitting.”

And for once, Dean’s not sure he gets that reference.

#suptober21 #destiel #deanandcas #deancas

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z-iridest · 3 years ago

Text

My Hero Academia: I Am Phoenix

Chapter 1: Origins

No matter what you do to try to avoid it, nothing prepares you for the moment your life changes forever...

My Mom used to tell me that, at some point in their lives, everyone's been through a fire of some kind. She's told me that the difference between heroes and villains is whether or not they chose to rise from the ashes and use the embers to protect or destroy. The villains choose to destroy and burn down the whole world with the remaining embers that burned them, while the heroes rose from the ashes to shine bright as a beacon of hope against the darkness of despair. Those words have kept me pushing toward my goal of becoming a hero... To becoming a light of hope for those around me. But, the day my life changed forever happens to be part one of the worst memories I have, and part one of the best...

Back when I was little, it was just me and Mom. My father was never in the picture, and Mom always did her best to raise me on her own while being a pro hero. I still remember the warmth of the scarlet red in her hair, the love that was always in her silver eyes when she saw me. Because of her quirk, she had white feathers scattered in her hair, and I remember that her laughter used to bubble out of her like the melody of a song emerging from the harmonies. When I gained my quirk, I was two, and Mom was there to teach me how to use my newfound wings to fly, she was the one who gave me tips of how to control the flames I could produce.

For the next 4 years, everything was perfect... And then I turned six. I won't go into detail about what happened that day since I'm not here to dwell in the ashes of the past, but all you need to know is that my mother died and I was taken in by the man I consider to be my father. But, our real story starts 8 years after those events took place...

It was the July before my 15th birthday. The silence in class 3-C in Endor Jr. High was only broken by the sound of pencils softly scratching against paper. Our teacher had surprised us with a pop quiz about 15 minutes prior, one I was prepared for thanks to my Dad. As I sat there, I was thinking about my Dad. He was a pro hero himself, and he always did what he could to protect people. I'm aware of how cheesy it is to say that my Dad's my hero, but I can't help it. He's a great pro hero and, in my opinion, an even better father. Even if I could have chosen, there isn't anyone in my books better than the Dad I have in my life... Who is the guy I'm talking about? Well... I'll get to that in a second...

"All right, everyone, pencils down, time is up. Pass your quizzes forward." My teacher, Ms Nakamura, announced, her shout derailing my train of thought. I passed up my quiz and since I was in the back of the class, I didn't have to worry about anyone behind me. I watched as my teacher collected the quizzes, seeing that most of the students in my class looked about ready to pee themselves. It was understandable, considering it was a pop quiz and half of them don't pay attention in class or study for tests in the first place, but I was definitely not one of those students.

"Now, I could pass out apptitude tests to see which futures you want, but I already know all of you are aspiring heroes in the making." At her words a few hours later, the entire class cheered, showing off their quirks. Knowing how dangerous mine was, I rolled my eyes, not showing off my own. What do I mean by quirks? In case you weren't already aware, some time ago, the first "quirk" appeared in a baby with a luminescent light in Qing Qing City, China. Over the years, these powers have become more and more widespread. Today, over 80% of the population has at least some type of power. A bit after the first quirk popped up, the Hero Public Safety Commission was founded, and a new occupation was set into the public's conscious... Heroes. Ever since quirks first appeared, our streets started looking like the pages in comic books. But, when the heroes rose, so did villains... As for what powers I have, my quirk is called Phoenix. In short, it basically means I can do anything a phoenix can do. Pyrokenesis, the transformation into a winged humanoid form, healing tears, regeneration, the whole 9 yards. The only problem is the drawbacks: The flames I create burn me, and overuse of my quirk results in severe burns. I also overheat easily, especially on hot days and colder and stormy conditions make it harder for me to produce them in the first place, so it's kind of a catch 22... You'd think after 12 years of having this quirk, I'd have figured out what to do about the overheating at least, but nope! "I know, I know, you all have very impressive quirks, but remember, you're not allowed to use them during school hours. Settle down now." She reminded my classmates, causing them to stop. Weird, normally, they would have never listened to her. "Now, as I'm sure most of you know already, the top school for hero students is UA High..."

"Which is a school that has a very slim acceptance rate as it is, only 0.2% of applicants actually make it in. It's very hard to know for sure if you've made it or not unless you get in by recommendations, and even then, there's only 4 of those spots." Kairi Tsukihara, one of my classmates, brought up. Miss Nakamura nodded.

"That's a good point." She replied.

"Sure, the chances are slim, but it's not impossible to get in." I spoke up, turning everyone's eyes to me.

"Oh, please, Yagi, you wouldn't be able to get in without a recommendation, not that any pro hero would give one to a loser like you." I frowned at the girl next to me. Out of everyone in class, the person I got stuck with sitting next to just happens to be the one girl who pushes me around... Kagura Shinohara.

"Wanna bet?" I asked, looking at her. "My quirk would get me closer than yours." She glared at me for that. Her quirk was called Shadow. The only thing she could really do was make shadow copies of herself and/or others, and those clones die instantly in any kind of light. A cool quirk... If she could do more with it, I'll admit that much, but you get the point. Back when we were little kids, she used to create 5 of her clones to beat me up, but since I was encouraged by my Dad to use a small flame to destroy them last time, she hadn't tried it again. Instead, she settled for verbally attacking me. She never could take it as well as she could dish it though...

"Kagura, Hinotori, that's enough." Miss Nakamura drew our attention back to her. "Just because UA's the best school, doesn't mean it's the only school out there for heroes."

"Shiketsu Academy, Ketsubusu Academy, Seiai Academy, Seijin High, Isami Academy.... All really great schools." Tsukihara added with a nod.

"Teacher's pet..." I shot Shinohara a glare for the comment under her breath, but ultimately decided to ignore her.

"That's true. I want you all to think about the heroes you want to become. There's 10 months between now and the new school year. Train and study hard, keeping that hero's image in mind, and I promise, it will lead you all to wonderful places." Miss Nakamura continued. What kind of hero I wanted to be... That thought stayed with me all through the rest of the day. It was easy, but at the same time....

I wanted to be a hero like my Mom: Selfless, brave, never backing down from a fight. But, like I said before, I also wanted to be a light of hope for everyone... To give people courage the way Dad did... When the bell rang after 6th period, I was packing up my stuff when I got a notification on my phone. There was a news article online about All Might chasing and capturing a villain they called the "Sludge Villain". Go, Dad! I thought, a smile forming on my face. For those of you currently freaking out, yes, All Might is the one that adopted me after my Mom died, and is the man I've considered my Dad ever since. In order to protect me while I was still a kid, he took me to work with him after school and let me stay in the office to do my homework while he was out doing hero work. Once I got old enough to fend for myself though, it stopped happening, and I studied at home. When Dad came home, we'd train together, eat dinner and that was usually the end of the day. That day, though, things turned out differently.

While walking home, I noticed a large crowd gathered. I blinked. What was going on? I pushed my way forward, and what I saw made my blood run ice cold. In the middle of the chaos was the Sludge Villain, and he had a hold of a boy. What the hell? I thought Dad had captured the villain.... The boy was wearing a black uniform with gold buttons, and he looked around my age with spikey ash blond hair. He was struggling, the Sludge Villain being around his nose and mouth. He got free for a split second, yelling out. "YOU PICKED THE WRONG GUY TO MESS WITH! I'M GONNA SEND YOU BACK TO WHATEVER SEWER YOU CRAWLED OUT OF!" Explosions left his palms and he yelled out, "LET ME GO!" I covered my face as giant explosions went off, barely able to hold my ground from where I was. The Sludge Villain's using this boy's quirk to cause damage.... I thought, looking around to see multiple pro heroes: Kamuai Woods, Backdraft, Death Arms, even the new hero Mount Lady, the latter having debuted just that morning... But, they were all standing around doing nothing, most of the heroes having been thrown back from the shockwaves, while Mount Lady didn't have enough room to maneuver.

"You've got so much power, I really hit the jackpot. With a quirk like yours under my control, I can take All Might down with one punch!" The Sludge Villain cackled, the heroes either switching their attention to rescue those in danger, doing damage control, or held up by a weakness of some kind. If only Dad were here... There was destruction all around the area, the buildings being badly damaged, the fires spreading... I can't just stand around anymore... Before I could even register what to do, my body started to move, my feet pounding against the asphalt of the road as I ducked the policemen holding everyone back and ran into the middle of the fight.

"Whoa, hang on, kid, it's too dangerous!" One of the heroes yelled to me as I passed him. If it was so dangerous, why were he and so many others just standing around doing nothing? I extended my hand out, willing the fire to come to me. On cue, the fires from the buildings flew toward me, covering my body. That would at least allow those in danger from the fires to be safer. I knew I couldn't take all the fire at once, but I had to try something to help.

"PHOENIX HEATBLAST!" I yelled, punching the villain and releasing a bit of the inferno I'd collected. The hit connected, but the smell of the burning slime came to my nose, and I had to resist the urge to gag. Gross.... The villain laughed, his gaze turning to me. To anyone else, it would look like my body was burning, my hair being the top of the flames that surrounded me. But, these flames didn't hurt me. If I created my own fire, that would be a different story....

"I like 'em fiery! Plus, seeing how strong you are, I think I'll take you too!" Well, I got his attention... I flipped out of the way as he struck where I'd been seconds before.

"You gotta catch me first, slimeball!" I pointed out, smirking as I dodged him again and again. He did end up landing a hit on me, which knocked me back. I flipped to land on my feet, sliding a couple feet back before I charged again, using more of the flames around me to create flames shaped like a sword. With a roar, the Sludge Villain sent an attack my way. I kicked into a slide to avoid it and on the way back to my feet, I brought my sword down, cutting through the attack. The Sludge Villain screamed out in pain, and I blasted him with more flames, focusing on a spot away from the boy he'd taken. Now that I knew my flames could cut his attacks, maybe it was possible for me to cut the boy free too...

"NO, YOU IDIOT, YOU'RE GONNA GET YOURSELF KILLED!" Death Arms yelled, startling me out of my thoughts. What the hell? I turned to see a boy who had fluffy green hair and matching emerald eyes that held a look of worry for his friend. He was only 3 inches taller than me, much to my annoyance, and he had freckles in the shape of a diamond just below each of his eyes. Plain looking compared to others I've seen, but still...

"Not this kid again..." I heard the Sludge Villain groan.

"Deku?" The blond's voice came out quiet, but the sound of it was gruff.

"YOU'RE TOAST, KID!" The Sludge Villain's yell snapped me out of my state of shock, and I blasted the lower half of him with my flames. When I turned, the kid had taken off his backpack and chucked it at the villain.

"TAKE THIS!" It hit him square in the face, which would have made me laugh in any other situation. A can fell out and got him in the eye, causing him to flinch back with a roar of pain. The flinch resulted in the blond's mouth and nose being freed, the guy coughing and wheezing now that he had air. Perfect distraction! I created another fire sword, this one shorter than the one before and started hacking away at the binds around the boy and the green haired boy started trying to dig the other guy out, but by the looks of things, the Sludge Villain had specifically thickened that area so I couldn't cut through it. Damn it... "KACCHAN!"

"What the hell? WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" Kacchan questioned the boy next to me, who was currently clawing at the sludge keeping his friend captive.

"I don't know! My legs... They just started moving!" The Sludge Villain started to recover, covering Kacchan's face again. "Kacchan, I couldn't just stand there and watch you die!"

"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" Kacchan yelled.

"Just a little bit longer, kid, then I'm done playing with you!" The Sludge Villain yelled. I pushed the green haired boy out of the way, giving a yell as I gathered as much fire as I could muster and brought my arms up in a block as the attack barreled toward me. I glared the villain down, ready with a counter attack in mind.

"SAVE THE GIRL! IT'LL KILL HER!" I heard Death Arms hell, but I knew I'd be able to take the hit. If Dad couldn't make it, I'd help them... I'd be the hero I always wanted to be... Another explosion ripped through the area as the hit connected, but... Not with me.

"I really am pathetic." A deep voice I knew all too well spoke. The boy behind me gasped a bit in shock.

"All Might. But..." He murmured. In front of me, holding up the Sludge Villain's attack, was my Dad in all his 7 foot, 2 and a half inch tall glory. His eyes were sunken in compared to his early years, his face chiseled and his muscles bulging from holding back the villain's attack, but his blond hair still stuck in the the familiar two tuffs that leaned to each side. I knew this as his muscle form and besides me, there were very few who knew about my father's "true" form. He still held that smile, and judging by the smoke coming off him, I knew he had transformed again early to help us.

"I told you the traits to make a great champion, but I see now I wasn't living up to my own ideal!" My Dad broke free of the Sludge Villain before grabbing the blond. "Pros are always risking their lives! That's the true test of a hero!" He continued, blood coming out of his mouth. He was really pushing past his limits, the way he'd always taught me.

"DAMN YOU, ALL MIGHT!" The Sludge Villain screamed, preparing an attack as Dad was doing the same thing.

"DETROIT SMASH!" Dad gave a battle cry, freeing the blond from the villain's grasp, blowing out the remaining fires and blasting the villain away in one punch. The winds that rose up caused the sky to darken and as my Dad panted to catch his breath, rain started to fall. I noticed the blood coming from Dad's mouth, looking at him worriedly.

"Holy crap... He changed the weather." I heard Death Arms say as Dad wiped the blood away. As my Dad stood tall, the crowd began to cheer. He stumbled back slightly before raising his left fist, causing the crowd around us to cheer louder. I noticed as my Dad glanced back behind us to the green haired boy passed out on the ground. After that, the pros collected all the scattered mounds of sludge and the villain went into police custody where he belonged. While my Dad handled the press, I was sitting next to the green haired kid.

"You morons. Do you two have a death wish?" Kamuai Woods asked us.

"There was absolutely no reason for you to put yourselves in danger like that!" Death Arms added. I stood up.

"Like you guys had the situation under control? It might have been dangerous, but all of you were just standing around. I'll admit that we both rushed in out of a foolhardy attempt to save a life, but that doesn't change that the blond would have died had you kept doing nothing to help him. In my opinion, that kid is a better hero than any of you." I jabbed my thumb at the kid behind me as I talked. When I was finished, I turned to the green haired boy. "Come on, let's get you home." I told him, grabbing his wrist and walking off before the heroes could say another word.

"Wait, hang on!" The boy started to protest as I pulled him up and away, but I wasn't having it. Once we turned the corner, I let go.

"Don't listen to them, you've got more guts than anyone I've ever known before. What's your name, kid?" I asked him, looking at him. He stared at me for a second. This kid thinks I'm crazy, doesn't he?

"I'm Izuku Midoriya." He told me.

"Midoriya, huh? So, what that kid called you earlier wasn't your name?" I questioned.

"Deku? No, it was a mean nickname he came up with when we were kids. He said it means worthless." He answered.

"Deku... It sounds like it could be a hero name. It's up to you, of course, but I'd suggest taking that negative name and turning it into a positive." I replied with a soft smile, though it quickly dropped when I remembered something. "Oh, right, I didn't tell you my name. It's Hinotori. Hinotori Yagi. You can call me Tori or Hina, whichever you prefer."

"It's nice to meet you, Yagi." He replied. I stared at him for a second before chuckling a bit. Despite having told him he could call me by my first name, he still called me by my last name. As we walked, we talked together. For a kid with incredible bravery, he was quirkless, and meeting my Dad hadn't gone as he'd hoped. I frowned at the sound of this. Dad met this kid and told him he couldn't be a hero? Seriously?! I need to have a talk with him... I thought.

"DEKU!" I heard that gruff voice again, cutting off my thoughts. Both of us turned around to see the blond from earlier.

"Kacchan?" Came Midoriya's response. The blond panted for a good minute before speaking up again. Had he run after us?

"Listen... I would never ask for a weakling like you to help me. Don't think you can look down on me! Huh? Got that?! I was fine by myself! You're just a quirkless failure who won't even cut it as a rent-a-cop! You didn't help me, you did nothing! Don't forget that!"

"Whoa, first off, don't ever call him Deku like that again. Secondly, you could show a little more respect to the person who you not only grew up with, but to that same kid that jumped in without a second thought to help your fucked up ass!" I fired back, turning his attention to me.

"Yagi, seriously, it's fine, he does this all the time..."

"Hang on, he's always treated you like this and you still jumped in to help him? You consider him a friend even though he pulls this shit? He's not being a friend, he's being a bully." I turned back to the blond. "And you, the next time you even raise a finger toward him, you better remember the name Hinotori Yagi, cause I will personally kick your ass!"

"I don't owe him anything! And the same goes for you, Flame Bitch!"

"Call me that again, Blasty, see what happens!" I felt my hair flare up, and I noticed Midoriya jumping back out of the corner of my eye. My quirk's flames are pretty hot, but when I get mad and let it burst, my hair bursts into flames before I allow it to extinguish.

"DON'T CALL ME BLASTY! THAT'S NOT MY NAME!" He shouted back.

"THEN WHAT THE FUCK IS IT, HEDGEHOG?!" We glared each other down for a second before he scoffed and turned the other way.

"It's Katsuki Bakugo, I'm gonna be number one someday, so don't you forget it!" He snapped before stomping off.

"Not with that attitude." I mumbled under my breath. With a deep breath, I let the fire in my hair go out before turning to Midoriya. "Sorry about that, but when someone I consider a friend is being treated like that, I can't exactly hold back my temper. I gotta work on that..."

"You consider me a friend?" Midoriya asked.

"Well, yeah, you seem like a cool kid." I answered. "I hope you'll consider me a friend too, but it doesn't have to be now. You can decide that on your own."

"I will admit one thing, though.. Kacchan's right. It's not like I really did anything to help, but at least I tried... Oh well..." Midoriya told me as we continued to walk. I opened my mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a booming voice.

"I AM HERE!" Dad appeared in front of us, looking like he'd been running to catch up to us. Midoriya shrieked.

"All Might?! Where'd you come from?!"

"You finally got rid of all those reporters?" I asked. While I had told Midoriya my name, I hadn't revealed my connection to All Might... Probably not the smartest thing, but Dad had warned me against telling anyone my family ties. If villains knew about my relation to the number one hero, they could use me against him. Dad's laughter boomed out of him, the laughter that used to comfort me as a child

"I stand for justice, not soundbites! Because I," I rolled my eyes as he turned slightly and flexed. "I am All Mi-" He suddenly transformed back into his true form, coughing up blood from over exertion. Compared to his muscle form, he was shorter, yet still taller than me. His hair stuck up in spikes and the two tuffs that usually stood up fell to frame his face. His eyes were still sunken in, but you could see that his eyes were blue, and his body was skeletal. Back home, this was the form he was usually in, this was the form that had raised me... At least, the form that had raised me for the past five years...

"All right, all right, Dad, could you take it easy now?" I asked, joining his side with a frown as he coughed. I placed a gentle hand on his back, but when I looked up, Midoriya was staring at me in shock. "I swear, we'll explain later, but right now, please listen to what he has to say." I promised. Once the coughing had stopped, Dad spoke again.

"Young man, I came here to thank you, and also to discuss your question from earlier. If you hadn't told me about your life, if you hadn't run into that fight... I would have been a worthless bystander watching from the crowd. So, thanks."

"Oh, no. It was my fault he was there to begin with." Midoriya looked down. "I got in the way of your hard work... I wasted your energy... And... Not to mention your time."

"I'm not done. You told me you didn't have a power, so when I saw this timid, quirkless boy try to save a life, it inspired me to act too." I straightened at those words. Was Dad about to do what I thought he was going to do? "There are stories about every hero, how they became great. Most had one thing in common: their bodies moved before they could even have a chance to think, almost on their own." Midoriya's eyes teared up and he hung his head as he sniffled. He started to sob, bending over as Dad continued. "Today, that's exactly what happened to you." Midoriya continued to sob, hitting his knees as the wind kicked up. The words we both knew were coming left my Dad's mouth "Young man, you too, can become a hero." As Midoriya was on the ground sobbing, my Dad continued, but while his next words threw Midoriya from tears to confusion, he said the words I thought were coming. "I deem you worthy of my power, my quirk is yours to inherit." The look on Midoriya's face was almost laughable, but I understood his shock. As far as the public knew, quirks were born with, not given. But, my Dad's quirk was kept under wraps for a reason...

"Wait, what'd you mean inherit? Inherit what?" Midoriya asked. Dad laughed.

"You should see your face right now. Don't worry, I'm not gonna force this thing on you." Dad walked toward him a bit. I was bracing for what was about to happen. If Dad was really gonna spill to Midoriya about his quirk, I wanted to see what the hell the freckle faced boy was gonna say. "Journalists always guess my Quirk is super strength or some kind of invulnerability. When people ask in interviews, I always make a joke and dodge the question. That's because the world needs to believe that their Symbol of Peace is just a natural born hero, like any of them. But, I'm not... There's nothing natural about my ability." My Dad extended his arms out on either side, tipping his head back. "I wasn't born with this power, it's a sacred torch that was passed on to me from someone else."

"Someone gave you this Quirk? No way..." Midoriya trailed off.

"Yes, way, and you're next. I can give you my abilities." As Dad talked, his shirt flew up a bit in the wind, revealing the scar he had gotten 5 years ago... The scar that was a reminder of the scare I'd gotten as a 9 year old kid.

"Wait, hold on, this is a lot to process. It's true there's a lot of debate as to what your Quirk actually is. Nobody's ever figured it out, it's one of the world's greatest mysteries. People are constantly talking about it online. But, well, the idea of passing on a Quirk or inserting it just doesn't make any sense to me, I've never heard anything like that before, powers are supposed to be unique to each individual, I mean since the first superpowers, no one's ever been able to just give someone else their power like a present, that's crazy...." As Midoriya went into a rambling tangent beyond my comprehension, I glanced at Dad.

"I think you broke him..." I told him. Dad turned back to Midoriya.

"Uh, sounds like you're overthinking this whole inheriting thing. Stop nerdin' out!" Dad's shout knocked Midoriya out of his ramble, causing him to look up. "You'll have to adjust your reality and accept this new truth! I can transfer my quirk to someone else, and that's just one facet of my secret abilities. The true name of my power is One For All."

"One.. For... All..." Midoriya repeated.

"Yes. One person improves the power, then hands it off to another person. It continues to grow as it's passed along. It is this cultivated power that allows me to save those who are in need of a hero, the truth behind my strength."

"But, why would you choose to give me a gift like that? What if I can't live up to it?" Midoriya asked.

"I was on a long hunt for a worthy successor, and then, I watched you jump into action with my daughter as the rest of us stood idly by. You might just be a quirkless fanboy, but you tried to save that kid."

"You acted like a hero, Midoriya." I finished, Dad nodding in agreement. Midoriya teared up, whimpers leaving him.

"Seriously! You gotta stop cryin' so much if you want my Quirk! Come on, kid!"

"Dad, ease up, would ya? It's a lot to process. I mean, you're telling him there's a way for him to be a hero when everyone else in his life said he couldn't." I pointed out. Midoriya stood up, looking determined after wiping his eyes.

"Okay, I'll do it, yes!" I smiled at Midoriya's answer.

"No reluctance, that's exactly how I figured you'd respond." Dad replied, looking satisfied.

Two days later though, as the sun was beginning to rise on Takoba Municipal Beach Park, Dad had begun to put Midoriya through one hell of a training regiment. I was half asleep, not used to being up this early on a Sunday of all days. Least it was nowhere near winter yet, but why the hell had Dad dragged me out of bed for this? I watched with furrowed eyebrows as Midoriya strained with ropes around him, trying to pull something big... With my 562 pound Dad sitting on top of it. "Hey, hey, hey, it's pretty comfortable up on this fridge, how're you doing down there?" That thing's a fridge?! What the hell?! Midoriya grunted as his legs gave out, faceplanting into the sand.

"Uh, Dad, maybe we should start with small pieces and work him up to the big stuff?" I suggested, but my words fell on deaf ears.

"It's fine, people move these everyday, y'know, and most of them don't even have any super strength."

"Most of them have two of more people with them, Dad." I deadpanned.

"Well, yeah, but..." Midoriya started to say, sitting up. "There's an extra 600 pounds with you sitting on top of it."

"Meh, 562, he was 604 before, but he lost weight due to that nasty injury." I pointed out, Dad nodding in agreement.

"In this form, at least." Dad added.

"Great, much better." Midoriya quipped, making me snort. Okay, I had to admit, the green ball of fluff had spunk when he wanted. "Why do you have me dragging trash across the beach anyway?" Dad laughed in response.

"Take a look at yourself, you're not ready for my power." Much to both Midoriya and my own horrors, Dad started taking pictures of Midoriya with his phone.

"Daaaad..." I started to warn, but it was too late.

"But, I thought you said I was worthy!" Midoriya started bawling.

"He's talking about your body, M. One For All is a lot to handle, apparently." I shot Dad a look, him nodding to confirm. He had told me what we were doing on the way there, but I didn't see why I needed to be there at that point.

"The combined physical abilities of everyone who's ever used it creates a hurricane of pure force. An unprepared body can't fully inherit it. Your arms and legs would shoot off if you tried to." Dad pointed out.

"Seriously?!" Midoriya squeaked before shaking his head. "Okay... So, this whole trash thing is really some kind of hardcore gym workout. And... You're my trainer."

"You got it! But, there's another reason, too." Dad answered.

"Dad did some online research yesterday. As it turns out, this part of the beach used to be beautiful, but it's been a total mess for the past few years." I added, watching as Dad walked over to the fridge and knocked on it once. Midoriya stood up.

"That's right... Because of the ocean currents, anything that's dropped in the water ends up here. People take advantage of that when they're illegally dumping their trash. Now, all the local avoid this place." Midoriya finished.

"Heroes these days are all about showing off and capturing flashy villains. Things were different before Quirks. Service was what mattered. Back then, heroes were those who helped the community, even if it was kinda boring." Dad told us as he crushed the fridge flat with one hand. Midoriya looked amazed, meanwhile, I rolled my eyes. Don't get me wrong, I love my Dad and look up to him, but there are times where he's nothing but a complete and utter showoff. That day, was one of those times. The trash behind him blew back from the wind pressure of the crushing of the fridge, Dad continuing to speak. "You will restore the coastline for this entire section of the beach. That is the first step on your path, young man, towards being a hero." Midoriya blinked at my Dad before turning around to see all the junk behind us.

"Um... All this?" Midoriya asked, sounding a bit nervous. "But... There's so much! That's impossible!"

"Young Midoriya, you want to go to UA, right?" Dad asked.

"Well, yeah. Of course! You went there." Midoriya replied, turning to Dad. "So, it must be the best school around, right? It's a long shot, but still.... I'm gonna shoot for the moon. UA."

"You've got a lot of spirit, fanboy. But like I said earlier, heroing isn't easy to do without a quirk. It's not fair, but that's the reality. Not to mention, UA is the hardest hero course to get into." Dad told Midoriya. "So, that means..."

"I have to prepare my body for your Quirk really fast. UA's entrance exam is in ten months!" Midoriya pointed out.

"Not to worry, we've got you covered." I winked.

"With the help of my Aim To Pass: American Dream Plan!" He did not just say that.... "Follow this to the letter and the beach will be cleaned up just in time. I also detailed every other aspect of your life while I was at it." I looked at my Dad. Didn't he think that was a bit overkill? By the look on his face, Midoriya thought the same thing as he flipped through the pages of the packet my Dad had given him.

"Even my sleep is scheduled..." He trailed off.

"If I'm being honest, this is going to be super hard... Think you're up to it?" Dad asked. Midoriya looked more determined than two days prior.

"Yeah, sure I am!" Midoriya answered. "I have to work way harder than anyone else to get in. So, what choice do I have, right?"

"You won't be alone either." Dad said before clapping his hand on my shoulder. "Since Hinotori has to train to get in too, both of you will be working together." There it is...

"Wait what?! That's why you dragged me out here?" I asked, my eyes widening.

"You won't be on the same plan as Young Midoriya, but you will be working as hard as him. A few hours of your training is combined with his. Part of being a pro involves working with other heroes."

"Yeah, true..." I trailed off. "Okay, then we'll both do our best, right, Midoriya?"

"Right!"

And so, the ten months of training began...

(Taglist: @euphorical-angel dm or comment if you wanna be added to the taglist ^^ hope you enjoyed Chapter 1 of MHA: I Am Phoenix)

Next Chapter

#cannon x oc #mha #I am Phoenix #Dadmight #Hinotori Yagi

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asthmark · 4 years ago

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❝ only us ❞, n.jm

summary → it was obvious to anyone that you guys had practiced this various times. or maybe it was just natural chemistry? jaemin isn’t sure what’s worse.

request → “could you write about bestfriend jaemin getting jealous when he sees you kiss jeno for a play at school that you're in” (anon)

word count → 3k

a/n → this request made me so incredibly happy because all the knowledge i acquired my musical phase finally came in handy!! also i haven’t listened to dear evan hansen since i downloaded the illegal bootleg on my laptop like last year so i don’t remember much abt it :( i just kind of described it really vaguely lol anyway hope u enjoy ;)

jaemin dropped his backpack carelessly onto the floor of the crowded cafeteria. he set his plate down on the lunch table, not even glancing at you as he eagerly dug into his food.

“sorry i’m late,” he says to you, eyes concentrated on the orange citrus in his hand. his fingers skillfully begin peeling off the skin. “i had to stay a couple minutes after history class as punishment for eating during the lesson.”

you roll your eyes, an amused smile on your face. “disappointed but not surprised.”

at hearing this comment, he glares at you. “hey, i didn’t have breakfast today and my stomach was growling like, really loud! seriously, it sounded like a whale mating call or something.”

“and who’s fault is that?” you ask, tucking your hands beneath your chin.

he frowns as he pops an orange wedge in his mouth. “mine, i guess. but it’s only because coach told me i should eat less if i wanna play better. something about less body mass making it easier to move around the court.”

“well, i’m pretty sure he didn’t mean skipping out on entire meals, doofus,” you retort. “breakfast is the most important meal of the day, isn’t that what everyone says?”

“true.” suddenly, his eyes light up. “so, you’re gonna start bringing me breakfast in the morings?”

you raise an eyebrow. “i’m sorry, when did we decide on that?”

he flashes you one of his infamous na jaemin smiles. “just now.”

“yeah well, tell your coach you’ll be losing that weight because there’s no way i’m going to wake up at the crack of dawn just to get you a mcmuffin.”

“but it would make my mornings so much better,” he whines. “having basketball practice so early sucks but with my cute little cheerleader there it would be totally worth it... the mcdonald’s is a bonus.”

you can’t help but laugh. “sorry nana, but i prefer sleeping in over watching a bunch of sweaty guys toss a ball around at 6 a.m.”

“fine... buy me a coffee after school and i’ll let you slide.”

“maybe tomorrow, i’ve got theatre today.”

“well, after that then,” he suggests.

you shake your head. “but then you’d have to wait and we’re doing a full rehearsal today.”

he shrugs. “i can wait, i don’t have practice.”

“yeah but i know how you are, na jaemin. you have the attention span of a goldfish.”

“not when it comes to you. you always have my attention.”

you’re about to laugh at what you assumed had been a purposefully cliché one-liner on his behalf but there’s no sign that he was joking. his devilish smirk and teasing eyes that usually appeared when he flirted with the girls on campus were nowhere to be found. instead you’re met with a straight face and his glimmering eyes that seem almost expectant, concentrated on you only. it takes you by surprise. was he being serious or something? the thought alone has your heart beat steadily increasing.

“okay fine, fine. anything for you to stop staring at me like that.”

he tilts his head to the side, resembling a lost puppy. “staring at you like what?”

“like—“ you pause, debating on whether or not you should say it. “like you’re in love with me or something.”

he only chuckles. “you have no idea.”

you almost choke on your sandwich. before you have a chance to ask him what in the world he meant by that, one of his teammates from the basketball team appears behind him, stealing his attention away.

“hey jaem,” donghyuck greets as he ruffles the younger boy’s hair. “coach just called a team meeting.”

“right now?” jaemin asks, displeased.

the brunette nods, folding his arms over his chest.

jaemin suppresses a groan as he stands and grabs his belongings. “sorry y/n. i’ll see you later for your rehearsals, okay?”

you nod. “see you later, nana.”

“bye jaemin’s girlfriend!” donghyuck exclaims receiving a punch in the arm from your ��boyfriend’ although he doesn’t deny.

“i’m excited,” comments jaemin later that day. he has a bright grin on his face as you make your way through the hallway to the multipurpose room where you usually went for theatre club .

“oh really? i didn’t know you liked musicals.”

“well not really. but i like you.”

for the second time in one day, jaemin catches you off guard. you kick yourself for letting his shamelessness get to you. after all, wasn’t he like that with every girl? he had always been a charmer, you knew that before you had even met him.

na jaemin—point guard and certified flirt.

the only reason you had grown closer was due to him being in critical need of academic help and your teacher seeing you as a fit tutor. at first everyone found it amusing; the classic popular guy and quiet girl cliche. nobody had expected that you two would become practically glued by the hip. especially not you. maybe that was why you were so opposed to jaemin flirting with you. you were best friends but you knew how he was: not interested but never one to turn down any kind of attention. there was just no way that among so many girls you would be an exception.

“well, i hope you can like me for two hours because that’s probably how long this is gonna take,” you say, trying to move the conversation forward.

“i already told you, i have nowhere to be!” he exclaims. “besides, when would i ever turn down an opportunity to stare at you for a couple hours?”

you can’t help but roll you eyes, playfully. “please refrain from using any of your cheesy pick up lines on me while we’re there.”

“why?” he whines. “are you embarrassed of me?” when you turn to look at him he’s making those ridiculous puppy eyes that he knows you find hilarious.

you snort at seeing the familiar face. “when you do that, definitely.”

“alright fine. i’ll try to be on my best behavior in front of your little theatre friends.”

“thank you.” despite not believing a word he says, you still push open the door leading to the multipurpose room.

before you even get one foot in the door, your cast mate is already in your face.

“y/n, finally!” he says, looking beyond relieved at your presence. “i thought you’d never come! c’mon, you gotta change into your costume so we can start.”

“it’s not even opening night, jeno, calm down!” you say, laughing. “and i’m only a couple minutes late, it’s fine.”

he frowns. “you know how anxious i get. everything needs to be perfect.”

“yeah i know, sorry renjun.”

jeno makes a face, showcasing his disgust with your comment that compared him to your strict director. “shut up, you’re gonna summon him.”

“summon who?”

speak of the devil.

you shake your head at renjun who has appeared besides jeno. “not important.”

he smiles sarcastically, brushing his blonde bangs out of his face. “oh good. so can we move on to the actually important things now? like how you’re 6 minutes late?”

you sigh. “i had to wait outside jaemin’s class that’s on the other side of campus, sorry.”

but renjun doesn’t seem to care about your apology. instead, his attention has shifted to jaemin who stands behind you, hands stuffed into his pockets and eyes curiously observing the interactions between you and your friends.

“hello there.” your director moves past you, extending his hand towards your best friend which he takes awkwardly. “pleasure to meet you. you’re on the basketball team, right? i heard you scored the winning touchdown at the last game. congrats!”

“um, it’s just called a point in basketball but... thank you.”

renjun ignores jaemin’s correction. “is it your first time visiting the theater club?”

the brunette nods.

“oh, that’s wonderful! do you plan on coming to see our play on the 15th of this month?”

jaemin scratches the back of his head. “um... to be honest, i didn’t even know you guys had one coming up.”

renjun laughs, harder than usual. “that’s quite alright. it’s called ‘dear evan hansen’. it’s about the trials of high school life for a depressed teen who’s caught in a huge lie.” his hands fly around wildly, using them for emphasis as he dramatically explains the plot to jaemin. “you should come support us!”

“well, i would love t—“

“great! entry is $10.00, cash only. and definitely invite the rest of the basketball team!” with that, renjun rushes off, shouting something about how that was ‘exactly how to sell tickets for the play’ to the rest of the staff.

jaemin gives you a confused stare. “what just happened?”

you chuckle and give him a pat on the back. “you just experienced firsthand what we call here at the theater club the huang renjun effect. never fails to suck somebody into buying tickets for our shows.”

“well, now i kinda wanna buy one.” he turns to you, his eyes widening so big it’s comical. “wow, he’s good.”

“he’s more of a salesman than a director, that’s what you always say, right?” you turn to jeno who nods at the statement. “oh, this is jeno, by the way. he’s one of the few people around here who is not crazy.”

jeno waves at jaemin who smiles weakly at him, too busy observing his physique to say anything. his costume consisted of a blue polo shirt that made his biceps and veiny arms much more prominent. the shirt was pretty tight as well, making his toned chest and torso visible to just about anyone. the khakis he wore were fitted and his thick thighs were impossible to ignore. jaemin can’t help but wonder what a guy with his body was doing in a theatre club when he could be such a useful player on the court.

he looks up at his face, his cheeks curved into a smile that reached his squinted eyes. he would admit, he was a good looking dude. he then glances at you and realizes—you spent almost everyday with jeno. he feels guilty for it but he can’t stop himself from feeling slightly threatened by your cast mate.

jeno clears his throat, trying to ignore the awkward silence that has settled upon the three of you. “um, it was nice meeting you.” he shifts his attention to you. “i’m gonna finish getting ready.”

once he has left, you let out a giggle that you had been holding in during the entire exchange. “what’s the matter? you got all choked up just now. look, i know jeno’s hot but you gotta keep your cool just like the rest of us, okay?”

he frowns as he folds his arms over his chest, your last comment only fueling his feelings. “quit teasing me.”

“aw c’mon, you know i gotta give you a hard time,” you say, knocking his shoulder with yours. “it’s my duty as your best friend.”

before he can even respond, renjun’s voice is heard, being amplified by the megaphone in his hand. “rehearsals will start in 15 minutes instead of 5 because y/n wants to chit-chat with her friend instead of going to hair and makeup!”

you scowl at having been called out. “alright, i’ve gotta go get ready. please enjoy the show, though, okay?”

jaemin nods, smiling at seeing the genuine glint in your eyes. “of course.”

you were reaching the half point of the musical and jaemin had already cried twice.

with the looks he was receiving from the stage crew and even some of the cast members up on stage, he could tell they hadn’t expected him to be as emotional as he was but he couldn’t help it. the play was incredibly sad and he found himself not even knowing who to pity.

there was jeno’s character, evan hansen, who was stuck in a hole he had dug himself into but there was still a bit of him that was innocent and so helpless.

then there was connor murphy played by a kid named park jisung, who had only been around for a couple of scenes since his character was so tormented he had taken his life at the beginning of the play.

there were many other supporting roles, such as family members or friends and they all seemed to have their own issues but the character that truly got to him was yours.

you were playing zoe murphy, connor’s sister who was grappling with the death of her brother the entire musical, not sure whether to mourn him or remember him for the abusive person he was. in fact, your performance had tugged at jaemin’s heart strings so intensely that your solo song was the reason he had cried the first time around.

your acting skills had impressed him and your vocals left him stunned. all the times you and him had carpooled and sung the songs on the radio at the top of your lungs, he had never noticed your heavenly pipes. now that he had, he could feel himself becoming even more into you, if that was possible.

he sat on the edge of his seat, eyes focused intently on you and jeno as the 10th song began. as soon as the sound of the soft piano begins, jaemin prepares himself to shed tears once more but to his surprise, it seemed to be taking a more romantic turn.

he could only watch as you and jeno sang about being together and not letting go of each other... basically saying everything he wanted to tell you. he knew it was all a part of the act but seeing a guy as perfect as jeno pour his feelings out to you as you watched him with heart eyes and sang about how mutual it was proved to be incredibly tough. it made him feel like all his shameless flirts and stares that were too long to be just friendly were useless. why couldn’t making you his be as easy as jeno was making it seem?

before he can beat himself up for it anymore you and jeno lock lips. it isn’t just a quick peck, either. your hand tangles itself into his gelled back hair and his hand ends up on your waist as your lips move against each other, rhythmically. it was obvious to anyone that you guys had practiced this various times. or maybe it was just natural chemistry? jaemin isn’t sure what’s worse. all he knows is that he can’t take another second of watching you two engage in your passionate kiss when all he wishes is that he were in jeno’s shoes.

so, without a second thought he gets up and rushes out the door. he doesn’t look back at you because he doesn’t want to see the confusion and disappointment that will surely be on your face. he doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of his childish actions. he doesn’t stop running until he reaches the gym and takes a seat in the bleachers. he doubles over, head in his hands as he pants heavily in an attempt to catch his breath.

shortly after, much to his surprise, the door swings open and there you stand.

“what are you doing here?” he asks, sitting up straight.

“me? what about you, jaemin?” you approach him, slowly. “you just ran out of the room, for god’s sake. everyone’s worried, i’m worried.”

he feels another wave of guilt wash over him for interrupting your rehearsal and going against the one thing he said he was going to do: behave. “please go back. i’m fine, y/n. just needed a breather.”

“oh no,” you say walking up the stairs to the top row of bleachers where your best friend sits. “don’t ‘i’m fine, y/n’ me. you are most definitely not fine.” once you reach him you take a seat to his left, making sure to leave a generous space between you and him. “what happened back there? i swear, if renjun said anything to you i’ll personally make sure he never looks in your direction again.”

“no, it’s not that.” he pauses. “you and jeno were just—“ he trails off, his throat going dry.

you carefully place a hand on his arm, letting him know you would wait for anything he had to say.

“you were just really convincing.”

“well, isnt that a good thing?”

“it was... too much for me to see,” he confesses.

“so, what you’re saying is it’s too unrealistic? do we need to tone it down a bit?”

he nearly groans in frustration. “it’s not that! i wanted to be him, y/n! i want to feel your lips and hear about how much you want me!”

you retract your hand from his arm. “are you serious right now?”

he shoots you a harsh look and you notice how his eyes are glossed over, confirming just how serious he was. he gets up to leave, accepting his rejection before you grab his arm again and yank him down. he lands back on the bench and stares at you, visibly puzzled.

“if you would have waited a second longer you would know how badly i want those things too, you goldfish.”

the tears in his eyes fall but he still shoots you a toothy grin, showing he was anything but unhappy. you bring your hand up to his face, your thumb softly rubbing away the wet stains on his cheek. he unconsciously leans into your touch, never once breaking eye contact. once he’s had enough of delicate touches, he pulls you into his chest and you breathe in his scent—peppermint and coffee.

“i’m sorry.”

“for what?”

“for basically trading spit with jeno right in front of you.”

“it’s alright, baby... let me be the only person you practice that kiss scene with and i’ll let you slide.”

“deal.”

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its-monster-mash · 4 years ago

Text

Paul(The Lost Boys) X Michael’s Ex!Fem!Reader Imagine(Part 1)

Content Warnings: Vaguely Love-Triangley? (Reader and Michael are still good friends and broke up a while before Mike moved, but things are a little awkward because they were each other’s first serious relationship; so he’s more protective than he needs to be, and there might be a few hurt feelings, but I wouldn’t quite call it a love triangle), Brief Sexual Harassment

Part 2

This turned out SUPER long so I’m putting it under a readmore; also I think I’m going to make it a series because I want to go a lot further with this but I suspect I’m going to run out of space soon

• Michael Emerson had been your best friend since you were kids, growing up in Phoenix only a ten minute walk from eachother...if you knew the right shortcuts. You knew all of them, thought you knew everything when you were younger, and you got yourself and Mike into a fair amount of trouble because of it...but he had always been a good kid, and was able to temper your more destructive elements.

• It surprised exactly no one when the two of you eventually started dating, nor did it surprise them when you broke up a few years later. You had always been inseparable, and the love had always been there, but over time you just couldn’t help but feel stifled. You had spent your entire teen years with him, and so many people liked to joke that Mike tamed you...at the rate you were going it seemed like sundresses, picket fences, and a couple of kids weren’t far off in your future...and that scared you.

• Mike was heartbroken when you left him, and for the first few weeks he absolutely held it against you, but due to your shared friends and history your friendship survived. Unfortunately, his parents’ divorce separated your iconic duo once again.

• When Mike’s dad showed up on your doorstep a few days after the move, you tore him a new one for basically abandoning his sons. He set a box on your porch, Mike’s Tools...his Grandpa gave them to him when he was just a little kid and they were one of his most treasured possessions...they were forgotten in the chaos of the move...His dad thought you might visit him sometime...

• That’s what led to you hopping in your shitass El Camino and making the drive to Santa Carla. Lucy had given you their new address before they left...you knew she hoped that maybe you and Mike would get back together some day, but that just wasn’t in the cards. At the end of the day he was just too good, too normal, for you.

• Driving through Santa Carla, you can’t help but be drawn to the sheer...strangeness of it all. Looking at the people, you feel like you actually fit in here. You definitely plan on hanging around the town for a while.

• Mike isn’t home when you get to his Grandpa’s house, but his mom could not be happier to see you. It’s a bittersweet reunion for you; she had been more of a mother to you growing up than your own parents, but after breaking her son’s heart you just don’t feel like it‘s right for you to call her “Mom” like you used to. She has a million questions, and she even suggests you stay with them for a while...you politely decline.

• You didn’t tell her that sleeping in your beat-up old car was preferable to her hospitality, but it would just be too weird, with how recent your breakup was. You and Mike are still friends, but you think sleeping under the same roof might be weird for him

• You still want to see him though, so you decide to explore the town on foot for a while; maybe run into him. You’re wandering around when you hear a familiar voice coming from the open door of a comic book store.

• As soon as you walk in you see the unmistakably garish patterns of Sammy Emerson’s signature style and break into a wide smile. “Long time no see, huh kid?” Almost the second he sees you he practically knocks you over with a hug, backing away in embarrassment after a second of thought. You and Mike were already best friends by the time he was born, so Sam was almost as much your little brother as he is Mike’s.

• “Now What was that about Vampires?” You had overheard Sam and the Frog brothers when you walked into the store...Sam rolls his eyes, and the Frogs assail you with some insane story about how the town is overrun with vampires. Some imaginations these kids have.

• You bail out of there pretty quick in favor of wandering the boardwalk, seeing what Santa Carla had to offer...before you know it, the sun is starting to set

• Maybe going out alone in “The Murder Capital of The World” wasn’t your smartest decision, but you weren’t exactly known for your self preservation; that had always been Mike’s job...but he isn’t here now.

• You grimace as you notice a group of surfers take notice of you. You had wandered a bit aways from the main crowd, so you aren’t sure anyone would notice if things went south... “Hey Sweetie.”

• “Get Bent.” You sneer as they close in on you. “Awe well that’s not very polite,” the leader says, giving your ass a firm squeeze. “You should try being a little nicer.”

• You humor him with the sweetest smile you can muster as you stomp as hard as you can on his foot. He calls you a bitch and you flinch as his fist flies toward you.

• You open your eyes when the hit never comes, and are shocked to see that someone had caught the guy’s fist. You look up at him and your cheeks flush; when was the last time you saw a guy this handsome? “This guy bothering you, babe?” He asks as he squeezes the guy’s fist so tight you hear something pop. The guy falls to his knees and gasps in pain as his friends back away nervously. You smile wickedly. “Not anymore.”

• You watch the douchbags storm away with their wounded pride, shouting empty threats, only distracted when your Knight in Shining Tight-Pants tucks your hair affectionately behind your ear. “So what’s a pretty thing like you doing alone in a town like this?”

• You bite your lip, eyeing him appreciatively; now that you could get a good look at him you can tell he is definitely your type...and you hadn’t been with anyone since you broke things off with Michael. “Hoping to run into an old friend, but I haven’t seen him.”

• He grins, clearly appreciating your look. “That’s too bad, wanna make some new friends?” His eyes are fixed on you with a certain hunger, there’s a palpable danger to him; it excites you.

• You shift your stance flirtatiously, leaning into him ever so slightly. “That depends, are they all as cute as you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek with an amused grin. “Almost.”

• He takes your mischievous smirk as agreement, and throws an arm around you, leading you back to where his friends are gathered by their bikes. “This the chick you ditched us for?” The curly-headed blond asks, humor in his tone.

• “Well I for one am grateful for the timely rescue.” You grin. “How grateful?” The blond on the bike asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively; making you laugh. Your hero slaps at him playfully, and the favor is returned.

• Seemingly the leader of the group, the spiky-headed blond interrupts the roughhousing. “Paul, Marko, knock it off and let’s go.”

• Paul nods, climbing onto his bike and grinning at you seductively. “You wanna go for a ride, babe?”

• His smile is infectious, and his innuendo isn’t lost on you. Maybe it’s not your safest decision, but you climb on the back of his bike; earning a loud “HELL YES.” From him, and hooting and hollering from Marko.

• “Make sure you hold on tight babe, I’m about to take you on a ride you’ll never forget.” “Shut up and drive,” you tease as you wrap your arms tightly around his midsection.

• They all laugh deviously as they rev their motors to life, and you’re glad you’re holding on tight, nearly falling off when they take off from 0 to 100. “HOLY SHIT!” “What’s the matter sweetheart, can’t handle a little speed?”

• “That all you got?!” You ask, acting tough. It was a mistake though. “That all you got, Paul?” Marko asks, mocking you. “I dunno girl, I think that’s all he’s got.” The big brunette says, first time he’s spoken since you met the boys. “Fuck off, Dwayne!” Paul shouts. The leader gives his engine a rev, egging Paul on. You scream, forced to cling tightly to his back as his bike tears into the night. Marko pulls up next to you, mimicking you with a falsetto squeal.

• “Damn babe, already screaming for me,” Paul teases over the roar of his motor. You’d sass him back if you weren’t too busy burying your face in his back for dear life. You’d ridden on the back of Mike’s bike plenty of times before, but he was never this reckless. You’re as terrified as you are thrilled.

• By the time you start to get used to the speed, the boys are slowing down, and much to your surprise, they pull right up to Michael, who is standing with a girl you haven’t met. His eyes snap to you instantly and go wide with confusion, he hadn’t even been aware you’d come to town. “(Y/N)?”

• “This that friend you were looking for?” Paul asks. “Yeah, (Y/N), care to introduce us to Star’s new friend?” “David please.” You watch the exchange a bit uncomfortably, shifting on the bike, arms still around Paul. “Yeah...Hey Mike, I uh, your old man dropped your tools off at my place so I took them up to your mom.” Your chest feels impossibly tight. You aren’t jealous to see him with a new girl, but you had hoped that maybe he’d be a little happier to see you here...and him, the earring and that jacket...it doesn’t feel like Mike at all. Paul can feel you shrink against him.

• “Hope I’m not stepping on any toes here,” Paul says, giving your thigh an unsubtle squeeze; deliberately antagonizing Michael. You smile a bit awkwardly as Mike scratches the back of his head in discomfort. Star looks between the two of you, avoiding eye contact with David. “No, Mike and I used to date but...” “But it’s over,” Mike says, a bit too shortly, trying to cover the awkwardness with an unconvincing smile.

• David shoots him a not-all together-friendly look. “Well, you seem to be moving on well enough,” he says, gesturing to Star, who shrinks beside him. “So’s (Y/N),” Paul interjects, looking over his shoulder to smile at you. You smile back at him, despite the awkwardness.

• “We should go, Star,” David urges. Star hesitates, but climbs on the back of his bike. Michael looks mortified, and you can’t help but feel awful for him. You’re shocked when David nods his head toward Mike’s bike. “Come with us, Michael.”

• You know the look on Mike’s face; his first instinct is to back out, avoid trouble...but then he looks at you, and he looks at Star; like he’s worried what will happen to you if he doesn’t come along. “Mike,” You don’t have to come, you start to say, feeling Paul tense in your arms. “I’m coming.”

• “This is gonna be so sick,” Marko says with a practically manic grin, before Dwayne swats him upside the head. “Don’t be an ass.”

• “Don’t forget, (Y/N), hold on tight,” Paul says, side eyeing Michael a little less than subtly. Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug apologetically. This is awkward, for sure, but one way or another you want to see this through. Paul and the boys seem cool as hell, and at the very least seem like a good way to get back on the horse after getting over a long relationship.

• You squeeze Paul a little tighter, heart pounding against his back. He revs his engine. “You ready, babe?”

#Spotify #mypost #the lost boys #music tag #paul lost boys #I DID NOT EXPECT TO MAKE THIS SO LONG #I thought this would be a lot more condensed but I’m liking it a lot so I’m drawing stuff out more than originally intended #probably will do at least one more part #I LOVE Paul #and I want to have an emotional scene between Reader and Michael where Reader worries that his ‘new look’ is because she dumped him for-#-being too good of a guy #he’ll kind of joke with her like ‘No don’t worry my first love leaving me for not being a bad boy right before my parent’s divorce didn’t-#-fuck me up at all’#and then he’ll clarify that no; the breakup made him realize that he DID want to make his life more exciting and reinvent/explore himself-#-since he had to start life over in a new town #Mike is SLIGHTLY an ass in this chapter but I do want to Emphasize that he and reader were VERY close friends before they ever thought-#-about dating and are still friends now #It’s just a bit complicated now that they HAVE dated #Mike probably thought they were going to get married some day #so cut him some slack this is hard for him lol #the lost boys imagines

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