#gonna do a bit of a different take on it though

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

I'm happy that you liked the "angsty love triangle" because let me tell you, it took years off my life 😂

Oooh my God, poor Dean. 🫣 This is literally torture for him! lol

Yes it is. And I hated myself for putting him through that, but it had to be done lol.

I had a feeling this was why he insisted on her living in the room next to his, our big protective man, but now it's coming back to bite him in the ass. 💀

It really did. Man just wanted to be close to the reader, not hear her do the horizontal mambo with Ben next door 🤣

And the fanning gif is perfectly used. The Dean literally having a whole expirence thinking about laying on top of the reader 👀

Sobbbiiiiiingggg -- oh Dean. 😭😭

I put him through so much in this part- oh goodness, he kinda deserved it, but it was struggle bus the whole way. He loves the reader so much, and wants to be with her, but we all know he's so bad at expressing his feelings 😭

God Dean! You can only bury your emotions under assholery and anger for so long. He can hate the fact that she's a hunter and want more for her, but he has to accept that it's her choice, and he can support her and be honest with her rather than succumbing to his assholery. 🥲🥲 But of course, his "I'm not worthy" mentality crops up as well. 🙃 Makes you want to throttle him (if in more than one way lmao)!! The thought that he was suffering so much while trying to find her when she was in another world is also heartbreakingly on-brand for him. He'd so be tearing through every piece of lore and resource to try and get her back. 😭

EXACTLY! He hates this life for her, but it is her life. It's her choice to be a hunter and he has to accept that. Because on one hand I do see the side of him that wants to protect her, but he can't shut her up in a glass box. He has to let her live her life and be okay with it. And YES, he should not hide behind the "assholery" (lmao 🤣) instead he should be honest with her!

Oh yeah the "I'm not worthy" was really pulling overtime- It DOES make you want to beat some sense into him with an encyclopedia lol. But we both know how much he struggles with that and I had to include it in here 😭

I KNOW! It fits Dean though. I could see him having the same reaction to it as when Lisa and Ben got taken. Because he loves the reader and he thought that he 'lost' her. Dean would have been almost FERAL to get the reader back.

💀💀💀 Come on now, Dean, don't be petty. 🤣

Dean is so petty you could call him Tom. 😆

TELL HIM, SAM. SHAKE HIM UNTIL HIS GREEN EYES ROLL INTO HIS HEAD -- make him see how he's acting!! lol

LOL YES SLAP SOME SENSE INTO HIM!! USE THE BOOK! Continuing with the trope that Sam knows everything.

Gahhh pain. so very pain, even though it hurts so good. 😭😭😭

Told you... YEARS off my life lol

I also love the use of the office gif- and I really love the little bit that you highlighted about what it was like to kiss Dean vs. Ben. Because yes Dean can say that Ben "is him" but they really are two different men with different mannerisms. And I had this idea that Dean's kiss would be softer, but also more tentative whereas Ben has the confidence to take what he wants.

Omggg finally!! Finally Dean's being honest about how he feels without being a dick about it. 😪

Literally all it took was a slap and the thought that he was going to actually lose the reader to put him over the edge. It was so satisfying to finally give him a vulnerable moment with the reader, especially after all the shouting between the two of them. But I think that he realized that the only thing he had to lose was the reader and she is everything to him 😭

Ughhh such soul-rendering description, and the spice here is oh so delicious. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 But I have to point out that the reading is having a DAY loll. Two beefcakes in one night?? 😏 (Also, I'm afraid of how Ben is gonna take this. 😬)

Thank you!! They needed a few moments of spice to make up 😉 especially after everything the two of them have been going through lol. And really after everything Dean had to listen to through the wall 😳

And I KNOW lol. The reader is really living the life we all want 🥴👀

Ben will take it... like Ben... and also a little bit like Dean- pushing it all down 😒

Oh sure, pretend she meant nothing to you to spare your deep-down man feelings. 🙄

Mhmm. It is unfortunately on brand for him and he will not be the one to admit that he has feelings for someone else. Especially not after everything that happened with Countess. And I also think that Ben understands that this reader, isn't really "his."

That was the biggest decider in this fic when I was trying to figure out if the reader should end up with Ben or with Dean. And it really came down to that she's not from Ben's universe. She's a hunter and there are parts of her life that Ben won't be able to understand that Dean can. She might be able to understand Ben, but she needs Dean and Dean needs her.

LMAOO Ben vs. Technology -- I think we all know who's winning. 🤣 And Ben secretly liking therapy just so he just has someone to vent to for an hour? Be still my heart, honestly. 😭

It is the first fight that Ben has ever lost 🤣 And I literally was like, yes Ben would hate being forced to go to therapy, but he would love to sit there and just rant with someone who has to listen to him. Unfortunately, I think that Ben would also be the person who has an affair with their therapist LOL

OMGGGGG I'M WEEAAAAK -- and he's already clocking IT girl's cuteness, I'm dead. 😂💞 The way he's already starting to like her better? I see what you did there. 😉

He's already smitten! 😍 And I had to give him a happy ending too! I don't think I would have been able to live with myself if Ben got sent off without someone to love him 😭 I also know that we've talked in the past about Ben needing someone in his life that gives it right back to him and doesn't put up with any of his antics, but I am so intrigued by the thought of what kind of person Ben would be with a shy/anxious significant other. I love that idea and I'm literally adding it to my WIPs lol 💗

ahaha you charmer, you. 😂 A swoon-worthy line, even if we do know how sleazy this man can be lol. She really has no idea what she's getting into with this guy, but I love to imagine that with this nicely wrapped up ending! 💕💕

He's got a line for everything *sigh* and he knows just what to say. I hate to say that this would have worked on me 😅 She has NO idea, but I like to think that the two of them are very happy right now. Also kinda know because I am slowly plotting out ideas for follow ups with the IT Reader and Ben lol. But I'm so happy you loved it friend!! Thank you so much for all your kind comments!!!💞

Part 3: Why Is It A Big Deal?

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

POV: Dean POV, Reader POV, Soldier Boy/Ben 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: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST, Crossover

Word Count: 12.4K (I PROMISE I DIDN'T MEAN TO)

Listen While You Read: Treat You Better By Shawn Mendes

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing, Making Out, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Jealousy, A little homophobia (it’s Soldier Boy), Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester.

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's finally here! I have loved the return to this universe more than words can describe. Each of the POV's are crazy in their own way. And again, don't forget to read the fic "Stranded" by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this series in the first place! ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Dean POV

Dean leaned back on his bed at the bunker and jammed the pillow further down around his ears over his headphones. He was listening to a mixtape that he had burned forever ago, chosen because it had the loudest drum solos blaring through his Walkman. However, it wasn't enough to block out the sounds that were coming from your bedroom or the subtle knocking of your headboard against the metal wall between his and your room that grew louder and louder every passing minute.

Dean had tried his best to get Sam on his side when he proposed the idea that Ben didn't have to come back to the bunker and instead should be sent be sent back to wherever the hell he came from right then and there, but Cas was still out doing whatever it was he was doing, which meant that Ben was going to stick around for a little longer.

And it meant that Ben was finally getting his wish… you.

Dean's teeth gritted together when he heard another moan over the sound of the cymbals and felt a white hot spike of something in the pit of his stomach burn through his body.

When you'd agreed to move to the bunker Dean had insisted you live in the bedroom next to his. It meant that if there was a problem in the middle of the night, Dean would be the first to hear you scream and the first to protect you. But other than the time you stubbed your toe and Dean kicked down the door when he heard you yell with his gun drawn, there hadn't been an emergent situation that required his help.

Right now he was regretting the decision to have you live next door wholeheartedly, because it meant that he was having a front row seat to everything Ben and you were doing in your bedroom.

Dean sighed, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried not to imagine what was happening, but he kept having flashes skate across his mind. He didn't want to see what it looked like or sounded like to have Ben's name tumbling from your lips, all Dean wanted was to hear you say his name like that and to be the one making you fall apart beneath him.

Not some asshole from another universe.

The image of you laying under him back at the school came back to him in a wave, pushing away the revulsion momentarily. He remembered how soft you felt under him, how you clung to his body as if he was the only thing grounding you to earth, how natural it felt to be there protecting you, how you sighed when he pushed your hair back from your face, and how all the soft parts of you seemed to fit perfectly against all of the hardened muscles of him.

He hadn't even made love to you and you laying there on top of you felt more intimate than any experience he'd had in his life. Dean wanted to exist in that moment with you a little longer, to savor those last few seconds of you staring up at him as if he was the only person in the world.

The memory of Ben kissing you after followed. Dean remembered the way Ben's lips roughly took from you and the way he held on to your face and it snapped Dean out of it. It hurt him more that you let Ben kiss you after Dean had been the one to save you.

Fuck.

His teeth gritted hard together so tight that he heard them grind. He hated watching you with Ben, hated watching Ben do the one thing that Dean had wanted to do for years. And Dean also hated the way that Ben treated you, as if you were something to be possessed and showed off, as if you weren't smart or anything more than just beautiful.

Dean had known from the first moment he saw you in Ellen's bar years ago that you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his entire life. You were funny, kind, sarcastic, and had a hard edge that you'd developed after years of being a hunter, but there was something else, a softer side of you that you didn't let everyone see, something hidden beneath it all that you only allowed yourself to have whenever Sam was around, but never with Dean.

It made him hate his brother a little bit, seeing how effortlessly the two of you had developed a friendship, while Dean had to practically Heimlich you to talk to him.

Dean wanted to see that side of you so badly. He wanted you to smile at him the soft way you smiled at Sam, and wanted you to laugh at his jokes or tease him playfully about his hair or about what he was wearing that day the way he'd seen you with his brother.

He tried to find reasons to be in the same room as you, drifting to sit nearby while you read or watched a movie. You always seemed different then. Your body was relaxed, open, with just a hint of a smile curving on the edge of your lips that made Dean want to stare at you for the rest of his life.

He tried to make you laugh whenever he could and tried his best to impress you, but each time he did you'd only roll your eyes and make a sarcastic comment. You didn't like him, Dean knew that, but he wished you did.

Sure he was maybe a little harsh on you sometimes, but Dean didn't want anything to happen to you, he was trying to protect you, because he knew the moment he stopped caring so much would be the moment he lost you.

He'd lost so many things in his life and he knew that he couldn't lose you, not without losing a piece of himself.

He hadn't felt like this about anyone else ever, and he didn't know what to do with his feelings. Bottling them up only seemed to hurt him more, but whenever something happened on a hunt or you tried to split away from him and Sam, he panicked and said things that he shouldn't instead of the three little words that he'd been wanting to say to you for years.

That's what happened a few weeks ago on a hunt, when you went into a house alone and faced a poltergeist that threw you across the room and into a glass cabinet. Dean had stood there yelling at you trying to tell you how stupid it had been for you to go in alone, while biting back what he really wanted to say- that he couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you because looking at you was like watching the fireflies along a misty road at dusk, each one lighting a path in the darkness that showed him the way.

Yes he was angry, but all Dean saw was the bloody ripped sleeve of your shirt, and the way your face had contorted in pain when Sam picked you up and helped you back to the car. It made Dean feel like someone had ripped at his insides with a pickaxe seeing you hurt and listening to the whimper of pain that passed through your lips. He knew that he went too far when you broke his nose, but damnit, Dean just wanted you to be safe! And you never listened to what he told you because you were just so damn stubborn and always got on Dean's last nerve.

The truth was he hated that this was your life, hated that you were a hunter and each day you put yourself in danger, because he believed you deserved more. You deserved a normal life with someone who loved you, maybe a few kids, a dog, and a life far from the world that Dean and you knew so well.

Of course the thought of you with anyone else made Dean want to put his fist through a wall. The problem was even though Dean wanted you, he believed that you deserved better than him. You deserved the white picket fence and suburbia, not a darkened bunker underground with a man who wasn't sure he still had anything good left.

It was the reason why he didn't want to tell you how he felt, that, and Dean believed you absolutely hated him and hated being around him in the first place. It's why he buried it beneath the surface for so long.

However, when he was looking at you Dean often forgot the things that happened to him. You made him want to keep getting back up to fight if not for anyone else, for you.

But then Ben had shown up.

When you'd gotten dragged to another universe, Dean had tried everything in his power to get you back. He'd screamed and prayed for Cas so loud and so many times he went hoarse, he'd looked through almost every book he knew of to find the spell to bring you back to no avail, tried several rituals that promised results but gave him nothing, looked at his computer screen for so long that it made him cross-eyed, and drank coffee so strong it made his heart race.

But all Dean knew was that you were somewhere else alone, where he couldn't get to you or protect you, and it made him sick. He hated the thought of you alone trying to fight your way to survival in a place like the Endverse. When Cas finally came five days later and helped Dean bring you back, Dean had been so happy to see you that he'd almost hugged you, but instead he'd made an off-brand joke and you'd run into Sam's arms for a hug that made his chest tight.

Dean thought that he was having a nightmare when he saw Ben, a man who looked so much like himself, stride into the motel room confidently and kiss you. Dean was waiting for you to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you didn't, you liked it. And judging by the sounds Dean was hearing through the wall he could see that you wanted Ben.

All it did was piss Dean off that another version of himself got to have you and he didn't. Not when he'd known you longer and you'd only known Ben for five days.

Five fucking days. She's known that asshole for five days and she likes him. She's known you for years and she can't even stand to be in the same room with you.

The thought made Dean's heart clench in his chest. He didn't understand what Ben had that he didn’t have, he was him after all as Dean kept saying over and over to you. But Dean knew that deep down the real thing he was telling you over and over was not that Ben was him, but rather was asking the question: "why not me?"

Does she really hate me that much that she can't stand the thought of being with me? That she can stand to be with someone who looks exactly like me, but can't stay in a room with me for more than ten seconds?

Dean gets out of bed, stomps out the door, and down the hallway towards the library to try and escape the sounds coming from your room. They vibrate down the hall after him, like a flock of seagulls, mocking him all the way and doing little to ease the anger and jealousy swirling beneath his skin.

Sam is sitting in a chair with a large volume in front of him and a piece of notebook paper scribbling furiously when Dean enters the library, but he doesn't appear surprised to see his brother.

"That better be a way for use to get rid of the walking Trojan ad." Dean huffs, throwing himself into the chair across from his brother.

Please let them be using protection. The last thing I want is to be stuck here to raise super baby. I had enough problems with Jack.

Sam gives him a sympathetic look, and pushes his long hair back behind his ears. "Sorry. I'm researching a case in Kentucky, but Cas said that he'd be back in a few hours-"

"He said that ages ago! I want that asshole gone now." Dean's hand tightens on the arm of the chair, so tight that his knuckles are white.  He was happy that the library seemed to be far enough away from your room to escape the noise, but he knew it was happening, which didn’t help at all. "I don’t understand what she sees in that dick."

Sam hesitates for a moment, tapping his pen against the notebook paper.

"Just spit it out Sammy." Dean sighs.

"He might be an asshole to you, but not to her." He replies simply.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well you're kinda…" Sam shrugs and leans back into his chair trying to find the words.

"I'm kinda what?"

"You’re kinda a dick to her." He finishes. "She's getting fed up with it. The other day she told me that she's been thinking about moving out and going back on her own. I've been trying to talk her out of it-"

Dean's blood ran cold. He hated the thought of you leaving again, it meant that he wouldn't know where you were or if you were alive and he wouldn't be able to make sure you were prepared for a hunt or at least be there to have your back if something went wrong- because let's face it, something always went wrong. "What? What the hell are you taking about?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she hasn't made up her mind."

"But why?"

"Because ever since the first time we’ve been going on hunts with her, you’ve been rude and-"

Dean interrupts his brother with a shout. "What? Do you expect me to hold her fucking hand? We’ve seen experienced hunters get killed out there with one simple mistake! And she’s just some amateur-"

"Dean, she's not an amateur." Sam sighs as if he can't understand why Dean was being so difficult.

He was. Sam was used to it whenever the subject of you came up in front of Dean, but honestly his brother's stubborn attitude when it came to you was annoying him.

"She is!" Dean snaps back wishing that he had a beer.

"No, she’s not." Sam shakes his head. "She’s been doing this just as long as we have. You know who her mom was and you know that her mom was just as hard on her as our dad was on you-"

At the mention of their father, Dean can feel his jaw tighten, memories flashing across his mind that he wanted to forget. The cold feeling of disapproval begins to creep up his spine to his shoulders, but Dean shakes it off. "That doesn’t matter."

"I think it does."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, Dean you keep saying that he’s you, but I'm starting to think that she's you."

"You need to stop using all those hair products Sammy, they're messing with your head-" Dean scoffs.

"Just listen to me for a minute." Sam points at him with the pen. "She might be stubborn and sarcastic on the outside, but she's not callous or emotionless. She hides what she's feeling deep down, just like you do. And I think that she likes Ben because he doesn't hurt her and he makes her feel wanted."

But I do want her.

The thought rises before Dean could stop it and he wonders if you'd spent all these years thinking that he didn't want you around when it was all he thought about. Every decision he made was to try and protect you, to put you first, and the thought that you didn't see that hurt him.

"I'd never hurt her-" Dean's voice comes out a little softer and more broken than he meant it to, catching slightly on the words.

Sam shakes his head. "Not physically. But the two of you have been doing this for years and I think that she's sick of you treating her the way you do and then she met Ben. She met another version of you who appreciates her. I know that you’re a little jealous-"

"I am not jealous!" Dean says on instinct, but Sam knows the truth, he's always known the truth, and Dean knows it too.

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother. "You should talk to her. Take Ben out of it and talk to her the way you talk to other people."

"I talk to her like I talk to other people." Dean grumbles as he gets up out of his chair intent on going to the kitchen to get a beer or something stronger to take the edge off.

"No you don't. So go talk to her." Sam waves a hand in Dean's direction before his gaze drops back down to the book.

"She's kinda preoccupied." Dean mutters under his breath and the image of you and Ben tangled up in your bed makes him flinch.

Sam looks up at his brother again, sympathy flashing in his eyes. "Dean-"

"Just leave me alone Sammy."

And with that he turns and makes his way towards the kitchen, hoping that he won't be able to hear Ben and you, and wishing that you hadn't met Ben in the first place.

Reader POV

Ben mutters something in his sleep, rolling his body towards yours so close that his muscular right arm brushes against your bare shoulder. He was laying on his stomach, his face pressed into one of your many pillows, snoring softly, and taking up most of your bed.

It wasn't hard to. The full sized bed was hardly big enough for you, let alone two people, especially not someone as tall and broad as Ben. Which became more obvious when you noticed that Ben's feet were hanging off the end.

You sigh, laying on your back and staring up at the cracks in your ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You followed each one with your eyes, tracing the shapes they made like someone watching the clouds on a hill bathed in sunlight. You'd thought that after everything Ben and you did for the past two hours you'd be able to fall asleep as easily as he did, but you couldn't because your mind was awake and roaming everywhere it could.

It wasn't that you hadn't had a good time with Ben or hadn't wanted to have sex with him. Ben didn't force you into anything. You wanted to have sex with him. You had missed him and it had been a while for you, and you liked Ben. The problem was that now, after, there was an odd feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach, something that felt surprisingly like guilt.

I have nothing to be guilty about.

You chide yourself, hands curling and uncurling on the edge of the blanket the longer you stared up at the ceiling. But it was still there, bubbling up beneath the surface. Your mind kept slipping back into the memory of Dean and you in the broken auditorium.

Each time you closed your eyes you were back in Dean's arms, looking up at him while he pushed your hair out of your face and asked you if you were alright, his eyes filled with something that looked suspiciously like worry. He'd never acted gentle or caring like that before with you and you still felt odd from everything that happened.

Fuck. What is happening to me? I just spent the last two hours with Ben, I shouldn’t be thinking about anyone else but-

You sigh again and shut your eyes, but it just brings the image back to haunt you.

You hadn't had any thoughts like this about Dean, not ever, and you didn't know why now. You'd spent years thinking that he was a big jerk who hated you, but the Dean you saw earlier today was far from that.

In the past, Dean had your back a few times, but it hadn't been like earlier. He'd never held you close, covered you with his body as if he didn't care what happened to himself as long as you were safe, and he'd never brushed your hair away with such tenderness it made your heart flutter in your chest.

No. Dean has been a total dick from the moment I met him, he hates me, he-

The thought stutters to a stop when the hurt and jealousy in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben comes flashing back through your mind.

Does he? Or did I just interpret that wrong? Maybe it was just the hatred he had towards Ben flaring but… why does he hate Ben? He has no reason to.

But despite everything that Dean had done to you over the years, you didn't hate him.

Even though he tap danced on your last nerve whenever he opened his mouth and often made you feel stupid you couldn't, not when you saw the way he cared so much for other people. Dean Winchester was selfless, he always put other people first and was willing to sacrifice himself if it meant someone else got to be happy and got to live.

You glance at the man lying in the bed next to you. Ben was handsome and strong. He possessed some of the qualities of Dean that you found attractive, but he treated you differently. It was what drew you to him when you got trapped in Ben's reality, not just that he looked like Dean, but that Ben joked with you, teased you, and he seemed to generally care about you.

Dean didn't act that way with you. At least, you'd never seen Dean act that way before today. Today was different than any other day and you wished that it hadn't been.

Ben mutters something else, and this time he leans more towards you, his arm coming up around your waist to hold you against his side. The warmth and weight of it was familiar, but it made the feeling of guilt grow larger in your stomach.

Why is this happening? I didn’t feel guilty the last time I had sex with him.

Your eyes trace the way his dark hair has fallen into his face and over the pillow, and you reach up to push some of the strands back from his face. But with it comes the ghost of how you wanted to do the same thing to Dean earlier, that your fingertips had itched to feel his brownish golden hair in your hands.

Before he'd drifted off Ben had asked you to come with him when Cas sent him back to where he was from, said that he wanted you there with him. You had an inkling that it was the first time that Ben had asked something so serious from a woman. But you weren't convinced that it was because Ben wanted to have a relationship, rather that he didn't want to be alone.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't considering it. Ben was kinder to you, gentle (in his own way), and he seemed to appreciate having you around. But there was something holding you back.

At first you thought it was Sam. He was your best friend and you didn't want to abandon him, but there was another feeling, an ache deep down that you didn't know the cause of. Other than Sam there really wasn't anything in this universe that would hold you back from going with Ben, but obviously there was, you just couldn't figure out what.

Sure Ben's reality was fucked up… yours was too. Demons and Angels duking it out for supremacy while other creatures hid under beds and in the dark to kill people or worse wasn’t ideal either. But you weren't sure what your life could look like there. There wasn't anything to hunt which meant you'd probably be dealing with supes instead and the thought wasn’t appealing. You weren't sure that you belonged in his world.

Maybe I should have asked him to stay with me?

The thought made you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd been thinking about moving out of the bunker. Yes it was the only permanent home you'd ever known, but Dean was getting on your nerves and you thought that maybe you should get a little bit of distance from him. Moving out and Ben staying meant that he could come with you on hunts, but you weren't sure that was the solution either. Ben was strong and brave, but you weren't sure that he had the precision or the delicate side you needed when approaching a hunt to do well here.

It was these thoughts that were keeping you awake and you decide to get some water to clear them.

You slowly begin to slip out from under the covers, gently moving Ben's arm off of you as slowly as you can as to not wake him before you make your way to your dresser to find a clean pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. Ben sighs and shifts in the bed, the sheets pulling down just a little bit so you can admire the expanse of his freckled muscular back.

You'd seen Dean shirtless before once. He had come running out of his room with his gun drawn when you'd stubbed your toe on your bedside table and yelled. He hadn't put on a shirt before coming into your room, just aggressively kicked down the door wearing only a pair of hotdog pajama pants that you did mock him relentlessly for afterward. You didn't know why he'd looked so frantic when you yelled. It was just a toe after all. There wasn't anything for him to be worried about. Sam had showed up maybe ten minutes later rubbing the sleep from his eyes not worried at all.

But you'd remembered how Dean had looked shirtless. Sometimes the thought came flying into your mind at the most inopportune times, when Dean pissed you off and stuck his face so close to yours that you could feel his breath against your lips and the warmth of his skin through he air. The thought of him shirtless with his pajama pants hung so low on his hips that you could see every single hard defined muscle of his abdomen including the ones that made smart girls like you stupid.

You slipped on the clothes, but stop before you open the door to cast one more glance at Ben.

Although you knew that Ben and your relationship was more physical, there was a part of you that believed it could grow into something more if you went with him, something that you'd been wanting for a little while. Not just Ben specifically, but with someone.

Yes you were lonely, and Ben lessened the ache whenever he was around, but sometimes you wanted more than this and being a hunter didn’t help at all.

You never met anyone or tried to have a real relationship with anyone in a long time. The last permanent boyfriend you'd had wasn't a hunter, but someone you'd met in a bar after a hunt with Dean and Sam. It lasted Four months. Four months of you missing anniversaries, dates, and his birthday. He'd accused you of cheating on him with Sam and you'd found him in bed with his work partner when you'd tried to surprise him one weekend. You hadn't been surprised. Surprising was when the guy had tried to follow after you and both Dean and Sam had blocked his path and told him to "get lost." That was putting it nicely.

Sam had to hold Dean back from breaking the guy's arm when he shouted over the two of them at you that you "weren't worth the trouble." You didn’t understand why Dean was also just as pissed at the idea of the guy cheating on you as Sam.

You shake off the thought and tiptoe out of the room in the direction of the kitchen.

The bunker was silent, the metal floors cool beneath your bare feet as you walked down the desolate hallways. You glance at Dean's closed door for a moment as you pass and the feeling in the pit of your stomach tightens. A flash of the emotions on his face when you kissed Ben in the car and at the school flickers through your mind and you clench your jaw.

What the hell is wrong with me?

When you enter the kitchen you realize that you're not alone. Dean is leaning over the metal table his large hands braced on the top, his back to you, and his head bowed. A bottle of expensive whiskey sits on the counter in front of him next to a glass with the maple colored liquid inside. But the weird thing was that this wasn't the usual stuff Dean drank. This was the bottle that he had Sam hide from him for emergencies, the stuff that you'd only seen Dean drink when he was really upset and nothing else would cut it.

But what?

He turns when he hears you walk in.

You watch his eyes darken slightly as they skate over what you're wearing making your cheeks flush. You didn’t think he was still awake. If you had, you would have wore more than your favorite Metallica t-shirt that was worn soft from years of wear. Dean's gaze catches on the end of it where it hits mid-thigh, lingering a second too long, and makes something spark in your chest.

"Sorry. I was just getting some water." You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Romeo didn't get it for you?" Dean frowns as if the thought of Ben is an annoyance to him.

"No, he's asleep." You shake your head. "I thought you were asleep too-"

"Kinda hard to be sweetheart when the two of you are shooting a porno in the room next door to mine."

You feel your cheeks flush an even brighter pink. You didn't know that Ben and you were being that loud. The bed was a little squeaky, but you hadn't worried about the sound. The icky feeling in the pit of your stomach is back, the guilt rising in a wave the more you realize how much Dean heard.

Again? Why am I guilty? Ben and I had fun, he didn't force me to do anything. I wanted to have sex with him but-

"I'm sorry. I didn't know we were being that loud." You shake off the feeling and move around Dean to get a glass from one of the shelves.

"Guess he was making up for lost time huh? All those lonely months away from you fucking other women were hard I guess." Dean's words bite through the air and made your own temper flare up.

"He's not cheating on me. We weren't exclusive-"

"But you haven't been with anyone since you came back from his world."

Your hand freezes around the glass you reached for on the shelf. Why did he notice that? And why does he care?

The flicker of emotion in Dean's eyes when you kissed Ben in the auditorium comes roaring back, jealousy and hurt. It makes the guilt worse.

You let out a breath to calm the anger that wishes to bite back at Dean's comment. "Look, I know that you don't like him, but Ben isn't a bad person and even though it's not any of your business, we had fun."

You don't know why you felt the need to justify what you'd done with, but the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Standing here in front of Dean felt awkward, and it never had before. And it wasn't just because of what you were wearing, there was something else charging the air between the two of you. You were expecting a giant purple elephant to appear in the corner.

Dean chuckles, his eyes dark. "Did you now?"

"Yes." You reply, but you can't hold his gaze, not when he's looking at you like that.

Dean takes a long swig from the glass in front of him, his lips curling on the edges in a cruel smirk. This was the Dean you saw more often, the one that made you feel like a failure and a bother, but it was the first time that you longed to see the soft Dean who protected you from the fallen debris.

"I could hear just how much fun the two of you were having sweetheart." He continues. "But the man who isn’t a bad person toasted a woman that he slept with without batting an eye. Imagine what he'd do to you."

"A woman who was going to kill me." You say to defend Ben. "And he wouldn't hurt me."

Dean's eyes flick down to your thighs, his gaze hardening. "What do you call those?"

You glance down at the place where your shirt meets your thighs and notice the bruises. There were five on each leg and each was a perfect imprint of Ben's fingertips. They didn't hurt and you certainly hadn't felt or noticed them before Dean pointed them out.

But you knew that Ben would never hurt you. He wasn't like that.

Sure he killed that woman today, but she was crazy and she was trying to kill me and-

"He didn't it on purpose. He's stronger than us and sometimes-"

"Don't you dare make excuses for that asshole." Dean growls eyes flashing. "I don't care if he didn't do it on purpose, he still did it. He knows how strong he is and if he can't control himself he shouldn't be sleeping with you!"

"You're being ridiculous!" Ice clinks against the sides of your glass as you make your way back towards the sink.

"No, I'm not. And I want him gone!"

"Oh really?" You snark while placing the glass under the running water in the sink. "I had no idea. You've been so calm and collected since the moment Ben showed up."

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but instead huffs out a breath and pours himself another glass. The amber colored liquid splashes against the sides of the cup as Dean violently picks it up to take another drink.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the kitchen.

The water is cold, but you can't feel it when you take a sip, and you still can't quite look at Dean.

If he really is jealous, why can't he just come out and say it? Why is he being so stubborn and nitpicking someone else?

You sigh quietly to yourself and take another sip of water. The guilt was building again, prickling beneath your skin and bringing an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of your stomach the longer you stand there.

Why am I guilty? Dean being jealous has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him!

You think about going back to your room and being done with it, but you can't something is keeping you in that kitchen with Dean just as something is keeping him there with you.

"He-um-" You swallow. "He asked me to back with him to his universe." 

Dean's entire body tenses as he explodes. "What? Are you fucking kidding me!?"

"No I-"

"Are you seriously considering that?" He demands looking at you like you're crazy.

"Yes. I am." You answer him honestly. There's something hidden beneath the surface that makes you want to tell Dean this. You're not sure if it's morbid curiosity or if it's something else, something that you can't quite place, but you want Dean to tell you what he thinks.

"But why?! You've known that asshole for five days!" Dean snaps back, but you can hear something in his voice, almost as if he's holding himself back from saying something else.

Dean please just say it! Don't keep it in!

"He's not an asshole, he's just rough around the edges." You shrug continuing to make excuses for Ben and thinking about the bruises on your thighs.

"Oh please." Dean rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head you wonder how they didn't get stuck on his brain. "If I took a piece of tree bark and ran it along his arm, he'd make it smooth."

"But-"

"Sam told me that you were unhappy here, but I didn't think you would throw your entire life away to be with that asshole!"

His words make you hesitate for a moment in surprise.

Sam told him that I was thinking about leaving? Why did he tell Dean that?

"What life Dean?" You shout, throwing your arms out to gesture to the entire room. "I don't have anything here! I can't keep a relationship because I let people down. I don't know who my dad is because he walked out on my mom as soon as he found out she was pregnant. My mom died four years ago. I go to bed every night wishing for something else to happen but-" Frustrated tears were burning in your eyes now.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, but the urge to was overpowering everything else, the emotions you tried to keep down for so long beginning to curl and reform from the dark recessive parts of your mind where you buried them the night you met Dean Winchester.

"You deserve better than that asshole!" Dean shouts over you taking another step in your direction.

"Oh and what do you think I deserve Dean? Are you saying that I deserve someone like you?

Dean grits his teeth in frustration, anger blazing behind his eyes. "No I-" He finds his words. “I can’t believe you slept with him.”

"Oh good! That dinosaur. Falling back on something familiar, what a typical Dean Winchester move!" You gesture wildly with your hands sloshing water onto the floor. "I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it. We’re both consenting adults. He didn’t force me to do anything.”

You put down the cup to avoid throwing the glass at him.

“I just don’t see why you did it!” He towers over you, his body pulled taunt with his own anger and frustration.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping around with people like him!”

Is he out of his MIND?!

"Why not?" You demand, fists curling into balls at your sides because you know that it's not safe to put them anywhere else. The anger that was flaring in your chest was starting to rival how you felt the last time that Dean and you had an argument and you broke his nose. And it had just finished healing a few days ago.

"Because he treats you like a piece of meat!" Dean shouts it so loud you can hear the frying pans hanging in the kitchen clink together

"Do you even hear yourself? I have seen you in bars picking up women after a hunt-"

You had. Countless times. The bravado Dean had when the three of you were still floating on the adrenaline that was pumping through from a hunt you'd seen first hand in the bars where Sam and you sat at a one of the high top tables watching him weave through the crowds with the sound of classic rock blaring over the crackly speakers. You watched Dean find another woman for the night, saw how he tried his best lines and got what he wanted while you sat in the motel room next to his trying to read beside a sleeping Sam and avoid the noises coming from next door.

"This is different!" He fumes.

"How is it different Dean? I want to know!"

Is it different because he's jealous? Or did I just imagine that?

You didn't think that you did.

Dean's face is bright red with the force of his anger and you're sure yours must be too given how it feels like it's on fire.

"He's always touching you or kissing you, putting his fucking hands on you!" Dean's jaw is clenched tight.  "I've never heard him give you one compliment other than how you look-"

You laugh in his face, but it comes out crueler than you meant it to. "In contrast to how many compliments you give me? Because I don't think there's been any of those."

"I compliment you." He huffs back.

"Oh really?" You scoff. "When?"

Dean is quiet for a minute. His eyes drag over you again, but this time the sweep of them bring a heat vibrating against your skin and your throat gets tight. "I like your shirt."

"HA!" You shout triumphant holding up a finger. "That's looks based."

"You didn't let me finish!" He scrambles. "I like your shirt because I like that band too and you have okay taste in music."

"Oh wooowwww. I have "okay taste in music" let me just swoon right here." You wave your hand back and forth. "Fuck you. I have awesome taste in music!"

"That's not what I-"

"And who is it that should I be sleeping around with? You?!" You roll your eyes trying to take a step away from him, but he moves to intercept you.

His fists are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles are white. “I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

His green eyes darken as he stares down at you, the fluorescent lights above the two of you catching the familiar hard lines of his face. Even though Dean looked like Ben, he still looked like himself in his own way. The familiar crows feet that graced under his eyes, the subtle tilt of his head, the rough stubble that pebbled over his chin and cheeks, the soft freckles, and the green eyes that you always found on you. There was a small scar just barely visible on the bridge of his nose and a few flecked on the edges of his face that made him more handsome.

You'd noticed how handsome he was in the past, but never like this. You'd never looked at Dean as other than someone who annoyed you. And yes he was annoying you now, but there was something else that you could feel threatening to explode, something you buried deep down and refused to unearth.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth Dean, I’m trying to figure out why this is such a big deal to you!”

Why is it a big deal?

“It just is!"

"Why? Because you're jealous?!" You hadn't meant to say it, but Dean's body goes taunt again.

"I am not jealous. I just don’t want you sleeping with him!”

“I think you are! And you’re not my dad Dean. You don’t get to decide who I sleep with!” You'd had enough of hearing him yell at you, of hearing him bitch about something that wasn't any of his business.

Who does he think he is? We're not together.

“That’s not what this is about-“

“Then what is it about Dean?! Why are you so hung up on something that is none of your business?!”

"It is my business!"

"How? How is it your business? Because you think that Ben is you somehow?"

"He is me!" Dean roars again and you wished he would stop saying it, because it was snagging on something in your chest.

A lie that you told yourself when you first started sleeping with Ben. You knew it. That you liked Ben because he looked like Dean and he appreciated you, that he didn't make you feel stupid, or ugly or not worth his time.

"No, he's not!" You shout back shaking off the feelings for what you hope is the final time. “Why do you care so much about this?!”

“Because I-“ Dean shouts, eyes narrowed at you. “Because I just do!”

“WHY?” You poke your finger into his chest. “I don’t care who you think you are. You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot sleep with!"

“I’m not trying to!”

“Yes you are! And I am so sick of your bullshit Winchester. This is none of your business. None of this is. It's my life! So why don't you just take your unneeded opinion and-"

The rest of your sentence evaporates into thin air as Dean grabs your shoulders so tight you're sure they're be bruises and pulls you in for a searing kiss.

Your body is frozen in shock, the warmth of his lips against yours holding a softness that you'd never known.

Everything about this kiss is different than the ones you'd share with Ben. You knew better than to compare them, but Ben kissed like he meant to devour you. He wasn't hesitant or afraid to take what he wanted when he kissed you, but Dean?

Dean kissed like he wanted you to understand and that he wished to understand himself. Dean's kiss was passionate, filled with enough emotion that it left you breathless. Ben was never afraid to take what he wanted but Dean, he was almost asking, trying to let you understand, and trying to listen to what you wanted.

But just as he deepens the kiss you push him away and slap him across the face. The sharp sound rings through the kitchen and for a moment all you can do is stare at him shocked while the red mark on his face forms.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean shouts, but the emotion in his eyes wasn't anger, it was hurt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" You shout back still out of breath. The ghost of his lips presses against yours and the taste of the whiskey remains on the tip of your tongue.

"I thought that-" He clears his throat, eyes widening.

"Thought what?"

"That you wanted me to-"

"To what? Kiss me?" The frustration was building again, because yes it had felt good to kiss him, but you hated that he was doing this now. That after years of him hating you, now when you had the possibility of being happy Dean was making this harder for you.

"Well-"

"No." You poke your finger into his chest, and this time you can't hold back the tears. They slip from your eyes, hot against your skin, as you feel every emotion that you'd kept bottled up beginning to surge up in a wave. "You don't get to do this Dean. Not now. Not after years of you treating me like shit."

Dean sighs and reaches for you, but you pull back from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes again and you can feel your own in the center of your chest. "I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. Damn it Dean, I'm not some shiny toy the two of you can fight over."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

"Then why now?" You ask in a half sob.

Dean pauses. "What?"

"Why after years of you hating me-"

"I never hated you." Dean's voice is more of a whisper than anything else.

"Oh bullshit. Yes you do!" You raise your hand to scrub at your cheeks, the tears falling quicker now.

It was the first time that you'd allowed yourself to cry in front of him, and you were fighting the urge to run back to your room. Ben was still there and you didn't know how the hell you were going to explain to you why you were crying.

"Will you just shut your damn mouth for five seconds and let me talk!?" He snaps running his hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to break your nose again if you do!"

"You need to because I'm trying to explain-"

"Explain what? Explain that you've completely lost your mind? Explain that all the years of you undermining me, making me feel like a burden, teasing me, yelling at me, making me feel like I was stupid, and driving me absolutely insane, has just been you trying to say that you love me?!"

You hadn't meant to shout that at him. Hadn't meant to say the word love, but now it was there hovering in the air between the two of you. Dean's eyes are locked with yours and you don't think he's taken a breath since you spoke.

Because love was a little word, only four letters, but why did it always seem so heavy? How could one word have the same weight as a loaded gun? How could something so small cause so much pain and so much hurt?

"Yes." Dean looks down at the ground, not able to meet your eyes. He looks ashamed and you can't find the words to fill the silence.

Because Dean Winchester was in love with you. The man who you'd always thought hated you, who you thought wished that you were never around, and who you thought believed you to be an annoyance.

Holy shit.

"I-" He swallows. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how much I hurt you. All I wanted was for you to be safe and to talk to me the way you talk to Sam." His voice is quiet, just a soft rumble, but you can hear a tremor on the edge of his words. "I didn't mean to make you hate me."

The words strike you right in the center of your chest and it shocks you so much that you stop crying. You'd seen different sides of Dean before. Seen him angry, happy, annoyed, frustrated, sad… but Dean Winchester had never looked broken around you, not like this, and certainly not over you. Whenever something went wrong Dean would isolate himself from you in his room with a bottle of something to numb the pain. It made you feel like someone was gutting out your insides with a pitchfork.

The silence grows between the two of you again, and his head is still bowed and looking down at the floor in shame.

You exhale softly, controlled by something that you're not sure, and reach out towards Dean's face.

He flinches back from you, eyes rimmed red, looking at you suspiciously as if he believes you're going to break his nose. In hindsight, you supposed it was a reasonable fear to have since you'd done it in the past.

"What are you doing?" He asks, voice cracking. Dean's green eyes have dimmed, looking more like an aged jade pot that's sat outside in the sun for too long.

"Please shut up." You sniffle, the end of your mouth twitching into a smile, before you place your hands on the sides of Dean's face and pull him down to you.

The kiss is quick, only a brush of your lips against his to give yourself a taste and when it's done you pull back letting your hands fall to your sides. You're not sure why you did that. Maybe it's because Dean admitted to loving you and he looks like a lost puppy, but-

Dean steps forward into the space, his hands reaching towards your face, and you flinch.

“What are you-“

“Please shut up.” Dean murmurs, echoing the words you'd whispered to him moments ago.

His hands are rough and warm against your cheeks. Worn from years of carrying a gun in his hand and hard work he never shied away from. But they’re nothing but gentle against your skin as he pulls your face to his.

You could be standing on the surface of the sun and not feel as hot as you do now. A volcano could erupt and bathe you in lava and you would just scoff at it like it was a normal day, because kissing Dean feels infinite. It's all consuming. The scrub of his five o'clock shadow against your cheeks, the slide of his hands down your arms that bring goosebumps in their wake, the smell of his shampoo that you always catch when you walk into the bathroom, the nudge of his nose into your cheek, and the soft supple welcome of his lips that draw the breath from your lungs all take you somewhere otherworldly.

You couldn't stop. It was a compulsion, like magnets, like it was something you wanted to do for so long but buried it deep down to avoid the inevitable. Fueled by the belief that Dean would push you away, because Dean Winchester hated you.

But he didn't, he never did.  And in the kiss is something else, years of emotions the two of you pushed down, years of being frenemies of almost losing each other, years of ignoring what was developing between the two of you, and years of watching the other fall for the wrong person.

Dean moans softly into your mouth and picks you up, his muscular arms fitting under your legs to place you on the counter, not pulling away at all and stepping into the space between them to fit himself closer to you. Your hands come to the back of his head, tangling in the short strands at the nape of his neck, shuffling your nails through his hair in a way that makes Dean shudder and pull you tighter to his chest.

Dean pulls back from you out of breath, but rests his forehead against yours, as if any further is too far from you and he doesn't wish to ever let you go.

"I don't hate you Dean." You whisper before he can say anything. "I can't. And I was only with Ben because I thought that this could never happen because you hated me-"

Dean's lips fall against yours taking your next words with it. "I don't hate you. I never did."

"Then why?"

He sighs. "I hated that you were a hunter, that this was your life, that you'd been doing this for so long with no one helping you."

"I'm okay."

"I know that, but I-" Dean hesitates. "I shouldn't have done what I did, but I didn't think that you'd want this-"

"This?"

"Me." Dean closes his eyes leaning further against you, almost as if he can’t hold himself up.

"Why?" Your grip on the back of his neck tightens.

"Because I'm-" He tries to find the word. "I'm not perfect. I'm a jealous asshole. I've done terrible things, made you cry.” He sighs. “You deserve better."

You kiss him softly. "There is no one better. I'm not looking for perfect, I'm looking for human. There's nothing wrong with making a mistake and being imperfect. The imperfections are what make you, you." Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Dean, you're not a bad person. You are the most selfless man I have ever met. And maybe you've messed up a few times, but I have too. Do you think I'm a bad person for the things I've done?"

There was a list of them that seemed to grow longer each day and it was difficult not to dwell on the things of the past. But standing here with Dean, watching the weight settle on his shoulders, while he told you that he didn't think he was enough for you made you throw it all away.

"No.”

“Do you think that I’m not deserving of love?”

“No. But-"

 You shush him. "Then don’t talk that way about the man I love."

Dean's eyes widen, but you watch the end of his lips twitch into a smile. "You love me?"

"Yeah." You whisper. "I think I always have, but I was afraid because you were-"

His mouth falls over yours so fast you don’t have time to finish the thought. "I love you too."

Your heart flutters in your chest with his words.

"Kinda hard not to." His thumbs stroke along your hip bone over the soft t-shirt sending electricity dancing along your spine.

You smirk. "You're right. I am pretty great."

"I think the word you're looking for is high maintenance." Dean smirks back at you.

"Aww… That means I'm out of your league and you're lucky to have me in your life." You giggle with a smile.

"I am." He murmurs, nudging his nose forward into yours moving in for another kiss.

Someone clears their throat from the other side of the room drawing your eye. Ben is leaning against the doorway dressed in his suit, watching where you're wrapped up in Dean's arms.

Any warm feelings you were having standing there with Dean immediately evaporate and the guilt comes roaring back. You'd forgotten that Ben was still here and you felt bad for him. You didn't want him to think that you used him.

"Ben I-" You begin to stutter, but he only shakes his head at you.

"You don't gotta explain anything doll, I know what this was." Ben smirks, but you see something flicker in his gaze for just a second before its gone.  "And I'm man enough to admit when I'm beat. Even if I don't like it."

"But-" You try to say again.

Oh this is so awkward.

"Don't do me any favors sweetheart, we had fun." Ben shrugs. "That's all this was."

Cas walks into the room with Sam at his heels, who looks much too smug when he spies where Dean has you on the counter. You push Dean back and stand up, while Dean shoots daggers with his gaze leveled at Sam.

Sam isn't phased, but chooses not to say anything.

Ben rolls himself off the doorway and walks confidently to where Dean and you are standing, extending his hand towards Dean. "You take care of her." Ben's eyes flick to you for a second before focusing more on Dean. "She's special."

The hand of guilt on your throat tightens just a little more, because somewhere you wondered if Ben really was as aloof as he seemed or if he had started to care about you a little more than he let on.

"I will." Dean's smile is forced, and you see him squeeze Ben's hand a little tighter as he does.  It only makes Ben smirk wider.

Cas begins to write the symbol on the floor taking care with each intricate detail to open the portal, but you stop him at the last minute.

"Wait." You take a step forward and hug Ben tightly. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me for fucking you?" Ben snorts throwing a smug look in Dean's direction that makes Dean bristle. "Guess I am a gift."

"Shut up." Your cheeks blaze bright red and you hear Dean growl something under his breath. "No, just thank you. For being here."

Ben hesitates. He raises his hand to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin before he brushes away some of your hair. It was a gentle gesture from him, one that you weren't accustomed to. The emotion in his eyes shifts to something else, but he hides it with a smirk. "You're welcome sweetheart."

"Maybe you'll meet the me from your reality." You say, because you're not sure what else you can say, not when Ben is looking at you like that.

The entire situation was again reaching soap opera proportions and there was only so much you could take before you drove your car off a cliff.

The truth was, you did like Ben. You thought he was attractive, bold, strong, but there was always something a little gentle that lurked under the surface he never let anyone else see.

But you loved Dean. He understood what it was like to be a hunter, understood what it was like to not be able to live up to someone's expectations, and he loved you. You couldn't see a life with Ben, but you could see one with Dean. Ben didn't belong in your world and you didn't belong in his.

Ben's smirk twitches. "Maybe. But she won't be the same as you doll."

Dean clears his throat and steps forward to pull you back into his chest possessively. "I think your ride's leaving." You don't have to look up into his face to know he's frowning.

Ben chuckles. "You know what kid? You're alright." His eyes flick back to yours. "You give me a call if you get bored with him."

"She won't." Dean snaps. “And don’t call me kid.”

Ben only laughs at him and steps closer to Cas as he begins to finish the ritual and when the portal finally opens, Ben goes through without looking back.

And you don’t feel guilty anymore, because you knew that Ben understood.

"Finally." Dean breathes a sigh of relief that makes you snort, dropping his head to your shoulder. It was so casual that you had to remind yourself that Dean loved you and you loved him.

Sam clears his throat. "Hey Cas will you help me with something in the library-"

"What do you have to do in the library?" Cas frowns at him confused.

"Just something come on-"

"But why-"

"CAS!" Sam shouts casting an obvious look in the direction of where Dean and you are standing.

Cas looks at the two of you. "Are they coming with us to the library?"

Sam huffs out a frustrated breath and grabs Cas by the back of his trench coat to drag him out of the kitchen so Dean and you can have a few moments alone.

You snort at the confused look on Cas's face when Sam drags him out, before you turn your body in his arms to look up into Dean's handsome face. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to be jealous of yourself?"

"I thought he wasn't me?" Dean smirks, his eyebrow arching with his tease. His fingers are resting resolutely on your hips, thumbs softly trailing in circles.

"He is a little bit." You admit defeated. "But don't look so smug Winchester."

"I think I'm allowed to be a little bit." His smirk grows and he leans his face down to yours. Instead of feeling angry at the appearance of his smirk it only makes you smile.

Standing here in the aftermath made you see Dean in a different light, made your heart buckle and jump in your chest the longer you stood there in the kitchen basking in the warmth that began to bloom in your chest.

"Maybe…" You gently touch the front of his buffalo print flannel, smoothing the fabric beneath your fingertips. It looked good on him, very little looked bad on Dean.

"Do you regret staying with me?" He mutters.

"What?" You glance back up to see his face and notice that he's not smiling, he's frowning at you, and his eyes aren't as bright.

Dean clears his throat. "Well you seemed like you were really going to miss him and-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him back down to you, putting you everything you have into the kiss, hoping that Dean can feel how you have no regrets staying with him, that all you want is him.

"Dean Winchester." You breathe, moving your hands to cup his cheeks so he can't look away from you. "I do not regret staying with you, because I love you." You pull him as close to you as you can, his warm hands splayed over your back. "This is where I belong." You kiss him on the tip of his nose. "And this is where you belong. With me."

Dean's eyes warm the longer you hold his gaze. "I'm starting to believe you."

"Anything that I can do to convince you?"

"I can think of a few things…"

Ben/Soldier Boy POV

"Stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Ben growled at the computer monitor in front of him that had a bright red ERROR message splayed across it.

It had been two days since he'd left your reality, and he was trying his best to shove away the disappointment at the fact that you hadn't decided to come back with him. It wasn't that Ben wanted more than what the two of you had, it was that he liked having someone to talk to or try to talk to, and you were a good listener.

He didn’t like opening up to people, but there was something about you. He could trust you and Ben hadn't found anyone he could trust since he got back from Russia.

Ben also wasn't about to admit that he was lonely, he had plenty of women who were eager to warm his bed, but there was something about you that always made him feel different. He wasn't sure what that was exactly.

He'd also be lying if he said that he had wanted to explore it a little more if you'd come with him to his reality. The thought of you staying with him for an extended period of time in his apartment hadn't been unwelcome. Ben had never allowed other women to stay more than a day, but you… Ben would have let you stay as long as you wanted to.

Fuck.

He knew that he wasn't in love with you, but Ben knew he liked having you around. He liked being friends with you and he liked fucking you.

And yes he was disappointed that you had chosen Dean instead of him, but at the same time Ben didn't blame you. You had a history with Dean and when you'd been forced into Ben's reality, you'd talked to him a lot about Dean. Ben knew that you liked Dean more than you cared to admit.

But there was still an unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that Ben wasn't accustomed to.

Ben huffed out a breath to push away the thoughts, while looking at what was left of the keyboard on his desk. The keys were scattered across the wooden top like bits of confetti, broken easily underneath his large fingertips when he'd tried to write an email

When he'd come back from Russia, Ben had taken a job working for the Department of Supe Affairs, but he was "grounded" due to the "anger issues" that he swore he didn't have, and because he didn't listen to Butcher whenever he gave him an order.

I don't need to follow orders. I'm Soldier Boy! I should be giving the orders!

Basically it meant that he was stuck on a desk indefinitely until Annie January, the new department head, released him. She'd also ordered that Ben go to company mandated therapy sessions once a week. He'd refused to go, but after Annie threatened him with termination of his contract, which meant that Ben would have gone back to being someone who "looked like someone who used to be famous," he'd gone to therapy.

And he refuses to admit this to anyone… but he liked it. Someone who was paid to listen to him bitch for a whole hour about whatever pissed him off and actually kept their trap shut was just what he needed.

Sometimes it reminded him of when he would talk to you, but there were still things that he refused to tell anyone and some of those things he had told you.

Ben ran his hand through his hair frustrated at his predicament. He would have liked to go into the field and take out some of his frustration on another supe, but Annie refused to give.

Ben didn't like listening to women, but even he had to admit Annie had a set of brass balls and he respected her for it. She didn’t take shit from anyone and especially didn't listen to Ben's bitching over why he should be in the field instead of being chained to a desk.

"Oi you all right mate?" Butcher calls and Ben can hear the shit eating grin without looking up from his computer screen.

The error message was still displayed in bright red letters, mocking him.

Ben knows that Butcher doesn't give a shit, and is probably about to start teasing him about his inability to adapt to modern day technology.

It wouldn't be the first time.

"Don't you have something better to do? Like fucking that little bitch that Annie is ploughing?" Ben spits back, clicking on the mouse but all it does is bring up another error message in another language.

"Oh mon ami, that doesn't look good." Frenchie walks by to stare at the computer screen that has now gone slightly fuzzy.

"I don’t think that's going to fix it mate." Butcher laughs. " But I called IT."

"I don’t need any of those four-eyed fucks helping me!" Ben snaps turning to narrow his eyes at Butcher.

He's holding a white cup of tea, wearing his usual long trench coat and Hawaiian shirt, with the shit eating grin that Ben knew Butcher was going to have when he looked up.

The last thing Ben needed was some nerd telling him everything that he did wrong. He was already on a first name basis with the director of the IT department, who was a little weasel of a man and who no longer picked up the phone when Ben called to yell at him.

"I think you're gonna want to listen to this particular four eyed fuck. She's new." Butcher gloats. "But don’t say I never did anything for you Soldier Boy."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben shouts at Butcher's back, but he's already gone.

Ben turns back to the error message that has begun to flash an even brighter red and now has a countdown.

"Fuck, fuck fuck-" Ben growled and to remedy the situation he puts his fist through the computer screen. It makes a high pitched electrical popping sound, showering his desk in sparks, while the overhead lights flicker, before the screen goes completely black.

Ben was not stupid, but he was a little slow when it came to modern day technology. He was doing better than he had initially, but it was taking him a longer time to understand using his desktop computer at work than his cell phone.

"Hi, I'm from IT. Mr. Butcher called and said that you might need a little help." The voice was small and tentative, coming from somewhere on Ben's left.

"I don't need any help. Especially not from a fucking four-" Ben started to growl, but then he looked up and the words died in his throat.

Because the person standing next to his desk was you.

This version of you looked different. Ben was used to seeing someone in old band t-shirts, worn blue jeans, and flannel shirts, someone who carried themselves confidently and had a hardness surrounding their outer exterior that simply said "don't fuck with me."

But this version of you was softer and a little gentle. Your hair was longer and pushed back from your face by a simple black headband, you were wearing dark framed glasses, an oversized cardigan sweater that covered a simple pair of blue jeans, a striped blouse, and a pair of dark blue converse. The converse made Ben smile. He hadn't seen anyone wearing Chuck Taylors in a little while and it was a welcome sight, something from the past that he actually recognized.

The version of you Ben knew from Dean's universe flashed through Ben's mind again. She was more confident and outgoing, but you looked a little shy, hiding back in the cardigan and using the iPad in your hands as a welcome distraction to looking Ben in the eyes and like a shield.

He thought it was cute.

As much as Ben liked the version of you he knew who didn't shy away from anything, Ben found himself smiling at this one. You were definitely more soft spoken and a little less confident, but Ben could see a sweetness and sincerity in your eyes that he hadn't come across since he came back to the US.

It was the thing that always made him trust the other version of you, the part of him that made him want to tell the other version of you things that he hadn't told other people.

"I'm sorry." You say, even though you have nothing to be sorry about. "I-"

"No. I'm sorry." Ben clears his throat awkwardly and for the first time in a long time he feels nervous. He wasn't sure why that was, not to mention he never apologized to anyone, ever, but he didn't want to scare you away.

"It's okay." You give him a soft smile. "Computers can be frustrating, but sometimes it’s better not to put your fist through the screen."

Ben chuckles. "Probably not my best work."

You shake your head, a wider smile on your face, the motion of it sending the smell of your perfume over him, something floral and a little old fashioned. You look at the remnants of the computer and bite the inside of your cheek deep in thought.

Ben found himself tracing the furrow of your brows and the scrunch of your nose. You were beautiful in every reality to him.

"Well, Mr. Soldier Boy I don't think-"

"Please call me Ben." He interrupts.

Ben wondered if you were this shy all the time and if you'd be just as shy if he took you to bed. He wanted to find out.

Ben had slept with many women in his lifetime and he was usually drawn to women who were more confident and outgoing, sure of themselves, but there was something about your shy attitude that Ben found attractive.

"Ben." You say it in the soft voice of yours, cheeks flushed a little bit as if you're embarrassed to say it. "I don't think that there's anything I can do for this." Your hand waves over the computer. "But I can go talk to my boss and tell him you need another one."

"I'll go with you." Ben stood up.

He didn’t want to let you out of his sight, not when a part of him worried that you weren’t really there or you would evaporate into nothing before his very eyes.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to-" You stammer, shaking your head, and not quite looking at him as if making eye contact was a little harder for you.

"I want to." Ben smiles at you. He hears your heart beat quicken and can hear the small intake of breath you have when he smiles. "He's an asshole and I don't want him to chew you out for something I did." Ben explains.

It was partly true. The guy was an asshole. Not to mention, Butcher had said it was your first day and Ben wasn’t going to stand by and have the head of the IT department screaming at you when you had done nothing wrong.

"Oh." You clear your throat, cheeks blushing that cute pink color that makes Ben smile wider. "Well if you'll just follow me."

He hadn’t met someone like you in a long time. And even though he liked the other version of you, Ben was starting to like this one more.

"To the ends of the Earth doll." Ben winks and watches the flush of your cheeks deepen to a crimson and hears the way your heart buckles and jumps when he does.

And the longer he stands there watching you blush, Ben begins to feel an odd feeling flicker in the pit of his stomach racing up into his chest that he’d never felt before and for the first time in a long time Ben was curious to see where it could lead.

A/N: Alright we made it to the end and everyone got a happy ending! Thank you again everyone for all the love and support while I was writing this mini-series 💗

Reveal of the Poll:

🥫: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in a grocery store.

💻: Meeting the reader from Ben's Universe in the IT department.

Personally I liked the IT more, and the problem is now I really like the shy reader with Ben. They are so cute and now I'm hyperfixated on Ben with a shy reader so we'll see where that goes 🤣

Thank you so much for reading! As always likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, but are not required. I love hearing what y'all think!

Taglist For It's Not A Big Deal:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

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

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz

@impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah @lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed

@justwhisperingfantasies @lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99

@chriszgirl92

@toxicfataldestiny @im-bili @anniebannanie0315 @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @schinug

@shara-ne @gaida-511 @xxmusic13luverxx @bakugotypecrashout @n-o-p-e-never

@thoughtfullyfurryangel @youroldfashioned

@marvelgeeka @myceliumsunshine @hobby27

@funkenniffler

[plutosillywrites]

imagine plus size!reader going to the bar for a date— just to get to stood up.. but that’s okay, 141 is there for their night out, and could never say no to a pretty bird like you.

(i hope u like this nonsense :3)

you’ve never had much luck with dating, which you think for the most part you’re okay with, sometimes it just doesn’t work out when you think it will— but it does sting when all of your friends are snatched up and engaged or dating.

it leaves you asking if there’s something wrong with you— which you know is not true, but when you are so crushingly rejected every single time, you get sick of it.

and tonight, god you hope it’s different. you had been chatting up some pretty guy, and he was nice— attentive even, and you aren’t ugly by any means.your curves are to die for, the way your tummy is seen in dresses, and how your thighs and ass look in some good jeans— maybe you have a few more fat rolls than the average person, and your body held a plump look. but you looked damn fine with it too..

the cellulite— the hair, the skin. practically flawless, and as you slipped on your black dress with pearl accessories, and a beautiful vintage black bag. you were ready to go—

you slip your heels on, grab your keys and you’re out the door. locking your apartment door behind you (god forbid you forget again like that one time. you’ll always miss your good mixer that the thief stole.)

the walk there is quite nice, your date having asked you to meet up at a jazz club nearby, which was only a 10 minute walk.

you walk towards the front door of the place, bright LED letters adorned the top of the building. ‘THE JAZZ ROOM.’ it’s a nice, quaint place.

as you step inside the sound of the sax and sweet singing voice draws you in, you smile at the song being sung— and make way towards the bar, waiting patiently for your date.

what you don’t see however, is how 4 men sat back in their seats to get a better look at you as you walked in. johnny is the first to say something— “Fucking gorgeous ain’t she.” — the others hum in agreement.

you twiddle your thumbs, sipping on a fruity cocktail because— of course you can’t shoot whiskey, it’s been 25 minutes since you got here— you even showed up 5 minutes late.

you laugh, but not one filled with joy, one filled with disbelief. “i think im just gonna delete tinder. it doesn’t work— stupid apps never do.” youre mumbling as youre finishing off your drink, and fanning down the bartender.

johnny claps his hands, and goes to stand. “i think pretty bonnie over ‘er got stood up. blokes missing out— it’s alright though, i’ll go and swoop her up.” he shuffles out of the booth, the others make no move to disagree but simon chimes in by saying, “you better tell ‘er how fucking gorgeous she looks tonigh’. “

johnny then makes his way towards the empty seat beside you. the 3 men sit and watch— they trust johnny to woo you over, he’s just too good with words.

you ask the bartender for another cocktail, and as you go to take a sip you hear a gruff scottish voice from beside you. “what’s a pretty bonnie like you doing here alone?” you turn, and wow.

the man has a mohawk, and the most stunning blue eyes you have ever seen. he’s got a smile that has a warmth churning up inside— why is he staring at you like your the only girl in the world? and why does it feel so good??

“oh— uhm,, haha..” you trail off, “it’s a funny story, really.” you fiddle with the fruit on a toothpick in your drink, “i’m supposed to be on a date, but uhm.. he didn’t end up showing.” you grimace a bit, taking a large sip.

“well, he’s a bloody idiot.” the man says, he leans closer, resting his head on his hand. “my names johnny, you wouldn’t mind if i took his spot as your date, would’ya?”

a handsome, muscular man with a hot accent asking to be YOUR date? yeah, you’re not saying no to that! you smile, laughing so quiet johnny almost didn’t catch it under the music.

“no, i wouldn’t.. i’d prefer if you did.” you scoot your barstool closer, and tell him your name, your hand resting on the table dangerously close to his.

“you look stunning tonight, love.” he breathes out, he intertwines his fingers with yours, “fucking breathtaking— had my eyes glued to you since you walked in ‘ere.”

you look at him quickly, he’d watched you since you walked in? “you like what you saw that much?” you questioned with a frown, and his smile only grew. “fuck yes, and not just me—“ he leans you can see the rest of the group.

their eyes are hungry; with something else mixed in, and you can’t quite tell if its passion or lust. “—my whole team thinks you’re the prettiest girl in this whole place.”

your body goes slack just slightly, before letting a smile creep onto your face, resting your hand on johnny’s knee you leaned close to his ear.. “well, it’s rude to keep people waiting.. isn’t it?” you whispered.

“you’re right as rain, bonnie. why don’t we join them?” johnny mumbles back, already standing and tugging you near their table, his hand wrapped around your waist…

pt 2!! https://www.tumblr.com/plutosillywrites/775073803823890432/part-2-of-plus-sized-reader-who-gets-swooped-up

(an: johnny i love you. i love you and you just don’t know it.)

[suzukiblu]

hi, question for you, have you ever experienced prolonged writer’s block before? do you happen to have any advice for getting a writing flow going again, that you’d be willing to share?

bc i don’t want to get too heavy in your asks, but between chronic illness/fatigue and longterm autistic burnout i haven’t been able to write a single word in several years now, and GOD am i tired of it. it’s like all the stories and words are stuck inside me and i can see it all in my head but the faucet is jammed and i just can’t get it OUT! i have been slowly feeling like the creative embers are maybe starting to spark again but it’s so hard not to get impatient with myself because it never seems to actually transfer to paper (or word document or notes app). any ideas or tips?

no pressure to answer this if you don’t want to of course, regardless i really enjoy your writing and i’m so glad that i can at least engage with fandom through other authors even when i can’t write my own stories! 💛

Oh god, yeah, I DEFINITELY have experienced that, hahasob. I have gone through at LEAST a year or two without, like, putting down a single word or even drawing anything, just total creative block/not there-ness. Like I feel u on that one, bud.

Good news: now if I write less than 2k in a day I think "oh that's kinda low, huh", so like . . . definitely "didn't write jack shit for [ INSERT TIME PERIOD HERE ]" has yet to sink me, and therefore fuck if it's gonna sink ANY of us. We persevere!!

So like, in my experience actually helpful writing advice is just SO wildly "you just gotta try shit 'til something works"-based that I'mma just give you a list made up of a bunch of, like, assorted tips and tricks that I use on myself to make my brain put words down when it's being stubborn about it, though different ones work at different times and obvi YMMV here anyway because for obvious reasons these are all approaches that I have tailored to my own needs, hah, and some of them are a bit facetious and some are also a bit heavy, but absolutely and unironically I reguarly use them all and they have all repeatedly worked for me.

Also, they're all gonna be goin' behind a cut because WOW there's actually a lot more of them than I realized I had, hahaha. The psychiatrist who recently used me as a case study told me I was very self-aware, so take from that what you will, friend.

Get up and do a chore/take a shower/eat a snack/literally just walk through a friggin' doorway, more often than not it'll at least make your brain reorient enough for you to realize you were just beating your head against a wall and need to do [ INSERT DAMAGE CONTROL/HARM REDUCTION BEHAVIOR HERE ].

Track your progress. Write to-do lists and cross shit off 'em. Keep track of your word count when you write; put it in a spreadsheet or a notebook or on a graph on your bulletin board.

Get a NEW way to track your progress. I currently use, like, three different "to-do list" apps to varying degrees in varying ways, not counting just my basic calendar app ( for the record: Finch, Structured, and just a generic notes app, but mostly Finch and Structured and seriously I CANNOT recommend Finch enough, go get yourself a bird buddy immediately. do you want a friend code, I will GIVE you a friend code, I think it gives you a bonus mini-pet or something if you use it. ), and also set myself MANY a phone alarm to remind myself of things that I need to do in case I space out or get distracted by somebody/something/the specific phase of the moon.

Did you take your meds? Take your fucking MEDS, self, good LORD.

Leave the house even if for literally, like, thirty seconds to just stand in some actual natural light. Or leave the house to go eat at a cafe or library or fast food place and just put yourself in a new environment for literally any length of time whatsoever.

Switch pens. Switch notebooks. Get a NEW notebook. Use your laptop instead. Use your PHONE instead. Get a nicer notebook. Get a shittier notebook. Use the scratch paper at work. Use the Procreate app on your friggin' iPad if you gotta, whatever, you do what you want!!

Don't write!!

Seriously just don't, go watch an actual scripted TV show or movie or read a book or a comic or some fic. Feed your brain something you didn't have to make up yourself.

Come up with a convoluted way to trick yourself into being accountable to someone else. Join a writing group. Make a Tumblr post about how you're gonna go write now. Ask Tumblr for their opinion on what you should write now. Ask Tumblr to spin this random wheel spinner game you generated and tell you what answer they got, and then write THAT.

HAVE you had a snack? Did you eat breakfast? Did you eat lunch? Did you remember to move around the house at any point whatsoever during the day? Maybe like, do that. Like, at least the snack part. Maybe a stretch or something wouldn't hurt either though.

Meal prep is so fucking useful and saves you SO much annoying time and also, like, makes you eat actual veggies and fruit and shit, genuinely actually works, the gym bros were not wrong, go figure. Also then you don't have to think about what you're gonna eat all the time and then cook it and then clean up and then--yeah anyway meal prep, god bless it. Once a week I make a batch of pasta salad and roast a pan of good-when-roasted veggies with like, garlic and salt and pepper and some olive oil and add bacon after, and then I portion it all into tupperware and in the morning I add spinach or crack an egg into that day's share of veggies for breakfast and maybe make some toast, and just grab one of the pasta salads whenever I want something lunch-like. It saves SO much time and distraction when you are hurting for free time/focus. So, SO much.

Unfortunately the gym bros were also correct about exercise, if that's doable for you. Exercise does in fact make you feel better and more energized and less depressed, fuck those guys for being right about that shit. Assuming you have enough iron in your blood to actually, like, do it, which admittedly I frequently do not, but the point stands.

Dude why are you even trying to write, you're so tired, go to bed and get up early, you write SO much better in the mornings anyway.

Hey, I know that's how you USED to write, but like, is that actually how you write right now? Is that actually even what works for you anymore? Actually maybe outlines COULD be helpful or maybe you don't need all those worldbuilding notes all at once; maybe your inner architect needs to let the building decay and go back to nature or maybe your inner gardener has developed a taste for trellises, metaphorically speaking and all.

Please eat something. Also please DRINK something. Like ideally water but we'll go for anything that involves a liquid, seriously.

Hey did you know actually if you ONLY eat instant ramen and microwave pizza you'll probably get scurvy and die instead of, like, writing your magnum opus? Like probably?? Put a fucking egg in that ramen, man! Slice up a scallion in that bitch!! EAT AN ACTUAL WHOLE FRUIT or at least, like, buy a smoothie with actual fruit involved somewhere in it on occasional. The whole fruit, unfortunately, is better. I like apples. Apples take a REAL long time to rot if I forget they exist for a couple weeks or whatever. But like, mango smoothies are also the shit, can't turn down a mango smoothie or a good strawberry-banana. Hey did you know the grocery store just, like, will let you just buy one single apple and they don't give a fuck? You're free! The cashier won't remember you in five minutes!! Buy your one single apple and work your way up to maybe two apples next time!! Also now I want an apple!!!!

Don't write. Don't write THAT. Write the other thing. No, the OTHER other thing. No, not THAT other other thing.

The rules are made up and the points don't matter.

Fuck it, we ball.

[ INSERT FULL-THROTTLE STIMMING BEHAVIOR HERE ]

Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic.

God, that's the weirdest fucking idea you've ever had, literally NO ONE but you would read it. So you should write 180k of it and also make it even weirder and yes it will absolutely be the one fic that just about everyone in MCU fandom who knows you exist knows you for, don't even worry about it, this isn't based on a true story at all.

Actually you could probably storyboard this scene to figure out wtf is happening here. Or like just draw literally anything related to this story, a bit of that might work some kinks out of the whole process.

Did you get that snack yet?

Hey go pet your dog, she's very soft and wants attention and also her OWN snack. Pet your dog and eat an apple and idk watch some anime or a weird niche documentary or an even more niche reality show, have you seen Deep-Fried Dynasty yet, it's on Hulu and was surprisingly engrossing.

Why are you even following the rules, we've been over this, they are made up and the points do NOT matter, and also you're not even getting graded for this anyway.

Yeah okay that thing you wrote sucked, but it turns out that Dean Koontz somehow has a writing career and also Twilight happened to all of us, so actually even the suckiest thing you ever write is gonna be better than the perfect ideal of the scene in your head, because the suckiest thing you ever write is something OTHER people can READ. And again: Dean Koontz has a career. Colleen HOOVER has a career. And fucking good for them, they're killing it, they are fucking WRITING!! Who gives a damn anyway, fix it in editing if you're that worried about it, they call it a rough draft for a reason.

Hey if that thing doesn't work you can just, like, delete it. Or rewrite it. Or stick it in your back pocket and do something else for a while. The sunk-cost fallacy is bullshit and you don't have to listen to it.

Maybe drink some more caffeine, that'll calm you down. [ DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE OF ADVICE TAILORED TO A PERSON WITH MORE ADHD THAN LITERALLY NINETY-FIVE PERCENT OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH ADHD; THAT PERCENTAGE IS ON THE ACTUAL LEGITIMATE DIAGNOSTIC PAPERWORK ]

Seriously you can just write anything you want, nobody can stop you. Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic enough that that's like, thirty-seventy odds at BEST.

God that idea is so niche and weird and niche, better tone it the fuck down to--oh wait no mass appeal means you're writing popcorn and literally no one will remember it in five minutes anyway, stop reflexively censoring yourself for some imaginary audience that will just chew straight through your one-size-fits-all story for The Content(tm) and then immediately move onto the next one without even bothering to hit "kudos" or remember anything about it later. I have written shit so weird that people still remember how weird I was TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, man, and that is why literally anyone will EVER remember that you exist or wanna read your stuff or follow you to a new fandom where they don't even know the source material, fuck it, they'll wiki some shit. And also who cares anyway, it's YOUR stuff and YOU wanna read it. Your agnostically-possible god did not make you this weird and niche for no reason, don't pussy out now!!

Actually you can just write in the bath/on the bus/while waiting for your roommate to finish up with the guy running this estate sale. You've got your phone, right? Fuck it, pack a notebook. Pack an extra notebook. Pack a smaller notebook. Pack a BIGGER notebook.

It's not stupid if it works. You don't have to do what literally ANYONE else is doing, you just have to do what works.

You can literally just skip to the good part and write that, actually. Nobody's gonna throw you in writer-jail. What are we, cops?? Actually do you even need this lead-up here or do you just need to write this one specific blorbo gettin' laid REAL enthusiastically kinkily and/or maybe having a nervous breakdown sobfest over their perception of their personal self-worth and everything else is kinda just window dressing??

I mentioned the snack thing, right? Also sugar rushes are fake but sugar CRASHES are real so maybe be a little careful on that one, maybe buy some trail mix/jerky/smoked salmon, smoked salmon is SO good, smoked salmon is just objectively delicious.

Go talk somebody's ear off about what you're trying to write about. Bonus points if you can find somebody who matches your freak enough that you write, uhhhhh /checks smudged writing on wrist/ a 60k Overwatch fic in two weeks and also like 280k of Witcher fic in less than a year specifically because they're just a real good cheerleader. Wow. Wow that was a lot more Witcher fic than I was aware I had written. THE POINT IS LOOK FOR A WRITING BUDDY, WRITING BUDDIES ARE THE SHIT.

If the writing buddy doesn't work out though the first time I won NaNoWriMo I did it directly out of spite because someone said they didn't think I actually would. So like, spite is always an option, you can always keep that one on tap if you gotta.

Stephen King did not write "On Writing" because he didn't want you to write. Francesca Lia Block did not introduce you to the weirdest and gayest shit teenage!you had ever read so you'd grow up and be a fucking NORMIE about this shit. SIR TERRY PRATCHETT DID NOT WRITE LIKE SIXTEEN OF YOUR FAVORITE BOOKS OF ALL TIME BECAUSE HE DID NOT WANT YOU TO WRITE WHAT YOU WERE ACTUALLY FRICKIN' INTO.

Clean your room. No, better than that. Okay fuck it just set a ten-minute timer and do what you can in that time, we work with the spoons we've got.

Random number generator. Random color generator. Random "hey followers here's a very oblique poll, don't even worry about what it's about, just click a button please and thank you".

Did you know the internet will just GIVE you free graphs/trackers/bullet journal page designs and you can just print 'em out and do whatever the heck you want with 'em?? Yes my new little "color in the squares every day you do the thing" tracker IS just six daily writing tasks and two daily "just go pick some stuff up in this specific room" tasks and that is MY BUSINESS, MS. SIR AND MR. MADAM AND MX. [ INSERT BUZZER SOUND ]. And also, like, has done much better at getting me to do chores than anything else has in a minute, go fig.

You can actually just do whatever you want forever.

Literally, like just forever.

Fuck, how many times HAVE you done this? You'll never get better for good, it'll always go bad again, you'll always get sick again, you'll always get SAD again, you'll always fucking forget how to even DO this again and have to start all over.

Well yes, obviously, because you'll always have done it again. So do it again. One more time.

( seriously though did you take your meds-- )

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 44. ???

a/n: written part seems a bit short but shits gonna be brewing (i think) also the last name for lauren rhymes with the last name of an evil man i know so like. shit i just make up ppl based on my Enemies omfg…

you shouldn’t be doing this. you should be on your way to hybe right now to tell hanni that yujin solved her “problem” with her girlfriend. you shouldn’t have lied in the first place, really.

still, you’re out your dorm with something slightly presentable because you can’t show up looking like a bum to see the girl who dumped you over a year ago.

fuck. you think as you walk toward the cafe. fuck.

there's a growing worry about whether or not you'll be caught out with her, knowing that there's a bit of attention on you due to your popularity. it doesn't matter, you tell yourself, it'll be over quickly.

you walk in and the cafe is quiet other than the clinks of cups, conversation, and buzz of the espresso machine. scanning the room, there's a familiar figure that sits in the more secluded corner. you order a latte in hopes that it'll give you some good luck.

when the time hits 3:05, you sit in front of lauren, catching her by surprise. she looks more mature now, prettier (as much as you hate to admit), but there's a familiarity that weighs the air with too much left unsaid. you don't let any of it bother you, not yet.

"you look good," she says first, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

you exhale slowly, offering a polite nod. "thanks."

she hesitates for a moment, fingers tapping against the table before she speaks again. "I missed you."

you grimace. the words hang between you, waiting for something—acknowledgment, maybe. but you only lift your cup to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down.

"how are you and your boyfriend?" you ask, voice even.

she lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "still together."

of course. you nod again, as if it doesn't matter—because it doesn't.

"what do you want? and why are you in seoul?" you ask, tone vicious.

she traces her nail along the rim of her glass. "for work. i do modeling on the side."

the irony hits you, and before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh.

"what?" she asks, tilting her head.

"that's so fucking ironic. you bashed me for doing music and now you're a model. are you playing with me?" you respond, though it 's not hard to believe that she is a model; she's pretty, it's not hard to see that. hating her guts doesn't erase that either.

she smiles, that same practiced, self-assured curve of her lips. "it's different. modeling is just a side thing for me. I'm still focused on my degree and getting a stable job. you know, something secure." she takes a sip of her drink, keeping eye contact.

it's backhanded, but you don't react. you simply nod.

"right." you say, your tone light.

you don't owe her anything—not a reaction, and definitely not an explanation. whatever this meeting was supposed to be, it's clear now that it isn't for closure. maybe just curiosity on her end. for you? it's just a reminder that some things are better left in the past; you should've seen hanni instead.

lauren places her chin on her palm, giving you the same look that she'd give you before a kiss or something more. you feel your heart sink and there's a strange, uncomfortable churn in your stomach.

"you look really good after all this time. all that fame did you good." she says, smirking. "it's no wonder I spent all that time with you. i really do miss it."

you freeze, unsure of how to respond.

she chuckles and reaches over, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears before sliding her finger down your cheek.

"you're lucky, you know?" she continues, "i can't believe you made it this far. maybe I should've reconsidered."

you scoff. "don't you have a boyfriend? stop acting like this."

"i always liked to tease." she grins, not fighting back when you put your hand on hers to aggressively push it back. "your reactions were always great—cute."

what are you still here for? you groan at her response, narrowing your eyes at her. she seems to be scanning you, looking for every emotion you feel through your eyes and twitch of your features. it's scrutinizing, and it urges you to bring the meeting to a close.

"i don't know what you wanted, or what you gained from this," you begin, standing up. "but if it was to make me feel bad again, then fuck you. and if you really thought you could coax me back into your life—you're a fucking idiot. i honestly don't want to hear from you again, don't contact me or anything."

her reaction consists of a mere chuckle, plus a shit-eating grin. you bite down on your back teeth and scoff again at her before leaving. you've never had a more confusing—and frustrating—interaction with her. what was the point? for her to bash you discretely? you tell yourself not to get worked up by it, but it made your blood boil.

—

masterlist ; previous - next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @layonaiguess @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy @keiji-jin @awkwardtoafault @syronns @linnnsworld @inybits @ynwrites

[kxtsukixoxo]

pro!hero dynamight is known for his explosive nature, fans second guessing if they should really approach the hothead. is it really surprising when you aren’t scared of him?

𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗦 ᥫ᭡ 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗩 ᥫ᭡ 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧

katsuki helped kenji out of the car, hoisting him up against his chest while he swung the boys backpack onto his other shoulder. you watched kenji look at katsuki with his thumb in his mouth, intrigued. kenji reached for katsukis face, kneading his face as if it were dough. half expecting katsuki to burst out of anger, instead he chuckled at the boys curiosity, you watched kenji giggle as katsuki grinned at him. 

the media saw a different person, but when it came to you, you saw the softer side of the famous pro hero dynamight. whenever he was around you, he didn’t have to worry about his public image. he could be himself. 

ordering your usual, katsuki stuck with his ordinary black coffee. kenji tugged onto your shirt, trying to get your attention. 

“what’s wrong bub?” 

the baby babbled some sort of language only you could understand, while katsuki stood there confused, but amazed at the same time. he loved watching you be a mother to your child, you knew him better than anybody, understanding whatever he said, even though it was just mispronounced words. 

you asked the barista for a chocolate muffin, as per kenji’s request. katsuki helped you place kenji down, as you helped him unwrap the brown paper off his muffin. 

“tiny bites, if you can’t do that, i’m taking the muffin away” you scolded the boy, katsuki watched in earnest. you turned around to grab something from kenji’s bag, katsuki paid attention to the baby next to him, all of a sudden, kenji attempted to take a big bite out of the muffin, katsuki figured out what he was trying to do “hey, no!” he tried grabbing the muffin, out of kenji’s tiny hands, fighting with the toddler. 

you sighed as you watched katsuki fight with the kid 10x smaller than him, trying to pull him away from the muffin, joining in, you finally got the muffin away from kenji. 

“god you’re a menace” you exhaled, watching katsuki break the muffin in pieces and hand kenji each individually, waiting for him to finish the one in his hand first, before handing him another 

kenji reached out for two pieces this time, “finish the one in your hand first!” katsuki scolded the baby. kenji stuck his tongue out at the grown man, katsuki looked at the kid in absolute disbelief “you did not just do that-“ the baby babbled whatever nonsense he felt like at katsuki, you watched the two bicker causing you to giggle. 

kenji had finally fallen asleep, you held him in your arms as katsuki and you took a walk around the lake near the café

“so i’m guessing kenji didn’t magically appear one day then huh?” 

you chuckled “i wish” 

“im guessing the dads an ass then” katsuki glanced at you, taking in your softened features 

“an ass and a half” you sighed as you felt the memories of your baby’s father rush in “he knocked me up and left me with the kid because he was scared of parenthood” 

katsuki boiled at the thought of this guy that he didn’t even know, leaving you to take care of his baby all by yourself, he couldn’t imagine the struggle you went through as a single mother. “i had no support, my parents didn’t really like the fact their daughter got knocked up at 18, so i was by myself until kenji came into the picture.” 

katsuki mentally did the math, kenji’s barely 4 years old, the kid grew up with no father in his life, all he had was his mom. he couldn’t bare to think about the life you went through. 

“i’m sorry-“ katsuki started 

“no, don’t.” you looked up at him as you two walked around a bed of flowers “i hate pity, i got through it, kenji and i are fine now and that’s all that matters” 

katsuki loved the fact you were an independent woman, you were strong, although a bit too energetic, it was impressive indeed. 

“i can believe this lil guy is gonna argue with me in 13 years” 

“ill make sure he knows how to treat a woman” 

the words slipped out of katsuki’s mouth. 

you smiled at him, hoping that meant he’d stay. 

there’s no way you two were nothing more than friends. 

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 - @rinkomei @ qyuin @kalulakunundrum @amayaaaxx @lotusstarr @mona345 @aryuunachigiri @emmaafinchh @haruesme  @nottherealslimshady @taxavoider @gomu-gomu-gojo @your-mum3000 @slutlight2ndver

[bluuscreen]

okay actually i’m gonna talk more about the seizures thing under the cut because i wanna get into it

first i’m gonna give the disclaimer that i personally have never had a seizure [afaik? though i feel like that’s something i would know] and i’m basing this purely on some cursory research, but i’m definitely open to input if anyone with more experience than me has any o7 this is also a sort of fantasy version of epilepsy since it’s caused by something supernatural, but i’m gonna try and keep it at least kinda grounded

sonic’s seizures are mostly caused by stress or fatigue. so if he overworks himself, doesn’t get enough sleep, etc. he’s at higher risk

this does mean he’s probably most liable to seize during battles and the various world-ending calamities that happen on a semi-regular basis. his friends end up setting up a system where he isn’t allowed to go in without backup anymore [even if it annoys him] and they’ll tag in to do the brunt of the fighting if he even looks like he’s getting a bit wobbly/spacey

if he does pass out/space out during battle the usual protocol is for tails, rouge, or shadow [because of flight and/or speed] to carry him somewhere safe, make sure he’s alright and set up with a book or a game to relax with once he’s conscious again, then get back to the fight if they’re still needed

his seizures mostly present like how the whole prism ghost thing looked after nine got the energy out of his body. falling to the ground, passing out, twitching/spasming, you get it. going by the descriptions that i’m reading on mayoclinic i think it’d be something akin to tonic or tonic-clonic?

starfall islands SUCKED for him both because he was stressed pretty much the whole time with very little help/rest and the cyber corruption made his symptoms way worse. he mainly experienced memory loss, fatigue, numbness, and brain fog, on top of his already present symptoms. amy, knuckles, tails and later sage had to keep reminding him of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing [this part could be considered canon [just slightly different circumstances] if we look at the voice lines that are shown in this video. looking at the comments it seems these lines weren’t actually cut, they just probably only play when sonic is idle for long enough. which ofc makes me wish the corruption had more consequences which is why i’m tying it in here]

the memory issues are somewhat of an ongoing problem, not really related to the seizures specifically but they are still related to the prism energy and later cyber corruption messing with his brain. his friends have had to get used to occasionally being called by the wrong name when sonics wires get crossed and he mixes them up with one of their shatter-selves. shadow is technically immune to this, but sonic has forgotten his name at least once and resorted to using nicknames for like twenty minutes until shadow noticed and reminded him

i’m not quite sure how sonic handles big fights once tails, amy and knuckles go off to travel the world after frontiers? honestly the most fun idea to me here is that eggman is like “yeah i’m evil but i’m not that much of an asshole” and just doesn’t cause any huge shit until he knows sonic has backup. or team dark and his other friends just help him out more often idk

going super does temporarily fix all of these issues, but obvi he can’t be super sonic forever. it’s like taking panadol for a headache—fixes the symptom, not necessarily the cause, and wears off eventually

watched sonic prime, have some doodles [no the “classic” universe doesn’t really make sense However i wanted to draw tiny shadow so whatever]

text under the “classics” since it may be hard to read:

- shadow is arguably nicer, but he’s affectionate in the same way a grumpy cat is

- not the actual classics [obvi, since shadow doesn’t have a classic vers.]. they’re in roughly the same point in the timeline [as regular sonic and shadow], they’re just small

[ecstxsyy]

DO ME, BABY. | C. KENT ❦

Red K!Clark is easily riled up.

18+ mdni!

red k!clark kent x fem!reader

warnings: dom!clark, brat!reader, clark is kinda mean (but not really), p in v, unprotected sex (always wrap it up), cream pie.

requests for v-day event are still open!!

cupid’s candy hearts masterlist

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

CLARK LOVED taking you on dates to show you off, he loved the claim he had over you. Men physically cowered away from you in his presence and it stroked his ego like no other. The shiny class ring on his right hand was the sole contributor to the way he was acting, though, you didn’t mind it much.

You loved Clark and the way you guys had sex without it, but it added a new element you never realized was missing. He was rougher, manhandled you in a way that you deep down had craved for a long time. Yet you had no idea anything was even different, you assumed he was just feeling more confident and left it at that.

Today was Valentine's Day and Clark wanted to take you to a party a friend of his was hosting to celebrate the holiday, you were quite social so you were looking forward to the outing. As the night approached, you finished off the last touches on your look for the night. Clark lingered near your vanity, a distasteful look on his face. The dress you wore had a deep-cut V-neck, he could already imagine all the guys that would be drooling over you.

“What’s up with you?” you questioned, your brows furrowing. Clark huffed and straightened himself out, walking towards the bathroom connected to your bedroom.

“Nothing,” you heard him mumble under his breath, his reply made you roll your eyes. You stood to face him once you were completely ready. You studied his face for a while trying to decipher what was different about him, something had changed but nothing was visibly different.

“Whatever,” you sighed, walking to grab your shoes from their place in their closet. Clark was behind you in a millisecond, snaking his hands around your waist.

“Don't, ‘whatever’ me,” Clark said in a snippy tone, gripping your hip tight enough to where you’ll definitely have a bruise in its place tomorrow.

“What’s gotten into you?” you huffed, trying to walk away from him when his arms snapped you back into place immediately.

“More like what hasn't gotten into you, yet.” Clark smirked, grabbing the fabric of your dress to ride the hem up your thighs.

“Clark,” you warned, “we're gonna be late,”

“Or, we could just not go at all,” Clark whispered into the shell of your ear. You shook him off and grabbed your purse, heading out towards Clark’s car.

Clark rolled his eyes and followed behind you, scooping his keys up off of your dresser. As you made it outside, he unlocked the car and pulled your door open for you, shutting it once you climbed inside. He got into his side and started the car, his silence was deafening.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a loud house party, the music was audible from outside, and drunk people stumbled across the lawn. Clark huffed before getting out of the car to open your door for you. You stepped out and made your way inside, pushing through the sweaty sea of bodies.

You found your way to the kitchen and poured yourself a drink, glancing around to take in the people around you. Clark lingered by your side, watching you intently.

As you sat at the kitchen island sipping your drink, a boy approached you with a sheepish smile.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?” He asked, looking from you to Clark.

“Yeah, nice to meet you. And you are?” You smiled, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Jack,” the boy introduced, shaking your hand. His touch lingered after the handshake and you pulled your hand away like you had just touched hot steel, gazing back to look at Clark. The sight that greeted you nearly made you pale, he was fuming.

Clark fixed his grip around your upper arm, dragging you back out the way the two of you had come just a few minutes prior. You fought a bit and the look Clark gave you made you stop immediately, running chills down your spine.

When you got to the car, Clark all but threw you in, slamming the door behind you. He moved to his side with speed and cranked up the car, peeling out of the driveway quickly. Clark parked a block away from the party on a side street and shut the car off.

“Get in the back,” he demanded firmly, getting into the back once you got back there.

His hands found the zipper of your dress and pulled it down as soon as he was next to you, grabbing the bottom hem of your dress and lifting it above your head. You were completely bare under the dress, you sort of figured you’d end up in this situation at some point.

“God, you’re such a whore,” Clark scoffed, squeezing your perky nipples between his thumb and pointer finger. A small gasp left your lips as your back arched into him, begging for his touch.

“So needy for me already,” his voice dripped with lust and cockiness, moving his hands behind you to grip your ass. You crawled into his denim-clad lap, rubbing your clit against his erection through the fabric. Clark’s strong hands found a place on each of your hips, halting your movements.

“Patience,” Clark said with a devilish smirk, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Your greedy hands moved to help him slide them down, but he slapped them away and tsked at you.

“Not so fast, you help when I say you can help,” his words ran shivers down your spine, you didn't know where this new hard side of him was coming from, but you didn't mind it in the slightest.

Clark flipped you onto your back to lie across the street, his solid form hovering above you. The boy shimmied out of his jeans and boxers, letting his cock spring free against your leaking cunt. The way your legs spread further for him out of habit made his jaw go slack for a minute, immediately recovering before you noticed.

His fat tip parted your folds with ease as he slid it up and down your slit, slapping it against your sensitive clit a few times. Clark then slid his cock into you with ease, your wetness providing all the lube he needed to start thrusting in and out of you.

Clark’s fast thrusts rocked the small car back and forth, you were grateful he chose a discreet parking spot or everyone would know what was going on in the backseat of the car. Clark’s speed was unusually fast, he loved to take his time with you. But right now, he was fucking you for his pleasure, not yours.

That didn't mean you weren't still screaming his name as his cock bruised your cervix, your body was coursing full of pleasure. You felt like you were full of electricity, your nerves tingling with white-hot pleasure. You were in pure ecstasy, your hands fumbling to your clit to push you over the edge into your first orgasm.

It tore through you with vigor, your muscles spasming beneath the large man. Clark smiled while watching you come apart, he slowed his hips a little to let you recover. That orgasm had taken practically everything out of you, your shuddering breaths wracking through your body.

“Not done with you yet,” Clark mumbled, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling you up onto your hands and knees. His calloused palm met your soft ass cheek roughly, leaving bright red marks in its wake. You cried out in both pain and pleasure, the smacks hurt so good. Clark repeated this a few times, soothing the skin over with his palm after his last strike to the swollen flesh.

Before you could recover from the smacks, Clark’s cock was filling you to the brim again. His rough hands kneaded your ass while pounding into you, the slap of his hips irritated the red skin of your ass more but he could care less.

Your moans spilled out of you before you could even begin to attempt to contain them, his fat cock was pressing into your g-spot over and over again. The pleasure bubbled throughout you and your abused pussy clenched around him, the sudden constriction caused Clark to moan from behind you.

“I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” Clark half asked, half stated. You nodded and pushed your hips back into him, chasing your own orgasm that was so close on your horizon.

Clark shot his warm load deep into you with one last thrust, filling you to the brim with his cum. The sensation sent your second orgasm crashing over you, wracking your body with trembles as you sprayed your orgasm all over the seat beneath you.

“Holy shit, Clark,” you panted, your chest heaving with your breaths. Clark just laughed and began redressing.

“Bet Jake couldn't fuck you like that,” the dark-haired boy scoffed.

“Jack,” you corrected.

“What?” Clark asked through clenched teeth, his face starting to turn a shade of red.

“His name was Jack,” you giggled, teasing him. Clark got out silently still half-dressed and started the car with you still in the back. You slid your dress over your head and sighed.

God were you in for it when you got home.

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

[rekino2114]

Could we get something with chara for the valentine's day event. I was thinking either 8, 9 or 10 you decide. We need more content for her

Chara valentine's day prompts

Pairing:female chara dreemur x gn reader

A/n:I decided to use a different writing style than usual since I thought it fit better with the prompts

Prompts list

Prompt#9: giving her a hersey's kiss instead of a real one

Y/n:Hey Chara do you want a kiss?

Chara:no

Y/n:what? You always say you love them

Chara:Always is an exaggeration, I can't say I hate them but I don't need one every hour

Y/n:come on pretty please, just a small one

Chara:you're gonna bother me until I say yes aren't you?

Y/n:probably

Chara:[sighs] fine I guess your kisses are nice

Y/n:I knew you liked them!

Chara:whatever

Y/n:Close your eyes first

Chara:why? That's weird

Y/n:no its more romantic

Chara:you better not do something weird

Y/n:don't worry I think you'll quite like it

[Chara sighs again but closes her eyes and opens her mouth, waiting for your kiss]

Chara:come on hurry up

[You take the chocolate out of your pocket and put it in chara's mouth. She's surprised at first, but as soon as she recognizes the sweet taste, she starts chewing it with a smile on her face]

Y/n:so did you like that?

Chara:Yeah.....but what about the kiss

Y/n:That was it, I gave you a hersey's kiss, it's a type of chocolate

Chara:oh...........ok

Y/n:did you want one that bad~?

Chara:when you told me you were gonna give me a kiss I expected a kiss

Y/n:well I did give you one

Chara:fine, if you wanna play it like this then I'm gonna get the kiss myself

Y/n:what do you-

[Suddenly, chara takes you by the collar of your shirt and kisses you passionately on the lips]

Y/n:........wow

Chara:now that was a real kiss

Y/n:Do you....want more kisses

Chara:Yeah

Y/n:which ones?

Chara:both, I love both.....but I guess yours are a bit better

Y/n:[giggle]:I'm glad you love me more than chocolate

Chara:obviously, would I kill someone for chocolate?

Y/n:yes actually, you very much would

Chara:come on, I'm better than that

Y/n:if you say so........wait were you implying you'd kill someone for me

Chara:did I stutter?

Prompt#8:feeding chocolate covered strawberries to each other

[Chara walks over to you eating a chocolate bar looking angry]

Chara:hey y/n, what happened to the chocolate bars in the fridge

Y/n:what do you mean? They're still there

Chara:no I brought 8, like 3 of them are gone

Y/n:......you eat way too much chocolate

Chara:just answer my question

Y/n:I melted it and made chocolate fondue

Chara:......what's that?

Y/n:Are you serious? You're obsessed with chocolate and don't know what chocolate fondue is?

Chara:I'm allowed to not know stuff, but I'm curious now what is it?

Y/n:it's just melted chocolate that you put in a bowl and dip stuff in

Chara:that actually sounds pretty good, can I have some

Y/n:yeah sure, I made it for us anyway

[You take a strawberry,dip it in the fondue and hold it over her mouth]

Y/n:People usually do it with strawberries, so here you go

Chara:I can eat it myself

Y/n:but i made it for valentine's day, it's more romantic like this

Chara:......you are so lucky I love you and chocolate

[She eats the strawberry and hums in happiness as her eyes sparkle]

Chara:wow that's good and I don't even like strawberries normally

Y/n:yeah, you'd probably eat a shoe if it was covered in chocolate

Chara:no seriously try it

[Chara dips a strawberry in the chocolate and shoves it in your mouth]

Y/n:....oh yeah, that is really good

Chara:see?

Y/n:i could have done without the force feeding though

Chara:I thought you said it was romantic

Y/n:You shoved it in my mouth how is that romantic?

Chara:whatever

[Chara looks at the fondue and the chocolate bar in her hands with determination in her eyes]

Chara:what do you think would happen if I dipped the chocolate bar into chocolate?

Y/n:diabetes, I think you'd get diabetes

Chara:.........worth it

Y/n:WAIT CHARA NO!

[according2thelore]

No, because that post you reblogged, about season one Sammy basically going stop hanging out with me and joking about season 15 Sam with “where are my kisses form mommmy?”

Yeah. YEAH. That’s the main draw from ls Sam/esdean for me. Because that shit lines up PERFECCTLY. A Sam that WANTS Dean to baby him and adore him? Dean would lose his mind. He would become psychopathic. He would somehow get WORSE. Because Sammy has been resisting that shit after he turned like 13. And Dean just got him back from college (the ultimate “get away from me Dean” move). And he gets to see this affection desperate ls! Sam that’s so blatant about it and centers out Dean loud?! Omgggggggg. Omgfg. It’s like being on restrictive diet every day for 20 years, and then someone just giving you 15 chocolate cakes and telling you to go crazy. (Also thinking the LS Dean is insane and a shitty brother, because why is ls Sam starved for affection?! What are you DOING?!)

And LsSam, who probably has definitely thought about how he didn’t appreciate being deans obsession back when it was still around? Literally would roll around in the mud. The mud of deans affection. Glut himself. Obsessed. Everything he thought he’d never have again. Everything he licked himself over not appreciating. Delivered.

Of course LS! Dean has probably taught himself over the years, and all the trauma, to be really careful about showing his sam obsession TO Sam- and is bewildered and horrified and jealous, and ripping himself apart. Because you don’t really notice every personality change you go though over time, you know? And I’m not sure Dean would even realize he’s gotten less “mommy” and affectionate over the years. They still have their big emotional “I love you so much” thing at least once an apocalypse. Maybe he doesn’t see that’s it’s…different.

And ES Sam isn’t there because that’s not my thing 😂

hello!!! (the post in question!)

EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!

ES!Dean would become UNHINGED the first time he calls LS!Sam "sammy" when LS!Sam gets his shit rocked on a hunt and LS!Sam just kind of melts into the arm around his shoulder, joking lightly about how dean's going to have to carry him out of there.

dean's entire brain does a hard-reboot. blue screen and high pitched whirring and the whole thing.

he actually tries, legs shaking and stumbling underneath the weight of a full-grown thirty-something year old sam, who huffs and pained laugh and asks to be let down. ES!Dean is obsessed. because what the fuck do you MEAN LS!Sam leans into his arm and laughs gently and loves being called sammy and looks up at him with big, wet eyes and lets dean pet over his busted ribs??? WHAT THE FUCK??

ES!Dean goes full mommy-mode, lmao. they limp back to the impala, ES!Dean insisting that sammy take a few breaks, because he's looking pale. sam obeys every time, leaning a little more into dean while he gasps for breath, making little jokes about the monster or the weather or dean's fucking face--dean has no idea, his brain is on fire.

when they make it back to the car, dean insists on getting in the back with LS!Sam, and to LS!Dean's shock, LS!Sam agrees. ES!Sam awkwardly slides into the front seat while ES!Dean coos over LS!Sam in the backseat. LS!Dean almost crashes the fucking car when ES!Dean pushes LS!Sam's hair off of his forehead.

"it's gonna be okay, little brother, gonna get you patched up." ES!Dean says, just loud enough for LS!Sam to hear over the rumbling guitar of the radio. LS!Sam's entire world has shifted a little bit, because ES!Dean is so naked about it.

usually, if nothing's broken, LS!Dean will give him a clap on the shoulder and an opened beer, and chat with him to take his mind off of it. but ES!Dean is babbling about nothing in particular while his hands are all over him, his aching ribs and shoulder and hair and denim-clad knee and--LS!Sam's eyes almost roll back into his head like he just got a hit of his drug of choice--dean wipes a bit of dirt off of the side of his face with his shirtsleeve, absently, like he's not even thinking about it. he hasn't done shit like that since sam was...fuck, eight? eleven?

LS!Sam is so fucking exhausted after such a terrible week culminating in a clumsy hunt, and needs dean so acutely that he's sick with it, that he lets ES!Dean help him out of the car with a bracing hand on his stomach and an arm around his shoulder, and lead him away to LS!Sam's room for first aid. he doesn't wait for LS!Dean, because the hands on him are so warm and the familiar rumble of his voice and the lulling scent of cologne that dean stopped wearing years ago is soaking in every sinus in his skull.

ES!Dean deposits him gently on LS!Sam's bed and spends over an hour gently combing LS!Sam for cuts and scrapes and bumps. he whispers gentle and warm in his ear when he finally tests his ribs, apologizing softly when sam winces. sam is practically asleep at this point, even through the pain, so comforted and lulled and adored. he feels like he flopped back into a bed in a home he hasn't been allowed into for years. he's completely pliant in dean's arms, and dean finally pulls his boots off and leaves him mostly asleep on his bed, and switches the lights out.

their dynamic doesn't really change.

when ES!Dean makes breakfast for all of them the next morning, he slaps LS!Dean's hand with the spatula when LS!Dean reaches for the waffle already set aside on a plate. "that's sammy's." he says, sharply. he almost gets his ass beat, but when LS!Sam shuffles in, looking more well-rested than he has in years, ES!Dean hops to it and delivers him a perfectly-buttered waffle. just how he likes it.

he brings LS!Sam coffee and tea and snacks at all hours of all days. he follows LS!Sam around like a puppy, yapping excitedly about whatever's going on or whatever he's thinking about. he recaps an entire season of "la casa de los malvados," a telenovela he binged in 2003, and he's expected sam to tell him to shut the fuck up, but sam never does. he nods along and smiles and rolls his eyes at all the right points.

he and sam go about archiving one of the bunker's storage rooms, and dean gets distracted while trying to detangle some wires and just ends up staring right at LS!sam while he finishes writing an object's description in his ledger. it takes a few minutes for him to notice, but when he does, he doesn't snap or get uncomfortable like ES!Dean is expecting.

"yeah?" he asks, smiling warmly, an eyebrow raised gently. and fuck, if it doesn't sound hopeful. dean passes out and dies.

he notices a rip in LS!Sam's shirt, and when LS!Sam pouts a little because this was his favourite shirt, ES!Dean is practically tearing it off of his body to see if he can fix it.

ANDDDD lest we forget, ES!Dean has his amulet. LS!Sam can't take his eyes off of it. he's constantly finding reasons to touch it. he fixes it when the little knot of the leather cord travels down to sit against the pendant. naturally, he has to get closer, hands arms circling dean's neck like they're about to slow dance or some other ridiculous shit that makes ES!Dean flush from just the proximity of him. he pats ES!Dean on the chest for a job well done instead of the back. his eyes are constantly drawn to it like a magnet. when they fuck he insists ES!Dean be on top so he can see/feel it swing against his body WHO SAID THAT

LS!Sam goes to grab a spoonful of mac-and-cheese off the top of the pot ES!Dean is making, and ES!Dean smacks the spoon out of sam's hand, telling him he's not going to spoil his dinner, dammit. you'll eat when i tell you and not a second before. LS!Sam blinks owlishly at him before obeying and sitting down at the kitchen table, eyes pinned on ES!Dean like magnets.

ES!Dean asks LS!Sam if he blow dries his long princess hair, and LS!Sam jokes that, no, LS!Dean usually does that instead. ES!Dean falls asleep dreaming about getting to take a blow dryer to LS!Sam's hair, fingers scratching against his scalp, sam pliant and trusting underneath him as dean moves him this way and that. he becomes a little obsessed. when he's in the shower room brushing his teeth one morning, does he sniff LS!Sam's towel? mind your business.

ES!Dean is literally walking around with brass proof that he adores him. it's like all the parts of dean that LS!Sam beat himself up over taking advantage of is here and in sam's lap, begging to be acknowledged and loved and to smell sam's clothes. LS!Sam, for his part, can't get enough of ES!Dean's attention. ES!Dean's constantly checking in with him and bringing him coffee or water or chips, under the guise of doing something else. he hadn't realized how much he had missed dean being in his space. ES!Dean is trying to take care of him, as crazy as it sounds, and so LS!Sam is going to let him, dammit. he hasn't been taken care of, not in the unique way dean used to, in years. longer. a decade or more.

LS!Sam starts to seek ES!Dean out if he hasn't heard from him in a few hours. he asks ES!Dean if he wants to go do something, or asks if he wants help with dinner, or asks if he's busy. ES!Dean--more often than not--perks right up because he had tried to find something to do to keep him busy because he figured LS!Sam was tired of spending time with him.

ES!Dean thinks LS!Dean is an absolutely insane asshole. LS!Sam sighs happily when ES!Dean brings him a blanket before their weekly movie night. he tilts his face into ES!Dean's shoulder and inhales deeply when ES!Dean pulls him into a rare hug. LS!Sam has clearly been starving. and LS!Dean has clearly been starving him.

LS!Dean is slowly losing his mind.

LS!Dean makes sure to buy LS!Sam's favourite weird health chips and fancy shampoo. he brings LS!Sam an opened beer to find ES!Dean already there, yapping wildly about season one of "lost" like someone has a gun to his head. LS!Sam is leaning against him, seemingly completely unaware that ES!Dean has the edge of his flannel in his hands, worrying it between thumb and forefinger like a goddamn mother cat licking her kitten.

LS!Dean knew that ES!Dean was going kind of crazy over him--to LS!Dean's mortification. he knew how much sam despised his attention when they were that age. he would push dean's questing hands away after an injury, would need his personal space, would snap at dean if he caught him staring.

but LS!Dean finds himself staring at ES!Dean staring at LS!Sam while he reads. they're sitting right next to each other, while LS!Dean sits across the table. LS!Sam looks up and catches him staring. ES!Dean flushes madly but doesn't say anything. LS!Sam...smiles. and he doesn't stop smiling. even after ES!Dean goes back to his reading, LS!Sam sits quietly pleased and messing with the long ends of his hair at the back of his neck, like he does when he's content.

LS!Dean is kind of shell-shocked.

he didn't think LS!Sam wanted or needed that. hell, for years, sam had been telling him in explicit terms that he didn't. LS!Dean tells sam that he loves him when it really counts. like in that church.

but...even as LS!Dean thinks about it, he can't remember the last time he doted on sam like that. when he finds out that LS!Sam has been seeking ES!Dean out to spend even more time with him, he's kind of devastated. he doesn't even know how to be that version of himself anymore. it's so raw and open and vulnerable that it hurts to look at.

he wants to kill something when he sees the two of them, heads bent low and laughing to each other. he shrivels up and dies whenever he sees LS!Sam bend down so ES!Dean can laughingly wipe jam off of LS!Sam's forehead. he's going to be sick.

he awkwardly tries to do something similar one afternoon, and LS!Sam just stares at him with wide, confused eyes. when LS!Sam comes to bed one night, LS!Dean holds him so tightly his knuckles turn white. he feels like he's losing him, to a part of him he doesn't even know if he can find anymore.

you phrased it so perfectly!!! ES!Dean GLUTS himself, he can't handle it. LS!Sam rolls around in the mud of ES!Dean's affection!!!!!!!!!

thank you so much for sending in this ask, and thank you for your patience in me responding!!!! <3333 i am wishing you the most blessed of mommy dean mondays.

-lizzy

[pinkiemachine]

Kon x M'gann HC's Part 2 Pretty Please with All the Fixings?

Loving the story.

Alrighty! Part 2!

So, to start off, I’ll just ramble a bit more about M’gann and Kon’s dynamic, then finish up the story :) Also posting this again because I think it turned out SO GOSH DARN CUTE! X3 (P.S. listen to “Bewitched” or “Serendipity” by Laufy. I feel like it captures the ✨ vibes ✨)

So it’s no surprise, after reading part 1, that Kon’s biggest flaw is that he’s very immature. He can get pouty and possessive when M’gann is paying attention to someone else, or when she’s gone for a while. He’s also a bit of an attention seeker, and he loves compliments and positive reinforcement of any kind. The first time M’gann gave him a kiss on the cheek, his world changed forever. Pretty sure it took the other guys about five minutes to snap him out of it. But, thankfully, as the story goes on, Kon gets a crash-course in a lot of things, including curbing his immaturity. He learns that you’re not supposed to roughhouse with girls (unless they’re comfortable with that sort of thing, and even then, don’t hurt them—super-strength and all), and he learns that sometimes M’gann is gonna pay attention to other people or go away for a little while and that’s normal and he doesn’t need to be overly upset about it. (He still pouts and misses her, though. It can’t be helped.) But the thing that he still has a problem with, to this day, is being a bit too aggressive when it comes to defending M’gann. The first time they met another Martian who was horribly rude to her, Kon almost brought out the laser eyes! Like, that dude would have been dust in the wind if the other TT hadn’t stepped in. Kon just can’t stand the idea of anyone hating M’gann, and for such a superficial reason no less! She’s beautiful and should be treated like she’s beautiful! (His words, not mine :) Ultimately, Kon HAS to keep himself in check on that account or else he risks starting an interplanetary war, but boy it’s hard.

M’gann sometimes falls back on her old habits and becomes a “yes woman,” agreeing to everything Kon wants to do even if she secretly wants to do something else. Cassie and Steph are the first to take notice of this behaviour, and help teach her to say “no.” If she’s uncomfortable, Kon isn’t gonna realise it on his own unless she tells him. She’s got to learn to put her foot down on things or she’s gonna be miserable. So M’gann practises this and other types of conversation in front of her mirror at night, and the first time she ever said no to one of Kon’s ideas, she felt so proud of herself! She wouldn’t stop smiling for the whole day! Kon had no idea why she was so happy, but when she was happy, he was happy, so it was a good day all the way around.

The dates they like to go on involve taking long walks around Earth. Neither of them had ever seen an ocean before, so they went to go see the ocean. Neither of them had ever been to a cheese factory before, so they went to go see a cheese factory and got free cheese curds on the way out. Then they went to a real baseball game and ate real hotdogs—they went to a museum (which M’gann liked more than Kon did, but they made it fun in the end)—they went on hikes, marvelling at all the different types of trees and bushes and butterflies and spiders and ants and birds and they even spotted a deer in the distance—and all the while, they would take pictures. So. Many. Pictures. M’gann has this old-school Martian camera and puts photo albums together of all the stuff she and Conner do together, like they’re already an old married couple. lol. Then, of course, when both of them are too tired to go out anywhere, they curl up on the couch and watch some of those old sitcoms M’gann grew up on. M’gann’s favourite is “That Girl” and Kon’s is “Hogan’s Heroes.”

Okay, now I’ve thoroughly set up how much fun they had together, time to make it all come crumbling down.

In the last post I said that Kon kept M’gann’s secret about being a white Martian and her past from the NTT and the JLA, but there was one person he was obligated to tell: Lex Luthor. Being that he was secretly working for the bald maniac, and it was his job to report in with any new information he’d learned, he had no choice. Even when he tried to lie or exclude details, Luthor grew suspicious of him and forced the info out of him. So when the reveal of his betrayal happened, it was so much worse for M’gann. Lex used what he had learned to help take her down, and also create a rift between her and Kon, because he wasn’t supposed to be getting attached to M’gann anyway. Kon was ordered to forget about her because he was never going to see her ever again, and M’gann wanted to forget Kon for sharing her most sacred secret. Not to mention, he had been lying to her from the start about his past, about his intentions, and who knows what else. Had he been using her to get information about the Justice League? About her uncle? Yes, he had, and he wanted to tell M’gann that he was ashamed of what he had done, but Lex wouldn’t let them be in the same room, so M’gann was left to think all sorts of awful things about him. It was a dismal day. This event is covered in full in another post which I will link below.

Now, of course, this story has a happy ending (because happy endings are the best kind of endings). Lex is eventually defeated, Kon is freed from him and LexCorp, and for once he gets to call the shots in his life. The first is going to M’gann and trying to make things up to her in any way he can. Now, at this point, M’gann knows that Lex was twisting Kon’s arm to a certain extent, so her anger is a little softened, but she still feels like an idiot for trusting him so easily, and she’s nervous about trusting him again. He’s still such an immature person—who knows what kind of big mistake he’ll make next?

Kon plucks up his courage and makes a traditional Martian apology to her—the big ceremonial kind meant for state officials and royalty when they’ve severely messed up something BIG—and begs her to give him one more chance. He knows full well that he’s a bit of a dunce when it comes to girls and Earth culture and even being a good person (again, his words) but he wants to be a better friend, he wants to be a good hero, and more than anything else he wants to be the best boyfriend he could possibly be for her. When he was making his decision to finally stand up against Lex, he was afraid of what Lex would do to him… but then he thought of M’gann. He remembered how much she meant to him, and that Lex was planning on hurting her as a part of his evil scheme, and even if it meant Lex would go ahead and terminate him and make another clone, he didn’t care. M’gann mattered more. And she always would. So, with all of this before her, M’gann was quite stunned, to say the least. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Given the fact that Kon had partaken in much of Lex’s plan willingly, the JLA agreed that some form of punishment was only fair, so it had been decided that Kon would spend a year on the Kent farm, essentially doing community service by helping them with all the chores. He would be confined to the property during all of that time, too, so the two of them were going to spend the next year in different places. M’gann hesitantly answered Kon’s apology with a “Maybe… I could write to you… and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Kon was so happy. He plowed through all his chores on the Kent farm each and every day—Ma and Pa, and sometimes Clark when he had the time—would teach him things and show him to do stuff, like carpentry. And then, every day he’d go and check the mailbox, waiting for a letter from M’gann, and when he’d get one, he’d race up to his room (Clark’s old room) and read it ten times over. Then he’d grab a paper and pen and write his response, filling her in on all the things that had happened on the farm the last week or so. They wrote to each other non-stop that year, eagerly, patiently waiting for Kon’s sentence to be up. And when it had been a full year, and Kon came back to the city and the NTT, he and M’gann went for a walk in the park, and without saying a word, they both knew… there was no one else they’d rather spend the rest of their life with.

(Then the picture is from a little party the gang threw in celebration of their victories over all their villains, including Lex, and everyone was encouraged to wear their home country’s traditional garb, and maybe even bring some traditional food or a traditional party game. It was a fun night, and M’gann and Conner got to see each other dressed up for the first time (probably. I haven’t written out each individual episode for the NTT yet, but I like to imagine this is the first time ☺️))

Part 1 👇

Kon’s backstory is included in this post… 👇

[snugglybunny11]

collegeroommate!vi comforting you

pairing! collegeroommate!vi x reader

about! you once again got stood up for a date, and your best friend vi was here to help

cw! literally just fluff (i can’t stop guys i love it)

word count! 458

an: im thinking this is only gonna be part one, idk i like this concept though

you and vi were best friends and college roommates. sure, when you first moved in it was a bit rocky, but now? connected at the hip, two peas in a pod, any analogy you could think of. there was just one problem- well, with you. no matter how hard you tried, your dating life was horrible! if you didn’t get stood up for a date, they’d just try and take you home for a quick hook up. and tonight was unfortunately no different. here you were, once again, crying on the couch while vi tried to comfort you, mascara streaming down your face. you really thought this was going to be a good date, or maybe you were just naive. tonight you were supposed to go out with Maddie Nolen, who you thought was a pretty nice girl. apparently not, because she never came to pick you up. not even a phone call or text. the nerve of some people!

“i mean- what am i doing wrong? it’s… it’s just her stupid problem! just like the rest of them!” your spoke in between sobs, your voice quivering and broken.

by now vi knew what you needed when you got stood up- someone to rant to and something warm. she rubbed your back in slow, soothing circles, trying her best to soften the force of your cries. vi absolutely hated seeing you like this, always expecting a picture perfect romance just for reality to hit you like a freight train.

vi’s voice was low and consoling, “hey, come on now. you aren’t doing anything wrong. it’s just… people don’t want romance like the way you want. plus, you don’t need a stupid girlfriend to keep you happy, yea? you got your bestie right here.”

vi pulled you a bit closer on her chest, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss your forehead. she really didn’t know what was happening to her lately. every time she’d comfort you after a failed date, there was a different type of ache in her chest. obviously she was upset for you, but now… she didn’t know what to make of it. vi would stay up late on nights like that, endlessly scrolling on her phone when she should be sleeping, trying to dislodge the look of desperation and sadness on your face. and then the tiny smile after you stopped crying. come on- this was her roommate for crying out loud. her best friend. she wouldn’t… there couldn’t be… maybe… maybe vi’s feelings went beyond the kind friend she was to you, the shoulder you’d always run to cry on. but for now, she couldn’t think of that. her main goal was being with you, consoling you, and being a good friend.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Mrs. R

Notes: You know what anon, great point. This is gonna be a two-parter. Not beta-read.

If you read this and you haven't seen The Pitt....Come on in, the water's fine.

Warnings: Angst; fluff; all that good stuff

Summary: For as amicable as the divorce had been, the two of you had problems. When Michael was stressed, he shut you out from the source of it, determined not to bring it home. But as hard as he tried, the strain and drain of his work hung on him. You'd wanted to be a safe space for him, but as the pressures of his job mounted, he'd never allowed you to be.

"Didn't think you'd be working today."

It's the most you've said beyond your answering the basics. He hasn't said anything beyond asking the routine questions. He'd had the good grace to school his expression when he'd asked about any medications (blood pressure, cholesterol, birth control), and you'd said no to all.

“We’re slammed. All hands on deck.”

“Yeah, I know.” You wince as he takes careful hold of your wrist, lowering himself onto the stool beside your hospital bed and getting a good look at the jagged cut stretching the length of your palm. 

"So you were replacing a lightbulb in the living room?"

"Uh-huh."

"What were you standing on?"

"...A book."

He shoots you a disbelieving look from beneath his lashes.

"...On top of another book."

A further tip of his brows, and you sigh, finally conceding, "On top of a cardboard box."

He looses a soft, almost grudging laugh as he looks back down at your hand.

"Surprised you didn't stand on the coffee table."

"It's rickety."

"But the carboard box-book combo was stable? What happened to the lightbulb?"

"I lost my balance, my grip tightened and uh...The lightbulb didn't like that."

"You hit your head on the way down?"

"No."

"Alright." He fishes into his pocket for a small flashlight, leaning in to get a closer look. You hold still as he diligently examines the wound.

"It broke pretty cleanly, I don't think there are any other bits in there. I was able to piece it back together—not to use, you know. Just to check."

He hums, giving a small nod. "Couple of stitches and then we'll get you on your way."

"Not gonna summon one of the ducklings for the demonstration?" You ask, unable to stand the relative quiet. "Dana says it's their first day."

"Hm? Oh," He shakes his head with a smile. "Far as I could tell, they were all occupied when I headed back here."

“How are they doing?”

“Well, we’ve got a fainter, a nicknamer, a high-fiver—Local anesthesia—little pinch, don’t look,” He warns, and you turn your head, wincing as the needle dips into your palm. “There we go…And uh, a kid who’s wearing a different pair of scrubs every time I see him.” 

“Fashion show?” 

“Unfortunate series of fluids.”

“Yikes.” 

“Mm.” 

You tentatively glance back down, watching him draw the needle through your palm.

“How are you doing besides that?” You press. 

“...You know.” 

But you don’t know. For as amicable as the divorce had been, the two of you had problems. When Michael was stressed, he shut you out from the source of it, determined not to bring it home. But as hard as he tried, the strain and drain of his work hung on him. You'd wanted to be a safe space for him, but as the pressures of his job mounted, he'd never allowed you to be.

You sit in quiet for a few moments, allowing him to zone in on his work as you let yourself just focus on him.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him in months, though not the first time you’ve spoken. You’ve exchanged the odd texts for holidays, birthdays. The last time you’d seen one another had been brief—hauling a box of things from your car to his car. It marked the official end to your divorce, your possessions and daily lives extricated entirely from one another (save for one of his hoodies, which you'd tucked into your closet and sworn up and down that you simply couldn't find).

But that hadn’t stopped the hurt or the ache of your loss. It hadn’t sapped the warmth, the comfort of the memories of your good days together. It hadn’t lessened what you knew about him, what you could tell from a look.  

"You need a haircut." You tease, tipping your head to get a better look at him. You just manage to see the way a smile tugs at his lips. You hesitate to add anything else, to keep him in a good mood, but you just can't help yourself.

"You're not sleeping," You accuse softly. Robby draws in a slow breath as he threads the needle through your skin again. 

"No," He admits. You wait for him to set the needle aside before you reach out, gently combing your fingers through his hair. His shoulders sag, head tipping into your hand as you gently run your nails down to the nape of his neck.

"What's goin' on, Mikey?" You murmur. His chin tips up to meet your eye, and your palm slides around to gently cup his cheek, thumb smoothing across his beard.   

“…You know what today is?” He asks.

“Adamson?”

“Yeah.”

“S’why I didn’t think you’d be in today.”

“So you stood on two books and a cardboard box to change a lightbulb today, just in case you needed to go to the ER so that you wouldn’t see me?”

“No. Purely coincidental. Besides,” You lean a little closer. “I like seeing you.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, brighter and wider than the last, and your stomach flutters with his admission:

“I like seeing you, too.”

“You two sure you’re divorced?”

The sound of Evans’ voice makes the two of you reel away from one another, your hand lifting from his cheek guiltily. She casts a mischievous smile between the two of you before nodding over her shoulder.

“We’ve got incoming—pileup on the I-79.”

“Be right there.”

Evans casts you one more cursory glance and adds, “See me before you leave, Mrs. R,” before turning, tugging the curtain closed behind her. You try to get a good look at Robby after she calls you that, but he’s up and moving before you can.

“Let’s get you bandaged up and on your way,” Robby pats your knee before stepping around the bed. “We’ll need you to come in for a wound check in a couple of days, make sure it’s coming along nicely.”

“…Can’t be a home visit?” You venture, glancing back toward him. You don’t trust yourself to meet his eye; you still can’t believe you asked it. But you haven’t gotten a good enough look at him, and you just want to know what’s going on—really going on.

You’re not sure it’ll work. He didn’t trust you with those feelings when you were his wife—why should he trust you with them now? 

“We need it on the record.”

It’s a diplomatic answer, and you’re certain that it’s all you’ll get. You nod a bit, watching as he neatly wraps the bandage. 

“You’ve still got tylenol extra strength in the house?” He asks. 

“Mhm.” 

“Take that as needed, up to—”

“1500 milligrams a day, I know.” 

“Still gotta say it.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

“There.” 

Robby looks up at you, his hands still wrapped warmly around yours. He draws his lower lip into his mouth, and for a moment, you’re certain that he’s going to say something else—but the curtain is drawn back again.

“Hey Robby, there’s a—Oh. Shit."

You close your eyes, fighting back your own curse before you turn your head, shooting the doctor a tight smile.

“Hey, Frank.” 

“Hey, Mrs. R. Am I interrupting—”

“Nope! I'm all set here. And you guys have incoming, so I should skedaddle.”

Robby lets go of your hand, scooching the stool back as you slide off of the bed, standing. 

“Nice to see you.” 

“Yeah, Frank, you, too.” You pat his shoulder with your good hand before turning to face Robby again. “I’m gonna head out.” 

“Take it easy with the hand. Rest it.”

“I will.”

“I mean it.” 

“Robby—” 

“I know you. You’ll get all cocky with the local anesthetic in your system and you’ll be in agony when it wears off. You drive yourself here?”

“Uber.”

“Good.” 

“Mhm.” You turn to the sandwich cart, eyeing the labels before fishing one out. “I’ll see you around.”

“You’re taking that, really?” 

“It’s for Earl,” You insist, taking a couple more steps back. "Get some rest, Robby."

“Yeah.” 

You let yourself get one last long look at him before you turn away, striding determinedly toward the exit. You just manage to skirt by Evans, taking advantage of the fact that she’s deep in conversation with one of the orderlies. You give the attendants at the front desk a quick wave before you pass down the rows of chairs, holding the sandwich out to Earl. His face splits with a wide grin as he takes it. 

“You’re the best, Mrs. R.”

“Take care’a yourself, Earl.”

“Hey, you, too!” 

-- 

You make it all the way into the parking lot before your phone buzzes with Robby’s message:  I can change that lightbulb when my shift ends

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; 

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ;  @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; 

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; 

@missswriter ; 

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen

 ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ;  @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

[aristocratic-otter]

It's been a few...mostly because I had so many chapters needing editing and posting that I didn't actually have much time to write! And, like many of you, I've been working on Valentines (still working on Valentines) (a few are gonna be late). I've got writing donethis week, though, so here goes:

Thank you to: @monbons, @thewholelemon, @nausikaaa, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @confused-bi-queer,

@larkral, @bookishbroadwayandblind,@best--dress, @j-nipper-95, @leithillustration,

 @rimeswithpurple, @roomwithanopenfire, @prettygoododds, @noblecorgi, @artsyunderstudy, for tagging me over the last couple of weeks.

The good news is, if I don't have sentences for it below, a chapter probably was posted in the last two weeks. With no further ado, here's a few sets of (probably about) six sentences.

From Stars, Flowers, and Children:

I thought it might take some searching; it’s been years, after all. It would have been unsurprising if Davy's corpse had been carried off in dozens of different pieces by local scavengers. 

But no. He’s right where we left him. 

All of the indestructible parts of him, anyway. Any fragments of clothing or flesh or organs have gone…he’s a pile of sun-bleached bones face down in the sand. A few metal bits like his belt buckle and some copper buttons are scattered amongst  the bones, but no soft parts remain.

From my Visitor Baz AU: 

Penny doesn’t understand why this bothers me so much. She doesn’t get it. Baz is just…indelible. Somehow, Watford isn’t Watford now that he’s gone. I don’t know how to be, without my sneering roommate tossing insults at me all the time. 

Fuck, I even sound pathetic to myself. 

I fold my elbows over my eyes and groan, long and loud. Fuck me, what am I going to do? And that’s when I hear him.

“Problems, Snow?”

 From CORB #1, Baby Mine with @argumentativeantitheticalg

Fuck, I’ve started to think of this situation as if it were going to be long term. I need to stop. I’ll just break my own heart. Simon has a life, a job. If I’m lucky, he’ll agree to weekend visitation with our daughter, once this mystery is solved. I’ll see him for a few minutes in passing as we exchange Abigail at the front door. 

My eyes are stinging. I need to change this train of thought now before I utterly humiliate myself. “When do you need to return to London?” I blurt. 

Oh, well done, Basilton. That’s absolutely changing the subject.

From CORB #2: The Stoves Come On At Night, with @ebbpettier

I’ve learned a few things from Vera, who’s nearly old enough to have served the Pitches when they lived here. She told me that the room I chose belonged to Mordelia’s brother who died young. Apparently, after he died, the Grimms kept the boy’s room as it was when he’d lived, like some sort of memorial. And their daughter has continued the tradition since the property descended to her. I guess that explains why the decor is simpler in my room. 

Maybe it should creep me out that my bedroom belonged to a dead kid, but it’s an old house. Probably every bedroom has belonged to someone who’s since died. And I’m not superstitious. 

Tags and air kisses to : @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed,  @fatalfangirl,

@melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist,  @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, \

@raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, \

@krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @nightimedreamersghost, @mooncello, @shrekgogurt,

@cosmicalart,  @theearlgreymage, @iamamythologicalcreature, @ileadacharmedlife, @thehoneyedhufflepuff,

@facewithoutheart,@skeedelvee, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @messofthejess, @alexalexinii, 

@hushed-chorus,  @blackberrysummerblog, @cutestkilla,@letraspal, @wellbelesbian,

@ic3-que3n, @emeryhalll, @ebbpettier, @argumentativeantitheticalg, @bookish-bogwitch,

@martsonmars, @whatevertheweather, and @youarenevertooold

[bridgyrose]

Fear was a strange emotion. Heart racing, blood almost freezing, the way Penny’s body could barely move as she stared face to face with an ursa, unable to get her body to obey any order she wanted to give it. Not that she remembered how she got here beyond a pain in her chest and then wishing she had one more chance to live her life. And now, here she was, feeling her heart race, her muscles tense, and the desire to do nothing more than survive.

“Leave her alone!” Yang yelled out. 

Penny turned out of the way just in time for Yang to slam her fist into the ursa, her body almost relaxing when she saw the familiar sight. As the grimm disintegrated in front of her, her knees finally gave out and she dropped to the ground, struggling to keep her breath. 

Yang knelt down next to her and placed a careful hand on her shoulder. “Everything okay sis? Its unlike you to freeze up like that.” 

“I-I am… fine,” Penny finally spoke once she was able to catch her breath. She gave a quick smile to Yang and stood up. “I do not know what came over me.” 

“You should be more careful. I thought dad told you not to leave the house without your weapon.” 

“I did not plan to go far, but I guess I ended up getting a bit farther than I wanted to while trying to figure out my semblance.” 

“Its okay if you dont know what your semblance is.” 

“But dad said you knew when you were younger.” 

“It was an accident that I found out that early.” Yang rubbed Penny’s back. “Even if you dont know your semblance now, that doesnt mean you cant be a huntress. All it means is that it’ll take time to figure it out. Who knows, maybe yours is a passive semblance.” 

“Yeah but… I…” Penny let out a soft sigh and turned around to hug Yang tightly. A few tears ran down her cheek that she wiped away as she started to feel overwhelmed by the memories and emotions that started to come to her. Her grip tightened around Yang before she relaxed and pulled away. “Do not have too much fun at Beacon without me, okay?” 

“You know I wont. But we should start getting home. Dad wants to take us out to Vale so I can grab a few more things before I head off in a month.” 

“I bet I can get back there faster than you.” 

Yang smirked. “Are you sure about that?” 

Penny nodded and started to race home. She remembered that Ruby had told her something important had happened this night, but couldnt remember what exactly it was. There was a dust shop and a present for Yang… enough she remembered that she could try to follow those footsteps. And then maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to find out where Ruby was. If she was here, that was. 

As she made it back to the house, she felt another rush of memories flood into her, almost stopping her in her tracks. She could remember the first day Taiyang picked up Zwei, going to Signal and being taught how to fight by Qrow, even getting help with making sure her weapon pack would work the way she wanted it. But even those memories felt like they were a world away from the one she remembered. 

Penny nearly fell into the door as she opened it, panting for breath, and fell to her knees just as Yang came in behind her. “S-see?” she said with a smile. “I-I told… you that I could beat you.” 

“Yeah… you still… can…” Yang said as she dropped onto the couch to catch her breath. “I thought I had you this time.” 

“Alright girls, go get changed before we go out,” Taiyang said as he placed his own work pack on the table. “We’ll go out for dinner first, and then we can go shopping for a few more things Yang will need before classes start-” 

“I was hoping I could go off on my own after dinner,” Penny interrupted once she caught her breath. “My order of dust came in and I need to pick up.” *And get a gift for Yang,* she thought as she stood up. “The dust shop is out of the way so I can go on my own and meet back with you both once you are finished with Yang.” 

“I dont know if you should go off on your own-” 

“You’re always telling her she needs to start doing things on her own, a trip to the dust shop shouldnt be too bad for her,” Yang pointed out. “Besides, its not like she’ll be completely alone either. We’ll still be close by.” 

“A-and I will keep my scroll on me!” Penny said as she gave Yang a thankful look for having her back. “That way if anything happens, I can call.” 

Taiyang sighed and nodded. “Alright, but call me if anything happens.” 

Penny smiled and rushed over to give him a hug. “Do not worry dad, I will be fine.” 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny adjusted the pack she wore on her back as she walked down the streets of Vale, still not sure what she was thinking about getting Yang. Getting her a plush to keep in her dorm sounded like a great idea, but the longer she thought about it, the less she knew what Yang would actually want for a plush. She wasnt into grimm as much as Penny was, and a lot of the plushes that Penny came across seemed to be more cutesy than she wanted to give as a gift. An action figure or two didnt sound like a bad plan, but then came the issue of space or where to place them. She let out a sigh and walked into the dust shop to take her mind off trying to find something for Yang. 

“Welcome to From Dust till Dawn,” the shopkeep said in almost a low grunt. 

Penny nodded and started to look around the shop until she made her way to the magazines. She paused as she picked one up that was placed backwards, staring at the Schnee icon as she felt a few tears roll down her cheeks. Weiss. Another name she remembered but was slowly losing why she knew it. Had to be someone important, someone close to Ruby. If she could find one of them-

“Hey kid” a man growled out as he pulled on her shoulder. “I said give me your money.” 

“Are you… robbing me?” Penny half said as she took a quick glance at the dust shop behind her. She hadnt realized she’d been that engrossed in the magazine to not notice anyone coming into the shop, much less with how noisy these men were with grabbing dust and breaking glass. 

“Yes!” the man said. 

Penny smirked and, in one swift motion, pulled two swords out of her pack, slamming the blunt ends into the man behind her. She winced as she heard the glass of the window break followed by another voice outside yell out. 

“What is taking so long?” a man with red hair said as climbed in through the window. “All you had to do was take the dust and-” he paused as he looked at Penny. “Oh great, a huntress.” 

The world almost seemed to slow down for Penny as her green eyes started to glow almost like they were L.E.Ds. She took a step back as images of everyone around her moved in various ways, almost as if she could see what actions everyone could take. Then, as if on instinct, she moved to block a few strikes with the blades in her hands. A few more blades came out of her pack when she pressed a button on the hilt of her left sword, moving each blade as if it was an extension of her own body to keep from getting hit. As the last of goons dropped, she pointed her sword at the man with red hair. “Stop before I-” 

“I dont think so,” he said as he aimed the end of his cane at Penny. “Now be a good little huntress and die.” 

Penny’s eyes widened as she watched a rocket come out of the cane. Without another thought, she lunged forward and swung her swords at it, sending it out the dust shop, taking cover from the explosion. As the dust settled, she picked herself up. “W-will you be okay if I go after them?” she asked the shopkeep. 

The shopkeep nodded. “I-I’ll be fine.” 

Penny smiled and put her swords back into her pack and ran down the street to chase after the dust thief. Her eyes caught him climbing up the side of a building and she ran after, trying to keep up. As she made it to the top of the building, she froze in her tracks as an airship pulled up to the side of the building. A woman with glowing amber eyes held the palm of her hand out to her as a fireball started to build up. She put her arms up in front of her to brace for the impact, looking away as the fireball was launched to her. As the heat of the flames around her died down, she opened her eyes to see a glyph protecting her and a huntress standing next to her. 

She put up a nervous smile as she spoke. “Thank you.” 

“You’re in a lot of trouble,” the huntress said with a glare. 

[egophiliac]

the lovers, reversed

(aka I'm still freaking out about Jou)

[front-facing-pokemon]