#Why can't any bands i like come anywhere near me

[pogatog]

I'm really excited for the concert but also so incredibly annoyed that I'm going to be spending $600+ to see a $35 show

Guess I'm going to Seattle

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 7: It's Not A Date

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This chapter is just a little bit smaller than the others and it's a little bit of a filler, but I promise that it is preparing for the coming angst!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“I can’t believe you let him around those children. What were you thinking?” Annie asks wielding a curling iron like a sword. "He's a terrible influence!"

It was t-minus one hour and thirty minutes before the party started and Annie was doing your hair and makeup for the mission. Butcher decided that Ben and you would infiltrate and see if you could find anything suspicious inside, while Butcher, Frenchie, and Mm watched the streets outside the building.

Your chair was turned away from the scuffed vanity in Hughie's bedroom at the apartment the team shared. Why he had that you weren't sure, but you figured it must be for Annie. Her makeup bag, hair spray, gel, cream, curler, flat iron, and other paraphernalia was littering the soft butter colored top. There were more things sitting there than you knew the names of.

Annie had always been better at things like that than you. She'd done your hair and makeup for every high school dance and date you went on, so you'd agreed to let her do your hair and makeup for the mission. Not to mention you trusted her not to make you look too over the top or absolutely ridiculous.

As soon as she had gotten you into Hughie's bedroom she had practically pounced on you, demanding to know everything about the past few days that you had spent living in the apartment with Ben. You'd foolishly told her that you'd had to babysit the Wilson's children last night and she was horrified that you let them anywhere near him.

Granted you also would have had the same reaction if someone had told you that they had let Soldier Boy around little children.

But he wasn't terrible to them. You think to yourself. He was actually kind of sweet. It was the first time that you'd ever associate that word with Ben, but you believed that it was true. You remember how he sat with Marty at the kitchen table and allowed her to make a friendship bracelet for him. A bracelet, that he hadn't thrown away, despite what he'd told you after she gave it to him. You'd found it on the sink in the bathroom this morning when you got up, given a place of honor in the ceramic jewelry dish you used for your bracelets.

After Ben had gone out on his "date" you'd cleaned up, made your last cup of noodle, and then went to bed hoping to forget exactly what Ben was doing. The problem was that you were disappointed and you had no idea why. You'd tossed and turned thinking about Ben and the time you'd spent together watching the kids, until finally falling into an unsatisfying slumber.

Ben had sauntered through the front door at 3 am smelling like perfume and sweat, his hair tousled and standing up like someone had ran their fingers through it, while you were drinking a calming herbal tea from your favorite mug at the kitchen table in a post-nightmare haze. You'd had them your whole life following the accident that took the lives of your parents and was thankful that one hadn't hit when Ben was home. You didn't want to explain to him why you had woken up screaming and gasping for air just as you’d done since you were twelve years old.

When you'd first moved in to the apartment and you'd had the nightmare, Mike had banged against your front door, shouting for you to answer. He'd thought that someone was trying to kill you in the middle of the night, but you'd explained to him that you had nightmares and that you were okay.

The next time it happened, Mike's mother had left a large basket of herbal tea and homemade muffins outside the door of your apartment. Even though the muffins were almost inedible, it was incredibly sweet. You might not have wanted to date Mike, but he and his mother were some of the sweetest people you'd ever met.

When he saw you up, Ben had made a comment about you waiting up for him and stated that he was ready to go again if that's what you wanted, but you'd only waved your hand and rolled your eyes while taking another sip from the mug. You weren’t in the mood, not when you could still feel the chill of sweat against your skin and hear the sound of metal on concrete from the dream. He had sat at the table across from you and asked why you were still awake, you'd lied and told him that you couldn't sleep. You knew that he knew you were lying, but he only shrugged and went to take a shower while you finished your tea and fled to your bedroom to avoid him coming out in a towel again.

"He wouldn't leave. What was I supposed to do? Make him walk the plank?" You respond as Annie inserts the warm curling iron into your hair.

"He's just so-" She tugs your hair back as she curls it.

"It wasn't as bad as you think.” You consider thinking about how he let Martha make him a friendship bracelet and how he had held Joshua and made Joshua laugh. "He was actually kind of nice to Marty and to Josh.”

"Nice? Are you crazy! The guy's got a nuclear reactor in his chest and an uncontrollable temper. Why do you think it would be okay for him to be around children?”

"He didn't get angry or lose control. And I can't believe you're chastising me about this, the other day you were all for Ben and me sleeping together!"

"That wouldn't involve children." She takes another piece of your hair, gently wrapping it around the curling iron.

"Yeah, but it would still be him close to another human being-"

“He seems to be perfectly in control when he has sex. Or else there would be a string of destroyed apartments all over manhattan.”

"I can't believe you." You huff.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Have you guys kissed again?" She asks.

"I shouldn't have told you that." You grumble under your breath. "And can you keep your voice down? Ben can hear you."

He was in his old bedroom getting ready for the mission. The bedroom was exactly next to Annie and Hughie's bedroom, and you were sure that he was listening to Annie and you talk.

Because he can't keep his big nose out of anything. You think. Or rather can't keep his perfectly structured nose out of other people's business.

"I'm sure he has better things to do than listen to the two of us talk." Annie responds, but she begins to blast the ABBA gold album from her Bluetooth speaker, filling the room with the sound of 'Our Last Summer' "Come on-"

"Come on what?" You open one of your eyes to glare at her. "I told you it wasn't going to happen again."

"Why not?"

"You know why not. Ben is- Ben. And I don't want to waste my time with someone who's not interested in having a relationship." You shut your eye again to avoid her gaze.

"It's not a waste of time if he looks like that-" She trails off, inserting the curling iron one more time.

"I will agree that Ben is good-looking, but that's all he is. He doesn't care about other people, he only cares about himself and what feels good." You say it, but for the first time since you'd met Ben you weren't sure if it was true. Not after he spent his entire day yesterday helping you with the kids and not after he had bought you that bookshelf.

He cared enough to get that for you. A little voice whispers. But why? You wonder again. Why would he care about something as little as a bookshelf?

"You're making that face again." Annie says. "Did something happen?"

"No. I mean- he-" You sigh to yourself. "He keeps confusing me."

"How?"

"Well the other day he bought me a bookshelf."

"What? Why?"

"Because he said that stack of books in my bedroom was annoying him." You roll your eyes behind your eyelids.

"Why was he in your bedroom?" Annie's smirk is audible and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Shut up. He needed some clothes and I had some from the last time Darren stayed with me-"

Annie audibly groans when you mention your brother's name. They didn't get along. She thought that he was manipulative and that he used you. But you didn't see it. He was your brother, your blood, the only family you had left beside your grandmother and Annie.

"Please tell me he's not coming by soon. If he does I will be busy doing anything else."

"I don't know why the two of you can't just get along-" You sigh.

"Because he's the worst." Annie states loudly, dropping the curling iron and bringing the mascara brush up to your eyes.

"Can we please not have this conversation again?"

"Fine. Close." Annie holds up the mascara brush to your eyes. "Did you at least join one of those online dating apps or try to go on a date?"

"It’s been 3 days since we last talked about this-“ You feel the gentle stroke of the brush against your eyelashes.

“So?”

“No I haven’t.”

"Y/n-"

"I know, I know. I mean Jake did try to ask me out the other day but-"

"He WHAT?" Annie squeals, awkwardness about your brother forgotten. "Next time lead with that! Did you go out with him? Did you guys talk all night long?" Annie is hoping from foot to foot now, practically dancing to the music still blasting from the speaker on the dresser.

"I said no." You open your eyes to look at your friend.

"WHAT! Why?" She looks like you kicked a puppy. "He's so perfect for you! He likes plants and he's funny and he's got a great sense of humor, plus he's gorgeous and he's interested in you-"

"First he wanted to do something today and I knew Butcher had plans for me. Second, I didn't know he was asking me out, Ben told me he was." You close your eyes again so Annie can continue to do your makeup.

"Wait, Ben was there when he asked you out?" 

"We went to IKEA to get a couch for the apartment and Jake showed up and asked me out." You explain.

"You took Ben to IKEA?"

"He'd never gone there before, can you believe that?" It made you smile as you remembered how surprised he had been when you went inside. You’d had fun with him, walking around, testing out the couches, it almost felt… normal. And you kind of got the impression that Ben had a good time too. It was kind of cute when he did everyday things, when you saw him in normal settings and he was just a little bit awkward because he still couldn't figure out how to act in another time period.

"Yes I can, he's a million years old. Let's circle back to you saying no to the PERFECT man."

"He's not a million." You defend Ben. "And Jake's not perfect." You frown to yourself, thinking about the fact that Jake wasn't a supe. It wasn't something that you had cared about before, but ever since Ben brought up the idea of you "snapping Jake in half" it scared you.

Because what if I did? What if I hurt him? You didn’t know how Ben had sex so often with people who weren't supes. Maybe he just doesn't care if he does. Or maybe he’s done it so much that he’s able to control himself.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked him?"

"I mean I do. He's kind and he understands me and he loves plants as much as I do, but-" You shrug, feeling Annie begin to apply eyeliner. "I don't want to make things complicated. I mean we work together, he’s my boss. What if it doesn’t work out? Then I’d have to quit and I like my job.”

“I mean that’s kind of hot-“

“Hot in what? A sexual harassment kind of way?”

“No. It’s not harassment if it’s two consenting adults.”

“I’m still not sure that it’s a good idea.” You mutter more to yourself. But this time your mind didn’t go to Jake and you having a relationship even though he was your boss, instead it goes right to Ben. You can't help but slip into the fantasy of dating Ben, of you and him trying something new-

You shake off the image. He doesn’t want a relationship, doesn’t think that’s important. The thought is almost like a mantra, trying to convince yourself to push past Ben’s charm and good looks, but this time it makes you consider something else. Maybe he doesn’t think it’s important now, but maybe he used to think it was before Countess.

You’d heard the stories, seen the newspaper articles and clips of film of Ben and her together, remembered what Hughie said that Ben had wanted a family with her that Ben had told her that he loved her. That meant at some point in Ben’s life he had loved someone else, cared for them, wanted to be more than just fuck buddies.

Maybe he's just afraid to fall again, because he's not sure someone else will be there to catch him. Maybe Ben doesn't want to admit that he cares for anyone else because he's afraid that they'll push him away or stab him in the back the way that Countess did. And maybe he hides it all underneath the macho attitude.

Ben is strong. He told me that he didn't need anyone else. You press your lips together in a tight line. But I think he does.

You hated that she’d hurt him. You hated that she’d pushed him away, told him she never loved him, and stabbed him in the back. You couldn’t imagine doing that to someone, telling them that you loved them, and manipulating them with the promise of love. It almost made you nauseous to consider it. It made you want to travel back in time to the moment she stabbed him in the back and shove a bouquet of sunflowers up where the sun don't shine.

You pause on the thought. You weren't a terribly violent person, but if someone ever hurt your friends your anger was legendary, practically divine. You'd never thought that you'd want to do something for Ben, but you were realizing more and more that Ben was becoming your friend. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

“Alright what if he wasn’t your boss.” Annie gently brushes eyeshadow over your eyelids. “Then would you go out with him?”

“But he is my boss.”

“Use your imagination.”

The song has ended and there’s an awkward pause between the end of it and the slow beginning of the next one.

“I mean yes?” You shrug. “I can see myself with him. He’s the kind of person I’d want to date. He cares about other people, he remembers what kind of coffee I like, he actually contributes to the conversation, he makes me laugh, he actually gets my jokes, he’s nice to sit with, he doesn’t get under my skin-“ As you list each of those things you couldn't stop your mind from comparing Jake to Ben. You didn't know when Ben became the level by which you judged other men, but it had happened sometime in the past few days and you didn't know what it meant.

But Ben did remember what kind of coffee I like and he does contribute to conversations, well, he contributes with a disgusting comment… The thought trails off when you remember the small conversations that you'd had with Ben that weren't sexual in nature, when the two of you watched the movie on the couch and talked briefly about your parents, when Ben asked you how your day was the other day back at the apartment, and when the two of you talked on the couch while the children slept between the two of you. In those moments you had seen another side of Ben, the side that he seemed to hide away from everyone else, but not from you, not all the time.

Plus Ben is kind of funny sometimes, disgusting but funny. Doesn’t understand my jokes. And yes he gets under my skin but sometimes it’s kind of exciting and nice to have that happen. With Jake sometimes he’s just too happy or too eager to agree with me.

"Hmm." Annie considers. "How did Ben react when Jake asked you out?”

You don’t answer immediately. “Normal.”

"You hesitated"

"No I didn’t."

"Yes you did! He reacted didn’t he?!” Annie pokes you with her finger

"No he didn’t.” You lie.

“He did! Holy shit he was jealous wasn’t he?”

"No he wasn’t.” You swat her hand away. "He was just opinioned."

He sure looked jealous. You think to yourself remembering the way he glared at Jake from the other side of the room. The memory of the way his eyes darkened when he told you exactly why he wasn't jealous and exactly what he would do to you to make you forget all about Jake sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Yeah. Opinionated over why you shouldn't go out with Jake because Ben wants you all to himself." Annie crows.

"Shut-"

"But it doesn't matter. Because Ben's going to have a heart attack when he sees you wearing this." Annie steps back from you. "My work here is done. Try to make it to the mission without ripping each other's clothes off."

"We are not going to-"

Annie spins your chair back to the mirror and your next words dry up.

Your hair is perfectly curled back from your face, the lipstick is a dark shade of crimson that makes your lips look fuller and more plump, the eye make up is dark and dusky making the color of your eyes pop against the darkness in a mysterious alluring way that seems almost hypnotic, and your face is shaded and contoured so well that you look dangerous and sexy.

"I'll take the silence as a 'Thank you Annie! You're so beautiful and talented and you're the best friend I've ever had!'" She laughs, standing back behind you with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I mean all of that is true, but-" You stand up from the chair to get a better look. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Well thank you. Had to. It's your first date with Ben." She makes goo-goo eyes and you try to punch her in the shoulder, but she dodges it.

"Shut up. It's not." You look down at the dress that Butcher picked out for you to wear. "I love you, but I hate Butcher."

The dress was a red scrap of fabric that clung to your curves, but left very little to the imagination. It was completely backless with an exaggerated wrinkle that fell just over the top of your ass. The front was sinched at the back of your neck secured only by a small piece of fabric that you were afraid would break at any moment and fell open in a "v" that stopped just under the swell of your breasts. There was a large prominent slit that cut up the left side of the floor length gown that stopped just shy of the top of your thigh. Annie had cinched a black choker around your neck to match the black pair of stilettos you wore

Personally, you though that the stilettos were overkill, you had no idea how the hell you were going to run after the supe if you saw him, let alone fight him.

"You look so hot." Annie says pleased. "You really should wear that all the time babe. I'd take you out to dinner just to show you off."

"You're the worst." You groan.

"I love you too honey." She winks. "Now come on. Butcher and the others are waiting for us." She turns off the speaker and walks out the door of the bedroom, but you linger there, looking at yourself in the mirror one more time.

You'd never worn anything remotely like this before, but even you had to admit, you looked good.

“Come on Poppet. You can’t hide in there forever.” Butcher chuckles from the living room.

He’s having too much fun with this. You huff to yourself finally leaving the bedroom to make your grand entrance, grabbing the black bejeweled clutch as you do.

Butcher, Frenchie, Annie, and Hughie are waiting outside the door while Kimiko sits on the couch scribbling away.

Hughie's mouth drops open,  Butcher gives an approving shrug, and Frenchie lets out a breath.

"You look beautiful." Frenchie takes your hand and gives you an appreciative twirl.

"Shut up." Your cheeks redden.

Hughie is still looking speechless at you. "I told you." Annie states elbowing him with a proud smile.

“You look-“ Hughie stutters.

“Good enough to eat.” Ben finishes, appearing in the hallway to your right. His hand traces the curve of your hip, thumb ghosting over your bare back.

“Just because I’m dressed like a hooker, doesn’t mean my brain’s not working.”  You slap his hand away ignoring the warm feeling that remains where he touched you. You could feel your heart beat begin to pick up in your chest.

“Baby I love your brain-“ Ben smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t love your body more.”

You felt your cheeks turn the same shade as your dress with his compliment before you can stop them. It was difficult to pretend that you didn't feel any attraction for him, not when he looked so good.

He had trimmed his beard and brushed back his dark hair, so you could see his emerald colored eyes gleaming. He was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt, but chose not to wear a black tie, instead unbuttoning the top few buttons to give just a hint of his muscular chest beneath.

Why does he have to look so good all the damn time?

“Shut up.” You grumble turning back to Butcher. “So are you happy? I dressed up, my IQ dropped a billion points.”

“Ecstatic poppet.” Butcher grins taking a sip from the cup of tea in his hand. “Now remember anything happens, you detain the supe, no killing."

“He’s talking to you.” You elbow Ben.

Ben shrugs. “I won't apologize for doing my job."

You sigh again and walk towards where Kimiko is writing in one of her workbooks on the couch. 

"You look hot." She signs at you.

It had been difficult to learn the sign language she used, but you liked to think that you had a handle on it so you could understand simple conversations. When things got too confusing she would use her phone.

"I know. I was mad at Butcher at first for picking this dress, but I kind of like it." You sign back. "Don’t tell Butcher I said that."

She crosses her fingers over her heart. "Soldier Boy is looking at you."

"He’s always looking at me. I'm glad I can't read minds. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking."

Kimiko snorts, raising her hand to sign "I think the look on his face says it all."

You half turn and look at where Ben is again, he’s not talking to Butcher like you thought he was, he’s staring at you, pupils dilated, eyes darkening in a way that makes your heart feel like it's beating so hard it'll explode out of your ribcage.

No. No. Keep it together. Heart of a warrior.

"You two have fun!" Annie smirks widely, taking a picture of Ben and you like you're going to prom and you know she's going to send the photo to taunt you with it later.

“Shall we?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Ladies first.” Ben smirks.

 You roll your eyes at him as you walk to the front door of the apartment. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman Gramps. We both know you just want to look at my ass.”

“I’ll never get tired of looking Doll, especially not when you’re wearing something like that.”

A/N: I know this chapter is a little bit of a filler, but I wanted to give Annie and the reader some time together, aka. Annie telling the reader to do the one thing that we ALL know she should do. 😂

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry

[bahrtofane]

here we go again - pt.1

pt. 2 , pt.3

jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader

empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again.

word count : 1K+

watch it : mild fluff, heavy on the angst, situationships, toxic relationships, Jude is kinda an ass in this one sorry, not very happy ending

happy valentines day LOL

—--

you and Jude have a complex history, complex relationship. 

you aren't officially together but at the same time you are exclusive. it's odd, but it's what works at the moment, (even if you wish he would just grow the balls to make you his already.)

you get he's a busy guy, top player both club and international. you aren't going to force him to choose you or make him get with you while his career is soon about to peak. 

your wishes for more soon fade into the background as he presses gentle kisses into your skin. he called you a few hours prior, wondering if you wanted to keep him company while he binges movies and orders you a pizza. you said yes, maybe a little foolishly. but it's hard to stay away from him. 

he's addicting. maybe it's a rush of being with someone whose whole existence is so grand. maybe it's the fact of knowing you have what millions of others crave for. you don't know, you try not to read into the intricacies. bad habit. 

so here you are, face pressed up against his chest while you lay side by side on this stupidly large couch, action movie playing, your pizza done, belly full and body warm. 

"what are you thinking about love?" he mumbles. 

"you." you shrug.

"me ?" he chuckles. 

you hum, wiggling deeper into the pile of blankets. 

"i've been thinking about you. and us." he confesses, almost shy. the movie playing in front of you has long fizzled out of your attention. 

hey might as well rip the band aid off. 

"me too," you hum, "why aren't we official again?"

you feel him sigh dramatically, "because my career."

you squint. there goes the same lousy explanation. "you could put more i don't know, thought into us."

he shifts under the blankets , "valentine's day is coming up. dont worry love i have it all planned out." he assures you. 

"oh yeah ?" you tease

"just you wait, the best valentine's day ever." he kisses the top of your head soundly.

—--

worst fucking valenties day of your life. you don't remember being more livid a day in your life. you cant remember the last time so much pure rage burned through you, hot enough to hurt. you didn't think it was humanly possible to clench your fist so tight youve dug into your palm hard enough to draw blood. 

your head hurts, your legs hurt, you think your arm is starting to bruise from where you were shoved into a table on "accident" but what would Jude know. he was so busy taking pictures with models and laughing at corny jokes while you kept yourself company. texting and calling didnt work and he didn't even try to give you any attention the whole night, you can't keep doing this with him. 

"you can't just run off-" Jude shouts from somewhere behind you. 

"or what Jude. or fucking what." you seeth, not bothering to face him, storming out into the night. 

It's your fault for trusting him all those nights ago. your fault for falling for the same shit over and over. 

he sprints to catch up to you, "i don't know why you're being like this."

you stop dead in your tracks, "oh i don't know, let's think. you didn't tell me your escorts would be there. and to top it all fucking off they have to nerve to be on my ass the whole night, not letting me get anywhere near you even through we walked in together?"

he doesn't respond and you half the mind not to punch the shit out of him, walking further away from the club you just came from, heels clanking against the sidewalk so hard it hurts, pulling on your dress so you dont trip and fall. maybe you should let it go so you can fall flat on your face. that would be a better ending to the night than seeing his face. silly stupid you thinking this would work. 

"happy fucking valentines day huh Jude. you take me to a damn club, you ignore me the whole night, and you spend all your time surrounded by other women who might as well just suck you off right then and there." you yell, hell if anyone hears. you want them too, you want him to be as humiliated as you feel. 

Bellinghams date thrown away the moment you step inside, ignored and tossed for some common whores. oh you can't wait to see where your face ends up online after tonight. you can see the headlines now. 

he grabs your arm, making you face him, "love listen-"

"no, you dont get to fucking do that anymore. you cant keep sweet talking your way out of things when you fuck up. why can't you just pretend to care" your voice shakes, you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.

"i'm not trying to talk my way out of it, i'm trying to explain." he tries.

you yank your arm out of his grip, "i'm not listening anymore, im done. all i asked was one day for us, just valentines day to make things work. and you showed me you dont care enough for that." 

"please, let me fix this." he pleads.

"its too late."

"i wanted things to work so fucking bad, and you humiliated me Jude. i imagined a nice dinner, hell i would have settled for take out and a few kisses. that's how bad i want things to work, that's how bad i wanted you." you tremble. 

"please my darling. let's talk about this. come back inside and i'll show everyone that you are mine," he holds a hand out to you, waiting. silently pleading with each breath he takes. 

the street lights dance across his skin as for a moment you almost believe him. for a moment you think about stepping back inside with him. you can't do that to yourself, not again. 

"no, iim done. don't follow me, don't call me dont text nothing. i want nothing more to do with you." your firm, final. swallowing the lump that builds in your throat, youd be damned if he sees you cry after this fucking shit show.

he stops in his tracks at this, not bothering to try and stop you. 

it hurts more than it should to leave him behind you, but you honest to god can not keep up with his lifestyle. 

all those articles and rumors were right you suppose, he's an arrogant stuck up bastard with too much money to know what to do with, too cocky for his own good and destroys anything good that comes his way. you hope he's happy without you. 

[interstellarlyinlove]

Time Travel (May 15th)

word count: 733

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus is in Hogwarts, but not his Hogwarts. He doesn’t think so, at least.

Remus really shouldn’t have stolen Regulus’ time-turner. He really should stop fucking around to find out because that is what gets him in bizarre situations like this. 

Remus is standing in a DADA classroom staring at himself. An older version of himself. Older Remus looks like this is just something that happens. 16-year-old Remus is freaking out. 

“You really should dye your hair,” Remus says bluntly. The salt-and-pepper look really isn’t working out for him. Though, to be fair, older him looks a lot more comfortable than Remus generally is at any given moment. 

Older Remus laughs loud and deep. “Sure thing.”

“I really don’t know how I got here,” Remus says. “I’m a little–”

“Freaked?” Older Remus asks. Remus notices that older him isn’t fidgeting and he stops fidgeting as well. ��I know.”

“How can you know?”

“I was freaked, too,” Older Remus says, smiling. He leans against the teacher’s desk. Remus scowls because he doesn’t lean. Remus notices a wedding band on his finger and he pretends he doesn’t notice it because that’s more than he wants to deal with at the moment.

“You remember traveling to the future to meet– oh, this is all kind of brain-numbing, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can follow.”

“Neither could I. Sirius helped me figure it out. It was quite a while ago, we needed a lot of drawn diagrams and colored ink. It hasn’t crossed my mind in so long, not until, well–” he smiles. “Until now.”

Remus’ heart aches when he hears Sirius’ name. That somehow seems like it should be the least consequential thing older him says but it’s the most important. Especially since he hasn’t really spoken to Sirius in five months, give or take, and has decided to take up hobbies like screwing with time-turners to not deal with the fact that Sirius had it in him to be so cruel. “Me and Sirius– I mean, er, you and Sirius, talk? After what happened with Snape?”

Older Remus’ eyes soften. “Of course. Sirius is the most important person in my life.”

Sirius is the most important person in Remus’ life. Or was. Or is. Or is going to be again, apparently. This is all terribly confusing. “Sirius and I–”

“Aren’t talking at the moment?” Older Remus guesses. Or he remembers, Remus corrects. He’s already gone through what Remus is currently going through. What a reassuring thought. “That was horrible. I’m sorry you’re experiencing it in real-time.”

“It fucking sucks,” Remus says, then he cringes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

Older him shakes his head. “It’s okay. Don’t apologize to me.”

“I’m glad it doesn’t last forever,” Remus says, and he means it. What Sirius did was cruel and unkind but– “I miss him. I would’ve hated to have lost my friend forever.”

“Did you think Sirius and I– Sirius and you, sorry, would never figure it out?”

Remus shakes his head. “Of course not. It’s Sirius. I wouldn’t let it not work out, even if what he did is horrible.”

Older Remus nods. “It was horrible. Everything feels like the end of the world when you're sixteen, doesn’t it?”

Remus couldn’t really argue with that. “How does it work out? Between Sirius and me–you, I mean."

Older Remus grins. “I know you’re smart enough to know I can’t tell you that.”

Remus himself grins. “I guess. This is all rather cool, actually. I’m glad to know my acne clears out. How come you don’t have any more scars?”

“I’m afraid I can't really– what I can say, Remus, is that–” and Remus doesn’t know what he wanted to tell himself because as suddenly as he appeared in that classroom, he reappears near the Black Lake, the time-turner clutched in his hand. 

He wasn’t anywhere near the Black Lake before, he was in the Astronomy Tower. Why would he be–

“Oh, fuck me. Where did you materialize from?”

Remus jumps.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just–”

“Sirius,” Remus calls out, and it’s the first time they’ve spoken in so long and Remus knows it works out. “Sirius. I have so much to tell you.”

Sirius looks awestruck. Remus, despite everything in the universe, grins. He knows that it works out! He smiles, his heart lighter than it has been in so long, and starts talking. 

[writersundersiege]

Rooster and his Songbird: Part Two the Concert

a/n: Heyy i’m back i’m so sorry that i went literally MIA i have been so sick and have been sleeping more than literally anything im planing on writing more going forward what would you like to see after this chapter?

first part - here

Summary: Jake tries to assert dominance over Bradley, but you may already like Bradley and notice him as much as he does you. But what happens when he's invited to your work playground and meets your enemies?

The next day, Bradley was dead tired; so tired, in fact, in the morning, he had to make himself two coffees, one as he woke up as usual and one to keep him going at work. He didn't even go through with his morning workout and run, simply opting for a little warm-up in his living room.

Every second of sleep lost was worth it, though, with him staying until close at the Hard Deck, bickering back and forth with Jake, and making you laugh; that was probably the best part, making you laugh watching as you’d hide your face cause your laugh was higher toned, and your cheeks would turn a bright red. Still, the best part was how your eyes squinted like you were staring directly into the sun. Bradley kept going even despite the angry quips Jake spit his way.

When Bradley arrived at the base, he saw the parking lot was starting to get full. He quickly parked and got out, heading into the base and up through the hallways to the pre-flight room he had changed before coming to base just in the event he was running behind, and today, to Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw's standards, he was behind. When he entered the room, bag in hand, Phoenix turned to look back at him; she had an empty seat to her right. To her left was Bob, and then Fanboy on his other side in the front.

As Bradley stepped to the seat Phoenix had left open for him, he heard Hangman’s voice low and deadly and felt him check his shoulder, saying, “ Oh, no, you don’t, Bradshaw; step out in the hall now.” Bradley smirked towards the rest of his squad, who had now turned to watch the interaction happen as Jake nearly marched out of the room.

Bradley slowly sets his bag down and turns to walk into the hall, making his face neutral; he knows what’s coming, but he’s not going to tell him anything. Bradley can see you like him, but he’s not going to push it, not with a brother like yours, but if you come to him, then who would he be to break your heart? By the look he gives Bradley the second they come face to face in the hallway, he sees that he, too, knows eventually he’ll have no say.

Before Jake says anything, Bradley says, “I told you last night we were clear I didn’t do anything, so why exactly is it you’ve dragged me out here?” Jake is flexing his fists by his sides while taking a breath. “Don’t play dumb with me, Bradshaw; we’ve been on two deployments together now, and we both know how you are around women, especially ones you want-“Jake stops momentarily. Bradley opens his mouth and says that, once again, he didn’t seek you the whole night; he may have shared looks with you innocently and made you laugh here and there, but is making a human connection a crime now?

Before he can say anything, Jake puts his hand up like a mother shushing a child before he says, “I don’t care to hear any of your reasons, nor do I particularly want you anywhere near her anymore, but you made a good impression on her, and even past my oh so gracious better judgment she wanted me to tell you-“

Jake seems to shiver at what he has to say, which makes a devilish grin grow on Bradley’s face. “She wanted me to say you did an excellent job at the piano; maybe play for the band next weekend if you want? But I already told her you can’t, and you can't get it. I know you like her, Bradshaw; it was disturbingly evident on Friday, but she is the only little sister I’ve got and the baby of the Seresin family; she is not some prize to win and then be forgotten about a few weeks later we both know men like us who love the chase, are not made for girls like my sister I will not let you chase after her like some prize rabbit from the rodeo so drop it now, or I swear to all that is good and holy on this earth I will make every day you see my face a painfully brutal experience for you and to all those around you. Head my warning, Bradshaw, stay away from (F/N). I mean it.”

Ending the conversation before it started, Jake had his back to him already walking back in the room, Rooster following not too far behind and finally picking up his bag and taking his seat with a smile still plastered across his smitten face. Phoenix leaned over, asking, “Are you going to tell me, come on? I’ve been dying to know why he’s so pissed? We all see your googling eyes, but you haven’t made any moves, so what’s up?”

Bradley shakes his head, saying, “Nothing to tell, just Hangman being Hangman.” he says lowly; he could tell Phoenix more now, but how he thinks about you is just for him. He hopes to tell you that when you look at him in the eyes, he sees a fantasy of different things that are never real but feel natural when you look back.

Eventually, all conversations and thoughts are put on the back seat the second Maverick enters the room, everyone hunkering into their seats to review post and pre-flight plans. Bradley sits back in his chair, getting comfortable to listen, eyes wandering the room till they stop on Jake, who's side-eyeing him from the front with fire behind his eyes and a smile across Bradley's face.

As the week went by without any mishaps or Jake breathing down Bradley's neck to try and pry for information, and since meeting you, it feels like Jake won't let Bradley be near you in any sense, even while speaking about you.

By Wednesday, the whole Dagger Squad was talking about an event at the local elementary school; as he walked up to his lunch table where all the whispering was happening, he set his tray between Bob and Phoenix, looking at them quizzically back and forth.

At the same time, he sits down, leaning between the faces that have nearly met in the middle of the table. “Why are we whispering?” Phoenix's face immediately lights up, seeing Bradley. “Roo, did you hear about going to Boots and Buckles Friday? Also, are you going to Paxton tonight?”

Bradley looks back and forth between Bob and Phoenix, frowning as they both look back at him. “What, guys? I just sat down and have been up in the air just like you, so no, I have no idea what's happening Friday, and why would I have any reason to go to Paxton Elementary today?” as he was talking, Bradley started digging into the turkey sandwiches they had prepared for the afternoon.

Although Bradley nearly choked on his food, hearing the quiet voice of Bob rise momentarily to say, “(F/N’s holding a fundraising event for her school tonight. Have you checked your phone? Jake has blasted to everyone he knows on base. It's called We Sing for Heroes. She is the music teacher at the public Elementary school near the base.”

Bradley, by this point, is downing his water, trying to cool down and wash down the food he nearly choked on, pulling his phone from his pocket as his eyes slowly flit back and forth between an almost cowering but laughing Bob and Phoenix, who's smirking right at Bradley, not even letting up. She can see right through and around him about you and the Jake situation.

Finally, when Bradley brings his phone up above his eye level, he looks through his phone to find no text messages, then turns his phone to the two others waiting for his response, sets his water down, and clears his throat. “Jake made it clear he doesn't want me around her. I'm not going, but..” Bradley immediately sets the phone on the table and looks up at Phoenix. “now that I know, will you stop by the house? I'll give you some cash to you for the fundraiser.”

Phoenix looks at him and then at Bob and shakes her head; not much is said in the next few minutes. “Well, you can still come Friday 'cause I'm inviting you, and I'll fight Jake myself if he's got a problem. Plus, it's a public bar, and bands are playing, and it will be fun. I'll need a dance partner anyway.”

“Boots and Buckles, huh? That's the one down Monroe Avenue, Right?” Bradley's mind is turning, trying to decide whether showing up will cause more drama with Jake than usual.

Then, like a flash all at once, Bradley can see you standing on the Hard Deck stage, hair bouncing from side to side, smiling wide as your gentle voice carries over the mesmerized crowd. The last thing flashing past is the glint in your eyes and smirk when you see him talking to Jake, immediately saying, “Okay, 7 pm sounds like an ideal time?” the whole table, looking back and forth to each other, smirking.

Later in the evening, at around 5, Bradley is sitting on his couch in a pair of sweats and an old academy shirt; he'd just popped open a beer when he heard banging at his front door, which had to be no one other than Phoneix he runs into the kitchen grabbing a pen envelope and wallet before heading to the door that she's still banging like the swat team on “I'm coming to Nat chill your shit.”

When Bradley swings the door open, he has the pen in his mouth, eyes trained on writing your name nicely when he hears Phoenix clear her throat. His eyes come up to the pen, dropping to the ground cause standing in front of him was not only Phoenix but Jake leaning on the wall to the right of his door opposite Phoenix. He looks up, meeting eyes with Bradley smirking, and then immediately going cold “Get Dressed, Dumb-ass.”

Hangman was already on his heels back to Bradley and Phoenix, who gave Bradley a cheeky smile until the breath finally seemed to return to Bradley's lungs, and he looked to Phoenix, who stood there still, just smiling, saying, “What?”

Eventually, Phoenix grabbed Bradley by the shoulder, pushing him back into his house, saying, “Hurry and put your flight suit on or something that represents the Squad or Navy in any way.” Bradley slowly walked through his home as he heard Phoenix call, “Also fix your hair. It looks like an explosion happened in your shower, and you've gone mad scientist; it's not your look.”

He quickly paces to his room, looking into the mirror from the spot by the dresser; he opens a drawer and grabs an old navy sweatshirt that belonged to his dad, tugging on a blue long-sleeved pullover, seeing his hair stick all which ways, and quickly running to the ensuite bathroom, wetting his hair to lay primarily flat and wavy like it usually would. After buttoning his jeans and spraying cologne, he grabs the watch that used to be his dad's from the nightstand.

Walking into the living room, he sees Phoenix holding his checkbook and pen, and the beer is gone. The TV turned off the front blinds down. “C’mon, slowpoke, it's starting at 5:30. It's only a few minutes from here, but still, we only have 15 minutes now.” Bradley meets her at the door, grabbing his keys from the hook behind the door.

He was finally taking a breath. “What's going on? Where am I going, and why is Jake here?” she smiles, handing the envelope to Bradley and moving from the threshold so he can lock up, tucking the book in his back pocket. She looks back at Jake's truck parked on the street, who's leaning out the window, glaring right at Bradley.

“Well, I may or may not have said something about how you did not get the invite to (F/N); she was appalled, she said to her brother, and I literally quote, birds of a feather flock together if Bradleys not there, then we're missing a key piece of our flock Jake she also appreciated your unknowing help in an idea of a song for her kids to sing she wants you to see it.”

This makes Bradley smile, and they both jump, hearing Jake yell from his truck. “All this bird watching is getting old. If we don't get out of here, we'll be late.” They make their way down the porch. Bradley turns to Phoenix. “He’ll kill me with his eye if I go with you guys. I'll meet there, plus I need to grab something.”

After stopping at a nearby farmer's market, Bradley pulls the Bronco into the first spot in the back of the school parking lot and rushes in through the doors and down the hall to the gym where their stage is.

When he walks through the doors, he sees you standing in the cutest dress he's ever seen on anyone. It looks vintage, like a 50’s style dress that's Navy with a white stripe going down both sides of your hips and bow tied around your torso, smiling and waving your arms directing as a group of older girls sings.

They were singing Amazing Grace beautifully. He leans on the wall next to the row where Phoenix and the rest of the Dagger Squad sat, sitting in all the seats. The rest of the seats were the children, family, and friends.

When Phoenix notices him leaning on the wall with flowers pointed at the ground, staring at you, he doesn't even see the burning of Jake's eyes into him; Phoenix elbows Hangman in the ribs, sid-eyeing him and pointing her eyes to you. This makes Jake huff and turn back forward.

Bradley is entranced by the smile you have finishing the song and turning to put your arm out and present your choir and bow. At the same time, the crowd claps and cheers for their children. Then your eyes meet, and your smile widens even more. You walk to the microphone and address the families

“Parents and Guardians, Family and Friends of the students, first of all, thank you for supporting our music program tonight. As you know, we are raising money to be able to attend our end-of-year festival. The kids are ecstatic it is taking place in San Diego, but it's at a hotel for the whole weekend, so we still need some adult chaperones for those who have time.”

Suddenly, the most petite little boy standing on the bleachers came running to you and wrapped himself in your leg, tugging the hem of your dress. You look down, slightly startled, kneeling to the boy, letting him tug your face to his ear so he can whisper to you. You giggle and say something to the little boy

“Well, as Sebastian said, may the show go on; we will end our night with a little call out to our musical heroes among the crowd. Thank you for serving our country; nothing could be nobler than what you've chosen to do. We want to thank you guys by showing you a little piece the kids helped me choose for you. So this last piece is for any service members in the crowd.” As you step back and to the side, your kids shout Thank you and wave and have another round of applause from their parents, whistling and shouting, making their kids excited like they are exchanging engines with the crowd.

Your eyes meet Bradley's while this happens, almost as if you were talking directly to him the whole time. He inhales deeply, trying to calm himself as you return, standing in front of the massive group of kids on the risers.

As the music begins, he sees a young man, not much older than you, stepping onto the stage with a trumpet. He smiles and winks at you, and you nod at the pianist he noticed as Noah from the Hard Deck Bradley starts to chuckle, knowing exactly what song you chose after he serenaded you at the Hard Deck last weekend. 

You smile as the kids sing, showing them the adorable hand gestures accompanying the song, which he knows as Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. The kids sound small, but by the end of the song, after the fantastic trumpet solo performed by the young man on the trumpet, the whole crowd was clapping, singing, whistling, and calling out to their kids.

When the song finishes, you walk to the side and gesture to the trumpet player, who bows and then to you, whistling and shouting as you take one more bow and gesture to Noah, who waves at the clapping and cheering crowd. Bradley did a whistle for you, which made your head whip his way with a huge smile; you quickly ran to the microphone.

“Friends and Family, please meet all the performers in the main hallway. Thank you so much for coming, and if you still want to donate, our boosters will be at a table in the hall!” Immediately, kids dispersed towards the exits, families slowly getting up and shuffling out of the gymnasium.

Bradley makes his way to the stage when a grip stops him. He knows and knows well, but right as he's turning to Jake, he sees the young man who played the trumpet, stopping you halfway down the stairs by grabbing your elbow. This makes Bradley immediately jerk his arm, which in turn makes both men stare daggers at the man who you seem to try to be pulling away from.

Once the men reach earshot, they hear you saying, “I know I didn't tell you, but that's not my fault, James. He is my family…” That's when he makes eye contact with a very angry-looking Bradley and Jake staring back at him. He lets go, and you turn. “Rooster, you made it.” you came barreling down the stairs and jumping in his arms. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly and hesitantly stepping back.

Bradley holds out the bouquet of wildflowers he had put together at the market, which makes your face light up. “Thank you, Bradley, so much. I have to appear to families, but I'll be back.”

That being said, you reach up on your tiptoes, gently kiss him on his cheek, and scurry through the doors the families had gone. When Bradley looks back to Jake, he glares into the darkness or the wings of the stage, grumbling, “Coward walked right off when we came up. I don't like that guy Bradshaw. I may not like you, but that makes me even worse.”

Bradley shakes his head, looking to see anything as well, then turns to Jake, but he puts his hand up. “Don't I know you're going to try and explain yourself, and please don't. Just don't be an idiot,” he turns, coming chest to chest with Bradley. “Or I will know Bradshaw.”

Before Bradley can say anything, Jake turns and is nearly stomping back towards the Daggers, who are helping to reset the seats with a few teachers and Noah. They are smiling, some guys are flirting with younger teachers there, and Phoenix and Bob are messing around and pushing each other. He starts to make his way toward them when he hears giggling, and a young-sounding girl clears her throat, which makes him immediately turn on his heel toward her.

When he comes face to face with a short blonde girl standing shyly now in front of a group of other girls who are whispering and giggling to each other, he clears his throat, saying, “Hello, young ladies, uh, what may I do for you?” the girl in front of him looks down then finally after one of the girls in the back pipes up saying “just ask him Maxie he's nice!”

Bradley kneels to her eye level, realizing his height on the girls. Having not been around many children, being in the service doesn't give him many opportunities to be around them, but he loves them. When he finally meets eyes with the young girl, he smiles, saying, “What's this question I'm hearing all about?”

She smiles and says, “Can you help us roll the risers off stage? Their heavy. Mr. Nelson left. Miss.S usually has him help us.” Bradley, at this point, lets the little girl grab by the hand to have the group drag him to the stage. He looks behind him to find you finally standing back in the gym, laughing at him with Phoenix. All the little girls bombard him with questions like how tall he is, if he fights in planes with Miss.S’s brother, Why he’s called Rooster.

Then, finally, one little curly red-headed girl makes his feet come to a halt from pushing the risers into the wings when she yells out, “Are you, Miss. S’s boyfriend?” Bradley immediately shakes his head, but a woman clears her throat with a sincere but stern look, saying, “Girls, your parents are waiting.” she points to a group of parents leaning on walls waiting for their students.

The girls rush off, giggling and whispering as Bradley tries to straighten himself out and look less flustered, turning to her smiling face. “You are a real natural, aren’t you?” she says, laughing slightly, looking him up and down, walking towards the piano, and grabbing a binder. “I honestly don’t have a lot of experience with kids. I also wasn’t sure if I was invited tonight.”

When her head whips around, she looks completely shocked. “oh really, I can’t imagine any reason why you wouldn’t be,” she laughs. “so, who did you come for? Did the rest of your team drag you along?” Bradley kindly smiles but stands with his hands in his pockets

By the way, this woman is looking at him. He can tell by how she keeps licking her lips and looking him up and down; he shakes his head. “I came for F/- Miss. Seresin.” The smile on the woman’s face seems to fade immediately as he almost says your name, but she quickly recovers, throwing on the cheesiest smile he’s ever seen.

“Oh, how lovely. So you must be Carter, right?” the girl turns her head to the side in a question that makes Bradley furrow his eyebrows for a moment, looking at her, shaking his head, sticking his hand out, saying, “Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.” At this point, the woman had met Bradley in the middle of the stage, and she grabbed his hand, pulling herself closer to him and smiling, saying in what may be described as a sultry voice, “Missus Lacy Smith.”

After dropping her hand, he steps back from the woman to avoid being nearly chest-to-chest. “I'm here 'cause I fly with Jake.” The woman's head turns to look towards where he pointed to the Dagger Sqaued in a group, laughing to see you standing with your brother's arm around you.

She shakes her head and begins to say, “So, Luetenient Bradshaw, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” At this point, Bradley can tell she is flirting with the batting of her eyelashes and smiling like the Cheshire cat. He is speechless simply from the pure forwardness and outward distains she's shown so far, tripping over his words before he hears Jake calling from the group, “Rooster, get your lady friend, and let's go. We're meeting at the Hard Deck.”

Bradley's head immediately shoots the group's way to see you standing next to Phoenix, arms linked. The bouquet of wildflowers is gone from your person, meaning you either got rid of them or you hopefully left them in your classroom, which he felt unlikely of now, feeling the presence of earlier moving in closer to grasp his arm and looking up at him “Rooster that's so cute why do they call you that?” he moves back ungrasping her hand from his arm “just my call sign name I have to get going though it's was nice meeting you…” he trails off a moment.

She gave him a small and fake smile, saying, “Lacy, you can just call me Lacy.” With a nod, he said, “Nice to meet you,” he turned on his heels, running down to the group and making his way straight to you and Phoenix. As he makes a beeline for you, Jake goes to stop him, but Nat intercepts, and when he makes it to you, finally after what feels like forever.

You are smiling down at your shoes, and he is finally in front of you when he eventually says, “I loved the music. Your classes are very talented, but everything you do amazes me.” This small endearment makes you chuckle and look up. “I'm glad you enjoyed a lot of the kiddos have dads leaving for deployments soon, so it's a nice way to show we care.”

This makes Bradley smile. “Your student seems to know me.” he immediately notices the blush rise on your cheeks, and you start to pull on the hem of the dress. “I may have mentioned you a few times since I heard you play that Jerry Lewis song with Noah. You're just way better at the piano than I am.”

Before he can say anything else, the whole Dagger squad is near the hallway doors. Phoenix yells back to them, “C’mon, love birds, you can conversate when we have drinks in our hands and music in our ears.” “Let's go, Birdie,” Jake yells, waiting at the door threshold. You hurriedly skip past Bradley right under your brother's arm, and Bradley follows close behind, smile on his face.

[zermizomilk]

 Do you have freckles? 

 Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

What was the last song you listened to? 

Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side? 

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? 

Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with? 

What’s your favorite band/artist? 

When is your birthday? 

How tall are you? 

What color are your eyes? 

Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

Fears? 

What’s your favorite color? 

What’s your favorite season? 

Want any tattoos? What of? 

Want any piercings? Where? 

Who is the last person you texted? 

Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends? 

What/who do you miss? 

How was your day today? 

How much sleep did you get last night? 

Do you believe in aliens? 

When was the last time you cried? Why? 

What’s your favorite decade? 

What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

What’s your favorite book? Or just one you’ve read a few times? 

How are you, really? 

Does it take you a long time to make decisions? 

What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

What are you looking forward to in the distant future? 

If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? 

What’s your favorite flower? 

Do you currently have a squish? 

Do you like your middle name? 

Do you prefer dogs or cats? 

Do you have any phobias? 

Do you stay up late?

Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

What’s your favorite cartoon? 

Tag 5 of your favorite blogs

Do you have siblings? How many? 

Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

Is there anyone you would die for? 

What do you need when you’re sad? 

Have you memorized your phone number? 

Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

What does your last text say? 

Food you fucking hate

Nope

Tea,

trying to remember from last night, uhhhhh debt collector?

i shift around usually on my side tho blame the whole hugging a pillow thing

No

Drawing

Enough to suffocate me

Random encounters i guess

26-11

last i checked 180cm

greenish blue

moots, im pretty sure you could guess who

idk,, being left behind, knowing i could hvae changed something horrible, not being able to help friends, idk im just saying shit that comes to mind

purple

winter

no

ears

you

you again, uhh it's been almost a year right?

🫵

Just woke up hopefully it's not completely horrible

6 hours? i think?

It can't be just us right??

that might have been yesterday, you/pos

idk

I don't think i really do anything childish..

feather thief

unimportant

sometimes

idk talking to you i guess??

idfk/nm/npa

i like it closed

lily

a what?

No, i have to think about who that belongs to whenever it's said

cats

probably

yes

no, cloudy

adventure time

@/unablethethird @/mistyycowoa @/axel-the-goat-guy-and-gal @/largefoundation @/randomexistingthing

yes,1

i am running out of ways to say you/silly

you

idk

no

you, my brother, misty, thing.

idk i check in a bit

vegan cheese,, it fucking clogs up my throat and when we tried to melt it it fucking didn't so i gaged trying to eat it

[pyropsychiccollector]

Jinx: … So lemme get this straight. You scare the crap out of everyone, but you can't take the shoe being on the other foot? (☉_ ☉)

Raven: I don't have any idea what you're talking about. (╬≖_≖)

Jinx: Oh no? "Wicked Scary" ring any bells? ≖‿≖

Raven: ……… (╬≖_≖) No. Of course not. If that's some comic or band, I've never-

Jinx: I heard allllll about it, Rae-Rae. (✿◠‿◠) No use pretending. You conjured Eldritch abominations because of one simple movie~

Raven: Beast Boy, I'll murder you. (╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ) Whatever you heard was a practical joke. They're messing with you. (╬ಠ益ಠ)

Jinx: Oh yeah? (✿◠‿◠) pulls out a DVD case with a familiar cover… except it Raven could see it was a collection of some kind Wicked Scary just released their 10th anni~ Wanna binge all them with me and Cy? (๑╹ω╹๑ )

Raven: Go jump off a building. (╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ) There's no way that shlop has a sequel.

Jinx: You're right~! It's got ten movies in the series. (✿◠‿◠) Your boyfriend recommended it~

Raven: Double-killing Beast Boy. (╬ಠ益ಠ) TEN?! Why the HELL do people insist on traumatizing themselves for over a decade?! Do they jack themselves off from pissing their pants?! (╬ಠ益ಠ)

Jinx: Chill, gloomy witch~ (✿◠‿◠) It's just good old-fashioned spooky fun~ Given you like all those dark, dismal tomes of yours, I figured freaky movies would be up your alley?

Raven: They're LITERATURE, philistine. THAT- points to Wicked Scary Compendium is nightmare fuel from the deepest bowels of Hell. (╬ಠ益ಠ)

Jinx: Well, at least you admit you're a wuss. (๑╹ω╹๑ ) Wouldn't want tentacles to come get me later cuz you're repressing again~ (๑╹ω╹๑ )

Raven: ≖‿≖*** I'll show you tentacles, you witch…

Jinx: Pass. I've got Cy if I wanna get kinky. (✿◠‿◠) He's the one that told me about your closet Wicked Scary phobia, by the way~ Wasn't your boytoy. (๑╹ω╹๑ )

Raven: So it's a double homicide instead of double-kill. Fine. (╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ) Cyborg for blabbing. Beast Boy for continuing his satanic worship and recruiting others into his cult. (╬ಠ益ಠ)

Jinx: Touch Cyborg and you'll be waking up to Wicked Scary for a month. (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) And isn't your dad pretty much Satan? Or at least a nephew or whatever?

Raven: Go anywhere near my room, and I'll SHOW you wicked scary. (╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)(╬ಠ益ಠ)

[diamondmeadow]

ooh, I'm curious about Edinburgh Epic! 👀

So Edinburgh Epic is actually a strange thing, and I could talk about it forever. It is basically an idea that I used for one of my roleplays, which is now discontinued, but the whole premise is just too good to pass on, and I really hope I can turn it into a fic one day using my writing from it. The scary thing is, it can be nothing but a multichapter, possibly a very very long one at that, and I'm not very brave when it comes to longfic. It's sort of a band AU but not really at all. It takes place in Edinburgh, that's why Edinburgh Epic. Sirius trying to patch things up with the rest of the Marauders after he disappeared for five years after their graduation. He suddenly appears at their uni reunion and well, shit goes down. The reason for his disappearance silly as it can only get; he thinks Remus and James are in love (which isn't true, but it's still complicated). But of course, he's been pining for so long. And maybe Remus has been pining too, but god, they are oblivious. Sirius is not a very good person in this premise, but I love the idea of him as a very flawed being very much. It makes me want to write the fic all the more. There is a whole extensive lore for this that came around while the roleplay was going on, and much of it can't be used because the ideas are not all mine, but I'm hopeful I can rework it.

There are also a lot of graphics I made for the rp (fictional album covers), so posting some here for fun as well as a snippet I wrote for the rp.

If it's to any interest haha.

There he is. He is! This isn't a joke, but that's no surprise. Sirius could never doubt Remus after all; the other has never given him any reason to. Unlike Sirius, who's been giving them to everyone around him. His brows knit in an unconscious pained look, not because of his injuries, but because of the way Remus is looking at him. Sirius doesn't know what to do with himself. It is bright enough with all the city night lights, not like back in the quad with Reg, but Sirius now wishes it was the other way around. It's hard to look into the face of things he has done. Into Remus' face where it is all being reflected, the black eye that he's given him by an accident a burning testimony. Sirius wants to reach out, let his fingers apologise for him. Well, that privilege he lost years ago. And yes, Sirius has his reasons for everything, yes, he does, but no one is asking, no one is interested. Honestly, at this point he starts believing that's how that ought to be. He doesn't deserve forgiveness. He doesn't deserve a chance to explain. He doesn't deserve to be anywhere near Remus nor James nor Peter, nor anyone really. His eyes fall down to his own feet and watch his own steps as he follows Remus, wherever he os taking them. Just say something, anything. Whoever the thought is directed to. I'm sorry. Remus, Moony, Moons, I'm so terribly sorry. Looking up just enough to see the way Remus' pace looks strained and heavy, the way he is gripping at his cane, Sirius feels a pang of pain somewhere near his heart. Very real physical pain coupled with his lung feeling as if someone kept stomping on them. Remus, how are you? What can I do? Let me ... take ... Then Sirius hears him, sees the napkin at the edge of his vision. They stop. Sirius reaches out for the offered item, his fingers hesitating for a millisecond; does he have any right to accept the kindness? Remus, always thinking of others when the only person he should be thinking about is himself. Remus, who absolutely wouldn't accept others thinking about him the same way in spite of the fact he would give himself and his everything to anyone who asked. No, actually people don't even have to ask. Remus. At last, Sirius clutches the napkin in his hand, then in the other, finally neatly folding it, smoothing it on his palm, before pressing it under his nose. He inhales, closing his eyes, a familiar scent hitting his nostrils, but when he looks again, there's no trace of blood on the pristine fabric. It knows too. In itself or as a part of Remus even the napkin's rejecting him. "I... tried to clean up before. And now the blood's all dried up and won't really ... come off. That's okay." His voice comes off a little shaky as he rambles. Sirius is ashamed of how much the events of the night are affecting him. He is afraid Remus might come to pity him. But he's worthy of none of that genuine compassionate feeling the other is so capable of. Sirius quickly pushes the napkin into the pocket on his trousers instead before Remus can ask for it. At least... let me have this. Sirius looks up quickly. Is it okay? "How is your eye? Does it hurt very much?" No improvement shows in his voice. A car's passed them just as he speaks up again and his question is drowned in the sounds of the engine. He steps closer and repeats. "Does your eye hurt very much?"

[twelvedaysinaugust]

The idea that Harry would do it out of anger over the Sofie situation doesn't make sense to me. /

I agree, this has never really rung true to me. I will say, what's slightly more plausible to me is the idea that it's more meant to subtly reassure fans. I don't tend to think Harry or Louis are intentionally communicating with larries ... pretty much at all, but I think if they were going to it would be very occasional and very subtle (not like, here's a secret message countdown to our coming out, more like, wink nod we're still going strong, iykyk). And there are enough instances of Harry doing just... slightly odd things in that category to me (top of mind - I Will Survive at Coachella, picking up those Louis pride flags, even Harryween) that I think it's plausible. I don't think it's necessarily the most likely reality (like, maybe Harry and his band just made a bet and the winner got to pick the new song on the set list), but I do think it's a plausible reality.

Sorry it took me forever to answer this. I wanted to come up with a good response.

I agree that Harry and Louis both play around with Larry to this day. I don't think it's anywhere near as much as some people think. And even discounting the marketing/promo stuff that would involve teams of people (which is a whole other can of worms), I still think they do it. And maybe it's not "for fans" per se, but it still happens very publicly in front of fans. And it is something that does kind of... bug me. In the sense that, if Harry and Louis are going to say a lot of the Larry stuff bothers them (fair and also same) or that it has negative repercussions for the people close to them (also fair)... why do it at all?

I still lean towards it being self-expression. But to put it another way, I think it's a pretty common human experience to want to keep something private but also make it known at the same time. Like, there is something rewarding about sharing experiences and parts of yourself with others - it feels validating and reaffirming - but sometimes you don't want to share all of it.

There are a lot of morbid examples running through my mind, like making a joke about a serious topic that isn't actually a joke. But perhaps a better example is when you like someone and you kind of hint at it. But if they were to ask you point blank, you'd deny it. Or when you're really excited about a birthday present you got for a friend and you can't help but say, "I got you the best birthday gift. I can't wait for you to open it." But then you don't actually tell them what it is. I don't know if I'm making any sense but I wanted to write this out because it helped me make sense of things. Anyways, I can think of a million examples from my own life when I felt compelled to hint at something or joke about it - like, I just couldn't help myself because I wanted to share it, just not all of it. And if someone was to push for more information, I probably wouldn't give it. And when we do those things, I think it's usually for ourselves and less about sending any kind of message.

[blackbird-brewster]

All the even numers >:)

Bahahaha, alright Anon. I saved this for last.

2. Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

(Answered here)

4. Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side? 

I'm a side sleeper, mostly facing outwards. But sometimes, I wind up on my back and when I do I snore so loud Doom Them has to wake me up.

6. Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

I can't draw for shit. Writing is my creative talent

8. What’s your favourite band/artist? 

I have SO many. I listen to a wild range of music. Everything from ska to indie rock to punk to emo to pop. Some of my all-time fave bands include: The Killers, Foreigner, Avett Brothers, Postal Service, Betty Who, Beyonce, Lizzo, Tegan and Sara.

10. How tall are you? 

5'6" or 168 cm

12. Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

@otahkoapisiakii @bittersweet-bibliophile @the-kazoo-kid @gaelic-symphony @mygenitiveisobjective

14. What’s your favourite colour? 

(Answered here)

16. Want any tattoos? What of? 

I have around 35 tattoos (hard to count when you have half sleeves and such). I DO want more tattoos, but in the past two years one of my chronic conditions has made it so I'm allergic to my tattoos. They get welts and hives all the time. Which really sucks because uhhhh, my entire body is covered in them 🤷‍♂️

18. Who is the last person you texted? 

I sent Frankie some smut as a little treat!

20. What/who do you miss? 

I miss all my loves in the US. But in terms of 'what' -- the thing I miss everyday is being able to leave my house without it having to be an entire Event. I miss life before the pandemic where I didn't have to take 100 pre-emptive steps to protect myself every time I go out. I miss 2020 when everyone (in my country) was in this together, when everyone was masking and staying home when they were sick, when everything was accessible by being online. I miss when people cared.

The pandemic isn't over. Some of us have never left lockdown.

22. How much sleep did you get last night? 

I actually went to sleep hella early. I was asleep before my daily kudos email (this is how I tell time, okay?) which comes about 00:20. Then, I got up early with Doom Them -- so I think I got about 7 hours? I only need 5-6 to be functional.

24. When was the last time you cried? Why? 

Last night I cried from laughing so hard at this picture of our cat

26. What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

I don't believe joy has an age limit. I'm a regular at our local toy stores, I know all the staff, I'm always buying new fidget toys and Squishmallows. I got into Squishmallows about the same time I got my Autism dx (mid-2020) and since then, Squish have become a constant form of comfort for us. We currently have about 300 in our collection -- and that's after some major downsizing. There's no way to know how many squish we've rotated through over the years. Here's the last full squad photo we took in Jan 2022 (there's nowhere in our house to do a full pic of the 300 we have currently)

28. How are you, really? 

I'm actually doing well this week. Summer weather arrived without warning and my depression is lifting. I feel really inspired for the first time in weeks!

30. What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

Finishing Fooled Around (and Fell in Love) - Part 3!!!!!!!!

32. If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

If I could see my US friends without actually having to go to the US itself, that would be perfect.

34. What’s your favourite flower? 

(Answered Here)

36. Do you like your middle name?

Not really. My middle name is the name of some random ski instructor my parents met the year before I was born (I have theories about this, about why my dad randomly remembered this person's name -- but that's a whole other thing. Oh, and also that's one of my middle names, it's complicated. I have like 5 names)

38. Do you have any phobias? 

Ornithophobia (fear of birds). Also scared of horses, cows, and airbags.

40. Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

YES!! I love living ten minutes from the beach. We go there a lot to relax and scream at the ocean. I prefer sunny weather, hands down, but it's cloudy 90% of the time here.

42. Tag 5 of your favourite blogs

Oh, this is really difficult. I'll just tag some rad mutuals: @knitmeapony @chaotic-archaeologist @unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix @gaelic-symphony @artcake

44. Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

I've said 'I love you' to at least five people today and it's only 10am. And I meant every one of those. I'm very much the type of person who loves my partners and friends openly and freely.

46. What do you need when you’re sad? 

Cranky Cave(tm)! Cranky cave is when I'm having meltdowns. I go to my room and turn on the fairy lights and galaxy projector. Grab a ton of squish and fidgets. Bury myself in blankets. And watch my comfort shows.

48. Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

Doom Them, Kay, Coyote.

[Send Me Asks]

[eldritchsurveys]

1202.

flower crown: when did you last sing to yourself? >> I don't remember.

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know? >> I’m not sure I’d take that crystal ball up on that offer. I don’t trust anything that claims to know “the truth about anything”.

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life? >> Not killing myself, I imagine.

1975: what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise? >> Memories don't just pop into my mind like that, they generally have to be triggered by something. If I try to spontaneously generate a happy memory I just get TV static in my mind. matte: if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? >> Probably not, unless it were to figure out how to avoid dying suddenly in a year.

black nail polish: do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things? >> I do not have a bucket list. pantone: describe a person close to your life in detail. .

moodboard: do you feel you had a happy childhood? >> I don't feel that way, no.

stars: when did you last cry in front of another person? >> I'm inclined to say February of last year. I am very diligent about not doing this anymore.

plants: pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them. .

converse: would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them? >> I doubt it, I'm not anywhere near that comfortable with vulnerability in front of others.

lace: when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you? >> The only person I'm having conversations at 03:00 with is Can Calah, who is everything to me.

handwriting: if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom? .

cactus: what is your opinion on brown eyes? >> I don't have an opinion on brown eyes specifically.

sunrise: pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally. >> "Addition: As the days go by, we face the increasing inevitability that we are alone in a godless, uninhabited, hostile, and meaningless universe. Still, you've got to laugh, haven't you?" Hol the computer at the beginning of an episode of Red Dwarf. Honestly, it means exactly what it says to me. Red Dwarf is one of my comfort shows and it feels to me like this ethos is embedded in the fabric of its existence, and is part of why I feel so soothed by it.

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far? >> I wouldn't write an autobiography.

overalls: what would you do with one billion dollars? >> I can't fathom that amount of money.

combat boots: are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way? >> I am not a very forgiving person; I don't find the concept of forgiveness to be personally useful. I do tend to hold grudges, because it feels like a way to protect me from further harm -- this is flawed thinking, I know, but that's the way it is for now.

winged eyeliner: write a hundred word letter to your twelve year old self. >> I would rather not.

pastel: would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel? >> I wouldn't describe myself as either.

tattoos: how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain. >> I don't have any feelings about them. They're cool, next question.

piercings: do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not? >> I don't, because I don't feel a need or desire to. It's fun to play with and I like the way it looks on me, but it's a lot of effort for no real purpose.

bands: talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. >> The way bands/songs/lyrics affect my life is esoteric and visceral and doesn't make for good storytelling. messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them. . cry baby: list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel. >> I have been to way too many concerts for this kind of question. grunge: who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say? .

space: do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised? >> I have a desk but I don't use it as a desk. It just has my other computer on it (I sit on my bed to use it) and a couple of lamps and some miscellany. white bed sheets: what is your night time routine? >> Brush my teeth, change into sleep clothes, put on lotion if I remember, sometimes I grab an ice pack to put on my chest for a half hour for nervous system regulation, do my Flight Rising dailies, take my birth control when my alarm goes off, go to bed. old books: what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? .

beaches: if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why? .

eyes: pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do? >> I don't even know five people well enough to go on a trip with them.

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them. .

painting: what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up. . lightning: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high? >> I... have no idea? Got into stupid fights? IDK. thunder: what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars? .

storms: you on only listen to one song for the rest of your life, or only see one person for the rest of your life. which and why? . love: have you ever fallen in love? describe what it feels like to realise you’re in love. >> I don't know, really. I assume not. Like, I am in a permanent state of being in love with Bruni and Can Calah, but that doesn't feel like something that I "fell into" or whatever. It just feels natural. clouds: if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair? >> In a totally unpredictable plot twist, I happen to wear both really really short hair and black nail polish.

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone? >> When I go to coffee shops, I generally order some form of latte (either coffee or tea). Often something herbal or kinda weird-tasting, nothing overly sweet.

marble: what is the most important thing to you in your life right now? >> My existence?

[a-real-zero]

My name is Billy Zero aka A REAL ZERO

I'm a near-fourty year old, single male metalhead from Southern New Hampshire. Heavy Music is my life! I'd say I'm a bit of an enthusiast to say the least. I eat, sleep, shit and breathe the many different bands and genres that make up the heavy music scene. However, I do have a solid variety of interests, otherwise.

I thoroughly enjoy sports. I'm not the most athletic person alive, but I LOVE my Boston teams, and I'm DIEHARD for them all. We truly are the #cityofchampions, and I support all my hometown teams enthusiastically!

I enjoy video games, even at my borderline mid-life age. Specifically PlayStation, because that's just the console I have been partial to my whole life thus far. It's just so much better than Xbox, and even though PC trumps all, especially graphic-wise, I'll never turn my back on the PlayStation console .

I have recently gotten back into wrestling [WWE], as well. I grew up loving it, but it really started to go downhill for quite some time, and so subsequently, my interest faded. However, now with Vince stepping down and selling the multi-billion dollar company, and them keeping Triple H [Paul L.] as the main man in charge, it is incredible how much things have turned around. It's become an enjoyable product once again, and very much so worth reinvesting my time into. And so I will...

I'm sure everyone will agree with my interest in entertainment, and by that, I mean primarily movies and TV series. I'm a bit of a movie buff these days, and I love throwing on one of the fifteen million streaming apps and binge-watching an entire series or season of a series. I mean these days, who doesn't?

For some reason, I really admire architecture. More specifically, city skylines and unique, diverse looking stadiums and arenas that are the homes to specific sports teams and franchises. I can't, for the life me, figure out why nor remember when this obsession and admiration first came to fruition, but it's been quite some time now and it doesn't seem to be going anywhere, either. Lol.

In a nutshell, that is what I, A REAL ZERO, am all about interests-wise. Heavy Music is my main thing. I call myself a heavy music enthusiast because of how frequently I listen to or talk about it. It's my life! It's also the MAIN point of this blog, so expect to see more of that than anything else. I enjoy writing and blogging my perspective takes, opinions, and reviews on heavy music, not to mention just about anything I find interesting enough to write about. So I decided I wanted to create my own little slice of the www [pie], and have somewhere where I can comfortably share my love for heavy music and all my common interests, or hate, depending the specifics of what I'm writing about at the time.

Expect to read many heavy music album reviews, featured band showcases with ratings, heavy music news, my most anticipated upcoming drops, my top bands of any given moment, and so much more pertaining to music, aswell as just about anything pertaining to my other topics of interest.

Please remember that any and every thing you read here is all just my perspective and opinion. If we share interests, and opinions of said interests, then that's just fucking dandy, but PLEASE do NOT take offense to anything you read and don't agree with. Like I said, it's merely just my OPINION! And this is my blog so...

Thank you, and I hope you find whatever you read here useful and/or entertaining and worth your time. If not, it's too bad because, like I said, this is MY slice of pie, not yours! 😉

**My Tumblr blog is just a temporary home to hold me over while I'm currently designing my actual website. I figured why wait on the blogging, because I want to write about things sometimes and couldn't without a website being complete. So that's a work in progress...but it is coming!

[mute-call]

"Oh, uh-- okay, yeah." That's weird. That's a really weird way to respond. What is so important or secret or scary about Dave's job that he can't just give a straight answer?

Is Steven being paranoid if something about that avoidance makes him uncomfortable?

...probably. After all, he brushed over his involvement with the Toy line; Dave's probably doing something similar. He was probably involved in something that wasn't his fault, but would still make him look bad if he were to admit to it. Steven's definitely overthinking things.

"You... know they free-roam, then." Dave's as much of a Freddy's expert as Bell's ever met, but Steve hadn't been certain as to whether the other man knew that little piece of information. It's not the sort of thing the company likes spreading around-- they don't even tell new hires until after they've signed up-- but this does make things easier. No more need to beat around the bush.

"That sure would be something! But I don't think it'd give 'em enough room to stretch their servos, which is the whole point, so... yeah, if there were a better way to handle this, I'm sure someone would have figured it out by now. In the meantime, it's not so bad! It's almost become habit at this point."

Except when he's on the phone with Dave and gets so distracted he nearly dies. Maybe Mx. Miller can literally save Steve's life by scheduling out more dates instead of them calling every other night. What a funny thought.

"It wasn't around for long, you probably never... um." He takes a deep breath. He wants Dave to be honest about his weird, mysterious job, right? Well, honest communication is a two-way street! And besides, this'll come out eventually-- with everything else Miller knows, it's a wonder he hasn't figured it out already.

"We... had the Toy line?" Shame and something else keeps his gaze firmly planted anywhere but on his date. Another breath in, and his expression relaxes as he pushes those feelings wayyy, way down. Out of sight, out of mind. It doesn't matter. It wasn't his fault, and it doesn't matter.

"Yeah," he continues, his voice cheery and his expression flat. "What a-- a whirlwind that was! Boy, just one thing after another. Heh. But that's what happens when you try out new tech, and all-- nothing works perfectly the first time around."

Why did he switch shifts? What a great question.

"I just realized that the manager stuff wasn't for me. I don't actually... love... dealing with people, um, which is a pretty significant part of the dayshift, haha!" It's not technically a lie. "So really, this new position is just perfect for me! I get to work with the band without all the drama of babysitting angry parents, you know what I mean."

He gives a wry smile, still looking at a point somewhere over Dave's shoulder.

...he feels better when the topic changes again.

"That's so neat! Well--" Nope. No. "Maybe I can meet your dad sometime" is not an appropriate thing to say on a first date.

"--well I hope he's liking it!"

This conversation is getting away from him, what with the reminiscing about his failures and the near-faux pas. Maybe it's time they returned to a safer, more familiar realm.

"So where did we get to in our last call? I know you had been telling me about Fredbear's. Got any more juicy trivia for me tonight?"

Dave  grins,  relaxing  from  the  comment  and  returning  it  with  a  ❝  It's  you  !  ❞  They  fold  their  arms  on  the  table,  as  their  smile  softens  and  a  warmth  gathers  on  his  expression.  He  finds  it  a  bit  easier  to  be  William  when  speaking  with  Steven,  and  it  chokes  him  like  tangled  wire.  Steven  just  makes  it  so  easy.  He  has  a  spark  to  him  William  likes. Or,  maybe,  it  is  simply  because  Steven  holds  objectively  correct  opinions  about  his  comfort  franchise.  ❝  Yeah,  I  think  y'should've  .  .  .  but  hey  !  Like  I  said,  makes  things  easier  and  now  we're  done  'n  good.  ❞

William's  gaze  turns  away  from  Steven  .  .  .  falling  on  another  table's  centerpiece  a  good  distance  away.  ❝  Yeah,  I  .  .  .  ❞ 

Well  fuck.

This  is  clearly  a  setup  for  something. Dave  Miller  grips  nails  into  him.  William  Afton  says  '  he's  so  nice  !  He  understands  you  !  '  The  wire's  deep  cuts  are  why  he  is  bleeding  romance. 

He  goes  for  the  middle  ground.  ❝  Classified  info,  how  about  we  leave  it  at  that  ?  ❞  A  forced  smile.  He  will  not  allow  himself  to  get  tangled  in  whatever  ploy  this  is.  If  Steven  turned  on  him  and—

He  really  should  stop  caring.  Easier  said  than  done.

❝  I  didn't  think  you  were  bein'  sarcastic.  ❞  Dave  leans  forward,  a  little  closer  to  him.  ❝  Yeah,  that's  a  shame  .  .  .  maybe  you  could  trick  them  into,  I  dunno,  P  'n  S  and  lock  the  door  ?  ❞  No  way  could  Steven  here  pull  that  off,  but  hey,  why  not  imagine  just  for  fun  ?

William  —  William,  again  —  feels  a  warmth  bubble  over  him  as  he  listens  to  Steven  discuss  more  about  working  at  Freddy's.  ❝  You  were  ?  What  location  ?  I  bet  I  know  it  !  ❞  Maybe  he  had  never  been  there,  but  he  loves  keeping  tabs  on  the  company's  history  !  ❝  You  willingly  chose  the  nightshift  though  .  .  .  why's  that  ?  ❞  Maybe  the  hesitation,  William  fears,  is  a  tell  that  the  thrill  of  the  night  is  more  Dave's  speed.

Being  called  by  his  name  earns  a  blink  and  snaps  him  back.  ❝  Really  ?  That's  .  .  .  that's  really  cute  !  ❞  Just  like  Steven  !

Ah,  personal  questions.  ❝  My  father's  work  brought  him  to  the  Midwest.  ❞  That's  all  he  will  say.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Like You, Like Me (Steddie Halloween)

I am swamped by writing and drawing challenges, but in honor of October starting I just have to share this Halloween ficlet because this is all my brain can produce nowadays. I am this close to writing this as a fanfic. Hell, I probably will. Bye, free time.

The kids want Steve and Eddie to throw a Halloween party in their home (yes, they've moved together and Steve finally escapes his parents AND the wallpaper), he goes completely overboard with preparations and ropes Eddie into it. Eddie grumbles a lot about "needy and spoiled shitheads", but hanging those stupid paper decorations apparently comes with music choice privileges, so he also gets pretty immersed in it. They're about the same height, but it gives Eddie the ammo he needed to claim he's the taller one since Steve obviously can't hang them on his own. Steve slaps him with a carton witch. 

They cut out the weirdest decoration shapes ("That's not a bat, Eddie!" "It is if you squint hard enough. Maybe a demobat?" "I don't want those things anywhere near you or me in the nearest millennium, Munson"). 

They attempt to bake some cookie and muffins because they know everyone will start whining about being hungry in 2 hours tops and the mountain of food they bought will disappear before one can say "Dustybun". The neglected rich kid and the trailer trash kid join hands in the best effort to do...something. Eddie pours all his restless energy into mixing the batter (he keeps muttering "die, you floaty fucker!" to the stubborn blob of flour that refuses to dissolve while drops of batter splash everywhere around and Steve yells "DUDE, NOT IN THE HAIR!"). 

They teenage-proof their flat, because there will be pumpkin carving and there is likely to be a) mess, b) teenagers with knives, thank god Robin, Nancy and Jonathan are coming over as well. 5 adults supervising 6 kids should hopefully be enough. Probably not. Eddie remarks he wouldn't trust the little Wheeler with tweezers, not to mention a knife, and Steve just sighs "don't I know it." 

They get so caught up in the preparations that it's the day of the party and they don't have costumes. Steve just wants to have everyone to have a good time, so of course he doesn't think about himself. Eddie just follows his lead because it's so nice to see Steve passionate about something. But when Dustin arrives 30 minutes early (in a costume that does his curly hair and happy smile justice, he excitedly explains to Steve that he's Bilbo from the Hobbit, he might be too young and his feet are freezing, but who cares, he looks awesome!), he seems a bit disappointed that they didn't prepare any costumes. And Steve's face drops very slightly, but Eddie can notice because he knows how important Dustin's approval is to Steve. He leaves Dustin in charge (of nothing significant, it's just to keep him occupied) and drags Steve off to their bedroom. He whispers to Dustin to make a quick phone call to Lucas. 

When the rest of the guests arrive, they are greeted with a beautifully decorated flat, delicious food and...this. This being Steve dressed in Eddie's clothes, all torn jeans (maybe a bit too tight on him and Eddie will explore that thought later in the evening), a band t-shirt, rings and Eddie's battle vest, his hair styled to be a bit more wavy. Eddie's unruly curls are combed down for once, into a very preppy ponytail. He is wearing Steve's polo and jeans and somehow he even got a marker to imitate his boyfriend's moles. And before anyone can remark that's a very lazy costume idea, Eddie greets them in the doorway. 

"Welcome to the Harrington-Munson household and vice versa! Lucas, do you have what I asked for?" 

Lucas gives him a weird look, but tosses him the basketball he brought. "Yeah, man. I don't get why, but there you go." 

"Wonderful" purrs Eddie and grabs the ball, slotting it against his side. "Now I'm the perfect Steve Harrington. With the perfect hair, this perfectly ironed polo shirt. I am very ready to bounce this ball against the ground as one does when playing the basket game and score a basket. Unfortunately," he adds and puts hands on his hips, perfectly mimicking Steve's I'm your mom posture, "I must have misplaced my high school shorts somewhere, which is a damn shame, I tell you MUNSON." 

Steve just snickers and fidgets with the rings. "Oh shut up, Harrington, order is for fools, an intelligent person can handle chaos." Eddie is pretty sure he had an easier way to say this, but Steve paraphrases and Nancy snorts in laughter when Steve pretends to pick a strand of hair from his mouth. "Now move along with your laundry basket game friend. I'm deep in conversation with Dustin here about the board game I totally know so much about. He has been telling me about a palettin-"

"-paladin!" 

"-that has been so heroic in our most recent play session-"

"-campaign!"

"-that I just have to say he's very metal, man. Did he bite anything, Dustin?" 

Dustin's brow furrows. "Um. I guess his mount bit an enemy that was trying to sneak past us, but-" 

Steve waves him off. "Yeah, so his mighty steed-" he pronounces very stiffly and Max thunks her head into the door, "is very Ozzy, I tell you. You wouldn't get it Steve. He's in a really cool band, Ozzy is. He's the real music." 

Eddie has hard time keeping straight face and Lucas nudges him. "Okay, we get it. Let us in. And if you want to copy Steve's mother vibe, you should frown more." 

"HEY! I smile! I mean. Harrington does," interjects Steve. 

Max slings her arm around Lucas's waist. "You should also call us shitheads. That's his chosen term of endearment." 

Eddie manages to scrunch his eyebrows together, but the grin doesn't go away. "Oh yeah, thanks for that, little shithead, very helpful. Care to help Eddie be a bit more Eddie too since he's too caught up in trying to remember the name Black Sabbath - I swear to god, love, it's literally on the poster over our bed! - to act like himself." 

"You should jump on furniture!" Mike points out and the rest of the kids nod in agreement. "Eddie does that a lot." 

"Is that the main thing you notice about me?! I mean, him?" Eddie asks, bewildered. "Okay, you know what, I don't care. In you go, shitheads. And the rest," he nods at their adult friends. When he's ushered them all inside, he closes the door and beams at Steve, pecking him on the lips. "I like you in my clothes."

Steve laughs and returns the kiss. "You're just saying that because I mentioned Ozzy. I do remember Black Sabbath, by the way. Let's go, Harrington, we have guests to entertain." 

And so they do.

[blueberrylemontea-fanfic]

Chapter [9]

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader Summary: You and Billy go on a date. Word Count: 2866 Song Suggestion: Sick and Twisted Affair - My Darkest Days Warnings: none [Teaser] - [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8]

Friday night rolled around and you had to admit you were kind of excited.

You liked hanging out with Billy and he'd told you about this dive bar he'd discovered a couple of months ago that supposedly played the best music. He'd described it to you and it sounded amazing after months of house parties and the arcade.

You'd decided to grab burgers first and you were starving. Lucky for you Billy was picking you up at 6:30 and it was 6:25. You grabbed your jacket and went downstairs, joining Steve in front of the tv.

"Nice shirt" Steve smiled at your AC/DC t-shirt that you had tucked into your leather skirt.

"Thanks" you said, even though you knew he hated band t-shirts and was probably just being sarcastic.

"Hargrove's picking you up right?"

You nodded. "Hey, I kinda forgot to ask, is it weird for you that he's coming here?"

Steve simply shrugged "Well, it's not like I'm inviting him in for a cup of coffee or anything."

"Still, I probably should've checked."

"It's fine, Y/N, really. Besides, we've been doing alright the past few days, haven't we?"

It was true, today had been the third day Steve had joined Billy and you for a smoke on the hood of your car and so far there hadn't been any casualties. They were not exactly friendly, but half-way civil was more than you would've hoped for on Tuesday. You'd noticed them quietly grinning at something the other had said, even if they'd never admit to finding each other funny.

"Yeah, I guess that's true. Who knows, maybe next time you just might treat him to that cup of coffee," you winked.

"Next time? You think you're gonna go out again?"

You shrugged. "I mean, probably. That dive bar he told me about sounds awesome, so I guess we might do it again."

Steve grinned.

"What?" You asked

"I thought you didn't date."

"I don't."

He raised his eyebrows "Please"

"Oh shut up, I don't. Billy and I just like the same things, and we get along really well, that's all."

"Yeah, that and all the sex."

You hit him in the arm. "That has nothing to do with this."

Steve just laughed in your face. "How could one possibly have nothing to do with the other?"

"Steve, how many more times," you groaned. "He's my friend and he happens to be a good fuck, why does it have to be more than that? Besides, it's not like he's the only guy I'm screwing."

Steve threw his hands up in mock defeat as he chuckled. "Alright, alright, but now he's not just a friend you're sleeping with, he's a friend you're sleeping with and dating, can't exactly blame me for thinking there might be something there, can you?"

"Sure it's not exactly, conventional..." You both smirked "but it works for us. Besides, when have Billy and I ever done anything conventional?"

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of squealing tires pulling into Steve's driveway, followed by a short honk.

"Guess that's my cue," you grinned and got off of the couch. "See you later."

"Have fun on your non-date," Steve winked.

Before going out the door you jokingly threw a candid look back over your shoulder. "Don't wait up."

***

You bounded out the door and got into the Camaro, the final note of Metal Militia filling your ears.

"Ready to go?" Billy smiled at you and you nodded.

"I can't wait to see this place. Is it anywhere near as good as the bars back in Cali?"

California had become a main conversational piece between you, daydreaming together about blue skies and salty waves.

"Nothing here's as good as in Cali."

"Nothing?" You teased.

"Jesus," Billy rolled his eyes, "if you're expecting me to say some cheesy shit now, that's not gonna happen."

"Ever so charming, Hargrove," you laughed. "Oh, I love this song!" You turned up the stereo, AC/DC's Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap blaring through the speakers. You sang along, well, yelled along might've been a more accurate description, as "good singer" were words no one had ever used to describe you. Billy was tapping along on his steering wheel, quietly joining in on the second verse.

You immediately stopped your caterwauling, shutting Billy up too.

"Holy shit, Billy!"

Billy was avoiding your eyes, pointedly staring at the road. "We could've been listening to you instead of my croaking this entire time? You're actually good."

He really was, and it wasn't even like he was trying or anything, but his low, raspy voice was perfect for rock'n roll.

"Come on, go on" you encouraged him, but he shook his head.

"Yeah, no way, not gonna happen."

"I've sucked whipped cream off of you're dick, but now you're shy?"

Billy grinned wickedly. "Great comparison, princess. Extremely similar situations."

"Fine, guess you'll just have to listen to me then," you shrugged and started singing again.

Billy steadied his steering wheel with his elbows as he covered his ears. "No offense, but please shut the fuck up."

You were laughing your ass off. "Get your hands back on the wheel, jackass."

And because he wouldn't be Billy if he didn't, he let go off the wheel completely for just a little too long.

"You're such an asshole!" You punched him in the shoulder.

Billy smirked. "I know."

"So how much further is this place?"

"About half an hour."

Time flew when you were around Billy, you'd been driving for over an hour but it felt like you'd just gotten into the car.

Thirty minutes later, Billy pulled into the parking lot of a burger joint. It looked incredibly cosy with its leathery red booths and slightly dim lighting. You and Billy slid into a booth near the back, both scanning your menu's.

"So, is this where you take all your girls?" You smirked.

Billy rolled his eyes at you. "Please, you think I'm driving an hour and a half for any old chick?"

"Asshole," you chuckled. Seriously, this guy was so fucking full of himself and yet you loved it. You knew he meant it, that he really didn't bother driving out here just for some girl he wanted to fuck, and it kind of touched you that he took you here.

When the waitress came you both ordered a burger and fries, yours with a Cheerwine, Billy's with a chocolate shake.

"I never got that," you shook your head after the waitress had left.

"What?"

"Milkshake and fries, I don't get how anyone can actually like them together, there's just no way."

Billy looked like you were trying to explain quantum physics. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Dude, it's ice cream with potato. It's hot and salty with cold and sweet, that's just not okay."

"First of all, don't knock it till you try it. And second, you like that cherry flavored shit so there's no way I'm trusting your taste buds."

You gasped. "Excuse me, that 'cherry flavored shit' is delicious." You made dramatic air quotes with both hands.

"Yeah right, it tastes like shitty candy and chemicals. Especially that vodka you drink, seriously how do you ruin booze?"

"That so happens to be my favorite drink, Hargrove."

Billy smirked triumphantly. "Which is definitive proof that you have no taste buds."

You wanted to protest but the waitress arrived with your food. "Thank you." You smiled warmly as she put your plate down in front of you.

It looked absolutely delicious.

"Jesus, you really should take your girls here more often," you said after you took a bite from your burger, "one bite of one of these and they'd be ready to do about anything."

Billy chuckled dryly "Don't need any burgers for that, sweetheart."

"You sure about that?" You rolled your eyes at him and took another bite.

You watched in horror as Billy took a bunch of fries and dipped them into his milkshake before shoving them into his mouth, and then chuckled at your appalled expression. He licked his finger obscenely when he pulled it back from his mouth.

"Disgusting." You pulled a face at him and he shook his head.

"Don't knock it till you try it." He smiled and dipped some more french fries into his glass, holding them out to you.

"Yeah, no, not gonna happen. What ever happened to good old ketchup?" You said while you demonstratively swiped some of your own fries through the ketchup on your plate and ate them. "So good," you smiled.

"Just try 'em already, you know you're curious," Billy mocked.

"Fine, but only to stop your nagging, you brat." You leant forward and ate the fries Billy fed you, licking the milkshake off of his fingers.

It was weird, that was for sure, both hot and cold at the same time, salty and sweet. It was far from as revolting as you thought it'd be, the taste was actually quite alright, it was more the creaminess of the milkshake that made it strange, but it sure as hell didn't beat ketchup.

"Told you it's good." Billy's smug smirk made you wanna roll your eyes again.

"Hold your horses, Hargrove. It's, okay, but I still don't see why anyone would eat that voluntarily."

He scoffed at you and defiantly dipped some more fries into his shake, sulking as he ate them. It made you laugh. "Still such a sore loser," you winked.

After finishing your food the waitress brought you your check. Billy took your arm when you tried to reach for your wallet. "Dinner's on me, princess."

"You don't have to do that," you protested, but he insisted.

"Never been on a date before?"

He was definitely testing your patience now.

"Oh, I have, but none like this one."

"'s that a good thing or a bad one?"

You smirked. "Thought you knew by now that no one does things as well as you do, pretty boy."

He smiled as he put the money down on the table, really smiled, something Billy didn't do very often.

"Alright, but I'm buying drinks later."

"Fine," he chuckled, "Let's go."

The bar Billy was taking you too was only 10 minutes away and it looked exactly like you'd dreamt it would, man you'd missed decent bars...

The neon lights shone brightly off of the dingy brick building. There were people littered around it, leaning against the wall to either smoke or make out. It looked like exactly the kind of dimly-lit, seedy dive bar you needed. The thumping hard rock filled your ears as you stepped inside.

You swayed your hips to the beat as you walked to the bar, Billy in your wake. "Could you do me a favor and go save us a spot at the pool table, pretty boy?" You asked him, the mischievous glint in your eye had Billy curious, but he went anyway.

He kept his eyes on you as you stood at the bar, and it wasn't long before a guy walked up to you and started chatting. Billy felt the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. His throat clenching with a little bit of sadness and a whole lot of anger.

Just when he'd thought he was about to have an evening alone with you, you pulled this crap...

He was about to go over there and step in, but then you turned your head his way and winked subtly, and he saw that the guy had just bought you two beers. It wasn't long before you made your way back across the bar to Billy, handing him the beer.

"This what you meant when you said you're buying drinks?"

You grinned scathingly. "Do I look like the kind of girl who buys her own drinks?"

"So who should I be thanking for this, then?" He swayed the bottle between his fingers.

"Stanley something... didn't really pay much attention to what he was saying."

"Sometimes I forget you're a real bitch," Billy grinned slyly.

Coming from anyone else that probably would have been an insult, but you knew it was exactly the opposite, it was a compliment. Billy was impressed.

He raised his beer up to you. "To Stanley," he toasted.

You touched your bottle to his, smiling. "To Stanley."

You put your beer down on a stool after taking a long swing and grabbed two cues, tossing one to Billy.

"You play back in Cally?"

You shrugged. "Only sometimes, in places like this."

You raked up the balls and took the first shot, pocketing the solid red one. You played for a while, both okay enough to pocket a ball almost every shot. Billy missed a little more often than you did, but managed to make up for it with a trick shot or two.

You were going head to head with only the eight-ball left, and it was your shot. "So what do I get when I win, pretty boy?"

Billy scoffed. "Please, princess, you haven't won just yet, and you're not going to. But on the off chance that you do, I'll buy the next round, and something better than beer, mind you."

"Deal."

You leant down on the table, ready to take your shot, when you felt someone hovering close to you. By the clenching of Billy's jaw you gathered it was a guy, a suspicion which was quickly confirmed by the hands on your ass.

Billy was halfway across the table already, ready to kick that guy's ass, when you drew your cue back quicker than needed, hitting the guy hard in his pelvis before taking your shot and pocketing the eight-ball.

Billy could barely contain his laughter as the guy doubled over, he pushed himself between the two of you, shoving the guy out of the way with his shoulder and lifted you up onto the pool table.

"Looks like you won," he grinned as he lifted your chin and kissed you roughly.

You let him envelop you, enjoying his warmth around you. When he pulled back you hopped off the table. "Not so sore of a loser anymore, are we now?"

"Only because you looked so hot winning, princess," he growled in your ear.

"Wait here and I'll go get those drinks." He pecked you on the lips before he went.

You made your way over to the dance floor, moving to the music while you waited for Billy to return. When he did he was holding two glasses of what looked like scotch on the rocks, one of which he handed to you.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me," he pointed across the room, "thank Brian."

You nearly spit out your scotch.

"Didn't think you were the only one that can charm a guy out of some drinks, now did you?"

You were laughing so hard you were shaking. "Full of surprises, aren't you?"

Billy shrugged and whispered in your ear. "You don't know the half of it."

You hoped he was right. You were starting to think that figuring out Billy's secrets might be a lot more interesting than you'd initially thought.

You spent the night dancing, drinking, smoking and laughing. You were having so much fun with Billy, flirting your way through numerous more drinks, the tension between you building each time one of you touched someone else just a tad too long.

You were at the bar, getting your third round of scotch on the rocks from the same kinda cute guy, who was very obviously trying too get more familiar with you with each passing drink. You could feel Billy's eyes burning a whole into the guy's hand on your arm and the feeling made your stomach tighten.

You really did like it when he got jealous.

You leant a little closer to the guy you were talking to, a little too close, actually, before thanking him for the drinks. Then you walked away before he could even say "you're welcome".

You walked straight up to Billy and the second you were within reach his hands were on you, pulling you so close to him that it felt like the world around you melted away instantaneously.

Suddenly, it was just you and him.

Him, staring at you with that intense glare he got when he saw you with someone else, that glare that sent electric sparks down your spine, because it told you that he wanted nothing more than to have you all to himself. To claim you, and show every last person in sight that they could forget about it because you were his. Yet, at the same time, he knew that he couldn't, that you weren't really his, and it drove him absolutely insane.

And then there was you, looking into those blazing, mesmerizing, crazily beautiful eyes, and you wanted nothing more than to let him have you. To see what would happen to that look in his eyes if you let him have what he wanted. So you did. You pulled him close, your lips ghosting his earlobe.

"Wanna show them?"

"Show them what?" Billy's fingers were slipping under the hem of your shirt.

"That they don't stand a chance against you."

***

Next one will be short and spicy 😈

Taglist: @parkjimochissi​ @alongcamedolly​ @yourmagestyqueen​ @oopsiedoopsie23 @red-2-0 @salemlysi​ @hstylesphoto @asheseiler @tn22220-blog @ roxytheimmortal @purrculiar​ @ that-tiny-dumb-artist  @originalwhore @angelofslytherin @https://the-purple-world-and-i @artsymaddie @secretly-a-weeb @aashy723

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Lost Years

Summary - After spending five years in LA, Dean comes back to Lawrence and meets up with his bestfriend or rather his then bestfriend. Y/N isn't exactly happy on seeing Dean either. Will he be able to fix his strained relationship with her?

Pairing - Rockstar!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - Cheesy fluff, angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of divorce, parents separation, drinking, bad dates, kissing, unprotected sex 18+ (wrap it before you tap it), p in v smut, oral sex (fem receiving), sex in the Impala.

WC - 5.3k+ (....oops)

Square filled - Angst ( @girl-next-door-writes ) and “Why the fuck would you laugh at that?” ( @anyfandomgoesbingo )

A/N - This is my submission to @downanddirtydean's 500 followers writing challenge (Congratulations again, Lyd). Prompt is in bold.

This is an AU. Flashbacks are in Italics.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thank you so much, hon) and thank you to @whatareyousearchingfordean for giving this a read and leaving some valuable comments❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Fuckin’ brilliant!” A weary exclamation left the woman's mouth as she read the text displayed on the device's screen in her hand.

There was a very significant reason why she didn't believe in blind dates, but Jo had been stubborn and insistent. And with Valentine's Day approaching, Y/N didn't want to spend the day in her pjs, crying over The Notebook again. So she had agreed to give a chance to Jo’s friend, or to be more precise, her friend's cousin. His name was Gabriel, and from what she had heard from her mutual friend circle, he seemed to be a decent guy.

But now all she wanted was to go back in time and change her decision to give into Jo’s request, because looking at the empty chair in front of her, she regretted allowing her friend to even try to interfere in her love life.

She signaled the waiter to bring over her check after downing the entire glass of wine. The restaurant was quite busy tonight. It was packed with people on this fine Saturday evening - from lovestruck couples to families with crying kids, Y/N found herself feeling quite lonely as she had stupidly waited on her date to show up for such a long time. Heat crept up her neck in embarrassment when the waiter showed up, the latter’s eyes filled with sympathy as Y/N paid the price of her drink.

Within no time, she was out of the restaurant.

Glancing down at her green dress, she swore under her breath. She tried to book a cab to return to the comfort of her home when her eyes caught the glowing signboard of The Roadhouse right around the corner of the street. The only thing she could think of was to get black-out drunk now. Y/N, still in her high heels, trudged down the path to Ellen’s bar.

Dressed up all for nothing. Rolling her eyes at herself, she went inside the establishment, heading straight towards the counter and taking a seat there. Like any other weekend nights, the place was stuffed. Y/N let her eyes trail over the many patrons of the dingy bar, landing finally on the middle-aged brunette who ran the place

“Ellen!” She called out to the woman.

“Hey, honey,” she approached Y/N, all the while glaring daggers at the drunk she had just previously been arguing with, “A bit overdressed for this place, don't ya think?”

“Your daughter is officially fired from matchmaking services,” Y/N sighed.

“Boy troubles, huh? What can I get ya, hon?” Sympathy was evident in Ellen’s eyes as she spoke. Y/N was as much of a daughter to her as Jo was. The girl had been through so much heartbreak, all Ellen wanted was to see a smile on her face.

“The usual,” Y/N gave a sad smile.

“Rough night indeed, huh?” She raised an eyebrow. The woman in question shrugged defeatedly. Ellen patted her arm in comfort before she left her to arrange for her drink, leaving Y/N to wallow in self-pity.

She thought back to when her life had taken such a traumatic turn. All her friends were either getting engaged, married, or popping out kids. But not Y/n... she was in her late twenties now, and she couldn't even find herself an eligible man.

Ellen pushed the glass towards her. Sighing, she picked it up as she admired the liquid in it. She drank slowly, every sip creating a burning sensation at the back of her throat. Fingers still wrapped around the glassware, she set it down, looking around the bar. The place was filled with mad chatters and howling laughs along with the music blasting from the stereo placed on the deck inside the room, a stark contrast to how lonely she felt. She signaled Ellen for another round, who nodded before giving her that sad understanding smile Y/N was now starting to hate. Frowning, she dropped her head and exhaled.

“Sweetheart, where did that pretty smile for yours go?” Y/N was quickly pulled out from her daze by a very familiar voice; a voice she hadn't heard in a few years. It couldn't be him, he was supposed to be in LA!

“Ella?” The term of endearment brought back dozens of memories, some good and some bad, but all were about him - the freckled face teenage boy with dirty blonde hair and eyes as green as the forest in the summertime she had once fallen for. It brought up the painful memory of their first meet which she had tried to forget so hard.

She remembered the day of their first drama practice when Dean had grudgingly walked into the room. He had reluctantly agreed to play the Prince in the Cinderella act after Cas who was supposed to be the Prince had accidentally ended up with a broken leg. He didn’t know her name, so he had called her ‘Ella’ to get her attention which was the start of their epic friendship.

Y/N didn't dare to turn around to look at him, after all, he wasn't the scrawny teenager from Lawrence anymore. He was now the lead singer and guitarist of a popular rock band with a fancy name and songs that were in the top ten of Billboard music charts. Yes, she did keep up with his rising fame, sometimes even listening to one of his songs before she was once again reminded of the heartbreak he had caused.

“You can't even look at me.” His voice was barely a whisper but loud enough for her to hear as he slid into the stool beside her.

Gathering enough courage, she raised her head. “Dean.” His name rolled off her tongue so easily, but her heart ached for the past. Dean cracked a smile at her as his emerald eyes did not leave hers once. It was as if he was memorizing every tiny detail of her face and if anyone would've asked him, he would've replied that he was.

Y/N hadn't changed much over the years he had spent in LA. She was still the same girl he had first met in school and the last time he had seen her at their graduation. She was a shy girl but they had clicked instantly. Growing up, she was his best friend, his person, his escape.

“Dean Winchester has walked into my bar. Must be my lucky day!” Ellen’s voice thundered across the room, grabbing the attention of a few intoxicated people. “How's LA treating you, boy?”

“Ellen! It's awesome to see you again.” A grin broke out on Dean's face as he jumped out of his seat and pulled the lady into a bear hug. “LA’s pretty okay. It is as good as the industry can be.”

“Heard some of your songs, I knew you had the talent,” Ellen said, jabbing her finger into his chest to prove her point. “Now what can I get ya? On the house.”

“A beer will be just fine. Don't want to show up to the Winchester house drunk!” He chuckled.

“Alright, coming right up. Y/N, honey, you want another round or a glass of water?” The lady asked.

“I'll be leaving in a few. Glass of water it is, El.” She replied but was then interrupted by Dean.

“One drink, with me. It's on me, Ella.” There it was again, that fucking name. A few years ago, that name would have made her cheeks heat up but now, it just made her blood boil. She clenched her hand into fists, tears pricking at her eyes as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Do not call me that.” She hissed, surprising Dean. Y/N turned towards the man, finally taking a good look at him. He had changed a lot, had become more handsome but LA had not modified his clothing style because he was still wearing his signature flannel and jeans accompanied by a jacket. She wondered how many girls had stopped him for a picture or an autograph on his way back to Lawrence, jealousy seeping into her. She hated the way he still had that effect on her.

“Y/N-” She knew what he was going to say. ‘I am sorry’, but she wasn't ready to forgive him now, if ever.

“No. Don't.” She stopped him mid-sentence, hands digging into her purse as she pulled out the money for her drinks, dropping them on the counter.

“El, I am going home.” Ellen, who was silently watching their whole exchange, nodded her head before asking, “Want me to call a cab for you?”

“No. I'm going to crash at your place. I need to have a word with Jo.” Y/N said since it was near impossible for her to walk back to her house, considering she was quite tipsy and still in heels, but she also didn't want to wait until the woman called a cab with Dean Winchester anywhere nearby. After getting her belongings, she got out of the barstool and left the place on wobbly legs. Her feet would no doubt be screaming in pain the next day.

Stepping out, she inhaled deeply, letting a few tears fall as the cool air hit her face. After their graduation, Y/N had sworn she would try her best to forget the older Winchester. She wasn't quite successful in her aim, because many times she would come across his gorgeous face on the cover of a magazine or his song would be playing on the radio, striking up old memories of their time spent together in high school.

Still lost in her thoughts, she took a step forward, only to misjudge the cobblestone path and end up losing her balance. She braced herself for the impending fall but was saved by a pair of strong hands wrapped around her waist.

“Watch your step, sweetheart,” Dean said, letting her down gently. “Lemme see, did you hurt your ankle?” He went down on his knees in front of her, pulling a low gasp out of her as he examined her feet.

“Were you following me?” Y/N gritted out those words.

“No.” He shook his head but she clearly saw through the lie.

“I’m fine. You can go now.” She said, her eyes looking everywhere but the man.

“Come on, don't be so stubborn. Get in the car, I'll drop you off at your house or Jo’s place if you want.” He said looking up, trying to catch her eyes but she was adamant about not giving him that satisfaction. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, lips quivering before she answered.

“Leave me alone.” She muttered, a tear running down her cheek. All that preparation for not breaking down in front of Dean and her body still betrayed her. The man got up. Y/N noticed that he was now wearing a cap, probably to hide from any bystander who might recognize him.

“Y/N/N, I-” Dean was at a loss of words. He hated seeing her so heartbroken and he loathed himself for being the cause of it. He tried to reach out and hold her hand but she recoiled back, making him wince. “Please, Ella.”

“Stop calling me that, Winchester. How many times do I have to repeat that?” Her voice came out as a little whine, making Dean chuckle. He missed it - her tone, the timbre, the intensity in her pitch, and the words it said, which used to be his voice of reason; he missed his best friend. “Why the fuck would you laugh at that? I am not doing stand up comedy out here.” Y/N was still the strong-headed girl he adored.

“You'll probably hurt yourself if you walk in those heels again with how tipsy you are right now. Get in the car, I know you missed cruising around the town in Baby because she missed you for sure.” And that thankfully got the exact reaction out of her that he had anticipated. She finally looked right at him, her face lit up at the pretense of seeing the beloved black car again.

“I thought she was in LA with you.” Y/N said and then it dawned on her, “Did you drive across the States?”

“Damn right I did!” He beamed in reply like he had won a trophy, his heart swelling with happiness when he saw the smile forming on her face mixed with awe and surprise. He still had to go a long way to get her back, but he had to take baby steps. At least he managed to make her smile. “So? Want to go out, just like the old times?”

The smile instantly disappeared from Y/N’s lips and Dean knew he fucked up right then. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the good ol’ days. “Sweetheart, I'm sorry-”

“Just drop me off at Jo’s. That's it.” She said, lowering her gaze. He waved her over to the direction where his car was parked. Y/N started to walk along as Dean wordlessly followed her.

Y/N felt a wave of nausea hit her. She didn't do well in social gatherings and this was her graduation ceremony. One wrong step, one wrong word, or a wardrobe malfunction, and the day could turn into a disaster in an instant.

“Honey, you're gonna be excellent out there! We're all very proud of you.” Mary said while hugging Y/N tightly as they both waited on the former's older son to come downstairs who was running late, as usual. She had grown incredibly close to the Winchester family over the years. They were her rock, especially Dean who was there with her at every step as she went through the separation of her parents.

“Are you and John going to join my parents at the ceremony? Someone needs to stop them before they end up killing each other.” She grimaced.

“Isn't this going to be the first time they are together in one single room, since their….you know-” Sam asked as he came out of the kitchen, a green smoothie in his hands. Dean might have been her best friend, her confidante, but Sam was the little brother she never thought she needed.

“First get that green drink outta my sight, I already feel like I'm gonna throw up. Second, you can speak about the divorce. It's not taboo and it was a long time coming. Everyone knew that.” Y/N reluctantly said. The separation of her parents might have been foreseeable but, nevertheless, it still hurt her to see her parents walkout in two separate ways once the divorce was finalized. The house had become much quieter these days which she was thankful for but she also felt the evident absence of her father.

“Mom and Dad will definitely be there!” Dean announced loudly as he came down the stairs. “Come on let's go. Don't wanna be late for our own graduation ceremony!” She could always count on him to make her day better.

“I should have told you.”

“W-what?” Y/N asked dumbfoundedly as Dean’s gruff voice broke her out of the reverie and pulled her back to reality. A minute passed when she noticed even if his hands were on the steering, he wasn't driving anymore.

“This-” she looked out of the window, “this isn't Jo’s place.”

“No, this is our place,” Dean said.

“Dean.” This was the last place she wanted to be at, let alone be here with Dean. It had taken every ounce of her strength to not run back to this place over the past few years whenever she missed her best friend, only to realize that he had left her in the dust on his path to fame and didn't care about her as much as she used to think. Too many memories were attached to this particular place.

“I missed this, Y/N.” He said, killing the engine and slowly opening the door on his side. Y/N understood what he was trying to do and her mind screamed at her in protest to not follow him but her heart told her to follow the man it belonged to.

Dean finally stepped out of the car and walked over to the closed door on her side. She opened the door herself before he could and stepped out as well with a huff. The place was the same as it ever was. “I haven't been here since graduation.” She blurted out.

“I should have told you,” Dean said as they started to walk to their spot. Y/N chose to remain quiet. “Ella, please say somethin’.”

“I am not your Ella anymore, Dean. Stop calling me that.” She said but this time it wasn't a whine, instead, she yelled it out. She was sick and tired of yearning for the man who had broken her heart several years ago and now she was scared that he was gonna leave her once again.

“You'll always be my Ella.” He said.

“The Prince didn't lie to Cinderella and leave her behind but you- it hurts me to remember how close we were then. You left me without even a simple goodbye, so no, I am not your Ella anymore.” She flinched when he reached out for her.

He had stopped walking now and so had she. Dean moved closer to her before standing exactly in front of her. His hands lightly traced her jaw as she looked up at him. She looked just as enchanting under the moonlight as he remembered. He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs gently caressed her cheeks. She had given up fighting herself now, driven only by instinct. All the walls that she had put up came crumbling down with one touch of his.

“Why do you think I didn't say goodbye to you?” Dean whispered.

“Maybe all the years that we spent together meant nothing to you.” Her voice was like a melody to his ears but the words broke his heart even further.

“Because it was too damn hard. When RC Records called me up three days before graduation, you were the first person I wanted to tell, but I couldn't, ‘cause if I did, I wouldn't have made it to where I am right now.” He said, not a trace of mirth on his face.

“I wouldn't have held you back.” It was simple. Y/N always wanted to stay in Lawrence and look over her mother's bakery shop, and that's what she ended up doing. She now owned the shop and her business was thriving. Dean had wanted to become a singer ever since he was ten when he was forced to play the Prince, opposite to Y/N’s lead. He had found his passion and she had always encouraged it, even when John had strongly protested against him choosing music as his major. “You know I always supported you.”

“I know that, but thinking about not seeing you every day made me not want to go. I kept imagining you upset and that's why I didn't have it in me to tell you about my break.” He said. Y/N grabbed his hands pushing them away from her face.

“You ended up making me sad anyway. So why the fuck are you back?” She was enraged.

“Ella-” Dean tried to come closer but she stepped back, “I came to see my family.”

“Then why are you wasting your time here with me?”

“Because you're the most important person in my life and every day I spent away from you, you were the only person on my mind.” Dean smiled.

“What?”

“You were the first thought when I woke up and the last thought when I went to sleep.” He said and pulled her close when she finally stopped fighting. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I know I am late and probably missed my chance, but five years in LA have taught me to take the risks. I love you, Ella.”

“I can't-” Dean’s smile felt but he quickly recovered.

“I-I understand.” He let out a dry chuckle, “You got a man back at home waiting for you. He sure is one lucky bastard.”

“No. You do not fucking understand! You are just so in your head, it's just-” She flailed her arms around in utter frustration. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to move on? I have been on so many dates but no man was ever enough for me, all because of your sorry ass! The Graduation Day - I knew you always thought of me as your best friend, so I had decided to ask you out myself,”

“Y/N-”

“No, let me finish. You have to fucking listen about how much pain you put me through these five years! The next day, I went to your house only to hear from your parents that you were on your way to LA. I fucking hate you!” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I fucking hate how much I still love you, Dean!”

His eyes widened in surprise as he kept opening and closing his mouth like a damn fish. He was unable to form a coherent sentence and so he cupped Y/N’s cheeks in his big, warm hands once more, but now he dipped down, tilting his face and pulling her in for a kiss. His teeth grazed her bottom lips, making her moan into his mouth. She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks as she found herself completely enamored by him. Her hands snuck to the back of his neck as she steadied herself. Her knees buckled under his hypnotic touch as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, her whole body tingled and toes curled up as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

“De,” Y/N tried to catch her breath when Dean finally let go of her lips, already missing the feel of her on him.

His hands traveled down her body, making her gasp aloud at the feel. He lowered his mouth as he started to leave a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck. “Dean, please. Don't.” Her three short words made him stop.

“Alright.” He gulped.

“I don't want to get my heart broken again, Winchester, I don't think I can survive it again.” Y/N knew he would return to LA within a week, and so she didn't want to take this any further. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, right?”

“I won't. I am not going back.” Y/N looked at him, surprise evident in her eyes, “I don't care about my career anymore. Five years without you was like living in hell and my bandmates are probably so tired of hearing how much I missed you. I will write my songs from here in Lawrence if it means that I'll be closer to you.”

“You would do that for me?” She asked sincerely.

“I would. I was a stupid kid back then but now I have realized that nothing's more important to me than you. I don't want to lose my Ella ever again.” He said, “I'm sorry for taking so long to understand that. There is no way-” His words were cut off as Y/N captured his lips with her own. The sudden kiss caught him off guard but he quickly pulled himself together to kiss her back. “Shit, Y/N-” he gasped when he felt his dick twitch. He picked her up in quick motion and went towards the car. Y/N giggled when her back lightly collided with Baby’s door. Dean dropped his head, nipping at the pulse point on her neck.

“Dean-” She moaned, which was better than any music he had ever made as his hands slipped under her dress, his fingers hovering over her soaked panties. Her thighs clenched in anticipation.

“You have no idea how long I dreamt of having you. You're soaked, sweetheart. ” He huskily said, his fingers hooking on the waistband of her cotton panties. “Tell me to stop and I will, in a heartbeat. No questions.”

“N-no. Don't stop.” Y/N cooed. Dean dragged down her panties which pooled at her feet. He picked it up and stuffed it into his pocket. Thankfully, there was no one around but the thrill of being out in the open with Dean got her even more hot and bothered. Her hands grasped onto his biceps tightly so that she wouldn't topple over when Dean slipped a finger into her tight pussy. Her mouth fell open, her head dropping on his shoulder as he started pumping slowly, every drag of his finger pushing her closer to the edge.

Dean felt his pants tighten as he heard the sweet moan of his name leave her lips. Her raspy voice was one he could hear all day long, her heavy pants tickling his skin. With one hand he unbuckled his belt, trying to relieve himself a little, but when a cry of pleasure left her lips as he slipped in another finger, he hoped that he wouldn't cream his pants like a freaking teenage boy.

Y/N felt the coil in her stomach tighten as she inched towards her climax. Dean quickened his pace, curling his fingers inside her and brushing her g-spot, each time eliciting a low moan out of her. “Dean….” She couldn't form any coherent words other than chanting his name over and over again and a moment later, the coil snapped as she felt herself coming undone. He delicately pulled his fingers out of her, which were covered in her juice. Dean reached behind her, yanking the door open as he nudged her to go in. She readily obliged and slid into the seat with shaky legs. He climbed into the backseat after her, closing the door behind him.

Her dress had ridden up her thigh, exposing her glistening pussy. Dean’s eyes darkened at the sight before him as he swiftly pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it somewhere in the front. He pushed her dress further up. She raised her hands as he successfully got her out of the garment and unhooked her bra. Y/N moved further back into the seat, her back resting against the door on the other side as Dean started to leave kisses down her body.

“Have you ever thought about this? ‘Cause I did, every freaking day.” Dean asked, kissing the valley between her breasts, the rumble of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

“E-every time I touched myself, I thought of you.” She said, gasping out loud at every word when his mouth found her breasts and started to suck on the soft skin, flicking a nipple with his tongue and twirling the other within his fingers.

“Oh-” Dean raised his head to look at her before he moved south, “Did you think about me between your legs just like this-” He said as he left kisses along her thigh, his stubble creating soft burns on her skin in its wake that she would definitely remember. He finally stopped at her nether regions, his hot breath fanning against her throbbing pussy. “Did you think about me tasting you like this?”

Y/N threw her head back in pleasure when his mouth latched onto her sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue flicking at her aching nub. Her hands traveled down to his head, her fingers getting tangled up in his soft hair and pulled at the strands, making him groan.

“Fuck-” She exclaimed as Dean hungrily devoured her, his tongue repeatedly assaulting her sensitive pussy, sucking needily on her bundle of nerves. Y/N threw her head back in pleasure as she felt the coil in your stomach tighten before a wave of pleasure washed over her. “Shit!” She gasped as Dean’s tongue lapped her juices hungrily.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good.” He panted before he unbuttoned his pants pushing them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection sprung from his confines. “Son of a bitch, I don’t have-” Y/N sensed his uneasiness.

“I’m on the pill.” She smirked as she stared at his toned body.

“Well, I’m clean.” She reached out to touch his stomach, hands then traveling down to his length. Dean dropped his head, biting down on his lips, “Y/N-” He pushed her hands away, smirking as he ran his hand along his hardened cock, giving it a few strokes, the tip beaded with precum. He looked at Y/N once and lined himself with her dripping entrance when she gave him a nod to go ahead.

His swollen tip teasingly nudged at her opening before he pushed himself into her.

“Shit Y/N-” Dean grunted, simultaneously as Y/N hissed out at the painful sensation at the beginning as he pushed himself into her, letting her adjust around his size before she told him to move. He circled his hips as he slowly pulled out, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside her, before pushing back in again, deeper than before.

“Holy fuck-” Y/N moaned out when he quickened his pace, hitting her g-spot repeatedly with every thrust as they both inched towards their release. Dean kissed her as he continued to thrust deep into her, their breathing growing erratic, the windows of the chevy fogged up and the car filled with their groans and moans as they both chased their release. She hooked her arms at the small of his back as he started to nibble at her sweet spot. His hand moved south, his thumb rubbing circles on her clit which further edged her.

“Shit De!” Y/N cried out loud as her walls fluttered around his pulsating length when she felt herself coming undone. Dean’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted into the crook of her neck before he spilled into her with one cry of her name, painting her walls with his seed. He dropped his head, trying to catch his breath before he gently pulled out.

“Fuck sweetheart.” Dean panted, beads of sweat lining his forehead as they both laid in each other’s arms, basking in the post-coital bliss. “Was this better than your fantasies? ‘Cause, ‘twas surely better than mine.” Dean smirked, reaching out to grab a piece of cloth to clean themselves up. “We should have done this sooner.”

“If only you hadn't been such a coward.” Y/n teased with a giggle.

“Your dumbass could have called me up. I wasted five years being one, terrified to hear how much you hate me.” He grumbled, cleaning up the mess on the seat. Honestly, she could have but she didn't ‘cause she was scared to hear the truth as well; that Dean had truly left her.

“So, you’re sayin’ we’re both a couple of dumbasses.” Y/N chuckled, putting on her bra.

“Your words, not mine.” Dean gave her a sly smirk. “The Winchester household will be so delighted, once they know I finally got my head out of my ass and looked at the beautiful woman right in front of me.” He was right in every sense. The Winchesters, all of them had always believed that those two would end up together. Everyone saw how in love they were except Y/N and Dean.

“Isn't it too early for the introduce-the-girlfriend-to-the-family thing?” She asked which got an eye roll out of the man. “Panties?”

“I don't have them.” Dean sneakily raised his hands.

“I saw you stuff them into your pocket.” He grabbed her dress from the front seat, throwing it at her.

“Put this on, or preferably, just don't.” He gave her a boyish smile, getting a raised eyebrow in reply, “Oh I'm not done with you. Gotta make up for the lost years, sweetheart.” Dean's eyes darkened at the thought as Y/N gulped, knowing she wouldn't be able to walk properly for weeks.

Feedback is highly appreciated!