#but I absolutely understand the frustration

[hypnocurious1]

This cycle will never end for me. In fact, I've been programmed to try to resist only to end with epic failure. This type of conditioning is called resistance training. With every attempt to resist, no matter how subtle, somehow enhances the overall effects of my conditioning. When my wife first explained this to me, I didn't believe her. Until I looked it up for myself.

My wife is a true sadist. She derives so much pleasure and empowerment from watching me make my useless attempts to resist. Even though I fully understand that I will always fail and make things worse I continue to struggle. She absolutely adores to watch me struggle right to the point of repeated frustrating failure.

Accept it, sissy.

[satellite-evans]

Hi! Could I please request a one shot where Harry is sick maybe during tour and his gf has to take care of him? Thank you! I love your writing!

a/n: thank you so much for liking my work, it truly means a lot! it's a little short but I still hope you'll like it <3

sick on tour

The hotel room is quiet except for the noise of the air conditioning and the occasional sniffle from the lump of blankets curled up in the middle of the king-sized bed. The curtains are drawn, shielding the bright city lights outside from intruding on the peaceful, dimly lit space. Harry has always liked his hotel rooms cozy—candles on the nightstand, his favorite hoodie draped over the chair, and the softest pillows he could find. But tonight, none of it seems to bring him comfort.

You stand at the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, watching Harry sulk into his pillow. His curls are a mess, sticking to his slightly damp forehead, his nose a little pink from the fever, and yet—despite looking absolutely miserable—he’s still trying to convince you he’s fine.

“I can do the show,” he rasps, voice hoarse and scratchy. He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, but the movement sends him into a fit of coughing. You sigh and press a hand to his chest, gently urging him back down.

“Baby, no. You can barely sit up.”

He frowns, brows knitting together like a petulant child. “S’just a little cold.”

“You have a fever, a sore throat, and you sound like you swallowed sandpaper,” you point out, smoothing your fingers over his clammy forehead. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Harry grumbles something incoherent and burrows further into the pillows. You can tell he hates this—hates being taken care of, hates being seen as anything less than strong. But the thing is, to you, he’s always strong. Even now, curled up in a nest of tissues and blankets, he’s still the man you love more than anything.

Tour has been brutal on him lately. Night after night of performing, giving his all to the crowds that adore him, leaving every ounce of himself on that stage. He never complains—not about the exhaustion, not about the jet lag, not about the toll it takes on his body. But you see it in the way his shoulders slump when he thinks no one is looking, the way his voice is a little more raw each morning, the way he clings to you just a little tighter when he finally collapses into bed at the end of the night.

“I can’t cancel, though,” he whispers after a long moment, his voice laced with guilt. “They’ve probably spent so much money—flights, hotels, tickets, clothes and waited months just to see me. I can’t let them down, I just can't.”

You soften, understanding where his frustration is coming from. Harry has always carried the weight of his fans' happiness on his shoulders, always put them first. It’s one of the many reasons you love him—but right now, he needs to put himself first.

You take his hand in yours, rubbing slow, comforting circles over his knuckles. “Harry, sweetheart, I already spoke to Jeff. He and the team handled everything. They put out a statement, rescheduled the show, and made sure the fans know how much you care about them Not that they need a statement anyway. They know how much you love them.”

His brows furrow. “You—”

“I took care of it,” you interrupt gently. “So you don’t have to worry, okay? The fans love you, but they love you healthy and not sticky. You can’t give them the show they deserve if you push yourself too hard now. That is not what they deserve.”

Harry lets out a slow breath, his tense shoulders easing just a fraction. He still looks guilty, but there’s also relief in his tired eyes. “You really talked to Jeff?”

You nod. “Of course. Your health comes first, baby. Now please let me take care of you."

You slip out of the room quietly and return with a damp cloth, gently dabbing it against his forehead. The coolness makes him sigh, his tense shoulders relaxing under your touch. Then, you hold up a spoonful of honey-laced tea to his lips. He scrunches his nose but accepts it, swallowing with a soft grimace.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, voice slightly clearer now.

You smile and brush your fingers over his cheek. “Of course, my love.”

After making sure he’s warm enough, you reach for the small bowl of soup on the nightstand that you kindly asked form the hotel staff. “Just a little, H. You need something in your stomach other than medicine.”

"The fans would've probably ask for me to sing medicine tonight but they can't because I need it. The irony." He said, trying to lighten the room up with a joke but cough wave that crushed him once again.

"Drink Harry." You said sternly.

He looks at you like he wants to argue, but he knows better. You lift the spoon to his lips, and after a moment’s hesitation, he leans forward and takes a bite. A small, content sigh escapes him, and you can’t help but grin.

“You’re good at this,” he mutters, sleep beginning to weigh heavy on him.

“I'm just good at loving you lovie,” you reply simply, brushing back his curls as he lets his eyes drift shut.

His fingers reach for yours under the blanket, giving them a weak squeeze. “Love you more.”

You sit beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his fever-warmed temple. “Just rest, my love. I’ve got you.”

And with the way he sighs, relaxing into your touch, you know he believes you.

Tomorrow, he’ll probably try to argue again. Try to tell you he feels fine, that he’s ready to get back out there, to put on another show. But for tonight, he’s yours to take care of. And you wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

[livmightlive]

wind and hyrule warriors thoughts

Going absolutely bonkers thinking about is the Hyrule Warriors headcanon I see used sometimes where the timeline is slightly disjointed. What I mean by that is the headcanon where Wind goes to Hyrule Warriors after the LU quest but for Warriors and Time it was before their LU quest making them all meet a somehow older version of their friend first. 

Like when Wind first meets Time and Warriors it’s them both as men. But when Time and Warriors first meet Wind it’s when he’s a man (or at least more grown than a child). 

Anyways. As for my speculation and headcanons…

I really like the idea that Wind is about the same age as Wars when he gets pulled into the war of eras. When he meets Wars and Time he’s very surprised and kind of confused because Wars and Time had never mentioned to him that they met him during the events of LU. I think Wind would generally kind of be like “wtf.” “Why would they do that?” Etc. I imagine it would be kind of hard not to be hurt over that but at the same time it’s not like he can take out his frustrations on Wars and Time, or Link and Mask in this case because they don’t even know him. So Wind keeps it quiet that he knows them. 

Wind gets over his anger (hurt) at them pretty quickly bc well, Time is an actual child so it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him and Wars is obviously stressed. This place is a nightmare and a lot of that nightmare has been gifted personally to Wars. Wind remembers how protective Time and Wars had been to him during the events of LU. It had annoyed him at the time, but they had been great brothers, friends, and mentors to him. He decides to return the favor. 

It’s difficult getting close to Wars. He’s never not busy and he’s so serious. Everything with this guy is serious. But eventually Wind breaks down his walls and is surprised when Wars starts asking Wind for advice. This is Wars’ first quest. This is Wind’s third. Wars has never managed the triforce before this, he’s never held the master sword, and he’s definitely never been in charge of this many people. When Wind came, Wars was a bit intimidated by him because Wind is obviously the better hero. He’s much more experienced than Wars and he’s even rebuilding Hyrule back in his era. Even Mask, the little hero, is more experienced than he is. I think Wars would have a crazy imposter syndrome. 

Wind manages to give Wars good advice while recognizing his inferiority complex. Wind helps Wars recognize that nobody is quite as suited to lead in this era than Wars is. They soon do almost everything together. It seems like Wind almost knows Wars better than himself. He always seems to know what to say. Wars sometimes feels like Wind already knows how this is all gonna turn out. Soon they become not just brothers or comrades, but best friends. Wind also makes sure that Wars has fun. Wind is great at keeping morale up. 

Wind also befriends Mask at record time. The kid is prickly at best and a biter at worst. Somehow Wind breaks down all his defenses. He’s really good at keeping up with the kid and keeping him safe while not belittling him. Wind remembers how hard Time and Wars fought to protect Wind, but it came at the price of underestimating him. He understands where they came from a lot better after seeing baby Time’s soft cheeks and short stature, but he knows better than to doubt that Time can’t hold his own in battle. Wind claims that he’s good with Mask because he’s a big brother but Wars would sooner guess witchcraft. 

Wind also has a good relationship with a lot of the other people pulled from other eras. Obviously he and Tetra are close because she followed him through his portal, but there are others. Wind and Ravio get along really well. Wind claims they’ve met way back when but Wars doesn’t know how that would work as they’re from different eras. He seems to already know Marin and Midna, but they all claim they haven’t met before. They occasionally have private conversations that Wars can’t get any details about from Wind

Very guiltily, Wind is super glad that Ravio is there because Ravio remembers the events of LU so they can talk about things. At the same time, however, he’s terrified that Ravio and his brothers' friends and lovers are there. He feels a deep responsibility to keep them all safe. He becomes deeply protective of everyone around him. 

Most of the time I think Wind would be kind of a breath of fresh air. He’s funny, laid back, and has a good attitude. You can rely on him to not overreact and get his work done. The only time Wind does seem to crack or panic is when one of his friends gets hurt. Maybe it’s Ravio who almost gets fatally wounded. Wind loses it, freaking out. He’s screaming about how Ravio has to go home, which makes sense. Everyone is thinking that. But then Wind starts crying about how ‘he’ will never forgive me if I can’t get him home. 

Sometimes when Wind is really stressed or drunk his lips get looser. Wars is really confused one night they go out drinking when Wind casually asks “Would you tell me if I died?” Wind realizes what he said, apologizes and tells Wars to forget about it. Of course Wars doesn’t. Sometimes Wind also calls Wars well “Wars or Warriors” which is confusing. He doesn’t know where that comes from.

Wind is scared that this isn’t real, that it’s a parallel universe of some sort and these aren’t the people he knows. He’s even more scared that it is real and that he’s gonna fuck up everything. If Time dies here will he be there when the events of LU occurs? If he dies will they be as successful without Time to lead them? Very similar with Warriors. Does Legend know where Ravio is or is he sick with worry back home? Does Legend know that Marin is here??? Alive?? He wonders if Time and Wars tell Legend that she’s okay. Or is that another thing they keep to themselves? And Midna is here and she misses Twilight a lot. She asks Wind if Twilight is okay. He tells her that she is and she’s happy.

Eventually the war ends and everyone goes home. 

When Wars and Time meet baby Wind they wonder if this is how he felt when he met them. I’ve seen this in a handful of fanfics and it’s so good everytime. CLASSIC BANGER. 

I imagine though, that it’s like a hypothetical I often think of for myself. What if I was able to meet the childhood version of my best friends? What advice would I give them? What would I do for them? Wars and Time get to do this for real. Their big brother/best friend doesn’t remember them. And he’s a kid. So they protect him, probably too much. They teach him the same things that they taught him. 

They wonder if everything is a circle. Did they teach Wind or did he teach them? It’s a paradox 😭

Huurrggggg… many thoughts….. please tell me yours

[sillygoofyqueer]

JiuYuan route is delicious. Accommodations? For Shen Jiu's PTSD? YES PLEASE.

(Also Yes, being comforted by non verbal communication? L)

Although I don't actually see SJ coming across LeviathYuan and deciding to take him with him/interacting. Man is too paranoid and aware of his weaknesses.

The only way is to force him via goading.

I need you to know that when I first went to answer this, I had to go back and check what I wrote yesterday because I swear I was in a haze that consisted almost entirely of "j-jiu-thuehtawhyjiuyuanjaif-jgieh-gjiyjiy-jyuah--ahahuhanahiyijuayangon--" and I don't even know what was going on in my little brain. (I say, actively rechecking it as I write this)

Okay so now that Shen Jiu is feeling more frustrated by Leviathyuan's kindness, I think that he would absolutely go out of his way to try and trip him up. Like, try and prove to himself that Leviathyuan is just acting and that he will eventually trip himself up if Shen Jiu pushes just enough! With this plan in mind, he begins to be...not. Friendly, but a little kinder. Speaking more comfortably, referring to him as "Yuan-di" (or "Yuan-ge" if you want) and then trying to inconspicuously check how Leviathyuan reacts to this.

The issue is that there's literally no change in how Leviathyuan acts because the human's body language isn't changing or anything, and even if it had, he's hardwired into politeness. The land demons may be used to taking and snatching and fighting for what they want, but aquatic demons are much more chill and all you gotta do is be polite down there, because they understand that there's a food chain and they're all very aware of how their ecosystem works. "Oh you hungry? Sure you can eat me, thanks for asking!!"

All this to say that as Leviathyuan starts learning human language, he's like the politest person ever. "You have food specifically for me that you laid out for me and nobody else can eat?...May I please have some?" Shen Jiu is like offering Leviathyuan a hand up after a lesson or something (to catch him off guard and see if he takes more than he's allowed) and the demon just stares at his hand before being like "can I touch your hand so you can help me up?" (In broken Chinese of course) And Shen Jiu is like "???? A respectful man thing?????"

In the background, there's Yue Qingyuan who is hearing Shen Jiu acting more familiar with Leviathyuan and is like "I'm glad Xiao-Jiu is making friends ☺️" as if he isn't about to explode. He is genuinely pleased that someone else is being friendly and kind to Shen Jiu, but like....DAMN IT, at the same time. (Shang Qinghua is watching this all go down and is watching in horror as Yue Qingyuan crushes his third teacup of the day.)

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Ooo Yay! I can't wait to see what you thought about this UNHINGED fic 😂

On one hand, perfect makeout music. On the other hand, Dean is SOOOO freakin' jealous, but it's so frustrating that pushing down his own feelings for her has resulted in him being such a dick to her, before and during this moment. 😫😫

Oh yes, definitely setting the mood for the reader and Ben in the back seat lol. We all know that Dean has probably pulled the same thing in the past 😆 Dean is VERY jealous and it's only pushing the reader away from him more, but he can't stop it. He's stuck in a vicious cycle that is turning into one of Dante's circles of hell when Ben showed up LOL.

*snorts* I love both of these analogies. 🤣

Thank you! I was like... what else has a roadtrip in it? 😂

Deaaaaaan you complete and utter idiot!! What's even worse is that she did feel that spark with him when they first met, until he opened his big dumb mouth lmao.

He really has pushed down his feelings, a few people have pointed out to me that Dean is acting like the playground bully who likes a girl but can't express it in a healthy way and that is one million percent what's happening here lol. The reader did like him when they first met, but again he just didn't express his feelings in a healthy way and now he has to sit and watch Ben and the reader make out in the back seat of his car 😂

Lol sounds like the Winchester Way to me. 🫠

Absolutely 👏🏻 The reader is basically the male version of Dean tbh. Except she shoved down her feelings and then went to sleep with someone who looked exactly like Dean 🤣 Because that was also healthy right? lol

My heart was so torn throughout this entire fic, you have no idea!! The way she manages to pacify him loll. So sweet and sexy in a way, but also, you get the sense that she thinks Ben might just see her as a pretty face, even if he does care about her deep down? It makes you wonder where her heart is truly going to lie at the end of all this angsty love-triangle goodness.

Mine was too! I literally kept going back and forth from Ben to Dean, trying to figure out who she should be with. Because she has incredible chemistry with Ben and she understands him in a way that I think he's not used to. And on the other hand Dean understands her because she's a hunter, he's just being a stubborn idiot 🤣

AND you're right! The reader thinks that Ben only sees her as a pretty face at the moment. She doesn't understand that he has started to develop feelings for her. But I think that the reader also believes that Ben has the possibility to become more than just someone she sleeps with. That he could love her if she let him and if she loved him.

Oh my God this part was completely unhinged and it was hilarious! But the way Ben decides to "get rid of her" is unfortunately on-brand, not caring enough about the collateral damage, the risk of the reader getting hurt. 💔 Even though he does check on her afterwards, the way Dean protected her has my heart swinging back to him and melting in a whole different way!! 😫 Gah! This is so conflicting! loll don't do this to me, friend. 😂😂 I need to dive right into Part 3 so I get to see what happens between her, Ben, and Dean, and just who will confess their feelings first...

Yes see, I went to see Wicked with my friends the weekend before I wrote this and you have no idea how much I love the OC Iris that I made for this fic. I was also thinking "how many references to How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days can I put in one fic?" lol. I was sad that I had to kill her- but it had to be done. There needed to be a dramatic moment where Dean chose to save the reader and give the reader a little bit of doubt about Ben and also show the way he is (unfortunately). But Ben coming to check on the reader literally put me on the fence all over again because he was being soft for her 😭

I'm so sorry to do that to you my friend!! But admit it, you love the angst lmao 💞😉

Thank you so much for all your comments my lovely friend! I always love to hear what you think! And I can't wait to read what you think of Part 3! 💗

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

Taglist:

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@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

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[miniwheat77]

Stuck. (Gym Teacher!Soap x Reader.)

!NSFW, Smut, READER IS 18, NO MINORS, proceed with caution, age gap, unprotected p in v sex, soap and reader almost get caught, teacher x student relationship!

not edited.

You stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. Frustrated.

You hated school, absolutely despised it.

You’d just gotten to school and already one of the girls who was mean to you slammed into you, her coffee ruining your shirt.

It was a light colored shirt and now it was ruined. You tried your best to wash it and decided to just suffer until Gym. You’d just change into your Gym clothes when you got there. Maybe you could talk to your Gym teacher, Mr. MacTavish about sitting this one out today. He would understand.

You got along with him really well. He understands better than most anyways.

You covered your shirt up the best you could until you made your way to the Gym, just before Lunch is when your gym class was.

You were able to sit out for the day, thankfully since you'd have to wear your gym shirt and didn't want to be all sweaty for the rest of the day. After your class was over, you hurried into the girls locker room, usually there were no gym classes taught after lunch anyways. You tugged your shirt off and slipped your pants down your legs. Opening up your locker. Your face contorts into confusion.

Your clothes are gone.

“Looking for these?” You spin around, seeing the three girls that had made your life a living hell since you started at this dreadful school. You sigh. “Please give them back.” You sigh. “Hmm.. how about you come get them?” She smirks. You clench your eyes shut. Reopening them after a second. Reaching for your coffee stained shirt you had just taken off. Another girl snatches it away from you. Just as you’re about to step forward, she shoves you back. “No! No wait!” You cry out.

She forces you back, slamming the locker door shut. You push on it but it’s latched. You can hear them laughing. “Let me out!” You cry. “Leave her there, come on.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. It’s cold.

You bang on the locker for a while, but nobody hears you.

You don’t know how long you’re going to be stuck inside.

—

It’s hours later, you’re freezing and shivering but you’re trying to relax.

You finally hear the door open, Mr. MacTavish happens to be coming inside to clean everything up for the day. There’s supposed to be no girls inside.

You can hear him whistling as he walks inside. Dread sets into your gut. You didn’t want it to be him that found you but you had no choice. You bang on the locker, startling him as he nears. “Please let me out! Please help!” You cry out. “Y/N?” He hears your voice right away. “What the hell?” He makes his way to your locker, lifting the tab and opening it up. You cover yourself up. He turns his head, seeing you’re almost nude. “What the hell is going on?”

“They locked me in here just after Gym.” You cover yourself up. He turns back to you. “Christ, the same three?” He asks. You nod your head. He shakes his head. This isn’t the first time this has happened. You’d actually spent a lot of time in Mr. MacTavish’s office because of injuries inflicted from the three. “Just.. stay here. I’ll find you something.”

Just as he turns to walk away. He can hear footsteps coming his way. “Shit. This is about to look really bad.” He hesitates, hoping they’ll pass. When the footsteps get closer, he panics.

He grasps your arm, moving you to the other side and unintentionally slamming you up against lockers, clamping a hand over your mouth before you can yelp out. “Stay quiet.” He breathes. He sees your wide eyes staring back at him.

“You’re half nude and I’m in here alone with you.” He mumbles. You nod your head, eyes still wide. How close he is to you is intimidating.

“Mr. MacTavish? Are you in here?” You can hear that it’s another teacher. “Yeah- I’m just cleaning up the locker room!” He calls. “Oh okay. I just had a real quick question.” He looks to you again, raising his finger up to his lips to hush you. Slowly releasing his hand from your mouth. Your lips part in surprise.

Mr. MacTavish steps out from behind the locker. Placing his hand on the lockers to make it seem like there’s nothing out of the ordinary. “What was your question.”

“Did Y/N show up to your Gym class? I was talking to another couple teachers and they said she was here for a few classes and gone for the rest and nobody knows where she went.”

“Ah, it was probably those girls who pick on her. They probably did something to make her go home.”

You clench your eyes shut. You didn’t want him telling anyone about them. “What?” He says confused. Mr. MacTavish gives him their names and tells him about a few things they had done to you in the past.

After a few minutes, he finally leaves.

“Oh thank god.” He mumbles. He quickly locks the door. You stay where you are, back pressed against the cold row of lockers behind you. You stay quiet, hearing his footsteps coming your way. “Here.” He holds out a baggy t-shirt. It’s the only thing he’s got. “Thanks.” You mumble. You slide it over your head. It goes down passed your hips thankfully.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. He’s noticing your change in demeanor. “Why did you tell him all of that? I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Y/N, they left you in a locker for hours. You’re lucky I came in here because it’s Friday. If you had got locked in there over the weekend, you could’ve died.”

“I don’t care. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

He sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Y/N. Why do you let them pick on you? I’ve seen you participating in some of the activities I have in my class. I know you hold back.”

“Jesus Christ Mr. MacTavish.” You groan. “The Principal is related to Taylor!”

“So what?” He crosses his arms. “So they’re not going to take my side. They’re going to side with her.”

He shakes his head. “Not while I’m around. Not after locking you in here. Jesus Christ.” He mumbles. He stands in front of you, moving closer. “Y/N. You have to stand up for yourself or nothing is ever going to change.” He breathes. His close proximity is starting to overwhelm you. “I-“

He can see you getting overwhelmed, he can tell you feel cornered. He backs off. “Come on, follow me.” He shakes his head. You skeptically look at him, following after him. Tugging the shirt down as you walk behind him. Once he’s got you into his office, he digs through an old bin of gym shorts he had and passes a pair to you. You quickly slide them on. “Now come on. We’re going to the office.” He mumbles. “For what?”

“Just come on.” He mumbles.

You sigh. Following after him.

Those bitches even took your shoes.

You want to curl up and die.

When he opens up the office door for you, you walk in first and immediately see Taylor waiting for the principal who is her father to take her home for the day. She has a smirk on her face when she sees you. “Mr. MacTavish, everything okay?” The receptionist smiles. “No.” He mumbles, he asks her to get a hold of the principal.

He eventually emerges out of his office. “John, something going on?”

“Yeah, Taylor and a couple of her friends locked Y/N in one of the gym lockers for about���” he looks down at his watch. “4 hours. Took her clothes as well.”

He turns to look at Taylor. “Is this true?”

“What? No. He’s lying.”

“Y/N, is that what happened?”

You nod your head. “Why do you think she doesn’t have any shoes on? Her attendance is suffering from Taylor’s bullying. That’s almost half a day missed because of this, and only god knows what could’ve happened to Y/N if I hadn’t heard her calling for help.”

He turns to look at her, and she starts in with the crocodile tears.

“Well. I’m sure this was just a misunderstanding. We’ll get it taken care of.”

—

Mr. MacTavish doesn’t understand why you’re gone for another week, until he finds out you were placed on suspension.

You were right, there’s nothing you can do.

When you come back, they’ve ramped up the harassment.

You’ve had enough, and Mr. MacTavish was right. You do hold back.

You’re sitting on the bench, they never did give you your gym clothes back. You have to wait for new ones, so you’re sitting out of the activities until further notice. Mr. MacTavish notices the three girls are talking to you, probably being rude.

He sighs, trying to finish up his grading when he hears a “oh shit!” From one of his students. Turning to see that you’re no longer on the bench, and instead, straddling Taylor. You’ve got a hand wrapped in her hair as you wail on her. The other two try to intervene but you’re not budging. “Steamin’ Jesus.” He groans, jogging over to the two of you. He tries to pull you off of her but even he struggles.

When he’s finally got you off of her, you’re seething. Breathing heavily and saying nothing. “My office! Go!” He pushes you. You glare at him, turning your back and walking toward his office, shaking the pain off of your hand. He helps Taylor up, she’s holding her bleeding nose.

He knows it’s bad but he wants to laugh, this is exactly what she deserves. “Go to the nurse, the three of you.” He shakes his head.

He gives every one else instructions to go back to the basketball game they were playing. Making his way to his office.

You’re sitting in the chair in front of his desk and he laughs the moment the door is closed. “What happened?”

“She was taunting me.” You shrug. He shakes his head. “I’m afraid you’re really in for it now, kid.” He laughs.

After a few more minutes, the principal barges in. “This behavior is unacceptable.” He seethes.

“Y/N, go wait outside on the bench for a minute.” He ushers you out, closing the door behind you.

“She’s on immediate suspension- this is ridiculous.”

“No.” He mumbles.

“What?”

Mr. MacTavish crosses his arms.

“The janitor found Y/N’s clothes in the trash can behind the school a few days ago. He thought it was odd so he brought them to me. Can only assume you placed them in there, right?” He mumbles. “Or maybe this will tell us?” He holds up the flash drive from the janitor, the footage of him throwing them in there to cover up for Taylor.

“If you don’t tell Taylor and her little friends to leave Y/N alone, I’m going to go to the board about this. And you’ll lose your job, and Taylor will get expelled. You wouldn’t want that right?”

He shuts up really fast. “If Y/N starts in on one of the three again, I won’t pull her off next time. Raise your kids to be better, not assholes.” He wants to come out of his chair and put hands on him. “Fine. Alright. Whatever you want.”

“I mean it, not one more time. And I want you to pay the fees it’s going to take to replace Y/N’s shoes and gym clothes.” He’s got his arms crossed. “Alright. Fine. She still has to be held accountable for violence.”

“We’ll talk with her.” He shakes his head. “Y/N. Come back in.” He waves you inside.

You sit down and they’re both standing as they look at you. “Violence is unacceptable Y/N.” Mr. MacTavish looks at him as he says it. You bring your eyes up from the floor, looking at him. “Yes sir.” You mumble. Johnny can see that you want to roll your eyes. You’re feigning regret. “Detention. For the rest of the week.” He sighs. “Yes sir.” You repeat it, Johnny wants to roll his eyes. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” He sighs. He walks out and you huff, sitting down.

“Want some ice?” He asks, seeing your knuckles that are split and swollen. “No. The sting reminds me of what it felt like to hit her in her stupid face.” You sigh. He can’t help but laugh. “You can hang out in here but I’ve got to get back to my class.” You nod.

He goes out to make sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to. By the time he comes back, you’re gone. At some point, the Principal had placed enough money on his desk for new Gym clothes for you. Johnny can’t believe the lengths he’d go, to protect his daughter, especially when she’s the one in the wrong.

For the remainder of the week, he spots you in passing. Seeing you resting your head on your hand in Detention. Sending you smiles in the hallway. If Johnny had to pick a favorite student, it’d probably be you. Just because you dealt with so much bullshit and hardly showed it.

The bullying seemed to die down. They weren’t constantly harassing you and you weren’t in his office bugging him when they did like you usually did. It was a good thing of course, but he couldn’t deny that he missed having you around. You participated as normal in his gym class and your attendance had really picked up since they quit bugging you. It was odd for a change.

It made you realize how much you liked being around your gym teacher.

Not being around him as much made you want to be around. It made you think about all the time you had spent around him and than you started dreaming.

More specifically about when he’d found you in that locker in the locker room, and pinned you to them. Holding his hand over your mouth. The dreams you’d had about him when you weren’t around him as much were straight up dirty. You don’t know why these were coming out of the left field like this, you hadn’t ever felt this way about him before. You’re not sure what had changed anyways.

You kept your cool around him even when you didn’t want to. You had no choice. He was a teacher and you were a student. You knew he would never want anything like that with you. That didn't stop your mind from wandering.

It was your last day of detention, you were bored. Resting your head on your hand and staring at the clock as the seconds ticked by agonizingly slow.

You don't turn your head when the door opens, it usually wasn't anything too important.

"Hi. Can I borrow Y/N for a minute?" He asks. His voice is what makes you perk up. "I have a couple of questions for her and she doesn't look too busy."

The other teacher nods her head and you gather your things, following him out of the room. Once the door is closed and you're walking alongside him to the gym, you speak up. "Something wrong?" You ask. "No just wanted to save you from that hell." He laughs. You smile. "Thanks. Looks that bad huh?" You laugh. "Well your grades have been good since those girls have left you alone so I imagine you have nothing to work on. Just staring at that damn clock," He smiles. "Yeah. It's like the damn thing moves in slow motion."

He laughs.

When you get to the gym, you follow him into his office.

"I was meaning to ask. What do you plan on doing after you graduate?" He asks. "I'm not sure. Figured I'd just go take some basic classes at the community college until I figured it out." You shrug. "You don't have any dreams at all? Nothing?"

You shake your head. "To be honest? People don't take well to me. I'm not sure why." You laugh.

"It's cause you're quiet. Not assertive."

You nod your head. "When are you supposed to graduate?" He asks. "Next couple of months? Why?" You ask. "Just wondering. I couldn't remember what grade you were. So that means you're Eighteen?" He asks. "Yep. Turned eighteen a few weeks ago." He nods his head.

He doesn't say anything for a minute which you find odd.

"You mind helping me clean up the girls locker room? I still have to do the boys."

"Sure."

You had done it a time or two anyways, there wasn't much to it. Changing out the trash liners, sweeping the floor. Picking up trash.

You finish sweeping when you hear the door.

You spin around but don't see anyone. Odd.

You start to worry. Hoping it's not Taylor finally seeking out her revenge.

You move back into the showers, checking to see if there were anything in there. Sometimes people left their trash inside. You turn back around but someone pushes you back into the tile wall. A gasp barely slides past your lips when he clamps a hand over your mouth. "Shhh. It's alright."

Your eyes are wide as you look at him.

"Can you stay quiet?" You nod your head slightly, looking down at his hand.

"W-what are you doing?"

He swallows hard. Looking down at you. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide as he looks down at you. "You can stop me."

He tilts his head just slightly. Leaning into you ever so slowly. He wanted to make sure that you actually want this.

When his lips brush over yours, you realize exactly what this is.

When he presses his lips to yours, you're surprised.

You almost forget to kiss back.

Your heart races in your chest as he pushes his hand along your side, onto your hip and into the curve of your back to pull you into him. Your brain is fuzzy, not processing what the hell is actually happening.

When he pulls away, he can see it in your eyes. You want this just as bad as he does. "What if someone comes in?" You swallow hard.

He thinks for a second. You're right. He can't do this here.

"You're right. Your parents come home before or after you do?" He asks. "After, they work until six and after." He nods his head. "Head home, I'll finish up here and I'll be by to get you. If you want."

Your lips part in surprise. You nod your head. "Yeah- yeah of course. Um.." You pause, giving him your address.

He saves it into his phone, just as he steps away from you, the detention bell rings.

You do as he says, leaving and going home for the day.

You're in a daze as you walk. Unsure of how the hell someone like him could want to be with someone like you. He'd actually tricked you into the locker room so that he could kiss you.

He even made sure you were eighteen first!

You step inside and rush to be better prepared. Hopping into the shower really quick, changing into better clothes.

You're waiting when you finally see him pull into your driveway. You're nervous. You've had a crush on him sure, but hadn't put too much thought into this if it had actually happened. Could you really go through with this?

You send your mom a text and let her know that you'd be staying with a friend. Unsure if it would be overnight or not. You make sure to lock the door behind you, making your way to his truck. You open the passenger side and climb in. "Hey." He smiles.

You're so doing this.

"Hi."

Your nerves are shot as he drives to his house.

In just a couple of hours you'd gone from just a normal gym student to him bringing you home.

When he pulls into his driveway, the sun is starting to set.

You follow him up to his front door, following him inside. You look around.

"You alright?" He asks.

"Yeah, I was just wondering. You bring all of your female students home with you?" You smile. He rolls his eyes. "Why, jealous?"

You smile.

"No, no I don't. I don't want to risk my entire career for just anyone, you know."

"Yeah well, you bailed me out of detention and let me blow off a bunch of classes by letting me sit and do fuck all in your office so.. I can keep a secret. Since you've kept mine."

He laughs. He closes the distance between the two of you, kissing you again. You let him kiss you. Kissing him back. "Have you had sex before?" He asks. You nod your head.

"Good. I don't have to go slow." He laughs. Lifting you up off the ground. Your wrap your legs around him and let him carry you to his bedroom. Something you didn't think happened outside of movies. Same with having sex with your teacher.

He lays you down on his bed, climbing over the top of you. He unbuttons his jeans, tugging them down his legs.

"You can stop me. If you feel uncomfortable at any moment." He reassures you. "I know. I'm okay." You nod. He helps you get your pants down your legs, completely off. Your shirt following. He's starting to act different. His usual easy-going attitude is gone. Replaced completely by lust. He makes sure you're wet enough first, not wanting to hurt you.

He lines himself up with you and sinks into you, hearing you gasp.

Your eyes widen slightly.

You were really doing this. You were really having sex with him.

He draws back and thrusts in to the hilt, hearing you gasp out again. "Oh god-"

"Just call me John, sweetheart." He chuckles. You clutch at his sheets. Rolling your eyes at him.

He rests a hand beside your head, holding himself up. The muscles in his arm flex. He was fit, even for a gym teacher.

You screw your eyes shut, moaning out his name.

He didn't think that he'd really be able to get himself here. He figured he'd fail and lose his job trying to get you into bed with him

"You're so tight." He whines, a noise you didn't think he could make. He presses his thumb into your clit, lips parting slightly as he touches it. "Shit... your clit is so swollen baby." He licks his lips. You flinch away from his touch. "Sensitive too." He laughs. He rests his thumb on it just barely. rubbing gentle circles over it. He feels your thighs tightening up, starting to shiver slightly from his touch.

"You're doing so good for me. So fuckin' good lass."

You smile, and he tilts his head. "What?"

"I like that." You pant.

"What, when I call you lass?" He asks. You nod your head, hearing him chuckle. You smile, cheeks reddening. He smiles. He thinks despite the situation you're in, you're really cute.

"You're so cute with my cock inside you." He taunts. Hearing you gasp when he thrusts in harder than before.

He was getting close, he needed to get you there. He applies more pressure to your clit than he had before, rubbing eights into it and watching you visibly lose it underneath him. You're getting louder, breaths even more unsteady than the last. He watches you jerk slightly with every hard thrust he takes into you. You've got your lip pulled between your teeth, hands clutching at his cheeks. Your eyes are screwed shut. You're a sight for sore eyes.

His stomach tightens up. He's dangerously close. He wants to cum inside you sure, but he can't get a student pregnant.

"John.. I- I'm really close." You whine. He grits his teeth hard, nearly cumming right then and there at the sound of your voice. "It's alright doll. You can cum for me." He breathes, lowering his head to kiss you. He keeps his lips locked to yours until you're moaning into his lips, legs shaking as you reach your orgasm around him. His eyes roll back, you're tightening on him and it takes everything not to finish inside of you.

When he's given you time to ride out your high out, he draws his hips back, pulling away from the kiss. Stroking his cock and covering your stomach in his cum. He hisses, teeth gritted. Seeing him like that makes you realize the gravity of the situation you're in. How if someone found out about it you'd be in a lot of trouble, him in even more.

Good thing you were good at keeping secrets.

[emwallas176]

Episode 4x09 of Smallville was genuinely so confusing. Not only was the cold open so traumatizing but then the moral gymnastics that happens for the rest of the episode (and onward) is so confounding.

So the whole premise of the episode is that Lex sleeps around so much that he can’t even remember the names and faces of the women he sleeps with. Strange and concerning on multiple levels. Even if this was completely in character (which I don’t think it is), it is still highly concerning to forget the names and faces of people you’ve been intimate with. I think they said 13 women in the last year. While that’s not a low number, I don’t think it’s high enough to cause such forgetfulness. Therefore it almost seems to imply that there’s a level of disassociation that happens on Lex’s part during the experience (you can’t form new memories if you weren’t really paying attention when they happened). This theory is also backed up by the fact that Lex admits at the end of the episode that he has suicidal thoughts, and (very) unattached sex could be a negative coping mechanism for these dark emotions. As we can see at the start of the episode, Lex looks sad and completely alone at the event. And immediately after that he jumps into bed with someone. There’s clearly a connection there (at least in my mind).

All of the above, however, is not what confuses me. It’s the other characters that I don’t understand. First you have Clark who comes in (as seems to be becoming his pattern) guns blazing and accusatory. Of course this might be warranted seeing as Lex has been quite soundly framed for murder but I digress. During their talk and with what he finds out later, Clark gets very up in arms about Lex having sex with a lot of women. Despite whether this is right or wrong of him to do, it makes absolutely no sense for why it would drive Clark into LIONEL’S arms. Especially bc Lionel admits later on that Lex learned the behavior (sleeping with women and leaving them with a pair of diamond earrings) from Lionel himself?? Like it’s bad and dishonest if Lex does it but apparently makes Lionel trustworthy?? I’m confused. Also! Let’s not forget the fact that Lionel slept with another woman while his wife was DYING! But sure, Lex is the sexually deviant one. Sure.

Also, I feel like there is a lot of disconnect between how Lex and Alicia (in later episodes) are treated. Like Lex sleeps with women (consensually) and almost gets killed by one of them and Clark tells him that he doesn’t know if he can trust him anymore. Alicia forces Clark to marry her and almost forces him to have sex with her (read: non-consensual!) and the next episode she and Clark are dating again. Also, Lex gets framed for murder and when he’s found innocent, Clark rescues him, yes, but at the end of the day he still doesn’t trust Lex. Alicia gets framed for murder and is found innocent (and dies, unfortunately (seriously that was such a shocking death what the hell Smallville?!)) and Clark feels guilty and regretful and tells his parents he wishes he believed her sooner. Now I get that these two situations aren’t quite the same but the different reactions that Clark and the other characters have feel more like the writers playing into future roles (Lex is the villain, yada, yada) rather than actually looking at the characters as they are now.

I think I would have enjoyed the episode more if I’d understood what it was trying to say. Are you trying to say that Lex is “showing a different, darker side of himself” by not caring about the women he sleeps with? Okay then why is it okay for Lionel to do. Are you trying to say that sex in general is bad? Then why have Alicia be forgiven? Why have Lana trying to loose her virginity to Jason? In the end, the episode just left me feeling really frustrated bc I felt like there was something I was supposed to get but I just didn’t get it.

[evendimmer]

Breakfast at Agatha's - AgathaRio Short

Pairings: Agatha x Rio Summary: Rio loves food and Agatha doesn't understand why Word count: 410 Warnings: none. Disclaimer: This stunt is performed by an untrained cosmic being. Please do not try this at home. for @etherealvampyre

Rio loves food, especially breakfast food. And for some reason she gets roasted by Agatha for that all the time.

“I don’t get it, why do you even need to eat?" Agatha grumbles, cracking four eggs into the hot sizzling pan, “There’s absolutely no need for you to.”

Rio shakes her head and huffs a laugh, as if that is the silliest question she has ever heard. “Because I want to?” She shrugs casually, “And I like the taste of it?”

“But you’re death, death doesn’t eat,” Agatha frowns at her as she tosses the pan to flip the eggs over.

“Well death doesn’t need to fuck either.”

Agatha drops the spatula into the pan with a loud clang and shoots her a death glare. Rio just smirks and pokes her tongue in her cheek. To add fuel to the fire, she winks at Agatha with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Her wife lets out a long frustrated “UUUGGGGHHH,” and throws her hands down by her side.

Rio laughs again and this time, scoots closer and in one swift motion, pulls Agatha to the side to pin her hands down by the kitchen counter. Agatha lets out a surprise gasp before Rio brings their mouths together for a kiss, slow and tender. They part for a brief moment before closing in again for a far more heated kiss, tongue and teeth and all, with Agatha moaning into Rio’s lips the whole time.

Their limbs begin to tangle and hands start pawing at each other as their messy make out continues, until they are forced to break apart when the frying smell gradually turn too strong to ignore.

They have forgotten to turn off the stove.

“There goes your breakfast,” Agatha stares at the blackened remains of what used to be eggs and runs a hand to straighten her hair.

Rio just shrugs and scoops up the smoking contents of the pan, and shoves it in her mouth with one gulp.

Agatha stares at her, eyes widened.

Rio looks back with a questioning frown, unable to speak with her mouth full.

Agatha rolls her eyes and holds her hand out, “My spatula.”

Rio reluctantly takes it out of her mouth and mumbles a soft sorry, placing the sloppy mess onto Agatha’s hand. It has chew marks on.

Agatha stares at it for a second and dumps it into the trash without a word.

That’s her third spatula this month.

A/N: I'd like to think that even after spending so much time amongst mortals, Rio is actually terrible at being human. It probably doesn't help that Agatha is not the best teacher either, since she's probably raised in isolation and lived a relatively secluded life.

TLDR: Rio is not a psycho she's just a fucking child.

[sapphiresaphics]

I’m going to tell you a very important and personal story about my life.

When I was a bratty teenager, my mother slapped me.

Now my mother NEVER disciplined me that way, ever. My family was big on not using violence as a form of punishment. I was never spanked, I was never abused. By all accounts I grew up in a very loving family and got along well with my parents.

But on this particular day, I was not handling things well at all and I was lashing out in ways that were distressing my mom. And suddenly in a moment of absolute frustration at how difficult I was being… she slapped me.

Both of us were stunned by it. My mother had never raised a hand to me ever. I could see the tears in her eyes as she realized what she had done, and she quickly removed herself from the situation while I sat there in silence alone for quite a while.

Neither one of us ever spoke about it. She never apologized to me, and I never apologized to her. It’s always been this one unspoken thing about our relationship.

I tell you this story because I think it’s important to understanding that despite this one moment of violence I experienced from my mother, I still love her and have a great relationship with her to this day. One violent act does not sever me from the people I love. Even if we never speak of it, we both know and understand completely what happened and why. We are capable of forgiving and understanding each other.

So when I watch that scene with Caitlyn and Vi, I can see that Caitlyn is very clearly trying to remove herself from an intense situation where her emotions are running wild and she’s clearly not processing them in a healthy way. And I’m seeing that Vi is actively stopping her from leaving to get a moment to cool down and collect herself. And in that moment of heightened frustration and emotion disregulation I see Caitlyn use the butt of her gun to forcefully remove Vi from holding her back.

Just like my mom when she slapped me when I was making it impossible for her to process things.

And in Caitlyn’s eyes I see the same instant regret and realization that she just did something truly unthinkable that I saw in my mother’s eyes.

My point in all this is that I personally have experienced something like what happened to Vi first hand and I’m able to understand why it happened and know, without words, that everyone involved is regretful of it happening and we’re still able to love each other. Because we’re adults. It doesn’t change that at the time it hurt, but one act isn’t enough to make me forsake my family or my love for my mom.

And Vi, who has the biggest heart in the world, clearly forgives Caitlyn for what happened too. And Caitlyn, for her part, makes amends for it too by letting her anger for Jinx go and lets Vi choose to save her sister. That’s infinitely more than anything I got from my own mother lol

I just feel like people are being WAY too judgmental and quick to write Caitlyn off as an abuser, or a terrible partner, or whatever… when reality is often far more complicated and complex to deal with. And I genuinely DO believe (from firsthand experience) that frequency of the act DOES play a role.

for my own sanity, i try to stay away from caitvi discourse, but it’s truly baffling that some people still actively defend caitlyn hitting vi and are "dumbfounded" that it is enough for people to stop shipping them and voice their discontent about their relationship in s2.

one of the most common and dumb defenses i’ve seen is that caitlyn only hit vi once, as if the frequency of the act changes its nature. even a single instance of violence is still violence. highlighting that it happened only once does not negate its significance. it still happened, and it still matters. really, it's simple ...

but the dumbest attempt to defend this moment is comparing caitvi to other ships in arcane, when no other relationship in the series has a similar dynamic. in other pairings that involve physical conflict, both characters fight back or retaliate in some way, whether it’s jinx and ekko, viktor and jayce, or even vander and silco. but caitlyn hitting vi is entirely one-sided. vi does not hit back, and it is not framed as a fight. this moment is not a confrontation between equals but an instance of caitlyn exerting power over vi, someone who has already been through a lot of trauma (years of imprisonment and being beaten by enforcers), which caitlyn is very aware of.

but that’s if you watch arcane as a whole and not just for the relationship, because caitlyn hitting vi is a moment charged with systemic inequality. caitlyn represents the very institution that destroyed vi’s life. when she strikes her, it's not just an individual betrayal, it echoes the violence of an entire system that has oppressed zaunites for generations. it’s impossible to disregard that the historical and social power imbalance makes the scene feel so disturbing if you actually watch the show with your eyes open.

and it’s a major red flag. for caitlyn to hit vi, knowing what she has been through, is not just an act of violence but one that disregards the weight of vi’s suffering. she fails to see vi fully, not just as somebody willing to help her, a potential partner, or a fighter, but as someone wounded by her past.

also, i take back what i said about the dumbest attempt to defend this scene being comparing caitvi to other ships. the dumbest one is when people minimize caitlyn's action by defending the enforcers in general ... because no, the idea that the backlash against caitlyn hitting vi in arcane is simply a matter of an “american lens” is dumb asf. a lot of what's in the show mirrors the kind of systemic violence seen in many parts of the world, not just in the usa. y'all are not exceptional. class struggles, institutionalized oppression, and the abuse of power by those who hold privilege aren't exclusive to america. please wake up. these are themes that transcend national and cultural boundaries. vi’s trauma from imprisonment is not an american experience alone. the psychological and physical toll of being incarcerated is universal. how dumb do you have to be to actually think otherwise?

anyway, even if i don’t like that arcane didn’t frame caitlyn’s action as a serious issue and that it is treated as just another moment in their relationship, the willingness to ignore or rationalize it says more about the fandom’s biases than the actual content of the show imo ...

[gorgynei]

on one hand i understand entirely why some people are unsatisfied with vaxleths ending but the way marisha and liam played it saved it for me. on paper i probably wouldnt have liked it, but they delivered it with so much tentative joy and hope that i cant hate it. over the 30 years, keyleths love for vax curdled into grief, frustration, and hate. i think she absolutely had begun to get over him, then he saved her and throw a massive wrench in her healing. in order to fall in love again (with vax, but also with anyone) she has to move on from her original relationship with him, forgive him, and embrace the building of something new. it will never be the same, so its not a regression or a cheap happy ending. they have to work for it, together. thats how i feel anyway

[pascalislove]

THE CALL: Han Jeong-Won x Fem!Reader~19

Summary: Your arrival would change everything, even if Jeong-Won didn't know it yet.

Warnings: female reader, piv, , age difference(unspecified), creampie, sex on the couch, unprotected sex.

The room was immersed in dim light. The movie was moving on the screen, but neither of them were paying attention. Y/N was curled up next to Jeong-Won on the couch, their faces too close to focus on anything but each other. Their lips touched again and again, each kiss longer than the last. Y/N's soft laughter mixed with the slow pace of the scene that no one was watching. Jeong-Won slid a hand around her waist, pulling her even closer, completely oblivious to the outside world.

The idyll was suddenly broken when Jeong-Won's phone began to ring insistently on the coffee table. —Ignore it,— he murmured against her lips, refusing to move. Y/N giggled, amused by his stubbornness. But the device wouldn't budge, vibrating relentlessly with his boss's name on the screen. —"I don't think he's going to give up,"— she joked, barely breaking away to look at him mischievously. Frustrated, Jeong-Won sighed heavily and reluctantly grabbed the phone, bringing the phone to his ear. -Yeah? —He responded with his usual cold tone as he walked towards the window. Y/N watched him, trying to hold back her laughter as he watched him deal with what was clearly an endless conversation. —Sure, I'll check it tomorrow... Yes, I understand... —The seriousness of his expression only made Y/N want to tease him more. With a mischievous smile, he crept closer. —Okay, but...— Before he could finish his sentence, Y/N began to kiss his neck softly, leaving small warm trails that made him tense. —Y/N...—he murmured in a low tone, trying to push her away without success while his boss continued talking on the other side.

She stifled a laugh, enjoying watching him lose control for one more. She continued kissing him playfully, without giving him any respite. —Yes, I understand,— Jeong-Won said, his voice noticeably tense, trying to maintain his composure as Y/N continued with her antics. Finally, with a defeated sigh, he ended the call abruptly. —Was it necessary?— he asked, turning to look at her with a mixture of reproach and amusement. —“Absolutely,”— she replied, laughing as she backed away from the couch. —"You look so cute when you're frustrated".— -Cute? —he repeated in disbelief, advancing towards her slowly. —"Cute and desperate,"— she added, winking at her. —You're going to pay for this,—Jeong-Won growled, his voice deep and heavy with promise.

Before she could process his words, he grabbed her waist, gently twisting her until she was trapped between the back of the couch and his body. The world stopped in that instant, and the air around them became dense, almost electric. His lips found her without hesitation, claiming her with a mixture of contained fury and latent desire.

The kiss was slow at first, as if he wanted to torture her with the sweetness of his control. However, the tension that had been building between them during those brief moments exploded, and the contact became urgent, hungry. She slid her fingers down the back of his neck, tangling them in his dark hair as she pulled him closer, as if the closeness wasn't enough anymore. Jeong-Won's lips moved over hers with a precision that could only be described as devastating, as if he were determined to make her forget anything but him.

—You have no idea what you just started,—he whispered against her lips, his breathing erratic, but laden with tantalizing promises. She smiled faintly, challenging him silently, without the need for words. And that seemed to push him even further to the brink of surrender. Jeong-Won lowered himself slowly, leaving a line of warm kisses from her jaw to the crook of her neck, where her pulse was racing.

The room was filled with their breathy sighs and the soft touch of their bodies, which settled perfectly on that sofa that now seemed like the only place in the world that mattered. She arched her back instinctively, seeking more of his touch as his hands traced paths that sent shivers down her spine with every second. Jeong-Won looked at her then, his dark eyes shining with something deep, almost reverent. —I'm not going to rush,—he promised quietly, his lips brushing hers. —Not when I have you here.— And so he did. Between slow caresses and endless kisses, time lost its meaning. The sofa became the silent witness of his dedication, where every touch and every look said what words could never express.

Until finally he entered her and began to cover her slowly, she begged him to go faster, but true to his word he did not rush. Y/N moaned non-stop, until finally they both came. When everything was finally calm, she rested on his chest, both of them breathing hard, but satisfied. Jeong-Won ran a hand through his hair tenderly, leaving behind any trace of the impenetrable man he used to be. —“I definitely paid,”— she murmured with a soft smile, without opening her eyes. Jeong-Won let out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against his skin. —I haven't finished charging you yet,— he whispered close to her ear. —What....?—Y/N say. But before she could say more, Jeong-Won had already caught her in his arms, leaning over her as they both laughed helplessly. The film was still in progress, but now it was the last of his interests.

This story does not follow the plot of the series, tell me if you like it and if you want me to tag you in the chapters🫶

Tag list:

@anamiad00msday , @czarinera , @beebeechaos, @muchwita, @otakusimp1, @aori-aka03-blog, @preppyfella

THE CALL MASTERLIST

[kuronanerd]

…cupid’s garden . ݁₊ ⊹

જ⁀➴ valentine’s special with Haru Hayate!

fluff, very slight angst, established relationship, slightly suggestive at the end if you squint, x f! reader.

a/n: this was a silly request from my bsf, so I hope she likes it. Also, I felt as if there needed to be MORE haru fics/appreciation. (All the 3 haru fans scream in joy.) But seriously, whoever sees this, enjoy, & feel free to request other characters.

The atmosphere in the air was thick and tense, almost suffocating. It was the kind which made the hairs on your neck stand up. Haru was standing across from you, a faint frown tugging at his lips as you stood in front of him, arms crossed, and a scowl adorning your features.

You had been holding everything back for weeks—the way he seemed to slip further away from you, always busy with practice, and too wrapped up in his career, leaving you waiting for whatever scraps of time he had left. Of course, you tried to be understanding, but no one likes being put aside and forgotten.

“You’re always so busy Haru.” You said, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“I understand it’s your career, for gods sakes—it’s your livelihood! but I’m tired of being set aside to sit still and look pretty for you. I’m not asking for everything, I just want you to try and make time for me, please?”

The words stung as you verbalized them, they were like salt in the wound for Haru. The pain in your voice was evident, the hurt was clinging onto your words, despite your best efforts of trying to hide it.

Haru’s gaze fell to the floor. The space between you two grew further, the silence, heavier. He absolutely hated seeing you upset, and even worse, he hated being the cause of it. He knew you were right, he had been neglecting you for soccer, and the reality of it all, crushed him. There was no excuse, no alibi he could give you, just the painful truth that he had been absent, and it had hurt you.

“I’m sorry.” Haru finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His expression softened with guilt, as his shoulders only slumped in defeat.

Haru was never the best with words, especially when it came down to his feelings. But even so, he knew you deserved more than what his lame excuse for an apology could give you. His little gestures of affection wouldn’t be enough this time, he knew that. So he made it his mission to make it up to you, by any means necessary.

“it’s just hard balancing everything…but I’ll try harder. I’ll make more time, just for you. I promise.” He didn’t know what else to say, but he meant what he said. Haru’s heart ached with the disappointment he had for himself.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat becoming unbearable. You knew Haru meant what he said, but it didn’t change the reality of the situation. It didn’t change how your bed, which was once fit for two, would only ever be occupied by one, how you would spend your nights eating at a dinner table alone, and how the empty space of it all, began to consume you. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but your frustration still hung in the air.

“That’s all I’m asking for Haru. I don’t want to compete with your career, since I know that’s a fight I’ll lose every time...”

The words left your lips, filled with raw and intense emotion, and it left a sour taste on your tongue. But there was nothing else that said from either of you, just the weight of your words echoing in Haru’s mind. His eyes watched as you walked out of the room, but he knew you needed space, he knew you needed to think, so he didn’t stop you. Instead, he began to think on how he could ever make it up to you. But would his efforts be enough? Could his actions ever fill the growing gap between you two?

—

In the days that followed, Haru found himself thinking of ways to make it up to you, and he managed to conjure up the perfect plan. Of course, It was all thanks to the small garden he had in the backyard of your home. It had always been his sanctuary, it was his place to unwind after his soccer practices, and now, it had turned into his master plan to win you over.

Haru’s love for gardening and all things botanical, was passed down to him from his grandfather. He would always share his life before the U-20’s and NEL with you. He’d tell you stories about the different kinds of plants he would tend to, his life on the farm, and how if he hadn’t gone down the path of soccer, he’d live his life dedicated to plants. He even once shared with you a dream, that if you both chose to have kids, he would also pass down his love for gardening to them, just like his grandfather did with him. That dream Haru shared with you always warmed your heart, since it gave you insight on the type of man he was.

So everyday, once Haru would get home, he’d greet you with a warm smile, obviously still giving you your space, but making an effort to shower you with as much affection as possible. He’d also find himself in the garden after hours, planting all sorts of surprises for you. His body would ache from practice and his intense stretching workouts, but it didn’t matter to him. The thought of making things right with you, pushed him forwards. He’d work quietly and deliberately, and with every pull of a weed, every stroke of his hand through the soil, his mind would wander back to you. He would think about the words you spoke to him that day, the way you pleaded with him to make an effort, to be present in your life. So he worked harder, not just in the garden but also in your relationship, making sure you finally had a bed fit for two.

Of course, this wasn’t easy for Haru. The demands of his career were constant, his schedule was always tight and unpredictable, not to mention, he hadn’t gotten a good nights sleep in days. But no matter how much his body protested, Haru couldn’t stop, you could say it was his way of rebelling against the things that caused him to stray so far away from you.

But whenever he did find himself at his wits end, he would think back on the times you would sit with him in the garden, your laughter filling the air, and the way you so perfectly complimented his flowers. He appreciated your warmth, your kindness, your patience. How you never asked him for anything expensive or extravagant, just his presence, a shared moment between you two.

And he wanted all of it back, no, he needed it back.

So as Valentine’s Day approached, Haru would finally and officially, apologize to you. He wasn’t the most romantic, not by a long shot, but he knew the things you loved, the things that mattered to you. The flowers he had planted for you with such care, over the past few weeks leading up to this day would finally become a symbol of his love towards you and his commitment to change.

The days continued to fly by, and Haru would continue to carefully select the flowers he knew you’d adore. He even made you a bouquet out of them, simple yet beautiful as ever—just like you. With every delicate petal he’d arrange, he also left meaning and love behind them, and he’d think you every step of the way.

—

When Valentine’s Day arrived, Haru was more than ready for you. Obviously, he was nervous. He didn’t know how you would react, or if this would be enough of an apology for you, but he knew he had to do it. So discreetly as ever, he went about his day, and you went about yours. ‘Both’ of you had gone to ‘work’, but little did you know, Haru had other plans. Instead, he made his way to the local corner store, and bought all types of decorations for your big surprise. It was simple really, all he did was buy the prettiest rose petals he could find, and heart shaped candles of course. Upon getting home, he immediately got to work, neatly placing them from the front door to the backyard.

He waited for you to get home, his anxiety gnawing at his confidence with every minute that passed. His heart was racing and he tried to calm his nerves, he wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, but for you, it was more than worth it. So when Haru heard the jingle of your keys, he quickly took in a deep breath, and without thinking, sprang off the couch. His fingers brushing delicately against the bouquet he had spent weeks crafting with his own hands.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed throughout the house, and Haru didn’t waste a single second. He carefully grabbed the bouquet and quickly moved to the backyard. The garden was bursting with color, and most of all, the symbol of love Haru had been working so hard on to show you. He paused for a moment, looking around at his creation, and everything was perfect.

You stepped through the front door, a tired sigh escaping your lips as the weight of the day had left you feeling drained. You placed your keys onto the entryway table, before you noticed the scattered petals on the floor. There was a trail of them and candles. It was something so simple yet beautiful. No way Haru did this, he was never the type to do some grand gesture like this. So your curiosity piqued, and you followed the path of the gorgeous trail.

You couldn’t help but smile softly, your gaze lifting to each one of the candles which flickered as they lined the way to your destination.

“Haru?” You whispered, your voice filled with curiosity.

“Where are you?”

You continued to follow the trail through the living room and out the backyard, and at first, you thought you were dreaming when you saw what was in front of you. The backyard had been completely transformed, the beautiful flowers and greenery left you completely speechless. But the best part of it all, was Haru. He was standing right in front of you, with a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers, your favorite flowers.

Haru walked towards you, slowly, deliberately, and quietly. Each step closer to you was filled with purpose, as if he was trying to savor each second of the moment. But once he reached you, everything else faded away, he lifted the bouquet out in front of you, and gave you the most sincere gaze.

“I’m sorry for always being so distant towards you.” Haru croaked, his voice was low, but filled with so much emotion for you.

“I know this will hardly make up for it, but I wanted to show you how dedicated I am to you. I never want to make you feel alone, ever again.”

You stood there completely stunned and speechless, as Haru’s words slowly sunk in. Words couldn’t describe how deeply you appreciated everything he had done for you. The sincerity in his eye, the care he had put into everything—it hit you right in the heart.

“Haru… this is more than enough.” You sweetly replied, your heart swelling with love.

Your hands softly reached out towards the beautiful bouquet, taking it out of his hands. Your fingers brushed against his, and it was an innocent, yet electric touch you both had been wanting. Haru’s hand gently cupped your cheek, and he met your eyes with so much warmth and love.

“This is for all the times I didn’t show you my love. I want to make things right, starting now.”

Your heart felt as if it were blossoming, and you stepped closer to Haru, wrapping your arms around him. The garden, the flowers, the emotion it all invoked in you, none of it mattered more than the feeling of standing there with him.

“I love you so much Haru.” You whispered against him, breathing in the sweet scent of his cologne.

Haru’s arms only tightened around you in response, pulling you in closer, as his lips found his way onto yours. It was a slow and tender kiss, but beneath it, was passion and a need for more. The love Haru had kept hidden all along came undone in your shared kiss. It was as if time stopped, and the only thing existing in that moment were his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck in hopes of getting more out of the kiss. Haru knew you well, and so, he followed your league, his hands slightly trailing lower from your hips, yet pulling you closer.

When you two finally broke away from each other, both of you were breathless, and a small giggle escaped your mouth as Haru leaned his forehead against yours. The moment hung in the air, the flowers Haru worked so hard on planting and taking care of, surrounded you.

And as Haru picked you up into his arms, placing his lips back onto yours—you knew this moment was the beginning of a new Haru Hayate.

I really hope everyone enjoyed! This is my first time ever writing a fanfic on here, so I was really nervous to post this. I’m very new to this (if you can’t already tell), so I can understand if my writing isn’t the best. But i’ll try hard with working on improving.

Once again, thank you all for reading! and till we meet again (˶˃ ᵕ ��˶)

[softcursechoso]

Somewhere, We Do: Ch. 1

JJK x Reader

Nanami x Reader

MDNI! FROM THIS SENTENCE ON YOU ARE AGREEING THAT YOU ARE 18+

NO SPOILERS ARE OFF LIMITS!

Ch. 1 Warnings: None

Summary: Drowning in the monotony of corporate life, you and Nanami both find yourselves at the end of your ropes—exhausted, overworked, and utterly disillusioned. The world of deadlines and fluorescent office lights has drained you both, but fate has other plans. In each other, you find solace, understanding, and a passion neither of you expected. But in a world where duty always comes first, can love this intense truly last?

Words: 3.5k+

HAZELNUT ESPRESSO

Shinjuku : 1:30pm : The Flour Garden

“If I have to remake one more goddamn Iced Honey Lavender Matcha with oat milk, two pumps of vanilla, one pump of caramel, light ice, and a dusting of cinnamon I’m gonna lose my shit!” The voice of a very impatient barista cut through the crowd like a knife. 

The Flour Garden is where you were. A modern jungle of caffeine fueled chaos was clearly on the menu today. It was nestled in the heart of Shinjuku. The cafe was an architectural fusion of industrial minimalism and warm organic textures. There were polished concrete floors, matte black steel framing that ran down the glass windows and let in the hazy midday winter sunlight.

Hanging ferns and pothos cascaded from geometric planters, and was a nice counter to the contrasting monochrome furniture. It was a nicely decorated spot when it wasn’t packed practically shoulder to shoulder.

Every table was filled, and every booth occupied. The sheer volume of conversation created an ever-present buzz that crackled with frustration- which is what probably ticked off the barista. But shit, it was lunch time in one of Tokyo’s busiest districts.

Maybe the frustration was getting to you too. “Tch, be a little more unprofessional for those in the back, lady.” You mumbled under your breath, “Is it too much to ask for a black coffee and a damn donut? The hell are these people ordering?” 

A low grunt of agreement rumbled behind you, “Tell me about it.”

The line inched forward at a snail’s pace. No, worse than a snail’s pace. Was time reversing? 

You crossed your arms over your chest, “The cafe up the street has food twice as good with half the attitude.” 

The stranger behind you spoke again, a tinge of irritation behind it. “I have to be back to work in thirty minutes.”

You laughed, exhausted, from the relatability. “Same, and it’s so dumb. I spend half my break walking to this shitty cafe, just to stand in line for ten minutes. I sprint back to work, and attempt to scarf it down in five. How the hell does an hour lunch turn into five minutes?” 

Ughhh, you were pulling your hair out… well, not actually. The swoop bun was quite sleek today. Couldn’t mess that up. 

“That’s a desk job for you.” The person sighed.

The words were a little too close to home. Who were you talking to? 

You finally turned around, and when you did, you stalled… like completely. The man behind you was tall, broad, and absolutely miserable looking. Somewhere between wanting to wither away and wanting to beat everyone's ass in this godforsaken cafe. 

His blonde hair was neatly parted to the side, and you couldn’t really see from this angle, but it kind of looked like he had a bit of a fade going on in the back perhaps? Maybe a little undercut or something? He was very handsome, and his features were sharp. Kento Nanami.

He radiated exhaustion and the kind of stoic indifference that only came from years of corporate suffering. You knew it all too well. 

“Tell me about it.” You laughed slightly nervous over knowing who you were talking to now. “Where are they overworking you at? Cause listen, I-”

Before you could finish talking, something slammed down hard on your foot. Your right black pump was scuffed. Why?

“Ow!” You reeled back.

A man had stepped in front of you, cutting in line. His heavy boot stepped on your foot in the process. 

You stare at the man with knitted eyebrows, just baffled at this shit. “Um, excuse you?”

“Excuse you.” He snaps back at you with unwarranted sarcasm. 

You gesture behind you at the line that stretched all the way to the entrance and nearly out the door. “The line starts way back there. You can’t just cut—and also, you stepped on my foot, hello?” 

The man barley even turned back your way, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “Shut up, bitch. I only stepped out of line for a minute.”

First of all… what? You didn’t know where to begin. The fact that he was in line, sure, but he definitely had been gone for like fifteen minutes. Or maybe the fact that he never asked you to hold his place. Or the fact that he was so casually calling you a bitch!

Yeah, he picked the right one today. You took a sharp inhale, preparing for rebuttal when- a delicate hand is placed on your back for a brief moment. 

“Excuse me.” The businessman stepped in front of you, partially blocking your view. “You can either step out of this line, or you can step outside.” 

Oh shit!

His tone was calm, but the weight of it was deadly. It felt like the temperature shifted. It was winter in Tokyo, but that ice had nothing on this man. It was suddenly very cold in here.

The man who cut you turned around and immediately froze up. It was as if he had sensed something primal and inescapable. A hulking businessman at the end of his rope? He didn’t want this fight. 

“Whatever. Food sucks here anyway.” He hurried away.

“Hold on.” He placed a powerful hand on the man’s shoulder, “You stepped on her foot.”

It wasn’t just a comment. It was a very stern suggestion to do something about it. Make amends if you will.

The wiry man looked at Nanami with the fear of God in his eyes before turning them to you. “My- uh, my bad lady.” He shrugged out of the light grasp and hastily left. 

Nanami took a step to the side, gesturing for you to resume your spot in front of him. Almost like the warmth had returned in one fell swoop. Could this guy control the temperature or what?

You turned to him with a grateful smile, “Thank you so much. That was very kind. You didn’t have to do that.” 

Before he could respond, the barista’s sharp voice rang out. “Hello?! It’s your turn miss there’s better food up the street.”

Oh damn, she heard that? 

You bowed politely to the man behind you once more before stepping up to the counter. The menu loomed before you and suddenly you went blank. What did you want again?

“Hmm…” You tapped your fingers against the counter, eyes skimming the options. “Strawberry danish… nah, might be too sweet. Chicken Pesto Sandwich- I’m not gonna finish that. Miso butter toast?” You sucked your teeth, “That’s not a meal though…”

The barista sighed loudly, “Are you being serious? You spent all that time complaining about the service and you have the audacity to come up to this counter not knowing what you want?”

This lady was so rude, but unfortunately she was very right. You couldn’t even be mad. 

“Hold on, that’s not true. I know what I want… I juuuuust…” Panic began to set in. Fuck! You were taking too much time! “I waaaant theeee…”

“Ma’am?!”

“Hojicha dirty latte and gochujang miso grilled tofu?” You regretted it right after saying it. Why were you trying something new? This never ended well. Oh well.

“Finally.” The barista huffed under her breath as she began to put in your order. 

Before you swiped your card, you leaned in a little bit. “Oh, can you also ring me up for a hazelnut espresso for the guy behind me?”

It was your way of saying thank you. After she took your name and you paid, you’d scan the cafe for an open seat.

Like the heavens above blessed you with luck, a small group walked away from a booth. Ah! Yes! And they didn’t leave a mess. Amazing.

You swooped in immediately and slid into the seat. You’d smooth down your black pencil skirt before sitting down. Yes, a black skirt suit is what you wore. Black blazer and white button up with a black tie. Just like the guy behind you said- that’s a desk job for you. 

You’d pull out your phone while you waited for your name to be called. The cafe remained a chaotic blur of white collar workers rushing in and out. Groups of college students huddled in conversations. Overworked baristas slamming espresso shots into machines. Meanwhile you were half tuning out when you got a message notification.

Your best friend and coworker. It was always a risk opening her messages in public… or private. You clicked it open absentmindedly and immediately regretted it.

[Kaya 🤡]: LOOK AT THIS DICK PIC MY STALKER EX SENT ME! LOOK AT IT! WHY WOULD HE SEND THIS?!?!

Your phone nearly slipped your grasp as you attempted to click off, “Holy-” You slapped the phone face down on the table hoping no one in this crowded ass cafe happened to see. 

It was never a dull moment with this woman. The two of you met back in high school. You remained tight despite going to different colleges, and serendipitously ended up working at the same office. 

With a heavy sigh, you typed back: 

[You]: Why the hell would YOU send ME this?!

The message was read immediately, and three little dots danced as she typed back.

[Kaya 🤡]: Because I needed to share my pain. That’s what best friends do. Now you have to suffer with me.

[You]: Block him.

[Kaya 🤡]: No, because then where would I get my daily dose of horror?

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head with a faint smile. This was absurd, but it was also the nature of your relationship. Never failed to exhaust you. Never failed to entertain you.

As you buried your face in your phone, your peripheral vision caught movement. You glanced up to see a small plate with mont blanc set in front of you. Chestnut strands cascading in delicious swirls and dusted with powdered sugar. Mmmm!

Your eyes traced the retreating hand that placed it there, following it up the sleeve of a well tailored black suit. Oh..OH! Him!

“Consider it a thank you for the coffee.” He gave an almost imperceptible smile.

You gazed up at him with a slightly amused smile. “I bought the coffee to thank you for earlier though. Seems you’ve one upped me.”

His expression didn’t change much, but there was something subtle in his eyes. Something knowing.  “So it seems.”

You exhaled a small laugh, “Well at this rate we’ll be locked in a cycle of favors. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that kind of commitment.” 

He made a faint sound, almost a hum of amusement, though his face remained neutral.

You tilted your head slightly, “Where did you say you worked again?”

“I didn’t.” He replied simply. “But I work about three blocks away. Stockbroker.”

You let out a knowing- “Ooh. Salaryman?”

He exhaled through his nose like something caught between a laugh and a sigh. “Something like that.”

You pointed at yourself, “Human Resources. I’m in that similar direction.” You nodded to the empty seat, “Would you like to have a seat? I dare you to find somewhere else to sit. It’s packed in here.”

He hesitated, “I couldn’t impose.”

You rolled your eyes with a light scoff, “Sure you can. It’s just a seat, not a ticket to a luxury resort. If it were, then yeah, I’d reconsider.” 

Something flickered in his gaze. Interest perhaps? Small, but distinct. “Dream vacation, I assume?” 

You nodded, resting your chin in your palm. “I’ll only talk about it if you impose on my lunch break.” 

He gave a soft nod before taking a seat opposite you in the booth.

Hell yeah! You just secured the sexy salaryman at your table! Okay- play it cool…

You smiled, “Just so we’re not total strangers, you can call me-”

You perked up upon hearing your name get called for your order. Finally.

“That.” You gestured toward the counter, “You can call me exactly that.”

For the first time the faintest trace of amusement crossed his features, “Nanami.” He nodded, “And I appreciate your generosity.”

“You’re welcome Nanami.” You pushed yourself out of the booth, “I’d ask you to save my seat, but then you’d be one upping me again and I just can’t have that. I will be right back.”

You made quick work of collecting the food you definitely didn’t care to eat or drink before you returned to the table. You’d scoot back in the booth and start digging into that mont blanc.

“So,” he prompted, lifting his cup. “Tell me about this dream vacation.”

You stuck your fork into the dessert, a smile crossing your face before you started, “Oh, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. It’s been a long time coming.” “Let’s hear it.”

“Malaysia.” Your smile softened. “Waking up in an overwater villa with the waves gently lapping beneath me. The sunrise spilling gold across the ocean. I want my mornings to be slow. Just wandering the streets, sipping teh tarik. Maybe visit the market and buy some tropical fruit. Quiet afternoon in the Cameron Highlands. At night I wanna see the lantern lit markets and just enjoy the life of not having to send another goddamn email explaining that begging your coworkers to invest in your pyramid scheme does not qualify as networking… even if for a moment.” 

The words just poured out of you. It was unfiltered and passionate, and although Nanami didn’t outright smile, you noticed how he never interrupted. He sat with his elbows on the table, fingers loosely curled around his espresso cup, and his hazel eyes fixed on you. 

You’d continue, your eyes turning slightly out the window beside you now, “I think I’ve been putting it off because I have a feeling that if I go I’ll probably never come back.”

There was a silence. Comfortable silence. Like the words were being considered and taken in. But it was then that you realized that was probably way too much to be saying to a stranger.

“I am so sorry.” You frowned just slightly, “I feel like for someone who works HR I should know social boundaries a little better. That was probably a lot for someone I just met.”

The blonde shook his head, “Not at all.”

There was no false politeness in his tone. No empty courtesy. It was just calm and measured with sincerity. It was like he meant it. 

You took another forkful of the mont blanc, “I usually don’t talk this much.”

“I usually don’t listen this much.”

Well that caught you off guard. 

“So what I’m hearing is, I’m special?” You tilted your head, smirking.

“I might phrase it a little differently, but sure.”

You chuckled, “Careful Nanami. That almost sounded like a compliment.”

He exhaled, “Well, slip of the tongue I suppose.”

You grinned, “Well since I completely overshared, it’s only fair you do the same. Dream vacation. Let’s hear it.”

You could see his eyes almost dim. Like there was something so real about the answer he was going to give you.

“Home.”

Shit…

Maybe it was an answer far too real. If home was a dream vacation, then that meant he was being far more overworked than he ever let on.

The conversation continued, and the hustle of the city roared outside. It felt like time was kind enough to slow down for you just a little bit so you could enjoy this conversation with a relatable stranger. 

The smell of brewed espresso and cinnamon wafted through the air. It was like a warm moment of peace. 

“Yeah, so I studied at Duke. Four years, in and out and then I came back to Japan.” You shrugged, “What do I have to show for it? A mountain of debt hidden by a prestigious name.”

Nanami made a quiet, amused sound. Almost like he knew.

“That sounds like higher education.” He took a slow sip of espresso. “And unfortunately, not an uncommon story.”

You sighed dramatically, slumping in your seat just a tiny bit, “I know, but you see, I had this idea that I could be the exception. Get my degree, come back, and just boom! Instantly land a high paying job with a great title and live up to my full potential.”

“And instead?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Instead, I came back as another statistic, Nanami.” You sat back up.

Your words were clearly amusing to him.

You leaned forward now, resting your chin on your palm, “I didn’t go to one of the best schools just to have some underqualified middle manager with a big ego push all their busywork onto me… but according to my bank statements- yes the hell I did.” 

And with that, something incredible happened. You actually got the stoic man to laugh. Not exhale. Not smirk. Not just a hint of amusement. A low, but very real and genuine chuckle. That honestly felt like a win, and you would certainly count it as one.

You wouldn’t call him out for actually having laughed for the first time during this conversation, but you were going to internalize it for sure. 

Still smirking, he rested his arm on the table, “Alright then, tell me this. What is the worst part about your job?”

You let out a long, suffering sigh, “Oh God, I have decision paralysis now. There are so many options. I guess I have no right to really complain because I just got this job like three months ago, but it’s the same shit as the last job. The work life balance speech they sell you during orientation is a joke.”

The man nodded as his intrigue deepened. “Yes, the infamous corporate lie.”

You nodded, “Yeah, they're like we want you to thrive. We care about our employees. Take your time to adjust. Go at your own pace.” Your eyelids lowered in irritation, “Then a month in they start sending emails at 11:42pm like- Hey can you circle back on this?”

There it was again, you coaxed another laugh and it was so worth it.

He set his cup down, “And of course they follow up the next morning asking you something else as if you weren’t already up to your neck in work.”

You slapped your hand against the table. “Exactly! And you can’t even be mad because technically they didn’t say you had to answer last night, but if you don’t you're suddenly not a team player and you’re the unreliable one in the office now.”

The blonde sighed deeply, “Ah, corporate manipulation at its finest.” He’d pause for a brief moment, “So you think there is more to life than just work?”

It was a simple question, but he asked in a way to gauge where your head was at. It wasn’t that he was seeking an answer to some deep philosophical question. But, come on, did he know who he was asking?

“I think that most people convince themselves that work is the means to an end, but that’s just because they don’t know what they’d be doing otherwise.” You shugged, “I mean there has to be me more to life than this, because I for one cannot put up with this shit for the next forty years.” 

He’d chuckle once more, and you could tell he was getting comfortable with doing so.

You’d continue. “I think life is about building character.” Your fingers traced the rim of your now finished latte. “It’s not about standing on the shoulders of giants, but becoming one yourself. Forging your own path.” 

Once again his gaze was steady and calculating. Listening.

“You either stand with the greats or look up to them as far as I see it.” You grinned, “And I don’t know about you, but looking up for too long makes my neck kinda hurt.

He laughed once more, “You’re an interesting one.”

What a compliment! Or, at least you’d take it as one.

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated against the table. Your alarm! Shit! You were supposed to be back already. Your lunch break was over, and you were officially late. It was worth it though. This conversation was nice. 

“Damn, back to work for me.”

Nanami finally took the last sip of his espresso and collected the trash from his lunch. “Same here.”

You smiled at him, genuinely, “This conversation was a surprising pleasure.”

His eyes stayed locked on you, like he was taking in the moment one final time before the interaction was up. “The pleasure was all mine.” He’d pause for a beat, “Should our paths cross again, you can just call me Kento.”

Ah! Your heart! Did it speed up or stop?! It was so hard to tell! Kento?! First name basis?! 

“Alright, Kento. I’ll be seeing you.” You’d gather your purse and your tray with your now eaten lunch before heading back to the corporate battlefield.

You’d take a half step away before turning to him again, “Thank you.” Your voice was softer this time, “It’s been a long time since I laughed like that.”

He didn’t know it, but you felt like you were drowning lately. It was like you both met at the end of your rope and somehow combined it to buy each other a little extra time. It was more than just a pleasant conversation, for both of you.

Your feet felt like anchors now. Were you really about to leave? You were going to let this sexy salaryman with all this potential walk out of your life like that? Your heart was pounding. Could you ask for his number? Would that be weird? Too suggestive? Shit!

You’d take a few steps away, but something was gnawing at you. Don’t do it. Don’t leave yet! You turned around…

“Hey.” You both spoke in unison.

“Yes?” You replied first.

“Please, after you.” 

You hesitated, forcing your nerves down, “Do you want to exchange numbers?”

His eyes stayed on you, and the faint smirk crossed his lips, “You read my mind.”

Play! It! Cool! 

You pulled out your phone and handed yours to him, and he’d do the same for you. This was not the day you were planning on having, but honestly, after all the corporate bullshit you’d been putting up with lately… it was the one you deserved. 

Kento Nanami

New Contact: Saved

[everwalldigan]

Hey I am having a scene in a fic where a very high strung moment Damian begins to curse in Arabic. What would be the correct way to phrase that?

Thank you

Ooh great question! There are a LOT of very colourful Arabic curse words varying in severity but in Damian’s case he was like raised to very strict and high manners, so even in high strung situations he probably wouldn’t use the colloquial “lower class” swear words. I’m going to list some of the “less vulgar” swear words I know (keep in mind I’m Iraqi and these are the swear words I know in my dialect and ones in high Arabic, there are soo so so many more.)

The most generic swear words insult the parents so you’d say “yabn ___”

Yabn Al kalb (son of a dog) or you could skip the parent and call them a dog (kalb) (tho idk how insulting Damian would find that cause he loves and respects dogs)

Yabn Al lai’in (son of the cursed) (this one’s so clean I’ve heard it in kids cartoons before) you could also just say “Al la’ana” which means “the curse” could be used as “shit”

Honestly Damian would probably use High Arabic swear words and sound like an Arabic dub character ASHSJSJDJ absolutely hilarious to any other Arab person in the vicinity.

Al’ama (Lebanese/yemeni region dialect) or as we like to say “a’amaaaaaaa” meaning the blindness, could be substituted for “damn!”

You could also make him say “ya a’ama” (you blind person) (keep in mind those are the tamest I can think of, the other ones are MUCH more offensive)

You could always go the route of Damian saying… angry sounding words in Arabic that aren’t REALLY swear words just to let out his frustration without everyone in the close vicinity understanding him. You can just make him rant about the situation in Arabic, maybe with some choice words like “ahlbal” (naive) or “ghabi” (stupid)

If you want to know ones in a specific dialect I can help with that too, I know Egyptians have some really funny ones (ya nhar iswid! - oh black day) and idk how much you wanna tie him to Islam but we also like to literally curse people (eg: Allah ya’amik - may god blind you or Allah yagbirak: may god put you in the grave)

If it’s from another persons POV who doesn’t know Arabic they wouldn’t be able to distinguish anything from an angry ranting boy, if it’s from Damian’s POV you can say “he says some choice words his mother would smack him for” or something like that cause again he was raised in a VERY high class setting, as a prince basically and cursing would be “beneath him”

[lurkingshan]

Theory of Love Episode 2: Love Actually

Let me get this out of the way right at the top: I'm so mad that Third made me rewatch this terrible movie! If you haven't seen it, I implore you to keep it that way, but here's what you need to know:

The film is a series of interconnected "romance" vignettes, most involving inappropriate relationships, laced with misogyny and homophobia and racism in pretty much every storyline, that is inexplicably beloved by the masses.

I am judging Third for liking and taking inspiration from this film, if I'm being honest. And this is the specific scene he drew from:

For context, this is a man secretly confessing his shameful crush on his best friend's wife who he barely knows (which the film presented as romantic). Third apparently connected with this man's hopeless love for someone he can't have to the extent that he decided to try confessing to Khai in the same way (after Bone reminded him of it), despite the fact that this confession was doomed to fail, by design!

And of course, this didn't work, because Khai was completely unable to receive this as a love confession in the context of their current relationship. And I think some part of Third had to know that would be the case. He knows Khai! When Khai offered an interpretation for Third's actions that fit within his framework of their relationship, Third let it happen instead of using his words to communicate his true intentions. He's not ready to succeed at this, and I think part of him finds sitting in the torment of his unrequited feelings romantic.

One of the things I like about this episode is it establishes some clear parameters around their friendship and how Khai sees it. First of all, Khai does care about Third, and he pays attention to him and tries to take care of him within the boundaries of platonic male friendship. Sure, Khai is selfish sometimes, but Third likes him for a reason. They genuinely get along, have a lot of shared interests, and Khai gives attention to Third and goes out of his way to check in with him and make him feel better (without realizing he's the reason Third is down in the dumps in the first place). They are friends, for real.

Second, Khai believes in separating friendship from dating. He has a rule to never date friends--because he knows his approach to dating around and having casual sex is not compatible with involving people he actually cares about--and he keeps these two categories of people separate in his own mind. And because of this, he is absolutely unable to process Third's desire to move from one category to the other. For Khai, Third is his most important person, his best friend that he intends to stick with his entire life. The people he dates are much more ephemeral, passing interests that he doesn't much care about as they come and go. He can't think about Third in that context, and so he won't. When Third attempts to confess to him using the Love Actually scene as his inspiration, you can see Khai finding a way to rationalize it in real time to make it something else.

And as much as I find Third's expectations for and failures to communicate with Khai a bit frustrating, I want to give him credit for trying to put himself out there. His fear about making himself clear to Khai is completely understandable, even just in the context of their friendship before you add the whole layer of his sexuality and Khai (to this point) only seeming interested in dating women. And now that he has Two to confide to and encourage him, Third did try to push Khai to realize how he feels. He just wasn't quite ready to say it with his whole chest, because this friendship is important to him, too. And as we saw when he cried watching a film about a girl who was afraid to confess to her friend, he knows he has something to lose if Khai can't reciprocate. I don't think it's an accident that his confession in this episode was half-hearted and designed to emulate a famous confession scene where there was never any chance of success.

[rubysevens]

anyway in the past week the irish government has voted down two motions which would have condemned the genocide in gaza.

i need everyone to stop lionising ireland as if its not also a european government with strong ties to the us. american weapons pass through shannon airport and will continue to, because yesterday the motion to stop that was voted down 83 to 50.

other governments have done much more but somehow people still act as though ireland is the ultimate palestinian ally and exempt from criticism on its handling of palestine bc it was once colonised, even though that past experience clearly isnt being taken into account by the irish government when creating policy.

i live here i know there’s a lot of public support and sympathy for palestine, which is great, but that isnt reflected in government, and i think ireland should be treated like other countries whose governments have done nothing.