#anyway I spent way too much time in between waiting for things to load at work looking up seals so

[ollieofthebeholder]

I have so many other projects going right now including the "Tim gets hired as Gertrude's assistant after Danny dies" AU I made the mistake of joking about in the notes of Chapter 68 of promise and now am invested in, but sometime in the last 48 hours I got randomly struck with an idea for my version of a "Martin is a selkie" AU and I have lore for it and honestly at this point it's going to be whichever of those two I figure out the endgame for is going to get written first.

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ it's sticky, toshi... ❞

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : you help ushijima finally realize that he's got a breeding kink

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...cw : u. wakatoshi x fem!reader, dirty talk, messy and wet, teasing, marathon sex, pet names, breeding kink, talks of pregnancy, ushijima can't stop cumming

ᯓ ❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : haikyuu save me, save me ushijima wakatoshi, SAVE ME !! anyways hi i spent 150$ on ushijima merch yesterday and i don't regret it, so say hello to my haikyuu phase coming back !!!

ushijima having a breeding kink isn't a surprise to you at all.

what is surprising is how long it takes for him to figure it out.

sure, at first it wasn't clear, but after being with him for so long, you quickly pick up on whenever he'd mutter in your ear as he slid his stupidly big cock inside of you, saying how badly he wished he could cum inside of you instead in the condom.

afterwards, he's so focused on cleaning you up and making sure you felt good and satisfied, you don't get a chance to question him on it. not that you were complaining, ushijima is so cute when he's asking if you need anything and constantly reminds you to get up and go use the bathroom.

it's even cuter when he realizes you can't walk.

"ah. i'm sorry, i didn't realize how hard i went...here, let me help."

eventually, you to suggest things to ushijima, trying to test out the waters with him.

you start by just asking if he’d want to fuck you without the condom, what he thought about cumming inside, even jokingly saying you’d make him a dad one day.

but it seems like that last part was swimming around his head for a while...he can't get the thought of you getting chubby and round with his kid out of your head. and knowing he'd be able to take care of you all the time? that thought alone made him shiver a little.

what can he say, he loves doting on you more than anything.

however, you aren't expecting the way he reacted weeks after dealing with your teasing and questioning, fueling the thoughts swirling inside his head.

"toshi, if you ever cum inside me, you should set it as your phone background! actually, wait, no, because what if your teammates see it..."

"..."

"mm, maybe a video instead? ooh, yeah, i want a video of you cumming in me then pullin' out so i can see it spill out, toshtosh, would you do that f' me?"

he doesn't reply and doesn't give you a chance to comment again. the visual you painted in his mind just too much for him.

next thing you know, ushi's got you folded in half on the bed, making sure you feel every drag of his stupidly fat cock against your hot gummy walls. he's pulling out to just the tip before slamming back inside you, groaning each time you let out a whimper of his name or squeeze down on him.

"toshi, t-toshi! h-hoohmygod, please, baby, c-calm down, 'm sorry f' teasin', oh my goddd...!"

you're so fucking wet and noisy, he wants to make you be quiet because he feels like your going to make him cum too fast but he'd never ever do it as the thought of not being able to hear you is painful.

he's lost track of time, your cunt making him brainless as he pumps his cock in and out of you as he groans your name, one of his hands pinning your arms to your back while the other presses your head into the pillows.

"s-shhh, honey, let...let me make you feel good, y're so loud..."

it's so fucking messy and sloppy, his cum is dripping out of your tight pussy from how many times he’s emptied his load into you, but he still isn’t stopping, no, he can't. it’s leaking from between your thighs, leaving a milky white sheen on his dick, dripping down onto the bedsheets.

"m-mmh, nooo, toshi, don' wanna be quiet, i-i wan' you to hear how good you make me feel, baby," you purr between moans, knowing that your voice was enough to get him off. the throb of his dick inside of you told you that you were right.

“i...i thought 'bout fucking you like this all day, during practice…that i’d fuck you full of my cum, get it so deep inside you," he mutters with a grunt, moving his hands off you so he could drape himself over your back.

"f-fuck, everyone knew something was off, kageyama kept asking me if-if was okay, how 'm i 'posed to tell him my pretty little honey is waiting at home for me to fill them with my cum?”

with an affirming coo, you manage to tilt your head to the side to look over your shoulder, wanting to see how ushijima is holding up and god, the sight is so sinful.

ushijima's dripping in sweat, his bottom lip swollen and puffy from his teeth digging into it. his fluffy hair is messy and sticking to his damp forehead, and his eyes are shut, squeezing in pleasure when the head of his cock brushed against that sweet spot just right, making your cunt spasm around him.

but his eyes keep opening to see the mess between the both of you. each thrust causes his cum to spill out around him, loud, wet squelches filling the bedroom. and it's only fueling his need to fill you up again, and again, and again, until he can’t anymore.

ushijima can’t stop himself, flipping you over onto your back and folding you into a mating press and, god, he's so fucking happy he did. the way you sob his name, your nails clawing at his back as you cry in pleasure about how much deeper he is now driving him insane.

“t-toshi, cum in me, please, wanna make you a daddy, please.”

“I know, baby, I’ll give you all of it, fuck you full of cum until you can’t take anymore.”

fuck, he’s so loud, he sounds so good. ushi's deep, drawn out groans and pants of your name making you go dizzy, his big hands squeezing your waist tightly each time your hands tug at his hair.

“mm, fuck, that’s right, take all my cum, look at you, so good, can you take more? let...let me cum in you again, baby, you promised you’d make me a daddy, right? i-i need to make sure it sticks.”

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[priniya]

🌌 TOO MANY NIGHTS

synopsis. theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend.

notes. theodore nott x riddle!reader. reader is a hufflepuff! pls, let’s pretend you’re 12 when u get to hogwarts xoxo, just for the plot

theodore nott had always been fascinated by how many differences there were between his best friend mattheo and mattheo’s younger sister. while mattheo wanted to fight anyone, who just scrunched their nose at him, you would rather have your nose broken, so the other person wouldn’t have to go through that pain. while mattheo could be consider as the grumpy (their oldest sibling obviously being the grumpier), you held the tilte of the sunshine.

theo believed it suited you. ever since the three of you were kids, mattheo had his best friend grow protective of you in the same way he had, looking out for you even if you didn’t want it. however, whenever it was nott making your blood boil with some nonsense — you couldn’t get as mad at him as you’d get at your brother. it’s because he’s not my brother, he’s theo, you’d always tell yourself. the truth was that as much as you wanted, you could never be angry with him.

the same thing continued when you started hogwarts. although, you could feel the shifting of your friendship with theo. maybe it all started to happen, because you were growing up, or maybe it was meant to be like that. anyways — you found yourself dreaming of your childhood friend in situations… that made you blush profusely whenever you walked passed him. it was complicating things so much you tried to push it aside, nevertheless to no avail.

“you like him.” a friend of yours joked, when you confessed your thoughts about theo, and… even if gabriela said it in a joking way, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.

turns out, she was.

it was all revealed, when another older friend of yours asked you out to the yule ball, and you had to watch theo having fun with daphne greengrass as well as their own group of friends that you weren’t a part of. did it sting? like hell. should’ve you expected it? absolutely. some would say — you should wait for the moment, when he asks you to the ball, but you knew you were just matt’s little sister in his eyes. a mere childhood friend he used to play with when he was younger, though all that ended the second he (and your brother) got his letter, from this moment on theodore nott was a serious, adult man.

few years later, when the slytherins were throwing a party in celebration of mattheo’s eighteen birthday, as his sister, you got an invitation. as much as you loved your brother, you definitely weren’t a big party person — you’d rather spend your time in the smaller group of people, chilling to the muggle music and maybe get high. nonetheless, it was your sibling’s birthday and you wouldn’t hear the end of it if you didn’t show up.

to be fair, matt’s celebration was one of the first slytherin parties you ever attended, and from all the rumors coating its mysterious aura, your expectations were pretty high.

gabriela, the friend of yours, whom you confided in having a small crush on theo, apparently never forgotten that conversation and decided to ‘spice your night a tad’, her exact words. she lent you a fitted, emerald, silky dress that ended slightly above your knee, she did your make up and gave a nose kiss for good luck.

for the first two and a half hour of the party, you couldn’t really catch a glimpse of the boy you were looking for, so your attention were turned towards plan b, which was getting wasted — and maybe meeting someone to get your brother’s best friend off your mind. so as i said, two and a half hour later, you were much more eccentric, bubbly, and definitely more ray of sunshine, caused by the loads of alcohol you put in yourself.

“teddy!” you exclaimed with a grin as you swiftly made your way towards where he was sitting in the corner of the room. a cigarette in his hand, few of his first buttons undone, a smirk lingering on his lips, although it was gone the second he saw you, being replaced with a genuine, but almost unnoticeable smile.

“riddle.” he replied. the corners of his lips went slightly upwards as your hands were wrapped around him, right after you plopped down on the couch next to him. “drunk?” theo asked, his head tilted to the side to get a better view of your flushed face.

“never.” a giggle slipped past your lips. you leaned more on him, serving him another one of your charming beams. “can i have a hypothetical question?”

“hypothetical?” he echoed your words, suppressing a laugh in attempt to not hurt your drunken feelings. “sure, riddle. go on.” nott added upon seing you nod your head.

“could you give me one of your cigarettes?” you grinned once again, putting all effort into a pleading puppy expression you thought you’ve mastered. his answers made you uncertain about your manipulation/daddy’s girl skills.

once again, theodore fought back a chuckle, putting on a teasing smirk. “no.”

“teddy!”

“what? wasn’t it hypothetical?” he snickered, watching you groan theatrically, lowering yourself on the green sofa. it took him a moment to ease your needs and pull out a package of muggle cigarettes that made you raise your eyebrow in curiosity at him. “they’re the best, believe me.” he mumbled with a cigarette in between his lips.

soon after, he tugged you closer after having looked around to see if mattheo was out of sight. as soon as his nerves were settled and your brother was nowhere to be found, theo’s fingers were wrapped around the lighter he bought in second year. the asshole he was, it felt like he was lighting it up for so long you were about to turn eighty. his gaze was instantly focused on your eyes. butterflies were slowly erupting in your stomach with each second he slacked off to light it.

somehow, you two parted your ways few minutes later, ending the sparkling moment between you two with a quick and rash kiss on nott’s cheek, a little too close to his lips for your brother’s liking, too far for yours.

although, the separation didn’t last too long. at least for him, because, when you met him again, you were drunk out of your mind, giggling at every single word someone said to you. good thing theo’s gut feeling told him to look after you.

you were stumbling over your own feet, stuttering at easiest words until you finally landed in paradise— or just his arms. accidentally, but you could cross it out from your checklist, not that you had one.

“hiya.” a soft smile made its way onto your face as he tightened the grip on your waist, not because you smiled so charmingly at him, but also because some older dudes that occupied his previous spot was busy undressing you with their eyes.

if you weren’t mattheo’s little sister, he’d probably try to get you to agree to have a quick round in his round, hell — maybe not even that quick, he could spend an entire night with a girl like you. unfortunately, the reality was different. he could never take an advantage of you, you were too… you and theodore nott liked that too much to just… ruin it.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, frowning as he picked you up and turned towards the staircase. “teddy– put me down, please.” the words left your lips in a slurred manner, but theodore didn’t budge, not even once.

the teenager obeyed your request the moment he walked through the door to his dormitory that was shared with mattheo. theodore sat you on his bed, his green eyes scanning your face intently, while you stiffled a laughter. as a result, you got a confused expression from him. “what?” he asked.

“you’re so pretty.” a soft mumble left your mouth. it had always been hard to catch theodore nott off guard, mostly because he was an intelligent and cunning person, who always noticed the bigger picture, predict the intentions before someone even opened their mouth, yet you did it. if your mind wasn’t so clouded with alcohol, you’d count it as a small win.

anyway, theo didn’t let your words get too much of a hold on him as he silently continued to undress you. as wrong as it sounds, he was doing you a simple favour — nott wanted to bring you comfort and safety, so he dragged you to his dorm and began unzipping your dress, leaving you in your underwear.

it took the boy all the possible strength he had in himself to control all the urges he just felt. it would be so wrong if he got hard just from the mere sight of the goddess sitting in front of him, with pouty lips and a baffled expression caused by his lack of response to her compliment.

“teddy?” you tried getting his attention once again, involuntarily scrapping off the polish of your nails as your eyes rested on his back, watching him shuffle through his closet to find you a comfortable pyjama.

to be fair, theo absolutely loathed the nickname. teddy reminded him of a child he used to be, a child with a loving mother, who would always call him that exact nickname. it wasn’t too much of a hassle, because no one called him that — until you did and it seemed like you couldn’t get rid of it from your vocabulary. somehow, it never bugged him when you did it. the way ‘teddy’ rolled off your tongue always gave him some sort of warm feeling in his stomach.

“mm?” your brother’s best friend muttered, his back still facing you. seconds later, he’s again in front of you, nudging you yet so slightly, so you put your hands above your head. “what is it, y/n/n?” he used the nickname you haven’t heard in a while, causing a literal war in your abdomen.

“could you kiss me?” for barely a second, his brain stopped functioning. he stopped in his tracks, oversized t–shirt still in his hands, all that until he decided to spare your embarrassment the next day and acted like he didn’t just hear what he heard. he was foolish for thinking that a sight of you almost naked and not getting a hard–on was the worst part of his night. now, theodore’s brain was filled with images of you two making out, and… it’s tough.

wordlessly, he finally put the shirt on you, nudging you afterwards, worry was still vividly lingering on his face as he watched you getting comfortable. “i’ll be right here.” nott murmured, grabbing a pillow, laying down on the floor. theo on one side of his bed, the bucket he brought you in case throwing up on the other.

both of you knew that he could go back downstairs, maybe even hook���up with some girl and spend the night at her dorm, just like mattheo did. nevertheless, he stayed there right with you.

it was further in the night, when you woke up and noticed that he still occupied his spot on the floor next to the bed. a pang of guilt hit you (as well as the pounding in your head) as you stared at his peaceful state.

merlin, theodore faustus nott was today times’ adonis and you felt like you could just spend the rest of the night gawking at how insanely beautiful he was. you could barely resist the urge to run your hand through his dark curls.

“you know i can feel you’re staring, riddle?” theo chuckled with his eyes still closed. shit. at least it was dark enough, so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. “somethin’ bothering you?” he asked, giving you a concerned look.

“sleep on the bed, please?” you pleaded. he was about to refuse, when you continued. “i know you don’t want to kiss me, but it breaks my heart seeing you suffer there, when there’s enough room for two people here.” the words coming out of your mouth are quiet. the embarrassment and absurdity of this whole situation got to you — if you just didn’t ask him to kiss you, he’d probably sleep in the bed with you, but you obviously had to ruin it.

“y/n/n, i want to kiss you.” he said, his tone matching yours. “but i can’t, you know it. mattheo would kill me the second he knew.” theo knew he shouldn’t but the urge was too great to resist, so he placed his hands on your knees, reducing the distance between the two of you.

“matt doesn’t have to know.” a whispers left your lips as you leaned an inch closer, brushing the tip of your nose against theo’s. “teddy, please.” you pleaded, staring at him with urgency in your eyes.

it took theodore half a second to consider his options. he could’ve refused and regret it afterwards, but stay alive or he could’ve just kissed you and maybe get into a heated argument with mattheo. so… a voice in his head said fuck it and kissed you with all those feelings he’s had in him.

you could feel your entire world stop the second his lips fell on yours with urgency and passion. it was all you ever dreamed of, he was the guy who was your last thought before sleep and the first after waking up. a silly, childhood crush that developed over the years into… something you couldn’t describe. theodore nott had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing it — if he asked you to jump into a fire pit for a longing glance, you wouldn’t think about it twice and jump.

your fingers were tangled in his curls as he, without breaking the kiss, leaned more towards you, until your back hit the fabric of his sheets. to be completely honest, you felt like your stomach was about to be ripped apart just from the proximity between the two of you.

the kiss lasted way longer than you expected. it could’ve been hours, but you could never been sure. his lips were just inches apart, when he pulled away yet so slighty, letting out a groan as you nudged the tip of your nose again his.

“you don’t even know how much i wanted to do that.” his words were quiet. “matt will kill me, won’t he?” a low chuckle espaced his throat qs you let out a groan in response.

“could you stop mentioning my brother and just kiss me, nott?”

[unformula1]

part 2 for that lando fic plzz 🙏🙏 ill patiently wait 🥹

promises - 2 (ln4)

part 1 || lando reaches out to you, and you seek the closure you need (3898 words) a/n: this one is pretty long so take a break mid read if you need. i also spent SO LONG trying to find the right way to close this. if theres any feedback dont be afraid to share. || masterlist taglist/thanks for supporting lol: @unknownmystery22 @hlhl99 @landorris @aleatorio1234 @sopanngon @abq46 @notsoordinaryatlas @hadesnumber1daughter @milk-en-suggarrr @daemyratwst @artsucker12 @pancakes4nina @cmleitora @krishasworld @chicanecharm43381310

“Lando?” You audibly spoke.

Your finger hovered over the notification for a few seconds as you stared blankly at the screen. 

Why would he text you? And more specifically, why now?

You quickly sat back down on your couch, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing yourself. You didn’t even know why you were so stressed about this.

You opened the notification and sat there as the app took what felt like forever to load into the DM.

landonorris: hi, remember me? hope you do :) i’m coming back this week, do you wanna meet up.

Oh. Oh.

You gave yourself a few seconds to process everything, placing your phone face down on the couch. 

Lando Norris just DMed you.

The Lando Norris. 

The Lando Norris who used to be friends with you

The Lando Norris who cut ties with you

“Okay.” You whispered to yourself as the air in your apartment grew tense. You picked your phone back up.

This was so stupid, why were you thinking so much about this? This was still that little kid at the playground who talked about taking over the world with a racing kart.

You stared at your phone, the message glowing on the screen back into your eyes. A small part of you wanted to be bitter, say no, reject him. For all the lost years that you two could've had, for the unfulfilled promises that he probably threw away in favour of his bigger ambitions.

You sighed. Deep down, nothing would ever come between you and Lando. You liked to believe you two would still be as close as you two were back then. Your emotions were feeling all too complex, all too messy. 

You typed in your message and sent them as quickly as possible, before you’d second-think yourself.

hi lando. it’s been a while. i’d love to meet up again. send me the details.

You internally cringed at yourself before switching off your phone. 

Now it was just you, and your thoughts.

You missed Lando but he made all those empty, bland, pointless promises only to ditch them all to fly towards his ambitions; and it took you forever but eventually, you came to peace with it. 

It was probably the hardest thing you had to do, you couldn’t just forget 10-ish years of friendship, some of your purest moments with Lando, your toughest and your wildest moments. You basically grew up with him, and watched him grow, and somehow now you had to live without it.

You never left the town you two grew up in, it never felt right to abandon your entire childhood. Never felt right to abandon Lando. So you stayed, you got your own apartment, your own job. You also visited the playground a few times a month, just for the feels, or when you desperately needed someone to talk to.

No one came close to Lando. Or rather, no one would ever come close to what Lando made you feel. If he was the standard, everyone else fell short.

Sometimes, when things got tough, you’d visit the playground again, sitting at the exact same spot and looking up at the moon, then everything would start flowing back in, all the wishes, the stinging feelings.

But anyway, Lando was gone and that was something that you couldn’t change. 

Your phone chimed again, snapping you out of your swirling thoughts, prompting you to pick your phone back up.

landonorris: i’m free this weekend so i’m coming back if that’s okay landonorris: we have a lot of catching up to do.

You took a deep breath. It wasn’t worth dwelling on the negatives, you could sort that out when he arrived. It was always better to talk about these things in person… right?

He sent you another message.

landonorris: and i have an apology to make

You froze. Oh shit.

You blinked a few times, concerned that your eyes were playing some trick on you.

They weren’t.

You opened the DM on a slight impulse. Looking at the messages, you didn’t really know what to reply.

i’m excited to see you again 

i’ll pick you up at the airport

You settled on liking the message about an apology, at least he would know you weren’t just conveniently ignoring it.

It took some time but it dawned on you the gravity of it all. It was years of disconnection that would culminate in a few days, and it would probably determine if this friendship would continue.

You never thought that one day you’d be messaging Lando again, let alone agreeing to meet up with him. It just felt so unreal, like you were in some sick fever dream, but it wasn’t. This was real.

No normal person would’ve done this, but you and Lando didn’t have a normal relationship, it was both of your childhoods. So this made sense. Right?

It held something in your heart, because you wanted this to continue, you were still that child who never wanted to let Lando leave the airport and never come back. However, you also didn’t know if this was right, more empty promises were only going to hurt you even more.

You took a deep breath.

You were ready for this.

—

You were, in fact, probably never ready for this. You couldn’t mentally prepare yourself for this. How could you?

You were in the taxi on the way to the airport, as you stared at the chat messages. You had messaged each other back and forth for this whole week, nothing more than simple, surface level messages and the occasional “remember when”. Something always felt weird, pretending the years of no contact never existed.

You looked out the window as the giant buildings upon buildings graced your eyes. You hadn’t been here in forever, not since Lando left. You never really needed to leave this place.

You held onto the gift you got for him, which were cookies, the ones your parents used to make for you and him. The ones he loved and always begged for more. You hoped he still liked them.

Around your neck was the necklace he gave you all those years ago, which you still kept by your bedside, just for old-times sake. You hoped he still had his one.

You exited the taxi and walked through the automatic doors of the airport. The gush of air conditioning rushed against your face as you stood there. It wasn’t even peak season and the place was packed. 

You double checked the gate which Lando sent you before making your way over there, gripping tightly onto the packet of cookies. You spent hours finding the perfect packaging for it, maybe you were a perfectionist, or maybe you just wanted it perfect for Lando.

You took some time, since the place had changed a lot since you last came here, but you found the gate. You leaned against a nearby pillar, holding onto your gift for him pretty tightly, almost creasing the packaging. 

You waited patiently for him as your mind reminisced the last time you were here.

His tear stained eyes looking into yours as he hugged you tightly, promising to stay in touch. Then he turned around and left, looking back at you a few times as you couldn’t bear to watch him go.

You dreamt about it a few times, and times where you’d run after him and not let him go, or where he’d stop, turn around and come back to you, choosing not to go. Then you’d wake up.

Now, it was really happening. You would watch him walk out the gates of the airport, not into them. He wouldn’t disappear into the crowd, but he’d be running towards you. Hopefully.

You glanced up at the flight board.

LANDED

You pushed yourself up from leaning on the wall, straightening your posture, taking a deep breath as you waited behind the railings near the exit of the arrival hall. The minutes crept by slowly, your eyes kept darting around, constantly fiddling with your fingers. 

This was real. You were about to see Lando again, after who knows how many years.

Your foot tapped against the marbled floor incessantly, and you felt your fingers tangling and untangling themselves as a large crowd of people flooded into the arrival hall. You felt your breathing grow shaky as the nervousness engulfed your beating heart.

With their luggages, people exited the arrival hall, running up to their family, giving them tight hugs, or those being gifted with flowers. You glanced over at them, smiling slightly at the pure joy that filled the area. As the seconds slowly crawled by, your heart rate increased, thumping hard against your ribcage, you could feel the vibrations around your body. 

Why were you even nervous? You told yourself and closed your eyes, taking constant breaths in and out.

You opened your eyes slowly.

And there he was, in all his glory.

Lando Norris.

Lando’s curls had definitely gotten more curlier, and he grew himself a stubble, which you vividly remember him always being unable to. His face had grown more mature since the last time. 

However, his eyes were still that same brown-blue glistening.

He looked over at you, finally noticing you as you zoned out just looking at him. He smiled, and made a subtle wave. He held his luggage in one hand, having a duffle bag strapped around the handles, and in his other was a black hoodie.

You snapped out of your daze and waved back at him. He picked up his walking speed, rolling his luggage over to the exit of the arrival hall, before snaking around the railing. He wasn’t running, he was brisk walking over to you.

And now you two, were once again, face to face. It would never hurt less, just remembering the last time they were doing this, Lando would be turning away and walking off, disappearing for the next decade or so.

But that was last time. This was now.

Lando placed the hoodie onto the top of the duffle bag, opening his arms slightly. You stood there for a while, your eyes trailing all over Lando.

Then you released your emotions, you felt the tears slowly spill out as you sprinted into his arms, embracing him tightly. Your arms clasped around his body, keeping him in your embrace. You felt his arms slowly come around your body as well as he hugged you back.

You could hear some ‘aww’s in the background of it all but nothing mattered more than this. 

It was years upon years of missing him, and now you had him. It took you two a few long long seconds before you pulled away from him, wiping away the remaining tears on your face. It was clear he cried a little too as he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe his face.

“Hi.” Lando said after a deep breath. His voice felt so much deeper, so much more different than last time. Only now do you catch his necklace, he remembered, he kept it with him, he’s wearing it. 

Then once again, it felt like nothing ever stood between you two, like the sky could fall and you two would still stand with each other.

“Lando…” You said, trying to sound confident but your voice faltered slightly.

You hand him the packet of cookies and he receives them with visible marvel. His hands felt soft against yours as he took the packet of cookies, placing them in his duffle bag. 

“Well uh…thanks.” Lando said, rubbing the back of his neck, “My hotel isn’t ready for a few hours.”

“We can talk later.” You blurted, “We could eat first.”

He nodded.

The cab ride was silent, too silent for your liking. It made you think again, deeper this time. You genuinely missed Lando, sure you “moved on�� but you could never replace Lando. You reminisced again, the same recurring dream you had for the first few months, when you didn’t know if you could see Lando again. The same nightmare which haunted you when you two stopped talking for good.

Lando shuffled closer to you, which pulled you out of your thoughts. He yawned and looked at you, flashing a really subtle smile, running his hand through his curly hair.

He looked at you knowingly, like he knew all your thoughts right now. You smile back, hoping it doesn’t come off as shaky and uncertain. His head slowly falls down towards your shoulder, and you don’t stop him.

His head is now resting comfortably, hopefully, on your shoulder as he shifts even closer to you. You catch a glimpse at his face, it’s peaceful, like nothing in the world could hurt him, like when you two were kids. His breathing is constant, the rise and fall of his chest is tranquil. 

—

As both of you wait outside the restaurant, Lando says, “Actually, I’m not hungry.” 

You turn to look at him.

“Could we maybe just… take a walk.” Lando suggests.

You shrug, you didn’t mind anything. 

“With all your luggage?” You ask.

“Yea, I don’t really mind.” He says.

“Sure.” You reply.

Both of you walk away from the restaurant, walking in some general direction. 

And now, in the endless constant motion of the world, it gave both of you a moment, a moment to talk.

He takes a deep breath, fingers tapping on the handle of his luggage, “Sorry.” His voice softens.

You nod, knowing you couldn’t postpone this for much longer.

“I missed you.” You say after a pause, “I missed you a lot.”

Lando’s head drops as he wipes away what seems like tears.

“I know…” He says, his voice shaky, “I shouldn’t have-”

This was a really bad place to have a breakdown, you tell yourself, even though you felt the growing urge in your body to just let everything loose.

“I can’t stop thinking about how horrible it was.” Lando says, clearly he is letting himself loose, “I didn’t mean to lose contact with you, I know that must’ve hurt you.”

You nod again, not really sure if you should respond to him.

“It’s been haunting.” He says, “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t… no, I should never have left you alone.” He says, “I made all these stupid promises to you which I never bothered keeping and… and it just… you didn’t deserve any of that.”

Lando’s hands are slowly gripping harder and harder onto the necklace around his neck. 

“You basically grew up with me and… I shouldn’t have let anything make me forget that.” He takes a deep breath, “But I did, and I know I hurt you.”

You feel something warm bubbling in your body. It was so stupid, how all you needed was this moment, and it happened on a sidewalk of a randomly busy road. You shut your eyes and take it all in.

“And I know it took me too long to realise that, and I’m sorry that it took me that long.” He says, his voice shaking as time went on, “I’m here now, and please… let me fix it.”

The silence for a few seconds prompts you to speak up.

You gently hold the hand that was gripping his necklace. You feel him loosen his grip.

“You know, when we were still kids, you used to tell me how you’d take over the world and all that…”

Lando’s face darkens as he nods.

“And guess what,” You smile slightly, “You did exactly that, and I’m so… so… proud of you, and nothing will ever come between that.”

Tears brim in Lando's eyes and you don’t know how much longer you’ll last.

“I couldn’t ask for anything better for you.”

Lando slowly falls into your embrace once again, you catch him and tightly hold onto him.

Between sobs, he says, “Please… please I’m sorry, I’ll fix everything.”

You gently pat his back, “You don’t have to fix anything.”

Sure you were bitter about him leaving you alone, but this was Lando, this was the same kid at the playground, and you would never forget that.

Because at the end of the day, you weren’t mad at Lando, you never were, you just missed him. You missed knowing that Lando would be there for you, and that he would stay with you.

You spent all those years just wishing on something new, wondering where it all went wrong and where you went wrong. How all of this fits into the grand scheme of things in your endless dramatic cycle of your life.

The closure was here.

Lando kept holding onto you tightly.

“I promise.” He says, “For real this time.”

For real. 

Years of unfinished stories and failing to find closure in yourself and here it was, presenting itself in the open. You hug him back, and sob softly. You couldn’t care less about what anyone else passing by was thinking. This was just about you and Lando.

“I think we should go somewhere.” You say.

He looks at you and he knows.

—

You sat on the ground next to him, the wooden base of the slide had been repainted. He leaned against you. 

Those years which felt magnified because of your unhealed wounds suddenly felt so small. Only there to serve as a point in time to bring both of you closer to each other.

“I found no one. It was lonely out there.” Lando admits, “No one came close, I was always trying to find something new, something fresh, but everything led me back to…”

He fiddles with his necklace.

“You.”

You feel everything coming into place, like the grey skies overlooking your life were finally moving over, letting the sun peek out from behind them. You closed your eyes and looked up into the sky. 

This was it. This was everything. This was all you asked for.

Your recurring nightmare became insignificant. It didn’t scare you anymore.

You shifted yourself so you were lying on the floor, which was probably dirty but it didn’t matter. Lando positioned his head so it was laying on your chest, so he felt the restful rise and fall of your breathing, and you felt… at peace, for once.

“I’ve been waiting...” You say, unable to finish your sentence as your voice cracks.

“And I won’t let you go, ever again.” 

— — —

And he was right. He never let go.

You and Lando spent the weekend, which felt like forever, to fix it. Lando spent it all to fix every scar, heal every wound and nurse every bruise he ever inflicted. He held onto you and never dropped you once, keeping his promise.

Lando took you out the whole weekend, rediscovering your stories, and your childhood. He kept you close, never leaving you. He rewrote the haunting past, making sure he never messed up this time.

The once unfinished chapter that stood high above you, the once daunting task was now closing, the final line was being written in the darkness of the years left alone. The emotional baggage was dropped in the past and the pages of your story stopped burning up. 

Lando was here now.

You brought him out in the evening, taking him to his favourite spot, by the edge of a hill overlooking the city. You sat there with him, holding some Chinese takeout.

“You forgive me?” He asks.

“Yes.” You reply, “I do.”

“I…” Lando hesitates, “Yea… that’s great.” His voice is unusually soft.

“You know…” You inhale and exhale deeply, “I remember the night after I realised you weren’t going to text back.”

Lando stiffens up, “Sorry.” He mutters.

“It’s okay now…” You say before continuing, “I went to the playground and stood there while it rained, and wondered what I did wrong.”

You don’t know whether right now was a good time for this but you started so you had to finish.

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong.” Lando says as he looks into your eyes, “It was all me who messed up.”

You pat his shoulder.

“Yea… but back then, I felt like I didn’t hold onto you enough, didn’t work hard enough for you to stay. So… that was it for me.” You admit, “I wasn’t ready to lose you so I cried that night, alone.”

You feel Lando’s guilt from a mile away.

“But-” You lean backward, supporting yourself with your elbows, “today, when we went to the playground, I think we fixed that.”

Lando’s face brightens up as he lifts his head. He fixed something.

“I think… you…” You couldn’t find the words, “You’re back.”

“I am.” Lando says, “And I’ll fix it all.”

In the night sky, you laid down next to him, on the ground. The hurting stopped, all that stopped today, in that playground where you two grew up, where you went to all those dark days, and where you left all the emotional baggage.

The skies illuminated the sky and reflected off Lando’s eyes. It was beautiful, he was beautiful. Under the bright sky and the night breeze, Lando was at peace with himself. So were you.

You scooted closer to him and he laid his head in your embrace, both of you laid in the grass. And right there was where everything felt alright, like nothing would change again. Just like when they were children.

Just like last time.

“I love you.”

—

The time had to come eventually. You were back at the airport.

You hugged him tightly once again, this moment felt no better than the last. The hug is laced with rewritten years of friendships and the closure of every dark page in your stories, to be happier, to be better. It was for everything and every minute you two lost now filled in with the memories of this weekend. This closure. He sobs on your shoulder, he never wants to let go.

But he has to. Both of you take a step back. 

“If it helps you.” You say, “You fixed it.”

Lando wipes the tears away, giving you one of the purest smiles you think you’ll ever see in your life.

“And for you…” He says, “You’ll always be here.” He points to his heart.

“I’ll never let you hurt again.”

You smile, embracing him again.

As he’s about to leave, you take the necklace off and hand it to him. He look at it, and hastily takes his one off, swapping your necklaces.

“To rewritten love.” You say.

He nods and puts the necklace on. 

“I’ll see you around.” His voice cracks a little.

“Promise?”

He tears up again, “Yes… Yes I promise.”

You look at his sparkly brown-blue eyes again, coming to peace with everything. As he enters the boarding gates, he looks back at you again, smiling slightly at you as he waves. You wave back, holding onto the necklace again.

He walks off, disappearing into the crowd once again but it doesn’t feel empty this time. It’s closure, it’s settlement, it’s resolution. You watch his plane take off, hearing the roar of the engine before it fades into nothing.

It was a promise.

A promise that you would keep, even as you moved out of this city, to another place. A promise that he would keep even as he reached greater heights.

Because a promise was made and a promise will be kept.

END.

i hope this hit expectations, i dont think there will be a part 3 lol

[the-smart-house]

Say, Hermione, you’re a girl? (Pluck up the courage and ask!)

867 Words

(A/N: Warning, I stayed up way too late writing this and it's probably rushed.)

Hermione Granger, Minister of Magic, sits at her desk, well, it’s not hers, but it’s as good as. She’s never been one to be picky about working environments. Maybe she would’ve been in her school days, but ever since living in a tent for months, it hardly mattered. And, of course, she was given a spare office at Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonagall was more than happy to accommodate her.

Now she reads over important documents (she’d needed an enlarged suitcase to bring them all with her), deciding whether or not to allow her enchanted quill to sign them. Hogwarts is once again holding host to the TriWizard Tournament after it took another short hiatus, and she’d spent the past week busy preparing for the first task, so the papers stand in piles too high for her to see over. 

She glances over at the blue velvet envelope on the corner of her desk. A letter of gratitude from the Headmaster of Beauxbatons for organizing the event, especially after all the trouble was caused last time. The envelope is beautiful, with embroidery work, and a metal butterfly as the seal. The enchanted thing flits about the room, landing every so often.

Between one line of legalese and the next and knocking at her door breaks her concentration.

“Who is it?”

There’s a security charm around the office, to prevent curious or lost students from distracting her by wandering in, so she knows whoever it is must have already been approved by the wards. She isn’t scared so much as confused. It’s late, everyone else should’ve gone to sleep by now. In fact, she should be asleep.

“Ronald.” Her husband answers.

“Oh, well, come in.” She laughs. “You know you don’t have to ask.”

He comes in, holding a bouquet of flowers, all varying shades of blue. He looks nervous, but Hermione can’t think of why he would be.

“Ron, is that a peacock feather?” She asks, gesturing to the bouquet’s decoration.

“Oh, yeah. Mal- I mean Potter, gave it to me when I was stocking up on potions from the Apothecary. He said and I quote he ‘was happy to pull a feather from one of those pompous bastards.’”

Hermione snorts, “My, he really does hate those peacocks, doesn’t he? I wonder why?” 

“Yeah, I wonder.” Ron agrees.

But they both know why. The Malfoy peacocks belonged to Lucius.

“So, what’s the bouquet for, anyway?”

“Do I need an occasion?” Ron asks, sitting himself on the edge of her desk.

Hermione smiles, “No, but to get here you’d have had to appear into Hogsmeade, then take a carriage up to school. Besides, I know you’ve been busy at work. It’s quite a lot of effort to make just for flowers.”

“Well, you’re worth it . . . but actually.” He blushes. It reminds Hermione of their school days, Ron’s hardly ever embarrassed now. “It’s more important than that.”

“Oh.” She teases, leaning towards him.

He bites his lip, “Well, it’s about something you said to me 20 years ago. And I know I don’t say it, I don’t think we need to, normally, but I do still feel rotten about it, so I thought I would go and do it right this time.”

She cocks her head, thinking. 

‘20 years ago? Well, that would have been 4th year. I said loads of things that year. Is this about the tournament? I’ve told him it’s perfectly safe. He knows that. He didn’t seem worried about it. Is this about SPEW maybe?’

“Ronald, what’s this about?” She’s a little concerned.

He stands up, facing her, a look of determination on his face, “Hermione Jean Granger-Weasley, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

It’s one of the Minister of Magic’s duties to attend the Yule Ball of the Triwizard Tournament when it’s hosted in their country, of course, she was going.

She can only stare for a moment. Suddenly she’s not sure whether to giggle or cry. He waits patiently, holding out the flowers.

She ends up doing a bit of both “Oh, Ronald . . . well . . . you’re quite a bit early. Obviously, I’m going with you. Who else would I go with?” She stands up, getting on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“Oh well, you know, just making sure.” He jokes when they break apart.

“Yeah.” She hugs him again, holding him tightly, memories of the last tournament flashing through her mind. “I’m glad it wasn’t you, Ron.”

He nods. It pays to be just a sidekick sometimes. Hermione doesn’t think she could love someone who was always running from death. Ron is safe, and she loves him more than anything.

“I wished I’d just asked you back then, blimey I really was thick back then.”

Hermione shakes her head, “Eh, you just weren’t ready, but we are now . . . and you have real dress robes.”

“Oh, Merlin, don’t remind me. I’m so glad there weren’t photos.” A wicked grin corset shi face, “You know, Hugo is too young, but we could send them to Louis.”

“Ronald, nO. Flour would kill us, or just you.”

“Oh come on, just as a joke. You know Bill will agree with me.”

“Hmm, maybe. Let’s go home and see if we can even find those blasted things.”

“Okay, let’s go home.”

With another kiss, the two are off.

[frances-baby-houseman]

One more thing about my fil and then I promise I’ll stop (I def won’t) that I think is a perfect example of EVERYTHING HE DOES-

He came to meet us at the airport! Nice! We have two very small kids and a 76 year old woman with us as well as 2 car seats and 9 days worth of luggage. He does not help schlep anything.

He’s going to find us a taxi. He goes to one taxi stand. It’s $629. Too much. He goes to the next: $629.

He starts harassing a different cab lady and says he did it and motions for us to come to one end of the cab area. We and the kids and the old lady and the luggage and the car seats get there. Nevermind. He wanders off to the other end of the taxi area to haggle with a different cab lady. He says he did it. Motions us and the kids and the lady and the luggage and the car seats all the way to the other end of arrivals.

We are now waiting for the car he’s negotiated. 5 min pass. 10. I’m saying this whole time I do not care I just want to get out of there it’s hot and everyone is smoking. He’s ADAMANT. He has found us a $500 taxi!! We just have to wait!!

Finally I scream, and I’m not kidding, “SUNK COST FALLACY!!” And I find a nice cab driver and load up the lady and the kids and the luggage and the car seats.

The key here is that these are all pesos and the difference between 500 and 629(the flat rate to the hotel zone) is approx SEVEN DOLLARS. I did not spent $4000 American dollars on flights here to haggle over a $7 cab fare difference!!

Then he says we better pay first and get a receipt or the cab will charge us double. I did not do this. Puerto Vallarta is a normal place and the cabs have to pay and make change to get out of the airport. It’s a SYSTEM.

Anyway hashem beer me strength to make it through this week.

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Three, Part 1

It was well past one in the afternoon when I finally woke up. It was Sunday, which happened to be my main day off. I was technically off Tuesdays too, but a lot of times I went in and did inventory and other stuff that pertains to the kitchen, but just doesn't really ever seem to get done.

I stretched in my bed. That kind of satisfying stretches that seems to pull apart your limbs. My pack of cigarettes lay on the floor next to my laptop. I grabbed the half-empty pack and headed out the front door.

I lit a cigarette and sank into the couch. It was nice out. Warm and sunny with long wispy clouds that looked like strands of spider web. Riverwest was awake and in full motion. On days like this, it was awake all day. I really didn't see that many cars drive down my street, but the sidewalks were a different story. People walked, some holding hands, some holding leashes. Joggers and runners made there way in between the people, zigzagging though. Sometimes, I just sat on the porch all day and watched it happen. Even after having living in the city this long, somethings still struck me with awe.

Once my cigarette ended up burning my finger, because I wasn't paying attention, I tossed it into the coffee can and headed inside, figuring out what to do. Since I really had today off, I liked to find something rather than just sit in my room all day. I may not have been social, but I would still go out and do things. I just did them alone. I was always that quiet guy at the end of the bar, by himself, as some punk band plays on a half-built stage.

I sat down on my mattress and leaned against the wall behind me. I grabbed my laptop and loaded up Facebook, searching to see if there was anything going on in the Riverwest area. I found something right away, a punk bar/club was hosting a show tonight. I liked the place it was at, Dimes. I didn't recognize any of the bands, but that never bothered me. I'll support local music until the day I die. Doors open at six and the first of three bands goes on at seven. I had plenty of time before it began.

The notification sound scared me and a message popped up on my screen.

CHAD: What's up?

CHRIS: Not much, just woke up.

CHAD: Sunday. Sounds about right.

CHRIS: Haha. What's going on with you?

CHAD: Waiting for Amy to get here.

Amy was this really cool death metal, hippy, stoner chick. When I lived in Oconomowoc she was the unofficial third party to me and Chad. We spent plenty of nights, closing the bar only to find ourselves at someone's apartment, drinking more. Chad had developed feelings for her during that period, and it had always seemed like it wasn't one-sided. Another one of those stupid will they, won't they situation.

CHRIS: Oh cool. Tell her I say hi. How are things going with that?

CHAD: Same. Confusing. Frustrating.

CHRIS: Aren't you guys with each other every day anyway?

CHAD: Yeah, pretty much. We see each other every day. We're always doing shit together. And I still don't know what the fuck we are.

CHRIS: That sucks. I mean you guys are basically dating.

CHAD: Yeah, I guess. How's things going with Addison?

CHRIS: She accepted my friend request.

CHAD: That's all you've got? Dude, you need to call her.

CHRIS: I haven't had time.

CHAD: Then send her a fucking message. Something. Talk to her. Call her today. No excuses. Do it. God, you're dumb. This is good for you.

CHRIS: Or really fucking bad.

[twilightmalachite]

Machina - Test World 2

Author: Kino Seitaro (with Akira)

Characters: Mika, Sora, Makoto

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Cryptocurrency? Digital… money?"

Season: Winter

Location: Information Room

Sora: Sora’s here to play, Yuuki-sense~!

Makoto: Harukawa-kun? I thought you were gonna play outside today.

Sora: HaHa~, Sora did also play with a kite at first!

But today he ran into Mika-chan-san, so he changed his mind~♪

Makoto: “Mika-chan-san”…? Are you talking about Kagehira-kun?

Mika: Nnah, umm…

Makoto: Ahaha, so you were hiding behind the door, Kagehira-kun. Feel free to come on inside, okay?

Sora: Is Mika-chan-san shy? Don’t sorry, Yuuki-sense~ is a very kind person~! ♪

Mika: Nna, that’s not really it… I’m also antiquated with Mako-kun.

I’m not necessarily shy… Nah, it’s really not that at all.

I was jus’ nervous if it was really okay to enter such a big security room like this, really.

I imaged an intelligence room’d be fulla specialized stuff like delicate equipment an’ personal infos, so I was thinkin’ about what if I accidentally broke somethin’…

Makoto: Well, there are quite a bit of wires and stuff around here.

But it’s strong enough that they won’t break if you accidentally step on them. Don’t worry, come and sit down.

Mika: Thank ya kindly. Then, I’ll go an’ take a seat next to you.

So, did’ja also help make this Test World, Mako-kun? Are you involved ‘cuz yer good at games, or somethin’?

Makoto: Yeah, something like that.

I used to be a member of the gaming club, so I was asked by Switch to be a test player.

The Test World is a newly created and hectic place, so they’re trying to get as many gamers as possible to play and help develop the community, y’see.

Sora: Yes! Sora can confidently leave it up to a gamer like Yuuki-sense~!

He spent winter break with Sora immersed in the Test World~! ♪

Makoto: It’s more of a volunteer work thing. But thanks to it, I wasn’t bored at all this winter break!

Anyways. The sun will set before we know if it we just talk.

Let put on the VR goggles and enter the Test World.

Sora: That’s right! Let’s go log in, then!

Use the spare goggles here, Mika-chan-san! ♪

Mika: Ah, okay. Gotcha.

How’m I supposed to wear this, umm…

Mika: !?

Nnah, where am I?! Saison Avenue!?

Mika: Hah, hah… So this is VR now, huh?

Sora: Yes, it is, but… Is something wrong with the goggles?

Mika: No, nothing like that, just… It was so realistic I got surprised, ‘cuz it was a familiar place unlike last time I did SSVRS.

Sora: HiHi~, Sora’s glad it was effective right away! ♪

SSVRS is worked on day and night, so the 3D models are much more precise now~!

In detail, the number of polygons haven’t increased, but rather the goggles have been revised, that way it feels more comfortable and there’s no load on the server~!

Makoto: It’s gotten pretty technologically advanced, hasn’t it? SSVRS’ evolution surprised me too!

So I’m having a lot of fun thanks to that… But really, I want people who don’t usually play games to give it a try.

Kagehira-kun, I’ll be joining you soon at Saison Avenue in SSVRS, so can you put your goggles back on and wait for me?

Mika: Mhm. Sorry ‘bout the fuss, lemme go on back…

Mika: …There we go. How’s that?

Sora: HuHu~♪ It was perfect, Mika-chan-san!

Let’s start off by walking around the virtual world. There’s a lotta shops in this town inspired by Saison Avenue~! ♪

Mika: Whoa… The shops here look jus’ like the real world, but they sell different things.

Trendy clothes and accessories, and furniture too, huh... Oh, and there’s yuru-charas!

Amazing… And all of this was made for VR.

Sora-kun, what’s this VL$ written here mean? Is it different than the L$ we have…?

Sora: Ah, Mika-chan-san has a keen eye! That’s VL$, virtual L dollar… A cryptocurrency that can be exchanged for real money!

Mika: Cryptocurrency?

Sora: Yup! Digital money linked to the real world~!

Mika: Digital… money?

I guess I don’t really get it… What’s the difference between that and real money?

Makoto: Money in the real world is issued by a country and is built on the trust of the country, right? Cryptocurrencies are issued in games and virtual worlds.

…Sorry for interrupting the convo. You guys were talking about something interesting, so I ended up chiming in without a greeting.

Cryptocurrencies are complicated, but in simple terms, it’s like a system where you can exchange in-game money for real-world money.

Since its value isn’t stable and has the disadvantage of crashing like stock prices, SSVRS is keeping it Test World-only as a precaution.

…Right, Harukawa-kun?

Sora: Nice assist, Yuuki-sense~!

Basically, only sales from products sold in Test World stores can be turned into VL$ and used in the real world.

The test players are super active because of that~ They’re creating tons of digital art!

And, if you use a 3D printer, you can even print the things you make in real life! So Mika-chan-san can make lots of things to play with too~! ♪

Mika: Makin’ digital art and making it real… I see. I feel like I’ll be able to keep my promise to Oshi-san then ♪

Alright, I’m motivated to create somethin’ too! Lemme try to make somethin’ in the Test World!

If I can sell it, exchange it for real world money and add it to Valkyrie’s budget, I’m sure Oshi-san will be pleased too. ♪

I’m killin’ two birds with one stone with this. Thank you fer the lesson, Sora-kun, Mako-kun! ♪

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[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Pedantic, chapter three - a Malevolent AU

Arthur Lester is the best IT architect in the world, and the reason Carcosa, Inc. has its fingers in every pie. Government, medical, everyone in the world uses its systems. Arthur is also going blind and nearly gives up… until a deeply annoying cybersecurity programmer prods him into trying something new.

Chapter Three: The choice is made. What does Arthur have to lose? (The answer is his heart.)

AO3

----------

John Doe began sending images around four in the afternoon.

Arthur checked. That meant John was goofing around at two in the morning his time.

The first was a sticker depicting a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Beneath it were the words, Licensed to bear small arms.

Arthur snorted his coffee as Cassilda described it to him. When recovered, he said, “Doe, what the hell?”

No Doe here. That name went out with the dinosaurs.

“It’s your name, idiot. Are you saying you’re old and extinct?”

Maybe I’ve got big teeth and little children love me.

Arthur laughed again. “That can come across all kinds of wrong.”

I’ll give you wrong. A pause, followed by a second text. That made more sense in my head.

“It’s two in the morning, you whacko. Why are you up?”

Waiting for you, princess. Also, Baldur’s Gate 12 is addicting.

“Excuses, excuses.”

John sent a picture of a cat.

It is a young Siamese cat, Cassilda said. Less than a year old. It stares up at the camera with an expectant look, sitting primly, tail wrapped around its feet. Beside it is a human leg in pajama bottoms, wearing a fuzzy slipper.

“Who’s this?” said Arthur.

Guy. She’s my buddy.

“She?”

I fostered. I’d say, “Hi, guys,” every time I came home, and this one got too used to it.

“I see. Doomed. You had to keep her.”

She kept me.

There was no reason for Arthur to know this reply was different from the others, like there was more to this than mere words said.

But there was. This had mattered in some big way.

He tried to shake it off. “I haven’t had time for pets. I get so focused on my work… they’d starve, or something.”

You just need a partner to share the load, is all.

Right.

Right.

There were a few ways to take that, and Arthur doubted all of them.

He let it go.

So John sent another photo. This one was a glorious setup; two meter-wide monitors, multiple keyboards, and ample desk space for the numerous snacks and drinks arranged as if in front of six stations.

One chair. It was spun to face the camera, as if whoever had been sitting in it hopped up just to take a pic.

“What’s this?” said Arthur.

Where the magic happens, baby.

Arthur smiled, considering his own absolutely ascetic layout. “Why multiple snack stations?”

Because I have numerous systems running, taking up a portion of the screen. I slide between them, and they require different flavors.

Arthur laughed. “They what?”

That system we’re customizing for the fucking Migo? That’s spicy.

Arthur did not like them. They didn’t trust his ability to make things just work, and kept making requests that complicated the system for users. “I agree.”

The Yithian delegation is a challenge, but I like them, so they get barbecue chips.

“Oddly specific.”

Their biggest challenge is older tech. I like making them able to go toe to toe with the assholes in spite of it.

“I like that, too. You’ll have to show me how you’re getting around their iCore B11 chips.”

Sure. Anyway, enough about me. Decided?

Arthur fell silent.

He walked to his window, looking out. He could almost see the view from this office; or maybe he’d just spent so much time here that his mind overlayed memories—the tree-filled hill falling away, Melbourne stretching out below, the smaller stone bastion where his own home sat gleaming in the fading sunlight.

He held onto the memory, staring at blurs.

His feed dinged. Parker’d sent a message.

“Hold that thought,” he said to John Doe, and sat down to hear Cassilda read it out.

#

Well. It was a thing.

Arthur called. “Are you fucking serious?”

“When you said he came out of nowhere a year ago, I didn’t think you were literal,” said Parker, amused. “But yeah, I’m serious. Social security number issued last year. Birth certificate not found. No known schools. Not so much as a photo in a yearbook. He’s a ghost.”

“That can’t be,” said Arthur. “Carcosa would never hire someone suspicious, never mind put them in charge of security.”

“Well, Hastur de Amarillo did. And you’re gonna love this part: there’s no record of an application.”

Arthur hesitated for all of one second. “Hold on.” He had Cassilda open his system in the back end.

He had his own back doors. It wasn’t really legal, but Arthur had access to everything simply because it was his baby and he had to in order to fix things or tweak them.

This was worth doing himself, without help. Squinting, close to the screen, he took the mouse in hand and navigated.

John Doe’s employment began one year and two months ago. There was his address (wait… already in Manhattan?), his income (nice), and… that was it.

No interview. No notes. No contacts. No medical contacts or work history. No references. No resume.

He really had sprung from Hastur’s head fully formed, apparently.

“Nothing?” said Arthur.

“Nothing. Whoever he was before your boss hired him has been hidden so well that I can’t dig a fucking thing up. I don’t know what this guy is hiding, Arthur, but this unnerves me.”

It unnerved Arthur, too. John Doe might have the skill to cover his tracks, but it felt impossible to be that good in this day and age.

John had been smart enough not to invent a past. That would’ve been seen through immediately. Instead, he just… didn’t exist. How many systems would he have had to hack? This was upsetting.

“Thanks, Parker,” said Arthur.

“I’ll keep looking, but… he’s hiding something big. People can’t hide themselves this much and still get jobs.”

Arthur knew the answer was to ask Hastur. He didn’t want to ask Hastur. He didn’t want to have to answer Why do you want to know?

He sighed.

“You okay there?” said Parker.

“It’s just complicated.” The implications of being able to do this were staggering. John Doe…

John Doe was a dangerous man.

“Fuck,” said Arthur.

“Use a condom,” said Parker, knowing damn well that would pull him out of his funk.

Arthur laughed. “Goon.”

“Right. I’ll let you know what else I find.”

“Thanks.” Arthur sighed. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Arthur had no idea what the hell to do now.

#

Arthur liked to celebrate a successful launch. He didn’t like to do it alone.

In his twenties, he’d spent a lot of time in the local nightlife, just in the company of strangers, enjoying some booze, the laughter, the dancing.

He hadn’t done that in a few years. It was too scary when he couldn’t really see what was going on.

He sipped his champagne, anyway, mulling. Maybe it was the booze on an empty stomach, but he knew what to do. “Text John. All right, asshole, I’ll take your bet, but you won’t like what I demand when you lose.”

All right! What, you want me to mail you my balls or something?

It was definitely the booze. “No. You’re going to tell me who the fuck you really are and how you hid yourself so well.”

Silence for a long moment, which Arthur could have predicted. It was a rude thing to say, and possibly illegal, and showed he’d been looking into John.

None of which he cared about right now. He tried to refill his glass and realized he’d drunk the whole bottle. When had that happened?

Deal.

Wait, what was?

Well. This just got interesting. “Good. We start tomorrow.”

Good.

It was the most succinct John had ever been. Arthur suddenly felt bad and took a picture of his empty champagne bottle. “To celebrate our new relationship,” he said.

A beat. Maybe he’d pushed too far. Maybe he’d busted this relationship before it even got started. Maybe—

I can drink you under the table, said John, and Arthur knew they were okay. Sleep it off. Wow me tomorrow.

“I will,” said Arthur, far more petulantly than he was proud of, and was grateful text did not portray.

He didn’t remember falling asleep on his couch, but he sure did, and dreamed of programming all night.

------

CHAPTER FOUR

[mistyshadow0]

A Return, or a New Beginning?

Part 1 (Previous)Part 3 (Next)

This is Part 2 of my first SAGAU fic, enjoy!

Genshin Impact has always been a comfort for you. The game itself is amazing, with fantastic characters, a great story, and with new content almost always coming out. There is always something new to do, somewhere new to explore, or someone new to meet. Even in the lulls between updates, there is always more you can do. Whether it be farming for artifacts, trying the abyss, or working on your Serenitea pot, everything always seems so intriguing.

Even though you happen to be a free to play player, you still manage to get fairly lucky with your pulls and simply enjoy whenever a new character comes your way. You love the experience of exploring Teyvat, meeting new characters, and building them up to be strong. However, the story quests are by far your favorite, where you get to help Aether in his journey and learn so many new things about Teyvat! To you, there is just so much to love about Teyvat and its occupants. However sometimes, because of your deep interest, you forget that you need to live in the real world.

The real world is exhausting though...

The thought runs across your mind as you finally get back to your small, dingy, and overpriced apartment, groceries in hand. You had spent far too long playing that day and nearly forgot that you had eaten the last of your food and needed to go out and get some more.

The simple task of getting groceries had exhausted you. There were far too many people bustling around and the grocery store had been packed, not to mention they had been out of your favorite snacks. Putting away the food, your mind drifts back to Genshin. You want to try and farm for artifacts tonight to prepare for a new five-star, seeing as you had seen a rumor that Kazuha was about to have a rerun, and you hadn’t managed to pull him on his first banner.

You thought about what you would need to try and get. While you weren’t the best at picking good artifacts, you had enough base knowledge to get relatively good damage, and hey, you can always look online for guides on what works best.

You hummed the familiar opening tune as you worked to put everything you had bought away, and got excited at the possibility of adding a new character to your collection.

I wonder what my team would look like if I managed to pull him? I would probably have to switch a few characters around for it to work… I wonder if I can put him and Albedo on the same team and have it work out… I’ll have to check some guides later.

Finally finished and re-energized at the thought of pulling a new five-star, you moved swiftly back to your computer and started it up, excited to get started. After only a minute, the usual loading screen was up and ready to go.

You pressed to start the game.

…

Nothing.

You pressed again, and waited.

… Nothing.

Deciding to take a ‘have you turned it off and on again’ approach, you exited out of the game, and decided to try just one more time.

Maybe it’s a bug? If it is, maybe Mihoyo will give us primogems for it!

This time as you exited out of the game and tried to enter again, all you could see was a black screen. No ‘Start Game’ anywhere, and the usual background was nowhere to be seen.

“What the hell..?” You exhaled.

Oh come on! What am I going to do now?

You pressed your head down on the desk you were sitting at and groaned in frustration.

Well, maybe it will be fixed tomorrow, I should probably go to sleep anyway.

You looked at the time, 11:00.

Yikes, I guess getting groceries took longer than I thought. I guess I have to go to sleep then…

A tired yawn slipped out of your mouth and you pressed the button to turn the computer off. Getting ready for bed only took a little while and soon enough you were wrapping yourself in blankets.Thoughts of Teyvat, primogems, five-stars, and the strange bug eventually quieted from your mind as you slowly drifted off to sleep.You were far too deep in sleep to notice when your screen started glowing a bright and shining gold. You were completely unaware as your pillow began feeling like less of a pillow and more like a soft bed of grass. Likewise, you were far too sound asleep to realize that your blankets had faded into nothing, and that all you could feel was a calm, warm breeze brushing across the parts of you not covered by pajamas. By the time you woke up and did notice the differences, it was far too late.

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

Mondstadt and Liyue were in crisis, with Inazuma close behind.

The acolytes could feel when the divine presence they often felt guiding their actions all of a sudden left. Yes, the presence would strengthen and fade sometimes, but after the moment they were first blessed with the Divine Creator’s attention, that feeling was always there, no matter how faint.

Now, however, it had completely disappeared.

In Mondstadt, Acting Grand Master Jean had arranged a meeting of all the known acolytes in Mond as well as a few important figures and a certain stray bard. She had immediately noticed when the faint presence she had felt for so long disappeared. She had never felt the presence as strongly as many others had, but she had been one of the first the Divine Creator had blessed, and that was enough for her. She slammed her hand on the table they occupied within the Knights of Favonius building to quiet the frantic and panicked noise coming from the small crowd they had collected.

“Quiet! … Thank you. I have brought you here today because we need to discuss the Divine Creator and how their presence has disappeared from all of the acolytes. What do we know? Has this happened everywhere or is it specific to Mondstadt?”

With this, Kaeya stepped forth from where he had previously been leaning against the wall, looking unusually serious.

“We’ve gotten confirmation that this is happening in Liyue too, but the other countries are too far away for us to get notice this quickly. We’ve only learned as much as we have because another acolyte named Xiangling happened to be in Dragonspine. She ran into Albedo and told him.” He nodded to Albedo, who sat at the far end of the table and looked particularly disturbed compared to his usual neutral expression.

“I’ll put in a word with my network, they’ll be able to inquire about the other countries faster than you Knights” Diluc spit out half-heartedly. He had always been one of the most devoted in Mondstadt, and he had sponsored the creation of many statues and shrines. Yet, he had never been blessed as Jean, Kaeya, and even that outrider Knight Amber, had been.

And now it may be too late, he worried.

“Thank you Diluc.” Jean sighed. “Does anyone have any idea what the cause of the Creator’s disappearance could be?”

A small creak sounded from just outside the door, where a small Klee revealed herself. Everyone turned to listen in surprise as the smallest Knight of Favonius spoke.

“Maybe the Creator is sleepy? Or,” she gasped, “do you think the Creator wants to come play with us? Maybe that’s why they’re not with everyone as a ghost anymore, so they can come play for real! Just like what happens in that story big brother Albedo told me, from the special book!”

Whispers spread throughout the room.

“A child was allowed to read out of the Sacred Texts?”

“-But she’s so young!”

“Even I have never been allowed near them!”

Klee ran over to Albedo and looked up in anticipation of his response to her, in her mind, very sound and science-y theory. All the while Jean sighed. She had tried to leave Klee out of this, but as an acolyte she couldn’t exactly stop Klee from being involved. Ever since she had been blessed, Klee had felt the Divine’s presence quite strongly, just as Albedo had.

“While Klee’s idea has some merit…” Albedo took a glance at Klee and then focused his gaze on the rest of the group as everyone quieted back down, “There is more than just one possibility. For all we know something may have happened to the Creator, or they simply no longer wish to be connected to us, or,” he paused for a moment and then continued, sounding incredulous, “… or Klee could be correct and the lack of Divine presence in us acolytes may be an indication that we are living in a time when the Creator is ready to journey back to Teyvat in physical form.” With this, the room exploded. People were shouting about preparations and worrying if the Creator had died or was gone for good until Jean brought order back to the group.

“Calm down everyone! Just as Albedo said, there is more than one possibility, we do not know anything for sure…”

All of a sudden, the bard Venti, who had been sitting off to the side seemingly lost in his own thoughts, startled and whipped his head around to face one of the stone walls.

“Venti? What is it? What’s wrong?” Jean inquired, looking very seriously at him, to the confusion of many others in the room.

He stared at the wall for a moment longer before he turned to look at her with a serious, shocked look on his face. His voice came out in a quivering whisper.

“She’s right…The Creator has come to Teyvat. I can feel it. They’re here…” He trailed off and looked back at the wall, eyes with a glazed over look to them and mouth hanging open in shock.

The room went quiet, and then exploded with noise and movement.

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

Across Teyvat, six other heads simultaneously whipped around in the same direction as that of the Anemo Archon. Four of those individuals turned their heads back, brushing the strange sensation off as nothing. Two however, the Archons of Geo and Electro, payed attention. They waited. They thought. And then they called for preparations to be made.

This is a time of celebration after all. It was time for their sacred duty to finally be fulfilled after so many years.

The Creator has come to Teyvat. They must prepare and rejoice, for their Divine Creator has blessed them all with their presence once more.

[ssplague]

Alpha Bakugou & his late blooming Omega girlfriend 🌬🥀

PART TWO

Honorable mentions: @jazzylove @bakugoismisunderstood @koreylive

Okay since so many of you seemed to really enjoy this “Just thinking about”, I’m turning it into a short story. I’m thinking it will have four parts all together (including the original post). So I know I’d said that I’d give you a nice big dose of Scumbag Suki this update, buuuut that was before I knew this was going to take off like it did 🙈 The next one is entirely his POV so you’ll get your fill then!

Part 3

🌌✨🌠

“Suki, did you really have to be that harsh towards Izuku when we left the playground earlier? I know you dislike him now but….”

You trail off as you get settled on the plush, blanket lined floor of the small tent you and Bakugou had set up in your backyard. Supposedly there was going to be “A shit load of shooting stars tonight!” acording to one of your classmates. You were excited and insisted on staying up to watch, and as usual, Katsuki inserts himself into any and everything you do. Therefore; The two of you had rushed home after school, asked both your mothers and pleaded to spend the night together out in the yard. Deciding that you two were still at the age where anything other than star gazing was unlikely to happen, they allowed it.

Battery operated fairy lights were strung along the roof of the tent and a small lantern illuminated the center, giving the inside a pink and orange glow.

“Hah?! No way was I about to let stupid Deku come and ruin OUR sleep over! This is for me and you ________, no one else….just…us” a light breeze blew in through the open tent flap and treated Katsuki to be briefly overcome by your scent.

The two of you had your scent glands come in around the same time and still weren’t entirely used to it just yet. All both of you knew is that you favored each other’s scents over anyone else’s. It was kind of getting embarrassing how much you were beginning to enjoy your temperamental best friend’s spiced caramel aroma. So much so you had to make a conscious effort not to lean into him and sniff at his neck from time to time. He was subtle about it, but certainly didn’t mind bumping into or brushing up against you more often than ever to get a whiff of your intoxicating fragrance. Even getting hit with a face full just now had his brain feeling sluggish as beads of sweat began forming along his hairline.

A voice inside his head started incessantly growling “touch her, touch her TOUCH HER”. Under the guise of getting comfortable he shifted his leg to rest up against yours and his mind quieted instantly.

“I….I know that Kat…I wouldn’t have invited him anyway!” Your face began to redden as you brazenly blurted out; “I like when it’s just you and I, we always have the most fun”.

He instantly perked up at hearing that, but he couldn’t help but ask; “So you like me better than him? You think I’m BETTER than him?”. Leaning into you as he waited for you to answer his question, eyes narrowed.

“You know I do! Besides….” You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned towards him and inhaled deeply “You smell so much better than him too!”.

Oh hell now you’d done it ________, you unknowingly opened the metaphoric Pandora’s box.

He didn’t speak right away, just smirked back at you and enjoyed the devious expression on your face. After another minute spent invading one another’s personal space you were first to snap out of it quickly muttering; “M’sorry Suki I..I dunno what happened I shouldn’t have got in your face like that!”. You sat back up and moved your leg so it was no longer touching his. Unable to comprehend the sudden feeling of sadness at the loss of contact, or attribute it to the fact that you were no longer touching him. Katsuki frowned immediately and scooted back against you, “S’okay princess…s’not like it’s a big deal”. His use of the familiar nickname only succeeding to fluster you further.

The next few moments were spent in silence.

Surprisingly, It was you that eventually broke it asking; “Suki do you know…d’you know what mates are?”. You immediately began to play with the cheap desk telescope you’d brought out to avoid looking at him, your heart was beating a lot faster now. The startled look on his face would have informed you that your question caught him off gaurd; Surely you hadn’t just had the same thought he did?! Well either that or you could read minds….that wasn’t very likely, thank god.

“Ah well my mom told me it’s when two people decide that they want to always be together and get sad if they are ever apart…so they live together….and then other stuff happens that damn brats don’t need to know just yet” he finished lamely, confused as to why he felt so strange reciting his mother’s words exactly as she’d originally said them.

“I get sad when we have to go inside our houses at night and stop playing together” you said, the depressed tone of voice sounded like it was happening right then. “Me too…I wish we lived together cause then you’d always be with me” he confessed shooting you a nervous glance. Your eyes lit up and you beamed at him when the idea suddenly struck; “We have to become mates now Katsuki, we have to!”. You got up on your knees and began frantically shuffling things around the tiny tent. “If we’re mates then our parents can’t tell us we have to stop playing and separate at night! We’ll always be able to stay together!” Your sporadic movement and sudden outburst immediately infected your companion with the same frantic energy, albeit nervous, but excited all the same as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“You’re right _________! That’s a great idea”

“I know!”

“So uh..umm how uh…how do we do that?”

You stop smoothing the blankets out to stare at Katsuki, “You don’t know how?”.

“No” he admits glumly.

You can’t hold back the distressed whimper that escapes you and Katsuki is immediately at your side trying to console you “Hey princess it’s alright-“. “NO!” you exclaim “We need to do this to stay together forever!”.

Then you remembered something; “I see my mom and dad do this every morning”. You roll up the sleeve of your jacket and bring your wrist up, simulating the motion of rubbing it across the scent gland on your neck. Katsuki nods his head in understanding; “Oh yeah, mine do the same thing! Let’s do that!”. He lays back and stretches his neck out, “You do me first and then I’ll do you kay?”.

“Kay”

You nod and smile down at him, shuffling towards his head and bringing your wrist up to his neck. You hold your breath as your skin makes contact with his and start lightly rubbing over his scent gland a few times.

“S-Shit” he says softly, squirming slightly.

“What?! Did I hurt you??!” You ask.

Fear immediately replacing excitement and distracting you from reprimanding him for uttering a curse word as you usually would.

“N-No it didn’t hurt…please d-do it again”

You do, continuing thoughtlessly as you become enthralled by his peaceful expression and relaxed as he starts purring.

“Your turn”

You take his spot laying down on the fluffy blanket strewn floor, shivering with anticipation and the slight chill in the night air. His touch warms you from the inside out and you gasp at the sudden sensation. Relaxing once more, you look up at him through heavily lidded eyes and return the smile he’s giving you.

Neither one of you has any idea that this situation is going to come with serious consequences.

Eventually you remember the whole reason you two had decided to camp out in the first place; “The shooting stars!” You cry sitting up and narrowly avoiding head butting the blonde boy above you. “Hey!” He snarls. You stand and open the window flap in the tents ceiling, just as you do you see the first “star” shoot across the sky. “Woah! Quick make a wish make a wish kat!”.

He won’t admit it…but he does, and so do you.

As more stars shoot across the sky the two of you lay together; Happily curled up in the blankets, snuggling up together. Occasionally one of you brings your wrist up and begins to rub the others neck lazily, while continuing to watch the dazzling light show taking place above you. Both of you end up falling asleep long before it’s over. The sound of Katsuki’s continuous purring, lulling you into the most comfortable sleep possible.

Well that, and how his natural warmth just seemed to consume you….

Warmth…so warm at times it could get uncomfortable.

Like right now…too close…too hot

Your eyes snap open and you take in your surroundings; This is your dorm room, you’re at school right now, safe. Your clothes and sheets are soaked through with sweat. Not just sweat apparently; After waking up more you realize your lower body feels disgustingly sticky. Then a tingling sensation begins at the tip of your toes, rapidly spreading up your legs until it reaches the special place between them. Then it’s like a literal fucking furnace has exploded down there! Not to mention the heavyweight that has now come to rest in your lower stomach as it begins to cramp.

“Ow! ow! Ow!”

You try to feel around the bed for your phone, you could call one of your friends to come help you.Friends….that’s right they all left for the weekend! Wait not all of them left, Katsuki! He’s still here! That’s right, you were supposed to go over to his room, last night? Is it already morning? Fuck who knows.

You start to cry when you can’t feel your phone nearby on the bed, you don’t wanna look for it.

You don’t wanna be alone either though….Your scared. His room is just down the hall it’s not too far away, maybe if you just take it slow you’ll make it. You force yourself to get up, not even caring that all you have on is a tiny pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra.

You bend down to grab your slides out from beneath the bed and slip them on your feet before moving forward.

One foot in front of the other.

Your hunched over, one arm wrapped around your stomach and sweat freely dribbling down your face, coating your chest, sliding down the valley between your breasts.

Jesus, I must look like fucking shit right now.

As you make it into the hallway and start your journey all you can think about is how badly you want to see Katsuki. He always makes everything better somehow; That smile he wears just for you makes your heart sing normally. Right now you just let out a pained keen at the thought. Your inner omega has always been quiet enough to ignore in the past, but now she’s practically screeching like a fucking banshee inside of your head.

Just one word, over & over & over again:

Alpha

Alpha!

ALPHAAA!!!

With each screech your primal urges and instincts had began overwhelming you. Eventually reaching a point where the lines between the two began to blur. Making you feel more like a wounded beast that’s gone absolutely feral, while slowly dragging yourself down the hallway.

Once you get about halfway down you start to smell the familiar scent that you’ve become so fond of. Only it’s so much stronger and….muskier? It’s intoxicating, and so potent, you need more! Somehow your legs are moving quicker thanks to this new desperation manIfesting. Once you finally reach his door you have to stop yourself from breaking it down; Frantically pounding on it instead, and now you’ve started crying, salivating, and you’re just a goddamn walking train wreck… Somehow you don’t care, your appearance doesn’t matter, you just need HIM right now.

When the door opens you stumble inside.

The sound of his voice quieting your shrieking omega as soon as it reaches your ears;

“Finally decided to show up? Was waiting all fuckin’ night for you and…hey what’s wrong? Oh shit…fuck”.

Fuck is very right.

[hotcoffeetransformation]

Jason swore loudly and had to resist the urge to throw his controller down, pissed that he kept dying cause of the game's stupid glitches (Also known as own mistakes). Still, he regained his composure, and smiled before saying

"Alright chat, we're gonna finish up this one and then we're gonna move on to another game. There should be a poll on top for what we do next"

Jason was a moderately successfully game streamer, averaging about 200 to 300 viewers a night, entirely based on his wit and skill. He knew for sure that they weren't coming for his looks, given his weedy, thin frame, overly pimpled face and large, nerdy glasses. Still, it was enough for him, and he was happy with the progress that he'd made.

As Jason got himself set up for the next game, he heard a shocking sound from above him. The victory theme from one of his favorite JRPGs was blaring through the speakers, and he came up, staring at the screen in shock. He knew what that sound meant. That meant someone had tipped him one thousand dollars, completely out of nowhere.

He looked in shock at the notification on the stream, seeing that it was from someone named JockBro69, with the simple message "Can't wait to get to know you better, cutie~"

Jason was completely stunned. Not only had someone actually redeemed the donation goal that he set as a joke (That being that whoever was stupid enough to tip 1000 dollars got to have a 15 minute private chat with him), it was also someone that he'd never seen in his chat before.

Thoroughly weirded out, but knowing that he had to honor his commitment, he sent the guy a quick private message.

"Dude, I don't know how to thank you enough! Guess I'll see ya pretty soon!"

With that, he sent the man his private zoom link, and said goodbye to the chat, who were still going wild over this turn of events, before pausing,the stream and hopping over to discord for the call.

Not two seconds after his stream stopped, he got a requested video call on discord from the guy, and he opened it up, giving a second for the video to load, but when it did, he was completely dumbfounded again. He was expecting the mysterious donator to be some fat, sweaty silicon valley nerd with too much and money on his hands, but instead what met him was possibly the hottest man he's ever seen, standing up and looking down at his webcam with a friendly expression.

"Fuck, bro! Its so good to finally fucking meet you, I've been such a big fan for a long time, and this is a really big deal for me~

The man had a deep, rumbling, pleasant voice, that shot straight down Jacob's spine and left him feeling strangely... inadequate. Like the fact that his voice wasn't as smooth or melodic as this guy's was his fault, and he should be ashamed of that fact. Still, this guy was pretty pleasant to look at, Jason had to admit. He wasn't gay, definitely not, but he could acknowledge when another guy simply looked good.

Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not entirely sure of what he should do or say. Still, this guy spent 1000 dollars on this meeting, so he had to try anyway.

"So, umm.... I see your username is jockbro69... What's your actual name thought? I don't think I've ever seen you in chat before..."

The other man actually laughed at this, before looking confused and saying

"What are you talking about bro? Its me, Ethan! I'm in your chat all the time! Man, I guess what they say about playing games so much is true, huh?"

At this statement, Jason actually went pale with shock. THIS was Ethan? This was the guy who's username used to be runningLink? Who was an active fan of the zelda series, constantly begged Jason to play them, and bemoaned the fact that no would date him? It just didn't seem right...

Still, Jason, ever the semi professional, continued on, pretending that he wasn't shocked at the news.

"Well, thanks for supporting me so much! Seriously, this means a lot to me... Ummm... so I guess tell me some of your favorite things about the channel then!"

The man laughed again, the sound coming out in a slow, dumb chuckle, before saying

"What's my favorite thing? Do I even have to say, bro? Its the amazing piece of eye candy I'm looking at right now. You're super hot, bro~"

At this, Jason was shocked, but he chuckled awkwardly while blushing, and said

"Really? I don't think I've ever heard a single person say that before. I guess I consider myself slightly below average..."

The guy looked confused at that, before pressing on

"Really, bro? You look super hot to me, you got those bright, blinding blue eyes that you can just get lost in~"

At this point, Jason knew the man was just messing with him. His eyes have always, and will always be a dark, muddy brown, hidden behind his massive frames. Jason was about to respond, when Ethan continued

"Yeah, and you got that super stylish haircut too, really makes you look super masculine~"

Now Jason was REALLY confused. The guy was right, he did always get complements on his eyes, the bright, shocking blue visible and striking even through his huge glasses. But his hair was always a long, unkempt greasy mess.

"Ethan, are you sure you're okay, you're not just seeing things? Cause I don't know what you're talking about"

Ethan ignored the comment, just continuing to press on

"And you've got that hot, manly face, with your strong jaw and amazing profile"

Jason was confused again. Sure, his stylish haircut did help him look much better, but his face had always been pretty androgynous, with hints of baby fat still present in his cheeks. Again, before he could interrupt, Ethan continued,

"And you've got that smooth smooth skin, that hot stubble, that sexy smirk of yours. You're the full package bro~"

Jason laughed at this. Ethan was clearly being way too complementary. Sure his face had a great shape to it, with strong cheekbones and a square jaw, but his skin was still acne marked as hell, his smile was crooked and awkward, and he'd never been able to grow any facial hair, no matter how much he tried.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about Ethan. Sure I've got some good features, but the overall package isn't much to write home about~"

Ethan smirked again, his eyes lighting up with humor, as if he knew something I didn't.

"Nah, bro, you're underselling yourself. Plus, you've got that body~"

"What about my body? I think its pretty average, though I guess I'm a bit on the skinny side..."

Jason looked down at himself, trying to contemplate what Ethan meant. Sure, he'd been blessed with an attractive, manly face, but it didn't change the fact that his body was still below average at best.

"Again, bro! Putting yourself down. You really think those massive logs you have for arms are below average?"

Jason looked down at his skinny arms, and said

"More like logs than twigs man, seriously."

"And what about your legs? You've spent so long working on em, you've got thighs and glutes to kill for~"

Jason laughed again

"I dunno man! Most people say the exact opposite. They say I spend too much time on arms and not enough on my torso and legs. What can I say though? I love having big, beefy arms."

"Of course you do, bro? Who wouldn't? Especially when right in between em, you got your big, pillowy chest, your sexy abs, and your super toned back~"

Jason was seriously starting to wonder if Ethan was on something. Anyone could clearly see from first glance that Jason's body was badly proportioned, his arms and legs being massive from months to years of work, while he neglected his back, pecs and ab muscles. Still, he thought he looked pretty alright honestly.

"And I especially love how you're not only super sexy, you know it and flaunt it~ I don't think I've ever seen you once wear a shirt. The most you'll wear is a necklace, and even then, not like that covers anything, bro~ Only makes you look sexier"

Now here Jason had to disagree. He knew that he had cultivated and developed an amazing body over his years of going to the gym, but that was all for his own personal satisfaction. He never flaunted it unnecessarily, especially not during a stream.

"And I love the fact that you're such a fucking bro, bro. Every other word out of your mouth is bro and dude, you can't go even five minutes without flexing and thinking of fucking, or going to the gym, or hanging out with your other hot bros. We all know that your brain is basically only good for working out and looking hot. No smart's up there. And you've got your deep, sexy voice, too. Makes it even hotter that you're a gay bro, just like me"

Jason HAD to laugh at that. What the guy was saying was just so ridiculous.

"What the hell are you talking about? Look, I know that I like to show off my sexy body a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of dumb jock. And I'm definitely straight, dude. Don't know why you'd think I'm gay"

Ethan pressed on, completely unabashed by Jason's last comments.

"But you know the best fucking part, bro? Its that power of yours. The fact that any weak ass nerd who looks at you and your huge fucking muscles grows into a hot, dumb bro like us within seconds~"

Jason was busy flexing, staring at his own bicep in awe, as if he was shocked by him impressive he was. He looked up at Ethan blearily, saying

"Sorry, bro, what'd you say? I guess I got a bit fucking distracted. Huhuhu. But who could blame me~"

"Nah, it was nothing bro. You don't need to worry about it. Now should head back to the stream?"

Jason gasped in excitement, having forgotten entirely about the fact that there was a whole stream audience full of lame ass nerds, just ready for him to make as sexy as he and Ethan were.

"You got it bro~ This is gonna be so fucking hot~"

Jason left the call, going back to the stream and restarting, glad to see that a full 300 people were still watching, even through the extended break. The second he turned his camera on, he could see that people were confused for some reason, saying a stranger broke into his house. How stupid could these people be? How did they not recognize him? Still, not like it would matter for long...

"Hey bros! How're we all fucking doing? Welcomes to today's stream..."

He trailed off, looking blankly at the camera, before saying

"You know what? Fuck video games! Who needs them when you can do this~"

And as his pecs bounced and bounced hypnotically, the chat slowly transitioned from messages like "What the fuck is happening?" or "Who is this dumb jock?" to "Fuck, bro! Your pecs look so fucking hot today!" and "Huhuhu, I love making my pecs bounce like Jace's~"

And so the stream continued, Jace showing everyone all the amazing things his body could do, while anyone that was watching, whether they wanted to or not, began to copy him exactly. And as the stream went on, the viewer count rose, and rose, and rose...

[thegeminisage]

john abused both dean AND sam, just differently. in this essay i will

prove that the abuse manifested in different ways for each of them because that’s how abuse works in real life. this is based on the fact that john saw dean as mary’s surrogate but once he found out about the deal and sam having demon blood he blamed sam for her death. ok let’s fucking go

dean as mary’s surrogate

there are loads of parallels made between dean and mary in early season spn and late season spn. in season 12 dean directly calls himself sam’s mother, but even earlier than that we see him doing the cooking and child rearing. compare that to all the parallels made between sam and john (both of them losing their blonde woman significant others in a ceiling fire) and it’s clear that dean was meant to more resemble mary. it’s not a stretch to say that if we can see it as viewers this is how john saw it in his actual life. i do think john loves dean for being dean but he loves him more for being mary.

sam as the reason behind mary’s death

i think once john learned that sam had demon blood, some part of him must have always been waiting for the other shoe to drop with sam, not ever fully believing this kid was human, and maybe not even knowing if this kid was HIS. a popular theory back in the day was that YED fathered sam (something they had to actually address in season 4 to stop the speculation), and if WE speculated that hard, surely john must have too. i’m sure he loves sam as an extension of mary, and keeps and raises and protects him BECAUSE he’s mary’s, but similarly (or maybe inverse) to dean, i don’t know if he ever fully gave himself permission to love sam for being sam. in fact, i imagine john harbors a lot of self-loathing for failing to save mary. if we directly parallel john and sam, that means by some extent he would also hate sam.

john trusted dean with far too much, and sam with far too little

dean knew about monsters; sam didn’t. dean had memories of their mother and the night she died, and shared that trauma of watching her die with john; sam didn’t. dean knew when john was supposed to be home and who to call if he wasn’t; sam didn’t. dean was given the money and the guns and the CAR ITSELF; sam wasn’t. dean was taught to drive; SAM WASN’T. 

dean was expected to do everything john was supposed to have been doing in his absence - he was to be a mother and father to sam, he was supposed to protect sam from evil, he was supposed to see to sam’s meals and homework and getting to school on time. and he was put under an EXTRAORDINARY amount of pressure not to screw this up even a little bit, despite the fact that he was only a kid. sam on the other hand was kept on a strict need-to-know basis for his entire life, right up until season 1 when they reunite at last. john didn’t trust sam with ANYTHING, and sam knew it. this contributed to his lifelong anger issues because he didn’t DO anything to warrant that kind of mistrust and probably got gaslit about it a lot of times either by john himself or dean (unknowingly, by parroting/believing the things john said). even in the pilot sam says very casually of his mother “she’s gone,” because her memory doesn’t hold the same place of reverence for him - best guess is that john didn’t talk about her much to sam because he didn’t trust sam with emotional stuff either. in s14 we learn that dean was the one who told sam stories about mary, including her terrible casserole - and their attempt at recreating it infuriated john to the point of him throwing the entire concoction in the trash.

john relied on dean for everything, and refused to rely on sam for anything

canonically dean was the one who comforted john after a bad hunt, looked after and fed his brother when john wasn’t around. dean knew how to use a shotgun; sam didn’t. dean knew who to call in an emergency; sam didn’t. dean knew about monsters; sam didn’t. this was done under the guise of “protection for sammy” but turn it around and it’s also protection FROM sammy. think of how angry john gets when he learns sam has been having psychic visions. he’s not just angry that dean didn’t report it to him, he’s angry that the demon’s plans for sam are coming to pass, and that sam is becoming less human. again, he can’t TRUST sam if sam’s not human, and it proves to john that he was right all along to keep sam in the dark as much as possible.

john gave dean too much freedom, and sam no freedom at all

“watch out for sammy.” sam was under constant supervision by either dean or john; john made sure of it. again, it’s protection FOR sam but also protection FROM him, in case he did something inhuman or evil. dean on the other hand was left alone without any supervision at all for days or even weeks at a time - he resorts to stealing bread and peanut butter and (according to jackles) turning tricks for money. he had to make it work and got up to whatever the fuck he wanted when john wasn’t looking. sam had to LITERALLY run away from home before he got the simple pleasure of eating pizza and having a dog by himself, independently. dean was given too much independence and freedom but sam was kept on such a short leash he had none at all.

john made dean feel unworthy, and he made sam feel unclean

when dean fails to protect sam from the shtriga in the season 1 flashbacks, he says his dad looked at him differently after. he also implies that john physically beat him when sam ran away in flagstaff. whether he meant to or not, john made it abundantly clear that his love for dean was not unconditional; it depended very much on how well dean performed the multitude of tasks john assigned him. dean grew up believing that his only worth was in what he could do for other people. he demonstrates this an an adult over and over and over, from letting his possessed family members beat him up to refusing to take care of his own needs, emotional and otherwise, and snapping at people who try to talk to him about his own feelings.

on the other hand, sam talks in season 8 about how even at a very young age he felt impure and unclean, even before he knew that he had demon blood, even before he knew that there was any such thing as monsters. kids aren’t stupid, and sam picked up on the vibes john was putting off - that john didn’t trust him, might not have loved him, and might not have considered him human or even his own child. without even knowing why, he spent his entire life feeling unclean and inhuman, not worth of being loved by his own family. even dean, who we all know loves sam unconditionally, admits in season 14 that he often took dad’s side on arguments because he had “his own stuff,” further leading to the alienation that was sam’s constant companion growing up. 

AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY:

JOHN’S ABUSE PITTED SAM AND DEAN AGAINST EACH OTHER

john saved dean after their shared trauma of mary’s death. dean says in season 1 that the reason he stopped talking was that he was scared. iirc john’s journal implies he was mute for over a year, and dean in season 2 says that when he was 6 or 7 his dad took him shooting for the first time. if mary died just before dean’s fifth birthday, the timeline works out to dean talking again because john took him shooting. i believe that dean hero worships his father because after mary’s death, and dealing with the terror that something like that could come in and take his family away by killing them horribly at any time without any warning, john learning to fight back against the darkness - and teaching dean to do the same - is what gave dean his voice again. BOTH of them saw and carried the memory of mary burning on the ceiling for the rest of their lives. “watch out for sammy” and “get the thing that killed mom” were dean’s reasons to get up in the morning, because they were john’s reasons to get up in the morning. these things were LITERALLY his reasons for living. john gave dean a way to fight back against fear and gave him a cause to keep him going. abuse or not, dean never stopped being grateful for that, and he was the only other person in the whole world who understood the unique horror of what john went through that night. even all the way into season 10, he tells other people that john did right by him. it’s borderline brainwashing. part of dean’s self-worth will always be based on how good of a son he was to john.

on the other hand, knowingly or not, john did everything possible to alienate sam. he kept him on a short leash while also keeping him at arm’s distance. he didn’t trust sam with emotional things like the memory of mary, he didn’t trust sam with the truth about monsters and what they did for a living, he didn’t trust sam with his plans, he didn’t trust sam with the truth about demon blood. canon STRONGLY suggests john knew YED bled in sam’s mouth as a baby, but instead of telling sam or even dean about that, sam had to learn about it in a horrible flashback recreated by YED himself. when sam wanted to go to school, john told him no, and when he left anyway, john told him not to come back.

this is an equal but opposite kind of abuse. john totally fucked up BOTH his kids in complete inversions to each other.

which means that, no matter what john did, it caused sam and dean to fight. this isn’t an interpretation. this is straight up canon.

again, dean says in s14 that he frequently took dad’s side in arguments because he had his own stuff to deal with, and he was trying to keep the peace. dean, a victim of emotional (and implied sometimes physical) abuse himself, was not able to shield sam from all of john’s bullshit. he could stop sam from getting hit and having to see john during the worst of his drunken rages, but he couldn’t trick sam into thinking john loved him unconditionally, because john didn’t love either of his kids unconditionally.

when john acted in a way that was not befitting of a parent, sam rightfully took exception, which forced dean (who was ALSO BEING ABUSED, almost brainwashed) to jump to his defense. that led to john getting to do whatever the hell he wanted and sam and dean arguing about the effects. when sam ran away in flagstaff, DEAN was punished, leading dean to resenting sam for that incursion, even though sam was perfectly right to want to get away from an abusive household. when sam did a normal thing wanting to leave for college at age 18, he left, and dean resented him for that because that meant he was alone to bear the brunt of john’s anger. 

sam repeatedly made logical, emotionally healthy choices in attempting to break the family dynamic, but because of JOHN’S BEHAVIOR, not sam’s, those choices wound up causing dean harm. JOHN HIMSELF was the ultimate wedge between sam and dean growing up and beyond.

and let’s not forget the biggest sin - john spent 22 years impressing upon dean that taking care of sammy was EVERYTHING, and then without any explanation at all, he asked dean to kill him, and then he DIED, which meant dean had to carry that weight by himself (because again, he’s been trained not to trust sam with things). like of COURSE sam got angry when he found out - that’s fucking fucked up! once again sam is being treated like a ticking time bomb for absolutely no reason - he didn’t ask to have demon blood or psychic visions or a dead mom or an abusive father. nor did dean ask to be saddled with the upbringing of an entire human at four years old who he then might have to kill. because dean will always feel gratitude towards john, and sam will always feel resentment, and because based on john’s treatment of them BOTH OF THESE FEELINGS ARE JUSTIFIED, john continues to cause fights between sam and dean long after he’s dead and gone, and that will never change.

on a final note: i’d like to bring this around to season 13.

after cas, mary, kelly, and crowley all die (or are presumed dead in mary’s case) in the season 12 finale, season 13 opens with nobody but sam and dean and jack. dean directly blames jack for these deaths. he says so multiple times. he says where jack can hear him that he knows jack is evil and impure and cannot be saved and calls jack a freak. when jack tries repeatedly to kill himself dean says to jack’s face not to bother, because WHEN jack does go bad, dean will be the one to kill him. dean does NOT see jack as castiel’s child - he sees jack as someone who brainwashed cas and kelly both and got them killed. dean does not even see jack as a human person worthy of life. from the get-go, all he wants is to put jack down. jack is born into a world shaped by pain and grief and anger, where people hate him simply for what he is and who died to get him here. 

and again, sam identifies hard with jack. he justifiably protests dean’s treatment of him. jack is a kid and didn’t ask for any of this. jack is terrified of dean. sam reminds dean that john said all these things about sam that dean is saying about jack. john is still causing a rift between his sons over a decade after his death.

eventually, after jack uses his powers and brings back cas from the empty, dean pulls his head out of his ass and admits that he was wrong. he calls jack his kid more than once, and jack refers to dean as one of his dads. but the damage has already been done. jack struggles multiple times with his powers, accidentally hurting people and then wishing himself dead after. he also struggles without them; even when using his powers means using up pieces of his soul, he does it, because dean taught him that he’s only worthy of being loved and trusted if he’s “good.” even when he has NO SOUL, when jack does something bad he panics about it and seeks to undo it at any cost. that’s how deep the damage runs.

i see a lot of people remarking that in the arc of 13.01-13.05, dean became john, and i agree that he did. but dean didn’t do to jack what john did to him. dean did to jack what john did to SAM.

[spn masterpost]

[windowsandfeelings]

19 (Truth) + Lit?

“Oh please.”

It’s her driest, most exasperated voice, the one that always signals that she’s got his number. That she knows him, like really really knows him. (He gets a little thrill every time he hears it, even now. She knows him.)

“Oh please what?” he asks, though he has a feeling he knows where this is going.

“Oh please, as if I have ever believed that lie you’ve been telling me since high school.”

Yeah, he did know where it was going, but he’s sure as shit not going to confess now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. 

He gets up from his chair and picks up both of their empty plates from the table, loads them against one arm with muscle memory left over from his time waiting tables at Luke’s. He grabs the salad bowl with his free hand. The trick to evading a Gilmore is to set yourself in motion and keep yourself in motion. He carries the dishes into the kitchen.

She follows him.

“Come on, Jess,” she says. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Who said you were an idiot?”

He’s at the sink, with his back to her, but he can feel her eyes roll behind him.

“You imply it every time this subject comes up.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”

He gives each plate a quick rinse and loads them into the dishwasher. God, he loves this dishwasher. He’d never admit it out loud, but nothing makes him feel more settled, more established, than having an actual functioning dishwasher in New York City.

What’s left of the salad is just limp lettuce, saturated with dressing. He scrapes it into the trash can. ($100 they paid for this trash can! He loves it, too. What a fucking adult thing to have, a $100 trash can.)

“Jess,” she says. He brushes past her, heads back to the table for the leftover spaghetti bolognese, and the plate of garlic bread (well, the plate of garlic bread crumbs), and the parmesan. He passes her again, sets everything down on the counter. Pulls one of their reusable glass containers down from the cabinet (fucking bougie shit, those, but so much nicer than Luke’s collection of mismatched tupperware). “Jess.”

Honestly, he should just confess. It was thirteen years ago, the lie, and it’s not like it matters. Not really. But still…he’s held onto it this long, hasn’t he? And it’s embarrassing. Even now. The truth, well…

“Can’t you just let this go?” he asks.

“Can’t you?”

It had been such a nice dinner, too. Not especially nice. Just…just nice. Ordinary nice. Nice the way a lot of their dinners are—an hour spent together at the table, talking, laughing. By the time the subject shifted into dangerous waters she was leaned back in her chair, a glass of wine cradled between her hands, her feet up in his lap, in thick socks. 

He’s not even sure how the conversation turned. They’d been talking about Thanksgiving, about whether they’d go to Philly or Stars Hollow this year, because Matthew and his new girlfriend were planning some big feast, and then she’d said something about her grandmother’s dinner and suddenly they were back on that damn black eye.

That fucking swan. Still ruining a nice night after all these years.

He scrapes the leftovers into a container. Sets the dish down. Turns to face her.

“I didn’t get it in a fight.” 

Something in her face softens.

“I know that,” she says.

“Okay, so why does it matter?”

“Because.” She sighs a bit, takes a step closer to him. “Because I don’t like secrets. I don’t like knowing that there are things you won’t tell me.”

“Do you tell me everything?”

She stares at him for a moment, like she’s trying to see something in him. “I don’t think there’s anything I haven’t told you,” she says. “Not intentionally, anyway. Not anymore.”

He knows that’s probably true. She’s been big on open communication, honesty, ever since they got back together. They both have. It’s why it’s working this time. 

He hangs his head. “What if it’s embarrassing? The truth.”

She reaches out and takes his hands in hers. “More embarrassing than the time I stole a boat and dropped out of college because one asshole told me I wouldn’t succeed?”

“That’s different.”

“What about the time I dressed up like Donna Reed and made a home cooked dinner for Dean?”

He tries not to laugh, he really does, but he fails. A single, low chuckle escapes.

She shakes his hands back and forth. “See? I told you that story, you can tell me this.”

He sighs, feels his shoulders slump. She’s right. Of course she’s right. Fuck.

“I got beaked,” he says. It comes out so quiet he’s not sure if she’s heard him at first.

Then: “Beaked?” she asks. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he pulls his hands free, reaches for a dish towel off the counter, something else to do with his hands. “It means I got attacked by the unhinged swan that used to hang out by Larson’s dock.”

“Oh.” She takes a step back. “Really?”

“Would I make that up?”

“I guess not.” 

He’s not sure how he wanted her to react to this information (he didn’t want her to react, he didn’t want her to ever know), but he’s pretty sure this isn’t it, this doubt.

“You don’t believe me.”

“No, I…I’m just surprised, I guess. What were you doing?”

“I wasn’t doing anything!” She takes another step back, and shit, he didn’t mean to raise his voice. He tries really hard to keep that angry teenage boy buried deep inside. He almost always succeeds. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry.”

“Jess.” She steps closer to him again, reaches up to cup his cheek in her hand. She runs her thumb under his eye, where the bruise bloomed all those years ago. Something loosens inside of him.

“I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me about that,” she says. “Then or now.” She reaches up her other hand, so she’s holding his face between them. “And I’m sorry I accused you of getting in a fight. Or of intentionally trying to ruin that dinner.”

He shrugs, like she has nothing to be sorry for.

“No, Jess,” she says. “I was wrong.”

She lets go of his face, takes one last step forward until she’s pressed into him, her nose buried in the crook of his neck, her arms tight around his waist. He’s not going to cry, he’s not, but he swallows hard as he folds himself around her.

“I should have just let it go,” she says, wet, into his sweater.

“No,” he says. “I should have told you ages ago.”

She gives him an extra squeeze, and then steps back. Looks up at him. She’s not crying, but her lashes are all stuck together.

“No more secrets,” he says, and he means it.

She nods. “Deal.”

They go to Matthew’s for Thanksgiving.

[tootiredmotel]

a different lover is not a sin

or: 5 times Dean didn't go to Pride + 1 time he did

Happy @starrynightdeancas gift exchange posting day!!! This one's for the wonderful and talented @andzia267 !!! Sending you all the hugs and good vibes, and I hope you enjoy it! And thank you Sophie for hosting all this, you're a rock star! <3

Read on ao3 or below / 5.5k words

CW: homophobia, queer used as a slur, john winchester being an asshole

1 - 1994

Dean was fifteen years old when he found out that being gay was something people could be proud of. It was early in the morning, they'd left their motel about 20 minutes before, and Sammy had fallen asleep in the backseat. The sun was just starting to completely show over the horizon, and they were driving through– or rather, struggling to get out of– Phoenix on their way to a possible poltergeist in Tucson. Every street they tried to take was blocked for the big event, and dozens of people already lined the sidewalks with colorful outfits and signs.

"Fuckin' queers," John grumbled in the seat next to him. "Never should'a thrown that damn brick."

Big banners overhead displayed "Stonewall 25: A Global Celebration of Pride". Dean made a mental note to hit up a library once they got to Tucson to look that up, "Stonewall". In the meantime, he was mesmerized staring out the window. Guys held hands, women kissed, everyone was practically vibrating with excitement. A black man in heels and a wig caught his gaze through the window and waved. Dean started to wave back, but his hand was harshly swatted back down.

"Do not," John said. "Don’t talk to them, don’t even look at ‘em. These people are sick in the head."

Dean focused his gaze on his lap until they were out of the city, and his mind wandered back to the gas station they stopped at the day before. He thought of the guy at the cash register that called him "cutie" and winked at him as he bought a candy bar for Sammy and beers for Dad with his fake ID. By Dad’s logic– which Dean trusted, of course–, that cashier, that queer, must've been sick in the head.

Then Dean remembered how his heart sped up, how his ears got hot, and how for a second he let himself think the cashier was kinda cute too. He realized he must also be sick in the head, and the thought was making him feel actually, physically sick. He felt like throwing up. Dad could never know.

Dean was fifteen years old when he learned that being gay actually wasn't something to be proud of.

---

2 - 2000

Dean was 21 years old when he learned the word “bisexual”. Dad had caught word of a ghoul case in lower Manhattan and sent Dean to take care of it. It was starting to get too hot and the streets were too crowded, but Dean was mostly glad to get a break from the constant fighting between Dad and Sammy.

Except it was June, and every time he turned a corner, there they were. The Pride parade flyers.

The second he spotted a rainbow he averted his gaze. He turned another corner and spotted another one. He avoided reading them at all costs. He heard Dad’s voice. Sick. Sick in the head.

For years now Dean had pretended he wasn’t sick. He pretended to not stare at Patrick Swayze too much whenever Dirty Dancing played on TV. He pretended like he didn't imagine what it would be like to kiss a guy, what stubble would feel like against his lips if he ever did.

He liked women. He could stick to women. He could live his whole life like that. And that meant he wasn’t totally sick, right? He wasn’t gay -gay if he liked girls.

But then what the hell was he? Would he even belong at one of these Pride things if he wanted to? He was probably a freak of nature. Even sicker than the rest of the bunch.

Curiosity got the best of him. He spared a glance at one of the flyers as he waited to cross the street.

Gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transexuals, ALL WELCOME

“Are you gonna go?” A voice next to him asked. ”It’s next weekend.” He was blond, pale, and a bit shorter than Dean.

“What? No! I don't swing that way,” Dean said, a bit too quickly and with too much bite.

The guy looked him up and down with a frown. “Geez, alright. Just askin’.”

He started to walk away, and Dean spoke up before he could stop himself.

“Hey man, wait.”

The guy stopped walking.

“Sorry, can I ask you something? Assuming you... know about this stuff?”

He seemed exasperated, but he turned anyway, willing to hear Dean out. Dean licked his lips, rubbed at the back of his neck, swallowed nervously. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, asking a stranger on the street about something so personal. At least the chances of meeting this person ever again were close to none.

“What’s bisexual?”

The guy’s features softened a bit. He seemed to understand something about Dean that so far Dean refused to acknowledge.

“It means you’re into more than one gender. And yes, you can do that,” the guy said. He flashed Dean a tight smile and then disappeared into the crowd.

Dean felt his hands go numb and balled them into fists, shoving them in his pockets. He took a deep breath through his nose. The guy said you. You are. You can.

The guy didn’t know what he was talking about. He knew nothing about Dean. He was wrong.

Or maybe he was right.

But he couldn’t be.

Dean couldn’t be… that.

Dean was 21 years old when he decided he wasn’t bisexual. He wasn’t anything. He was also 21 when he solved a case in record time (two days), just so he could book it out of New York before the next weekend arrived.

---

3 - 2004

By the time he was 25 years old, Dean knew he was bi. He hated it, he never spoke about it, and he ignored it as much as he could, but he was aware of it. And he knew he was bi because, at 25 years old, he’d already gone through two serious breakups, and they both equally sucked.

The first was Lee. He hunted with Dean and John for about a year, the second half of which Dean and Lee spent sneaking around and hooking up behind John’s back. It was fun, and hot, and exciting, and some of the best hookups he’d had up until that point in his life were with Lee.

But the thing is that it wasn’t just hooking up. They were close, and Dean liked him. A lot. They kissed for the first time after a particularly scary werewolf hunt in which Dean almost died, but John was more preoccupied with the mostly-unharmed victim than his own son. Dean and Lee rode in the backseat, bruised, bloody, and quiet. When John went to walk the victim up to her apartment, Lee reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s back, asking him if he was okay. Dean fell into Lee’s arms, and they kissed as they pulled away from the embrace, soft and comforting. It was Dean’s first kiss with a guy.

Lee was a lot of firsts for Dean over the next few months. But then John almost caught them once, drunk and making out in the Impala.

And then that case in Arizona went wrong, and Lee just couldn’t take it anymore. He packed up, swore off hunting, hugged Dean goodbye, and left him in the dust.

Dean needed to clear his head after that. He could barely look his dad in the eye after that close call, couldn't let him see the sorrow he was feeling. With every interaction, he imagined how John would yell at him, probably try to beat it out of him, if he noticed all he was feeling over Lee. Or worse, John could ignore him, practically disown him like he did Sam.

So he also packed up and left. Went hunting on his own for a while.

It was on one of those hunts that he met Cassie, and she was yet another handful of firsts for Dean over the course of a few months. She was amazing, and he fell hard and fast, but of course that went up in flames too.

Then again, he should've known better than to be honest. Honesty only ever got him in trouble.

He’d just left her back in Ohio and was working at a bar in Indianapolis for a few weeks to make some cash. He’d eventually meet back up with Dad. He just couldn’t right now. Not with Sam gone to college. Not after getting his heart broken twice over within a year.

He was hyper-aware of the end of June approaching. He knew it was coming, Indy had a pretty big celebration, and he made sure to be working all day that day so he wouldn't have to face it.

That was pointless, though. Toward the end of the day, a big group of about ten or twelve people who were clearly coming from the parade stumbled into the bar. One of them was apparently the owner’s little sister and they went there every year after the celebrations. They were loud, and obnoxious, and looked incredibly happy. Their happiness was contagious, and Dean loved serving them. He chatted them up, got to know them a bit, and heard all about the parade, all while staring down anyone at the bar who dared look their way with even the slightest stink eye.

But watching them that happy and comfortable, seeing not one, but two pairs of guys sloppily leaning against each other and sharing the occasional kiss while none of their friends seemed to bat an eye… something in Dean ached. Deeply.

Dean was 25 years old when he realized that a small part of him kind of, sort of, wanted to be part of this community. He couldn’t though. Not if he wanted to be on good terms with Dad. Not if he aimed to be the man Dad wanted him to be.

He left Indianapolis the next day.

---

4 - 2008

Dean was 29 years old and on his own personal highway to hell when he learned his brother went to a Pride parade before he ever did. They were driving through San José, the streets were lined with ads for Silicon Valley Pride, and Sam just casually decided to mention how fun it was the last time he went.

Thankfully they were at a red light, or else Dean probably would’ve slammed the breaks. He twisted to look at Sam head-on, his arm on the back of the seat.

“You what ?” he gawked.

Sam shrugged innocently. “What?”

“You went to one of these Pride things?”

“Yeah, dude.”

Dean’s brain was just trying and failing to load. “Why?” he finally asked.

“Jessica was in the GSA and some friends invited us. It was awesome.”

“She was in the what?”

“The G. S. A.,” Sam answered slowly. “Gay-Straight Alliance.”

“Oh.” Whatever that is, Dean thought. He kept eyeing the flyers. It was tomorrow.

“Green.”

“What?”

“Light’s green. Green means go.”

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

He kept driving and turned up the radio. Somebody To Love was playing, and as much as he liked Queen, he had to change the station. He tried to picture his little brother (his straight little brother) wearing rainbow face paint and having the time of his life at this thing. How come Sammy got to go when Dean could barely entertain the idea? Dean was the not-straight one. It wasn’t fair.

He channeled his jealousy into gripping the steering wheel.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah.” No. “Yeah, m’fine.”

Dean was 29 years old when he died and went to hell without ever having gone to a Pride parade, knowing that his idiot ( straight! ) little brother already had.

---

5 - 2014

Dean was alive again and 35 years old (75, if you count hell) when he was formally invited to a Pride parade for the first time. It was a couple of days after that whole mess with Cas in Lucifer’s crypt, and he called Charlie. He just wanted to hear her voice, needed to know he was still on good terms with at least one of his best friends.

“So anyway,” Charlie said after a while of recounting what she’d been up to. "How single are you right now? My answer is: miserably."

Dean chuckled. Then he thought of Cas, and the smile disappeared. "Yeah, you and me both, sister."

“Would you mind coming with me to this thing next month? Going alone kinda sucks.”

Dean put the phone on speaker and placed it on the library table as he sat down with a beer. “What’s the thing?”

“Pride.”

Dean was glad no one was around to see him almost choke on his drink.

“You good?”

“Yeah, what was that?”

“Pride parade. Don’t have anyone to go with this year.”

“Why uh… Why? Why me?”

She knows.

“I dunno.”

She knows she knows she knows.

“You’re my friend, Dean. Thought maybe you might be interested. But never mind, I guess.”

And while all the alarms in Dean's head were blaring danger danger danger abort, he also hated to hear Charlie so disappointed.

“Hey, no, listen, Charlie, I… I would. Really. You know I support you, wholeheartedly." And that's obviously the only reason I would want to go. "But with Sam doing these trials, and Cas on the run with the angel tablet–”

“It’s okay Dean, I get it. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah.”

And she hung up.

Dean knew, at this point, that there was nothing wrong with being queer. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it sure as hell didn’t mean you were wrong in the head or whatever.

But years of pretending to be a false version of yourself in an effort to please a man who was impossible to please wasn’t exactly an easy habit to break. As much as he wished it didn't, as much as he wished he could just exist, the thought of anyone finding out still made him sick to the stomach.

John’s voice still echoed in his ears. His words still drove Dean’s sense of self-worth and so many of his decisions. He tried to never stare at a good-looking guy for too long. He tried to not get too into it with Benny. He tried to keep his feelings for Cas at bay, tried to keep him at arm's length, tried to keep the fact that he was in love (deeply, stupidly in love) as close to his chest as he could.

Even that night at the crypt choking out the words to get through to Cas, he couldn’t bring himself to say what he meant. I love you, he’d wanted to say, because it was the truth. What came out, however, was I need you. And he did, he needed Cas more than air, but it wasn't quite everything.

It still got his heart split in two.

Was he so far gone over Cas that he couldn’t hide it? Had he been trying so hard and failing just as miserably this whole time? Was his attraction to dudes that obvious? Or did Charlie just have a sixth sense for this kinda thing?

It was probably the last one. He hoped it was.

Cas knew, for sure. Angels knew everything right? They could read minds, feel longing, or whatever. And if none of that ever tipped him off, well, Dean put it all on the line back in that crypt. He told Cas how he felt, told him he needed him, tried putting himself out there, and it got him left. Again. With Dean, it was always leave-or-get-left when it came to love. He was tired of it.

Dean was 35 years old, desperately in love with his best friend, and truly heartbroken for the third time in his life, when his other best friend– an out and proud lesbian– gave him a chance to go to Pride, to break through his shell, to finally embrace himself as he was; but because he was practically living in the closet, he couldn’t seem to find the handle after so many years of purposefully ignoring its existence, and he missed his chance. Besides, what was the point of going to a celebration of love without the love of his life by his side?

---

+1 - 2021

Dean is now 42 years old and the happiest he’s ever been. The love of his life? Cas? Turns out he’s felt the same way all along. They're kind of together now, and slowly but surely they’re working through a decade’s worth of shit.

They’ve been raising a kid together too, along with Sam and Eileen, and that kid is also God. After saving the world and whatnot, Jack decided to bring back some of their friends and family that died over the years: Mary, Kevin, Charlie. Yes, there are two Charlies now, but it’s not as confusing as you’d expect. (One is from another dimension, and the other one is Dean’s little sister. Simple.) Mary’s off hunting most of the time and Kevin’s applying to college.

They’ve got extended family now too, Jody and the girls. OG Charlie is staying with them for now, while she finds her footing. Most of that household is queer. Most of Dean's household is queer as well, actually. Turns out both Jack and Eileen are non-binary, Cas is gay in the broader sense of the word, and Dean…

Dean is bi. And everyone knows now.

Apparently, a lot of people had known for a long time. Sam has known since the siren back in ‘09 (even though Dean stands by the fact that it wasn’t like that, Sammy ), and everyone has slowly picked up on his and Cas’s thing over the years, so there’s that.

He still feels a bit weird about it. About calling Cas his boyfriend, about having the freedom to hold his hand in public, about the fact that they now have goddamn pride flags hung around the bunker. He feels even weirder about the fact that John’s voice in his head is now drowned out by the sounds of his home life, more lively and supportive than he ever expected to have.

He wasn’t expecting any of this, he didn’t think everything would change so fast. But when you spend the better part of your life pushing down such a huge part of you and then finally give yourself an out, a chance to show the people who love you who you really are, everything just... follows.

Love follows. Acceptance follows. Family follows. And he wasn’t really expecting any of it.

He certainly doesn’t expect it when Cas walks into the library after his weekly Thursday evening call with Claire and announces, matter-of-factly and with air quotes, “We’re going to "Pride" this weekend.”

Dean’s stomach drops. It’s the Sioux Falls Pride Parade and Festival, it’s in two days, and they’re leaving tomorrow to spend the night at Jody’s so they can all be there bright and early Saturday morning. Everyone immediately starts bustling about, packing and planning outfits and gathering flags to bring with them.

Dean just goes to his room– his and Cas’s now– to pack a small duffle.

Well, he means to. Instead, he takes out the duffle from the closet, puts it on the bed, and sits next to it for a while. An hour goes by. He thinks back to all those times he had brushes with one of these things and was just never in the right mindset. He’s not even sure he’s in the right mindset now, but he’s going. It’s happening.

“Jack’s all ready to go,” Cas says when he walks in. “We spent about half an hour putting together an outfit for Saturday. He wanted it to be as colorful as possible.”

Dean smiles, but it’s not all there. He looks at the empty duffle next to him.

“Yeah, I might need some help with that myself.”

Cas is in sweats and a hoodie. Yes it’s June, yes it’s hot, but he’s a quasi-angel, and the way he experiences the world Dean will never be able to wrap his head around. He walks over and stands in front of Dean, running a hand through his hair and down the side of his face until he’s cupping Dean’s jaw. Dean takes Cas’s hand and leaves a few kisses on the inside of his wrist, closing his eyes as he does.

Cas regards the empty bag and hums quietly, as if in thought, before walking over to their closet. Dean chases his hand, holding onto it until he’s completely out of reach. Cas starts searching, and Dean’s stomach knots more and more with each clang of the hangers. Cas finally pulls out a flannel from its hanger– purple with hints of blue and pink– and tosses it over. Dean can’t believe he didn’t think of it first.

They continue to pack in comfortable silence before changing and getting into bed. Dean doesn’t flop onto his stomach or cuddle into Cas’s side as he usually does; instead, he lies on his back and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice snaps him out of it.

Dean turns his head and asks, automatically, “You okay?”

It’s a habit by now, asking each other that question. It’s part of the working-through-a-decade’s-worth-of-shit thing they’re doing. Turns out they share a whole lot of trauma. They share worries and insecurities. They share nightmares sometimes, mostly about the Empty.

“I’m okay,” Cas says, putting his hand on top of Dean’s heart for him to hold, and Dean can breathe a little easier.

“You nervous about this thing?” Dean asks, interlocking their fingers.

“The parade? No, not really.”

And then, because he's been working on communicating how he's feeling out loud or whatever, Dean looks back up at the ceiling and says, "I am. Kinda."

He feels Cas shifting and propping himself up on his elbow, and then he's in Dean's line of sight. Dean's gaze is drawn to him, like all of him has been since the moment they met, and Dean can't believe he just has this now. He has a boyfriend, and it's Cas, and he's looking down at Dean with stars in his eyes and a comforting smile that actually works because it's Cas.

And then Cas is leaning down and softly pressing their lips together, and that's also something Dean can’t believe he gets to do: kiss Cas good morning and good night and at any moment in between, kiss him I'm sorry, kiss him we're going to be okay, kiss him I love you.

"I love you too, Dean," Cas says once they've pulled away, and Dean didn't even realize he'd said it out loud, but it doesn't matter. "And you don't need to be nervous. I'll be there with you."

The thought should be a thousand times more nerve-wracking, not just going to Pride but going to Pride with Cas on his arm. It's not nerve-wracking at all, and he soon drifts off to sleep.

Friday goes by faster than it should. The six-hour drive to Sioux Falls, although packed in a car with five people, goes by in a blink. They stop for provisions before getting to Jody's, filling up on backpacks' worth of snacks.

They get to the house and are met with endless hugs and excitement to match. Patience, Alex, and Jody are already working on dinner for the bunch, while Charlie, Donna, and Kaia are running around prepping for the next day and dragging along a hesitant but nevertheless happy Claire. Dinner is chaotic and loud and there are way too many people at the table, and Dean has to step outside after a while.

He sits on the back porch steps. Claire joins him. She's holding a beer, he's not. He hasn't been drinking for a few months now. They don't talk, but she leans her head on his shoulder and they stay there a while, looking at the stars.

When they go back inside, Claire sits back down in her spot at Cas's left, across the table from Dean, and leans on his shoulder for a while too. It's her way of saying she cares, of saying I missed you without really saying it. Jack sits at Cas's right, talking excitedly with Patience about some tv show or other, and the image fills Dean with such fondness that he reaches over with his foot, presses it to Cas's ankle, and keeps it there for the rest of the night.

Dean, Cas, Jack, Sam, and Eileen spend the night spread out around in the living area while the girls sleep in their respective rooms, and Dean is only slightly less nervous as he falls asleep holding Cas’s hand.

---

The nerves all come flooding back as he’s parking the Impala the next morning.

They’re not able to get even remotely close to Phillips Avenue since the streets are so full. They park the three cars that all twelve of them came in as close as they can and then have to walk for another twenty minutes. From blocks and blocks away, people walk and holler and greet them excitedly, many of them trying to circle this swarm of flanneled individuals that are taking up a whole sidewalk. Granted, Dean and Claire are the only ones in their usual kind of outfit. The rest of the bunch is wearing as many colors as they could compile from their closets, half of them are wearing face paint, and the other half are carrying an assortment of pride flags.

They fit right in.

The walk toward the main avenue of the parade is kind of a blur for Dean. He knows he waved at a few people, some friends of Alex from high school joined the group at some point, and Jack already grabbed a snack from his backpack.

The actual parade is also kind of hazy. Getting out of the house that morning had been probably even more chaotic than the night before, so they’re a bit late and the parade has already been going for a good half hour. On top of that, they accidentally merge into it not quite at the starting point but a bit further down the road, in between a decked-out pickup truck and a group of people with dogs. Music is blaring, the dogs are all barking, a big float rides a few yards in front of them, and hundreds stand on the sidewalks recording on their phones and cheering them along.

Dean’s not sure they’re even supposed to be in the actual parade. Maybe they’re supposed to be on the sidewalks? Is this right? What is happening, what is he even doing here?

He doesn’t notice how heavy he’s breathing until Cas is squeezing his hand and beckoning him to meet his eyes. He does, and the blue in them, as imposing as the Atlantic, drowns out everything else around them. “You’re okay, my love,” Cas says. It’s a fact. As long as Dean is with him, he’s okay.

On his other side, Dean feels someone link their arm around his. It’s Charlie, and she’s beaming at them, her cheeks almost as red as her hair. It brings Dean back to reality, grounds him, but he’s okay now. He’s not alone, and he’s meant to be here.

He’s proud to be here.

The parade leads up to a sloping park, and at the lowest point of it, there’s a stage where Dean assumes someone will MC for the afternoon, or maybe perform. It’s grandiose in its simplicity, kind of like a Greek theater, with everyone settling down on the grass around it, expectantly.

“We’ll be right back,” Dean hears Sam say, and he turns to find they’re all set to spend the afternoon, towels laid and backpacks off (save for his). “Jack wants to go meet the drag queens,” Sam says with just a bit too much glee before he and Jack take off.

“It’s not just Jack,” Eileen smiles and follows.

Cas is already sitting, eating one of the PB&Js he packed as lunches for everyone. Jody and Donna are settling down as well and Charlie’s taking a dozen pictures, but the rest of the girls are all standing. “We’re gonna go check out the vendors,” Claire announces, and they start to take off as well.

“Be careful, please!” Dean calls after them, but they pay him no mind. He turns to Charlie. “Hey, your majesty, keep an eye on them will you?”

She smiles, bows gracefully, and heads in the same direction.

Jody stands and grabs Dean by the arm, beckoning him to talk in private for a second.

“What’s up?”

If Dean knows Jody at all, and he does, they’re on the brink of a mom talk.

“Look around, Dean.”

“What for?”

“Just look,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Please?”

So, at her request, Dean starts taking in the environment. Now that everyone is gathered, he can actually see all the people that came out (heh) for the event. There are church groups, pet shelters, skateboarders, and rollerskaters. Drag queens are already taking pictures by the stage, and at least two people are wearing unicorn heads. A few vendors’ tents and food trucks surround the park, and rainbows completely dominate the scenery. There are elders, and kids, and all kinds of families and couples, and everyone looks… happy. Free.

And Dean is here with them. He is one of them.

There’s no danger, no monsters of any kind. No one to judge him, hurt him, call him sick in the head.

He finds Claire’s blonde head amongst the sea of shoppers at the edge of the park. She’s holding hands with Kaia and has one of the biggest smiles Dean has ever seen on her face. There’s no shame in it, and she’s not in any danger either. Things are different now, and she has the freedom to be herself that he never had at her age.

He has it now too. He can be himself.

Dean doesn’t realize he’s about to cry until Jody pulls him down into a hug.

“Dean, I am so proud of you.”

And then he cries.

---

They spend the afternoon laying on the grass, eating, drinking, and enjoying the festivities. The girls come back from the vendors’ tents after a full hour, and most of the bags on their arms are Charlie’s. She gets Cas a mug that says bee yourself in rainbow colors with an image of a cartoon bee, and she gets Dean a button pin that says AC/DC in pink and blue. There’s a meaning behind that apparently, and Dean decides he’ll look it up later.

Jack memorizes all the drag queen’s names. Donna takes a million pictures. They trade numbers with a few people.

There’s a big fireworks show just after sundown. It starts to get windy and a bit chilly, so Dean grabs the nearest pride flag and wraps it around himself. Cas, the perpetual freak who just doesn’t feel temperature apparently, is wearing a t-shirt and shorts and smiling at him unabashedly.

“What?”

“That’s the bisexual flag.”

So it is. “Shut up,” Dean says, but he’s smiling too. “You want in on this?”

He doesn’t wait for Cas to respond before he wraps it around his shoulders as well. The fireworks continue.

“You know,” Cas says after a beat. “As beautiful as they are, pyrotechnics are extremely damaging to the environment.”

Dean can’t help but laugh because of course, Cas would say something like that in a moment like this. He laughs and laughs and regrets being the only one to have heard that; then again, he’s the only one who could’ve found that funny.

He laughs a bit more, wipes a tear, and sees that Cas is still just solemnly watching the show.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He replies and then turns his head.

Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to kiss him so bad. Then he remembers where he is, physically and in his life right now, realizes whom he’s surrounded by at this very second, and decides that he can.

So he does. It’s not unlike the way he kissed Cas when they rescued him from the Empty. Granted, there’s less sweat, blood, adrenaline. But just like that day, they’re both on the ground, and the gesture catches Cas by surprise. Just like that day, Dean pulls Cas in gently by the back of his neck and there’s no hesitance or fear. Just like that day, he just does it, presses their lips firmly together, and relishes in the taste of Castiel, in the feeling of the person he loves most in this world kissing him back.

The one big difference is this: that day marked the beginning of the rest of his life. Today? Today is just Dean’s first Pride.

[bluejayblueskies]

10 for the hug prompts with JonMartin? 🥺

touches prompt list

10 - hiding their face in the other’s neck

a no-fears au where jon and martin are in an established relationship! cw for nausea and a brief mention of vomiting (doesn't actually occur)

.

Jon doesn’t do roller coasters.

It is not, despite what Tim says when he thinks Jon isn’t listening, because he’s a, quote, ‘old man at heart’ and doesn’t know how to have fun. In theory, Jon is actually rather fond of roller coasters. He’d watched a documentary once about the design of them, and it had been rather fascinating.

It’s not because Jon doesn’t like roller coasters. It’s…

Well. It’s probably more accurate to say that roller coasters don’t like him. Specifically, his sense of equilibrium and his digestive system. Pills help somewhat, if he remembers to take them, but the fact of the matter is that he’s much more likely to leave the ride with a feeling of intense nausea than of exhilaration. He just… gets motion sick. No way around it. He always sits in the front seat of cars, ensures that he’s in a forward-facing train seat at all times, rarely travels by boat, and… avoids roller coasters.

The fact that he is currently standing in the queue for a particularly large and particularly frightening-looking roller coaster is not, therefore, due to his overwhelming love for them. It is instead entirely due to his overwhelming love for the man standing next to him, eyes bright and excited as he explains the history of this particular roller coaster. His hand is warm and soft in Jon’s, and their clasped hands swing absently back and forth as they slowly inch forward in the queue. His curls are a shock of auburn against the sky, and when he laughs and squeezes Jon’s hand, Jon forgets his anxiety entirely for a moment, lost in a wave of affection and fondness.

“—and because it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary of the ride,” Martin says with a wide grin, “it’ll be running backward today! Well, all season, I- I suppose, but we’re here today, so…”

Jon has never been on a roller coaster that’s traveled backward. It does… not sound appealing.

“That’s… very exciting,” Jon says with a smile, trying to make the words sound as genuine as possible. Because he is a coward. Or, perhaps, just very in love. Maybe both.

It’s just… Martin had been so excited when he’d dropped the amusement park tickets in front of Jon a few weeks ago. And in the four months or so that they’ve been dating, Jon has found it increasingly hard to say things that will cause that wide, unabashed smile on Martin’s face to dim even in the slightest. So Jon had discretely taken several motion sickness pills before they’d left that morning and had told himself that there were plenty of other things to do at an amusement park besides roller coasters and spinning rides and other things that make it their personal mission to tie Jon’s stomach into knots.

And then Martin had spent the entire train ride rambling about the various roller coasters and how he’d always wanted to go to an amusement park but he’d never been able to find the time or the money before and how he’s never been on a roller coaster but they look so fun, and Jon just… hadn’t been able to tell him.

It’ll be fine, he tells himself as they finally reach the front of the queue, the brightly colored cars sitting empty in front of them. It’ll be… completely, totally fine. Nothing to worry about.

They sit a few rows from the front. The click of the restraints makes Jon’s stomach squeeze with nerves, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. He doesn’t realize that he’s gripping the bar in front of him with white knuckles until Martin says gently, “Hey. Is… everything okay?”

No, but it’s certainly too late to change my mind now, Jon does not say.

“Yes,” Jon says, loosening his grip with considerable effort. It’s fine. “Just… b-been a while since I was on one of these.”

Technically not a lie.

“Oh!” Martin gives him a soft smile that makes his heart stutter in his chest. “Well, it’ll be a… new experience for both of us then, I suppose.”

The car jerks into motion, and Jon’s hands tighten instinctively on the bar again. It’s a… disconcerting effect, to be moving backward rather than forward, and one that Jon is decidedly not fond of. They exit the staging area and begin to climb up the first of the many, many hills Jon had eyed warily from their place in the queue. Jon looks straight ahead and does not look down and tries to breathe through his nose.

A warm hand covers his, and Jon looks over to see Martin watching him, that same soft smile on his lips. Martin squeezes gently, and Jon relaxes, just a fraction.

Then, the car tips over the peak of the hill and begins to accelerate, and Jon’s world blurs into a mess of colors and sensations.

The only part of the ride that Jon enjoys is the fact that it’s over quickly. By the time the car rolls to a halt—after a terrifying sequence of loops and drops and harsh curves and tight spirals—Jon feels as if his insides have been scooped out, stuffed in a washing machine, tumble dried, and then pushed back into him at all the wrong angles. Martin’s hand is still gripping his, somehow, and it remains there as they exit the car and make their way down the ramp and into the main thoroughfare. Jon’s legs feel boneless, like they’re made of jelly, and he is deeply afraid that if he opens his mouth, he is going to empty the contents of his stomach onto the pavement below.

Gentle hands are on Jon’s shoulders then, and Jon finds himself guided onto a metal bench just a few meters away from the exit ramp. Jon tries to protest that he’s fine—they have limited time here and he doesn’t need to take a break—but his stomach rolls and he pinches his lips shut before he manages to form a single word. When a hand settles on his upper back and presses down gently, he finally gives in to the urge to bend over and tuck his head between his knees in an effort to alleviate some of the lingering vertigo.

“Breathe, Jon,” Martin says, and Jon does. He takes a few deep breaths, and when a particularly powerful wave of nausea overtakes him, he can’t help the groan that escapes him. “I know,” Martin says softly, moving his hand in soothing circles on Jon’s back. “Just keep breathing, Jon. We can get some water in a bit, just… for now, let’s sit.”

Jon is too nauseous to be properly embarrassed by the coddling. That situation changes quickly as the minutes pass and Jon’s stomach begins to settle. After what must be nearly ten minutes, the nausea has faded entirely, but Jon keeps his head between his knees so he doesn’t have to look at Martin’s face.

“Feeling any better?” Martin prompts, and Jon lets out a slow breath. He nods once, and—with the help of Martin’s hand on his arm—straightens slowly, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground as he does so.

“Sorry,” he says, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear him over the din of the crowd.

“You don’t have to apologize for- for feeling sick,” Martin says. He rubs a thumb against Jon’s arm and says, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I- I didn’t think… it would be this bad?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon sees Martin give him a look that very clearly expresses his skepticism.

Jon sighs and puts his head in his hands again. “I just… didn’t want to disappoint you, I suppose.”

Martin is, of course, sharper than Jon gives him credit for sometimes. “Because I said I’d never had the chance to go on a roller coaster before?”

Jon nods miserably. “I-in my defense, I thought you would start with something significantly less… gravity-defying.”

“Jon,” Martin says, kindly and patiently yet with a chastising edge to it. “You could have waited by the exit.”

“I—I didn’t…” Jon feels the tips of his ears grow warm. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“Oh,” Martin says, his voice pitched a touch higher than normal. “That’s… um, r-really sweet, actually.”

Jon is glad that Martin can’t see his face because he’s sure whatever expression would have crossed it just then would have been utterly sappy and mortifying.

“B-but I—I don’t want you to make yourself sick on my account,” Martin hastens to say. “There are loads of other things to do here. W-we don’t have to ride the roller coasters.”

Jon uncovers his face and looks at Martin. “But you want to ride the roller coasters.”

Martin worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t deny it. Instead, he says, “I… also want to spend time with you, Jon. D-doing things we both want to do, not… not just me.”

Jon stares at Martin and thinks, not for the first time, that he loves him. But it’s still too early to say it, probably, and he’s certainly not going to do so sitting on a sticky metal bench surrounded by children and tired-eyed parents. So all he says, in the end, is, “If… if you’re sure.”

Martin takes Jon’s hand in his and squeezes gently. “I am.” Then, he gives Jon a wide, soft smile that has Jon’s stomach twisting all over again. “So. What do you do at amusement parks, then?”

Jon flushes. But Martin doesn’t laugh at him when he mumbles that he’s actually quite fond of carousels. Instead, he takes Jon’s hand and walks with him across the park—staying away from the more crowded sections, stopping to buy some horrendously overpriced bottles of water on their way—until they’re standing in front of the carousel, painted in lovely pastel blues and yellows.

Jon, for a moment, feels self-conscious and more than a bit childish. But then Martin squeezes his hand and says, without a hint of teasing, “So, what animal do you prefer?” and the tension in Jon’s shoulders melts away in an instant.

Jon learns that Martin likes the classic horses, manes painted gold and plastic saddles a bright cherry red. (And Martin is entirely unsurprised to find that Jon chooses the cat, every time.) He learns, as they continue to explore the amusement park, that Martin likes caramel apples but hates how they get stuck in his teeth. (He purchases one anyway, rolled in peanuts and little rainbow sprinkles, that gives Jon a toothache just looking at it.) He learns that Martin does not appreciate his explanation that the monsters on the haunted house ride are ‘just dummies’ and ‘obviously fake’ and ‘really, Martin, that’s not even the correct number of bones in a human skeleton.’ (Though he secretly treasures the way that Martin clings to his side in the car and hides his face in Jon’s neck, his curls tickling the sensitive skin just underneath Jon’s chin.)

And Martin, apparently, learns that Jon is strangely good at midway games.

“You know those things are totally rigged, right?” Martin says, staring at Jon in disbelief as he tries and fails to adjust his grip on the frankly enormous plush teddy bear the midway worker had begrudgingly surrendered to him. And the medium-sized plush cat he’d won earlier. And the dozen or so little plushies and trinkets and accessories he’d acquired along the way. “You’re not supposed to be able to win.”

“Yes, well.” Jon gives up on trying to find a comfortable way to carry his prizes and extends the massive teddy toward Martin. “I suppose I’m just… lucky.”

He is certainly not going to admit that he spent a good three days researching what to do on a carnival date, came to the conclusion that it would be romantic to win an enormous stuffed animal for Martin, and committed himself to memorizing which games were easiest to win and what strategies he should employ in order to have the best chance at success. That would be… well. A bit much, he thinks. Best to just… not mention it.

Martin carries the teddy all the way back to his flat, his cheeks flushing a lovely pink whenever an occasional curious glance is thrown in their direction. It’s only once they get there and Martin tries to pass the plushie back to Jon with a sheepish, “Suppose I better give this back now,” that Jon realizes he had… indeed not been very clear about his intentions.

“It’s… for you, actually,” Jon says, ignoring the way his cheeks are growing steadily warmer. Then, Jon takes a breath and pushes the rest of the plushies rather unceremoniously into Martin’s arms, save for the cat which he’s… grown rather attached to in their short acquaintanceship. “Th-they all are. Er. F-for you.”

“O-oh.” Martin looks down at the collection of brightly colored things in his arms, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “I—I… really?”

Jon hugs the cat tightly to his chest, feeling something like embarrassment curl in his stomach. “I-if you don’t want them, I—I can—”

“No!” Martin says quickly, curling his arms protectively around the plushies. “I—I do. W-want them.” He looks down at the teddy sitting by his feet, then up at Jon with a warm, shy smile on his face. “Th-thanks, Jon.”

I love him, I love him, I love him.

Jon nods, pinches his lips together, and tries to keep his affection contained. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, after all. That’s… something he’s not meant to do, he thinks.

Then, when they’re both lying in bed and Martin’s chest is pressed against Jon’s back, his arm curled around Jon’s middle and his nose buried in Jon’s hair, Martin murmurs, “I love you,” and Jon’s breath catches in his throat.

“I… I love you too,” he whispers. And it’s such an easy thing to say that Jon wonders why he’d ever worried at all.

Martin makes a sleepy, contented noise, burrowing closer and wrapping Jon more tightly in his arms. And because he can—he can, he can, Martin said it first, so he can—Jon says again, so quietly he isn’t sure Martin can hear it: “I love you.”

The words are sweet on his tongue, like candy floss and funnel cakes and caramel apples.