#actually no sorry not allowed car explosion noise

[fishyfarms]

Obligatory 2024 Art Wrapped :) would post this over on my main but so much of it is Stardew Valley it felt wrong to Not post it here. Thank you to everyone who’s been following along! I’ve met so many people this year and made so many wonderful mutuals and I’m just so unbelievably grateful to be a part of this even if I’m not always the most active. Sending much love to everyone as we go into the new year! 🫶

[call-me-maggie13]

I’m bored and the guys at work are being goofy so here’s a list of no context things I’ve heard from The Boys™ recently.

“Call me a fake lesbian but I don’t really like girl in red. Clairo? Love. WILLOW? Besties. Hayley Kiyoko? Lesbian Jesus. But Girl in Red and I don’t really vibe. Sorry.”

“Maybe I’m losing my mind, but I wanna bite that truck.”

“Aye, watch your language.” “Will it do a flip?” “What?” “Watch it’s gunna do a flip!” [flips manager off]

“Have y’all heard about the Zuckerberg V. Musk fight? Okay let’s debate. Kanye or Swift, who would win? Actually. That wouldn’t be fair, Kanye never stood a chance. Okay. Obama or Trump? Fists only, no weapons.”

“Do you ever wonder if grass can feel? Like. What if it screams on a frequency I can’t hear every time I step on it? What if the fresh mowed grass smell is actually grass tears and blood?”

“I know we all agreed, but…”

“If lightning struck me right now, would y’all try to save me?”

“Sometimes I’m like ‘Hozier is a god.’ And sometimes I’m like ‘Hozier is just some guy.’”

“Someone threw away a black American Express card. Can I keep it? It’s not expired.”

“I’m not allowed to set off fireworks anymore. It’s not my fault I didn’t know they were actual explosions that could burn a house down. No, this wasn’t when I was a kid, this was like three months ago.”

“What do you think the sky tastes like?”

“When I was twelve, my mom hit me with her car backing out of the driveway and she didn’t even take me to the hospital. I think I broke my arm and I’m pretty sure that’s why my wrist does this. [shows wrist making clicking noise when he rolls it]”

“Okay. But. What if. Nope wait, I think that’s illegal.”

“God customers are stupid. Are you closed?? No lady, the sign says we’re closed because we’re open. It makes me want to eat a car battery.”

“If you could only eat one bug for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“What are y’all’s opinions on potato flavored chewing gum?”

“Can I start bringing my dog to work?”

“Can I break this? I know it’s already broken, I want to break it more.”

“I’m a simple man. I like when things go boom. That doesn’t mean I started the fire.”

“Sometimes I like to take a bath and pretend I’m a little potato getting boiled to make some mashed potatoes.”

“Why can’t I be a duck? Why do I have to be a person?”

“But if I just punch him in the face, I don’t have to worry about him being mean anymore.”

“Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. Mag - okay I’m bored now.”

“If I was a rock, I think I’d be a big blue smooth shiny rock. What rock would you be?”

“I have an announcement to make. Stalactites and stalagmites. That is all. Carry on.”

“Sorry, was that gay?”

“I think being an adult is all about being nice to yourself. And taxes, maybe.”

“Why does the dirt over here taste saltier than the dirt by the flowers?”

“No. If I’m not asking him about Taylor Swift, what makes you think I’d ask him about Gracie Abrams?”

“Can I make a list of everyone’s red flags?” “Only if you list their green flags too.”

“I had to change your contact name to Charles. I don’t know why Charles, I just panicked and picked the first name I could think of.”

“Sometimes I forget she’s your mom.” “She’s not my mom. Do you think she’s my mom?” “Not anymore.”

“God. Everyone wants to be Donna but no one wants to be Rachel. No one is Donna except Donna. Everyone else is Rachel. Or they’re Harold.” (Someone please tell me what this means, I have no idea what he’s talking about)

“Why do crickets taste like that?”

“Oh to be a silly little horse in a silly little field being taken care of by a silly little person I could crush like a bug beneath my silly little hooves.”

“Tell me more, tell me more, like does he have a car?”

“The world went to hell when autopsies started testing for poison. Women just can’t poison their husbands anymore. That was the true beginning of the downfall of society.”

“What happens if someone asks to take their motorcycle through the carwash?”

“You don’t have to file customer complaints if you eat the paper they’re written on.”

“And if I said I still haven’t forgiven John Wilkes Booth, what would you say?”

“I don’t say this lightly, but the Pedro Pascual edits on tiktok have confused me sexually.”

“I just pulled a dead bird out of some guy’s grill. Anyone hungry?”

“Taylor Swift might have forgiven him but that doesn’t mean I have to!”

“Why aren’t we allowed to have a company pet? Firefighters get Dalmatians, we should be allowed like. A fish or something.”

“I dreamt that I came to work yesterday and worked an entire shift, is there any way I can get that added to my pay?”

“My girlfriend is mad at me because I keep playing I’m Just Ken and telling her she’s Kenough.”

“Can we close early on October the thirteenth? Oh, no reason… On a completely unrelated note: what should I wear to the Eras Tour movie?”

“If my grandmother confessed to murdering my grandfather but it happened in like the eighties, do I have to report it? Hypothetically, of course.”

“Sometimes a man just needs to cry to mirrorball and tolerate it in his car. Sometimes he just needs to scream Death by A Thousand Cuts. Sometimes…”

“I accidentally just called a customer Mom and she gave me her phone number, what do I do?”

“It’s only blasphemy if you get caught. Do you really think God has time to listen to everything every single person says?”

“Sometimes I wish I was a woman but then I remember this is America and I thank the stars that I’m not. Sorry, Maggie.”

“Why is it so hard to find a stupidly rich woman searching for a trophy husband?”

“Do you think I could walk through the carwash instead of taking a shower?”

[after a guy’s day off] “I missed you guys yesterday. I wish I never had to leave.”

“My sister told me I was adopted and my mom got mad because she wasn’t supposed to but like. My parents are white. I’m black. I already knew.”

“I just had a child quote Revelations at me because I told him he shouldn’t drink the glass cleaner.”

“I forgot my shoes. Also, I just stepped in glass in the parking lot, someone should really clean that up.”

“I think everyone should be allowed to kill someone if they have a really good reason. I would kill the guy that called my sister a bitch because she didn’t want to sleep with him. Who would you kill?”

“Is… is that… not… normal?” [hint: it was not.]

“I stand with Sansa - I mean Sophie Turner.”

“I still don’t understand why I’m not allowed to punch customers in the mouth for being assholes to Maggie and Dru.”

“What kind of tree do you think I am?”

“Apparently I was supposed to listen to the new Olivia Rodrigo album with my girlfriend and now she’s upset with me for listening to it with y’all first.”

“Every night, I go to sleep and every morning, I wake up. How do I stop this cycle?”

[lovelikedestiny]

“Fuck!"

It's an exclamation from Nicky over the radio that makes Booker stop so abruptly that Nile runs full tilt into him; her face making acquaintance with his broad back and she just barely avoids accidentally shooting him in the ass with her gun.

"Damn it, Booker!" She hisses, heart pounding in fear of being overheard by the drug dealers who are about to be put through the wringer by them. "What the hell wa-" She begins in a whisper, irritated by what caused him to stop.

He interrupts her with a raised hand, signaling her to be quiet, and Nile obediently shuts her mouth. Of course, she knows how important it is on missions to agree upon something and trust each other, so she swallows her growing curiosity with difficulty, waiting dutifully instead.

For a handful of heartbeats, it seems like he's listening to something, but when Nile pricks up her ears, all she hears are the noises of the warehouse - the radio remains silent.

"Okay," Booker finally whispers, and starts moving again. "Let's keep going."

The closer they get to the drug dealers about to load another shipment, the sharper Nile's perception becomes, and she falls into the rhythm of objective focus that allows her not to be affected by overwhelming excitement or fear.

Booker gives her a small grin and nods wordlessly at her, silently counting with his fingers, ready to heckle the drug dealers through Andy and Joe on the other side. Three, two, o-

"Motherfucking shit!" The next curse rings out on Nile's radio and once again Booker freezes, pressing his back against one of the containers. One of his long arms also pushes Nile further into the shadows.

Booker's strange behavior deeply confuses Nile and she notices a drop of sweat slowly trickling down her temple. As he begins to retreat, pushing her further back as well, she braces herself against him with little success, but has to give in so as not to draw the enemies' attention to them after all.

Only when they are out of earshot, outside the warehouse, and the icy wind makes her shiver, she confronts him, irritated by now. "What are you doing? We were almost there! Did you get cold feet? Or did I miss something?" Nile actually always thought her perceptiveness was more than good. "We can't leave Andy and Joe alone with them!"

"Andy and Joe are on their way back to the car, too," Booker replies, his breath a bright cloud in the night air. "The mission's off."

At first, Nile thinks she has misheard. "O…sorry, what?! Are you kidding me?"

Calmly, Booker stows the explosives he was going to attach to the vans in his backpack. "Do I look like I'm kidding?" He asks, slightly amused, and Nile has no idea what he finds so funny.

"Booker?" Andy's voice crackles in Nile's ear.

"Already on our way," Booker answers her unspoken question, and Nile has the hated feeling that she is missing something important.

"All right, see you at the car."

As Booker starts walking the way they'd just taken with careful caution, Nile trudges behind, grumbling.

"Could someone explain to me what has fucking changed with our plan in there?" Even though she's been part of the team for several months, the others continue to tend to forget that, as a newcomer, she has no idea about insiders or secret maneuvers.

Booker takes pity on her with an apologetic look and slows his steps so she can catch up to him. "Nicky swore," is his only explanation, and Nile is about to punch him in the shoulder.

"I’ve noticed. So?" She asks impatiently.

"Have you ever heard Nicky swear?"

A little, Nile feels like a student that is pointed towards the answer of a riddle by a teacher who wants her to solve it independently. But as she ponders Booker's question, she's surprised to realize that she's actually never heard Nicky curse.

Part of her protests firmly, because everyone curses at some point, right? But even as she strains her brain and digs into memories, she can't find a moment when Nicky had cursed in any form.

Last Monday, half his shoulder had been ripped off in an explosion, and though Nile had been able to tell he was in great pain, Nicky had endured the healing of the injury with a stoic expression.

Yesterday he had accidentally burned dinner, but instead of swearing, Nicky had merely sighed and then made a delicious meal from scratch.

"Nicky doesn't just swear," Booker puts her thoughts into words. "Which, by implication, means the shit is going to hit the fan when he does swear."

"Makes sense," Nile reluctantly admits, suddenly strangely glad to be out of the warehouse, to which she gives an uneasy look. "But the first time Nicky cursed, you didn't abort the mission yet."

"I was waiting to see if he would swear a second time." Booker seems to have been seized by an inner turmoil at Nicky's curses, showing Nile that this is indeed a serious matter.

"It's very simple, Nile. One curse is something like a red flag, okay?Swearing twice means immediately canceling the mission, and three curses means we should take to our heels." Subconsciously, Booker's walking pace increases and Nile struggles to keep up with his long legs.

"Keep that in mind. Got our asses saved a lot of tim-"

An Italian curse cuts Booker off. Even though Nile's Italian is a little rusty it must be quite a heavy curse by the face Booker pulls.

And Nile starts running.

[phantomrose96]

Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

[effymaybe]

Better love hard

Pairing: Jennie x Lisa

Warnings: Plain smut, have fun

Summary: Lisa comes back home after almost a month of tiring promotions. Luckily, Jennie is waiting for her with open arms. And her boxers tight around her hips.

(Cedits: https://ar.pinterest.com/pin/470907704793255000/)

Lisa mumbles a few grateful words to her manager before getting out of the car.

She’s exhausted. She at least had the vision of exchanging a pair of killer high heels for her comfiest sneakers just before the plane ride. Now, she grants herself the benefit of swaying lazily from one feet to the other, leisurely making her way back inside her home.

It’s been a lot. Almost one month of chaotic promotions abroad, show after show, event after event, and both her body and mind are currently begging for some well-deserved rest.

She opens the door carefully, mindful of the time. The moon has been shining spotlessly for long by now, and Lisa knows, just by the immediate silence he finds in the living room, that her cats must be all spread out throughout the house, snoring after a day of jumping on one another.

Then, she steps further into the hall and makes a pause. Her ears catch the sound of muffled pop music rumbling from the kitchen, mixed with the velvety tones of a smooth, sweet voice.

Lisa’s heart grows three sizes in her chest and a rush of pure joy brings a dizzy smile in her face. Out of all the things she missed from the comfort of her routine, her girlfriend stands out as the one she craved the most.

A new wave of energy tingles through her limbs just by the prospect of having the brunette pressed into her arms. In a rush, Lisa moves to the kitchen, her pulse already quickening under her skin.

She makes a full pause just by the kitchen door, her doe stare growing immediately gassy at the sight before her.

Jennie is mindlessly working on the stove, softly swaying her hips as she hums along the rhythm of the upbeat music. Her hair falls in shiny, natural waves until her mid-back, just some inches after the end of her worn off crop top. The warm lights hanging above her moving figure hit her just in the right places, creating bright spots and caves of shadows that make Lisa’s breath hitch in disbelief.

But most importantly, the rest of the outfit. The heating system of the house allows the brunette to keep it light, merely choosing a pair of tight boxers to attempt to cover just barely half of her curves. Lisa needs to make the actual physical effort of not drooling out of honest craving. Proudly, in bold black letters contrasting to stark white, the boxer’s band sings her birth name, again and again.

The blonde does not wait any longer. The slight tickle of a possessive emotion puts her into motion, finally, finally letting herself be noticed by her girl.

“Well, isn’t this a lovely sight to come back home to?”

Jennie turns around first in a startle but then letting a grin spread open and wide in her stunned face.

Lisa scoots her into her embrace with delicacy.

“Oh my god! You are back!”, the brunette squeals, letting her lean arms wrap themselves around Lisa’s neck. She needs to tiptoe slightly, and the small gesture makes the blonde tighten her grip out of pure adoration.

“I’m back”, she answers simply, both to her girlfriend and to herself. A sweet, enchanting scent overwhelms her senses and Lisa can’t help but to let her nose run through the brunette’s neck.

Jennie sighs, her shoulders visible relaxing. The long distance took a toll on her, too.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I’d be over. It’s just- I missed you so much… oh”.

Her speech is cut short by the striking sensation of her girlfriend pressing open-mouthed kisses against her throat. Jennie leaves her mouth hanging open, blissed out.

“I love you”, Lisa mutters, her mouth still burning against the shorter girl’s skin, “I love you here. I love this. I love you like this”, she whispers finally, her long fingers itching down to grasp Jennie’s ass.

The brunette lets out a mewling sound before desperately searching down with her face, silently asking for attention.

The blonde does not disappoint. She catches Jennie’s lips in a slow, deep kiss that has them both melting into soft whimpers. Lisa’s fingers trace the embroidery of her name almost reverently before searching down to press her girlfriend against her once again. When Jennie takes a second to breathe, the tallest girl ties their tongues together, curling just enough to make the brunette’s knees fail under her weight.

“Oh, are we needy?”, Jennie manages to tease, her voice coming out rough and breathless.

Lisa bites her lower lip as she presses the shortest girl against the counter.

“I don’t know”, she answers, angling down to suck on the brunette’s collarbones, making her shiver. “Are we?”

The blonde’s long fingers sneak up the old crop top. Steady indents move around Jennie’s chest with utmost skill, playful, and the brunette can’t help but to buck her hips against the tallest girl, growing impatient.

“The stove”, she manages to utter, her body betraying her words as she keeps aching towards Lisa’s mouth. “I’m making your favorite”.

The blonde chuckles darkly. The teasing sound sends a dull shock right into Jennie’s core. Lisa merely leans over to her right to turn the device off before going back to her waiting girlfriend.

“Oh, love. This is my favorite”.

Lisa pulls Jennie into a messy, loud kiss as she accommodates to press her toned thigh just in between her legs. The brunette whimpers openly, both out of relief and renewed need. She moves her hips by her own at first finding delight in the sharp friction.

“You look so pretty like this, Jen”, the blonde murmurs, her voice mixing with Jennie’s broken sounds. “So needy against my leg. Wetting my boxers”.

Lisa rises her thigh just a bit, and the brunette whines. She keeps thrusting up in a steady pace, growing more and more desperate, the feeling on her core both delicious and maddening.

“Lisa- please. Love, I’m-”

She wants more. Anything. She feels the burning in her lower stomach growing explosive, threatening.

“You want my fingers, sweetie?”

“Yes”, Jennie chants. Her movements falter slightly. “Yes, please”.

Lisa grumbles in disagreement before grasping her girlfriend’s hips tightly. She pushes up and down her leg in a delirious pace, coaxing a rough moan to escape from the brunette’s throat. Her tongue melts into the heat of the shortest girl’s mouth once again.

“No”, she states between kisses. “I want you to come right into my boxers”.

Jennie can only hiss between her girlfriend’s assault. She’s so riled up, humping against her leg in utter need, letting out lewd noises without control. Her eyes have rolled up against her skull and it feels so, so fucking good-

“You like that, angel? Putting my clothes on just to let everybody know that you are taken?”

The brunette whines, nodding desperately. She’s so close, steadily clenching around nothing. Lisa’s draws tight circles on her breast before deciding to suckle with abandon.

“So fucking hot. And all mine, aren’t you?”

The thrusts become more shallow. Lisa lets her right hand fall sharply against her ass in a half-playful gesture.

It makes Jennie see stars.

“Tell me who you belong to, Jen. Come on”.

“You- ah. You, Lisa. I’m yours”, the brunette mumbles between broken moans, and the blonde angles her thigh up.

It’s enough. She’s falling into a toe-curling white bliss that makes her mind grow hazy. It almost hurts, shaking desperately while feeling so empty, and she’s about to whimper a complaint when her girlfriend’s fingers fill her up in a whim.

“Oh- Oh! Lisa, fuck. Please!”

The blonde hums, tonguing her neck. She lets her hands fall into a gentle motion, long indents pressing a memorized patter inside her girlfriend.

“It’s okay, sunshine. Let me take care of you. You are so good to me”.

Jennie is left with no options, really, but even if she had some, she’d chose staying like that, grinding down her lover’s hand, eyes closed and plump lips wide open. It’s perfect. The well-known heat spreads throughout her body once again, and she feels so complete, so full, so loved.

She is pulled into another kiss and Lisa’s movements grow quicker. Wet, squelching noses fill out the room alongside the still running music and it’s all overwhelmingly beautiful. Jennie clenches around her girlfriend’s fingers.

“That’s it, love. Come for me. You are so beautiful. Fuck, I wish I could fuck you all the time”.

It’s both the prying thumb added to the mixture and the dirty words whispered by her girlfriend that make Jennie fall down once again, this time in a softer, more lingering rush of bliss that has her panting against a needy kiss.

It takes her a few seconds to regain her senses. In the midst, Lisa pulls away carefully but still locks her around her embrace.

“I love you so much”, Jennie murmurs finally, her cat-like gaze growing softer as she focuses on her girlfriend. “I missed you so much, too. Never leave for that long again”.

Lisa lets her nose rub against the brunette’s.

“Then move in”, she simply states. “We’ve been together for so long, and- I just… I want to have you all the time. I know it would probably be a bit messy at-”

“Yes”.

Lisa blinks twice before smiling widely.

“But first, let me return the favor, you experienced traveler”. Jennie murmurs, her smooth voice dropping an octave, “and probably take my undies off. This one’s completely ruined”.

The blonde closes her eyes at the feeling of her girlfriend’s lips biting her earlobe.

“No worries, love. You won’t be needing then anytime soon”.

[codenamed-queenie]

Nap Time

Hear me out.

When you work the graveyard shift busting baddies and crushing cases, you likely average about two, maybe three hours of sleep a night. At most. There’s only so much time in the day, right? And Timothy Jackson Drake is not the only member of his family who’s dangerously sleep-deprived. 

So, upon Alfred’s insistence (and many isolated incidents involving brick walls, hot coffee, shaving cream, and a lack of pants)--

A bargain was struck. Deals were made. Schedules were rearranged. Employers and Teachers were generously bribed. 

All for one minor, but critically crucial thing:

Family Nap Time

It was actually Duke who had the idea, to everyone’s surprise. He stepped into the manor one day and witnessed a state of chaos on a scale only achievable by a family of the World’s Greatest Detectives:

Dick had climbed on top of the fridge and curled into a fetal position, clutching a cup of coffee like his very life depended on it. 

His eyes were unfocused, staring into the eyes of demons nobody else could see.

Jason was screaming at the toaster in Portuguese and hitting it repeatedly with a whisk. Said toaster was on fire.

Steph was dutifully trying to put out the fire with the extinguisher Alfred always kept within reaching distance of the oven (for obvious reasons). 

The only problem? She was nowhere near the toaster.

Instead, she was spraying the potted Ficus on the opposite end of the kitchen, screaming ‘aaaaayyyyyyyyyy’ in complete monotone. 

Harper, who’d ‘spent the night’ to catch a quick hour and a half of sleep, was perched, bird-like, on the bar stool at the counter squeezing mustard into her Frosted Flakes. She stared, unblinking, at the bowl. 

Whether she thought it was milk, or whether she was perfectly aware of what was in her hand and just didn’t care what she was doing is unclear. 

Damian was hugging a struggling Alfred the cat like a teddy bear, and standing with his face in the corner of the room. Unmoving. Just...standing there. 

Tim was wearing swim trunks (they were actually Dick’s, and had little yellow rubber duckies on them) and sitting in the kitchen sink. Said sink was running. Tim’s head was tipped back. He stared at the ceiling while water continued to overflow onto the floor. 

Cass was nowhere to be seen. At least, at first. 

Bruce walked in, wearing nothing but a pair of his best underwear and Selina’s fluffiest bathrobe. He was holding a carton of orange juice. He nodded at Duke, and, as the most lucid of the bunch, said, 

“Morning, son. Breakfast?”

He stepped over to the fridge, and Cass was clinging koala-style to his back. 

Whether Bruce was aware of this fact was also unclear. 

Duke was fine. He operated during the daylight hours, and therefore had the best REM cycle in the family. But still...he had Concerns. 

So, collaborating with Alfred (a.k.a. the Only One Anyone Actually Listens To) they came up with Family Nap Time. 

The rules are simple:

At exactly 6am EST report to Wayne Manor

Family Nap Time shall take place at least three (3) times per week

Refer to the Family Group Messages for more info

Bring: 

Your fluffiest blanket

If you do not have a fluffiest blanket, one will be provided for you

One or more pillow(s)

Body Pillows are Highly Encouraged

(But if necessary, a younger sibling will serve the same purpose)

Fuzzy or Comfy Pajamas (and Socks)

Not required

(But you must be wearing CLOTHES, MASTER JASON)

A raffle shall be had each week to determine who gets to pick the white noise played in the background.

Those who would like to opt out of background noise will be supplied with foam earplugs. 

No, Master Timothy, the Bee Movie Script is not adequate white noise.

Master Jason, please take this seriously. Sirens, car horns, and explosions are not conducive to a positive sleep environment. I don’t care if that is what helps you sleep at night, why can’t you be more like Miss Cassandra and select wind chimes or ocean waves?

Everyone shall gather in the living room. 

You are free to sleep anywhere you would like

Couches, the rug, by the hearth, all are excellent choices. 

No, Master Timothy, you may not sleep in the chimney

Master Dick, the coffee table is an...interesting choice, but--

Miss Brown, please keep your hands to yourself

Especially within view of young Master Damian.

No cellular devices allowed

This means all of you

Yes, ALL of you

Even you Master Bruce, don’t give me that look

The Lights will be dimmed, and the curtains drawn.

This signals that it is time to Sleep

Glowsticks are banned, Miss Brown, I’m sorry. 

Everyone must sleep for at least 3 hours, but you are free to stay as long as you would like. 

Within reason

We made an exception one time, Master Timothy

But you cannot continue to spend the week on the sofa, no matter how little sleep you’ve gotten this past month.

There’s actual work that needs to be done

Failure to attend shall result in Mandatory Leave from all patrols and other related Vigilante Activity, to allow for the opportunity to sleep on your own time.

Either way, Sleep is a NECESSITY not a SUGGESTION

Needless to say, there’s some bumps in the road, and a few debates to be settled and rules to be tweaked. But all in all? Family Nap Time is a huge hit.

The rest of the heroes in the Super Community are well aware of this practice, as well. 

Tim was teased about it at a Titans’ briefing only once. (The other Titans are still attending group therapy.)

Roy negged Jason about it a few times, then stopped once he started to notice how the dark bags under his friend’s eyes started to slowly disappear. 

The Birds of Prey pick up the slack while Babs heads over to Wayne Manor to join the siesta festivities (Siestivities?) She always helps Alfred make chamomile tea for the others. 

And lastly, 

Barry Allen, the poor fool, burst into Wayne Manor one day and shouted something about an emergency in space that the League needed Bruce for, asap!

Twelve heads perked up out of a nest made of pillows, sheets and blankets set up in the living room, glaring daggers

It was at that moment, Barry knew

He. F****d. Up.

All he remembers is the unholy sound of shrieking, fingernails, fists, and being stuffed somewhere dark (the broom closet)

Anything past that? Gonzo.

Wally had to pick him up after Alfred gave the all-clear.

It’s become a sacred, but unspoken, rule for any hero outside of Gotham: 

Let the Bats Sleep...or else

[backtobackbakubabe]

Leaving my Love Behind Part 2

Bakugo x Reader

Words : 2031

Reader hasn’t seen Bakugo in almost ten years but when her boyfriend goes missing she all but begs him to help her find him and get him back from a notorious gang leader.

************************************************************************

You had insisted you could get an uber back to your place and meet Bakugo somewhere afterwards. You honestly just didn’t want him seeing where you lived. It wasn’t in the nicest neighborhood and you knew he would probably think less of you for living in such a shabby place.

“No that doesn’t make any sense. It just waists time. Just let me give you a ride and we can leave from there.” He had his arms crossed now and his feet set. You knew this stance well. It was his ‘I’m a stubborn ass who isn’t going to budge or compromise in way’ stance. You had seen it many times before, whether it be in training or even on one of the many nights you hung out after class.

“We’re not in high school anymore Bakugo. You can’t just stomp your foot and get your way. I told you I’m fine with meeting up later. I need to shower and pack and you’ll just slow me down by nagging me every 5 minutes about how long I’m taking.” You mirrored his stance, looking him dead in the eye.

He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. You both stood there in awkward silence just staring at each other. Neither of you planning to give in.

Out of nowhere he let off a small controlled explosion off of his palm. The sudden loud noise startling you and making you blink.

“HAH! You blinked! I win, I’m driving. Let’s go.” Bakugo was grabbing his keys as he slipped his shoes on.

Your mouth gaped as your eyebrows knit together, “You CHEATER!”

He just shrugged as he held the door open waiting for you to follow him out of the apartment, “Look at who’s stomping their foot now? Stop being such a brat and let’s get moving. You’re burning daylight.”

You made your way to the door, stopping just before you crossed the threshold looking at his feet. “Fine… Just… Just don’t judge me okay? Not all of us get paid an obscene amount of money to play hero.”

You could feel him tense up a little before giving you a light shove through the door. “Joke’s on you because I’d make fun of you regardless.” He turned to lock the door behind him. “But because you asked so nicely, I’ll call a temporary truce until after we’ve left your house.”

He followed your directions back to your place. His grip on the steering wheel getting tighter the closer he got. He had promised to not say anything, but he also hadn’t expected it to be this bad. The thought of you living here made his skin crawl. But what really got to him was the overwhelming guilt churning in his stomach knowing that this was somewhat his fault. What you did for him all those years ago allowed him to live his dream as a hero, but it had also condemned you to this life. When you said he owed you yesterday in the rain, you were right. He did owe you, and it wasn’t until now that he realized just how much.

He finally pulled into a visitor spot outside your apartment building. Your fingers nervously fidgeted with the edge of your shirt, “Uh, you can just wait here. I won’t be too long. Fifteen minutes tops.”

He gulped. On one hand he didn’t want to leave his car here unattended, but on the other hand he didn’t really want to leave you unattended either. Knowing you’d never let him in if he was being overprotective, he told a white lie. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to come inside. I need to use the bathroom.”

You hovered with one foot out of the car. “Sure. I guess that’s fine. Just like I said before, try not to judge me. I know that goes against every cell in your body, but please try.”

He followed closely behind you and you could almost feel the disapproval rolling off of him in waves. You had to walk up 3 flights of stairs before reaching your floor and the whole time you were trying to remember what state you had left you place in? Had you remembered to wash the dishes in the sink? Or were they still ‘soaking’? Had you put your clean laundry away or were they still in a pile on your couch? Did you even remember to take the trash out? You were in an absolute spiral.

You took a deep breath while giving him one last pleading look before unlocking your door. You tried to hold the door close to you as you peaked in, in an awkward attempt to check the status of your living space while hiding it from Bakugo’s view.

Impatient as ever he huffed as he pushed the door all the way open. “Tch. Let’s just get this over with.” You glared at him but all he did was shrug, “What? I told you I needed to take a piss.”

You rolled your eyes before pointing in the direction of your bathroom. “It’s that door there. I’ll pack first, and I’ll shower when you’re done.” Without waiting for a response, you sprinted to your room and started packing. You didn’t know what you would need but you tried to stay practical and pack light. The only thing you packed that wasn’t an absolute necessity was your switch so you could kill time while on the road. It didn’t take up much space so it should be fine.

You took one last glance around your room. You made a silent promise that the next time you were here, it would be with Kiyo back home and safe.

You rejoined Bakugo who was being busy being nosy. “Does Bilbo live here with you?” He picked up a picture of you as a child and studied it.

You groaned as you took the picture back from him and put it back in its place. “Yes. KIYO does live here as well. Why?”

He didn’t seem to like that answer. But he just shrugged, “No reason. Just found it odd that there’s no pictures of him. Or like any evidence at all that a guy even lives here.”

You pushed past him on the way to the bathroom, “I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but he does live here. In fact, he paid for most of the furniture.” You slammed the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. What was he trying to imply? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but it made you uncomfortable anyways.

Your shower was quick. You were in a hurry to get on the road. You braided your wet hair before once again rejoining Bakugo who this time was rummaging through your refrigerator. “What are you looking for?”

His head had been so deep in the fridge he hadn’t heard you coming and he jumped slightly at the sound of your voice making his bump his head on the door. “Shit! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

You leaned on the kitchen counter putting your head in your hand. “I thought you were supposed to have some crazy bionic hearing now or something.”

He looked at you like you had two heads, “That’s not how hearing aids work dumbass. I hear better with them then I do normally, but I can’t hear shit normally so…” You could feel a blush hint at the tips of your ears. You didn’t mean to upset him. “I was looking for anything we could take with us as road snacks but… you have like no food here that’s not microwavable.”

“What did I say about judging me?”

He raised his hands in defense. “I wasn’t judging, just making an observation. I personally could never live on such a disgusting diet. But then again you never really did care what you put in your mouth.”

You picked up the closest thing to you which happened to be a bag of chips. This teasing wasn’t anything new. This is how you used to be in high school. The two of you had been best friends, practically inseparable at one point in your lives. He was a hot head and you were sassy. You fed off each other’s toxic energy and were always either fighting or joking with each other, and if you were being honest there was rarely a difference between the two.

He caught the chips without a problem, “I’m sorry y/n. I was wrong… you do have something that’s not microwavable.”

You just glared at him. “I refuse to stoop to your level, you immature porcupine. Can we just get going already? You were the one crying about burning daylight earlier.”

You could see he was trying to hide the smirk on his face, “Oh yeah, for sure. We can get gong as soon as you tell me where it is we’re going.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but then you realized you actually didn’t know. “Uh… I was kind of hoping you would have a lead. I mean you told me you were already investigating Big Shadow right? Where do you think we should start?”

He rolled his eyes as he pulled the map function on his phone. “Okay so there’s five known places that he and his men operate out of. A casino, a restaurant, an auto shop, a bar, and a strip club. I say we check them out one by one and see what we find out.”

You nodded as you looked all the locations he had marked on the map and pointed to the restaurant. “I think this one is probably the closest to his last known location.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, “That also happens to be the furthest one from us. By like a lot. That’s half a day’s drive from here. What the hell was he doing all the way out there?”

“He works for some security company. He installs security systems. Sometimes he has to travel really far to do it.” You shrugged as if that wasn’t suspicious.

The more Bakugo learned about your boyfriend the more his suspicions grew. Cheeto probably had a secret side job that wasn’t exactly legal and Bakugo think’s he pissed off the wrong guy. You would be lucky if you even found him alive, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. You needed the closure.

So that’s how you found yourself back in his car playing 20 questions. He had said it would help pass time while also catching up on what you guys had missed out on the past few years. You were hesitant at first because the Bakugo you knew was never the talkative or sharing type. So, the fact that not only was he willing to play this stupid game but was his idea., well that really freaked you out.

Little did you know he was using this game to basically integrate you to learn more about your shady boyfriend. It grated on his nerves how happy you guy while talking about him. How your eyes lit up as you said his name. He tried to convince himself it was because you were his friend and he didn’t want to see you get hurt by some asshole. But deep down he had to admit there was a more logical source for this irritation. There was a chance he was jealous.

Bakugo had had a crush on you almost all through high school up until the day you were forced to drop out. He didn’t see or talk to you after that. The guilt ate him alive that he never even tried. Part of him wondered what would have happened if he had. Would your life be any different now? Would you still be living on the shitty end of town with a dead-beat boyfriend and an empty fridge?

He’d be true to his word. He was going to help you find your boyfriend. But he was also going to help you realize all the ways you don’t need him. He was going to use this time to remind you who you are. A strong ass independent women.

**********************************

Tags : @spicy-therapist-mom @runrabbitrun3

[atsukashii]

❝soft hours❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS:  ➛ The world knows Katsuki Bakugou as the explosive number two pro hero. You know him as your husband who is soft for only three people on the planet; you and your children.  

» CHARACTER PAIRING: prohero!katsuki bakugou x reader

» WORD COUNT: 3.3k

» GENRE: pro-hero!katsuki, aged up characters, dad bakugou

» WARNINGS: swearing, fluff to the max & dad katsuki

« masterlist || ao3 »

Being a mother is hard work. 

You aren’t sure how your own made it look so damn easy, because it is anything but. When it was just you, your husband, and your son it was easy enough. But adding another baby to the mix? 

You have never been more tired in your entire life.

For the past month of her life, Koharu had been a good sleeper, with a chill and calm temperament that you, your mother, and mother-in-law; Mitsuki Bakugou all agreed did not come from your husband. But the past two days were a lot different. She had regressed... A lot. With Katsuki back at work, barely able to take time off due to being a high ranking pro hero, you were left to your own devices with the newborn. He had offered to help of course, but you had this. How hard could it be? You’d said confidently.

You’re not so confident now.

Just yesterday, you had struggled to put her to sleep when Katsuki came and managed to do it in less than ten minutes. And honestly, for a second were jealous of your husband. But then he had stumbled over nothing, swearing like a sailor and the wailing began again.

“Suki, don’t swear at the baby!” You had laughed

“I didn’t swear at the baby sweetheart, I swore at the fucking toy Kazuto left on the floor”

“Suki!”

“Kazuto, how many times do I have to tell you to pick up your toys once you're done playing with them?”

“Sorry, dad!” That moment had made you feel a lot better about your parenting abilities. 

Today, however, with Katsuki out on patrol, and your son at preschool, it left you and Koharu alone for some girl time. Time, that was spent with you completely frazzled and desperate to help your baby to stop crying and go back to sleep.

But. Nothing. Was. Working. 

After four hours, she finally fell asleep purely out of exhaustion, but not before you had called your own mother, crying on the phone. You weren’t a bad mother, you were just adjusting… Right? All parents had off days with their children, no one was perfect. Though when you had picked up your phone in a moment of peace and mistakenly opened up Instagram, you took one look at a young influencer and her designer baby, looking like she stepped out of a damn magazine… You couldn’t help but compare it to the sweats you wore to bed the night before that you still hadn’t changed out of, the spit up on your shirt, and the bags under your eyes. This is normal, you’d had to remind yourself over and over again as you had put your daughter back into her crib.

Stirring the curry you quickly threw together for dinner, you are ripped from your gloomy thoughts as the noise of the front door opening meets your ears. The door was quickly followed by the voice of a very energetic three-year-old carrying what you know to be the Red Riot merch backpack he takes everywhere. It was a gift from his Uncle Kirishima that Katsuki hates, but puts up with for the sake of his son's happiness. You also know that he has a Chargebolt T-shirt in his closet that he wears to preschool sometimes and cherishes it dearly. His favorite though, is his mini grenade toys based on Katsuki’s own hero costume. For Kazuto’s first birthday, you’d had a hero theme and you couldn’t help but dress him up like your husband, but when you did - with his white-blonde hair and red eyes - he looked like a tiny Katsuki. It was too cute. 

“And-and then he kicked the villain SO HARD that he flew across the sky! He’s so cool!” Explains Kazuto, jumping up and down in excitement. 

“Mmhmm,” Katsuki adds, making it sound like he was paying attention, and encouraging his son to keep rambling about his enormous love for heroes. You won’t be surprised if he follows in his father's footsteps and becomes a pro hero in the future, with his quirk already arrived and causing havoc through your home. 

Your own quirk - Bloom; allowing you to create whatever kind of flora you want, wherever you want, had gotten you into the general studies course at U.A. Which is where you had met your platonic soulmate, Mina Ashido. You had instantly clicked with her when you had met at the end of your first year, and then through her, you met Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Katsuki. At first, you hadn’t known what to think of the explosive blonde, and he didn’t seem to want much to do with you. That was until one day when you and Mina had convinced them all to hang out at an arcade, a villain attacked the street outside. Being not in the Hero course and not having a provisional license, you had left your friends to do their thing. It wasn’t however until the end that you had noticed a young boy, crying and calling for his mother. The villain had a super strength quirk and ended up throwing cars out of his way in an attempt to escape. Seeing what was about to happen before it did, you had lunged into action, throwing yourself over the boy and activating your quirk around you to create a wall of wooden spears the size of Redwoods. You had saved the child, gotten the lecture of a lifetime from Katsuki that ended in him confessing more than he wanted about how he felt about your safety. You were dating a month later and had been together ever since. You had also discovered what you wanted to do after school that day. Deciding you wanted to help people, you became a social worker that helps children who have lost their families.

Your son Kazuto’s quirk was closer to yours than your husband’s quirk, with the three-year-old having the ability to manipulate earth. His favorite thing was watching Avatar: The Last Airbender and trying to recreate what the Earth Benders did - in your living room, much to your chagrin. And you had a feeling that Koharu’s quirk was going to be something like Katsuki’s due to the fact that the baby smelt similar to your husband. 

“Hi, mum!” Kazuto shouts loudly, poking his head in the kitchen. He flashes you a smile broken by a new missing tooth, before racing down the hallway like he is set on a permanent setting of a sprint. 

“Hi you two,” You say, smiling as your husband comes into the kitchen in his casual street clothes, opting to change at the agency. 

“Hang up your bag Kazuto!” Bakugou yells after him and you pray that you have remembered to shut the nursery door. You hear a muffled response form your three-year-old before the sound of his feet dashing up the staircase and the momentary silence that follows has you sighing in relief. She's still out.

Walking over to you, Katsuki wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head on your shoulder. His strong arms pull you back to his chest as he looks over your shoulder to see what you’re cooking. Really, the quick curry was a bit pathetic, but after your long day, you didn’t have the willpower to cook anything fancy. As is sensing the tension in your muscles, Katsuki didn’t say a word about the food, which was a first. You were actually a good cook, but your husband was better and loved to tease you about it any second he could. So the fact that he currently stands behind you not saying a word was odd. 

“Your mother called me today.” Katsuki murmurs, his voice soft and full of concern. You sigh glumly knowing where this conversation is going. You had hoped your mother wouldn’t say anything to Katsuki after you’d called her today, in tears from frustration and insecurities falling from your lips like a boiling pot. It had been a bad day, everyone was allowed to have some bad days.

“Sweetheart, if you need help with the baby-” 

“It’s really fine Suki, it was just an off day.” You say, leaning your head back on his chest and tilting it back just enough so that you could meet his ruby gaze. “Besides, you can’t take any more time off work.” Leaning back up again, you grab the wooden spoon and stir the red sauce. Katsuki lets out a breath before moving with you, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“I can take a fucking day off Y/n.” He mutters against your skin. A shiver runs up your spine and spreads down your arms, making your hair rise. Even after all these years, he still has the ability to render you to a pile of mush. 

“Your team will have my head if you take another day off, Suki.” You point out.

“Then I’ll blast them to hell after I fire them.” His response makes you smile, as he turns you around in his arms. His signature scowl covers his face, but it's the concern in his eyes that has your heart squeezing tight. He’s really worried, you realize. “Let me help you, sweetheart.” 

“Suki-” The sound of Koharu’s ear-piercing wails breaks the silence and has you resting your forehead on your husband's chest. “I’ve got her.” He says, placing a kiss to the crown of your head and giving your hips a reassuring squeeze before slinking out of the kitchen. You are so lucky to have him. 

To this day, Katsuki is still blunt and rash with the media, but people don’t really get to see the side of him that comes out with his family. He tries not to let his friends even witness it because they all give him endless shit about how much of a softie he is for his family. He denies it to hell whenever one of them brings it up, but after both the kids were born, Katsuki cried. Not a lot, just a few stray tears that engraved itself into your mind so heavily. With a sappy smile, you move the curry off the stove and begin dishing it up. As you finish, Kazuto comes wandering in on his own accord which surprises you. Normally, either you or Katsuki would have to go and get him or yell that dinner was done for the three-year-old to make an appearance. 

His vermillion gaze meets yours, and smiles. “Dad sent me down, he’s trying to put Koko to sleep,” Kazuto explains. You nod in understanding, walking the food over to the dining table. You only serve portions for you and your son, knowing that there's a chance Katsuki might not make it back down in time to eat with you. Once you are seated, you look at Kazuto and smile which is enough of an open look to make him start rambling about his day. Pro Hero’s are the first thing to come up, re-explaining the battle that one of his teachers had shown him through lunchtime, followed by his friends and then what he ate for lunch - as if you hadn’t been the one to make his lunch.

“It’s ‘Bring your parents to class day’, soon. Will you come?” His words shock you, and for a moment you just sit there blinking at your son. Kazuto looks up at you with such hope in his eyes, it makes you want to cry.

“You don’t want your dad to go?” You ask. You love Kazuto endlessly and would do anything for the sake of your children's happiness and safety, but you know that Kazuto and Katsuki have a special connection. One built on trust, love, and how much Kazuto looks up to his father as a pro hero. He truly is his father's biggest fan and honestly, it's beautiful. 

“It’s during the day, so he will probably have work. And I want you to come, you're a hero too mummy! You help save kids and help them find families.” Tears spring to your eyes, both at his admiration and the fact it's been a long day, and you so needed to hear that. Because you were a hero in your own way, you were a savior to the children you worked with. Guilt then followed behind the thought. Would I be a bad person if I didn’t go back to work then? If I wasn’t there to help them? You shake the thought from your head and look back to your son. 

“Thanks, honey,” you subtly wipe under your eyes and shove another spoonful of curry back into your mouth. “I’d be more happy than happy to come, but you might also want to ask your dad too so he doesn’t feel left out.” Kazuto nods his head ecstatically at your words before shoveling more food into his mouth. You muffle a quiet laugh at his antics. Yeah, he’s your son when it comes to his love for food.

“I also decided about my party this year for my birthday,” Kazuto says again. 

“Your birthday?” You ask, pretending to think. “No, it can’t be coming up. I clearly remember your birthday being last year!” The teasing tone goes over his head as he scrunches his face up in a pout. 

“It is! I’m four!” He argues, and you don’t hold in the smile 

“Are you sure?” You feign ignorance like you didn’t remember your own son's birthday. Finally catching on, he groans at you. 

“Muuuuummmmm...”

“Your birthday…” you begin and Kazuto beams in response before continuing on.

“Can it just be us at my party? With Aunt Mina and my uncles and cousins? I know they all might be really busy being heroes…” He asks and you're once again surprised by your son. Not one for flashy things, and not wanting to spend his outside of school time with his friends, but his family. It's adorable. His temperament at times like these takes after you so much, even though he’s the carbon copy of his father. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” you say winking, knowing that your friends would do anything for your little family. Including taking an afternoon off to spend it with their godson. Noticing he's done, you move to get his plate and gesture towards the stairs. “Why don’t you go clean up and check on your dad.” Kazuto nods and quickly scampers out of the room.

You clean up the kitchen quickly, putting leftovers in a dish and placing them in the fridge for Katsuki to raid later on. Leaving on the kitchen light, you walk out of the kitchen and past the living room to go up the stairs when the TV catches your eye. In the lounge, your eyes fall to the couch which holds your now sleeping husband and your one-month-old daughter, completely comatose on his chest. Old reruns of Friends plays quietly in the background, a show you watched compulsively whilst you were pregnant with Koharu. Squatting down next to Katsuki, you can’t help but smile at the peaceful expression on their faces. 

As if sensing your presence, Katsuki cracks open an eye, instinctively finding you. “Finally got her down I see,” you whisper, thumbing the blonde hair on the baby's head.

“Our kids fucking love me. I’ve got the magic touch.” He says and you grin.

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Mr. Tough-Explosion-man to the world, but here at home - with a sleeping baby on his chest. You’re really soft, Suki.” He now smiles at you but doesn’t make a move to reject the statement.

“Where’s Kazuto?” Katsuki asks, looking over the back of the couch to the clock on the back wall of the lounge. 

“He’s gone to wash up.” You reply, leaning forwards and picking up Koharu with very practiced and perfected stealth to take her to her crib. “He should be done by now. I’m going to put this one in her crib.” You finish, walking up the stairs and into the nursery. With baby blue painted walls and clouds that you had painstakingly illustrated whilst you had left all the assembly of things to Katsuki because the man practically growled at you when you moved to lift something. Turning on the baby monitor in Koharu’s room before quietly slipping through the door, you trudge down the hall towards the master bedroom. On your way past it, you innocently pole your head into Kazuto’s room, seeing Katsuki leaning against the wall next to Kazuto’s bed as they speak quietly amongst themselves. Every time you come into your son's room it makes you smile. The walls are covered in pro hero posters of people like his uncles and his dad. There’s even one of Deku that Katsuki doesn’t like, but once again, puts up with for his son. Kazuto’s eyes lock onto you whilst still talking to his father and you blow him a kiss before leaving the boys to their chatter. 

Closing the door behind you, you make quick work of jumping in the shower and washing your hair for - when was the last time you had washed your hair? To be honest you weren’t sure. 

With that thought, you finish your bathroom routine and get into your comfiest pajamas which consists of one of your husband's t-shirts, a favorite of yours since high-school. Beelining to the bed, you crawl under the covers and let the exhaustion of today leak out of your bones. Tomorrow was a new day, you remind yourself. It was something you found yourself frequently saying when you were overwhelmed and today, you had reached your limit. You only just close your eyes when your door opens, and Katsuki’s walks in. He’s quick and quiet like usual, but as soon as he gets in the bed, he pulls you towards him. He holds you tightly, your back against his chest - which you know won’t last for long because it's summer and the man is like a walking furnace. Placing a kiss against the back of your head, you finally decide to voice the thought that had been plaguing you all day.

“I’m thinking of taking more time off work.” Katsuki’s arms solidify around you. “Like, longer than my maternity leave.” You finish. To be honest, you weren't sure how best to broach the topic with him, even though you’ve been married for over four years now and together twice that long. You’re a very independent person and always liked having your own source of income. And relying on someone for that - there’s nothing wrong with it, you just weren’t sure that was for you. But lately, something changed. Maybe it was adding another baby to the mix, but you’ve been wanting to spend more time focusing on your kids and your husband, rather than work. 

The agency would be fine without me. Katsuki’s arms tighten around you as he helps you roll over towards him. His eyes are filled with pride and love as you look up at him. Placing his hand on your cheek, Katsuki gives you a soft smile.

“You know I’ll support everything you do. The other people at your agency will struggle for a while without you because you basically carry everyone in that fucking place.” Katsuki says. “But they will be okay. You’re the love of my life y/n, a great wife and the best mother to our little gremlins.” The buildup of stress from today bubbles over and you can’t hold in the tears. As fast as they fall, Katsuki brushes them away before placing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“I love you so much sweetheart,” A broken sob breaks out of your mouth before you can stop it which has Katsuki kissing your forehead and grasping you tighter, tucking your head under his chin. 

“Shitty woman, let me fucking help you.” He whispers and you nod against his chest. 

“I love you, Suki.” Your voice is smothered against his skin, so you place a tender kiss to the bare skin of his chest in response. Running his hands down your spine and his warm body pressed to yours, you slowly drift to sleep. Your husband really is a softy at heart. 

©️ 2021 all rights reserved to atsukashii, do not change, edit, translate, or repost any works on any platform.

[billys-mullet]

Oh, The Darkness Got A Hold On Me ; 3

Don't come back.

And Steve doesn't, for at least a week. Doesn't plan on it, either, until he comes home Monday evening from a double to an empty house and a new voicemail on the machine. There's the crackle of movement on the other ends before a familiar voice speaks: 

"Hi honey, it's Joyce. Sorry to bother you again, I know you're probably at work. I was wondering if you'd like to come over tomorrow? It's short notice, I know, but Jonathan managed to get the evening off and Will has been talking about seeing you again, El too. And Billy..." 

There's a breathy exhale, a strange mixture between tight and relieved, 

"Billy seems to be doing a bit better, thank you for that. The drive is a lot, I know, and I'm sorry. I hate to ask." 

She pauses for a long time. 

"You can always say no. I don't want you to feel like you're obligated. This isn't something you have to do. They're all excited to see you again, myself included. I have a nice dinner planned with cake for dessert so plan to stay a bit longer this time around. Call me back and let me know, alright? I'll talk to you later, hun. Bye." 

There's a long beep before the machine goes quiet, filling the house with that oppressive stillness that he hates. Steve finds himself standing there for a long time, staring down at the device. 

Should he...? 

It beats staying here all evening, another marathon of mindless television and delivery pizza. There will be friendly faces and lively conversation — even if Billy doesn't want him around. Steve tilts his head back and forth as he mulls it over for a long while. 

And then he's picking up the phone to return Joyce's call. 

- 

"Steve!" A joyful chorus greets his arrival. Jonathan's arm around his shoulder is casual and warm, Will at his heels while El watches from the couch. Joyce calls out a greeting from the kitchen. Something smells great. 

It might be his imagination, but everybody seems less on edge this time around. Smiles come more naturally and hold more warmth, the air is less oppressive than it was during his first visit. It feels like a home. 

There's no sign of Billy, though. Not that he's particularly looking, simply an observation. 

Their cheerful conversation carries on for a good while. Steve eventually steps in to help Joyce where he can, though he stays away from any actual cooking. Better to leave that to the professional. As promised, there's a cake in the oven that is almost as alluring as the bubbling pasta sauce. Steve can't remember the last time he had a good, home cooked meal. 

Things are pleasant — up until the table is set. Because that's when Billy decides to round the corner. 

Steve can't swallow back the ugly noise of confusion that rips from his throat when they lock eyes. 

It's instantaneous, too, the way brown meets blue — heavy, dull blue rimmed with reds and purples, so unlike the fiery gaze Steve was accustomed to seeing. Billy's hair has been cropped short, a little uneven and messy, like he hasn't bothered to brush it in a few days. The sweater across his front is way too big, and the shorts he wears are a little too high on his thighs. He's pale... A horrible, ugly pale that comes with a lack of care for oneself. He looks sick. He looks wrong. 

Steve didn't think it was this bad. 

"Billy, hi." Joyce's voice is somewhat surprised, but still soft. She's holding the pot of sauce in her oven-mitt clad hands, standing in the middle of the dining area like she's been stunned stupid. Steve catches the way Jonathan tenses a bit, and how Will ducks his head and seems to think the tablecloth is the most interesting thing he's seen all week. Only El maintains her composure, staring  at Billy without an ounce of hesitation. 

Billy's haunting gaze shifts from person to person, a slow and deliberate drag, until it stops at Steve. And stays there. 

"I thought I told you not to come back." Still raspy and soft. 

"You did." 

"Then why are you here?" 

"Billy..." Joyce begins quietly. 

"Because Mrs. Byers invited me over. And she said there would be cake," is said like it's obvious, "Am I not allowed to be here? Is there a problem?" 

Steve doesn't know where this confidence comes from, but it's there. Billy scares him – he has since that night at the Byers' home – but the desire to defend those around him greatly outweighs his fear.  

Billy's glare darkens further. He shoves his hands into the pockets of the hoodie and his head snaps to the side. Steve swallows back another one of those sounds when he sees the nasty scar that spans the side of Billy's skull. 

What did they do to him? 

"I'm eating in the living room." 

"There's enough room at the table." Joyce quickly sets down the pot. "Here, I'll pull up a cha—" 

"No." Sharp. Angry. Billy winces and then shakes his head, seeming to backpedal a bit. He clears his throat. "No... The living room is okay. It's too crowded at the table." 

"Okay... okay, hun, that's fine. Let me make you a bowl." 

"I'll do it." 

Billy is deliberate in the way he steps around Steve. He refuses to make any more eye contact. Steve, however, can't seem to keep himself from staring. At Billy. At the tiny portion he puts in his bowl. In the way he pointedly ignores the shifty gazes that keep landing on him. 

Like a scared animal about to attack. That feeling from last time is back. They're all on edge around him, and rightfully so. That temper of his had been explosive. Everybody surrounding the table was just waiting for the spark to reach the end of the fuse. 

It never comes. 

Instead, Billy ducks himself into the hood of his jacket, clutching his bowl tightly as he stumbles away from the company surrounding the table. Steve watches him choose the spot on the couch the furthest away from everybody else, knees pulled up against his chest. He looks small. 

Was this really the guy who beat his face to a pulp, the one that gallantly strode around the Hawkins Pool without a care in the world? This is nothing more than a former shell of Billy Hargrove; this is somebody the world chewed up and spit back out, only to scoop them up again and pop them back in their mouth. 

Guess death by inter-dimensional monster tended to do that to you. 

The hairs on the back of Steve's neck raise, eyes shooting down to his plated dinner. Guilt rests heavy in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn't think things like that. Billy did a lot for them, for all of them. He should give the guy some more credit. 

"We started learning about poetry today," Will announces shyly. It's enough to break the tension around the table. Jonathan turns in his seat to begin asking questions, and everything settles back into the easy conversation from before. 

Steve still can't help but peek behind him every once and a while. 

--- 

 "Oh, and don't forget to take this with you —" 

"I'm fine, Mrs. Byers." Steve laughs, already juggling leftovers in one hand and a few odds and ends in the other. Joyce is like any other mother: trying to send him off with more than he can carry. 

They're on their way back towards his parked car. The night is cool, a little bit sticky. The beginnings of Spring are starting to bud up and hopefully the warmth of the changing season comes as well. 

"Are you going to be alright getting home? You can always stay the night if you need to." Joyce offers everything has been packed away in his car. Steve's hand taps gently across the vehicle's top. 

"I should be okay." 

She nods before giving him a gentle, sweet smile, "Thank you for coming again. I appreciate it. That's the first time he's come out of his room all week." 

Steve can't help the surprised – and confused – expression that covers his face, "He... asked me not to come back the last time I was over." 

"What? That’s what that entire ordeal in the kitchen was about." 

"Yeah. I'm not really sure why." 

Joyce frowns. "I'll talk to him." 

"Don't. It's cool. We aren't really... friends. Maybe I was too much the last time I was here." Steve shrugs. It's really not a big deal; he wasn't expecting a warm greeting from Hargrove. What he's gotten so far is a surprise. Joyce doesn't seem to want to settle for that. Her mouth is pulled down in a frown while she pulls the sleeves of the sweater over her hands. He hopes he hasn't gotten Billy in trouble. 

"I'll call you later. Please let me know when you get home." 

"Yeah, of course. See you later, Mrs. Byers." 

Steve pulls out of the driveway, giving her a wave that he isn't sure she sees. He gives the house one last look, and he swears he sees Billy's tired face watching him leave from the living room window. 

Or maybe that's wishful thinking.

[lambourngb]

Not sure if you are taking prompt buts if you are Post S2 prompt: I just want to see Alex quietly singing/humming The Song to Michael. Maybe Michael's hurt and in pain or they've both had a really emotional event happen and are totally drained from crying. I want that song to be a source of comfort. My partner isn't an amazing singer but I still find it really comforting when he sings to me and I like to think Michael and Alex eventually get to that point too.

This was a very romantic prompt nonnie! I’m afraid I was in a hurt/comfort state when I started this. Warnings: Confinement, experimentation, angst, mention of Forlex, mention of the Miluca breakup, but all is not lost.

“like a halo from a gun”

Time stopped having meaning to Michael sometime after the third week of confinement.

Guards entered his cell at random intervals, always wearing black masks and dull, badge-less armor that kept them anonymous. The first injection of the serum Helena had once used on him let him know he was probably in the hands of the real Deep Sky operation. Fighting with his fists, pulling every dirty trick he learned from his brief stint in juvie at 15, rewarded him with a broken wrist and a battered torso.

He was gifted with a soft white bandage to hold the splits of his bone together, he supposed they were too nervous to allow him with the hard plaster of a cast. The pain left him weak, tired, and finally docile as vial after vial of blood was taken from him.

At least it was just blood, and not anything more taxing, like tissue or an organ. If he survives this cell, he would have to thank Max for blowing up Liz’s lab. There was no way he could be sanguine over seeing Noah’s liver in a jar after this experience.

Worry about that later, he reminded himself. If there was a later.

No one was coming for him because no one knew he was missing. His plan had been simple, shared with Isobel, Max and Sanders. A month long road trip to get some space from Roswell, and Max’s moping over Liz’s departure seemed like a good idea at the time, and if he by chance he ended up in California to plead his brother’s case, well, seeing the Pacific Ocean felt like a thing to do.

The open road with his window down had beckoned. He had let the wounded feelings from Maria blow away with his mixed emotions about Forrest, stitching up the raw places inside in ways he knew alcohol couldn’t and acetone shouldn’t. As he drove, he had found himself humming Alex’s song, reminding himself of the promise of the future.

It was not their time now, but it would be one day had been his mantra.

Three hours later, feeling lighter and more hopeful, he had pulled over to assist a stranded motorist. A mother, holding a baby at her hip, had seemed harmless enough until she hit him with a needle pulled from an innocuous diaper bag.

His powers gone, he had made it back to his truck just in time for three black Jeeps with weapons mounted to appear from the surrounding brush to pin him down. Surrender or death, he picked surrender. He picked hope.

Now, his wrist screaming with a swollen hot feeling, he considered the idea that he might have picked the wrong option. Michael shut his eyes, letting the siren song of fatigue, despair and pain drag him down to sleep. He found a brighter, happier place to be, deep inside his mind. Perhaps it was his body shutting down, or perhaps he had found the place his mother described to Tripp. The ultimate sanctuary from pain and fear.

There was a kinship believing that his mother found the same haven, where maybe her Manes man had waited for her the way Alex waited for him in the dream. The only dark he could find there, were Alex’s warm eyes, and the only touch he could feel was Alex’s broad hands. After three bags of blood drawn, he could sometimes hear Alex’s voice, whispering soft promises to him.

Together we could quiet all the noises

Drown out the voices

Play our own song

He could still hear Alex’s voice, as he slowly surfaced from his mind. It didn’t make any sense to his sluggish thoughts. The song kept up, and the next thing he was aware of was the slow, carding of his hair and the warmth under his face of his pillow. Except he didn’t have a pillow.

Blinking he met the bruised, worried face of Alex. He would never hallucinate Alex with a mark on his face, let alone darkening blemish on his cheekbone and worrying cut that bled sluggishly from his forehead creeping upward to his hairline. “You’re actually here?”

“Yes,” Alex confirmed.

“Why? How-”

“The ‘how’ is Maria had a vision not long after you left, and once she figured out that you were in trouble, she had me try to track your phone.”  Alex frowned faintly, his touch never wavering as he smoothed back the matted and sweat-crusted locks of hair. “We found your truck at used car dealer a few miles from the last cell tower you pinged. It was all hands on deck to find you after that.”

Very little of his words registered on Michael. He was too caught up in the  cringing horror at their close proximity, as his mind moved on from the fantasy of seeing Alex to the reality of his current condition. He wanted to pull away because god only knew how badly he smelled at the moment. Bathing consisted of a blast of a hose, bracingly cold and relying on the force of the water to wash away the dirt and fear-sweats he routinely suffered. All of that said, he never wanted to leave the place on Alex’s lap. Being treated like a person after 3 weeks of nothing but sterile touch undid all his work at detachment.

Unaware of the train of Michael’s thoughts, Alex continued in a soft voice, “I  should have looked sooner, but- anyway, I didn’t even know you guys had broken up. Actually, I didn’t even know you left town until Maria came to my house looking for you.”

The blood loss was making him stupid as he tried to figure out what made Maria think he was at Alex’s. It was still too painful to even think about how he had failed with her, did she really think he would seek out the other person who knew how inadequate he was when it came to a relationship? As free and relaxed as Alex was at the Wild Pony, with Jesse in the ground, why would he want to ruin that?

Michael was well aware of how stuck he was emotionally, in all the ways that seemed to matter to people, and Alex had evolved past him. Tired, he squeezed his dry eyes shut tightly. “Why your house?”

“Her visions of you all involved me. In various positions she said?”

It took a second to comprehend Alex’s admission before Michael briefly wished that his captors would return. Getting drained to light-headed weakness was preferable to this. The mental retreat he had built where he inserted Alex into his delusion of a happily ever after had more windows instead of privacy doors. He had been broadcasting to his ex-girlfriend. Fuck his life. 

“Oh god- I’m so sorry, I just, I was trying to-.”

“Hey, hey,” Alex cut him off, his eyes kind as always even as Michael struggled to keep from crying. It was definitely time to wish for more needles, for more medical experimentation. That felt kinder than this discussion for Michael.

Sensing that hovering stab of humiliation, Alex made his own confession in return in the quiet, “After my leg, when rehab sucked. I pictured things being different too, or I thought about that summer with you. You don’t have to apologize, not to me.”

“Still, if she had put on the damn bracelet-” Mortified and weak, Micheal turned his face toward Alex’s hip, hiding it from view.

“Well the fact she wasn’t wearing the bracelet worked out in your favor. It’s how we realized you were in trouble in the first place, since she came over to my house to yell at you to stop projecting at her. She didn’t think it was deliberate either. She thought we had gotten back together, and because of your past with her, that you had left some link open by accident.”

“Bet Forrest loved that, my ex-girlfriend yelling at you about your- about me.”

Alex’s hand paused, either at the barb or the course correction Michael made in describing himself. For all the use of past tense feelings, the closest he’d heard Alex come to naming him was ‘first love’.

“Sorry,” Michael whispered, as a wave of shame swelled. “Sorry for that, and sorry that you’re here with me now. You shouldn’t have come but I know why you did. Guess that means we’re even now.”

“Of course I came, and it had nothing to do with being even.”

“Right, you don’t want to keep score anymore.”

Alex pinked a little at the reference to his song, before nodding seriously, “Yes, remember how the rest of the song goes?” He let his eyes track to the corner of the cell where the video surveillance was mounted plainly without subterfuge. “Would you meet me in the middle,” he sang sweetly, nodding toward the left wall of the cell, “Could we both stop keeping score? There’s a battle I must fight along, it’s you I’m fighting for. If I call on my battalion, break down the walls stone by stone, tear down the defenses, I could build our heart a home?”

Goddamnit. That crazy, brave, genius bastard really did have a plan. Michael was ready to both kiss and strangle Alex after that. 

The building shook briefly, rocked by a far off explosion. Michael summoned the reserves of his energy, and moved with Alex’s body as they rolled toward the wall. Then all hell started to break loose. The battalion mentioned was not just metaphorically tearing down walls. In the midst of deafening blasts and new alarms wailing in response, he found Alex’s ear. “I want to come home to you, that’s all I want, just when I’m ready.”

“That’s all I want too.”

[mushroommushy]

Enter Bunnix

Princess Fragrance

Hero’s going, “Oh shit.” The episode

- Bunnix is included in the short news clip, with the subtitles speaking about the new hero’s fame rising

- Tikki was sick, and so was Fluff

- This is linked to how rabbits can also get very easily sick from cold weather and being wet

- Marinette brought this up to Alix with concern

- Tikki told both of the girls about a healer

- Only Alix knows said healer is the guardian of miraculous

- They decided on taking the kwami’s after school, and made up an excuse of Marinette getting her foot stuck in a grate and Alix was helping her get it out to Mrs. Mendeleiev

- This is only the beginning of Alix joining Mari and Adrien in the constantly late to class club

- As well as the, “Stayed up all night fighting akumas and thats why I look dead tired but I can’t say that so I say I was studying” club

- Alix sat down next to Mylene who gave her some of the notes

Alix: God bless your soul I would be screwed

- Rose was gushing over Ali and loudly squealed when he stepped out of the car with plushies of the hero’s he made himself

- Both Mari and Alix are pretending not to hear high pitched squeaks as their kwami’s sneeze when Mylene and Alya question it

- Alix, who has experience around certain chemicals (Ones generally used for cleaning artifacts and other things) knows it’s probably not the best idea to spray perfume in a science class room

- Especially when she noticed the chemicals behind Rose that would explode if they came in contact with the perfume

- Alix did feel a little bad for Rose when she got detention, but she had brought it onto herself

- But she was annoyed at being quizzed on Lab Safety for the fifth time that year

- Alix did take a tissue and put it in her bag for Fluff to use as a blanket

- Alix had to go home after school since she was gonna be there at the party for Prince Ali, her family was invited as guests

- But she did see Tikki get flung and panicked immediately

- She was thankfully able to get Tikki back from Chloe with saying it was a missing item she had found at the Louvre

- But she wasn’t able to give it back to Marinette so she just put Tikki down with Fluff.

- Rose asked Chloe if she could deliver the letter, and she said yes much to her surprise and even offered to let her come to the hotel with her to meet him

- Chloe is trying to be nice but she also had Alix (And Sabrina) breathing on her neck if she fucked it up

- When Rose, Sabrina and Chloe got to the hotel, the guard wouldn’t let Rose in since she wasn’t wealthy enough in his eyes

- Rose ran off crying, and Sabrina went after her

- Chloe was not happy with the guard and threatened to fire him if he did that again

- Alix overheard that as she got there with her brother and father and questioned it until she heard what he did to Rose and agreed with her

- Rose gets Akumatized into Princess Fragrance

- Sabrina was the first to be put under her control

- Marinette did not try to get into the hotel since Tikki was safe with Alix

- Alix had texted her that her dad hadn’t let her go to the healer because of the Prince’s arrival

- Nathaniel had sat the party out since he was sick and at home (Lucky him)

- Adrien was there and he felt so much sympathy for Ali about the busy schedule thing because he deals with the same shit

- Chloe got to meet Prince Ali, and gave him the letter

Chloe: The person who wrote it would’ve given it to you herself, but the guard turned her away. I’m sorry.

Chloe, turns and looks at Princess Fragrance: ..Well shit. Never mind she is here. Did you hear that you can’t be sad in this city without being turned into a villain.

Ali: P-Pardon???

- The guard got hit with the perfume that makes people smell bad

- Cue Alix panicking at Princess Fragrance since Fluff and Tikki are still sick

- Adrien was told about Fluff being sick and then his heart dropped as Alix told him she had Tikki who was also sick

- He was gonna have to fight on his own while Alix booked it to Fu’s

- Alix texted Mari to wait outside the hotel for her to come with Tikki

- Adrien slinked off to transform and distracted Princess Fragrance as Ali, Chloe, Ali’s assistant and Alix slid down the pole to outside

- Alix made the excuse of going back to her house to hide and she went to Master Fu’s

- Ali, Chloe, Chat and the assistant were hit by Princess Fragrance

- Hawkmoth was beginning to think he won but was still cautious, as Ladybug and Bunnix had not appeared yet

- Chloe also may or may not have texted Nathaniel before getting hit that he was one lucky bastard for getting sick at the time he did

- Alix was very confused about how Fu actually healed Fluff and Tikki and suspected that he gave them some sort of potion when she wasn’t looking

- But both were ok and she ran back to the hotel and gave Tikki back to Marinette, who was delighted that she was ok

- *Insert Magical Girl transformation sequence*

- Alix just then realized that Juleka was probably pretty bummed out

Bunnix: ..Hey what if we like..tried to set up Juleka and Rose

Ladybug: You are a genius and I love you

Bunnix, jokingly: You flatter me

- Bunnix and Ladybug showed up to stop the ‘wedding’ between Ali and Princess Fragrance

Bunnix: YOU’RE HONOR, I OBJECT.

- Princess Fragrance immediately started firing at her and Bunnix jumped into the seine

- Ladybug had a clothespin over her nose so she couldn’t smell the perfume

- Princess Fragrance escaped with the Prince and started making her perfume cloud take over the city

- Ladybug recalled about Bunnix saying the perfume was explosive and told Bunnix to get to the fireworks boat

- She was very happy about what was basically a sword fight on a boat

- Bunnix was able to get ahold of Chat’s hand and make him hit the power box for the fireworks

- She tossed him into the seine, cackling since he had once done it to her when they were little

Bunnix: REVENGE MOTHER FUCKER

- Bunnix quickly got to Princess Fragrance, wincing at the noise of the fireworks with her ears flat against her head

- They were much louder to her, as her hearing was heightened by a lot with the rabbits power

- This was something Hawkmoth took note of, as he could use her weakness of loud noise against her (She would not do well against an Akuma that causes explosions, and this will be an issue for her in Guitar Villain)

- Ladybug summoned her lucky charm and stuck the balloon onto the perfume head, before breaking it

- Princess Fragrance deakumatized back into Rose

- Ladybug tossed her cure, freeing everyone from her control

- Prince Ali accepted Rose’s apology and allowed her to join him with the charity

[btsinwonderland]

Fire & Ashes - Ch 2

A Cable Story!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

[Length - 4-5 chapters - on going]

[General advisories - violence, swearing, sexual content. Rated - Explicit]

[Chapter advisories - violence, fighting, and blood]

My notes at the end of the chapter.

-----------------------------------------

We arrived in the outskirts of Anaheim, where the dirt of the city met the barren dust of the desert. The morning sun was high in the sky and the temperature was beyond boiling. The air tasted of metal from the various manufacturing facilities around us and the thick stench of burning coal.

Colossus and Negasonic brought the cars over to the small warehouse where we hid the jet and ushered us to meet them for a review.

“Do we understand plan? We must keep the adamantium safe, away from the bad men. Easy squeeze,” said Colossus in his heavy Russian accent.

“Holy God Colossus, how many times do I have to tell you, it’s easy peasy lemon squeezy, we’re never going to get ready for Hairspray at this rate,” said Wade. He sat atop the hood of one of the jeeps with his legs swinging off the side humming ‘Good Morning Baltimore’.

“Do we know how many of them will come?” I asked. I heard a clank of metal and turned to see Cable enter the open area, his dark cape was rippling behind him as he walked. His eyes met everyone’s but mine.

Colossus replied, “Professor only say where, not how many. We will defend as much as we can, and if it goes bad, then we assume code red.”

“What’s a code red?” I said.

“It’s what happens when the strap on is too big, or is that a code brown? I always mix them up.” Wade looked up, the brows of his mask knitted in thought.

“Code red is this,” said Colossus as he put down a disc shaped object on the table in front of him. It was just larger than a frisbee. “This is bomb that is made with mutant acid and shrapnel, it will cause many damages and corrode the adamantium. We do not want to use this.” He put the disk into a bag where there were about a dozen more of the acid bombs and clasped it shut. “Now, we will divide into three teams, one for above, and two for the ground. Negasonic, Yukio, and I will be on the ground, Wade and Domino you take the roof, Cable and Nina you take the other side of the building on the ground.”

[ Interesting team up...almost too convenient wouldn’t ya say?

Nah I’m just kidding, hope you guys fuck! Cheers!

-DP ]

I heard Cable give a grunting sigh as he dismantled a part of his gun and reassembled it. The clang of the metal once it magnetically locked on his back echoed through the warehouse.

We took the jeeps to the metalworks factory and parked them beside a vestigial building, what once might have been a shed or garage. The factory looked old and decrepit, pillars of white and grey smoke rose from the cooling towers and the air was thick with burning metal.

Cable and I walked to the east side of the factory, we had several large concrete blocks for cover as we made our approach.

“Don’t do anything stupid, remember I can’t take care of you and fight,” Cable said under his breath. It came out raspy and disapproving.

“I don��t need you to take care of me,” I said.

He turned to look at me for a moment and his gaze bore into me, the intensity was astounding and I was unprepared.

We heard the ground shake suddenly as a giant explosion went off on the south side of the building. Chunks of concrete fell from the sky and before I could create a wooden shield, Cable grabbed me by the waist and pulled me close to him as he enabled his forcefield above us. I felt his breath on the back of my neck, not quite panting not quite even, and his thick arm around me. Before I could turn my head he rose up and ran toward the explosion. I followed closely behind him.

There were four of them, they had black suits on with silver neck braces. Colossus was fighting a large one that produced spires from his body while Negasonic and Yukio were fighting two with elemental powers, fire and air. They generated a flaming tornado together. The fourth one saw Cable and I approaching, he raised his hands in a gun shape and clicked, the air around us exploded as Cable shielded me once again as I fell against him. His hard body blocking my impact with the ground. He glared at me and pushed me aside, running towards the explosive man.

I heard loud noises coming from the roof but had no time to check what was going on up there when Cable was knocked over by another surprise explosion. I summoned my power and shot several sharp branches at the man, he dodged them all save for one that knicked him across the face. He looked at me with scornful hatred in his eyes and snapped his fingers, I was prepared this time and generated a wooden shield just as his explosion shattered it around me. Cable yelled out my name and shot at the man as I was knocked over from the force.

The man fell over, dead I presumed. I then saw a number of bodies falling from the roof, some heads and limbs came through separately and I assumed that Wade and Domino were doing alright.

It was then a van screeched to a stop in front of us and a group of armed men emerged, pointing their guns and shooting. Cable fired one of his special guns which he dialed up and shot at the van. It exploded and pieces of metal and tire shot out in all directions. I put up my shields and blocked a serrated edge of the van from impaling Cable. He looked at me briefly with his eyebrows partially raised.

We then took to those left. They wore no masks and I actually recognized a few of them as the guys that herded me and the girls into our cages. My blood boiled at the sight of them so I summoned all my powers and threw wooden stakes which emerged from my arms at great speed. I screamed as I ran for the blonde blue haired man. He had a coldness to his eyes that I remembered. He was the one that was overly touchy. The one that liked to beat his so-called favourite girls.

He saw me coming with no recognition, I was just another mutant. Just another mutant who drove a ten inch long stake up his jaw. The bloodied tip popped out from his head and his eyes sagged.

I panted as the noise around me settled. There was an unrest within me that wanted to keep stabbing. To mangle his body and tear him to shreds for all the girls I would no longer be able to talk to, for our pain and for our suffering.

A hand gripped my shoulder and I screamed, pouncing onto the body and growling like a feral animal. I had Cable pinned between my legs and a pointed wooden stake at his jaw. He looked at me with an intensity I had grown to be familiar with, but which never ceased to unsettle me.

“You gonna kill me?” He said, his voice husky.

I put a hand on his chest and lingered for just a second longer than I should have. Then I jumped up and muttered an apology. “Don’t sneak up on me in a fight.”

“Duly noted.”

NTW and Yukio took care of the elemental mutants who were now laying either dead or unconscious on the ground. There was blood splatter here and there which was mostly due to the two on the roof, a head landed just beside Cable and blood sprayed on his pants. He looked up at the roof and said in a low voice, “I’m gonna kill that oversized dildo.”

The one that shot spires ran to an abandoned Jeep and threw out his dead colleague. He put the car into drive and escaped. Colossus ran after him but stopped once the car was too far away.

“That man will come back. We must take the adamantium and leave now,” Colossus said, he had a finger to his earpiece. Then he grimaced and said, “no Wade we are not going to Disneyland. They do not have condoms in the bathrooms. No. Wade!”

There was a shot fired, which pinged off of Colossus and made Cable grunt. He got down on a knee, and managed to whip out his gun and shoot the one attacker who had gained consciousness. The man slumped over. I ran to Cable and asked him if he was okay. He kept trying to shrug me off but clearly needed help standing.

“Will you stop being such a dick and let me help you!”

Cable stopped moving and allowed me to help him up. He tried his best to keep his weight off of me but I guided him back to our vehicles. Colossus went into the building to retrieve the adamantium while NTW and Yukio got in the drivers side of the van. I opened the back doors and helped Cable into the van, he tried not to make a sound but I heard the tiniest grunt escape his lips as he put pressure on the leg he was shot in. The wound must have been in his thigh. I sat down beside him and looked for a towel, anything.

There was a small first aid kit beside Cable, who had his eyes closed and head tilted back. I leaned over him to grab the kit, my breasts brushed against his stomach and I thought I heard him groan.

“What are you doing?” He said. When I sat back I saw that his eyes were on me with a strained expression.

I flashed the first aid kit and took out some towels to stop the bleeding.

“The bullet’s still in there,” he said.

“We’re gonna have to take care of that back at the house,” I told him as I gently compressed the wound.

“Not we, I’ll take care of it,” he said, glaring at me.

“No way, you can barely reach it, it’s the back of your thigh. Unless you enjoy scratching around for a bullet wound while staring at a mirror, you’re gonna let me do this.”

The back of the van depressed a little and the rest of the crew came in.

“I’d listen to her Cable, it’s only fair she finger you first,” Wade sat across from us in the back with Domino who winked at me.

Cable grimaced at Wade while I concealed a small laugh.

Colossus brought a heavy metal crate and got into the back. “This is not over, they will want this.”

---------------------------------

My personal note:

First of all. Yes. This is an update after three fucking years. I AM SO SORRY. Life got in the way and much more complicated.

I made this Tumblr so long ago. I love fan fictions and not finishing this one haunted me all these years. I left so many people unsatisfied and who knows if they'll all see this again. But I'm trying to make up for my sins by completing this fanfic. I'll be posting chapter updates this week and don't worry the next chapter is already written, I'm just going to post it tomorrow.

To anyone who came back from that first chapter I wrote three fucking years ago. Wow. You are amazing. And I ask you for forgiveness. I hope that I this will make up for ghosting.

Love ya xoxo.

[susoftjockau]

The Party - Part Four

He didn't know how long he stood outside the bathroom. The party was still loud and raucous: a dude to his left bombarding the air with confetti poppers, another singing along nearby to a far-off and crowded karaoke machine, whooping over a makeshift pinata someone made, the clink of glasses, a blur of conversations in a single solidarity. He was used to the calamity and the nature of parties but he couldn't help but notice it more now that Carly left him to think — to think about Connie and her reasons to fear the very thing he reveled in.

Without someone to talk to it felt lonely, disconnected from the main event like wires snipped by some pliers, but having a panic attack over it was still hard to visualize for him. How could he break down over something so hyper? He loved the sound, the happiness, the explosive laughter, and interaction; he couldn’t imagine himself trying to breathe through the blare of thoughts that rammed through his head like sirens.

Maybe that's one way they differed, how their enthusiasm towards certain things were miles apart but similar? Maybe he was starting to get it? Maybe he wasn't.

His head popped up when someone passed him by. It was Connie—frazzled in her button-up, eyes peering into the dark—not taking notice of his presence. "Hey, Connie."

She jumped, spinning around to face him. Now that Carly had mentioned it, she looked tense, like her energy was getting sapped with each moment she's here.

"Steven, I'm just going back to the party!" Her voice was high-strung too. On edge. How did he not notice this before? "What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you." He frowned, rubbing his neck. There was guilt for not knowing, but he couldn't think of that now; he needed to get her out of the party—she was still tense even away from the main groups coursing at the main tree.

"Okay." She bit her lip. "Let's go."

"Actually," he started, walking toward her. "I was thinking if we could get out of here."

"But didn't you want me to meet the cheerleaders?" She sounded undecided, like her confidence was panicking at the thought as they spoke.

"We could do that later," he said, cocking his head to the left—the direction of the exits somewhere between the yelling and the drunken hollering. He extended his hand, inviting her with a smile. He hoped it was enough. She needed an out. "Let's just get out and go somewhere else for once."

Hesitation was written all over her face. He wondered if she would accept, and if she did would he still pester her like he always did when it came to people and what they wanted? Of course, he would, but there's the question of how far he'd like to push, or whether he'd cross a line he never saw before—the latter scaring him more and more. He didn't want to hurt her, he just wanted to help and understand.

He didn't hear her, but the exhale was apparent on her lips. "Okay."

Steven grinned at the pressure around his hand, starting off his trek to the park's many sidewalks, avoiding the groups as they maneuvered along.

The blasting of indie and techno was thrilling. Chaotic. Lively. The diverse cast of the campus, plugged into an environment of freedom, brought the best of two worlds, allowing many to relax and have fun without the worry of their parents and colleagues, thrilling themselves away from their assignments and professors. Yet even with his thrall for the festivity, a part of his brain doused him when he remembered the warmth clasped around his hand: she doesn’t want to be here, she’s uncomfortable, they need to find a quiet place—away from here, away from all these lights, these people.

The night shone above them. When they walked past—Steven giving apologies to bumped attendees while keeping his grip tight on her, distancing themselves from the event—the transition was clear. Barreling groups of partying young adults—stinging the air with alcohol and laughter—turned into spare persons; music trickled to muffled background, his hums towards the indie music now louder than the original source as it tunneled to nothing; where they were going, he had no clue, but they weren’t in an alcove of grass with littered confetti anymore, instead, a car would pass by once or twice in a quiet drive, streets connecting the park sections more pronounced now that they're on the sidewalks away from the bustle.

It was hushed too. Peaceful. Pleasant. That was good. That was very good because then Connie should be calm. Right?

He looked back. Even under the pretense of dying lamplight, he could still see that she was frazzled.

He’ll have to take her to a place that’s more peaceful than just an intersection.

“Can you hold on for a few minutes?” She looked up at him at his request. “I want to show ya’ somewhere if that’s all right with you?”

“I’m,” her words died down. Steven frowned, watching her bring herself back. “I’d love to.”

The trek there wasn’t long. The park had street signs scattered about, each one readable even with their scratchy text and fading color, and all of them guided him forward. He had to be careful, be wary, because if Connie was still uncomfortable then anything could keep her on edge if he was too impulsive; so he kept an eye on her, looking back and asking her if she was fine as the sidewalks transitioned to the beginnings of flora, her answers reassuring him that she’s fine—or fine enough to speak, at least.

It wasn’t good to think about it too much, about if he was hurting her by accident, but he carried on. His hand held hers, hoping the location they were going to would give her something new without the noise and anxiety.

They went through a red gate. After a few seconds of walking, Steven loosened his fingers, allowing her to slip from him as the change in landscape settled in. The rustle of leaves was the first; it took him to another place, a quiet moment, watching the canopies rustle and dance with the breeze. Then came the scent of flowers. Then the tiny chirps of nature, of Earthly pleasures in their corners of the area—all of it bordered by low stone barriers and strips of fencing (enough for one to peak over the railings and brush against the petals with their fingers).

Before he could turn around, Connie answered him. “A Japanese garden.” She was still tense, but the weariness in her voice was fading off. “You brought me to a Japanese garden.”

He gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah.” He gave her jazz hands. “Tada!”

“We should go back.”

He frowned at her. Even with the change in atmosphere, something was still flickering in her eyes, something restless. “Connie, you can just tell me.”

“Tell you what?” There it was, the restlessness.

Steven had to be careful. He didn’t want to push her or make her believe she did something wrong. After all, he invited her, he never meant for her to get hurt or be overwhelmed by the party until Carly brought him to that reality. He needed to take this slow, just to make her realize that. 

“That parties weren’t your thing,” he rubbed his neck. “You looked really tense back there, so I thought this would be a cool change of pace.”

“I was fine back there, Steven.” She gave him a smile, yet the sentiment didn’t reach her eyes. “I appreciate your worries, but you don’t need to baby me. I’m an adult, I can handle a party.”

“Connie, are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“It’s okay to tell me.”

Her voice grew terse. “Steven, we need to go back.”

Steady, Universe, you need to get her to trust you. With it, he grounded himself again, allowing wisps of cold to escape his lips into the crisp January air. “Connie, I’m serious: you don’t have to lie to me about whether you feel fine or not, we’re jam buds after all. I’m not going to run away or force you to do anything that you don’t want.”

Her expression looked weary. Something about it made him shudder, like a release had been settled and now he was seeing something new, tangible—vulnerable.

“I’m sorry. I tried, I really did, Steven.”

“Wait, no, you don’t have to apologize,” he kept his voice calm, trying not to squeak it out in surprise. Think, Universe, you need to be careful. “I'd like it if you were comfortable with us than just forcing yourself to be there.”

She looked pained, lost in response. "But isn't that what friends are for?"

"What?"

"You really wanted me to come and," she exhaled, rubbing her arm, "I wanted to make you happy; friends are there for the other no matter what, and I didn't want to disappoint you."

"But that doesn't mean I expect you to be perfectly fine with it." Ah, he understood now. Steven gave a careful step towards her, noting the lack of response from her. He kept in place. "When you're friends with people, you need to tell them if anything makes you uneasy or weird, because friends have to respect each other even if they disagree and right now," he gave her a light smile, "I want to respect you, I want to show you that it's okay to be yourself around me."

She kept quiet, looking away in shame.

In the chill of the night, the tension was beginning to recede and melt, but he didn't know how far he had gotten to her. He started up again. "As your jam bud, you want to enjoy the gardens with me?" She turned her head, looking at him now, curiosity in her stare. "It's really nice here and I don't mind a quiet walk with you if you're into that."

Decision. Waiting for her eyes to shift, to bring herself to a choice. He wanted to do something with her, and if that meant taking it slow then he'll do just that.

Just for her.

"Yeah." A tiny smile. "A walk would be nice."

[sunfloweradoring]

the one with the terrible first date

Hi! So if you were wondering I was thinking of structuring the page like the stories with ‘the one with...’ being in chronological order. Obviously it’s totally fine to dip in & out whenever & to whichever story but I’ll refer back to events or things that happened in previous pieces. However, if you guys had specific requests whether they’re about one of the ‘the one with...’ stories or just in general I was thinking of doing some blurbs or mini one shots potentially connected to one of the stories if you just dropped me a message of what you were thinking. I hope this makes sense!

Anyway, enjoy this disastrous first date :) xx

masterlist

word count: 2.8k

Ever since the party 10 days ago Harry and I had been in contact almost nonstop. We’d only spent a matter of hours chatting that night, but I felt like I’d managed to gain some sort of understanding of him as a person in that time; whilst I was kind of right about that, in the days we’d been texting and sharing the occasional phone call, I was starting to realise what a genuinely kind-hearted guy he really was.

Each call or initiating message from him always started asking about me: how I was, how my day had been, what I was going to be doing the next day. Somehow he also managed to shift the focus off himself to me, making me feel like not only did he really care about the answers to these queries, but that I was the centre of his attention.

Therefore, when one Tuesday evening (after a particularly boring day trawling through a couple of scripts sent to me by my agent) Harry asked if I wanted to ‘go out sometime over the weekend’ I felt an eruption of butterflies in my tummy and a stupidly big grin take over my features.

‘yeah, that’d be cool :)’ I replied, trying to vastly underplay the amount of ‘cool’ it would be.

‘great :D’ He responded, ‘what are you doing saturday night? would you maybe wanna come round mine?’

‘that sounds like fun, do you want me to bring anything? we could have a movie night or something’ I texted back, already starting to feel slightly overcome with excitement as my hands felt a little sweaty as they tightly grasped my phone.

‘you let me worry about everything! send me your address and i’ll pick you up at 6:30, just bring yourself and your beautiful face ;)’

                                                          --------

“What are you gonna wear, then?” Saoirse questioned, leaning back against my headboard with her legs crossed out in front of her. I stood with my hands clamped to my hips, nearly half my wardrobe strewn out across the floor as I’d panicked earlier to find something to wear Saturday.

“Well, that’s the million pound question, isn’t it?” I huffed, pushing my hair out of my face as I inspected the various items of clothing cluttering up my bedroom carpet. “I don’t actually know what we’re doing so how am I supposed to know what to wear!”

Saoirse let out a little laugh as she swung her legs off the bed, pushing herself away from the mattress to stand beside me. “Okay, no need to get stressy. We’ve got the rest of the evening and all of tomorrow if we need it so just calm down.” She soothed, gently placing her hands on my arms as she guided me to take a seat on the bed. “What about this?” She questioned, leaning down and retrieving an emerald green knitted jumper from the pile and holding it up to her chest. “You could wear it with a skirt, or some trousers, jeans maybe. It would look really cute. Brings out your eyes.” Her words seemed to flow like a stream of conscious, her mind running away with her as she chucked it onto the bed beside me. I gathered it, holding it on my lap. It was my favourite jumper, but did it really shout first date?

“Those jeans are nice.” I spoke, leaning over the little rail at the end of my bed and pointing down to a blue pair of jeans. Saoirse glanced up at me, her eyebrows pulled together. “Um, no.” Was all she responded with.

                                                         --------

“Right, so you’re both going to the cinema and then having some food?” My aunt, Rose, confirmed, hands submerged in the sink as she washed up the dishes. I nodded tentatively. I’d lived with her long enough for her to see straight through me and now exactly when I was lying; thus I hoped if I kept my speech to a bare minimum I may be able to get away with it. “Alright, well I hope you and Saoirse have a nice time, say hello to her for me.” Rose smiled, glancing at me before returning to her task. I released a silent breath before leaving the kitchen, going to the front door.

At 6:28 I wanted to be at the front of the drive to avoid anyone from the house seeing Harry picking me up. As far as they knew, Saoirse and I were having a friend date and that’s all they needed to know. 

“Bye!” I shouted behind me as I pulled the door closed, zipped up my blue puffer jacket and ran down the two porch steps and stood at the end of the drive. With my hands stuffed in my pockets to protect me from the late winter chill, I tried to shield my face as best I could in the top of my jacket. 

I’d barely been standing there five minutes before a car slowed in front of me, the passenger window lowering and a head popping out over the passenger seat. I bent my knees a little to allow me to see inside the car.

“Hiya! Sorry I’m a little late. I think it’s the universe’s law that if you’re going somewhere for a certain time, every single red light has to hit you first.” Harry chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the handle of the driver’s door.

“It’s fine! Don’t worry.” I giggled, reaching for the handle of the passenger door. “Only like two-”

“Wait!” Harry squawked, shooting out of the car at the speed of light and running round in time to gently bat my hand away from the handle. “That’s my job.” He grinned, pulling open the door and gesturing with his hand for me to get in. I blushed a deep crimson. Fingers crossed he couldn’t see as I nipped into the car.

“Thank you.” I spoke shyly as he himself got back into the driver’s seat. He shot me a smirk as he started the car again.

“What kinda gentleman would I be if I let m’lady open a door for herself?” Harry joked, adopting a both accent as he drove away from the front of my house. The butterflies that had been dancing away inside my tummy since Tuesday suddenly became a frenzied explosion at his words; how on earth was I supposed to come with him saying things like this the rest of the night?

                                                         --------

Harry’s little apartment was warm an cozy - a needed escape from the frosty outside. It was small and quaint, but what more could you expect of a 17 year old, really? 

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Harry spoke, flicking on the light to illuminate a modestly decorated studio flat. He closed the door, removing his coat as he gestured to take mine too.

“Thank you.” I repeated in the same tone as before, shimmying out of my jacket. 

“So I made us dinner, and we can watch something afterwards if you still wanted to. But let me just put the food back in the oven to warm it up, yeah?” He smiled, his hand ghosting over the the bottom of my back as a way to guide me through the flat.

“It already smells really nice in here.” I complimented, breathing in the aromas of the food he’d obviously prepared earlier. 

“Ye haven’t tried it yet.” Harry jested with a little laugh. “But thanks, it’s one of my mum’s recipes I think. She told me it would be a good thing to make for a first date.” He explained, placing two covered dishes into the oven and turning it on. 

“Can I ask what it is, or is it a surprise?” I questioned, attempting to glance under the foil before the oven was promptly closed.

“Oi, no it’s a surprise!” He interjected, quickly moving his body in front of the oven. There was only a matter of inches between our faces, causing (for the second but most certainly not the last time) a blush to sweep my cheeks. “Right let’s see what film we can start while we wait for that to heat up.” His voice was far softer than usual, his eyes momentarily darting between mine and my lips. 

                                                        --------

I sat on his little sofa, flicking through the little booklet of DVDs he had stored. 

“When In Rome?” I questioned with a little laugh. “What’s a guy like you doing with a film like that?” I teased, looking up at him as he stood in front of the telly, hands holding the remote. 

“Heyyy,” Harry laughed, voice a little whiney. “I can be in touch with my feminine side, you know. I actually quite enjoy the odd RomCom.” He said, taking a seat next to me, his knee grazing the side of my jean covered leg.

“Sorry.” I giggled, continuing to flick through the pages. “Just never put you down for someone like that.” I shrugged.

“Oh? Then what kinda person did you put me down for then?” He smirked, leaning back into the sofa, his head propped in his hand as he elbow rested on the back of the cushion. 

“I don’t really know, maybe like every other teenage boy: too cool for this, and too busy with girls for that.” My words were intended as a joke, but there was a little part of me that perhaps thought there was some truth in it.

“No, no, no, definitely not.” Harry shook his head and sending his curls in every which direction, sitting up straighter. “My mother taught me to respect women, taught me to be kind to others and that you’re never too good for anything.” He said. A smile formed on my lips. He really was a true gentleman, wasn’t he?

                                                       --------

“And then it just kinda went from there.” Harry summarised, sipping from the glass bottle of coke. “Just went on there as myself but I think it’s pretty cool I’ve come out in a band. Who knows, could be the next Beatles.” He laughed. “Nah, we may get somewhere but nothing like them. They’re legends.” 

Before I could reply, my nose scrunched in displeasure at the new waft of smells assaulting my nostrils. “What’s tha-” The shrill beeping noise of the fire alarm cut me off.

“Shit!” Harry shouted, leaping up from the sofa and dashing towards the oven. As he wrenched open the oven door, a pillow of smoke tumbled out, causing him to cover his mouth and nose with his elbow as he attempted to turn off any heat source making the situation worse. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He chanted to himself, grabbing the oven gloves and pulling the two dishes out of the oven, placing them on the side and pulling of the foil covering. “Well that looks delicious.” He sarcastically observed, standing to the side as I walked up next to him. The food was entirely black, charred beyond belief. 

“Oh my god, Harry.” I pursed my lips together to prevent the laugh that was attempting to escape. “I’m sorry. I thought it was gonna be really nice.” I cleared my throat, wafting the air around with my hand. 

“You can laugh.” Harry spoke with a grin, bumping his hip into mine playfully. This seemed to unleash the giggles that had been hiding in my throat. “I just wanted to impress you.” He quietly whined. I slowly calmed down, holding out my arms in a offered hug. He pushed the oven gloves off his hands, walking towards me and wrapping his arms around my wait as mine encircled the back of his neck.

“You don’t need to try and impress me, Harry.” I spoke quietly, my lips near his ear. “I wanted to come on this date because I like you, not because I think you’re the next Jamie Oliver.” 

“Well I clearly showed that’s not in the near future, didn’t I!” He chuckled, his chest rumbling a little against mine.

“Let’s just order a pizza or something, yeah?” I offered, pulling away enough to see his face before he eagerly nodded. 

“You go sit down, I’ll get you another coke and I’ll order the pizza.” He smiled, quickly stealing a kiss from my cheek before he released me. “Anything in particular you want?” 

“Honestly anything, just not mushrooms.” I replied, turning around and taking my place on the sofa once more.

“No mushrooms? Are you like 5?” He joked, shooting me a wink as he picked up the phone to order the replacement food. I just giggled, shaking my head at him. 

He quickly ordered the pizza, going to the fridge and retrieving another bottle of coke. “Here ye go. Thanks for not freaking out about the food.” He smiled, getting a bottle opener to remove the top before walking in the direction of the sofa. What he hadn’t foreseen was that, in his panic to get to the oven only moments before, he’d managed to move the edge of the carpet into a folded position.

“Har-” I began but before anything else could leave my lips his sock covered toes connected with the dislodged carpet. His eyes widened in shock as he tripped forward towards the sofa, his hands going out to protect his fall, the bottle of coke flying forwards and spilling all over me. I shot up from the sofa, gasping at the sudden event.

“Oh my god! Oh my- Fuck, Y/N I’m so so so so sorry!” He panicked, jumping to his feet and approaching me with his hands held out to do something, yet he didn’t know what to do. 

“Um... it’s okay... uh do you have a towel or something before it goes everywhere?” I asked, looking down at my soaking jeans and the darkened material of the bottom half of my green jumper. 

“Uh, of course, yeah, let me just grab one.” Harry quickly ran off into the bathroom, coming back a second later with a towel. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. God this is terrible.” He muttered the second part of his sentence, handing me the towel as he stared at me. I wrapped it around myself, trying to soak up any of the liquid it could. “Here, let me get you something to change into. Can’t be sat there in those now.”

“Harry, it’s fine, honest-”

“No! I’ve been a twat, one sec.” Again he dashed off, coming back a moment later with a hoodie and a pair of joggers.

“Thanks, Harry.” I gave me a reassuring smile as I took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change. As I closed the door I could see him sat on the dry part of the sofa, head in hands. Poor boy. I looked at myself in the mirror, silently laughing to myself. This was certainly not how I was expecting tonight to go!

                                                      --------

“God I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Harry spoke, both our bellies now full with pizza as he walked with me to the door, grabbing both our jackets. I giggled at him as I put my jacket back on.

“Seriously, Harry, don’t worry about it. I’m literally the clumsiest person ever. It could have happened to anyone.” I replied.

“Really, the clumsiest?” 

“Okay,” I laughed. “The second clumsiest.” I jested, gently poking him with my elbow. “But you could do something to make it up.” I shyly added, avoiding eye contact. I could see his head snap in my direction.

“Anything! Yes, what is it?” He asked, stepping a little closer, but still remaining respectful with at least a few feet between us.

“You could give me a goodnight kiss.” I looked at his face, watching as his features seemed to light up.

“You still want to kiss me after I burned the food and tried to drown you in coke?” He asked, tone somewhat hopeful as he closed a little more of the space between us. I simply nodded my head, a little smile curving my lips. 

Harry’s grin remained prominent, his hands gentle as that came onto my waist, removing all the distance that was left between us. The intensity of his stare I had felt at the party was back, but I didn’t really have time to process it before we were both slowly leaning in to one another. 

His lips slowly pressed against my lips. The warmth of his skin against mine and the way neither of our mouths were entirely closed due to the fact we couldn’t stop grinning sent shivers shooting across my skin. His right hand left my waist, moving to cup my left cheek. My arms went around his middle, a sigh of pleasure leaving my lips as he pulled away, just enough to put a small amount of space between us so he could look me in the eye.

I think I could get used to that. 

[marjansmarwani]

Trouble Will Come

Chapter 4/4 

[Read on Ao3]

Word Count: 4767

Ever since TK had been caught up in Austin's latest serial bomber's attack, Carlos has thrown himself into looking for the mysterious bomber. He had watched his boyfriend almost die at the hands of this maniac, and he needed to do everything he could to make sure that never happened again. It makes him feel better, helps to counteract the helplessness he felt in that moment.

What he didn't expect was to actually find him, and to be trapped with him and a bomb in another abandoned factory. Now he just wants to make it out alive, because he is pretty sure TK will find a way to kill him if he doesn't.

Chapter summary: Someone wakes up, some people are reunited, and some trauma is addressed.

[Chapter 1]      [Chapter 2]       [Chapter 3]

The final chapter is here folks! I hope you enjoy it and thanks to any one who has stuck around I tried to do a multichapter fic for the first time in nearly a decade, you’re all the best and I appreciate you. 

-------- Carlos was having that dream again. 

It was the one that had haunted him for the past few weeks - the one where when TK was pulled out of the rubble, he didn’t wake up. It was so familiar by now that even his subconscious knew that it was a dream. Even as it was happening, there was a part of his mind whispering that this wasn’t real. 

Yet there was still a part - the larger, louder part - that didn’t listen. This part was so caught up in the horror of what he was seeing, in the absolute crushing grief of seeing TK lifeless; of knowing that he would never be able to see his smile or hear him laugh ever again, that all reason crumbled in the face of it. 

It may have been a dream, but it felt real. Every night he felt the crippling terror; sobbed real tears as he clutched the lifeless body of his boyfriend. Every night it was the same: TK was pulled out by his team, Carlos hovered over his battered and bruised body praying, begging for a miracle until Michelle shook her head sadly, and Carlos’s world shattered. Each time it was the same; the grief never grew any duller with use. It was a self-sharpening sword always ready to be plunged into his heart with unerring precision. 

Each time he would wake up, wild eyed with panic. The best nights were those where TK was beside him and he immediately knew it had been a dream. The worst ones were the ones where there was no immediate solution, where he woke up to an empty pillow beside him and he had to do the work to remember. TK was okay; TK was alive. TK had not died in that explosion (though he had given it his best shot). 

For whatever reason though, this time was different. The script remained the same, but the images had shifted. He was looking up at TK, who’s green eyes were open, and filled with tears. He wanted to wipe them away but he couldn’t move. He heard other voices - Mya, Owen, Michelle. It was too weird; he wasn’t accustomed to this dream, he wanted out. He tried to force his eyes open; screamed at his body to wake up, and nothing happened. 

The voices around him continued. They were panicked, frantic. They were a blend of the familiar and the strange. He felt as if he was floating; tethered only by a hot, burning pain. It was all a haze of noise and pain and confusion, and finally he couldn’t handle it anymore. He squeezed his eyes shut and welcomed the calm, silent darkness. 

-------

The next thing he knew, it was quiet. There were still noises, but they were manageable; comforting even. There were voices again - familiar though he could not place them. It was two voices, speaking softly to each other, before there was the sound of footsteps and only a single voice remained. He was drawn to the voice; this was someone he wanted to hear from. The words they were saying were still jumbled in his mind, but he heard his name said like a prayer, and the warm feel of a hand on his own. 

TK. It could only be TK. Carlos could feel his heart beat faster as he forced his eyes open. He blinked before turning his head towards the voice, bringing the room back into focus. When he turned his head he could see again, and found TK there in all his glory: tired and rumpled, but alive. He lightly squeezed the hand holding his before trying out his voice. 

“Hey you,” he croaked quietly. 

TK’s head shot up, eyes wide. “Carlos,” he breathed, voice heavy with emotion. “Oh my god, Carlos. You’re awake.” 

Now Carlos frowned, “Why do you sound surprised?” 

TK studied him, “What do you remember Carlos?” 

Carlos frowned at him before searching his memory. He remembered kissing TK goodbye, going to work, driving with Mya to a factory to search...oh. 

The realization must have shown on his face because TK smiled sadly at him, “yeah, it’s been a long night. But you’re okay, and that’s all that matters to me.” 

“I remember leaving the factory with Jared and then something happening. What was that? What happened?”

“There was an explosion as you were leaving the factory, you got caught up in it.” 

Carlos looked at him, eyes wide, “What? What explosion? Is everyone okay?” 

TK placed a steadying hand on his shoulder as he leaned closer, “Hey Carlos, breathe. It’s okay, everyone’s okay. The only ones hurt were you and the bomber, but he’s going to be fine. You were the one we were worried about.”

Carlos took a deep breath. Everyone was fine, they were all safe. “How did the bomb go off?,” he asked once his heart rate had returned to normal, “Jared disarmed it before we left, I watched him.” 

TK shrugged, “I don’t have most of those details, but from what I’ve put together over the past several hours of hearing bits and pieces; I would say your new friend may have been very good at making bombs, but not so good at defusing them. But you can ask Mya that, she should be by later.” 

There was quiet for a second before TK reached back over to grab his hand again, squeezing it gently, “You terrified me Carlos,” he admitted softly, “My dad called and told me what happened and I rushed here but the surgery took so long and no one knew what was going to happen, and I was so scared I could lose you.”

Carlos swallowed. He was all too familiar with that fear; he had been faced with it just a few short weeks ago and he had been relieving it every night since then. He had never wanted to put TK in that position. 

“I’m sorry,” he said sadly, “I didn’t mean…” 

“Carlos Reyes,” TK cut him off sharply, “you are not apologizing for getting caught in a bomb.” 

The locked gazes for a moment, and TK’s tone softened, “especially not to me. It’s not your fault. I’m just glad that you’re safe.” He gave him another smile and leaned forward to press a soft, tender kiss on his lips before settling back into his seat. 

Carlos swallowed. He couldn’t believe that any of this had happened, he couldn’t believe that their friends had gone through this trauma twice in such a short time. He couldn’t believe he had found the bomber. He couldn’t believe that he had been shot and caught in an explosion and had survived. He looked up at TK. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so much he wanted to tell him, but he didn’t know where to start. 

He was saved the trouble of figuring it out by the sound of a new voice at the door: “Just so we’re all clear, in my role as a captain and a father I am establishing a new rule: neither of you are ever allowed to be anywhere near a bomb or have anything to do with a bomb ever again.”

[Read the rest on Ao3!]

[impala-dreamer]

King Midas

SPN FanFic

~Dean gets hit with a curse and Y/N makes an unloseable bet.~

Dean x Reader, Sam

1,815 Words

Warnings: CRACK! It's just Crack, little smut chatter. Nothing too bad.

A/N: Sometimes you just need something ridiculous... Do hope you enjoy... ;)

Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

Bright light settled into a golden glow that pulsed around the room. Glass peppered the Oriental rug like shards of deadly confetti and a cold breeze blew through the now open windows; all shattered by the witch’s blast.

“Ya know!” Y/N’s voice rang through the room, annoyance clear in her yell.  

A big hand reached for her and she took it, allowing Sam to help her to her feet. “You OK?” he asked gently, hazel eyes brown in the gilded light that set around the edges of the disheveled room.

Y/N looked up and sighed, squinting up at him, aggravated. “Do you have any idea how many curses were flung at me before I met you two dumbasses?”

Dean laughed from the floor across from them and popped up on one elbow. “A few, I’m guessing.”

“None!” she yelled back, pulling a long piece of glass from her hair. “None.”

Sam held in a laugh, knowing she would calm down soon. She often called them dumbasses when she was annoyed and tired. It was like a pet name. A really rude, insulting pet name.

“Sorry, Y/N/N.” Sam swiped his hand across her shoulder and shooed away some dust and glass. “You cut anywhere?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nah, I’m fine. Just tired of getting knocked out by random colorful blasts. How come every witch we meet has the super rainbow explosion power?”

He shrugged and laughed under his breath. “I wish I knew.”

From the floor, Dean cleared his throat. “At least you didn’t take the rainbow bomb in the chest.”

“Oh shit, Dean,” Y/N cringed. “Are you alright?”

He waved a dismissive hand and then flipped over onto his stomach, pushing up on his hands and knees. “I’m fine. Can’t keep me down.” As he spoke, his lower back twitched painfully and he bowed, belly headed back towards the floor. “Gah!”

“Yeah, you’re fine,” Sam sniggered.

Dean grit his teeth and pushed hard on his hands, splaying his palms out flat on the rug. “Shut up, Sam!” A hot tingle spread down Dean’s right arm, starting at the shoulder and pushing down like warm syrup into his fingers and out the tips. “Oh…” Dean looked down and watched as the warmth left his hand and pulsed against the floor, fibers of the carpet heating up beneath his touch. “What the-”

“Dean?”

He turned to see Y/N’s annoyance gone, replaced with concern. Her eyes were big, her brow creased with worry. He shot up quickly, immediately forgetting the weird tingle.

“I’m good,” he said, shooting her a smile. “You guys hungry? I’m hungry.” He adjusted his collar and pushed passed them both, nearly knocking Y/N over as he headed for the door. “Saw a diner down the block. Daddy needs bacon.”

He may have needed bacon, but actually eating it didn’t seem like it was going to happen.

As soon as they left the witch’s house it started to happen; her curse taking on its form, showing off for the trio.

It started with the door knob but it was harder to notice since it was already metal. He lingered there, turning the knob in his hands as he waited for Sam and Y/N, and the tingle returned to his body.

Next was the iron railing coming down the front steps. They stood on the porch for a moment recounting some random information about the case, Dean leaning on his hand against the cold black metal. Again, the tingle flowed from his shoulder straight down until it left his hand.

If Dean had bothered to say something or hang out for a few more seconds, he would have seen what the warmth was doing. But as it was, he was hungry and failed to see that the things he touched turn to gold in his wake.

When shining gold began to overtake the weathered leather of the steering wheel, the Impala swerved dangerously on the country road and Dean screamed, driving off into the shoulder to park and panic.

“What the fuck!” Dean’s hands flew up and away from the wheel, his precious car becoming a victim of some quick working alchemy as he watched on in horror. He braced himself against the back of the seat, tingling beginning again as he clutched the upholstery.

“Well, that’s new…” Sam said curiously, leaning over the bench seat to look at the wheel.

The backseat squeaked as Y/N moved forward, looking over Dean’s heaving chest to see the gilded circle. It looked as if he had gold-leafed a perfect handprint on the leather.

“Whelp, guess we know what the curse was,” she said with a small laugh, sitting back and crossing her arms.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Dean’s head spun to look at her over his shoulder, brows creased, lips in a pout. “What!”

“You got the Midas Touch, my friend,” she said, nodding to the hand still clutching the back of his seat.

Sure enough, below his hand was a hard patch of pure gold.

Dean made a dying bleat noise and pulled his palm away from the seat. “Son of a bitch! My car!” Instinctively, he rubbed at his cheek, forgetting or perhaps not realizing what the strange tingling in his forearm foretold.

“Dean!” Sam barked, slapping Dean’s hand away from his face.

“What?” Dean looked from Sam to his own palm and then to the newly golden interior and his gears turned. “Oh, fuck me…”

“Not until this curse is over, Big Guy,” Y/N laughed, clicking her tongue.

Dean cast an annoyed glance in her direction. “This isn’t funny, Y/N!”

“Kinda is…”

“Is not!”

“OK, both of you shut up!” Sam commanded and the Impala fell silent. “Let’s just deal with this logically.”

Dean looked back at Sam like a boy who just found out there’s no Santa Clause. “How, Sam? How? How am I gonna eat? I need to eat.”

Y/N bit her tongue to stifle a laugh but couldn’t help making a comment. “He’s worried about food,” she said under her breath. “Wait till he has to take a piss…”

Dean found a bit of comfort in the old diner, hiding away in a booth in the back, old red vinyl seat molding to his tired ass as he sat there, forlorn and helpless. Every so often, Y/N would take pity on him and lift his burger to his lips, doing her best to feed the poor soul and not laugh in his face.

“So, it looks like the curse will wear off in twenty-four hours…” Sam swiped through the lore book on his laptop and shrugged. “Not too bad.”

Absentmindedly, Dean picked at a piece of bacon on his plate, jaw dropping as Sam seemed to brush off his predicament. “No big deal? Sam...I’m dying here. I’m gonna have to wear mittens to bed.”

Y/N shook her head. “Wouldn’t the mittens just turn to gold?”

Dean rolled his eyes at her. “Why are you so nasty this week?”

She sneered. “I don’t know. Just tired of witches and their bullshit.”

“Same,” Dean agreed with a sigh and lifted the bacon to his lips. He took a bite and immediately spit it back out. “Oh, come on! Not the bacon!”

“Everything you touch, Dean. Bacon, the car, your shirt, you! Everything.” Sam over enunciated the last word just to drive the point into his brother’s head, but Dean just slumped in his seat and pouted some more.

“This blows.”

Y/N grinned and looked at Sam. “Twenty bucks says he’s got golden junk by morning.”

Dean sat straight up and gasped. “Excuse me! I can control myself for twenty-four hours!”

“No, Dean,” she laughed. “You can’t.”

Dean lounged on the bed, fully clothed atop the comforter, propped up by pillows. He sat with his palms up, hands resting on his thighs. He was exhausted.

“Pssst!”

Sam looked up from his laptop slowly, distracted by Dean’s less than quiet call. “What?”

“What if…” He paused, looking towards the bathroom door behind which, Y/N was changing for bed. “What if I accidentally like grab her boobs while I’m sleeping?”

Sam laughed, head shaking as he wondered why Dean was such an idiot sometimes. “Just don’t touch her.”

“Yeah, but,” Dean whispered loudly, “what if I do?”

“Then that would suck,” Sam said simply. “So don’t.”

Another look at the bathroom door and Dean groaned pathetically. “Can I sleep with you?”

Sam scoffed. “What? No!”

Dean growled and pouted. “You suck.”

“Ready for bed?” Y/N appeared in the doorway, night shirt loose around her thighs but tight across her chest.

Dean drooled. “Uh, yeah.”

She hopped into the bed beside him and pecked his cheek sweetly. “No touchy.”

Her smile was both enticing and mocking, but Dean couldn’t decide which was more appealing. The idea of not being able to touch her all night was driving him mad.

“No touchy,” he echoed, silently praying that his hands would just fall off.

“Night, Sam!” Y/N called over Dean’s chest.

“Night,” Sam murmured back.

“Great,” Dean sighed as Y/N lay down and snuggled up against his side, her plump ass warm against his leg. “Just...great.”

“Oh, fuck…”

A moan tickled Y/N’s ear and she stirred.

“Goddamn, baby...mhm… just like that.”

Sam’s dream began to fade.

“Oh, shit. Shit. Shit!”

A scream woke them both and Sam jumped from his bed to bang on the bathroom door, Dean’s frantic yell making his heart race. Y/N bolted up out of bed too, right behind Sam, her breath short with worry.

“Dean!” Sam banged again, giant fist rattling the entire door. “What’s going on?”

The noise died down and the door opened up, bright white light spilling into the dark room.

Dean stood in the bathroom, his face twisted with guilt and pain, his shorts tented boldly. Y/N looked down to the fabric pop-up and saw a hint of gold glinting from the flap.  

Sam saw it too and shook his head. “Dean… no.”

Y/N rubbed her tired eyes and turned away, headed back to bed. “I called it!” She shook her head and plopped back down into bed, gathering up her pillow and closing her eyes. “I fucking called it.”

Sam looked down at Dean and sighed. “One night, man. One.”

Dean shrugged innocently and laughed at himself. “I… I couldn’t help it. I’m a man. I have urges, Sam.”

“Yeah, well now you got a golden dick!” Y/N called from the bed.

“This sucks.” Dean’s shoulders fell and he looked down at his 24 carat cock.

“Hey,” Sam said, trying to make him feel a little better, “at least you didn’t grab her boobs…”

Dean grunted and pushed passed his brother to go lay down. “Yeah… shut up, Sammy.”

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