#anyway I’m just gonna throw up this story instead of studying for exams

[ohno-the-sun]

Oooo scene from chapter of fic I finally finished

Link to the first chapter here

And since they asked @enyter

[soulsmashers]

          to  give  nate  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  justin  is  fully  aware  that  he’s  a  major  asshole.  with  a  resting  bitch  face  and  his  entire  aura  and  personality  in  general,  he  knows  he  can  be  a  lot.  he’s  not  going  to  bother  trying  to  show  nate  that  he  actually  has  more  layers  than  an  onion  because  he’s  positive  nate  doesn’t  care  about  that.  he  doesn’t  care  about  him,  solemnly  focused  on  passing  his  class,  and  justin  fully  respects  that.  to  get  him  to  open  up  was  like  pulling  teeth  anyway.  it  was  just  so  much  easier  to  be  hated  for  who  he  wasn’t  rather  than  loved  and  pitied  for  his  tragic  story,  one  that  he  practically  buried  and  liked  to  pretend  that  it  never  happened.  not  that  his  frequent  check  ups  and  long  term  effects  of  treatment  weren’t  a  constant  reminder  (  thankfully  it’s  mostly  just  fatigue  if  he  overworks  himself  too  much  ),  not  to  mention  that  when  he  does  get  sick,  whether  it’s  something  as  simple  as  the  flu,  he  gets  very  very  sick.  he’s  aware  that  his  immune  system  has  weakened,  but  this  gives  him  more  of  a  reason  to  prove  that  he’s  superior,  that  he’s  dominant  and  can  outsmart  anyone.  he  doesn’t  bother  to  respond  back  to  nate’s  initial  claims,  instead  replying  with  an  eye  roll  he  doesn’t  even  bother  to  hide.  justin  just  needs  nate  to  get  it,  to  stroke  his  already  inflated  ego.

          when  nate  points  at  the  incorrect  index  card,  justin’s  jaw  visibly  clenches  in  clear  frustration,  but  he  doesn’t  utter  a  word,  despite  the  fact  that  he  wants  to  practically  throw  all  his  school  supplies  towards  the  other  male.  thankfully,  nate  is  quick  to  let  him  in  on  the  joke,  not  that  justin  thinks  it’s  funny,  but  it  still  causes  the  smallest  smile  to  make  it’s  way  onto  his  lips.  “good.”  he  tells  him,  placing  another  question  in  front  of  him,  with  another  two  cards.  at  his  following  claim,  a  sigh  escapes  his  lips.  “you’re  right,  i  don’t  need  you  to  pass,”  he  wasn’t  wrong  there,  but  that  wasn’t  the  point,  “but  just  because  i  don’t  need  you  to  pass,  doesn’t  mean  i  don’t  want  you  to.”  need  and  want,  two  different  things,  yet  sometimes,  it  feels  like  they  go  hand  in  hand.  “look,”  he  starts,  his  tone  meaning  business,  “i’m  sure  you  don’t  like  me.  hell,  you  may  even  hate  me,  and  that’s  fine.  you  don’t  have  to  like  me  so  i  can  get  all  this  information  through  your  thick  skull.  yeah,  i  don’t  need  you  to  pass,  but  i’m  not  going  to  sit  here,  wasting  my  time,  thinning  my  patience,  to  watch  you  fail.  failing  is  for  losers.  you’re  not  a  loser,”  a  pause,  followed  by  a  shrug  and  him  fighting  back  a  playful,  shit  eating  smirk,  “even  if  you  dress  like  one.  and  walk  like  one  too,  but  that’s  beside  the  point.”  he  was  just  being  a  jerk  now,  but  it  wouldn’t  be  justin  if  he  wasn’t.  he  hands  him  all  his  study  notes,  the  flash  cards,  everything,  putting  it  all  in  one  binder.  “you’re  not  gonna  lose  your  funding  because  you’re  not  going  to  fail.  you  can  take  all  of  it  and  don’t  bother  bringing  it  back  after  the  exam.  i  don’t  need  it,  you  can  keep  it  all.”  that  was  as  nice  as  justin  valmount  was  going  to  get.  putting  his  stuff  away,  he’s  swinging  his  obnoxious  designer  bag  over  his  shoulder.  “questions?  concerns?  potential  bitch  fits  thrown  my  way  before  i  leave?  i’m  all  ears.”

“ exactly, you hear yourself speaking, right? you're aware how patronising that shit sounds? i'd love for you to do it with your eyes closed too, but not all of us took ap whatever to just get this and i've got to sit the exam. ” he shoots back, frustration barely forced to the edge of his tone. there's no way to explain to justin how much of the basics he missed in high school because he was busy not going to high school. that most the time he had to work. or go to hearings. that it was far easier to just fail when it's what was expected of him anyway. even if he did have the words, nate certainly wasn't going to say it - to make it abundantly clear just how little he deserves to be there. as if the way justin talks doesn't make it apparent enough that he knows. “ you think i don't realise that? it's not like i'm trying not to understand it. ” dark locks shake quickly, though for once he bites his tongue rather than let the rest of the words follow. it'd be all too easy to start an argument with the other male, to tell him exactly what he thinks of him. but despite everything, he does need justin. hell, he's pretty sure anyone else would have given up with him a few hours ago. it's the only reason he shuts up, forcing himself to listen to the explanations that follow. it helps. sure, nate's considered that perhaps ultimately failing but getting to throw something at justin might be more satisfying on more than one occasion over the course of the tutoring. but it does help. brown eyes move over the two cards laid out in front of them, rising to the other male to study him for a moment before his hand reaches for the card with the incorrect answer. “ here. ” he offers, brief pause following between the two, amusement ghosting ever so faintly over his features as he considers how frustrated justin would need to be in order to storm out. “ — that one's wrong. ” words finally add rather than risk finding out, sigh escaping his lips as he leans back in the seat. “ you don't need me to pass. ” he shakes his head as the other male speaks, throat clearing softly. “ if i fail this class i'll lose my funding, then i'm out of this place, so - ” shoulders raise in a quick shrug. “ i am trying, you know. and yeah - i think i get it. more than i did, at least — can i take those? i'll bring them back after the exam, just... to look at it in the meantime. ” he nods in the direction of the flash cards, appreciation lacing the words even if he doesn't bring himself to say it.

[ristoranteivorykeys]

the valse – chapter 1

when you thought the greatest of your worries was an unanswered confession, an enigmatic musician has returned to sage island, and the task of investigating him is thrusted onto you.

azul ashengrotto x reader

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hellooooo !!! so <_< this is a project that i had been working on for probably a month now. azul’s birthday is in a week’s time from now, and i wanted to celebrate it by writing a fic for him 😳 this ended up becoming a whole novel, so for sure i’m gonna be updating this story even after his birthday ahaha. i can’t promise an upload schedule as of the moment, but for sure, there will be an upload on the 24th for his birthday~!  ╰┈➤ 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: @greninjajeje​​ for helping me out with this fic so much 😭 all the late nights i’ve stayed up to write this OTL

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭: part 2

Clang!

You jerked from the startling sound. Looking up to see where the sound came from, you glared at Floyd, whose lunch tray now sat on the spot of the table in front of your own. A nearby student shouted an “oi”, only to look away when he saw who dropped the tray. Diagonal to your left, Azul appeared just as bothered as you. 

“Floyd,” he sternly said with a glare. “I already told you many times to not drop your tray on the table.” 

Floyd simply shrugged while uttering a nonchalant sound, and he sat down, immediately digging into the sandwich served for today’s lunch.

Azul simply sighed, looking away from him to focus on the notes in his notebook once more. 

“Ehh, are you studying again, Azul,” Floyd asked with a frown, a droll in his voice. “Professor Trein’s exam’s in two weeks, y’know.” 

“Yes, and it is going to be a long exam,” he answered with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. “It’s best to start studying early, after all. I’d rather not be disturbed by banging trays and people talking to me, thank you.” 

“Really now, Azul,” Jade spoke with an amused smile. “You don’t typically study for tests unless it’s a week ahead. Are you sure it’s not because of something else?” 

You stopped chewing. Suddenly, your stomach felt heavy from the awkwardness that weighed it down. 

“Jade.” Azul looked up once more but with a glare in his eyes meant to scare someone to silence. However, the aforementioned student merely responded with a chuckle before taking a bite of his food. 

“Jeez, this is all your fault, Sae,” Floyd said as his mismatched eyes averted towards you. He took another bite of his sandwich.

His words added more weight in your stomach. A sense of guilt for being awkward? A slight anger for being called out? Both perhaps. “I’m… I’m sorry?” Calm, you have to remain calm and professional, you told yourself.

“Now now, let’s not throw the blame so carelessly like that,” Jade said after swallowing his own food. “After all, this issue isn’t entirely Sae’s fault. Somebody,” his own mismatched eyes glanced at Azul, whose eyes were skimming through notes again, “still hasn’t given his reply yet.” 

“Tch.” The other twin stabbed a piece of meat using a fork and put it in his mouth. “I thought it was annoying when Azul and Sae would be talking for hours about boring stuff, but jeez, this awkwardness is worse.” 

“Floyd.” You pointedly looked at him, showing enough anger to be stern, but not enough to look ready to start a fight. “Just leave us alone. And anyway, Azul’s still thinking about it, just give him some time.” 

“Yeah well, you could at least be talking normally instead of keeping to yourselves like a bunch of coral fish,” Floyd said. “The no’s always there, anyway. We could at least spare the awkwardness.” 

You didn’t say anything in reply, having nothing to counter his words. Floyd sighed. 

“Y’know what, I’m gonna walk around.” He stood up, picking up his unfinished sandwich. “This place is too stifling, and I don’t like it.” Floyd took another bite of his sandwich before walking away from your table with his hands in his pockets. 

Jade shook his head in amusement before he stood up. “I apologize, but I have to go too. I must do my daily check on my terrariums, after all.” 

“Yeah sure,” you said, but you eyed him suspiciously. You knew. Behind the apology was that desire to leave as well, leaving you alone with Azul. The twins shared a single brain cell, after all. 

“I’ll see you during work.” Jade waved a hand before following his brother. You waved back in return before taking another bite of your meal. 

The awkwardness didn’t leave. If anything, without the twins, it weighed even heavier between you and Azul. You chewed more slowly, focusing on the taste of your meal and on how the flavors danced in your mouth. At the same time, your ears paid more attention to the noise around you: teenage boys’ voices talking and shouting as multiple conversations took place left and right, each one of them saying something but unsure if anyone was taking the time to listen. Then once you swallowed, you immediately took another bite, chewing slowly once more and savoring the taste. 

For a minute, it worked. A minute of a sense of tranquility.

But all it took was an accidental glance towards your left to ruin the peace. Azul’s eyes never budged from the notebook, seemingly unbothered by the noise of the cafeteria. You should have looked away. You knew you should look away, but damn your heart for wanting to gaze at him more. His posture remained straight, his hair – at least the front side – kept its neatness from this morning and framed his face well, and his eyes subtly moved left to right as they analyzed the contents of the page. He’s focused on his studies as always. He’s hardworking as always. He’s beautiful as always. Azul made your heart race in excitement, so much so that it hurts.

“I thought it was annoying when Azul and Sae would be talking for hours about boring stuff, but jeez, this awkwardness is worse.” Floyd’s earlier words repeated in your head. And though his bluntness left you angry, you couldn’t deny the sadness that it left you with. You hated this awkwardness too. You longed for the normalcy you used to have with Azul, the conversations that you two would hold for hours. You wanted to break the ice. But somewhere, the rhythm changed between the two of you, and you couldn’t match it no matter what you tried to do. It’s frustrating. Nobody ever told you that awkward moments such as this would ever occur. 

“Sae.”

You blinked over the mention of your name, returning to the real world. Upon seeing Azul’s eyes on you instead of the notebook, you felt your stomach drop. Sheer embarrassment waved over you. Oh no, he spotted me.

“Y-yeah?” I’m stammering, you noted. That’s not good. 

“Is there something you wanted to ask me,” he asked. 

You pressed your lips to a thin line as your thoughts started entering your head with the speed of a bullet train. Do I say that it’s nothing? Do I try to start something? Do I want to ask him, you repeatedly ask yourself. Wait. I should reply fast. The silence is getting too long.

“Ah, um…” Think, think, think! You yelled at yourself. Your brain strained to think. Your eyes wandered around. 

Another second passed. 

… Ah! “I was thinking about our research proposal,” you answered, your voice slightly raised in pitch from nervousness. “The submission’s next week, and well, we should try to finish it and revise it.” Nice one, you mentally patted yourself.

“Ah… that’s right,” he answered as he adjusted his glasses slightly. “There is still a lot of time between now and the deadline, so we can accomplish it tomorrow. Today, I want to focus on planning for the spring season limited menu we’re planning to serve starting March.” 

“Oh okay, that’s cool,” you said while nodding.

“And it would also be good for you to be more familiar with your duties,” he added, a pointed gaze aimed towards you.

Ah, that’s right. You suppressed the urge to groan. You forgot about the fact that you’re now working in the Mostro Lounge. “Yeah, yeah sure.” 

Silence entered between you two once again as Azul turned his head to the notes in front of him. If it was a week ago, it would have been a brief but comforting respite. But at this moment, you disliked it. It grew heavier than before. You wondered if you should end the conversation there or try to start something again. On one hand, ending the conversation here felt awkward as always, but on the other hand, trying to start something would possibly result in an even worse situation. It happened once, and you hated it. 

Or perhaps… bring up the elephant in the room that weighed the atmosphere in the first place. 

… No, you couldn’t do that. The thought left you feeling cold from nervousness and dread. Surely, you couldn’t bring yourself to–

“Um,” you uttered before you could stop yourself, and immediately after, you closed your mouth shut. Dear Great Seven, what have you done?

“Yes?” Azul looked at you once more. His gaze was expectant. Almost annoyed, if you squinted. Or was your mind deciding to play tricks on you? 

You took a deep breath. It’s too late to turn back now. 

“Um… well…” You hated it. You hated how these words wouldn’t come out easily. “I just, um, wanted to say…” 

His expression seemed unreadable, but you knew that he knew what you were going to say. 

“You know, you can, well… no I mean, you can, um…” 

His eyebrows subtly furrowed from confusion. It was a small movement, but you saw it anyway. 

You sighed in frustration. “You can reject my feelings if you want, you know,” you finally said with a slightly shaky voice. A hand scratched the back of your head, and your eyes couldn’t look straight at him. “I mean, I don’t really mind if we remain friends. And um, we’re still in high school, and you’re running your restaurant, so it’s okay and all…” Well, truth be told, it wouldn’t be totally okay. Rejection will always be painful, but you’d take it over the long awkwardness between you and Azul.

“Mm…” His expression became unreadable, but in the corner of your eye, his gaze seemed to avert from you. For a few seconds, you waited with bated breath. Would his answer be different this time? Would you finally get that rejection? Or better yet, would he accept your feelings? 

“I… still don’t know how to respond to your feelings,” he answered slowly. “It’s… it’s a bit complicated right now. I’m sorry. I can’t give you a straight answer.”

You hummed in response accompanied with a small nod. That was more or less the same answer he gave to you when you confessed your feelings to him. It left you feeling both relieved and frustrated. Relieved because there’s a chance. Frustrated because the no still hovered over you like a ghost haunting you.

“But I also must apologize for what has happened between the two of us,” he said. At his words, you found yourself looking at him again, and he’s looking at you again. His expression softened to make way for a smile. No lies tainted his words, and his eyes gleamed with a clearness like water. “I shouldn’t have let such feelings interfere with our relationship. I’ll make sure our conversations will be normal again.” 

For the first time in the lunch break, you smiled. A small one, but still a smile nonetheless. “I’ll do my best as well.” Another lull entered the conversation, but this time, the atmosphere between the two of you felt a little lighter. You breathed. You relished in how much easier it felt to do so. Around the same time, a draft hit your back, surprising you for a moment and prompting you to turn to the nearby windows. Oh, they’re open, you thought to yourself. 

“I must take my leave,” Azul spoke up, catching your attention once more. “Are you alright by yourself?”

“Ah.” You didn’t dare show it, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart sank over his departure. “I’ll be fine, yeah. I’ll finish my food first, then I’ll leave.”

He nodded. “Alright. I’ll see you after lunch, Sae.” 

“Bye Azul.” You waved at him, and he waved back before leaving the cafeteria. The students around you remained in conversation, yet it felt quiet. A bit lonely, but it didn’t stop the smile forming on your face as you watched him leave the cafeteria. Only when he disappeared did your smile vanish, and you finally turned back to your meal.

Just as you took in one bite, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Hm? Did Azul need something, you wondered as you pulled out your phone and checked the notification. 

But when you saw the name, you swore you could almost hear your short peace shatter. 

A message from Mother.

“There should be no…” the notification read. But you already knew what it said, and much to your annoyance, your mind completed it. 

There should be no boundaries to human endeavor. We are all different. However bad life may seem, there is always something you can do and succeed at. While there’s life, there’s hope.

You pocketed your phone again with a little more force than you intended. Suddenly, lunch tasted a little more sour. “Damn it, mom,” you whispered to yourself as you gripped one of your utensils. “Why can’t you just stop bothering me?”

[bostongirl13]

Piano, Thanksgiving and heart attack

A/N: I wrote this with the intention of continuing this story ➡ New Dodger photo  , but it can safely be treated as a one shot.

Summary: I think the title explains it all 💙

Warnings: age gap, Scott and Chris are assholes, swearing, mistakes

Words: 1,5k +

TUESDAY 

You growled in frustration not being able to remember a single word and what was in the linguistic pragmatics tasks.

"Stupid subject" you muttered, throwing your pencil across the room and letting it hit the wall. Dodger, who was lying on the couch behind you and keeping you company, raised his ears to the sound.

You've been sitting in the living room with your back against the sofa for a good five hours because your lecturer thought up an exam the day before the long weekend. Because, of course, speech acts, language functions, the theory of speech acts, and the communicative intention are so damn important that they can't wait until next week.

"Fuck" you cursed under your breath and rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your head starting to ache. And tears fall from my eyes from staring at the laptop screen for a long time. You needed a break, but you knew that if you do it, there is no chance that you will go back to studying. Being stubborn and hard to give in by nature, you took a deep breath and started reading the definitions and tasks once again.

Chris, of course, knew how difficult and hard this item was for you, so he was always as quiet as possible, occasionally bringing you a bowl of fruit, coffee, or tea, and ordered take-out food. He was loved. Even though you didn't thank him and just nodded your head, or just said nothing and paid him no attention, he knew you appreciated his help anyway. But seeing you sitting another hour in front of the computer with red eyes and tired, broke his heart. He couldn't watch his love work to death, and he knew that if he asked you to take a break, you wouldn't. So he came up with an idea, the implementation of which would make you leave your studies.

So he went to the piano standing against the wall and after a few minutes of choosing what he wanted to play, he put his fingers on the keys and caused the first notes to come out of the instrument.

You stretched and flipped through the notes page when you heard like music fills the air without effort, the sound rushing in and around every person in the room. You smiled and closed your eyes, leaning your head against the couch behind you. You listened to the melodies played by your boyfriend, feeling it sweep your whole body. The best thing about music was that it gave you strength and motivation. The variety of music in the universe is so diverse that there is something for everyone to enjoy. Music doesn't worry about anything; that’s the beauty of music.

You turned to Dodger and stroked his head.

"Dad is probably giving us a sign that there is enough study for today"

Dodger licked your face. “Okay, okay, that's it. Come on "you got up and stretched again. The dog jumped off the couch and followed you into the room where Chris was playing.

Chris was sitting in sweatpants and a navy blue sweater. His long fingers moved over the keyboard of the instrument, pressing the keys in the correct order so that the emerging notes formed a melody.

You walked up to him and hugged him from behind. "Thank you," you whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek.

"I'm glad you finally got away from studying. Do you like what I play?

"Very" you sat down next to him and put your head on his shoulder "Can you play any more?" you asked.

Chris kissed your head and started playing again.

Now sitting close to him and the instrument, you could hear and feel the musician much more clearly than before. Dodger lay down on his bed near you and listened too. Your eyes immediately felt heavy. You closed them, but you tried to stay awake. He had time, music surrounded the space him. You had to admit that of the many talents Chris had, this one was one of your favorites.

"I think it's time to sleep, Princess" you nodded and you let him rise you from chair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, holding tight. "I guess I should start talking to you Koala" he laughed and you pressed your face against the hollow of his neck.

After a warm shower and putting on something to sleep, you both cuddled into each other, or rather you into Chris not allowing a minimum of a gap between your bodies. Even though you had an important exam tomorrow, you felt calm and knew that you would do well tomorrow.

THURSDAY

Quick update: there was no exam because it turned out that the lecturer did not have time to prepare the questions. You were relieved, but you were also furious because you could spend this time with your beloved men. However, you will not turn back the time, and what was now mattered. 

You sat snuggled up to Chris on the couch in his mom's living room and watched as two pupies and Dodger attacked Scott on the floor. You tried not to laugh because you knew the video would end up on Instagram, but you really couldn't help but see this scene. Even Stella giggled and watched the whole thing happen. You put your cheek to Chris's shoulder when he finished recording.

"All right?" he whispered to you, seeing your eyes freeze at one point, you were thinking something

"Yes. I'm just happy. Thank you for taking me with you to your mother's Thanksgiving. Maybe I shouldn't, but I feel like I'm surrounded by my family."

"How could I not take you with me," he said in an offended tone. The invitation was obvious to him and he saw no other scenario for the day. "Honey, you shouldn't feel bad about being comfortable with my family. On the contrary, I'm glad you feel that way. It means a lot to me. And I can assure you that they also treat you like a family member." he kissed you on the lips to which you heard "ugh!" and laughed seeing Stelle covering her eyes.

 Later that same day

You, Chris, Scott, and Dodger came back to Chris's house. All the way you couldn't stop laughing at the guys whining about eating too much.

As soon as you entered the house, the three men took their place on the couch in front of the TV. You rolled your eyes and being a good girlfriend, you went to the fridge for a beer.

"What have I done to deserve you," Chris said, taking a cold bottle of amber drink from you.

"Don't get used to it too much" you kissed him, "I'm going to take a shower" you add and disappeared down the hall.

"Don't you dare to let her go," said Scott, being sure you couldn't hear "If you do, I’m gonna kick your American ass." he took a sip.

"Funny." Chris laughed, "Don't worry, I'm not going to let her go."

Getting more comfortable after showering, you put on leggings and Chris's hoodie. Completely unaware that a trap awaits you as soon as you exit the master bedroom. 

You've been moving around Chris's house by heart. So instead of looking straight ahead, you looked at the phone. Chris and Scott were standing behind the wall so that you couldn't see them and both of them, with video recording, waiting for you. After a while, they heard your footsteps and they both looked at each other. Chris showed three fingers as he counted. 3... 2 ... 1 ...

"Y / N !!!" they both shouted giving you a heart attack.

"Aaaaaaaaaa ... !!!" you screamed, terrified, and you jumped up and you slipped and fell. Chris grabbed you at the last minute and pulled you close. "Are you crazy ?!" you snarled.

Your heart was beating dangerously fast in your chest, your breathing couldn't slow down. Both guys were laughing when you thought you were having a heart attack.

"I'm sorry, Princess, but you were the only one I hadn't scared off yet." 

"Be careful I don't scare you, you asshole," you threatened by hitting him on the chest. "How old are you? 5?"

"Oh, don't say you haven't got used to our childish behavior yet." Scott smiled at which you rolled your eyes. 

"Sorry," Chris repeated and kissed the top of your head.

"You guys are so cute," commented Scott.

"That goes for you, Scott too. You both are on my blacklist," you narrowed your eyes.

Chris hugged you tighter, feeling your heart beating fast. You hugged him, cuddling up to him and trying to calm down.

About an hour later you managed to play on them and scare them. In both cases you recorded everything and with a smile on your face, pleased with yourself, sent them the video, which they both later uploaded to Instagram. 

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

The first match continues! How will our intrepid hero get out of this mess? (Spoilers, it’s ghosts.)

[No. 33 - Shinsou’s Situation]

Our first page here is actually another mock cover! Which I think might be a nod to some other comic book cover, though I would not be able to tell you which one.

Poor Izuku’s shirt, who knows where it might have gone. Boy’s gonna get a cold like that. And he’s standing on top of the rubble of a fallen apartment building I think? Just from the ladder and some of the brick-like debris. And the gloves and boots are definitely a different style from what we see Izuku wearing in canon. 

Anyways, into the chapter proper. The crowd’s making a lot of noise as Izuku continues to stand there frozen, with Present Mic comments on that fact, along with how Izuku is looking confounded and not even twitching. He correctly identifies it as Shinsou’s quirk at play, though he frames it as a question because, you know, show business. Ochako and Tenya are confused and concerned, as is Toshinori. 

Shinsou continues to stand there, menacingly, as Present Mic goes on about how they were barely aware that this guy existed, but now he’s sure one to keep an eye on! Aizawa brings up a pair of sheets, catching Mic’s attention, as he brings up how the entrance exam was completely irrational. The sheets have simple specs on the two, since they knew this would be a quirk versus quirk battle.

...wait, oh my god, but this WAS a quirk versus quirk, battle, though, just not in the way anyone was expecting! It was a mental control battle instead of a physical versus mental quirk battle! And was our first nod towards One For All having a powerful mental aspect, which becomes a major plot point like 250 chapters from now. I am just. Huh. Well then.

Continuing on with Aizawa’s commentary. Shinsou apparently failed the practical part of the exam, so he lost a spot in the hero course. He got into general studies, though, and that’s all he could have hoped for. His quirk is extraordinarily powerful, but, given the format of the practical exam, his ability didn’t help him out. 

Down in the arena, Shinsou comments to Izuku about how it must be nice to have everything handed to him. He then commands Izuku to turn around and walk out of the ring. Izuku ends up doing so, and Present Mic comments on Izuku following orders like a good little boy - which means that the crowds (or at least the announcer booth) has to be able to hear what’s being said?

Uhm. (Looks at later matches) Either they have selective hearing, or the mics must have been destroyed during the Izuku-Shouto match before they could give away anything incriminating.

Anywho. We finally get info on Shinsou’s quirk, Brainwashing! Which is absolutely not what his quirk does, it’s more like puppeteering or hypnosis, where brainwashing is a longer-term conditioning process. Shinsou’s quirk, according to the narration here, makes anyone who verbally responds to him instantly brainwashed, and will do whatever he commands. However, the quirk won’t work if he doesn’t will it. 

Huh, so I suppose that means written or signed responses don’t work, then. I’ve seen that in a fic or two. Though that then leads to the question about making noises that aren’t outright responses, like groaning or scoffs or whatever… eh, battle now, quirk thoughts later.

Up in the booth, Aizawa thinks about how, from the result of the strength tests, Izuku really shouldn’t have been placed in the hero course either. But Shinsou’s stats are even worse in any event where he couldn’t make use of his quirk. Izuku would come out on top in an ordinary battle, but now that he’s brainwashed, it’s a different story. This will be over quick…

Meanwhile, Toshinori is panicking over seeing Izuku about to walk out of the ring, a litany of ‘no’ escaping him as he mentally begs fo Izuku to stop walking. Izuku is also stressing out over his body not listening to him, as well as how fuzzy his head is. He’s trying to get himself to stop, and swearing when it’s not working. He’s especially mad at himself because Ojiro had even warned him about this ahead of time -

And as if to highlight this, we shift into a flashback where Izuku and Ojiro are talking. Izuku wonders how he can win against mind-control quirk. Ojiro replies that his loss could be Izuku’s gain. His memories cut out from the instant he replied to Shinsou, which is what he thinks is the trick.

Izuku is stressed out as he summarizes that it’s all over if he slips up and says anything to Shinsou. Ojiro disagrees, saying that it doesn’t seem like such an almighty ability. Remember how he said he didn’t remember anything until the end? When Shinsou had them run past to nab Tetsutetsu’s headband, he thinks he must have bumped into Tetsu’s formation - which was when he snapped out of it. He was suddenly aware of what was happening.

Izuku guesses that it had been undone by the physical contact, which Ojiro agrees with. That said, however, he has no idea how strong the contact needs to be. And in a one-on-one match, of course you can’t expect any outside help. (Cough) Anyways, that’s everything Ojiro can tell him. Izuku replies that no, it’s awesome, thanks! Ojiro asks for forgiveness if he’s out of line, but he wants Izuku to win this for him.

With that, we ome back to the present, Izuku getting awfully close to the line and his ringing himself out. Izuku thinks how it can’t end like this, over in a flash. Everyone’s done so much for him - he can’t lose here. 

And something responds.

Eight pairs of eyes watch from shadowy faces, almost everything about the specters nondescript. Izuku has no idea what’s happening, even as they seem to linger at the fringes of his mind. One For All starts to flow under the skin of his left arm, with Izuku quickly realizing he can move his fingers, even just a twitch. Shinsou, ignorant of this, starts to talk about how Izuku wouldn’t think so, but Shinsou’s quirk is like a dream. Oh, right, and Izuku loses. 

Izuku’s response?

He’s not out of it yet. Izuku heaves like he’s just breached the surface of a lake, his feet stopping right on the inside edge of the line. He then turns to stare at Shinsou in a very concerning way as Present Mic wonders at Izuku managing to stop. 

You know, I have this particular face saved in my folder under ‘boss music starts playing’ AND ‘boss music intensifies’. I feel like that’s pretty appropriate.

Izuku’s fingers throb in pain, and apparently the cameras are able to zoom in enough for Aizawa to see it and realize what happened - Izuku smashed it up to shake off the brainwashing. Ojiro is in nervous awe at Izuku going that far. Shinsou himself is unnerved, asking how he did it, that he shouldn’t have control. 

And here’s where we get to some interesting internal monologue from Izuku that I don’t think made it into the anime. 

Izuku slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from replying, thinking about how the finger was all him, but something woke him up. What was that? Who were all those people in his mind? For that one second, his head was clear!

One For All, All Might had told him. It’s passed down like the Olympic torch. Izuku recalls those words, and wonders if those were people, and if that was a sign that he’s linked by this power to the past. Did they save him? Is that even possible? Izuku tries to shake it off, knowing that just thinking about it won’t give him any answers, and to save it for later. He needs to think about now.

[I will have thoughts about One For All at the end of this, but for now, let’s finish up the battle.]

Shinsou is pissed, thinking about how Izuku’s not answering him, wondering if he figured it out. But no, he probably knew from the start, that that ‘damn monkey’ told him. He just has to get him to open his mouth again. He mocks Izuku for having nothing to say for himself, but Izuku manages to press his lips together and say nothing as he shifts into a fighting stance. 

Shinsou presses on, stating how he’s jealous, and how just moving that finger must mean Izuku’s the real deal. Thanks to his quirk’s nature, he couldn’t enter the golder gates. Izuku wouldn’t get that, since he’s naturally blessed. You people, born with your awesome quirks, getting to follow all of your dreams!

Izuku sweats as he pushes himself forward, internally noting that that’s how he used to think too. He does get it. But… right. He is blessed. He’s blessed by the people in his life! And that’s exactly why - that’s why he’s not going to lose!

Izuku throws himself forward, one hand grabbing Shinsou’s shoulder while the other slams itself into his stomach. Shinsou retaliates with a cross punch into Izuku’s face, demanding he say something. However, Izuku only turns back to stare at Shinsou, determination burning in his eyes as he begins shoving Shinsou back. Shinsou says that pushing him out isn’t gonna happen, right before he yanks himself out of the grip and doges around. Shinsou says he’ll give Izuku that honor instead as he smacks a hand into Izuku’s face and pushes him back. 

(Also, interrupting the flow here, but Izuku is making noise without Shinsou able to take control, so it really does seem like it has to be a response and not just noise. Which makes sense!)

Izuku grabs Shinsou’s wrist and his shirt, and with one mighty heave, manages an over-the-shoulder throw that firmly slams Shinsou back-first into the ground - and just over the line.

I’m pretty sure this is the same move Izuku pulled on Katsuki during the Battle Trial, actually - at least, from that momentary reaction shot we get from Katsuki. 

Midnight calls the match. Shinsou is gritting his teeth, and Izuku is straightening himself out as Midnight confirms that Izuku is moving on to the second round. 

And with that, the chapter comes to a close. What a match. And now that I’m not breaking the flow, it’s time to go back to the ghost stuff and ramble on it a bit more.

Alright, so. One For All. First time we’re seeing the ‘haunted’ aspect of it - and honestly, it’s not far out of line with what we end up seeing it capable of later on. It comes off as a physical quirk, but One For All as a stockpile holds everything from the past holders - strength, quirks, memories, personalities. And because of that overwhelmingly spiritual lean to the stockpile, One For All is, in many ways, as much a mental quirk as Shinsou’s, if not more so. Arguably, it could count as the most mental quirk, and that ties back into something All Might mentions at the end of the Hosu arc - that One For All can’t be taken unwillingly. 

I’ve seen criticism of this fight’s handling, and how One For All shouldn’t have been able to (or interested in) stopping Shinsou from taking the win. But it’s really not about Shinsou’s quirk itself - it’s about the mental control! The helplessness, the desperation from not one, but two living holders to overcome this and retake control from the person commandeering them.

One For All’s existence, it’s purpose, is to resist being taken by All For One. It is the collective will of nine people, all with a deep-seated will to resist control. So why wouldn’t One For All step in here, when Izuku needs to learn to fight against mental puppeteering? When the still-hazy spirits of the quirk must already have the sinking feeling that All For One isn’t as dead as hoped?

Can it really be a surprise that they stepped in?

I’ll probably make a longer post digging more into this after Kamino, but yeah. Honestly, this fight is a LOT more interesting in the manga than I recall from the anime, since we get a bit more of Izuku’s thought process and what’s happening with OFA. 

To close us out, here’s some discord commentary on the match:

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

May you always be satisfied...

With Hamilton coming out on Disney+ July 3rd (today!!), I thought it would be fitting to combine these two requests!

Hamilton is a heartfelt musical about one of America’s founding fathers, performed by actors that comprise of the far more diverse America of today. I would highly recommend it...! The music and story are superb--and that’s coming from someone who typically does not enjoy rap!!

I wrote headcanons instead of a scenario, since it would be kind of difficult to squeeze in the entire run time of the musical/movie in under 1000 words. It’s also difficult to manage balancing movie scenes and the reactions of 5 boys + Yuu in an imagine! I tried to keep the details of the musical vague as to not spoil Hamilton for those that are interested in checking it out.

Enjoy--and remember, don’t throw away your shot!

(Tagging @shayclov391​ to make sure they see this!)

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Ace Trappola...

...hogs all the popcorn when you crowd around the TV for movie night.

Complains loudly when you tell him you’re going to catch a musical--and not just any musical, but a historical one! (“Seriously? You couldn’t have picked something cooler?”)

He grumbles about the selection, but shuts up and accepts it since it’s your turn to choose the movie anyway.

Flicks pieces of popcorn at the others during the opening.

Despite all of Ace’s whining, he does end up getting pulled in by the story and the music of Hamilton.

Really expressive--lets out a ton of “Oooooh!”s and “Aaaaah!”s during particularly impressive scenes.

“Uwaaaah, that was great! Way better than I expected!” he declares during the credits. (And no, those aren’t tears in his eyes! It’s just a pollen allergy, a pollen allergy!)

Ace will be much more willing to watch your movie picks in the future--you clearly have great taste!

Deuce Spade...

...is eager to watch! He’s usually the type to go for a good action flick, but trying new things is fun, too!

He gets very engrossed in Hamilton during the entire run time, leaning forward slightly to get a good look at how the actors are moving--even during when they’re frozen or caught in dimmed lights.

Deuce really, really gets into it. He starts singing along with the songs once he gets a general feel of the tune (even if he gets all the lyrics wrong).

Gets tongue tied with all the rapping, but that won’t stop him from trying to belt out the songs.

Shouts during the argumentative scenes too...! The cabinet battles get intense between the delegates (and Deuce shouting at them).

Tears up and sniffles during the wedding--and any subsequent scenes involving Hamilton and the Schuyler sisters--Deuce is a sucker for romances!

Once the musical is over, Deuce is already begging you to rewatch it. “J-Just once more! Once more! It’s too good not to see another time...!”

Jack Howl...

...is a very “pragmatic” movie-goer.

That is to say, he keeps to himself and tries to focus on the movie--but whenever something slightly illogical happens, Jack feels like he needs to give his two cents on what the characters should be doing or should have done. Either that, or he questions the absurdity of the situation.

He went into this expecting historical accuracy--maybe it will help him study for that upcoming Magic History exam?--and realism, not drama.

“...Everyone in town is singing and dancing.”

“Why don’t they just talk to each other about it? They’re all grown, consenting adults. Do they really need to go to all that trouble?”

“...They’re rapping for a debate?” (”Shhhh! Just shut up and watch the damn thing already!” Ace hisses.)

Jack will happily give you a detailed verbal review once the musical is over. He concludes with a small smile and the comment, “...It was pretty good overall. Silly sometimes, but still pretty good.”

Epel Felmier...

...is generally quiet upon the viewing, like Jack.

He might let out an occasional gasp or something, but he won’t make any long-winded comments like some of his peers do.

Epel screams very loud (and his country accent pops out!) at some points, especially during the climax of the movie!

His favorite character is Peggy! Epel feels like he relates a lot to her, even if she does not play a very prominent role int the musical.

...Epel also thinks that Angelica and Eliza remind him of Vil and Rook. But he’ll never say that out loud, nope!

In fact, Epel has a lot of fun drawing parallels between the characters in the musical to people he knows in real life. It helps him connect to Hamilton.

You can catch him humming along quietly to the songs!

“Wow...Hamilton was such an interesting man.” Epel muses to himself as the credits roll. “This...! This settles it! I’m gonna work harder than ever before...! So I can accomplish some amazing things like Hamilton!”

Sebek Zigvolt...

...is like a storm of emotions from start to finish. Think of a roller coaster--that is Sebek.

He does not sing along to the songs like Deuce does, but he really feels for the characters and what they’re going through.

Their struggles, their emotions, their suffering...Sebek bears it all with them!

Joins Deuce in shouting at the screen during arguments and other tense scenes in the musical.

Gets particularly offended and passionate during the parts where characters betray or backstab each other--what about their loyalty, their camaraderie?! Sebek would never even dare to think of betraying his Young Master like that.

He cries during both the happy moment and the sad moments. Loudly.

By the time the final song is playing and the curtains close, Sebek is one giant, sobbing mess of a man. Barely comprehensible. 

“...Do you want some tissues?” Jack asks, out of politeness. Sebek responds with a furious nod and a loud sniffe.

[amjustagirl]

Chapters:  one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dream.He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears echoes of the birdsong in her laugher, the songs to the gods in the wind.

(Loosely inspired by Kimi No Nawa)

Masterlist link here 

AO3 link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

‘It’s for my mother’s birthday’, Akaashi says, and the florist tilts her head in thought, a dimple appearing on her right cheek. 

‘What about pink carnations? They’re pretty and well within your budget’.

‘Good choice – plus it means that I’ll never forget her’ he says, nodding in approval and she bustles around to gather her materials, fingers nimbly twining tissue and ribbons around the blooms. 

‘Oh - ’, he begins to say in surprise when he notices she’s included a bunch of baby’s breath in the little bouquet, because a university student’s budget only stretches that much. 

‘Don’t worry, it’s on the house’, she hastily reassures him, her curly hair bouncing as she shakes her head. ‘I just thought it’s sweet you’re buying flowers for your mother.

‘Thanks.’ He smiles at her. She grins back and promptly trips over her own feet as she hands the bouquet over to him. ‘Watch out’, he calls, reaching over the counter to grab her elbow in an attempt to steady her.

‘Sorry! That’s so clumsy of me. Um – I’ve been meaning to ask you for some time, but would you like to grab coffee with me someday?’ she asks, cheeks flushing as pink as the flowers in his arms. 

‘Oh’, he says, dumbstruck. ‘I – uh’ 

She must read the hesitation in his face because she shakes her head self-deprecatingly, saving him from floundering awkwardly. ‘Sorry! I don’t know what came over me – please forget I ever said that!’ Then she bows and ushers him out of the store, waves away his apologies with a laugh and calls after him to ‘please come again!’ 

His mother fusses over him when he presents his bouquet of carnations to her, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek. ‘Why does it look like university is treating you so badly?

‘I’m fine, mum’, he tries to distract her with a hug, but she’s having none of that. 

‘Are you really, Keiji?’, his mother asks, lips pursed. ‘I know my son well enough to know he’s not sleeping well’. 

‘I try’, he offers, but he knows his excuse falls flat when she sniffs. He’s so irredeemably busy with school work and internship that sleep is practically the last item on his list of priorities and things to do and tasks at hand, but he knows if he breathes a word about the amount of work on his plate, his mother would nag him relentlessly until she’s convinced he’s taking care of himself again

So honed by years of dealing with Bokuto-san, he switches tactics to diversion. ‘So mum, tell me how auntie managed to talk Yuji-kun into going on blind dates?’ His mum brightens and immediately turns her mind to her favourite nephew’s dismal love life. 

But his mother insists on him staying over that night, so he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his old bedroom, in a bed that suddenly feels too small for the worries that adulthood is cramming into his head. He’s patient, counting the spaces between his breaths but sleep eludes him and he sits up, determined to sneak in more work at the very least.  

He tucks a pencil behind his ear, ready to get cracking on his thesis when he tilts his seat too far on the back two legs of his chair and loses his balance, falling onto the floor with a thump. ‘Damnit’, he curses quietly, hoping the noise doesn’t startle his mother awake, but from his vantage point on the floor, he can see the omamori he inexplicably refused to throw away on New Year’s Day hanging on the bars of his windowsill. 

‘What are you doing here’, he mutters, untying the charm and running his thumb along its fraying seams. The charm obviously does not respond - it’s an inanimate object after all, but for some reason, he slips it in his pocket when he returns to the dorm when morning comes. 

The frequency of his dreams starts to increase. 

He’s back in her body, curled up under a pine tree on a cool autumn day. 

‘I can’t believe you convinced me to spend an afternoon running around like a forest nymph when we could be studying to ace your exams’.  There is a tinge of disdain in his words because he  knows  her grades are better than decent, though they’d be better if only she’d spend more time on her books instead of flower fields. 

‘Aww, a nymph? Someone’s feeling extra poetic today’, she teases lightly. 

‘Don’t try distracting me from the fact that you really should be studying’, he insists, displeased. 

‘I do study’  she protests, but he hums disbelievingly, the spectre of Waseda’s devilishly difficult entrance exam looming in his mind. 

‘Not enough to get into a decent university at this rate.’

‘I don’t want to go to university, Keiji, I’ve tried telling you this before’, she sighs. 

‘You don’t?’ 

‘Nope’  she responds, popping the word in her mouth. ‘I just want to sell flowers to people someday, is that so bad? It’s simple - they make people happy, and that makes me happy in turn. If we only have a lifetime to spend on this earth, shouldn’t we pursue what truly brings us joy instead of dreams others impose on us?’

‘ I suppose that makes sense’, he says, sounding vaguely convinced.

‘Course it does’, she responds easily, a smile flickering in her voice. ‘I always make sense. Now. Let’s not squabble, it’s my turn to tell you a story today’. 

So he listens, enthralled despite himself, as she spins tales of the Kodama, tree spirits dwelling in the ancient forest, how her mother taught her to always offer a prayer to the gods before chopping down a tree - and if the tree bleeds, to back away because it means it has a Kodama living, breathing within it. 

‘Are they real?’  he asks her, when she finishes a tale of a  Kodama who assumed human form after falling in love with a maiden blessed with cherry blossoms in her cheeks.

‘Of course they are’  she laughs. ‘If you close your eyes and listen carefully, you can hear them sing. ’

He closes his eyes, but the forest remains eerily still. ‘ I don’t hear anything, ’ he says, disbelief colouring his tone. 

‘Maybe it’s because they know you don’t really believe in them yet.’

He wakes up with the scent of pine in his nose, the lingering touch of grass against the soles of his feet. 

‘Electricity is a fickle beast in this household, so the first thing you need to do when you come home is to light the fire in the irori. Even Toya-chan knows how to do that, and he’s eight!’  

He stares balefully at the sunken hearth lined with stone and filled with ash, situated right in the center of the old house.  ‘This is a fire hazard’, he tells her stubbornly. 

‘Fire is life, you spoilt city boy! It only becomes dangerous if you don’t respect it. Now come on, or you’ll end up freezing to death and I won’t be able to save you. I always keep a lighter in my pocket and in the store room there’s coal and if really necessary, some petrol I flinched from the petrol station – ‘

‘You better make sure the teachers don’t find your lighter and think you’ve been smoking – ‘ he interjects and she continues as if she doesn’t hear him. 

‘So you light the fire and hang the kettle from the iron hook, and voila! You can cook porridge or soup if electricity runs out and you can’t rely on the rice cooker or stove. And when the night is too cold to sleep in your room, you can drag your futon out here for warmth. It’s kinda nice, almost like camping. Now, let’s see you try lighting a fire yourself!’ 

Her fingers are thin and nimble, but they’re unfamiliar implements to him, so he fumbles with arranging the coal and scrap paper around damp wood. He has to resort to using a drip of petrol to coax the damp wood to ignite in flames but he counts it as a triumph anyway as fire dances in the sunken hearth.  

He can hear her cheer – ‘Congrats city boy!’ Ignoring the implied insult in her words, he smiles. 

He’s back in her skin again when her voice echoes in his mind. 

‘Y’know you’re not gonna be able to learn how to put on a bra if you don’t open your eyes when doing it right?’  she says, amusement ripe in her voice. ‘Every girl has tits, Keiji . If it makes you feel better, I’ve seen your dick ’. 

‘What?’ he yelps, eyes still stubbornly closed. 

‘How else was I supposed to use the urinals? Goodness, being a guy is so convenient when it comes to peeing, you just point and shoot - ’

‘Right, that’s too much information, thanks’, he huffs. 

‘Well, you’re gonna make me late for school if you don’t open your eyes’’, she sing songs, and he knows she’s banking on his reverence for punctuality and perfect attendance records to get him to look in the mirror, but he’s not sure it outweighs his mother’s lessons of being a gentleman.  

‘Keiji-kun ’, she says again, amused. ‘I do appreciate that you’re trying to protect my modesty, but those rules don’t really apply when we’re in a situation like this, you know? If it makes you feel better, I give you explicit permission to look at my breasts when strictly necessary.’

‘Can you not say it like that’, he grouses before cracking an eye open, somewhat persuaded, and somehow manages to snap the tiny hooks in place. ‘Bras are like torture devices’. 

‘Don’t I know it’, she chuckles.  ‘Be glad you only have to put up with it every once in a while’. 

He snorts, more comfortable once some semblance of her modesty is secured. ‘I’ll count my blessings then’. Twisting at the waist to zip up her skirt, his breath catches at a glimpse of freckles on her back in the mirror. He forgets he’s still standing in front of the mirror as his fingers idly ghost over the constellation, a spray of stardust on bare skin. 

‘Keiji ?’ she asks, confused. 

‘Sorry!’, he startles. ‘It’s just - I never noticed you had freckles on your back before.’

‘Yes - I’m aware I have them, and?’, she replies archly, and the irony that she’s completely fine with him staring at her breasts but not her back does not elude him, but he holds his tongue. 

‘They’re arranged in my favourite constellation’, he tells her honestly and he’s relived to hear her chuckle again. 

‘I’ll show you the real thing next time’, she promises, before switching seamlessly to berate him -  ‘And you can stop staring at my back now, we’re gonna be late for school! ’

The next day is spent wondering if he’s a creep for dreaming about half naked sixteen year old girls – even if there’s nothing remotely sexual about his dream. 

He sees her run through the woods like a fawn discovering spring for the first time, watches her come to a stop at an open clearing framed by trees. There is a shrine in the center of the clearing, cracked and covered in moss, but she approaches it reverently, dropping to her knees. 

‘There is old magic in this shrine’, she whispers, brushing leaves and branches away before laying her omamori down at the altar. ‘ Do you remember the wish you made? ’ 

‘I wished for more time - I got greedy and asked for yesterday to come again ’, he answers, voice hushed. 

‘And I wished for the exact opposite. I got impatient and asked tomorrow to arrive, as fast as it can ’, she replies, tilting her face up to the sun. 

‘I suppose that’s what happened ’, he says. ‘Our wishes got tangled up, and our bodies and souls got thrown through time and space’. 

‘Hm. Do you think we have souls, Keiji? ’ she asks him.

‘Yes  ’, he says, sounding perplexed. ‘What else would we be swapping?’  

‘What colour d’you think your soul is? ’ It’s a strange question, but he’s used to anticipating the unexpected from her. 

‘Blue. It reminds me of the summer sky ’, he replies.

‘Fitting’, she laughs with a cheeky grin on her face. ‘Since the sky is a star’s domain’. 

‘What about you’, he asks, so accustomed to ignoring her teasing about Bokuto-san. ‘What colour do you think your soul is?’

‘Yellow, I hope ’, she says dreamily. ‘It’s warmth and life - like flames lighting up wintry nights, or daffodils on the first day of spring’ .

He wonders if it’s a coincidence that the strange dreams hit him in full force right after he brings back the omamori. 

But Kenma’s right, he’s become strangely addicted to the narrative his dreams are showing him. It’s like the books he snuck under the covers at night, emerging bleary eyed in the morning because he was intent on seeing the story end. And if he’s being completely honest with himself, it makes him feel like that he - quiet, bookish Akaashi Keiji is the protagonist in the Ghibli movies that Bokuto-san makes him watch, so he doesn’t put up a fight against the dreams that re-invade his sleep.

Taglist: 

@1tooru @kageyamakock @animeflower26 @underrated-fruit-tarts-official @bongofrito

[starrynite7114]

everything is you: two

A/N: I would like to thank you all for the overwhelming support I’ve received for Everything is you! I didn’t think I would get so many likes and such, but I really appreciate it! Alena, Cruz and Angel are such a cute family! I look forward to sharing more with you all. This chapter has been done for some time, meaning last night when i was procrastinating instead of studying. I wanted to post this before my exam just so you all can enjoy this. Hopefully I don’t write angst again after my exam like I did last time. Anyways! Hope you all enjoy this update! <3

If you all ever want to discuss this fic or any other stories I have, please feel free! I love discussing stories! :D

everything is you

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CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL GIF MAKER

Alena walked in Vicky’s House, bringing in the groceries she got for the girls. She didn’t do it often, but when she could, she did a Costco run for the girls so they were fully stocked. Vicky watched as Alena brought the stuff in, chatting with one of her girls. She always wondered who Angel saved in a past life that he landed Alena. No questions asked, she always helped them out along with the other Mayans.

“Lena, mija, you don’t have to do this. You and your mother always spoil us.” Vicky told her as she watched her put the groceries away. 

“It’s okay, we don’t mind helping.” Alena smiled, putting the last of the groceries away.

Myrna rolled her eyes, not a big fan of the saint, as she called her. She didn’t understand why everyone liked her so much, she was obviously faking it. No one could be this nice. And why was Angel hanging on to her every word? If Angel spent one night with her, this fake bitch would be nothing. If all he needed was someone to play mommy to his son, she would gladly do it. He was a cute kid, she could overlook that he wasn’t hers.

“Did you get the right milk this time?” Myrna questioned earning a look from some of the girls and Vicky herself. “What? Some people prefer fat free milk. Not everyone can be as skinny as her.” 

Alena wasn’t exactly sure why Myrna was always hostile towards her, but she figured it was due to her infatuation with Angel. She told her time and time again that she wasn’t with Angel. Myrna would just scoff and roll her eyes. But Alena wasn’t trying to please her, her mother always said that not everyone would like you, and Alena didn’t mind. She didn’t need Myrna’s approval.

Kill them with your kindness, her mother would advise her.

“I bought three different kinds just in case.” Alena looked over at Vicky. “Is there anything else?”

“Alena, I already told you, you don’t have to do this. Riz helps us out enough.” Vicky wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leading her away from Myrna’s poor attitude. 

“I know, but you all help with Cruz so much and when my mother and I didn’t have a place to stay you welcomed us.” Alena’s father left her family a few years back. Her mother didn’t work then, counting on her father for everything. They couldn’t exactly pay for rent so Vicky graciously opened her home to them. 

“We’re family mija, of course I did.” She kissed her cheek. “Where’s your husband?”

Alena blushed. Vicky always referred to Angel as her husband, even though she knew that was far from the truth. Much like everyone in their inner circle, Vicky was impressed that Alena took Cruz in. She knew of Alena’s crush on Angel and his heroic ways when it came to her, but adopting a child was something different. She admired her and when she saw them now, it was for the best. Cruz was Alena’s son, no questions asked. 

“Angel is at the clubhouse. I’m going there now.” Alena replied. “I hope the milk choices are good, if not I can always bring more next time.”

“Mija, Myrna can suck a dick. It’s fine, we appreciate everything you’ve given us.”

“Okay, I’ll be going now. I’ll come by next week and bring Cruz.”

“Okay mija, be careful on your way there.” She missed her cheek and watched as she got back inside the car. 

Myrna came up behind Vicky, thanking god for Alena’s departure.

“I don’t know why you fall for her act. She’s not as innocent as she appears.” Myrna scoffed.

“Listen here, I tolerate you as a favor to my comadre. You keep running your mouth on my goddaughter and I will be forced to kick you out.” Vicky narrowed her eyes at the woman before her. “Don’t think you're special, I have other girls that can do your job. If Angel ever found out what you say about his wife, I’m sure you wouldn’t have a mouth to speak.”

“She’s not his wife.”

“Then run your mouth to him, see what he does.”

Myrna rolled her eyes watching as Vicky walked away. She would get Angel. She was certain a prude like Alena wasn’t doing shit for him. 

Once he got a taste of her, Alena would be a distant memory.

==========

Alena drove up to the clubhouse, finding Angel, Gilly and Coco outside. They were watching EZ wash their bikes. Alena laughed, shaking her head. As soon as Angel saw her car, he stood up, throwing his cigarette to the ground. If he could help it, he never smoked around Alena or Cruz since they both had asthma.

“Hermana, why didn’t you tell us you were making a grocery run, we would have come with you.” Coco said as Alena opened the trunk.

“I just need a break, some time alone. Angel and Cruz drove me crazy last night.” Alena teased, elbowing Angel.

“So funny,” he kissed her and picked up a few beer cases to bring inside the clubhouse. Alena blushed at Angel’s gesture. She still wasn’t used to it because they technically weren’t together. She really wished he wouldn’t so she didn’t have to further confuse herself. It was fine, she knew where they stood.

“How you doing hermana? I feel like Angel keeps you all to himself and Angel Jr.” Gilly commented as he watched EZ and Angel bring the groceries in.

“You fuckers gonna help?” Angel asked.

“Naw, you got it handled.” Coco chuckled. 

“I’m good, work and well you know the boys. I just came from Vicky’s.” 

Coco frowned. “I thought I told you that we don’t like it when you go there without at least one of us.” He knew of Myrna and preferred if someone was with Alena whenever she went over. Myrna was a bitch for no reason since Angel didn’t want to give her the time of day.

“It was fine, I can handle her.” Alena waved her off.

“Handle who?” Angel questioned.

“My mom, I was telling Coco about my mom and how she’s been trying to set me up. He ran into my mom the other day.” Alena lied so well at times, it impressed Coco.

Angel rolled his eyes. “Can you believe Michelle found ten matches for her?”

Coco chuckled. “Prime real estate hermano.” They watched as Angel walked away. “I know you can handle her, she’s just a bitch.”

“I’ve handled worst.” Alena shrugged. “Don’t worry about me, I promise I’ll be fine.”

Coco nodded his head. “Alright, but if she even so much looks at you wrong, you tell me.”

“You tell us.” Gilly corrected.

“Yes, I got it.” Alena laughed. She made her way inside the clubhouse and was greeted by Bishop, Taza and Creeper. 

“Preciosa, you spoil us.” Bishop greeted her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s nothing,” she waved him off. “You’re family.”

“So since we’re family, you coming to the BBQ tonight?” Taza questioned after he greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Is your husband going to let you go? We all know how protective he is.” Creeper teased once he pulled away from her.

“Funny.” Angel joined in. “The wind isn’t so bad today, maybe you should come over Alena.” Alena has asthma and Angel was always cautious when it came to her. When it was too windy, along with the dust and dirt of the desert, it triggered Alena’s asthma. Angel preferred for her to be safe at home to assure she didn’t have an attack.

“I have work tomorrow, I should really sleep early.” Since Alena was at Santo Padre, she had to leave at seven in the morning to make sure she reached the office by nine. It wasn’t ideal, but she liked giving the full two days to Cruz and Angel. 

“Come on Alena, we haven’t seen you in a while.” Taza insisted.

“I saw you guys last week?” She laughed.

Her relationship with the Mayans were due to Angel, at least the younger ones and the older ones were due to her father, who used to work with Bishop and Taza. She’s known them for quite some time and unlike her, she kept in touch with her father. When Angel first informed them that Alena was adopting Cruz, Taza and Bishop were worried. They knew of her departure for Europe and how it was going to happen in the next few years, she just didn’t tell Angel. But they knew that when she adopted Cruz, Paris was out of the table. They saw how Alena immersed herself in Cruz’s life. Moving in with Angel, marrying him, assuring that Angel would surely get his son. It was admirable, but it worried them.

This could just lay for so long before the rug would be pulled from under them. They didn’t think Angel would find anyone new, but Alena? Well she was a coin toss. 

“We can’t miss you now?” Bishop questioned.

“No, it’s not that.” Alena sighed. “Fine, I’ll come.”

Angel wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards himself. “See, told you guys you could win her over.”

Alena playfully elbowed Angel making him laugh. “You’re so cute when you get mad.”

“You’re a dick.”

“But I’m your dick.”

==========

Angel parked Alena’s car right in front of the bikes. He was going to take his bike, but he knew Alena hated driving in the dark. Something about how she’s super blind. But he indulged her since he would do anything for her. Angel waited for her in front of her car, holding his hand out. While everyone knew they were, whatever they were, Angel had to make sure everyone knew in case there were newbies who would try and make a move on Alena. 

Myrna watched as Angel led Alena to Bishop and Taza, who greeted her warmly. She rolled her eyes.

“Fucking Saint.” She murmured under her breath, taking a sip of her beer. 

Maxine, who was right next to Myrna, rolled her eyes at the girl’s nastiness. “I don’t know why you’re so hell bent on Angel. Ever since Cruz came, he hasn’t slept with anyone. I’m the last person he slept with and he called me Alena.” Maxine remembered that night. Angel didn’t even apologize, which she figured he didn’t really need to. Regardless, after that night, Angel hasn’t really tried sleeping with any of them. He would hang out and flirt, but everyone knew, he came home to Cruz and they would both FaceTime Alena.

They were hooked on her and it was kind of cute. 

Myrna was just bitter since Angel never warmed up to her.

“Is she married to him?” Myrna questioned watching as Angel sat down with her at the picnic table. She stuck out like a sore thumb and didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong with Angel.

“Yeah, everyone knows that.” Maxine scoffed. “It may not be traditional, but don’t let Angel hear you say that.”

“Why is he so attached to her? I’m sure she doesn’t give him shit.” 

Maxine honestly didn’t want to be a part of this conversation anymore. The Mayans were protective over her and even one bad word towards her, they lunged at you.

“Just leave it alone Myrna.” Maxine left her alone, deciding to join Creeper instead. She was safer in their vicinity.

Myrna watched as Angel walked away from Alena. 

“Perfect.” She smirked devilishly. Angel would be here by the end of the night. 

Alena watched as Angel disappeared in the clubhouse, leaving her at the picnic table so he could get some food. The wetness was what shocked her first, causing her to blink a few times. She looked down and saw the dark wet spots on her shirt.

“Oops, my bad.” She looked over and saw Myrna with no ounce of regret on her face. The woman smirked down at her. “I tripped.”

“It happens.” Alena stood up to go to the bathroom inside, but Myrna grabbed her arm, turning her to face her. “Can I help you?”

“Drop the act, we all know you’re not fucking innocent.” Myrna spat out. “You think this is going to keep Angel by your side? He warms up my bed everyday, you're not here honey.” That was a lie. Angel never even slept with any of the girls at Vicky’s much to her dismay, but if it would drive this bitch away from Angel, so be it. The smile on her face grew when she saw the flash of hurt in Alena’s eyes.

“Do you want a medal for that? Angel is free to do as he pleases. If you excuse me, I have to clean up your mess.” Alena was heated. Who did this woman think she was? She didn’t care if she slept with Angel. It stung, but Alena wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t naive either. 

Bishop, Taza and Creeper saw what was going on and was on high alert to see if Myrna was going to cross the line. They knew of her crush on Angel and it was the reason she disliked Alena so much. But they hoped she was smart enough to not do anything when Angel was right inside the clubhouse. They watched as Angel came out of the clubhouse. Angel saw Myrna in front of Alena and immediately placed the food on the table when he saw how upset Alena looked.

“Stay away from Angel, we both know he just keeps you around cause you were stupid enough to play mommy to his kid. Anyone can do that.” Myrna scoffed. “I can play mommy to Cruz, so why won’t you run along and stay in San Diego. Angel doesn’t need you. Why would he ever pick your chinky ass when he could be with me? Someone who could please him compared to your skin and bones.”

Angel stood behind Myrna, hearing every word she said. Alena looked up at Angel and she saw the anger in his eyes. Myrna saw that Alena looked beyond her and felt the heat radiating behind her.

She swallowed a ball as she looked back.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Angel was fuming. Who the fuck did she think she was to talk to Alena in that way? “I know you didn’t just fucking insult my wife.” Alena was going to correct him, but she knew why he referred to her as such. Angel wore a ring on his left fourth finger, and people never questioned him. They saw the kid and didn’t ask questions. And they also saw him with Alena often and at his behest wore a ring as well.

Their relationship was complex. Didn’t fit the social norms.

And they did get married, they had to keep the act going. But, after five years, they could get divorce since they wouldn’t investigate any further. 

“Angel, hey, I didn’t know you were there.” Myrna had never seen this side of Angel before and she was frightened. She knew she fucked up.

“Evidently you didn’t.” Angel had heard that Myrna had a crush on him, but he never gave her the time of day. He also heard she was always rude to Alena, but he would like to think Alena would tell him such things so he could address it. Then he realized now that it was Alena and she was most likely saving the girl’s neck from being wrung by him. “Who the fuck do you think you are speaking to her like that?”

“Is it not true? If you need a bed warmer Angel, I can keep your bed warm. I can take care of your kid too.” Myrna wasn’t going to back down. It was already out in the open.

“Stay the fuck away from Alena if you know what’s good for you.” Angel just smirked, but he was hardly amused. He walked over to Alena, shoulder checking Myrna as he passed, and looked down at her white shirt, which had blotches of brown spots due to a drink obviously being spilled on her. “She spilled that shit on you?” He questioned, inspecting her now to make sure Myrna didn’t physically harm her. 

Alena felt everyone watching them, her anxiety increasing, hating everyone’s eyes on them. She pushed Angel’s hands away, further upsetting him. “I’m fine, it’s okay, it’s just soda and alcohol.” She waved him off. “I’ll go home, I’ll pick Cruz up from pops. I have work tomorrow anyway.”

Angel sighed. He finally got Alena to come and hang out with them then this stupid bitch had to ruin it for them. “Let’s go, I’m not staying if you’re not.”

“No, it’s okay, just stay. Hang out with your brothers.” Alena shook her head, not wanting to cut Angel’s evening short. “You don’t have to be so mean to Myrna, especially if you sleep with her when I’m not here.”

“You fucking think I sleep with her?” Angel gave her an incredulous look. He looked back and she was still there, annoying Angel further. “She just insulted you and you’re defending her?”

“She told me you did. No judgement, you’re single, technically.” Alena heard Angel’s words from the previous day. She wasn’t sure why Angel always made it seem like she was naive and didn’t know he had needs. It was kind of obnoxious. “She’s just mean because she likes you. Can EZ drop you off? Or he can drop me off and I’ll leave my car with you.”

Angel cussed under his breath before he bent over and kissed Alena. Myrna gasped and threw her drink to the ground, leaving the two. The cheers from the people in the yard broke Alena from her trance of thinking how good Angel’s lips felt and pulled away.

“What was that for?” Alena questioned.

“You wouldn’t stop talking nonsense so I kissed you.” He licked his lips, slightly adjusting his jeans since Alena always got him so fucking hard. He hated kissing her because the lasting effects on him were strong. But he had to, just so that bitch would get the hint. “I got an extra shirt inside the clubhouse, you want to change to that?”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll just go home Angel.”

“Prospect, watch our food.” Angel dragged Alena inside the clubhouse and back to his room. Once inside, he closed the door and rummaged his drawers for an extra shirt. He handed her the shirt and waited for her to change.

“Can you turn around?”

Angel chuckled. “For what? I’ve seen it all.”

“Angel.” Alena whined.

“Okay, jeez, I’ll cover my eyes.” Angel placed his hands over his eyes, trying his best not to snicker at her ridiculous idea. He heard her shuffle, cracking his fingers open and seeing Alena’s back, putting his fingers together again. “You done?”

“Yes.”

Angel moved his hands and whistled. “You always look good in my clothes.” He gave Alena one of his white t-shirt, nothing special, but he loved seeing Alena in his clothing.

“Shut up.” She blushed, playfully hitting his stomach. 

They made their way back outside and sat back down next to EZ. Angel sat beside Alena, sharing the plate of food he got for them.

“Angel, it’s about to be the fifth year anniversary of me adopting Cruz. I was wondering if we should start the divorce process too?” Alena asked him, making EZ spit out his beer and Angel shuffle in his seat.

“Divorce? You two got fucking married?” EZ was never told that Alena and Angel went through the marriage. He knew they fabricated that they were engaged, but he didn’t know they actually went through with the marriage.

“Angel didn’t tell you?” Alena wasn’t surprised. The marriage was a farce so it’s not like he had to tell his younger brother. “Oh, well, yeah we did. Just to keep it as real as possible. But we always planned on getting divorce a few years after since they wouldn’t be checking on us anymore.”

“Alena, can you please get me a beer?” Angel requested. 

“Sure.” 

Alena left the two brothers and as soon as she was out of earshot, EZ kicked his brother under the table.

“The fuck was that for?”

“You don’t plan on divorcing her, do you now?” EZ rolled his eyes. “You twos relationship has always been fucking weird, but this is ridiculous Angel. You don’t have feelings for her right? You’re not in denial? Let her go.”

“Stay out of it Ezekiel.” He looked around making sure Alena wasn’t here to hear anything. “This works out well for myself and Alena. We don’t need to get a divorce. It’s tax purposes anyway. We’re good with what we have.”

“What happens if she meets someone?”

Angel froze. That idea always frightened him. What if Alena did meet someone? What happens then? But then he realized that Alena would never leave. She was too invested in Cruz and in him.

“Not even a worry.”

Alena came back and handed Angel a beer. She got one for EZ as well as she sat back down beside Angel. 

“So, yeah, should I start the divorce proceedings? Mr. Johnson said he would handle it for us.”

“You’ve been inquiring about our divorce? Didn’t know you wanted to get away that badly sunshine.” Angel shoved more food in his mouth so he didn’t say something he would regret. He was slightly irritated that Alena had asked her boss about their divorce. 

He had no plans of divorcing her. Their system worked, why change it?

“No, it’s not that.” She noted that she called him sunshine. He was annoyed. “I just want to make it easier for you.”

“Always a helper.” Angel shoved food in his mouth again.

EZ was enjoying this exchange. 

‘Not interested my ass.’ EZ thought to himself.

“Lena! Shots!” Coco came out of nowhere, placing a shot glass in front of Alena. 

“No, it’s okay.” She turned to Angel who wasn’t even looking at her and just eating. She didn’t think he was that hungry since they ate at Felipe’s, but maybe he got hungry again. Angel could be a bottomless pit at times.

“Come on, you hardly drink with us.” Riz egged on as he poured the tequila in the glass.

Alena gave them a small smile as she gave in.

“There you go!” Coco cheered. “Cheers preciosa.” He clinked their glasses together, downing the shot along with Alena. Her face scrunched up at the burn, but gave them a thumbs up. “Another!”

Angel looked over then. Alena was leaning on his side, waiting for Coco to pour her another one. He moved his arm so that his arm could be wrapped around her middle while she laid her head back on him. 

“Sorry.” Alena sat up.

“You’re good cielo.” He kept her close to him. “Careful, you know you don’t handle liquor well.”

“I know just one more shot.” 

She and Coco took another shot. Alena gave her glass to EZ so he could use it. She did her customary two shots, she was good for the day.

Coco took out his box of cigarettes, taking a stick out. 

“Hey, don’t smoke her, you know her condition.” Angel scolded.

“Shit my bad Lena.”

“No it’s okay, I can take one cigarette session, you don’t have to move cause of me.” Alena noticed Angel’s arm were still around her as he ate. His forearm rested on her lap, his fingers playing with the hem of her skirt. 

“Move Coco.” Angel left no room for argument. 

Coco waved off Alena and went to smoke with Riz and Gilly. 

“Bet you’re red.” Angel teased.

“Alcohol makes me hot.” She argued. 

“We’ll see what else makes you hot later.”

==========

Angel and Alena made it home, deciding to keep Cruz at Felipe’s since it was late. Alena did her nightly skin routine before making her way to the bed, finding Angel asleep on his side. She shook her head, too many beers and now she had to take care of Angel. The rest of the night ran smoothly, Myrna was out of sight and out of mind. 

She walked over to Angel, taking off his boots for him. 

She hesitated to take off Angel’s belt and jeans, but it would be so uncomfortable to sleep in jeans. She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning his jeans. She was startled when she felt Angel’s hand on hers. Looking up at him, she saw that he was watching her.

“You okay? I just didn’t want you to sleep with your jeans on.” Alena moved away but Angel pulled her back towards him. 

He sat up, letting her stand in between his legs. His fingers drifted under her shirt, knowing she didn’t have any bra on. He ran his finger under her breast, causing her breath to hitch.

“Angel, let’s go to bed.” Alena tried to dissuade him but Angel already moved up her breast, his thumb running over her nipple. He placed a kiss on her neck pulling her closer to him. 

“Let me just feel you.” Angel pleaded as his other hand went inside her pajamas, dancing on top of her underwear before slipping inside.

“Angel,” Alena whined as Angel rubbed circles around her clit.

“You always have me so hard querida. Mirame,” he commanded as she looked at him, her cheeks were flushed. He groaned seeing just how satisfied she looked with his actions.

Her hands landed on his thighs, squeezing it as she bent over resting her forehead on his shoulder. Angel slipped a finger inside her, making Alena moan. He removed his hands, letting Alena breathe. Picking her up, he placed her on the bed, kneeling in between her legs.

Alena could never say no to Angel. Have you seen the man? It was fucking difficult. But much like everything else, she knew this was just a random fuck, which they’ve had over the last few years. He most likely just didn’t want to go to Vicky’s to prove a point.

His fingers grasped the top of her pants, pulling it down along with her underwear. Alena always wore his shirt to bed, something Angel fucking basked on. She looked so small in his shirt. He was going to keep his shirt on because Angel was a possessive man, especially when it came to her. He may not be ready to realize his feelings, but Alena was his wife and he intended for it to stay that way. Angel took off his shirt along with his jeans and boxers.

“Gonna worship you mi cielo. Like always.” He kissed Alena’s legs, making his way to her thighs. She watched him, waiting for his next move. Angel loved it when Alena watched him, her eyes drove him fucking crazy. Just how innocent she looked, that doe eyed look. “Mouth or fingers?”

“Both.”

Angel chuckled, rubbing his finger down her slit, coating it with her wetness before slipping it in. “Always so tight for me.” He moved you so his lips were over her clit, sucking it into his mouth making Alena arch her back, letting out a mewl of pleasure. “Fuck cielo, you look so fucking good. You think I would ever touch that girl when I have you?”

Alena didn’t want to fucking talk about Myrna, she couldn’t even fucking think straight, but Angel always made her feel so good. She wished it was only between him and her, but she knew that couldn’t possibly be.

“Dime mi cielo, piensas que la queiro.” Alena knew how to speak Spanish since Vicky taught her at a young age due to her friendship with her mother. “Solo te queiro a ti.”

Alena had a love-hate relationship when it came to being intimate with Angel. Just last night he said he wasn’t interested in her and now, he was whispering all these things to her. 

It made her so wet.

“Fuck baby you got even wetter.” Angel removed his fingers, lapping at her pussy, spreading her lips with his fingers. “Let me hear you, is daddy making you feel good?”

“Yes daddy,” Alena gripped the sheets as Angel continued to eat her out. Her stomach coiled up, that familiar feeling was coming again. She threw her head back as she came, Angel’s name escaping her lips like a mantra.

Angel kisses his way up to her lips, Alena catching her breath. “Want me to get your inhaler?”

“You’re such a prick.” She playfully pushed him, making him laugh. He kissed her before he hovered over her.

“I know you like my dick.”

Alena laughed, but she stopped midway and moaned as Angel entered her. Resting his forehead on her shoulders, he wrapped one of her legs around his waist, letting Alena adjust to him. 

“Can I move baby?”

Alena nodded. “Please move.”

Angel thrusted in and out of her, already so close to coming. The last time he had sex was four months ago and it was with Alena. Otherwise, his fucking hand helped him release his stress. She was so tight and his hand could never compare to Alena’s pussy.

“You’re the only girl for me cielo, you always feel so fucking good.” Alena was leaving scratches all over his back, the stretch she felt was just too fucking good. How easily he moved in and out of her, it was driving her crazy. She tightened up around him, making Angel groan. “You like hearing that mi dulce, that you’re the only one for me. It’s always going to be me and you, Alena. You’re my fucking wife.”

“Daddy, please go faster.” She pleaded.

“Damn baby girl, I can feel you tightening up around daddy’s cock, you ready to cum?” Angel rubbed her clit, straightening his back as he quicker his pace. He kept her leg around his waist, spreading her further. He watched as his cock went in and out of Alena’s pussy, moaning at the sight.

“Mmmm Daddy, fuck.” Alena cried out as she came around Angel’s dick, Angel following after her, spilling his seed inside her. 

He slid out of her, making Alena moan due to how sensitive she felt. He got up to get a warm cloth to clean Alena up. He cleaned her, tossing the cloth to the side before sliding inside the comforter. He turned on the television, turning off the lights. He left it at some random channel before he pulled Alena against him. 

Alena kept her back turned towards Angel, the confusion even worse now. She had to talk to Angel. But at the same time, he just had to release some stress and she did as well. It was no big deal. 

It was fine.

This was how it’s always been. 

It was fine.

[leossmoonn]

Tongue Tied [Peter Parker]

masterlist

pairing - Peter Parker x fem!reader

type - fluff, lil angst 

note - hey, guys! this is my first peter parker imagine. enjoy! also i know this sucks lol i promise ill have another peter one out to reedem myself.

summary - peter is in love with you and struggles to ask you out.

warnings - harrassment. i just wanted to put it as a warning in case.

P.S. also im gonna use random names for the sake of the story. itll make sense when you read lol

————

*gif isnt mine*

Peter stared in awe as you solved the problem at the board.

“She’s so smart,” he muttered.

“And you are so whipped, bro,” his friend, MJ, laughed.

Peter glared at her, his cheeks burning a bright red. “I am not.”

“You kinda are,” his other friend, Ned, said.

Peter ignored them and kept staring at you. You turned back from the board, putting the cap on to your expo marker.

“Thank you, Miss L/n. Take notes, guys. This type of problem will be on your final exam,” the teacher said.

You smiled and went back to your seat, which happened to be next to Peter.

“Hey, Y-y/n,” he said. You turned to him, your eyes locking with his.

“Hey, Pete,” you smiled.

He stared at you again. He couldn’t help it. He was just so in love with you. He didn’t know if it was the way you giggled after he told a joke, the fact that you’re popular, but you still became friends with him and his friends, or that you always knew the answer to each question in class. You were just this amazing, beautiful, intelligent girl to him.

“Hey, Pete, you’re drooling again,” MJ nugded his shoulder.

You chuckled as Peter apologized, obviously embarrassed.

“It’s okay. So, what’s up?” You asked.

“I just wanted to, uh, say good job on solving that problem,” he said.

You smiled, “Thank you. I’ve been studying like crazy.”

“You don’t need to study. You’re the smartest girl I know,” Peter smiled.

“Thank you, Peter. But I think MJ is the smartest one here,” you said. MJ scoffed and shook her head.

“For once, I’m going to have to agree with Parker,” MJ said.

You widened your eyes. You were genuinely surpised. You thought MJ was the smartest girl you’ve ever met.

“Thanks, MJ,” you smiled.

“No problem, Y/n,” she smiled back.

The bell rang, signaling class was over and it wss time for lunch.

“See you guys later,” you waved and left for the cafeteria to see some other friends.

“You gonna ask her out soon?” Ned asked.

Peter scoffed while putting his binders into his backpack. “Who said I was gonna ask her out?”

“No one, we just assumed you were,” MJ shrugged.

“Well, no. She doesn’t like me like that, anyways. Plus, doesn’t she have a thing with Flash?” Peter asked.

“No, I think she has a thing with Aaron Foster, though,” MJ smirked.

Peter groaned. Aaron Foster was one of the football players at Midtown. He knew he could never compete with that, even if he was Spider-Man. But you didn’t know that, therefore, the Peter you knew didn’t have a chance with you.

“Hey, but I think she likes you!” Ned tried to reassure his friend.

“How do you know?”

“Well, she always laughs at your jokes and she chose to become friends with you instead of just staying with her other friends,” Ned explained.

“That proves nothing. You can tell a girl likes someone by their body langauge. They’ll look you in the eye, lick their lips, lean in when talking to you, and put their hand on your arm,” MJ said.

Peter and Ned looked at MJ, shocked.

“What? I’m your friend and a girl. I know you like Y/n a lot and I can tell she’s a good person, so I don’t mind helping,” MJ shrugged.

“Wow, thanks,” Peter chuckled.

“No problem.”

“Well, Y/n does engage eye contact with you. She also leans in a lot,” Ned said.

“Yeah?” Peter smiled, hopeful. MJ and Ned nodded truthfully.

Peter kept smiling all the way to the cafeteria before he saw you with your group of friends. Aaron was also there, too.

You were talking to one of your friends, Maci, about your plans this weekend. Aaron put his arm around you, pulling you closer. You cringed and moved away.

Contrary to popular belief, you actually didn’t like Aaron. You two happened to go on a few dates, but he had the personality of a wall. He didn’t spark any interest for you at all, but you wanted to be nice and said yes to the dates. Ever since, he’s been acting like he owns you. You hated that and were planning to talk to him about it soon. You didn’t want to be treated like an object, you wanted to be treated like a human being. Perhaps Peter Parner could do that for you.

Yes, you did like Peter Parker. No one really knew but you. You had liked him from the first time you saw him. You liked him even more when he helped you in your engineering class. He gave you advice on how to make energy with a potato, and you thought he was so cute and so sweet. He was always there to help you and always up to hang out.

You couldn’t help but have a crush on him. However, you thought he didn’t like you. You thought he liked MJ.

While talking to Maci, you noticed Peter staring at you. You smiled and waved, making him blush and wave back shyly. You chuckled to yourself. He was adorable.

“Hey, is that Parker kid bothering you?” Aaron asked.

“No, Aaron. He’s my friend,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’ll beat him up if he think he can look at my girl,” he growled.

“Aaron, can I talk to you for a second?” You said.

He nodded and you stood up from the lunch table, leading him to an empty hallway. You rested against the lockers, ready to tell Aaron he needed to back off when he kissed you. You put your hands on his chest and pushed him back with all your force.

He stumbled back, frowning.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“One, I am not your baby. Two, we aren’t dating and I don’t want to. I like someone else,” you said.

Aaron looked at you, confused. “What?”

“Sorry, Aaron. I had fun on the dates. But this just won’t work out. Find a girl who likes you, okay?” You smiled kindly.

Aaron just nodded, obviously not used to girls turning him down. You sighed and went back the cafeteria. You sat back down and finished your food. You got up to throw your trash and put your tray away when Peter came up to you.

“Hey, you okay? I saw you walk off with Aaron,” Peter said.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Pete. I’m gonna throw away my trash,” you said.

“No!” He exclaimed. You raised your brows, confused.

“Let me do that for you,” he smiled and took the tray out from your hands. “Stay here,” he added.

You laughed and nodded, sitting back down. Peter came back shortly, holding something behind his back.

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” He asked.

You nodded and followed him outside the cafeteria.

“I wanted to ask you a question, even though I know you are dating Aaron,” he started, but you interrupted.

“I’m not dating Aaron.”

“What?” Peter asked. “Yeah, we went on a few dates, but he has no personality,” you shrugged. “Plus, I like someone else.”

“Oh,” his face fell.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You tilted your head. You locked eyes with him, making him nervous.

“I.. I um... I wanted to ask you something,” he started again. You nodded.

“Since you’re not dating anyone I-I was wondering if uh... well...”

You smiled. He looked so cute while stuttering.

“I was wondering if you would wannagoonadatewithme?” He blurted.

Your eyes widened. “What?” You asked. You wanted to make sure you heard him correctly before answering.

“I was wondering if you’d, uh, go on a d...date with m-me?” He asked again.

You giggled and nodded your head. “Yes.”

Peter grinned from ear-to-ear. “Really?”

“Yes! I’ve liked you ever since I’ve met you,” you confessed.

“Wow, me, too,” he smiled.

“Awesome,” you laughed. “So, when’re you picking me up?”

“For what?”

“For the date, silly,” you said, poking his arm.

“Oh, yeah! Right,” he blushed. “Tonight, at 6?”

“Deal. See you tonight, Peter,” you said and leaned in to kiss his cheek. You pulled away and started to walk away, turning your head back to him to wink.

Ned and MJ came out from a corned, jumping up and down and screaming.

“Parker got the girl!” MJ exclaimed.

“Yeah, I did,” Peter smiled. He couldn’t wait for your date.

————

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[pinkjeanist]

“atop a hill of gold” || shouta aizawa

desc.: A pro hero comes to your shop for four shots of espresso after a long night. He leaves with just that, and then some. [1.6k words]

a/n: this fic has the soft energy that this song has. i named the fic after it but the title was weird so i named it after one of the lines. it’s from one of my favorite lgbt+ movies so theres that. i also havent written for aizawa so sorry if it’s eh. [navigation]

Coffee shops were for people who woke up at five in the morning, people who depended on coffee, and people who depended on coffee because they had to get up at five in the morning. They were also for the occasional tea-drinker, though as exam season rolled around, you were seeing significantly less of those people, or you watched those people become addicted to caffeine just to keep up with their studies. 

It wasn’t often you saw heroes when you were working, though. The shop was nestled between two taller buildings, and the only people who noticed it at all without a map were the shop’s regulars. So when the pro hero Eraserhead sulked through the doors that fateful early morning, you couldn’t help but be surprised.

The sun had just peeked over the buildings across the street, the last of the storm clouds from the night before making way for its grandeur, and the morning dew still clung fresh to the window. The unfamiliar man that had walked through the doors seemed so strangely out of place. Black hair, black outfit, a white scarf wrapped loosely around his neck atop of slouched shoulders. His whole being collided with the golden glow of the morning seeping past the hanging vines outside and above the shop window, as if he were the parallel to dawn. 

You recognized him, but you hadn’t seen much of him on the news- mostly because he worked primarily at night, and because he almost always managed to hide his face from the cameras with the cover of darkness. Because of this, you weren’t expecting him to be so handsome, nor so thoroughly exhausted-looking. The fatigue rolled off him in waves and nearly put everyone else in the shop to sleep. 

Your back straightened as he approached the counter. “Can I just get a black coffee? Four shots, please.”

“Ah. The worst combination of liquids in history for the best effects. What size?” 

“Large.”

“Of course,” You smiled. You put his order into the register. “You look like you’ve had a long night. No time for rest?”

“I’ve got classes to teach,” The hero sighed. You gave him his price and he handed over his money. 

You turned and started on his drink, but spoke before he could walk away from the counter: “Is it too weird to ask what you were doing all night?” 

“Uh...a little, but I’m used to weird,” He replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It was just a villain. Took all night to track him down.”

“Wait, are you talking about that ‘Shadow Dweller’ dude? The one with the weird little mask?”

“Yeah, that one. It’s kind of hard to arrest someone who can just vanish into the shadows. Took a lot longer than I’d hoped but there’s not much else I could have done, I suppose.”

“His quirk kind of makes it seem like cheating. Pretty OP if you ask me.”

“I mean, you can’t really cheat at life. That’s just his quirk.”

“Look, I’m just saying, if I were a villain, I’d be throwing my manifesto pamphlets from the rooftops instead of sneaking around at night all the time. Kind of a dick move on his part.” The hero chuckled at that. You finished his shots and poured them in before adding some coffee from the pot. You added a few drops of honey to make it a bit more bearable to drink. 

A thought suddenly popped into your head with a heavy feeling on your chest. “Oh, fuck, you get a hero discount. I completely forgot, I’m sorry-” You apologized, hurrying to the register and setting his finished coffee on the counter in front of him, but he stepped forward to stop you.

“No, no, don’t- I don’t really care for the discount. Actually…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet again, taking an unknown amount of cash and sliding it into the jar by the register. “...I should probably give you more.”

“Uh-” Your eyes widened at the numbers on the bills in the jar. “-I mean- thank you so much, but why?”

He looked at you as if you should know. You gripped the edge of the counter. “It was nice to have a conversation with someone after a long night. And I had some cash to spare.”

“I don’t normally get tips for chatting with people. Usually I get some from old ladies when I put extra whipped cream on their drink.” He chuckled at that, and you smiled at the sound. “But really, it isn’t necessary. I don’t think I can accept this much money, as much as I’ve enjoyed talking to you-”

“-but you will. I’ve got no reason to take it back.” He sipped at his coffee and grimaced. You wondered how it didn’t scorch his tongue. “God, that tastes like shit…”

“I warned you,” You laughed, nearly giggling. He took another sip and seemed a bit more tolerant of it, that time. Your grip on the counter tightened as you leaned forward on it. You didn’t mean to look him up and down after that, but the side of you that was going crazy thirsting over him at the moment hoped that he noticed. “You should really try to find some time to rest. I can tell you do this often, and it’s really not healthy.” 

“I think I can go a few sleepless nights if it means keeping villains off the streets. And I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.” You met his eye, and he seemed intent on keeping your gaze as he took another drink. You swallowed. Yes. He was really handsome. “I mean, if it ends up getting in the way of your teaching, that could reflect back on your students. Where do you teach, anyway?” 

He leaned his side on the counter and took another sip. “Yuuei.” 

You stuttered for an answer. “Oh- like. Like the school? For heroes?”

“That’s the one. You seem surprised.” 

“Oh, it was just like, uhm...a dream of mine to go there. When I was a kid, I mean. But I never got a quirk, and I started drinking coffee when I was a teen, so...thought I’d just get a business degree and do what I love. Or what I’m addicted to, anyway.” Most people gave you a pitiful look when you told them that little story, but he gave you a look of understanding, oddly enough, though you weren’t sure what someone with a quirk could understand about someone without one. 

He looked down at his drink. “I thought you might have had some sort of manipulation quirk. Altering flavors, something like that. I can kinda taste honey in this.”

“Oh, I did that, sorry. I used to add honey to those drinks all the time when I was cramming for exams in college. Makes it a bit more tolerable. You know.” 

“I know pretty well, yeah,” He agreed. He turned around to make sure there was no one in line before asking, “What’s your name?” 

It took you a moment to register the question before you answered it and asked in return, “What about you? Or do you just go by ‘Eraserhead?’”

“‘Aizawa’ is fine,” He smiled. You weren’t gonna tell him how much that name suited him. You were still on duty, after all.

After a moment of silent decision, he asked, “Can I have my receipt?” 

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry I forgot to ask, I’m just-” You pulled the receipt from the register and handed it to him. “-I’m a little distracted today, is all. I’ve been forgetting everything,” You laughed with an airy nervousness.

“Can’t imagine why,” He smirked at you. He set his drink on the counter. “Can I borrow your pen?” 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” You answered, turning around to the machines behind you to start on your own coffee. You were packing another shot when you heard the pen click closed. 

“I’ll see you around. Thanks for the coffee.” 

You turned around just to watch him leave for the doors before you could say anything. You noticed the receipt still laying on the counter. “Aizawa, your receipt-!” But he was already through the doors. If he heard you, he didn’t bother. You sighed and finished making your coffee. 

Grabbing a rag, you quickly wiped down the countertops before even looking at the receipt. You thought it was kind of a dick move of him to ask for his receipt and then just leave it behind for you to pick up. But when you did pick it up, you noticed the numbers scrawled at the bottom, along with the message: “I get off work at five. Don’t forget to call me” and a little doodle of what looked like a cat next to it. You guessed that was his signature. You made it his icon in your phone contacts.

You supposed Aizawa fit somewhere outside the lines of someone who came to coffee shops because they woke up at five, or because they depended on it, or because of a mix of both. He seemed like someone who came to coffee shops for reasons beyond that of coffee itself. And he definitely wasn’t the first- you’d seen people come to your shop and leave with someone else after a long chit-chat, or leave with someone’s number. You didn’t think you’d ever become one of those people, but you couldn’t complain. Especially when the person who gave you their number signed it with a cat doodle. 

-

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[bubblesuga]

Oblivious To Adoration - Prologue

A/N: Hi all! So this is a Prologue (written after the story, oops) that can work as a standalone but I highly suggest also checking out the rest of the story as well! 

W/C: 3,757

Warnings: smut, alcohol consumption, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cum swallowing (if that should be a warning... idk lol), masturbation

Part 1

Exam season is finally over. 

You throw your pencils into your bag and slip it over your shoulder. Despite having studied for ages on each test, you still couldn’t shake the fact that you may have failed. Thousands of dollars down the drain simply because you didn’t absorb the information enough. Jungkook tells you that you’re too smart to worry about things like that but it just wouldn’t leave your head. 

You step out of the lecture hall and spot Jungkook leaning against the wall and talking to a girl. She seems to be flirting by the way she leaned next to him and batted her eyelashes. He seems uncomfortable, his eyes seeming to stare passed her. You roll your eyes, it’s not the first time that Jungkook had been hit on by a woman he was clearly not interested in. 

The moment he sees you, his expression changes and his face is lighting up. He seemingly forgets completely about the girl and pushes himself off the wall and fights his way through the crowd. 

“How did it go?” Jungkook questions, immediately leading you away. 

“I’m not sure yet.” You shrug, sighing in frustration. 

Jungkook gives you a look of sympathy, deciding not to press the matter while you head towards the exit of the building.  

“Get outta the way bitches, (Y/N) just finished her last exam!” Jungkook yelled, his hand on the small of your back while he pushes fellow students out of your path. You roll your eyes at the attention now brought on you, attempting to hide your smile. 

“Kookie you can’t call people bitches.” You groan as he pushes the door open. Jungkook abruptly slips his backpack off his shoulders and punts it down the long stairs. You gasp as it slips right in between a couple of students and Jungkook cringes in apology while he runs down the stairs to go pick it up. 

You let out a laugh, skipping down the stairs yourself and returning in your place beside Jungkook. Instinctively, he wraps his arm around your shoulder while he leads you towards his car. 

“Okay. Everyone has been waiting for today so we can officially celebrate the end of the year. Yoongi and Jin’s apartment at 8 tonight, alright?” Jungkook speaks as he pulls out of the parking lot. 

“Is Namjoon gonna be there?” You ask, picking at your finger nails. Jungkook tilts his head towards you, “Of course.” 

You crinkle your nose jokingly, knowing that Jungkook didn’t like the fact that you and Namjoon teased each other quite a bit. Truthfully it made Jungkook feel jealous, as far as he was concerned you were his best friend and Namjoon had a way of sliding his comments into conversation so effortlessly that had you both laughing and hitting his shoulder. 

Jungkook pulls into your apartment complex a few moments later. You lean over the center console and wrap your arms around his shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight.” 

As you turn to get out, Jungkook grabs your wrist, “We’re going to get wasted tonight, by the way.” 

“Mm,” you nod, humor evident on your face, “can’t wait, Kookie.” 

~*~*~

You already hear music playing lightly through the door of Yoongi and Seokjin’s apartment. You don’t have the chance to knock because Hoseok swings open the door, “Get in here, girl.” 

Hoseok grabs your wrist and pulls you in, your hands gripping the bottle of tequila tighter. 

Suddenly you felt over dressed, spotting your group of friends gathered in the living room as Seokjin and Taehyung yell about some fighting game on the television. Hoseok takes the bottle of tequila from your hands and grabs three shot glasses. 

“Jungkook! (Y/N) is here!” Hoseok calls out to the living room, causing Jungkook to whip his head around. He hops over the couch and immediately reaches for one of the shot glasses. 

“Ah, to possibly making or breaking our future careers!” Jungkook doesn’t wait to tap his shot glass on yours, downing the shot in seconds and reaching to pour another. 

Okay, clearly you had some catching up to do. You could smell the remnants of beers on Jungkook’s breath, and you mentally cursed yourself for running a little late.  You follow his lead, pouring yourself a couple more shots and downing them while Jungkook watches you with shiny eyes. 

Hoseok seems to sense your discomfort of sobriety, reaching into the fridge and pulling out a beer of your own. You silently thank him and pop it open on the edge of the counter, chugging it down. 

Jungkook leads you to the living room and the two of you sit in the corner of the sectional. Already you could feel the heat of the alcohol coursing through your veins, and for once in your life you were grateful for being a lightweight. 

“Ah,” Namjoon spots you, “who invited you?” 

“Awh, don’t be so sad, Joonie. I know you’re secretly really happy I’m here.” You grin, seeing humor alight in Namjoon’s eyes as he turns his attention back to the screen. 

Jungkook notices the exchange between you and Namjoon and can’t help but burn holes into the side of your head. Not that he could do anything about it though, it’s not like he could stop you if you and Namjoon had decided dating or something. Though he cringes at the thought. 

The only thing that steadies his mind the the feeling of your head hitting his shoulder while you giggle at Jimin beating Seokjin at the game and cheering in victory. 

Jungkook relaxes against you, his hand picking up a piece of hair at the back of your head and twirling it softly between his fingers. It takes every bone in his body to prevent him from leaning down and pulling you in for a kiss but he just couldn’t. Even if you wore such a short dress and pranced around in front of him more times than he’d like to admit, or when he can’t help but stare when you bend down to grab something only for Jimin nudge him out of his trance. 

You didn’t like him like that, it just wouldn’t work out. 

The night is going by as every night that you found yourself in one of the boys’ apartments with liquor running through your system. Jungkook and you have been fed drinks constantly and you could officially say that you were drunk, but that was the whole point of this night anyway. 

Yoongi and Hoseok were in the middle of doing awful karaoke, singing some song from a movie that you had never heard of. 

You were practically on top of Jungkook’s lap at this point, the two of you giggling as Hoseok’s voice cracks on a particularly high note. 

“Oh come on you’re better than that Hobi!” You shout over the music and laughter, your eyes glossed over. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you close, your hand flying to his chest and your fingers dancing across his hands. 

“Shut up!” Hoseok shouts back, his voice echoing from the reverb of the mic. Yoongi laughs in the middle of his verse and you realize that these guys truly made you happy, you couldn’t have asked for a better group of friends. 

Especially the man beneath you, who’s strong arms made you feel safe from the beginning of your friendship onward. He always made sure to protect you, but was also well aware that you didn’t need the protection. You allowed him to protect you because you loved the way he could send a boy away from you with a simple look and his arm snaking around your waist. 

You were suddenly hyper aware of how close you were to him, but you didn’t care. You like how he smells too much to stop cuddling him. 

In fact, the feeling of his abs tensing beneath your body caused heat to wrack your lower half. You see him shirtless often, so you didn’t have a problem imagining what he would look like holding himself above you. You tried to push the feeling down, but the alcohol was winning this fight. You needed to have him and you needed to have him now.

“Jungkook?” You ask him quietly, turning his head towards yours. 

“Yes?” He responds, his forehead shining from the heat of your body on his but he didn’t want to push you away. 

“Do you want to come to another room with me?” 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, “Uh, sure?” 

You stand abruptly, but everyone else seemed too enthralled in the performance in front of them to notice. You quickly tug Jungkook with you, a giggle leaving your lips when you notice how he struggles to keep up with you. 

You open the first door you see, spotting a keyboard and guitar in the corner of the room. Jungkook immediately sits on the bed, laying back and groaning. The way his shirt rode up his abdomen ever so slightly and revealed the ‘v’ dipping into his jeans caused you to swallow. 

“So what’s up? Get a little overwhelmed?” Jungkook asks, rubbing his eyes then keeping his gaze trained on the ceiling. 

Now that you had him in the room you were unsure of how to handle the situation. So, you decided to let your instincts guide you. 

You shakily press a step forward, then another, until your knees bump against Jungkook’s. He tears his gaze away from the ceiling and eyes you curiously, causing your face to go red. He smiles comfortingly, “What’s on your mind?” 

Without responding, you climb onto his lap and rest a knee on either side of his thighs. Immediately Jungkook tenses at the movement and sits up, your hands landing on his shoulders. This is different from your usual drunk touchy habits, your heat was a mere 3 layers from his, and the thought alone causes his mouth to water. 

“What are you-” 

Jungkook doesn’t get the chance to finish his question because you slam your lips on his. 

Jungkook freezes entirely, every fiber of his being telling him to kiss you back but the shock of the situation causes him to shrivel in a puddle of confidence-lacking ooze. He had wanted to kiss you for so long - years at this point - and now that you were suddenly kissing him he had no clue what to do. 

Instead of pulling away and accepting defeat, you poke your tongue between your lips and swipe it across Jungkook’s bottom lip and instantly he opens his mouth. 

You smile in victory, your tongue entering his mouth and exploring. The taste of tequila and lemonade laced his tongue, and in a surprising turn of events Jungkook wraps his lips around your tongue and sucks softly. 

He pulls away, meeting your eyes, “How far do you want this to go, (Y/N)?” 

“Need you,” you whine, your fingers wracking over his clothed torso, “need all of you.” 

“Fuck.” Jungkook groans, leading your hands beneath his shirt and allowing you to feel his hot tanned skin directly. He falls back onto the bed while you push his shirt over his head and toss it behind you, hearing the twang of a guitar string. You glance back to make sure the guitar is okay before hearing Jungkook giggle softly. 

He leans his hand up, reveling in the feeling of your soft skin against his, and pushes your hair behind your ear, “You’re so pretty.” 

You press your lips against his again, “Tell me I’m pretty when I’m covered in your cum.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen and you can nearly see the switch in his eyes from Kookie to Jungkook. His fingers fumble with his belt and he quick to unbuckle it, tapping your hip to tell you to lift your body so he can slide his pants down. 

His semi doesn’t take long to harden completely once he feels your hot breath through the thin fabric of his briefs. You bite your lip, looking up at him as you loop your fingers through the hem. 

“No, baby. You’re wearing far too much clothing right now.” Jungkook says, his thumb running over his swollen lips. 

You raise an eyebrow, standing up staring down at Jungkook’s mostly naked body. You smile, your cheeks flushing while you slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders. Jungkook watches your every move, his eyes following your hands while you slide the black material down your body and step out of it. 

Your underwear is by no means flashy, you didn’t expect anyone to see them tonight and you’re about to apologize to Jungkook for the plain pink matching bra and panties but his eyes tell you that you do need to. 

“Off.” He demands, gesturing his hand to you. He wasn’t one for strip teases but he could watch you undress every night and never get tired of it. You reach behind you, unclasping each clasp slowly until the band of your bra falls loose. You’re quick to catch the cups before the slip off, walking closer to him. 

You allow the bra to fall in has lap, your nipples hard with anticipation. This was the first time that Jungkook has seen you so exposed, and he was enjoying the sight. He leans forward and clasps his teeth around one of your nipples and you let out a moan at the feeling. 

You liked this side of him, dominance radiating from him and causing you to drip. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, baby.” He groans, and in seconds your tossed onto the bed beside him. His lips attack your neck, sucking and biting in places you didn’t know could be so pleasurable. Or maybe it was just that fact that Jungkook was the one doing it. Either way, you writhed beneath his lips as he trailed kisses down your body. Reaching your hips, he presses a kiss to each of your hip bones. Looking up at you hesitantly, you see him loop his fingers around each side of your panties. 

“Well what are you waiting for?” You tease, biting your bottom lip. 

Jungkook lets out a breathy laugh, “Just making sure I’m not dreaming.” 

With that, he drags your panties down your legs almost painfully slow. His eyes don’t leave yours, and you wonder if he’s second guessing his decision. He must have noticed the doubt in your eyes, so he presses a kiss softly just above your mound, right on your pelvic bone. 

You relax instantly, his eyes large and filled with lust when he finally tears them away from yours. Jungkook holds both of your ankles in one hand as he finally slides off your panties the rest of the way. You exhale a shaky breath, Jungkook’s position just in front of the bottom of your thighs caused your mind to wander. There were so many ways you wanted him to take you, and your feet on either side of his head was the first way. 

Jungkook lets go of your ankles and you keep your legs raised, slowly opening your thighs where Jungkook finally turns his gaze. 

Your stomach flutters while Jungkook lays on his stomach in front of you, and swipes his ring finger up your slit. Instantly, a loud moan falls from your lips and Jungkook chuckles confidently. 

“Who knew you’d be so wet for your best friend, huh?” He doesn’t allow you to respond, as his tongue darts out of his mouth and swipes a long stripe from the bottom of your heat to your clit. 

You lurch forward, your hands lacing through his hair. 

“Oh god, that feels so good.” You moan, arching your back as Jungkook begins to press two fingers into your cunt. He wasn’t hiding how much he was enjoying this, either, because he moans loudly against your cunt as you tug at the roots of his hair. 

You watch him carefully, biting your bottom lip and your face contorted in pleasure. Jungkook’s eyes were closed, all his energy going into pleasing you. 

He begins to rut his hips against the duvet, whining against you for some sort of release but he doesn’t stop until your coming undone beneath him. “Oh fuck me,” you moan, “Jungkook!” 

You feel his smile against you as you ride out your high against his tongue, your hand gripping his hair harshly. 

“Wow,” he pulls away, his thumb collecting the moisture of your release around his lips and then slipping it into his mouth, “you taste even better than I imagined.” 

Your mouth falls agape, “You imagined what I taste like?” 

“Oh baby,” Jungkook stands for a moment, slipping his boxers down his muscular thighs, “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.” 

Your eyes drop to the apex of his thighs, his cock springing upward and hitting his abdomen. He’s huge, you thought, he’s going to tear me in half. 

And you couldn’t wait. 

You gesture for him to get back on the bed, and in seconds your spreading your thighs. Jungkook strokes his cock for a moment, his eyes washing over your body and he silently pleasures himself at the sight of you. You could come just from watching him, but you were so enthralled with the way his large hands stroked himself that you forgot what you were doing in the first place. It’s not until he’s about to thrust inside of you do you snap back, “Condom?” 

“Ah,” Jungkook blushes, “sorry, one second.” 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. The tiny silver foil was a welcoming sight, and you grin. 

Jungkook spots your salacious smile and can’t help but mirror it, walking over to the side of the bed. He stands tall above you, and he hands you the foil packet. 

“Put it on me.” 

You don’t hesitate, your teeth tearing open the condom and placing the bubble at the top in your mouth. Jungkook hisses when your hand grips the base of his cock and strokes him a few times before you lower your mouth onto him, rolling the condom down his shaft with your tongue running underneath. 

As you reach the base of his cock, you hold yourself there. Jungkook feels your throat contract around him and thrusts in softly, “If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna need to stop sucking me off.” 

You fall back easily, spreading your legs once again and reaching your fingers down to rub your clit in a few circles. 

Jungkook places himself between your thighs again, and presses his cock into your heat slowly. 

You watch the way his thumb shakes as he falls in, his body crashing above you as he catches himself. He can’t help but capture your lips in his as he finally feels you pulse around him like he wanted you to for so fucking long. 

Jungkook has never had so much trouble trying not to cum, but you just felt so good. Your warmth was enticing, and kissing you was distracting him enough not to release. 

“Move, please.” You whisper against his lips, grinding your hips against his. 

Jungkook pulls away until just the tip of his cock is inside, then he slams back in. Still, his lips stay steady on yours and you cry out his name while he thrusts into relentlessly. 

“You take me so well, baby,” Jungkook’s voice was throaty and thick, much different than what you were used to, “squeeze around me so good.” 

He doesn’t leave your lips, breathing heavily through his nose as he continues to thrust harshly. You reach up and drag his bottom lip through your teeth, trying to quiet your moans as you suddenly remember the 6 other people in the apartment. 

Then again, maybe you didn’t care if they heard you. Maybe you liked the thought of the boys hearing Jungkook make you scream. 

So, with Jungkook thrusting particularly harshly, you let out a scream of his name and toss your head back, electricity sparking in your tummy. He reaches deep and slows his thrusts once he feels that your close, long strokes replacing them. 

The fact that Jungkook lay so close to you as he thrusts, the scent of him overwhelming in your nostrils, played a huge factor in pushing you closer and closer to the edge. As you finally feel the twist building in your stomach uncoil in flashing heat, your jaw drops open, “I’m coming!” 

“That’s good,” Jungkook kisses your jaw, “you’re doing so well.” 

He stops his movements and you moan,falling back and trying to catch your breath. 

You open your eyes and meet Jungkook’s, grinning and reaching up to move his fringe away from his forehead, “Did you cum?” 

He shakes his head, “You said you wanted to be covered in my cum, right?” 

You nod hastily, and Jungkook slowly pulls out of you. You groan at the emptiness, but quickly recover when you see Jungkook slip the condom off of his member. 

Again, he stands proudly above you, “What? You think I’m gonna do this myself?” 

You giggle, reaching forward and beginning to stroke him. You’re much faster this time, and Jungkook is thrusting his hips in your hand. He’s gripping your wrist but following the movement of your hand with his eyes screwed shut and his head tossed back. 

Then you hear him suck in an air of breath and you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue and feeling the saltiness of his release paint your tongue. He looks down quickly, as if not wanting to miss the way his cum rests on your tongue. He grips your jaw in his hand, “Swallow.” 

You eye him mischievously, sliding your tongue in your mouth and swallowing, then opening again to show him. 

“Good girl.” He whispers, his eyes still black with lust. 

He places another kiss to your lips, and you pull him down onto the bed with you. 

You both lay, catching your breath and watching each other. Jungkook’s grin is just as wide as ever, and you realize exactly what you had just done. 

You just hooked up with your best friend. Your first friend on campus, the person who’s there for you whenever you’re going through anything. You may have just completely ruined your friendship with him because you let alcohol take over your thoughts. 

Well, at least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It definitely wasn’t the fact that you had been suppressing your attraction to him for years. Nope. 

Definitely wasn’t that. 

[drawlfoy]

Fixed

masterlist

request guidelines

requests are open as usualllll

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

request: yes! i’m combining 2 slytherin!reader requests because they’re rather similar and i feel weird putting two nearly identical ones out, but i swear the storylines aren’t altered.

summary: draco has a teasing relationship with the reader--they playfully argue and go back and forth but never acknowledge the fact that there may be something more. draco notices her pulling back and becoming more reserved. he follows her out of the dining hall one day to find her having a breakdown over a dark secret.

warnings: breakdown (and not the dancing kind), if the summary didn’t already explain that. swearing and potentially suggestive argumentation. also ooc draco and i say “fuck you” to canon in this one

a/n: this is the first time i’m merged two requests together, so i’m feeling a little wacky but i hope it turns out to what you guys wanted! i’m so so lucky to have readers. i’d love any comments that you may have on my work, even if they’re constructive criticism!

music recs: peach pit is what comes to mind but i’m listening to scary stories as i write this lol because i live on the edgeeeeeee

word count: 2,924

Y/N was an organized girl, no doubt about it. So organized, in fact, that she never lost anything, and she most certainly never lost track of her wand.

So when she noticed in Charms that her wand was not stowed away in her cloak pocket, she immediately knew who did it.

Without even as much as a hello, Y/N strode over to her “friend” and fellow house member Draco Malfoy and shoved her hand into his pocket, wiggling it around.

“At least buy me dinner first.” Draco had started at the sudden sensation, but once he smelled the perfume of the witch behind him, he knew exactly who it was, not bothering to give her much of a reaction.

Y/N fished around his pockets for a bit before grabbing his shoulder and yanking him around.

“Where is my wand, Draco? I know you have it.”

He smirked evilly down at her, his eyes glinting with mischief. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you do!” She pulled him towards her by his green and silver tie, trying to look as menacing as possible. “I swear to god, Draco, I’m gonna hex you into oblivion if you don’t give it back.”

“With what wand?” He laughed. “And let’s be real here, Y/N, you wouldn’t anyways. You love me too much.”

Y/N’s cheeks grew red at the suggestion.

“As if, Draco! Give me my wand back, or I’ll throttle you with my bare hands!”

“Ooh, kinky.” 

She let go of his tie, shoving him away. Who was he to suggest these things to her? He’d never been interested as long as she could remember--no matter how many subtle hints she’d dropped, he remained oblivious, instead choosing Pansy’s incessant fawning.

Pretending like it didn’t hurt when he was ignoring her was easy. Pretending it didn’t hurt when he was inches away from her face and fake flirting with her was a whole other deal. 

“Give me my wand, you git,” she commanded, holding her hand out. Perhaps if she was animated with her hands, he wouldn’t notice her blush. 

Draco raised an eyebrow, one side of his lip rising along with it. 

“Ask nicely.”

“May I please have my wand back?” she spat, each word filling her mouth with venom.

“We could work on your tone a tad, but I guess I might as well,” he responded, nonchalant and ignorant of the searing look she sent him. Digging through his satchel, he retrieved her wand, pressing it into her hand.

Y/N sent him a syrupy sweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. In the corner of her vision, she could see Pansy watching her with a sour look on her face.

She was never one to disappoint an audience.

“Thank you, Draco,” she cooed, taking a complete 180 from her previous demeanor. Throwing all caution to the wind, she stood up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. 

When she settled back down to her usual height, she noticed that his eyebrow was still arched, but his evil look was replaced with one of inquisitiveness. 

“I knew you were in love with me,” he crooned.

“No, I’m just a big fan of charity work,” she shot back, spinning around and walking back to her desk.

It was, after all, just another Tuesday.

♥♥♥♥

“Are you still hopelessly obsessed with Draco?”

“Huh?” Y/N diverting her attention from her studies to what her roommate, Millicent, had just asked her. “Sorry, I was deep in a passage and didn’t catch that.”

Millicent rolled her eyes, crossing her legs on her bed. 

“I asked, are you still into Draco? I remember you talking about him in 4th year when we were getting dates for the Yule Ball arranged.” 

“Oh.” Y/N let her eyes fall back onto her textbook. “I don’t know, Mills. I think he’s kind of an arse. He totally knew that I was into him and asked Pansy instead.” 

Millicent chuckled sourly at that.

“Yeah, he was kind of immature back then,” she offered, resting her chin in her hand. “But, I don’t know, don’t you think that you guys have chemistry?”

Y/N thought for a few moments.

“I can’t say,” she responded. “But chemistry doesn’t really mean anything if they don’t care about you, you know? I think he messes with me just so he can feel like I’m still on the hook.”

“How do you know that?” 

“How do I know that he’s just using me?” Y/N rolled her quill over in her hands a few times. “I can’t say for sure, but I’m normally good at reading these situations and I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“So you’re saying that you do have hopes that he’s interested?” Y/N didn’t have to turn to know that her roommate was plotting. 

“I’m saying that I really don’t have time to be worrying about it right now,” Y/N opined. 

Before she knew it, a hand was taking her quill out of her hand and closing her textbook.

“Hey! You can’t--”

“It’s been too long, Y/N,” Millicent whined. “We need to have a good gossip, and now that midterms are over, we can catch up. Please?”

Y/N couldn’t help a smile from creeping into her stony expression. While she had had reservations about her roommate at first, she soon learned that they brought the best out in each other.

“Okay, okay, but I’m not making any rash decisions, alright?”

“And when would I ever let you do that anyways?”

They both erupted in giggles while Y/N allowed her friend to pull her onto the bed.

“So, for starters,” Millicent began. “I heard that Draco and Pansy are going through a rough patch right now.” 

“And who did you hear that from?”

“Irrelevant. But if you care, Blaise, and Theo confirmed it as well. And I would’ve found out without their help...they’re acting weird. Pansy looks like she’s ready to slit his throat at a moment’s notice, if you haven’t been paying any attention for the past 4 hours.”

Y/N laughed nervously. Of course she had noticed...but she didn’t want anyone to realize how much she actually cared.

“Yikes, I hope they figure that out. Their parents are going to be mad if they break up, right?”

“No, probably not. His parents really want him to end up with a Greengrass...something about settling a deal from a few generations ago.”

“Oh.” Y/N swallowed any other hope that she had left. “That sucks for Pansy. I know how much she likes him.”

Millicent paused for a moment, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been feeling bad as well,” she said, her tone softening. “I’ve noticed the pain in your eyes whenever you see them together.”

“And it doesn’t help when he seeks me out to mess with me!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I try so, so hard to forget about him and pretend like he doesn’t matter to me, but he finds all of these ways to keep butting back into my life and it always works...”

Her roommate began rubbing her back, allowing the few tears being shed to fall in peace. 

“You’re worth so much, Y/N,” she told her firmly. “And unless I’m wrong, which we know is impossible, I think he kind of likes you too.”

“I don’t think you understand, though,” Y/N whispered. “Why would I ever want to be with someone who thinks of me as a second choice?”

Millicent was silent for a few breaths.

“Yeah. Maybe his parents pushed him to date her, though? Maybe he has a good excuse?”

“I don’t know, Mills. I’m just not going to think about it anymore, alright?”

♥♥♥♥

Draco was sitting across the breakfast table from Y/N, watching her sip her tea, waiting for the moment to throw another comment her way. 

The screech of owls interrupted his thought process, signaling that the morning post had arrived. A snowy owl landed gracefully next to Y/N’s plate, bearing a letter with a red wax seal on the back.

She shook herself out of her daydreams--she had been up late the night before cramming for an exam and had burnt through an entire candle. Stroking her owl, she whispered a genuine thank you and instructed it to fly on home.

Y/N picked up the letter, fingering the parchment. It was clearly from her parents--the wax seal bore the mark of her family’s crest. Confused, she ripped open the envelope and began skimming the letter.

Oh, no. Oh, no.

Her vision began to blur as she folded the parchment up, shoving it back into her pocket. 

“Hey Y/N, what’s going--”

Before Draco could finish his sentence, she was already halfway down the aisle, moving quickly to the exit. He watched her go, wishing that he could follow but knowing that it wasn’t a good idea with the tension regarding Pansy.

It was high time to break up with her anyways--no reason to keep up appearances when he didn’t desire her.

♥♥♥♥

As the week went by, Draco noticed more and more changes in Y/N’s demeanor. She was eating less and spacing out more. Her skirt was wrinkled on Friday, something that rarely ever happened, and she was no longer sending him bitter remarks in response to his flirty ones. On Saturday, she stayed in her dorm instead of joining her friends for a day in Hogsmeade, something he had never seen her miss before.

Something was clearly wrong with Y/N, and for some reason, this twisted something in his chest more than breaking up with Pansy did. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her messing around in the common room, either. It was unnerving, really. The witch had no business worrying him like that.

So, when he passed by her during a free period and saw her walking ahead of him, he made the executive decision to finally do something.

“Y/N!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. “Y/N, wait!”

She halted, turning around slowly. When she saw who had called her name, she stiffened and made to continue on her path. 

Draco, anticipating such a reaction, had already begun to jog towards her, lightly pushing past the rest of the students going the same direction.

“Y/N! Please, I need to talk to you!”

 She picked up the pace, but Draco’s long legs caught up to her as he slipped a hand into the crook of her arm, startling her.

“What do you wa--”

“Can I please talk to you? It’ll just take a second. I promise.”

Her expression was unreadable, but he could tell that she was considering her options. 

“Fine,” she finally said. “What is it?”

“Not here,” Draco quickly said. “Somewhere private. The common room, maybe?” 

“If you wanted to off me, I doubt anyone would notice if you did it right here,” Y/N said, waving her hand dismissively. “But if you would really like to talk there, then I guess I’ll comply.”

Without another word, Draco led her down to the dungeons, keeping his hand tucked in her arm, not trusting her to stick by him. It felt strange--normally he was the one holding his arm out, but then again, this entire situation was out of character for him. 

Once they had reached the common room, Draco waved his wand and lit the fire, sitting down in front of the couch to watch the green flames lick the stone.

“Sit,” he instructed, patting the space on the couch next to him. 

Surprisingly, Y/N did as she was told, folding her legs up on the couch and sending Draco a death stare.

“Get on with it.”

“I just...I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Draco faltered. Playing therapist was not something he had experience with. “I’ve noticed you acting strange since you got that letter at breakfast and it’s making me worry. Can you just tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it and we can be normal again?”

Y/N was silent for a while.

“You can’t fix this. Not this time. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean I can’t? Just tell me, Y/N, please.”

Silence again...except for something else. Draco stole a glance at Y/N and was stunned to see the firelight illuminate tears rolling down her face. 

“Oh, no, Y/N, what’s wrong?” 

The question only made her gasps for air louder as Y/N curled herself into a ball.

“I’m sorry,” she managed. “You should go. You can come back later when I’m calmer, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Draco murmured, bringing up a hand to steady her shoulder. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll make it better, alright?”

“My parents are forcing me into an arranged marriage,” she whispered, hugging her knees to her chest. “He goes to Durmstrang. I hate him. They offered my hand in marriage because they want his father to be more amiable to mine in this business deal, and since I’ve never been in a relationship, they think it’s the only chance I have anyways at finding a life partner.”

The sobs had stopped. Her tears fell silently now, staining the whites of her sleeves.

Draco himself had to process the information. Y/N, married to someone else? No, he never could’ve imagined that.

Without anything particularly useful to say, Draco just opened his arms.

“C’mere,” he awkwardly mumbled. 

Y/N studied him for a few seconds.

“I’m going to get snot on your shirt.”

“I don’t care.” 

With that settled, Y/N released her knees from her hold, instead crawling into his lap. He stroked her hair as she wept into his shirt and clung to him.

Oh, how this was embarrassing for her. She supposed that there was a reason why her parents were so desperate to accept an offer for her hand. 

Draco suddenly stopped, moving his hands to tap her shoulder.

“Y/N,” he began, “Would they make you marry him if you were already in a relationship?”

She sat up, blowing her nose into her handkerchief before answering.

“No, probably not. Why?”

“Well...” He pondered for a second, wondering if he was really going to be brave enough to say what he wanted to. “What if I was in the picture? They wouldn’t care to pass you off to some random Durmstrang boy if you had a Malfoy instead, right?”

Y/N stared at him.

“Er... probably not. That’s nice wishful thinking there, Draco.”

“I’m being serious!” He wasn’t expecting it to go this direction. 

“How do I know that you’re not joking?” she queried, scootching further away from him and trying to ignore the pain that flashed across his eyes.

“I let you cry all over my dress shirt,” he reminded her, motioning to the stains on his chest. “Do you think I’d do that for any girl?” 

Y/N just shrugged, hiccuping once before she stuffed her handkerchief back into her pocket. 

“I wouldn’t.” Draco answered his own question, reaching up to gingerly brush her hair out of her eyes. “I know it must be weird seeing me with Pansy.”

“Yeah, no shit,” she mumbled. “I didn’t even think about that. My disbelief was due to the fact that you’ve never been interested.”

Draco flinched. 

“I don’t think you’re completely right there,” he said, his hand pausing to cup her face. 

“Are you forgetting the Yule Ball ordeal? How you knew how much I liked you but you still went with Pansy instead?”

“You don’t understand,” he responded hastily. “I didn’t know--I was 14 and an idiot. I couldn’t tell if you liked me or not and I knew that she did, so I wasn’t afraid.”

“And so you dated her for another 2 years?” Y/N answered in disbelief, seemingly forgetting the fact that she had just been crying her eyes out.

“At first it was to make you jealous,” Draco explained. “But then Pansy’s parents began to expect a lot out of us, and I was waiting for the right time to break it off, and it just didn’t....ever come around.”

Draco jumped as Y/N smacked his shoulder.

“You’re an idiot,” she snapped. 

“I know.” Draco gulped. “And I’m sorry about that, Y/N, I really am. Let me make it up to you. Owl your parents and tell them that you had forgotten to mention that you’re already in a serious relationship with me.”

He curled an arm around her waist, highlighting the fact that while she wasn’t lying on his chest, she was still nestled into him.

“Under one condition,” Y/N told him, an elvish glint in her eyes.

“Yes?” He reached up his free hand to boop the tip of her nose.

“What was that?!” Y/N jerked her face away from his.

Draco smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You were saying?”

Her mouth was parted slightly in confusion as her brain tried to recall what she was about to say.

“I--just don’t be a pill, Draco, alright?”

“C’mon now, when have I ever been one?” He smirked down at her, wearing the expression that he adopted whenever they teased each other in class.

Y/N was trying her hardest to stay composed, but a genuine smile fought its way onto her face. It only widened when Draco leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Pulling away, he uttered the words that would lead to her lightly smacking him on the shoulder again:

“I told you I could fix it.”

final a/n: kindaaaaaaa mad that i took on this request at this point because i totally could’ve turned this into a series where the reader and draco don’t admit feelings this early and instead decide to “fake date” so both parents would be happy but i have a lifeeeee grossssss

[crystalwillow]

Pitter Patter, Part One

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Georgia Valentine (F!MC)

Collab With: @brycelahelalover

Word Count: 4.5K

We loved our last collab we done last time that @brycelahelalover and I decided to do another one. In this one Bryce and F!MC are having a baby and learning to become the best parents they can be, so their child doesn’t have to experience what they did as children. I am adding some personal feelings and thoughts to my part of this collab. So it is a little but about me and what type of person I was going through school and my thought process and how that has developed over the years up until now, when I’m 22. I hope you enjoy this one! Remember to keep an eye out for part 2 which will be posted by Chahnaz, as well as a little side story she wants to write too.

=================================

She had always had a hard time trusting people, but in particular, she’d had a hard time trusting men all her life. She was the shy kid in school who had a small group of people she would hang out with and if they weren’t at school she would always find a quiet spot to sit by herself and pass the time by sitting studying for a subject as she ate her lunch. She never caught anyone’s eye, meaning she never had a relationship. Though that was much to her relief as she already had enough to deal with, and there was no way she could handle a relationship. So when she started her time at Edenbrook hospital after graduating med school, she had no idea that she would be where she is now at 31.

--- 8 Years Earlier ---

“You seriously don’t see children in your future?! Like at all?”

Georgia shook her head as she swallowed her bite of pasta salad at the question asked by one of her friends, Angelica.

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Why?”

Georgia shrugged. “I just... don’t feel like that’s in the cards for me so why bother thinking about it?”

Angelica smiled sadly and gently rubbed Georgia’s wrist before saying goodbye and heading back behind the counter of the coffee shop to continue with her work, leaving her friend to study for an exam.

--- Present Day ---

Bryce sat up in bed with a loud yawn as he stretched out, the person beside him groaning in tired annoyance. “Shut up.” they mumbled, rolling over and stuffing the pillow over their head. Bryce grinned lazily before laying over them and resting his head on the pillow. “Ahhh yes. Much comfier... I should have ordered the Georgia style mattress when I brought the frame instead.” he teased. “Get off of me you fat oaf.” Georgia protested, her voice muffled beneath the pillow.

“It even talks.. cool. Creepy.. but still cool. Tell me, do you love me?”

“Yes. You know I do.”

“mhm. Are you in love with me.”

“Bryce...” she sighed.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t breathe. I’ll tell you that for free. Anything else and you’re gonna have to pay.”

Bryce Chuckled rolling off of her and back onto his half of the bed, Georgia throwing the pillow off of her head.

“Wow. You are RED.”

“And you’re clearly in the wrong profession, Sherlock Holmes.” She retorted smugly.

Bryce looked at his girlfriend with his trademark smirk and eyes sparkling with mischief before launching himself at her and smothering her with affectionate kisses and a massive hug, resting his head in the crook of her neck as she hugged him back.

“We need to get up Bryce.”

“I don’t want to.”

“We have to. I have work and you have shopping to do.”

Bryce groaned into Georgia’s neck and she laughed at him. “Come on.”

“Nope.”

“Bryce.”

“Ugh, finee. But you owe me later.”

“I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“You had better.”

--- 4 Hours Later ---

Georgia was walking through a hall on her way to the cafeteria to get some coffee, when a blur of colour zoomed past knocking her into the wall. “Oof.” she said aloud as someone came back around the corner, when she met the persons eyes she took in a sharp breath. Bryce looked at her apologetically.

“Sorry babe.”

“No, it’s okay. What are you doing here anyway? I thought it was your day off?”

“It was supposed to be, but I’ve been called in to assist on an emergency surgery. We’ll have to finish the shopping together later.”

“Oh. Okay, well... good luck.” She smiled and went up on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss before he rushed off again. As she trudged onward, Georgia ran into Zaid who waved her over.

“What’s up?” she asked as she stopped beside him

“Baz told me that you’re needed upstairs.”

“Oh. Okay, thank you.” She smiled as Zaid nodded curtly and left, leaving Georgia to go up to the diagnostics office.

When she got there the team was already half way through a differential, she took a seat and done her best to catch up despite the fiery death glares her boss was giving her. They were strong enough that she could have sworn her skin was burning.

“That would be everything for now. And Valentine.”

“Y-yes, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I won’t accept tardiness on my team. If it happens again you can kiss your spot goodbye. Understood?”

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey, Sir.”

She bowed and backed out of the room as if he was royalty before turning around and heading off to her patients again. Later in the day she met up with Bryce and they went to finish the grocery shopping together. Though the car ride there seemed quiet and tense as Georgia looked out of the window with a distant look in her eyes.

“Are you okay sweetheart?” Bryce asked, concern on his face as he darted glances to the seat beside him. But he got no answer. “Geor-”

“I’m fine.” She snapped out of seemingly nowhere forcing Bryce into a silence making the atmosphere in the car very awkward. When they reached the parking lot of the store and Bryce killed the engine after parking the car she spoke up again. “You stay here. I’ll get everything we need.”

She still had that tone in her voice and Bryce could tell she was doing it again. Trying to put distance between them, and it was then he registered what the look in her eyes truly was. A mix of fear and uncertainty. Sighing, he locked them in the car and took her hand in his tentatively and stroked the back with his other spare one. “Babe. It’s okay.” He whispered looking at her even though she refused to look back at him. “I understand that you get scared. And that’s okay, Just please... don’t push me away. I’m here for you Georgia. Through whatever life will throw at you. I’m in your corner.” He watched for a reaction from her, but she just shook her head as she blinked back tears. “Oh sugarplum.” He sighed, unbuckling her seatbelt and pulling her into his lap. She silently snuggled closer into him as he rubbed soothing circles onto her back and kissed the top of her head delicately as if she was an expensive piece of antique china porcelain he couldn’t afford to break. Georgia cried quietly into his chest until she fell asleep, Bryce laying her in the back of the car and covering her with a blanket before locking the car and heading inside to do the shopping himself. By the time she woke up, they were back at Bryce’s apartment and her head was in Bryce’s lap as he watched a show on TV whilst absentmindedly playing with her hair. Her slight movement and yawn alerted him to the fact she was awake now. He glanced down to find her glistening green eyes looking up at him, they were still tired and had a mix of emotions flowing through them.

“Hey.” He said with a soft smile at her, which she returned.

“Hey.” She whispered back, sitting up to stretch some more before laying back in Bryce’s lap, his hand going back to playing with her hair. “I’m sorry for earlier.” She mumbled, staring at the screen as if it was a window.

Bryce sighed. “It’s alright. You’ve explained everything to me before. I’m not mad. You’re perception of men hasn’t exactly been the greatest growing up. Your dad wasn’t the best, your mom only ever dated men who would break her heart and was too stubborn to end things because she didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of her doing so. And I’m your first ever love. Navigating a relationship when you haven’t had the best examples is hard, I get that. I mean, look at my parents. I’m blessed because they stayed together, but... they weren’t the best example of what love should be. When I say I’m in your corner, I mean it. We’re in this whole adventure together. It’s new and scary for both of us, but don’t let the feeling of fear rule your thoughts. I’m not leaving you, I love you too much. I’d be insane to leave such a beautiful woman. There’s nobody like you. You’re smart, funny, caring. You may not see it yourself but you’re also very courageous at times. Nothing is going to change the way I feel about you, ever.”

Georgia smiled at him as a tear rolled down her cheek. She had only been awake for approximately 5 minutes and he had made her cry. Bryce looked down when he heard a sniffle and looked at her with a look of adoration mixed with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just... you’re so sweet when were together. Why don’t you show this side more often?”

“You mean in public with our friends?”

She nodded.

“Because this side of me is reserved for moments like this. Where it is just us, and I can be as sappy and loving and worshipping of you as I like without judgement from the likes of Jackie.”

“Bryce...” Georgia smiled genuinely as he bent down to press a soft kiss to her lips. She kissed him back, and when they pulled away their lips were a little plumper.

--- 3 Weeks Later ---

Bryce sighed as he got into his car after one of the most intense surgeries he had conducted, he was equal parts worried as he was tired. What was so urgent that Georgia wanted to speak about? He was taken over by confusion as he drove towards his apartment where he knew his girlfriend was waiting for him. As he parked in the lot of the complex, he took a moment to breathe as he killed the engine before heading upstairs on tired feet. As he opened the door, the familiar smell of his favourite rice dish hit his nostrils and he perked up a bit before dread overtook his senses. If she had cooked his favourite meal what was this about if not breaking up? He stepped over the threshold and closed the door, tossing his keys into the bowl on the table by the door, and hung his jacket on the coat stand, before kicking his shoes off and wriggling his toes with a sigh of relief.

“Bryce!”

“Ah!!” he screamed as his girlfriend ran over and jumped into his arms, hugging tightly.

“I missed you today.”

“I missed you too, honey” he yawned.

Georgia lead him to the couch and sat him down. “You relax here. Dinner is almost ready.” She said with a smile and kiss to his cheek before heading back to his kitchen. When she returned she was carrying a tray that had a massive bowl of rice and chicken on it.

“I’m too tired to lift a fork right now babe. I just got out of an 11 hour surgery and-”

“Stop right there. That’s why there’s only one bowl, I’m going to feed you because you need to eat.”

Bryce smiled with a small chuckle. “You’re going to make an amazing mother to our children one day. You know that?” He asked as he turned his head to look at her, suddenly feeling more alert when he registered how serious her expression had turned. “Is... Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Yeah...”

Georgia placed the tray on the coffee table and sat next to him as he sat forwards and turned his body to face her, and they took each other’s hands.

“Is there something wrong? Are you unable to have them? Because that doesn’t matter if that’s the problem, we can adopt. There’s hundreds of children looking for loving homes. And.”

“Bryce. Will you shut up for one minute and let me talk?” she asked as she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah. Of course, sorry. I just.”

“It’s okay. I understand. But I wanted to talk about it because I think I’m ready. To start trying for a child. That is.. if you are too?” she said with hopefulness in her tone.

Bryce looked at her as a silence stretched out between them, he watched in awed perplexation as she lightly bit her lower lip, internally asking himself if this was really happening and if he was ready for this step in their relationship too. After a while, Georgia started to get worried.

“Babe? ... B-Bryce?” she asked, her voice loud in the silence bringing Bryce back to the present moment. He looked down at their hands held in one another’s a small smile creeping onto his features as hot tears of emotion pricked his eyes. He looked up to be met with her green orbs sparkling with a mix of emotions as he cleared his throat.

“Yeah.” He nodded, squeezing her hands. “I’m ready too.”

Time seemed to stop in that moment for them yet still go on around them as they hugged tightly whispering sweet nothings to each other and shared kisses that were equally as sweet. They shared the bowl of food and washed it down with their favourite drinks before they both headed to bed, exhausted from their days.

Two months after their discussion, Bryce and Georgia started trying seriously for a child. Soon the days turned to weeks, weeks to months and months to almost a full year until the morning of his 33rd birthday Bryce was woken up by an ear-piercing scream. He flew out of bed and into the bathroom where he found Georgia on the floor crying, and spotted a pregnancy test on the side. He walked over and risked peaking at it, breath catching in his throat as he saw it.

“Babe...” he said quietly as he crouched beside her and pulled her into a hug. Tears glistening his eyes too. Georgia couldn’t manage any words that morning as they got ready and made their way to work other than what food she wanted from the coffee shop as they stopped off on their way to Edenbrook. When they reached the hospital they stopped in the atrium and took a seat on a bench close to the main doors.

“How are you feeling?” Bryce asked

“.... Shocked. I...”

Bryce smiled and squeezed her hand tightly, conveying he knew exactly how she felt with his touch and the look he gave her.

“I wasn’t ready to see a positive after so many negatives. I just. I can hardly process my thoughts. I... How are you feeling?” she asked back looking into his eyes only to be met with a warm, excited smile.

“Honestly. Pretty great, this is like, the best birthday present ever.”

Georgia froze as she suddenly remembered what day it was.

“Ohmygosh. I’m so sorry, I’d planned to cook breakfast for you and everything. Not wake you up by screaming and crying on your bathroom floor.”

“It’s fine babe, honestly. But I have been meaning to talk to you about us too.”

“You have?”

Bryce nodded, uncertainty clouding his eyes for a brief moment before being replaced by his trademark happiness. “I’ve been thinking maybe we should move in together now. I mean, we’re taking the step of having a child, so it only makes sense we live in the same place now instead of separately. Which has been torturous for me by the way.” He said teasingly.

Georgia smiled at him. “We should give it thought for today and talk it over in more detail tonight after work, back at my place.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.”

They both leaned forward for a kiss, but it was cut short at the sound of a familiar voice ringing out through the atrium.

“VALENTINE!”

Georgia cringed at the sound of Dr. Ramsey’s voice and pulled away with a sigh. “Sorry. I should.. get going.” She whispered.

“Okay. Come. Find me. Later.” Bryce said with a smile, kissing her between each word.

Georgia gave him a smile and returned his kisses before taking her bag and following her boss up to the office to start her day at work.

Inside the office before the morning consult started, Dr. Ramsey rounded on the young doctor.

“You’ve had all morning to suck face rookie, I suggest if you want to do it for longer that you give up your spot for someone who will value it and not act with such reckless abandon.”

“Are you a female, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I’m sorry?��� He asked, everyone looking at Georgia confused.

“Are you a female? Did you find out this morning that your pregnant? Is it your boyfriends birthday? And last but certainly not least, is the topic of later discussion with your boyfriend already in your mind? In other words... Are you walking amongst the clouds this morning, Dr. Ramsey?”

“I-”

“You’re pregnant?! Congratulations.” Baz exclaimed happily, wrapping her in a hug. “I’m going to be an uncle, can you believe it?!”

“I’m sure Zaid is going to be thrilled.” A stuck up voice said

“Excuse me. Zaid Mirani is very good with children and not half as bad as he portrays himself.” Georgia said defensively to the posh, stuck up woman who had replaced June’s spot on the team.

“And for future reference, you address Dr. Ramsey with respect as he dese-”

“I suggest you, Dr. Portavia, address the members of my team who have been here longer than you with respect. Including myself. Dr. Valentine is well within her rights to talk to me as she was. We have somewhat of a friendship outside of these walls, I take the boss position too harshly sometimes in moments where I shouldn’t. Now. If we are done with the arguments?”

The team sat around the table. Baz next to Georgia as always and 2 seats left empty between themselves and Dr. Portavia as Dr. Ramsey briefed the team on their new patient.

---

Consumed by the busyness of her day and lost in the amount of tasks she had to do, Georgia completely lost track of time until she ran into Bryce and saw him in his regular clothes.

“Hey babe.” She greeted with a smile and quick kiss before turning to her patients chart she had placed on the desk of the nurses station.

“Hey.” Bryce said back with a yawn. “How are you?”

“Pretty good. Today is hectic but I’d be lying if that wasn’t one of the aspects of this job that excites me.”

“Today? Honey, when was the last time you sat down?”

“In the diagnostics office after I left you this morning.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes. I’ve had a cereal bar that was in my pocket. Other than that I’ve just been keeping my water intake way up. ... Not really had the chance to stop for longer than 2 minutes.”

“And... what day is it?”

Georgia gave a chuckle. “It’s your birthday silly.” But her expression fell as she took in the serious look of concern on Bryce’s face. “Wh-what is it?”

“It’s 4:27am of the day after my birthday.”

“What? No it’s not.”

“Georgia. I’ve been waiting at your place for you all night.”

“But...”

“No buts. You’re clocking out and coming home with me. Now.”

Georgia sighed as she felt sadness and a pang of guilt radiate in her chest. She’d missed her boyfriend’s birthday completely, and now she felt completely rotten.

“Oh. O-okay then. I’ll just... get my... stuff.” She stuttered before heading off to the locker room. Bryce flagging down a nearby nurse and asking them to keep an eye on all of her patients. On their way out they passed Ethan coming into the hospital. He stopped in his tracks as he heard Bryce’s hushed words towards Georgia.

“...you’re pregnant now. You can’t pull almost 24 hour shifts and survive on cereal bars and water anymore. You need to take care of 2 people now.”

Equal parts intrigued and worried, Ethan called out to them.

“Valentine. Lahela.”

Georgia and Bryce stopped in their tracks and turned to him.

“Hey Eth- Dr. Ramsey.” Georgia said sweetly whilst Bryce gave a curt nod to the attending.

“Are you only now going home?” Ethan asked

“I uh...”

“She is. Though I don’t see why it concerns you.” Bryce said coolly

“Bryce. He’s my boss.”

“Right.”

An intense awkward moment passed between the three of them as Bryce stared as Ethan with his chest puffed out, holding Georgia’s hand protectively. They all knew why, but Bryce needn’t worry. Ethan was aware that Georgia didn’t reciprocate his feelings towards her in a romantic way and they were contently settled on being friends. That didn’t stop Bryce from being protective of what was his though, he felt it was his duty to protect her from other bachelors. Young or old.

It was Ethan who broken the silence. “Right, well um. Take the day off and rest properly. I’ll see you tomorrow Valentine.” He said with a soft smile and single nod before heading to the elevators, Bryce walking out to his car still protectively holding Georgia’s hand. When they got back to her apartment Bryce carried Georgia up to her front door, only placing her on her feet to open the door before picking her up again and taking her inside and straight to her bed.

“Keep your butt planted here, I’ll heat up your dinner.”

“Okay.”

Bryce turned quickly and made his way to the kitchen so that Georgia wouldn’t see the worry in his eyes. When he came back with a plate full of steaming hot food, he found the bed empty.

“Babe?” he sighed, placing the plate on the bedside table

“Yeah?”

Bryce turned around and saw Georgia behind him.

“I thought I told you to keep your butt on the bed?”

“I needed to pee.”

“... so?”

“So I went. I wasn’t going to pee my bed Bryce.”

Bryce sighed with dejected tiredness. “Just. Eat your dinner, I’ll come by later or sometime tomorrow and we can talk about moving in together then okay?”

“You... aren’t going to stay?”

“I have a shift that starts in an hour and a half. I can’t.”

“Oh. Okay. Well um, see you later. I love you!” Georgia called out as Bryce moved past her and out of the front door. Guilt settled in Georgia’s chest as she heard the door close behind him, her ‘I love you.’ left unreturned.

--- The Next Day ---

It was late in the afternoon the next day and Georgia was half way through her rounds when she bumped into someone’s chest as she rounded a corner.

“Oh! Sor- Oh. Bryce.” She said as she turned her gaze to the floor and maneuvered around him and carried on her way. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since he left her in her apartment to head to work the previous morning, so she knew to avoid him. It had always been that way for her, she had a good relationship with someone, things went great, then she got carried away with something she loves to do and makes them mad, they don’t talk to her, she avoids them. So when Bryce caught her arm gently and pulled her back, it took her by surprise and her breath hitched.

“I have work to do. I need to get to the lab.” She said professionally never meeting his gaze.

“I’ll walk with yo-”

“No. I’m internal medicine. You’re a surgeon. There’s no reason we need to be walking together unless we’re heading to the same patient room.”

“I’m also your boyfriend.”

“Are you? Because the last time I checked, even if a boyfriend is mad with their other half, they at least send them a message saying hey, hoping their okay and ending it with I love you. Which by the way, you never returned. So if you’ll excuse me, I have to get some run-ups done on these blood samples.” Georgia huffed as she turned on her heel and stomped towards the labs.

“Georgia!” Bryce called out as he chased her through the halls.

“Just leave me alone, Bryce.”

“Would you just talk to me for a second and tell me what’s wrong?!”

Georgia halted to an abrupt stop.

“I told you what’s wrong Bryce. You’ve not text me back, you’ve ignored my calls and you never returned my ‘I love you.’ yesterday. I’m pregnant with your goddamn child and you’re acting like one all because I lost track of time and almost worked 24 hours! I get that could have endangered the baby but I’m a doctor, Bryce. I was going to eat a proper meal as soon as I got home.”

“And when was that going to be?”

“As soon as I’d filled in those charts and said goodnight to my patients. I was 20 minutes from being done for the day when you dragged me away.”

“I did not drag you!”

“I’m not saying you physically dragged me.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Georgia just gave him a look and just like he had done to her, walked away from him without another word, leaving Bryce to throw his arms up in exasperation before heading back to work. Soon months had passed, and Georgia was now 7 months pregnant. She and Bryce got over there little bump and had made the decision to move into a 3 bed house close to Edenbrook, which they had both gotten the day off of work to move into properly. Georgia watched from the top of the stairs as Bryce carried in the last box from his car, kicking the door shut behind him. Feeling her gaze on him, he looked up flashing his trademark grin with a wink.

“Like what you see?”

“What I see impregnated me, sooo..”

“Fair point.” He chuckled then pointed to the box. “Last one. Where’s it going? It’s not labelled.”

“In our bedroom.” Georgia smiled before heading towards the nursery to carry on clicking the pieces of the plastic drawers that would hold the toys together. She was clicking the wheels in place when Bryce came in the room smiling at her.

“What?” Georgia asked with a brow raised in curiosity.

“Nothing. I just feel like a proper adult now. I have a job, a beautiful girlfriend, we have a baby on the way and we just got our first place together.” He said, sitting next to her and pulling her to his chest as he leant back on the wall. Georgia smiling up at him. “Yeah. It does feel pretty great doesn’t it?” she smiled. They stayed there in the spot for a while, just looking out of the window and watching the trees swaying in the wind before carrying on with building, and setting things up. After a long day moving into their new house, they settled into bed after enjoying a warm bubble bath together, excited for the day they would be able to finally meet their bundle of joy.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Habits, pt. 2

Summary: Old habits are hard to break, especially when they come in the form of a broken ex you still have feelings for. So when Ethan shows up at her doorstep once more, Y/N is forced to push him away for her own sanity. Problem is, he’s just not ready to go.

Warnings: angst, swearing, anger issues

Word count: 1500

Part 1   

It���s the same knock – twice in a row with a delayed third one. It’s closer to 2 AM, a little later than he usually comes. She stared at the door for a minute or two, aware his knock isn’t going away. If anything, Ethan Dolan is a persistent man and while she used to admire that quality, she was hoping he’d find someone else to be persistent with. However, her anger took over and she wasn’t pleased with just staring blankly at the door, partially afraid he might break it as the door isn’t really sturdy to begin with.

Cracking the door open, Y/N was ready to blow. Her eyes are red from studying long into the night, her mind on edge with upcoming exams she needed to do perfectly to keep her scholarship and having her ex-boyfriend at her doorstep was pushing her over the edge she had tried balancing.

Ex-boyfriend…The word alone is enough to make her choke up. In her dreams they were married, then came the babies... Now he is just an ex, not even by an official break up – he just disappeared from her life and drops in whenever his life is shitty and she’s supposed to be okay with that. Well, she’s far from being okay with that, even if she never says anything.

“Seriously?!” She exclaimed, her voice high and her eyebrows furrowed at his hunched form. He leaned on the doorframe, his neck bent to be closer to her. A faint smell of his Wakeheart perfume reaches her, enough to intoxicate her, but not enough to make her forget. It hasn’t been that long this time around. Perhaps if he spaced it out and showed up a week later, but two days? Twice in one week? Three times if she counts it as a seven day period instead of a conventional week!

“This is some kind of a record! You broke up three times in a single week!”

“Can I just -” Ethan began quickly, aware he’s there on borrowed time for she would close the door on him any moment now and if he didn’t speak his mind, he’d end up alone for the night. That alone is a terrifying thought that makes him want to push all the right buttons and he knew exactly which buttons and just how much pressure she could take.

“NO!” She slammed the door in his face, pushing her back against the wooden door with her heart clawing its way out her chest.

“Sunshine, please.” He has all these high emotions that make him so attractive, they tumble about, taking their turns to rise and fall. But when all's said and done they really don't get him anywhere, the cycle just starts over again. And Y/N was desperate to end it, especially now when she had barely anything left to give him. She had become an empty cup herself, no more warmth or love reserved for this broken man she adored.

Y/N snorted at the audacity he has for using the old nickname, shaking her head at both him and herself. She envies those that marry their childhood sweethearts, the ones that never feel the lingering sting of betrayal, the anguish of forming a bond so strong only to have it ripped from your still beating heart. It's an invisible wound that never gets treated and the infection only gets worse. She still feels like herself, but with a caution and a tinge of bitterness she never wanted. Ethan did that to her. He changed her for the worse – made her lose all self-respect and confidence he once loved. She had become a numbing agent for him and it had to stop – the lack of genuine communication and apologies had to stop.

“Fuck, no! Just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you can go around breaking other people’s hearts. I’m done!” She yelled through the door, not knowing he’s on the edge just as much as she is. In fact, he’s already falling. When you hold too much of yourself inside, hiding it from the world, the only reaction you can get is an inevitable explosion.

“Besides, my neighbors complained about the couch creaking and I don’t need a repeat of that conversation.” She mussed in a sad attempt to crack a joke, running her hand over her face before turning around. She leaned in, her ear placed against the door to hear if he’s even there anymore because the silence is deafening. She always hurts when she lets him in, more so when he’s done using her, but she never knew it would be far worse not letting him in at all. She couldn’t help but worry for him, utterly lost in all the possibilities of what he might do when she turns him away.

Would he go home?

Would he find someone else?

Would he ever come back?

If he did, she hoped he’d come as he is. There was a missing link somewhere in this story – a reason why he didn’t stay with her but held on like his life depends on it.

Did he talk to Veronica?

Was he honest with her about what plagues his mind?

Does he love Veronica like he used to love her?

Does she know the way he drops his voice when he's feeling love, the way he flicks his eyes to the left or runs his fingers all the way through his hair - and he does that with Y/N all the time. Even now.

Before she can call for him, she’s startled when his fist connects with the door. The sound is loud, aggressive, too violent for the guy she is used to always being the calm in every storm. Grayson always told her to be prepared for the day Ethan cracks, but she never thought it would be tonight.

“You need to go.” She told him sternly, her breathing fast and shallow as cold sweat began to collect at the back of her neck and fear gripped her. She didn’t know what to expect from him, but she never dealt well with violence and Ethan felt violent. He felt like an out of control wildfire that was burning everything in its wake.

“I’m so sorry.” He whimpered from the other side of the door, his voice muffled by the wood. “I’m so fucking sorry for being a fuck up. You deserve so much better, I know you do but I can’t quit you. It’s impossible to forget you.” She could hear the tears in his words, each of them drenching her heart as well. But what can she do? Can she really trust him to control himself around her? Even so, could she let him go in such a state? She thought about calling Grayson, but by the time he gets there, it could be too late. So, she inhaled deeply before swallowing thickly, knowing her decision was never a decision really.

Moving to the door, she cracks the door open again. He stumbles, finding footing just before he falls. Sniffling, he wipes his nose with the back of his forearm, the anger seemingly gone but she still held her breath in anticipation of what could happen.

“I get if you don’t want to see me ever again, but there’s a video Gray and I did with Shane and it’s gonna be up in a few days. Can you do me a favor and watch it?” Fixed with his intense, heavy gaze, Y/N presses her lips together before nodding. She always watched his videos anyway. Sometimes she watched the old ones from before the entire mess began – back when they were a secret and he would always be so happy. Other times she watched the ones after he had dropped her, seeing through his mask and lies, but she seemed to be one of the few. But the new ones? Those were by far the most unconvincing videos they’ve ever made. Neither of the twins seemed right and yes, she would still watch to keep up with their lives, but she knew they weren’t happy.

She wasn’t happy either.

Especially not as she watched him leave.

She was supposed to be ecstatic about managing to break her bad habit for the first time, but why did it hurt so bad?

Turning around with a broken smile upon his plush lips, Ethan throws her a glance over his shoulder with a single purpose - to leave her with something else to think about.

“I’m done with Veronica. For good this time.”

PART 3

Tags: @beinscorpio​​ @godlydolans​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​ @peacedolantwins​​ @dolandolll​​ @heyits-claire​​ @ethanhes​

[mattzerella-sticks]

Constants (9.5k Supernatural fic) (ao3 link)

Meeting with alternate versions of themselves makes Sam and Dean think about what the landscape of the former multiverse might have looked like - or, really, "If there can be multiple Deans and multiple Sams, can there be other versions of things they know. Like... Baby?"

Dean says no. There's only one Baby. She's got four wheels, black paint, and has been his from the beginning. Sam thinks otherwise.

Let's explore what the possibilities of Deans, Sams, and Babys in different universes might look like.

Earth-1

           Dean wanders in with two beers, lifting them high as he enters. “There are our last two,” he calls, “Gonna have t’go on a supply run tomorrow!” Sam barely responds, nodding, too focused on his phone. “Hey,” he continues, setting the beers down in front of Sam. Slamming his brother’s hard. Not even a flinch. “Who’s that? Eileen?”

           Sam rolls his eyes, grabbing for the beer. “It’s us.”

           “Come again?”

           “Us,” Sam tells him, flashing his phone screen, “Other us. Rich us.” Dean takes the phone, bringing it closer for a better look. There, on the screen, were them. Somewhat. Half of the other Sam’s face appeared, mouth cut off by the camera. His hair sat atop his hair in a messy bun. Behind him, dressed in a flowing, flowery kaftan and holding an empty cocktail glass, was Dean’s reflection. Dean’s doppelganger points out at a beautiful skyline from the balcony of whatever hotel they camped in.

           “God,” Dean winces, “they sure are living the life, aren’t they?”

           “Of course they are,” his brother snorts, stealing his phone back. “They don’t have God breathing down their necks.”

           Dean sighs, collapsing across from Sam. “True… you think it’s too late to switch places?”

           “They’d never,” he scoffs, sipping his beer, “not even for your entire porn collection and Baby –“

           “Don’t joke about that,” Dean splutters. “Wherever we’d go, Baby’d come with us.”

           “Seriously?”

           “Absolutely. She’s… she’s Baby. Our Baby.” Dean waves his bottle around, droplets of condensation flung in all directions. “They might look like us, but they ain’t us. That Dean wouldn’t know what to do with her… probably’d toss a wad at some mechanic to fix her up instead of getting his own hands dirty…” Dean scowls, glaring at his beer bottle’s mouth. “Like, did you see their hands? Hardly any callouses… and they were too smooth. Bet he never spent hours over a sink trying to wash motor oil outta his nailbeds.”

           Sam leans back in his seat, enjoying the spiral of his brother’s tirade. Although he’s not fully present watching him. Curiosity circling around a tiny thought. Like sharks homing in on discarded chum. Before he realizes it, Sam asks, “You don’t know. Maybe they had their own Baby?”

           Dean pauses mid-sentence, gaze drifting from the bottle to Sam. “What?”

           “Just saying…” Sam shrugs, stringing together his next few words carefully. Uncomfortable with the dangerous glint shining in Dean’s eye. “There are probably an infinite number of universes – sorry… were. And on them, their own Dean and Sam. Maybe they had their own Baby’s?”

           “That better be a joke, Sammy,” Dean growls, sloshing some of his drink out of the bottle’s tiny mouth with how forcefully he points it at him. The splash nearly wets Sam’s knuckles. “You cannot even compare Baby to that – that… that mint green disgrace those losers showed up in.”

           “I wasn’t trying to compare!”

           “Because there’s only one Baby.” Dean can sense he overreacts, the ferociousness twinging his voice surprising him alongside Sam. He cannot contain the fire raging inside. “She’s special, and she’s unique, and she’s ours. There might’ve been a million you’s, and there might’ve been a million me’s… but throughout all of existence, no matter what Earth, there’s only one Baby!”

Earth-16

           Dean tosses two Jack’s, face-down, “Two twos –“

           “Bullshit!”

           He glares at Sam, dimples like craters on his cheeks. “You sure about that?” Dean asks, fanning his cards out. “You think I couldn’t have two twos in my hand? Or,” he gestures at the pile, “do you want all these cards?”

           Sam levels his own stare at Dean, dialing up the contempt. “Dean, I played four two’s three rounds ago – if you were paying attention you’d’ve known that. So, pick… them… up!” He barks fake laughter on beat, although it quickly becomes genuine as Dean gathers the pile. They’d gone the entire game without calling each other out, practically the whole deck was in Dean’s grip.

           The last few cards were in Sam’s hand. But not for long.

           He slides three cards down, grinning. “Three sevens.”

           “Dammit!” The cards spill onto the table, a few falling over the edge. Dean’s body sags, head dangling between his legs. “I can’t believe I lost!”

           “Serves you right for trying to trick me. Twos… what were they anyway?”

           “Jacks.”

           “Why wouldn’t you just say that, then?”

           “Because the game’s boring when you tell the truth all the time!” Dean drags tired hands down his face, pulling at his skin. “Out of all the chances you had to call bullshit, just when I was so close…” He slaps the table, mood reversing immediately. “Let’s play again. Best three out of five!”

           Sam sighs in agreement, gathering the cards. Except, as he does, a shadow steps into view. Someone reaches forward and slaps his hands, forcing him to drop the cards. More falls onto the floor. Hissing, Sam glances up at the intruder.

           Rufus stands over them, brow arched wryly. “No more games, you two,” he orders, “you were supposed to start cleaning a half-hour ago.” He kicks the bucket filled with supplies near Dean’s chair, almost toppling it over. It wobbles, sound echoing around them. “Get to it,” Rufus says, walking away, “And when you’re done, do a full inventory check.”

           “Rufus!” Dean yells at his retreating figure, “You know I restock her after every call!”

           “You think that makes a difference? Full inventory check – and I want the report on my desk.” Rufus ends the conversation, bounding up the stairs towards the second floor. Undoubtedly hiding away until the alarms blare and spurs them all into action.

           Dean folds his arms across his chest, huffing. “Don’t know why we gotta wash her again,” he mutters, “I washed, dried, and detailed Baby this morning!”

           “Yeah,” Sam says, gathering the cards again, “but we were out earlier, at that apartment fire?”

           “We weren’t close enough for ash to get on her roof.”

           “Then maybe he’s doing this because he caught you fooling around in her body the other night,” Sam reminds Dean, standing. He throws the box of cards at his brother, snickering at how he fumbles the catch. He places it down with a grumble. “Why you thought you’d get away with it…”

           Dean rises, too, blush creeping up his neck past his blue, uniform collar. “I was making sure her vitals were okay, that’s all…”

           It’s a poor excuse; they both know it. He grabs for the bucket’s handle, hiding from Sam’s condemnation. “Sure.” They shuffle out the break room into the apparatus bay, passing by their fellow teammates enjoying down time. “But hopefully you’ll think twice before playing doctor.”

           “As if. I’m seeing her tonight. And,” Dean wiggles his fingers, grin wide on his face, “this time I’ll be helping her check for lumps on her breasts!”

           “Gross, what are you – fourteen?”

           “Dude, you’re just jealous…” Dean trails off as they pass the last fire truck and enter the ambulance territory. His face lights up in that special way when he catches sight of her, that eases the tension in his shoulders and injects more bounce in his step. No matter how much he might whine about caring for her, Sam knows Dean would gladly work overtime – has worked overtime – in keeping her in top shape. Their home away from home, where they travel the city helping those in need.

           Dean knew her longer. Told stories about his assigned truck over dinners, in his free time, and whenever Sam had free time when studying for his exams. Sam never truly understood how an ambulance could leave such an impact on one man. Why he’d give her a nickname, and say it so fondly. It was a car. A means to and end. Drives them where they need and nothing more. But then Rufus chose Sam for his squad, made him and Dean partners.

           Then it made sense. She wasn’t an ambulance. Baby – Dean’s affectionate nickname for her – was part of the team. The third member of their operation. Without her, they’d be ineffective. Once, after a gnarly crash that took Baby out of commission for a month while they repaired her, they drove another in the interim.

           It didn’t handle right. Dean found the clutch sticking every now and then, the pedals squeaky. Sam’s response time doubled because he couldn’t remember where the necessary instruments were. Working inside that replacement was hell, and there were too many close calls.

           When they saw Baby waiting, almost brand new, during their next shift, both he and Dean nearly broke down. Dean denies it, but he let a few tears slip free.

           Luckily, since then, they haven’t been separated. Through squad rotations, disasters, and aging, none of them felt ready for retirement.

           “Y’know,” Dean says, wiping at her front window. Sam on the other side, doing the same to her mirror. “I was wondering… how’d Baby look if she were painted black?”

           “Black?” Sam asks, “Why black?”

           “Dunno… it’d be cool, right?”

           “It’d be ominous as fuck, Dean.” Sam’s lips pinch, holding back laughter. “How’d you feel if you were bleeding out and a large, black truck came speeding at you?”

           Dean winces, picturing the image. “Yeah, okay… I get it.” He steps away from Baby, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Still be cool, though.” Clapping, he looks at Sam. “So, do you want to do the inventory or should I?”

           “Rufus was clearly talking to you when he said that.”

           “But you’re the one who spends all his time back there. I should be calibrating the brakes, making sure her on-board systems are synced, y’know…”

           Sam glowers, slapping her hood with another rag. “Dean, I am not doing your work for you.”

           “But Sam –“!

           Ringringringringringringringringringringring

           The apparatus bay becomes awash in a flurry of activity. Firefighters scrambling from their posts, jumping into their uniforms. Both Dean and Sam scan the room as it seems like the entire building rushes for the exits.

           Dean brushes a gentle hand across Baby’s hood. “Guess Rufus’ll have to wait for that inventory report.”

           Sam agrees. The three of them have lives to save.

Earth-84b

           Dean closes his eyes as the wind hits his face, savoring its caress. His feet push off the pedals, legs stretched straight while they roll down the hill. He can hear Sam’s ragged breathing in front of him, still cycling. “Dean,” he growls, “stop fooling around and help. A bicycle built for two means it needs two people to work it.”

           “I know,” he says, “I’m the one who bought Baby. Not you.”

           The curve of the hill flattens out, and Dean blinks his eyes open. He resumes pedaling, chasing the high that only comes from riding Baby with his brother on a perfect, summer day.

Earth-1 A-corn

           Dean knows the human toy takes up space in his nest he could use for storing more nuts. The oblong piece of plastic serves no function and draws blank stares whenever other squirrels visit his nest. But he dares not throw it away.

           Seeing the toy brings him as much joy as it did when he first laid eyes on it one afternoon, spying on little humans. Captivated him, put Dean under its spell. When the two were called back by an even larger human, Dean scurried forward. Sniffed it. Laid a paw on its wheel and spun it. Hearing the click and whir made him giggle. As the wheel’s spinning petered out, Dean came to a decision.

           He carried the toy home, where it has become a part of his family. And every member of Dean’s family deserves a name.

           So, he calls her Baby.

Earth-R0ck

           “Where in the bloody hell can your brother be?”

           Sam shrugs, spinning his drumsticks in hand. “I saw him chatting up that reporter from Rolling Stones on our way out from the venue…”

           Crowley stops, pressing his phone against his shoulder. No doubt trying Dean’s number again. “Rolling Stone?” he hisses, “And why didn’t you stay with him?”

           “Wasn’t that kind of interview…” Sam saw the glint in Dean’s eye, shifting back into his stage persona as he strode over towards the blonde with the press pass. She didn’t look too impressed with his brother, but Dean charmed stiffer lips. He only hopes his brother doesn’t bring her back to the bus for a quickie. Sam would prefer not being locked out in the bitter cold.

           Like they are now.

           “Why your brother insists on keeping the keys…” Crowley mutters, rolling his eyes. He holds his phone up once more, flicking it off with a heavy scowl. “I’m going to go find him. And if I have to see his naked ass, balls deep in this reporter, then I’m dropping you two as my clients.”

           Sam calls to his departing figure. “No you won’t!” He chuckles at Crowley’s one-finger salute, watching the shorter British man enter the club.

           A beat passes, drumming the air. If needed, he could wait there until Dean finishes or Crowley brings him back with blue balls. But he feels something land on his head. And another. Then, on his nose.

           Snowflakes.

           “Damn…”

           The flurry shows no signs of stopping. Increasing with each passing minute. When white powder dusts his shoulders, Sam makes a decision. He rises, shaking snow off of him. “Sorry about this Baby,” Sam says, patting the section of their bus where her name was spray-painted, “but I’m gonna get a little handsy.”

           This was not the first time Sam said this. Nor did what he does now. When the brothers were first starting out in their band, and all they had were their instruments and Baby, Dean had an abandonment issue. Finding fans in the audience and following them home, keys still on him as he wouldn’t let anyone drive Baby but him. If Sam couldn’t find his own bed for the night, then it’d be him and the asphalt.

           Until he learned this neat little trick.

           Sam wedges the backdoor open, easing it. Making sure the hinges don’t break. Assured Baby is fine, Sam starts shoving their equipment through. “How many years,” he growls, rolling his drum, “and I haven’t made a duplicate key yet?”

           The drums were hard but loading Dean’s guitar takes seconds. Sam steps onto the bus, halfway in, when he hears his brother, “What did you do?”

           He looks behind him. Dean, ruffled and fuming, stands next to an equally displeased Crowley. Sam smirks, fully lifting himself into the bus. “I got tired of waiting.” Shutting the door on Dean’s yelling, Sam settles in for a drive filled with shouting, cursing, and more shouting. If he’s lucky, he’ll be asleep soon.

Earth-1969

           Dean’s grip on his wheel tightens, negativity surfacing despite the groovy music, chill vibes, and the sweet smell of grass that drifts about the cabin. “Seriously,” he mutters, watching another group of people traipse by from the driver’s seat, “we’ve been here for over an hour. How have we not moved yet?”

           “Dude relax…” Sam chuckles from the back, sprawled across the shag carpeting they installed weeks before, gutting most of the van’s interior for greater mobility. Joint dangling out of his loose grip, “We’ll get there when we get there.”

           “Easy for you to say…” He shifts his attention from behind to the traffic again. An inch of space opened, but Dean keeps their van stationary. Doesn’t expect a miracle like traffic clearing up any time soon. Dean sighs, dragging his legs up and onto the dashboard. Stretches out until his toes poke at the windshield. Reaching into the back, he curls his fingers. “Let me have some.”

           “What’s the magic word, Dean?”

           “Quit stallin’ – I bought the damn grass, Sammy!”

           Sam pokes his head up, dropping the joint in his waiting hand. “It was please. You knew that.” He rests his chin near the other headrest, sighing. “Do you think you’ll be this pissy when we get there? Or will you let yourself enjoy the concert?”

           Dean sucks down his hit, hissing a breath between clenched teeth. “I’m sure it’ll be a real gas, Sammy… if we ever get there.”

           They’d been looking forward to this the entire summer. This being Woodstock. Three days of peace, love, music… and people. Too many people. Probably half the country, Dean thinks, taking another hit. All the other kids like Sam and Dean who traversed great lengths for a taste of freedom. Escaping from under the oppressive thumb of the man.

           Their ‘man’ went by the name John Winchester. When he heard where the brothers were headed, he was anything but pleased; actually, he forbid them from leaving. Confiscated Dean’s keys and grounded them.

           He did not go far enough, given how he and Sam idled a few miles outside Bethel. Dean stole back his Baby’s keys and left a little special treat for John. One good trip deserves another, and maybe once they return their father will be in a better mood. Groovier. More attuned with a higher plane of existence.

           Although Dean wishes he kept some of that acid on him. Reaching a higher plane sounds pretty nice. Emptier, too.

           “Hey,” Sam shakes him from his reflection, “look at what they’re doing!” He points past Dean, finger bending against the windshield near his feet. A car drives off the road and onto a nearby shoulder. It rolls to a stop, doors flung open as an entire tribe pours free. They gather their bags and join the crowds pouring through the cracks between cars. Like fish swimming upstream. Swimming home. “Maybe we should do that, too?”

           Dean scowls, pushing Sam’s arm out of his way. “Like hell I’m abandoning Baby!”

           “She’ll be fine, Dean. There’s no way she can get hurt here…” Sam drops both his hands on Dean’s bare shoulders, kneading the skin there. After taking the joint back from him, though, and biting on the end. “How can anyone get hurt – feel bad or… or do harm – when we’re this close to paradise?”

           It’s a convincing argument. Dean resists being swayed easily, however.

           He cannot leave Baby on her own. Not after everything they’ve been through. Not the first real thing that is his.

           Dean spotted her on his twentieth birthday. Taking a break from work, bumming a joint from his co-worker Ash, they watched Bobby haul in a wrecked van with his rusty tow. She creaked and groaned, sparks trailing behind as her bumper scraped the ground. Ash nudged him, chuckling, “She’s a piece of work, ain’t she?”

           He agreed, for a different reason. Time stretched at that moment, seconds passing like days. Dean felt a powerful force shake the core of his very being, Bobby bringing her close enough that his gaze caught both her headlights. She called out.

           And he answered.

           “It’s not like she’ll be doing good, sitting out there – collecting dust with the other scrap,” he argued. Paced Bobby’s office, fingers twitching through his hair while detailing all the reasons he deserved the wrecked van. “And you can take out whatever parts I use in repairing her from my pay. Hell, I can work on her overtime and you don’t have to give me shit.”

           Bobby steepled his fingers together, slouching in his chair. Face impassive while he absorbed Dean’s rambling. His silence exacerbated his nerves, Dean tasting copper from how hard he bit his lips. Finally, Bobby sighed. “I was gonna use her for scrap,” he says, standing, “but if you can get the ol’ gal working… she’s yours. Besides, ‘bout time you had something other than that pansy ass bicycle you got.”

           “Thank you, Bobby, thanks…” Emotion swelled from within, Dean at a loss for words. Instead, he threw his arms around his boss, squeezing him tight. “Thank you.” Jumping off, he fled the room. “I promise, she’ll be perfect!”

           That began a beautiful, but maddening, relationship.

           She was on his mind all the time. If Dean were working on another car, he wondered if she would need the same maintenance. While eating dinner, he thought about the many joints he could swing by for a quick bite. A few times, while in the throes of LSD, he envisioned her appearing in front of him. Honking, revving an engine he hadn’t fixed – her ways of communicating. During one of these trips, she told him her name.

           “Baby?” Sam asked, sitting on the ground a few feet from where Dean worked. Pencil in hand, midway through a sketch. “She told you her name was Baby?”

           Dean poked his head out the hood, wiping at sweat camping above his brow. “Yeah. I mean… don’t know why I didn’t see it before. She looks like a Baby, y’know?”

           “Whatever.” Sam continued drawing, bangs falling over his face, “Hey, you think you can get her working by Sunday night? Heard there’s a party downtown, and the band they booked will be far out.”

           “Maybe if you lend a hand?”

           Sam ignored Dean’s pleas for help. Dean carried on, not expecting an answer. His brother never had the talent for cars like he did. Honed under Bobby’s gruff tutelage. He left his mark on Baby in his own way, painting a psychedelic landscape across her body after the mechanics and interior were finished.

           Together, they brought new life to a magnificent beauty. She repays them by delivering them where they need.

           Which, if they left her now, would be like a betrayal. Baby had already been cast aside once, on her deathbed. Dean cannot leave her. Even if the first day of Woodstock arrives and they were still in this same place.

           “Dean…”

           “I can’t, Sam,” Dean winces, fiddling with his pendant. Shifts, feet on the pedals again. “I just… yeah, nothing should happen. Can’t help think that…” He trails off, gazing out the window. Thoughts disappearing, burned up from the radiant light of an angel who deigned catch his stare.

           He’s gorgeous. Mussed, raven hair, blue eyes tinged red from grass, and a frumpy, suede jacket marked with scratches and scuff marks. The man briefly passes the door, one of the many walking. He smiles, then carries on conversing with his friend.

           Sam waves a hand in front of Dean, breaking the connection. “Dean?” he asks, “Hey, hey Dean? You okay there? …This was some weak shit, brother, shouldn’t hit you too bad.”

           “What? No… it wasn’t – wasn’t the grass, dude.”

           “Then what?”

           “I…” Dean tries finding his angel, sees him being swallowed by others. Soon he’ll be gone. And it’d be in fates hands whether they meet again. Unless…

           Suddenly the song on the radio fades, replaced by another. It’s one Dean doesn’t recognize; the station name is as unfamiliar. At some point the signals must have switched, a notorious problem Baby has. He listens as the melody begins, building to the chorus. The chorus plays, and Dean knows. And he smiles.

           Dean pulls over, shifting into park. Sam tumbles from the sudden jerk, “What are you doing?”

           “Parking, Sam. Don’t you know?” He takes the keys, shoving them in his pocket. “We’re gonna walk the rest of the way.”

           Sam blinks, smoke creeping past his lips. “Why the change of heart?”

           “It’s like the song, Sam… everything’s gonna be all right!” Dean hops out of Baby, Sam clambering alongside him through the side door. “Come on, let’s get going!”

           “What about our stuff?”

           “We’ll come back for it later – come on.” He drags his brother off the grassy patch and onto the hot pavement. The fleeting regret of not grabbing his shoes flits by, feet burning with every step, but he grows accustomed soon enough. They enter the meandering pack, Dean looking back at Baby one last time.

           She waits there, encouraging him forward. Always.

Earth-G00-g4

           Sammy rocks with the motion of this strange, red box he’s sat in, crawling along slowly. Older brother Dean grunting as he tugs on the handle. “We’re almoth there, Thammy,” he says, stopping, the bright red box rolling into his legs. Jostling Sammy as it stops. “Juth a few more blockth.” Dean looks behind at him, bright smile encouraging one on Sammy’s face. He gurgles and claps his hands together, bouncing. “That’s right! Get pumped! If we’re gonna take down those monthers, we’ll need t’be ready!”

           He has no concept of what Dean means when he talks about ‘monthers’. But from what he gleans, Sammy thinks it’s a game they’ll be playing. Reinforced as he notices the busted fire hydrant they always pass when visiting the park with Mommy.

           Vibrating now, Sammy shakes the red box. Babbling, going on about how excited he is for whatever game Dean thought up.

           Dean gnaws on his lip with the one front tooth still in his mouth. “Careful with Baby, Sammy… you’re gonna tip her over!”

Earth-10k

           “…with state-of-the-art tracking upgrades, undetectable weapons systems, and the most fuel-efficient engine the geniuses in R&D spent weeks agonizing over,” Dean slaps the roof of the pale teal smart car parked among rows of sleek, shiny, luxury vehicles, “Baby Number Twenty-Three is prepped and ready for our next hunt.”

           Sam snorts, raising his glass in celebration. “That’s all well and good, Dean… but can we still get NPR?”

           “Still get NPR?” Dean giggles, lips stretched in a tight, droll grin. “Samuel, the dashboard computer has an entire library filled with NPR’s back catalogue that we can listen to without a signal.”

           “Good. Then we won’t be stuck listening to classic rock like during our last stakeout.”

           “Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m still trying to scrub my memory of the awful noise.”

           “Took me three hours with some freeform jazz. Why don’t we put that on while we finish up this bubbly?”

           Dean agrees, leaning through the window and hitting a button. Saxophones, trumpets, and an enchanting snare drum pour from the speakers. He sighs, leaning back out. “Now this… this is music.”

           Sam reaches across the roof, tipping his glass. “Here, here.” Dean brings his own glass close. Clink!

Earth-783

           Baby’s retired, but still loved. Hangs proudly on a wall between framed photographs of a young John Winchester, standing beside her on the beach with medals draped around his neck. Taken down whenever she loses her luster, and either Dean or Sam wax the shine back on her sleek, black wood.

           Years after John’s death, no one takes her on the waves. Out of respect: for her, their father, and the bond they shared. Nothing more sacred than the love of a surfer and his board. They own a variety of boards – collected them. Beautiful boards, expensive ones, and the special few that have earned the brothers trophies, medals, and titles.

           But there will only be one Baby.  

Earth-2390.45

           Sam waits by the open hangar doors, two beers in hand. Charlie stands nearby, binoculars held in shaky hands. “He’s cutting it a bit close, isn’t he?”

           “This is Dean we’re talking about,” he tells her, “you know how he gets when he’s up there.”

           “But he radioed in he was almost out of fuel! And that the left wing felt loose, and -”

           “He’ll be fine,” Sam says, nudging her. Charlie looks away from the skies, glaring at him. He offers her one of the beers. “You know it. How many times has he flown her?”

           She sighs, taking the drink. “Practically all his life…” Sipping at it, she frowns. Gestures wildly with her binoculars. “Still, I feel like recently he’s been taking too many risks. Making things more difficult than he needs!”

           “Maybe he has,” Sam shrugs, “maybe it’s gotten boring, doing the same thing day in and out. So what if he bends the rules a little.”

           “It matters when he could crash!”

           “No, Dean wouldn’t go that way.” Sam smiles, Baby’s shape growing as she descends. Silhouette sharpening, engine growing louder. “He might be pushing his limits. Seeing how he can handle different situations… but we both know how much he loves that plane. Dean’d never do anything that puts her in jeopardy.”

           Charlie hums. “I… guess your right.”

           “Although,” he amends, grinning at her. Baby skidding to a stop on the runway, advancing towards them, “you can definitely chew him out for all that, too.”

Earth-200

           Day after day, it’s the same routine. Sam and Dean return to their trailers at around four o’clock. They strip out of plaid shirts and denim, leaving their boxers and – if they were wearing them before – tanks on. For the next two hours, the brothers drift throughout the trailer while getting ready. Still undressed, powdering and painting their faces. Sometimes interrupted, like when one of their friends stops by for some quick gossip. Or Cas the fire swallower stops by, flirting with Dean as Sam perfects the curve of his eyebrow. If that runs long Sam will shoo him away with his wig, dragging Dean from the door.

           It’s one of those nights.

           “I don’t know why you won’t do anything,” Sam chuckles, fitting the rainbow curls over his head, “You two’ve been in love since we were kids.”

           Dean’s glare shines through his reflection, although the massive red make-up smeared across his lips and fake tears under his eyes reduce the effect. “Shut up,” he says, applying more rouge, “it’s not… he wouldn’t be interested in me like that. ‘Sides, his dad is our boss. Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

           “I think it’d be awkward if you didn’t,” he says, “if he’s anything like our folks, Bobby’s already planning your wedding.”

           “Shut up…”

           Sam adds the last touch, adhering his bulbous red nose with some glue. He studies his face in the vanity mirror, checking for any mistakes. There’s none. Years of practice meant his mind could wander aimlessly but his hand will ensure a clean, finished mask every time. A mask for the people. A mask of his heritage. A mask that transforms Sam Winchester into Sammy the Angry Clown, straight man of the Campbell Duo.

           Odd how, when he was younger, Sam never imagined a life like this. Like the one his parents’ imagined for him. Fought them at every turn, even applying for college. To become a lawyer. “A clown without the joy,” his dad called it.

           But that’s the past. Now, he’s climbing into his multi-colored pantsuit and stuffing his large feet into even larger shoes. Dean does the same, handing Sam some ruffles while he searches the trailer for his shoes. “Do you know where I put them?”

           “Check the chest,” Sam says, “I might’ve thrown them in there while cleaning.”

           “Why were you cleaning?”

           “To practice my unicycle.” Sam grabs some bowling pins stacked beside their sofa. “I didn’t want to trip over them and crash through the window… again.”

           Dean snorts, digging through the chest per Sam’s instructions. “That was your own fault. Wasn’t my magazine left splayed open on – found ‘em!” He pulls the floppy shoes free, waving them around. His accomplishment doesn’t last. Dean notices that the sole peels around the toe box, and by poking at the tear he rips it further. “Dammit… I’m gonna look like one of those hobo clowns.”

           “Why don’t you wrap some duct tape around your shoe,” Sam tells him, rising. “You’d still look like a hobo, but you won’t scare any kids with your funky feet.”

           “Funny. What are you… a clown?”

           “Takes one to know one, Dean!” Sam opens their trailer door, stepping outside, “I’m gonna go make sure our act’s ready. Why don’t you find me when you’re done getting ready?” Dean yells at him, Sam missing it as he lets the door slam behind him – cutting his brother off.

           He traipses through the field towards the main tent, nodding along whenever someone passed. Never staying for a conversation. The other acts and crew could see he was busy, juggling the bowling pins. Always practicing, always perfecting. Dedication to the craft both embedded in his DNA and taught early on. Gifts his parents gave.

           Like this. A small, yellow bug splattered with multi-colored spots and with multiple dents along her body. Her name messily scrawled on the driver’s side door – Baby. His father’s car, that he and his mom would perform in when they still clowned. The only thing John had of his father, that he passed on after hanging up the big, red shoes.

           Sam slows his juggling, catching the third pin on its last arc. He shuffles the trio into one hand while he lifts the trunk with his other. The rest of their supplies lie in wait, left in usual chaotic dysfunction. Dropping the pins, Sam mentally checks off each part of the routine as he inspects the props.

           Dean arrives halfway through, Sam handing off the giant, flake flower. He accepts it, pinning it on his tie. “Is it full?”

           “Yep,” Sam helps feed the tube through his collar, watching Dean tug it down until the pump sits at his wrist. Dean’s fingers twitch. “Don’t even think about it. Save it for the act.”

           “You’re no fun.”

           “That’s the act, isn’t it?” Sam chuckles, closing Baby’s trunk. “Or is your memory getting spotty in your age?”

           Dean rolls his eyes, shoving lightly at Sam. Sam responds in kind, nearly knocking Dean into some elephant dung no one cleaned up. He leans on Baby while he cackles, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. A nice distraction comes from Dean, who rams into his side. They streak over Baby, rolling off her and onto the hay-covered floor. Struggling, drawing the attention of everyone dawdling backstage.

           They dirty their outfits some, but there’s enough time before the show starts. Sam expected some mishap, schedule built-in with extra time for unforeseen accidents or brotherly spats.

           Day after day, it’s the same. He and Dean will cram into this tiny car, shoulders aching from how they press against each other. Packed in like sardines. Waiting for the musical cut that will send them into the ring. They’ll circle and circle while the audience claps, stopping when the tiny amount of gas in Baby’s tank runs dry. Then their long legs will unfold, stepping out under the spotlight.

           The act begins, and Sam cannot fathom a life without the roar of the crowd, his brother by his side, and their family’s chariot. Without laughter.

Earth-4499

           Providence seems more a dream than an actual destination. Especially after they sacrificed one of their oxen for meat, their reserves dangerously low.

           “Don’t worry, Sam,” Dean says, rubbing his shoulder, “we still got the other. And Baby. We’ll be in Oregon by November!”

           Sam doubts that, the fall chill cutting through their thin button-downs. His temperament was not aided by an earlier stumble in some mud, robbing him of dry shoes. Right now, he bundles another blanket around his bare feet; shuddering a ghostly breath while Dean whips the ox forward.

           Baby, their large Conestoga, might look sturdy. But her wheels creak more with each passing day. From an outsider’s perspective, she looks safe. They would be shocked hearing how, when fording a river, she tipped. Brothers nearly drowning under her weight. She might appear warm. But Sam’s frostbitten fingers and red nose prove its faults.

           Dean wouldn’t part with her for a better model, however. “She’s family, Sam,” Dean says, “When ma and pa set forth, all they had was her. We’ll do the same.”

           Sentimentality might be their downfall. Soon, Baby won’t be a wagon. Nor will she be a reminder of their home. Baby will be their coffins.

           Sam sneezes, and hopes it’s the only one for the day. His rumbling stomach already offers its own worries.

Earth-92

           Days like these Dean wishes he kept working. Jack kept kicking his seat, an arrhythmic pattern that forces his lips into a stern frown. And between his crying and Claire’s complaining, Dean misses most of what his husband says. “Can you please repeat that?” he asks, spinning the dial towards its highest setting.

           “I said,” Cas’s voice booms, Dean wincing from the sound, “That the doctor called my cell. He was able to fit me in Saturday at four. You’re not using the car, then, right?”

           “No, I –“

           “Jack! Stop it, you can’t have my phone while I’m using it!”

           “I wanna turn! I wanna turn!”

           “One moment…” He eases the brake pedal, slowing before the red light. Then, Dean whips around to face his children. “Jack, Claire, can you please keep the volume down while your pop and I are talking?”

           Claire huffs, leaning forward. Out of Jack’s reach, his youngest straining in the car seat for her phone. She types on it, not looking at him. “Tell that to Jack. I’m talking with Alex.”

           “Won’t you be seeing her in five minutes anway?”

           “It’s important –“

           Someone honks from behind them. Dean checks the traffic light, seeing green instead of red. “Shi-shoot.” He switches pedals, watching the road again. “Claire, give Jack one of his toys and put your phone away.”

           Claire groans, stomping her foot. “Why should I?”

           “If he can’t see it, he won’t want it.” After a moment’s silence, Dean checks the rearview mirror. She disobeys him, still using it. “Claire, I swear if you don’t put that away I’m driving us home.”

           “But dad –“

           “Don’t ‘but dad’ me, baby girl. Away.” Tone stern, he glimpses her shove the phone in her gym bag. Then grabs a dropped toy nearby. Dean sighs, focusing ahead of him – and on his husband. “Sorry about that.”

           “No need,” Cas chuckles, papers shuffling in the background, “I enjoy it when you’re the bad cop. It doesn’t happen every day…”

           “Because I hate it,” he grumbles, checking his blind spot while switching lanes, “so when you get home, ground Claire.”

           “Why?”

           “I don’t know. Make one up, and then I can talk you out of punishing her and be the good cop again.”

           “Dads, you know I can hear you, right?”

           “Quiet sweetie, adults are talking!” Dean hits his blinkers, making the left turn when appropriate. “So, the doc’s got you coming in that late? Is it important?” Nerves make his voice crack on the last word, and Dean hates how it does.

           Cas hums from the other end, Dean imagining his husband’s pinched expression while he chooses his words carefully. To not worry him. “She mentioned something cholesterol. I think she wants to see me about my diet.”

           “If that’s all,” Dean says, drumming his fingers along the wheel, “you better not sell me down the river.”

           “I’ll try not to, but if she asks why I eat an abnormal amount of sweets I’ll have to be honest.” Cas laughs, Dean’s chest warming from the volume. At this volume, it feels like the soundwaves wrap him in a warm blanket. “Oh, I have to go. Your brother’s pointing at his watch from outside my office. I think we’re supposed to have a meeting?”

           “Then what are you still doing on the phone?”

           “Telling you and Jack and Claire that I love you. All of you. And Claire, good luck at practice today!”

           “Thanks, dad!”

           He hangs up, Dean lowering the volume before the radio comes back and deafens them. Unfortunately, he wishes it would. Because as Cas disappeared, his children’s bickering started up again. Jack upset that Cas didn’t wish him ‘good luck’. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t taking a karate class, nor comprehended what the concept of luck was. Claire received well wishes, he didn’t, and that is what he took away from the call.

           They worked Dean’s last nerve. His vision blurred from the stress, Jack’s tantrum doubling in its fury. He drove on autopilot, too busy keeping calm. Finally, after Jack’s figure was thrown and hit the front windshield, Dean felt the straw rip. At the next red light, Dean acted.

           “That’s it,” he turned, leaning into the second row. Claire and Jack stopped fighting immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. Dean must look crazed, but he cannot care enough to soften his features. Their fighting ripped off the warm blanket Cas’s voice provided, and he was chilled from the sudden exposure. “You two will sit quietly for the rest of the ride, otherwise when we get home it’s dinner and nothing else. Got it?” Claire nods sullenly, Jack fighting tears welling under his eyes. Dean’s heart seizes seeing his son upset, and that helps break frenzy fogging his senses. “I’m sorry for blowing up like that,” Dean says, calmer, “but when daddy’s behind the wheel he needs to concentrate. Otherwise people can get hurt. We could get hurt. And nothing would make me feel worse than if either of you kids were hurt because of me. I love you both too much to let that happen, okay? So please… be good?”

           “Okay, daddy…” Jack sniffles, wiping at his eyes, “sorry…”

           “Thank you, Jack.”

           Dean retakes the wheel as the light turns green. It’s a block from Claire’s dojo, Dean readying his blinker. When he hits the gas, however, the car stays still.

           By the time he realizes that, a semi-truck speeds through the intersection. Blowing its red light. Dean chokes back his curse, cars honking around him.

           “Dad?” Claire asks, pitching forward in her seat, “Dad, what happened?”

           “The uh… the car…” Dean steps on the gas pedal again, working now. He slowly inches through, drifting towards the first open space he finds. When parked, Dean’s composure fractures completely. Shattering into dust that piles in the footwell.

           They were almost… that truck – it’s idiot driver – almost totaled their car. Did the very thing he warned Jack and Claire about. Images of bent metal, crumpled bodies, and blood cause the bile in his stomach to threateningly react. He squeezes his eyes, breathing deep until those pictures are replaced with soothing blankness. Counting, using the tricks his therapist imparted after his last big crash all those years ago. Getting his mind off the what could have happened and onto what did.

           He’s safe. His kids, Claire and Jack, they’re safe. The car is –

           The car. Dean hit the gas pedal but it didn’t budge.

           At the dealer, when Dean searched for a new car after his old lease was up, the salesman hyped up all the new features. Sam listened with a skeptical ear, always asking questions. The right ones. Ones that made Dean feel smarter about his choices. He was in the car, too, with Dean and John. That fateful night.

           “And this new safety feature?” Sam asked, dragging his hand along the black hood, “how exactly does it work?”

           The salesman pointed at the front bumper. “It’s got built in sensors that are connected to the dashboard system. If it detects any danger, it can react faster than a human could. So if you and your husband –“

           “Brother.”

           “Right, brother, sorry, were driving –“

           “This is his car. Not mine.”

           “Well… if he’s driving, and he’s distracted because of something. And doesn’t see a pedestrian coming. Maybe a kid chasing a ball into the street… the car would stop for him.”

           Dean knew which car he was leasing, then. Waiting for the sales pitch to wrap up so he can sign the three-year contract. A year in, though, Dean might screw the lease and buy the car fully. Make her the last Baby they ever get.

           The Baby that survived.

Earth-32

           Sam slams on the wheel, cursing as their car sputters off the road and onto untouched gravel. “No! No no no…”

           “Sam!” Dean turns in his seat, gun still smoking. “Why’d you stop?”

           “I didn’t,” he tells his brother, punching the wheel. It honks, rolling somewhat. Inching forward. “Damn car’s broken.”

           Dean scowls, gun tilting dangerously towards him. “Don’t you talk about Baby like that.”

           If there were time, Sam would calmly tiptoe through an apology while explaining what he meant in a manner Dean’s sensitive ego would appreciate. Unfortunately, Sam can hear the sirens approaching. And dust from the barren plains rides the gust, stinging his eyes. Compound his irritation from Baby’s fit. Meaning he accepts Dean’s twitching trigger finger without worry. “I don’t think we’re getting out of this.”

           “Yes we are,” Dean says. He shoves the gun at Sam, jerking a thumb behind him. “Switch with me. She just needs a more practiced hand s’all.” While rounding the dark grey Ford, Sam stares into the distance. Red and blue flash, appearing over the curve. Dean ignores them, whispering for only his Baby. “I knew I should’ve been at the wheel. Even if it meant we were cutting it close.” Sam enters as Dean tries the ignition again.

           Baby coughs, struggles, and then falls silent.

           “No,” Dean groans, anger heavying his tone, “don’t be mad at me, girl. It’s me. Ol’ Dean…”

           Sam thinks up a silent prayer. Sends it off in case there were angels listening. “Dean,” he says, laying a hand on his brother.

           “We’ll be okay,” he lies, grin laughable despite how hard he tries. “We’ve been in worse scrapes before… always got out. Just another story for the news to run s’all. Winchester Brothers escape once more with their spoils, baffling pig cops and the king of sows himself, Ness…” Dean keeps up turning the keys. She doesn’t even feign a response at this point.

           “Dean.” Sam tears Dean’s hands away. They’re shaking. Or maybe he is. Both of them are, knowing what waits them in the next few minutes. “It’s okay.”

           Dean stares at his lap, tears threatening to spill. Like all his life, Dean reels them back before they can fall. “You think this was how we were gonna go out?”

           “Always feared it might happen,” Sam admits, checking the ammunition in Dean’s tommy. Half-spent. “But I guess it’s par for the course when you do what we do. Did you?”

           “No,” he shrugs, “even know it doesn’t feel… real, y’know? How could this happen to us? Dean and Sam – they called us the Untouchables. We’re fucking legends.”

           “Maybe we weren’t the legends we thought, then.” A depressing thought that makes Dean slump further into his seat. Sam can see the sirens without turning his head, cars skidding in their approach surrounding them. He reaches for his gun, past the bags of money, and tosses it. Dean catches the heavier weapon. “But if we are… let’s hope there’s truth in that saying. About legends never dying.”

           “Winchesters!” a deep, gravelly voice shouts from outside. Eliot Ness no doubt. “Come out with your hands up! If you make this easy on yourselves, I promise we can put you up in a nice pad behind bars where you belong!”

           Dean looks past Sam out the window. Probably at Ness, himself. Meeting his stare. A tension existed there that went far beneath their professions and duties. He glances at Sam, “At least we’re going together.”

           “Let’s give ‘em hell.”

           Sam fires two shots as he exits the car. Dean barely opened the driver’s side door. Bullets rained upon them like a maelstrom, piercing them. Turning them into dust like that which they came from.

           It comes in moments. Sam being held in Dean’s arms as their farmhouse burnt in front of them, mother lost. A drunk father who could barely raise a decent crop when America thrived. Days and days spent with a nose buried in books. When he took breaks from those, Dean made sure he lived life. Swimming in creeks, riding horses. Asking girls on dates after his brother talked him up.

           Loans on the family property eating away at his father, more than the booze ever did. Burying him in a shallow plot near their mother. Losing the farm, thumbing across the country alongside every other victim of this Depression.

           The hunger, the sleeplessness – the bank manager with poor temperament and slippery fingers. Their first robbery. So unpracticed, he and Dean only found their getaway car after committing the crime. Stealing her, too.

           She was more than a car, though. She was home when the heat was scalding, and getting a room risked their lives. She was a symbol, of Dean and Sam, of their notoriety. She was their friend, helping them sort through issues.

           Fitting, that when she died, so did they.

           He blinks, feeling lightheaded. Body sluggish from blood loss. A shadow steps forward, bending, revealing Ness’s tanned face. Ness removes his hat, scanning Sam’s limp figure.

           “Seemed a lot taller in the reports…”

Earth-81a

           Dean polishes Baby’s handles one last time, loving how she glints in the sunlight. He rocks on his heels until gravity tips him over, forcing him onto his ass. Leans back, hands resting on asphalt as he pulls his knees towards his chest.

           “Hey,” Sam calls, “who said you were done?”

           He ignores his brother, staring at his beautiful Baby. “I am done, Sammy,” he drawls, “look at her… she can’t get any more perfect.”

           Sam scowls, rag draped over Baby’s sidecar window. “Why don’t you help with this, then?”

           “No way,” Dean chuckles, “not how it works. Y’know the rules: whoever rode Baby last cleans Baby, and sidecar…”

           “Cleans sidecar…” Sam finishes, dunking the rag in a nearby bucket. Water sloshes and spills from the force of it. “Dumb rule though,” he mumbles, “especially when you purposefully drove through that mud pit.”

           He grins, “There was no avoiding it!”

           It’s not the truth, but neither feel the need to expose it.

           Dean spotted the mud while idling at a red light, Sam busy scrolling through his tablet. Reading about a possible case in Texas, where hikers were washing ashore with holes in their chests. Construction went on nearby, piling the mud as they excavated a water-logged field.

           He took a detour. Drove particularly close, waving at the construction workers while doing so. Sam yelped, frozen, mud sloshing against the sidecar. Some spilling into his lap and coating his sleeve. Then Dean sped past, hiding his laughter with Baby’s engine. Gaze pulled from the road every few seconds as Sam’s disgust proved too distracting.

           Served him right, though. Dean balanced the scales, retribution for when Sam glued a suggestive sign on his helmet when he sat in the sidecar. Only realizing when they stopped for lunch three states deep.

           “Why’d you do that,” he hissed, crumpling the notecard in his shaking fist; ‘I DO ANAL’ unintelligible from his strangling.

           “What?” Sam poorly hid his pride behind a milkshake, shoulders shaking, “It’s not wrong.”

           Dean spent longer than expected sifting through memories. Wading out of his mind, he sees Sam standing. “You done?”

           “No,” he says, picking up the bucket, “but I’m tired. Think I’m gonna take a nap.”

           Nodding, Dean focuses on Baby again. Drawing him from her was hard, especially after cleanings. “Dump that then, since you’re done.”

           “Okay…”

           Splash! Cold water races down his shirt, fabric sticking. He shudders a harsh breath, gasping from the shock of both the water and Sam’s action. His jaw hangs open, Dean slowly turning his head. Sam above with a terrible smile on his face. Innocent in name only. “You…”

           “Have fun with that, Dean!” He drops the bucket, scurrying for the motel room. Dean jumps, sliding somewhat from the suds. A tiny obstacle that impacts him greatly, Dean reaching Sam when the motel door closes. Slamming against it, Dean bangs and bangs.

           “Sammy! You open that up!”

           “Sorry, Dean, I can’t hear you! I’m sleeping!”

           Minutes seem like hours, Dean pounding the door until he gives up. Slinks back, defeated. Seeking comfort in a familiar shape.

           He stretches across Baby’s seat, careful of his still-dripping clothes. Dean caresses her front light, sight, “Sam’s a big ol’ meanie… leaving him high and wet out in the cold… what are we gonna do to him next?”

Earth-406

           It’s simple work, but it’s good work. It’s their work.

           “Help me with this,” Dean says, motioning Sam over. His brother adjusts his cap, tucking flyaway back under while he crosses the deck. Dean, bent, fingers slipping on the heavy net, breathes a sigh of relief when Sam latches on. “Three, okay? One… two… three.”

           They haul their catch over the edge, fish fighting the entire time. Their hands were whacked with tails and bit by snapping jaws, but they stayed firm. Pulling the rest of their haul up until all the fish flopped and died.

           “Whoa…” Sam wipes his brow, picking up one of the fish, “these are huge. You sure Cas didn’t find this place near a toxic waste dump?”

           Dean huffs, “Maybe they’re on whatever diet’s made you so big and strong?” Sam shoves at him, nearly forcing him off the boat as his foot slips. The fish underneath him taking revenge. He grabs Baby’s edge, catching himself. “Keep laughing, Sammy,” Dean drawls, glaring at his brother, “but how funny would it’ve been if I fell overboard and you had to do this all by yourself?”

           “You’d’ve just gotten wet, drama queen.” Sam clears fish away with his feet, pushing them into piles they can easily manage. “Now quit playing around. We’ve got to get these packed away before they spoil. Otherwise this whole trip’d been a waste.”

           He rolls his eyes but does as instructed.

           Packing fish into Baby’s large cooler went by fast, Dean’s autopilot guiding him. Dean and Sam could do this while sleeping, so comfortable with these tasks. Having been on the sea since they were little, helping their father work on his boat. They did their homework on Baby, played on Baby, and when John took her far beyond usual paths, slept in Baby.

           When he grew too old, he passed her onto those he knew would treat her right. Those who can uphold the family business. Men who have been fishing for all their lives.

           It’s simple work, but it’s good work. It’s their work.

Earth-0

           Sal finds his irritation fading when he sees his brother, Dean, stride towards a familiar car. “Dude,” he says, eyes widening in shock, “is that -?”

           “Yep,” Dean answers, stroking his hand lovingly across her hood, “I’m glad you didn’t forget Baby.”

           How could he? They both grew up in her, the blue 1965 Mustang the only home Sal ever knew. Staring at her, a million questions sprout like weeds in his mind. What’s she doing here? Why does she look this good? Is the army man he lost years ago still stuck in her ashtray? Of all those thoughts, Sal voices only one. “Dad lets you drive her?”

           “He gave her to me,” he tells Sal, opening the driver’s side door. “Now come on, we can talk more about her while we’re on the road. Longer we drag our feet, the more likely dad’s in danger…”

           It’s not great motivation for Sal, but he slides in without a fight. Brushing his thumbs on the leather seating, he pushes thoughts of his father to the back of his mind. Instead thinking about all the good memories; those he has of Baby, and coincidentally, of Dean.

Earth-1

           Sam winces, Dean advancing too close in his tirade. “Okay, okay… sheesh. It was only a question. I didn’t mean to threaten the weird relationship you have with your car.”

           Dean relaxes somewhat, shoulders still tense. He drains his beer in a single gulp, fingers flexing against the glass bottle. Given enough time, left alone, he can unwind once more. Although a thought strikes Sam that makes him risk his brother’s temper. Teasing too tempting.

           “Y’know,” he chuckles, sliding his beer across the table. Back and forth. “Maybe in one universe, Baby isn’t a car. Maybe Baby’s a person. And that Dean and that Baby are finally fucking –“

           “Sammy…” The slight edge of warning underlying his voice should give Sam a good idea as to the line he treads. “Don’t you…”

           “Or does Baby being human even matter to you?”

           “That’s it!”

           Sam jumps out of his seat, avoiding Dean’s flailing hand. Flees while his brother climbs over the table, spilling what little remained of his beer. He hears his pounding footsteps after him, audible even though his own cackling bounces off the walls.

           “Sam! Dean –“ They pass Cas and Jack, having hurried when hearing the commotion. Sam keeps moving, the distance between him and Dean lessening with each breath. How, Sam doesn’t know. Of the two, Dean’s only form of exercising aside from fighting monsters was running his mouth. But that’s definitely his hand brushing his shoulder. Dean urged on by pride, and the need to defend his Baby’s armor.

           He makes a sharp left, skidding. Dean slams into the wall. Sam looks behind, briefly, spotting his brother’s fierce glare and tempered smile. “I’m gonna get you, Sammy!” he shouts, barreling towards him, “And when I do…”

           They shoot out into the garage. Sam runs for safety, finding Baby. Dean follows.

           Circling her, they take turns gasping for breath. They feel young – younger than ever. Decades worth of trauma shaved off, wrinkles smoothening, and souls lighter like when they were children. Hell, Heaven… Lucifer, Michael, and Chuck… all distant, fading dreams too impossible for reality.

           Soon, Dean’s irritation fades. He forgets why he chased Sam into the garage. Sam notices the brighter mood of his brother but doesn’t needle him further.

           Why spoil such a rare moment? Another good memory for Sam, Dean, and Baby.

           Our Baby.

[inmyarmswrappedin]

DRUCK reactions - s4 ep1

Ages ago I said I wanted to write meta about Cris’ and Matteo’s seasons, so of course, when I finally sit down to write reactions to a Skam remake, it’s about Amira instead.

A few weeks back I was composing tumblr posts in bed before falling asleep (my number 1 hobby lol) when it struck me that the writing for Amira’s season was really… indefensibly bad. So let’s stroll down through memory lane and revisit Druck s4, or how to throw away your potential because you have to put out this season before summer is over!

CLIP 1: Dark clouds over Winterberg

Obviously I’m writing these with the benefit of hindsight, but I will try and incorporate what my initial reaction to a clip was whenever I can remember.

Sometime between the Abiball episode and episode 32, I argued (on twitter) that the Abiball special was the Abiball episode instead, the first episode of Amira’s season. It would thus introduce us to the conflicts and characters that would take place during Amira’s season. I thought that in addition to the obvious Amira/Mohammed, Carlos/Kiki/Essam would be important, Kiki’s family life would be important, Stefan would be important, and David/Matteo would probably not be important as they seemed to be doing just fine in their scenes.

I didn’t think Mia/Alex would be important because I didn’t actually watch their clip lol. The Winterberg stans on my twitter orbit thought the clip was cute and nothing to worry about. That should’ve been my first clue that the (twitter) stan habit of repeating the “we never lose” mantra doesn’t make for great viewing comprehension, because watching the clip, it’s so obvious that shit is gonna go down lol.

Mia moves from one of the flat share’s bathrooms to the other because they never really recreated Mia’s room in the s3 flat share.

I still haven’t watched Mia’s episode, so I don’t know how all this stuff is going to get resolved, but it seems like Mia doesn’t think they can handle a LDR, and Alex is picking up on those vibes hard. I guess I don’t really get why Mia is so pessimistic about it because at that age I kinda thought a few months break weren’t really an obstacle. (Not sure if it would help me to watch Mia’s season, because this seems like a wholly new conflict.)

Anyway, Alex acts sweet/reassuring (I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode), so Mia puts it out of her mind for now. But Idk, they haven’t really spoken about the elephant in the room.

CLIP 2: Don’t call them the chastest evak ever again

Tbh this clip comes across as a direct rebuttal to all the s3 commentary about David and Matteo seeming like they’re not into each other, or like they aren��t ~passionate~ like the other evaks.

It’s like, “these gremlins are horny on main, now shut up.”

But I like that they’re fully dressed, like yes, you can show physical intimacy without undressing your teen actors (shade fully intended).

I love Lukas von Horbatschewsky’s hair and I’m very jealous of Matteo in this sequence, lmao.

Luis Sepúlveda died of coronavirus this year, in Spain. You’re welcome for that bit of 2020 misery dripping onto this cute clip.

I do think David feels guilty that he may have caused Matteo to fail his Spanish exam because of David’s own issues, which I think is very on brand for David. Obviously it wasn’t his fault.

I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode, 2X.

And this has been said a million times by now, but David and Matteo are the one evak version where they’re the same age (Joana is in the same year as Cris, but is a year older, so she must’ve gotten held back at some point). So it’s funny, and possibly a reference to Isak and Even, to see David talking about what it’d be like if they had that age difference. Like, maybe David would be more like Even in behavior! And, going by Matteo’s reaction, he wouldn’t be into that.

This clip really feels like the ending to Matteo and David. They’ll go on a road trip, they’ll work on David’s movie, they’ll be around, but this clip is their conclusion. They both feel secure and content in their relationship, and ready for everything that’s to come.

Like I said on the post about Cris and Joana, I like that David and Matteo don’t have further issues. And while I have tons of issues with Druck s4, which I will be talking about forever in the following posts, I never had an issue with how they deployed Matteo or David. (Okay, self. Now say that again without crying about David’s season that should have been.)

Fucking David cutting their make out short only to then say such a highkey flirty, romantic thing to Matteo though. No wonder Matteo’s like, “STOP, I’M SUPPOSED TO STUDY.”

CLIP 3: A challenger appears!

I like the fanon that David is a healthy eater (or at least in comparison to Matteo), because all we ever see David eat of his own volition (i.e. not food that was made for him) is candy.

God, I love Kiki snatching David’s fruity gummies out of his hands. It makes me laugh every time, particularly how she demands to know if the candy is vegan.  

Hanna looks beautiful. ;_;

There’s a split second when Jonas is about to give Hanna that box where David looks alarmed in the background. In my mind he’s all, “Bro, no. Not a public proposal. Reel it back in, bro!”

And then, to the surprise of Jonas and all the viewers, we find out that not only are Jonas and Hanna not together, but Hanna is dating German Arthur. Again, in “fandom refuses to acknowledge storyline conflict until it’s staring right at them” news, Stefan had actually been introduced via an audio to Hanna the day before, but people were convinced it was Hanna’s dad. Whose actor they called just to record an audio. Clearly.

My belief at this point was that Stefan would be relevant to Amira’s storyline, but instead it was just a way to give Hanna her own episode. 🤡

Matteo’s transformation into Michi is complete by donning his grandpa hat.

He also makes to trip David for no real reason. Throwback to Unter Wasser.

Matteo saying Inshallalalah in a sing song voice is cute, but so annoying.

Matteo Florenzi: He’s a pain in the ass, but we love him.

CLIP 4: I guess Abdi and Axel picked up his grades at another point

I love the way Matteo grabs David’s head to pull him along. They’re so cute and I’m gonna enjoy every second.

Jonas also grabs Hanna along, because fans needed to be further confused as to what was happening with Hanna and Stefan and Jonas.

Thank you, Druck, for telling me Kiki’s and Amira’s grades, but as you can understand, that’s nowhere near enough to satisfy my curiosity and I will be needing to know everyone’s GPA because that is the kind of thing that’s important to me. What about it!!!

I think, going by how impressed Mia is, that Mia’s grade isn’t as good as Amira’s. Which I think is a neat detail, since the Nooras are kind of supposed to be the perfect girls. I like that Amira is even better than Mia at school.

I thought the concept of Carlos failing his final exam and maybe realizing school wasn’t his thing would’ve been an interesting storyline to explore, but I’m not mad that it didn’t happen. Hopefully Druck will touch on it with the next kids.

And we’re now treated to three reveals about Kiki. Kiki has a sister (now she has two), she likes the idea of moving out and living with Carlos, and her mom isn’t doing well.

The remakes trying to develop their Vildes past s4 make sense to me. By the end of Skam, Vilde clearly was the character who’d been the most robbed of a season, there were several potential storylines to do with her. Financial instability, alcoholic mom, eating disorders, plus it seemed obvious that any season taking place during the girls’ russetide should go to her. And that’s without getting into Vilde’s strong denial that she was a lesbian.

So the remakes are sitting on all these potential storylines, but as we now know, they can’t make their own Vilde season.

And from a European TV exec’s point of view, Vilde (who in every version is a white, skinny, ostensibly straight girl) is a very safe main after the gay and Muslim seasons.

Cue the LITTLE SISTER.  

I get why people are fed up with the Vildes’ prominence in the remakes that are in their latter stages, but at the same time we got 8 versions of Noora’s season, most of which are a limpdicked enemies to lovers story with a misguided sexual assault storyline tacked at the end. (And I say misguided because after a strong start, it’s mostly about what William will think, how William will react, I can’t tell William about this, etc.) So in my case, I’ve had quite enough Noora to last me a lifetime, but my Vilde thirst has only begun to be quenched.

Tangent over, Kiki lies that she’s not going to the lake because she’s going to check on Carlos. Bad form, Kiki.

CLIP 5: Graduation (Friends Forever).mp3

In clown news, I predicted there’d be a clip between the Kiki stuff and the actual dance (maybe a Sam clip), as it seemed to me there wasn’t much of a connection between Kiki looking sad on that ping pong table and PARTY TIME. Lol at me.

And speaking of clowning, while I thought the Abiball episode was part of s4, I also thought that was fine because it was just doing the multi POV episode in the beginning of the season rather than at the end, right? Wrong.

As much as it would’ve been great if Sam and Abdi had storylines pertaining to racism and islamophobia (whether Abdi is or isn’t a Muslim, people would probably assume he is), I also have to admit… This conversation is hilarious.

“I want to have intercourse with you.” [glass breaks in the background]

Abdi closing his speech with a wide smile gvvhvh.

The first hundred times I watched this scene, I thought Alex seemed a bit alarmed at the conversation taking place, but really… We’re back to stone-faced Alex lol.

Don’t kill me, but I feel a little bad for Abdi in this moment. He really put himself out there and Sam just leaves without giving him an answer, yikes. I actually got tired of Abdi’s sad sackiness during the season, but right now I feel for him. L

There’s this smile Jonas sometimes directs at dudes (like Alex here) that makes me think… Bi. He also directs it at Matteo in s3.

Ugh.

There’s a parallel universe where Stefan was the villain of Amira’s season, and it would’ve been a much more interesting season than the one we got.

Because Stefan is a bit of a Darth Jonas. He works for Greenpeace, but, at least in this scene, seems a bit full of himself, and like… twisting the knife in a way that feels like it has to be intentional. And it would’ve been so interesting if Druck had tackled the white dudes who seem like they’re not going to be assholes about Muslims, but then turn around and say some shocking garbage. I’m sure we’ve all met a guy like that before.

In my mind, Stefan would’ve driven a wedge between Hanna and Amira, which would’ve been way more compelling than what we got, but on the other hand, it probably would’ve made fandom people hate Hanna, and people outside of fandom hate Amira.

Anyway, tag teaming gays! I love how David and Matteo share a look and immediately take care of both Jonas and Stefan.

I also love it when David looks murderous. It looks good on him.

But I feel like this didn’t go anywhere? Like, Matteo always hated Stefan and continued hating Stefan until the finale. In this scene, David seems to dislike Stefan just as much, but it’s not a thread they bother following. It’s too bad because I think Matteo and David together sabotaging Stefan is a lot funnier than just Matteo doing it.

I love how soft spoken Amira is when telling Essam not to show up at her graduation party. I would’ve been a lot less polite lmao.

You know, I actually thought Kiki was genuine here when she said she wasn’t a fan of competitions. Obviously that’s not the Kiki we’ve known until this point, but like, I thought it was meant to show character development on her part, But we’ll talk about THAT more in the following episodes.

Matteo fully blames their win on David being so hot, mysterious and new, and it’s hilarious because that’s also what initially drew him to David. Like, “fuck you for being so hot!”

I thought it was such a nice detail that they brought back the girl from the refugee classes in s1. We’re saying goodbye to all these school people who are going on their own post high school journeys without us!

In my mind, Abdi and Alex are talking about something completely serious, like, I don’t know, Abdi’s dad wanting him to study business and Alex advising Abdi on the best business schools in Berlin or something.

I feel like Hanna is the one girl in the squad who really doesn’t feel ready for post high school life and I HATE the writers so much for how they wrapped her character up, but we’ll save that for later.

I could watch Matteo passing the tiara (=the main) to Amira forever. The way he tips his hat and looks like even he’s a little surprised that he (a character like him!) was ever the lead on a teen show, David’s voice asking Matteo if he’s coming, Matteo leaving with David to live happily ever after, the initial notes of Just Got Paid as Amira looks at nighttime Berlin. This meme is overdone by now, but THE POETIC CINEMA.

Jonas glaring at romantic rivals at end of year dances is iconic at this point.

Amira being tagteamed by an annoying little brother AND a well-meaning, embarrasing older brother. Choose your own nightmare.

I really love the set up for the Essam/Kiki/Carlos conflict. The emotional potential is SO good because on one hand you have Kiki, who wants to have a good time for once instead of parenting her own parent, then Carlos whose self-esteem is on the floor after having failed his final exam, and Essam, whose own sense of self-worth hinges upon whether white German girls find him attractive. Like, obviously Essam is never going to come between Kiki and Carlos who have been through some shit together, but with Carlos out of commission and Essam eager to please, you can see how the situation could so easily turn into a mess.

Amira and Mohammed have the most sexual tension out of any Yousana pair, period. They literally just said hi to each other and I already feel like I’m intruding gvhvhv.      

Social media

David saying of Matteo: “Er bekommt Auslauf.” (Something like, “he gets walkies” because he’s been good with revising) is the cutest shit ever.

Remember when Stefan sent Jonas a whole ass message and signed it “with sunny greetings”? Stefan was much more fun when we were supposed to find him unbearable.

Kiki creating a new Whatsapp group for every single thing is so true to life.

I’d forgotten that Amira also hated Stefan almost right away. The season that could’ve been, I tell you.

All the Abi Chaker Clan content reminds me of how I thought Jonas looked like, well, such a child, compared to Stefan, and I thought that was intentional. Like, here is Stefan with a Greenpeace job whereas Jonas doesn’t know what to do with his life, and he’s like, spray-painting abi chaker clan onto walls and posting pics to the abi chaker clan account. It’s not that I thought Jonas should’ve acted like a whole ass adult, of course he’s having fun with his high school friends, but I thought Jonas might feel inadequate in comparison to where Stefan is at this point of his life.

I can’t remember who revealed it, but Sara was supposed to end up with Toilet Sam and that was supposed to come out during the s3 finale (on that week, Sara posted a story with a guy whose face was obscured iirc). Since that was part of the clip where Hanna and Jonas also got back together, which they cut to make way for Hanna/Jonas/Stefan drama, Sara takes some other dude to the Abiball. And I think we’re supposed to think that’s the same dude she went on that date with.