#i was originally going to draw her face but my friends told me to let it empty so it would be more simbolical

[myewt]

identity

[charmed-quill]

Burrow Bound// B.W x Reade Epilogue

authors note at end.

originally requested by @littlegreenteacup

summary: Y/N, an American half-blood witch newly arrived in Muggle London, stumbles into the warmth of the Weasley brothers after a serendipitous meeting in Diagon Alley. Drawn into their world, she finds herself at the Burrow more often than not. Meanwhile, Bill Weasley is learning to navigate life as a single father, relying on his mother’s help to care for Victoire. Though their worlds orbit each other, Y/N and Bill’s paths never seem to align—until one evening when fate finally draws them together. Will it be the start of a love story, or will they be left with nothing but heartache?

Last Chapter

word count: 650

5 years later

The bustling platform of 9 ¾ buzzed with the sounds of families saying goodbye, steam hissing from the scarlet train, and excited chatter from children eager for the year ahead. Y/N stood with her hand protectively resting on her rounded belly, her other hand clutching Bill’s tightly as they watched Victoire look around in excitement.

“Do we have everything?” Y/N asked for the third time, her voice tinged with nervous excitement. “Her robes, her wand, her potions kit—”

“She has everything, love,” Bill reassured her with a soft chuckle, squeezing her hand. “We’ve gone over the list more times than Professor McGonagall checks her schedules.”

Victoire rolled her eyes but smiled, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement. “Mum, I’m fine,” she said, her voice filled with both affection and exasperation. “I’ve got everything.”

Y/N knelt slightly, wincing as her growing belly made it a little harder than it used to be. She adjusted the clasp on Victoire’s cloak, brushing a stray curl from her face. “I know you do, sweetheart. I’m just—” She swallowed, her voice trembling. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Victoire’s confidence faltered for a moment, and she threw her arms around Y/N in a tight hug. “I’ll miss you too, Mum,” she murmured. “But I’ll write every week, I promise.”

“Every week,” Y/N echoed, blinking rapidly to hold back her tears. “And you’d better tell me everything—your classes, your friends, everything.”

“I will,” Victoire promised, her smile wide and reassuring. She turned to Bill, who crouched down to meet her eye level.

“You remember what I told you, right?” Bill asked, his voice calm and steady.

“Be brave and be kind,” Victoire said, nodding earnestly.

“That’s my girl,” Bill said, pulling her into a quick hug.

As the final call for boarding echoed through the platform, her curls bouncing as she hurried toward the train. She stopped at the door, turning to wave furiously. Y/N and Bill waved back, their smiles wide despite the ache of letting her go.

The train’s whistle blew, and the engine hissed as it began to pull away. Victoire leaned out of the window, waving until she was out of sight.

Y/N kept waving long after the train disappeared, her chest tightening with a mix of pride and sadness. When she finally lowered her hand, she blinked rapidly, her vision blurred by tears.

“Are you crying?” Bill asked, his tone teasing but affectionate, a soft smirk playing on his lips.

“No!” Y/N sniffled, dabbing at her cheeks. “It’s the pregnancy hormones. I’m fine.”

Bill laughed, pulling her into his side and pressing a kiss to her temple. “Of course, it’s the hormones,” he teased gently, though his own eyes were suspiciously glassy. “Not because you’re sending our little girl off to Hogwarts for the first time.”

Y/N tilted her head up to him, her lips curving into a smile despite her tears. “I mean, maybe a little. But mostly hormones.”

Bill laughed again, the sound deep and warm as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on,” he said, steering her gently toward the exit. “Let’s get you home before those hormones start making you cry about something else—like how many socks the baby will need.”

Y/N laughed, leaning into him as they walked off the platform together. “For the record, you can never have too many socks,” she said lightly, her hand brushing over her belly.

“Noted,” Bill replied, a smile tugging at his lips as he glanced back at the now-empty tracks. “Victoire’s going to have an amazing time.”

“She will,” Y/N agreed, her heart full as they stepped back onto the bustling muggle platformq “And so will we.”

With that, they Disapparated home, ready to face their next adventure together.

tagged: @navs-bhat @neenieweenie @buendiabebeta

a/n: Thank You 💕

Wow, where do I even begin? Writing this fic has been such an incredible journey, and I genuinely couldn’t have done it without all of you who read, liked, reblogged, commented, and sent me messages of encouragement along the way. Your excitement, your insights kept me going through all of this story.

A special thank you to my amazing mutual, @littlegreenteacup for requesting this fic in the first place and being one of its biggest supporters. Your vision for this story was perfect, and I hope I did it justice.

To everyone who stuck with me through Bill and Y/N’s ups and downs (and all that delicious tension 👀), thank you for letting me share this little slice of their world with you.

This story is as much yours as it is mine, and I hope it brought you the same joy and squeals of happiness it brought me while writing it.

You’re all the best, and I love you to the moon and back. 🖤✨

Love, MJ

p.s, keep an eye out for a bonus chapter coming out soon...

[burningcheese-merchant]

"Hair Care" - BurningCheese Short #6

I promised a "Burning Spice is snuck into the Golden Cheese Kingdom" story, and I've come to deliver. I also promised wholesomeness, which... I mean, I hope it comes across that way. These two have their own brand of "wholesome", I think lol.

Special shout-out to @cheesecakemermaid1048 for coming up with the original concept of "bonding w/ Burning Spice via brushing his hair" (although I did go an extra mile in my interpretation here lol). Thanks so much again for letting me use this as a writing prompt! I hope you enjoy it especially!

"Grrrr..."

"I already told you that giving me attitude won't change anything, Burning Spice."

"Would razing your palace to the ground change anything?"

"Leave behind even a single scratch on a single one of my walls or columns, and I shall impale you with a thousand earthen spears on the spot."

"Do you promise?"

"It's inevitable."

"Even better, then."

Golden Cheese quickly shot him a pointed glare over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the hallway ahead of them. Completely empty, thank goodness; no one traversed this particular one at this hour of the day, she remembered. Or... they didn't tend to. Usually.

... It was a gamble she knows Mozzarella would've taken, had she been in her place. Calling for the palace to be temporarily emptied and closed would have been too easy, too simple. Daring to challenge one's own understanding of time and people's habits was a far greater risk, with a far more satisfying reward. Guaranteed victories are boring, after all.

Mozzarella wasn't there with them then, but Golden Cheese nevertheless found herself smiling and thanking her old friend for inspiring her in such a way.

Burning Spice, meanwhile, was currently the most miserable man on the face of the earth, and has been since Golden Cheese had the nerve to dictate where she would be taking him today (and instead of having their scheduled duel, as well, to add insult to injury). His petulant stomps left charred imprints all throughout the desert sands where they reunited - she demanded he control himself when they made it to her kingdom, so as not to draw attention and to not ruin her precious walkways - and echoed through the glittering halls and corridors as she dragged him along. How they haven't been spotted by any of her countless little subjects until now, he did not know, nor did he really care. He was frustrated enough that he almost preferred them being caught then whatever fresh hell she had in store for him in the rapidly approaching future.

So irritated was he, that he couldn't even bring himself to enjoy the fact that they were holding hands.

She eventually led him through some fancy doorway - past sky blue curtains and an archway and columns decorated with intricate carvings - and waiting for them beyond it was their promised destination: a fairly large and airy room with a great pool at the very center, with gold and white lilies dotting its calm surface and reeds sprouting in its corners. Surrounding it was an array of ornate stone and wooden tables, towel racks, smaller pools and individual baths, as well as beautifully carved shelves that seemed to be stocked with soaps, oils and incense. The afternoon sun shone through a massive hole in the ceiling, bathing much of the room in a warm, bright, golden light.

Burning Spice observed it all with a look of cranky disinterest. "A bath, huh?" His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "If you wanted to see me naked, little bird, all you had to do was ask."

"A spa, Burning Spice," Golden Cheese retorted. "This is the primary room for rest and relaxation here within my palace. My attendants are free to come in and put their minds and bodies at ease while they're on break, or after they've been relieved of their duties. They're also welcome to bring their friends and families, so long as they ask for permission first."

"'Ask for permission?' Pfft." A low chuckle rumbled deep within his throat. "How generous. How... soft. Of you AND them."

"It's civilized. That is what civilized behavior is like, Burning Spice. As we both know you've long since forgotten."

"'Civilized behavior'... heh. You think I care about such a pretentious, meaningless thing?"

"No, and it's evident by your appearance. Moreso than even the sun shining in the sky on a desert morning, in fact."

"Oh, don't pretend you don't enjoy seeing me- huh?!"

She didn't wait for him to finish his flirty diatribe and began dragging him over to one of those little baths, tightening her grip on his hand enough to earn an honest wince. When they reached it, she used her spear to nudge a nearby chair over, then whipped around, grabbed Burning Spice by the shoulders, and forced him down onto it before he could protest.

"Wait here a moment," she told him. "Let me go grab what we need."

"Who's 'we'?" he called after her indignantly as she walked off. No use; she moved along as if he'd never spoken in the first place.

To tide himself over and pass the time - that one minute that bore the weight and ache of an eternity - he made a game of letting his eyes go back and forth between scanning the room more closely and drinking in the sight of Golden Cheese's alluring backside as she gathered supplies from a shelf.

She seemed to sense his enamored gaze right away, though, and bristled accordingly. "Keep your eyes to yourself," she snapped at him without turning around.

"Or else what?" he fired back with a smirk, still raking his eyes up and down her body without remorse. "I'm already being punished, am I not? Now you can punish me with all this nonsense for a REAL reason."

"Clearly you aren't," she said as she made her way back to him, a towel hanging from one arm, and a bottle and hairbrush in each hand, "if you still feel bold enough to behave like this."

"But of course I do. How can I not, with such a pretty bird perched in front of me? Only the blind would ignore such beauty, do you not agree?"

She set the supplies down with a huff, her cheeks flushing pink at his words. "Well then, let's see if you still feel that way after we're done."

His flirtatious smile evaporated as she gathered all of his long, wild hair into her arms and narrowed her eyes at it. "Honestly, Burning Spice," she said, "how do you tolerate this... this mess?"

"By ignoring it," he said flatly. "So long as it isn't cut off, then I don't give a damn what happens to it otherwise."

"Well, I'm not tolerating this barbarism any longer. If you won't do anything about it, then I will."

"I could just get up and sit in the bath myself, you know." That suggestive look made a brief return. "And you could join me, if you wanted."

"I'd sooner join you in Hell," she said.

With that, she tossed his hair into the bath, watching as it floated and waved along the water's clear surface. She reached for the bottle, stowed away underneath the chair for safekeeping; the smell of eucalyptus wafted through the air as she popped it open and poured its contents into the water, turning it a pale green.

"What the hell is that?" Burning Spice asked, making a face as he sniffed at the air.

"Soap, you filthy animal," she snapped. "Shampoo and conditioner mixed into one solution. This particular bottle is from a very high-quality brand that is well-liked in my kingdom. I suggest you act grateful."

"Me, grateful? For what? For you kidnapping me and forcing me to endure a... a spa day that I wouldn't ask for in a million years?"

"Precisely," she said, staring down at him with a confident smile.

...So enchanting did Burning Spice find that smile of hers, that he softened just enough to let her work without further resistance.

She worked slowly but deliberately, the calm focus written on her features and the deft movement of her hands betraying her years of experience. His hair was thick and unkempt, practically an untamed jungle; so desperate for love and care that it almost seemed to seek her out on purpose, jet black tendrils creeping and coiling around her fingers and wrists as soon as her hands touched the water.

"When was the last time you even brushed your hair? These knots are atrocious."

He didn't answer her right away, instead scowling and shifting uncomfortably in his seat as she tugged on the strands closer to his scalp. "What does that matter?" he eventually scoffed. "Fussing over one's appearance is a complete waste of time, anyway."

"One's appearance is a cornerstone of one's overall well-being," she countered. "In my kingdom, cleanliness is seen as a form of godliness. It's all a matter of pride, of confidence, of proper self-esteem. Always look your best, always put your best foot forward, and others will be encouraged to see the best in you."

"You think taking a bath makes you a god? HA! Such foolish arrogance- OW!"

"Oh, stop it," Golden Cheese chided him as she pulled on and unraveled a particularly terrible knot. "To think you'd be such a big baby about something so trivial! If I'd known this while we were still enemies, I would've gone ahead and acted like a baby myself, and spent all of our battles pulling on your hair to make you cry."

He grunted in frustration, staring daggers at her as she freed the last remaining strands from that dreaded knot. She ignored him and continued on undeterred.

When she finished the first lather and rinse, working her way up to the top of his head and back down again, she shook her head. "Honestly, Burning Spice," she sighed. "I'm disappointed in you. Even a brute ought to take proper care of himself. How have you allowed this to stand for so long?"

"Because it doesn't matter to me at all," he muttered. "I'll give you that answer as many times as I need to, to get it through your pretty head."

"Of course it matters," she said, her eyes narrowing in annoyance again. "How can you even say that? Do you not hold yourself in any high esteem at all?"

"No."

She stopped, the wad of hair she'd been tending to now sitting limp in her hands. She looked at him in genuine shock - and he returned her look with one of... not quite anger, no. He was not angry. What she saw on his face, in his eyes, was... resignation, tinged with bitterness.

An awkward silence hung over them both before Golden Cheese cleared her throat. "Well, then," she said slowly, "If you can't be bothered to take care of yourself... then I shall do it for you. Alright?"

He softened again, a glimmer of pleasant surprise shining in his eyes. The silence quickly returned, right after Golden Cheese herself returned to her work... but it felt lighter this time.

Soon enough, she was quietly tapping on his shoulder. He understood what she wanted, no explanation necessary, and he slowly lifted his head up, sitting up straight once again. She gathered his hair in her arms and wrung it all out the best she could, then lifted it out of the bath, letting it fall and cling to his back. The soft pitter-patter of water droplets dripping from rogue strands of hair onto the floor filled their ears.

The silence otherwise persisted as Golden Cheese dried Burning Spice's hair with the towel she'd tucked away beneath the chair. He sat still, arms crossed, and neither said nor did anything to disturb her efforts, much to her continued surprise.

Soon enough, she traded the towel in for the hairbrush and quickly set about combing through those still-unruly locks. "It really is a shame, you know," she murmured. "You have gorgeous hair. You shouldn't treat it so poorly."

"Hmph..." He shrugged. "Whatever."

"I mean it, Burning Spice." She combed through another knot - more carefully than she'd done to the others in the bath, out of a newfound sense of concern for his comfort. "Even animals groom themselves better than you. I know you care enough to at least bathe, but there's more to self-care than just that."

"I bathe. I eat. I sleep. Those things are enough to keep me alive, are they not? I don't need anything else."

"They're enough to survive, yes..." She paused. "But... not to live, I don't think."

"You think bathing makes you a god," he muttered. "Of course you would say that."

She set the hairbrush aside for a moment and placed her hands on his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze. Instantly - perhaps instinctively - he leaned back, further into her grasp. Silently reveling in her touch.

"Burning Spice..." She sighed softly. "I have long since vanquished you. You're no longer a threat to this world." She hesitated, searching her mind for the right words to say next. "You... you can't hurt anyone anymore. Not on my watch. Perhaps... it's time you included yourself there, as well."

At that, he tensed, but still said nothing. She pulled her hands away (did she sense... disappointment from him when she did so?) and grabbed the hairbrush again, once more returning to grooming the man in front of her. She tried her best to be efficient, but still gentle; combing through each and every lock, more eager than ever to leave them looking better than they did before.

She took longer than she probably should have. (Perhaps she'd started allowing herself to enjoy how... soft and luxurious his hair was.) But even so, when she was finally done, she set the hairbrush down again and circled around to the front.

"There," she said. "What do you think?"

Burning Spice ran a quick hand through his hair and gave her a nod. "More pleasant than before."

"Wonderful." She beamed at him. "I'm glad."

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of that bright, warm smile. It stole all of the light in the room. It outshined the sun itself.

If this was what it took get her to look at him like that, then Burning Spice would gladly let her fuss over his appearance every single day for the rest of his life.

"Now, then..." She clapped her hands together, her eyes now glinting with mischief. "How about we take care of your wardrobe next?"

"My what?!"

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

What GC said about cleanliness was something Ancient Egyptians actually believed. They were very, very fussy about hygiene and legitimately thought that cleanliness was godliness. They didn't have spas or bathhouses or the like, though (not before the Greeks and Romans stopped by), they usually just bathed in the Nile. They used something called natron (it's like a salt mixture you get from dry lake beds, tastes like baking soda) as soap and shampoo. There's your history lesson for the day. You're welcome. I have more if you're interested.

And... well. I'm sure it's common knowledge that depressed people can start really letting themselves go if it gets bad enough. I don't really get the impression that Burning Spice is happy, even with that Joker smile he's got on and how much he enjoys trashing everything... I think all the Beasts are plagued with a certain melancholy, really. They're handling it entirely incorrectly, but even so. (And I think the Ancients can and should be the ones to help them overcome that. They're just the right ones for the job, in my opinion. But that's probably just me trying to bait you all into asking me about my Reformed Beasts AU again lol)

[yoonia]

🖋️ I just finished Blooming Wallflowers and felt so sad that it ended so soon! Can we have a snippet of what happens after? are they going to continue seeing each other? will OC's daughter get to be closer to Mista Joonie? 🥺🥺 I want to see them hang out again in a less stressful time (because poor OC always stressing!). it would be cute to have Joon helping her out with the girls again. he can finally have a taste of OC's homecooked meal and she gets to make him dinner for once. that'll be sweet. I just love the concept of home date night 🥺

💌 for my love letter, I just want to say happy belated birthday 🥳 I've been following you for a long time. even if I'm no longer around much on Tumblr, I still come back from time to time and wonder what you'll be sharing this time. It's always exciting to find out that you post something new. your stories always feel so comforting, even when they are the most heart-wrenching angst ever! Your blog and your presence have always felt so positive too. just like how you are creating this lovely event 🥺 I think that's the reason why I still stick around no matter how much negativity has grown on Tumblr, because I know there's at least one writer here who still spreads positivity and exudes a comforting aura just by being here (and that's you!)

I love how you touch on real life issues and how you present them in your stories. even in the short ones, we get to feel the character growing through your fic and it feels really fulfilling to experience it 💜

For Blooming Wallflowers, I loved how you wrote the characters. even the daughters. often fanfics aren't so accurate when it comes to writing children (how they speak, behave, etc) yet you always make these characters feel so real, and I love that 💜🥺

Thank you for sharing your talent with us. I hope you have a wonderful birthday 🎂

Thank you so much for reading Blooming Wallflowers! I'm glad you enjoyed the story and are loving the characters. Your idea made me think of cute moments between Joon, OC, and the girls, but as always, my mind think otherwise the moment I began writing the ficlet haha. Anyway, enjoy your moodboard and this "little" snippet, love!

— title: Dinner with Mista Joonie | pairings: Namjoon x female reader| genre: firefighter!Namjoon, single mom!reader, mature, friends with benefits!au | word count: 1,150 words — summary | Namjoon comes to join you and the girls for dinner.  — ratings & warnings | +18 / M for mature; allusion of a one-night stand, memories of hooking up, sexual tension, implied smut scene: public sex, kitchen sex, morning after sex, food play, implied oral sex. 

— original: Blooming Wallflowers by @yoonia — fic drop date: Oct 28th, 2024 — song companion: sleepless

“You should’ve let me help.” 

His deep voice draws a smile to your face, yet you make no move to turn around. Not even when you can feel him approaching you from behind. 

“You’re doing enough to help already,” you answer him as you rinse the last of the dinner plates under the running water. A large hand takes the plates out of your hand right as you are about to slip them into the dishwasher, taking over your work. 

“I don’t see how I’m helping,” Namjoon says as he continues setting the dishwasher to do its work so you can get to rest. 

You wipe your hands dry using the kitchen towel before handing it to him. “For one, you took my distractions away from me,” you answer with a whisper, nodding towards the living room where your girls are busy flipping between their assortments of storybooks. “What did you tell them so you could escape?” 

Namjoon grins. “Hana asked me to read them a story before leaving. I told them to pick a book each that I could read for them.” 

Shaking your head, you let out a soft chuckle. “You shouldn’t fall for their puppy eyes. You were only invited to join dinner, not to babysit the girls.” 

“It’s well deserved. They’ve been so proud about helping their Mom prepare the delightful dinner tonight,” Namjoon says, shrugging. He moves to rest his hips against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms over his chest, drawing your eyes towards his toned muscles, his t-shirt straining over them, and a flutter rising in your chest. “Thank you for inviting me, by the way.” 

The damn flutter goes wild when he says this with a smile. A dimple appears. Your skin grows warm. “It was a pleasure. I’m just honouring a promise I made to you.” 

It truly was. Ever since the night at the supermarket, you have wanted to cook for him. Imagining him eating TV dinner after working to save people’s lives—or pets, maybe?—makes you feel bad.

But seeing him tonight at dinner was a whole other matter.

You had expected it to be awkward. A single man sitting with a single mother and her two kids shouldn’t have seemed so normal. And yet, he blended in so nicely at the table. He even didn’t blink an eye every time any of the girls left vying for his attention. From bragging about their roles in helping you set up dinner, to showing off their artwork from today’s class. Even Suzy came out of her shell and chatted with Namjoon, asking him about his job and if firefighters really do get called to take kittens down from trees. 

“Well, I’m honouring the meal I received tonight. Step one is pleasing the princesses over there with good storytelling.” 

Shaking your head, you turn back to the kitchen sink to wipe down the mess. “I swear you’re too good at this.” 

Namjoon comes to you with a deep chuckle, surprising you when he wraps his arms around you from behind. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him while looking over his shoulder, afraid that your girls would catch their special guest hugging their mother. 

“They’re still busy, don’t worry,” he whispers to your ear, deep voice vibrating from his throat, and those harmless flutters travel down south, settling right between your legs. 

“Since you said that I’ve done good—” he whispers, his lips brushing at your skin. “Does that mean you’ll finally agree to go on a date with me? I told you, I’m okay if we’re out on a weekday. I’m not always on night shift, and might be working on the weekend anyway.” 

You swallow down your words and the tightness in your chest. You promised yourself that the night you spent with him on your bed would be the only time. With so many things going on in your life, this would be the wrong time for you to start anything. Not even with the first hot guy who managed to catch your eye. 

But Namjoon has been insistent. Exchanging numbers had given him the chance to text and call regularly, from catching up with your day, to flirting, and often ends with him asking for a date, or a quick hook-up, a quick repeat of your first night. Yet you have been resilient so far in refusing him.

Some part of you have been expecting that he would eventually give up and move on. Another part of you has always known that you will regret everything if you ever let it happen. While the rest keeps reminding you that he doesn’t deserve to be pulled into your mess, even if you really, really like him. 

Feigning your disinterest seems to be futile. But then again, immediately continuing your hookup the next morning after you first brought him to your bed during the morning after breakfast might have sent a different message. Because having him finally have a taste of you on the kitchen counter that morning, with him lathering maple syrup on your bare breasts to lick off of your skin instead of pouring them on his pancake, was not the right way to show each other that there was no passion between you once the alcohol wore off. 

But, maybe, just maybe, you have always known what that would do to a man who is so persistent in his chase like Namjoon does. 

“Will this Wednesday be good?” you find yourself asking once the fight leaves your body. “I’ll be off work early and it’s my Mom’s day to bring the girls to her shop.” 

It’s too easy to give in, after all. And you are surprised to find how quickly the weight is lifted from your shoulders once you stop denying your feelings. 

You can feel his smile on your skin as he presses a kiss on the side of your neck. A promise. It draws a shudder through your body when you are reminded of what those lips on your skin did to you last time. “That’s my day off. So it’s perfect.” 

You open your mouth, ready to turn to face him, when Hana’s voice calls out, 

“Mista Joonie!” she yells from the living room, and both of you are quick to separate, right as your little girl comes barrelling into the kitchen with her books. “I found my book!” 

Chuckling softly, Namjoon steals a quick peck on your cheek before stepping away. “Duty calls,” he says with a wink, and off he goes to follow Hana back to the living room. 

You watch their receding back as they leave you in the kitchen, smiling to yourself as you watch Namjoon listening with rapt attention as your youngest blabber on about her favourite book and how her sister had chosen something just as good for them to read together.  

Thank you for your sweet words. your message really means the world to me. And thank you for following me and staying with me for so long. I wouldn't still be here if not for readers like yourself who has been here with me.

Here's my little gift for you 💜

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: dia’s birthday bash 2024 ⇝ closed!

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: 𝓅𝓉 1

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender!Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 3)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re an artist that fell in love with a mysterious boy right before college. Then he left without any way to contact him. Decades later you’re an artist/bartender and you’re surprised to see who comes walking through the door.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none that I can think of.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I have no idea who actually did the cover art for The Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns and Emperor of Thorns by Mark Lawrence, the comic illustrations of the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson, or Cinder by Marissa Meyer. But I loved the artwork for the cover art and illustrations, so they deserve all the credit for their creativity. ((The artwork and references to the books is just to use to build Y/N’s portfolio, I do not own any of the artworks.))

It wasn’t easy being an artist. And it didn’t help that you seemed to be a starving artist at that. Everything seemed to have been done already. You supposed that your creative mind wasn’t as unique as you originally thought it would be.

You had countless sketchbooks in your home, just on one of your many bookshelves, purely dedicated to the sketchbooks you’ve had over the years. You’ve been sketching and drawing for as long as you can remember. You picked up on using water color and oil pastels sometime in high school when you were being experimental with your styles. But over the years you found that your luck expanding on your career was sort of a fifty fifty shot.

When someone hadn’t commissioned you to paint a wall of theirs, or if you weren’t working on a cover for some author - which was also another rare opportunity - You spent your time working at a bar in Wisconsin. It was some way to make some money after all, plus you did get to meet some pretty interesting people.

As for tonight, it was just another Thursday night for you and you were on your break. With that being said, you had your sketchbook out and you were sketching yet again.

Lately, in your personal sketchbook, you would draw the familiar face of a man you used to know. One that probably didn’t even remember your name, but you’d always remember his. You’d always remember his beautiful eyes that reminded you of the green forest, or the way his smile would light up any room he’d step into. You could remember the smell of his leather jacket, or the way that unusual pendant looked a little too good around his neck. You could still remember the sound of his laugh, or the flirtatious little tone and his mischievous smirk. He was a man you knew you could never forget, even after all these years.

“Drawing that mystery man of yours again, Y/N?” A work friend of yours named Danielle asked.

You glanced up at her while she adjusted her glasses and sat in front of you, “He’s no mystery.. just a memory.”

“You know, if you really can’t forget about him then maybe you should look for him.” She suggested and you shook your head.

“That’s not possible. Even when we first met during the summer before my freshman year of college, he was always traveling around with his father. It was a part of his career. And if anything, the guy’s still going it. They always traveled around the country.” You explained and Danielle pouted a little.

“You mean you can’t even track down what business it was? Not even by phone number or anything? Some company they ran.” She said and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Did he even tell you what kind of business he was a part of?” You shook your head.

“No… he was really secretive and he always told me he didn’t want to freak me out. A part of me wonders if he didn’t trust me. Then after like two weeks together he ghosted me.” You admitted.

“And you’re still obsessing over him? Come on, you’ve really got to let it go. If he was that much of a douche to ghost you and if he didn’t even leave you a way to contact him, then you have got to move on.” Danielle told you and you knew deep down she was right.

You looked down at the picture again of your ‘mystery man’ as Danielle liked to call him. Just as you were about to put the pencil to your paper once more, Danielle’s hand got in the way and she dragged the book across the table and rotated it so she could take a look at your work.

“Okay, this guy can’t actually be real. No one is that attractive.” She said with a chuckle before she looked up at you once more.

“So what did you say his name was again?” She asked as she handed you the sketchbook again.

“Dean… Dean Winchester.”

“Dean… Not a bad name I guess. Better than like Brad or something.” She laughed.

“Any chance that he’s a reader? Maybe he’s seen your cover art on some books.” You shook your head.

“No, he’s not much of a reader. His brother is a reader though so.. maybe? Although who knows if Sam would read any of the books I’ve done the artwork for.” You shrugged, unsure if Sam read any fantasy novels or science fiction.

“His brother’s name is Sam? That’s a little anticlimactic isn’t it? Is it short for something?”

“I don’t think it’s anticlimactic. Simplistic. And no, I don’t think it’s short for anything, but I never really asked Dean about it. Never met Sam.”

“Hey! Y/N! Danielle! Y’all can’t leave me by myself, I just got here!” A second voice said and that was your other friend, Callie. She had a bit of a southern twang in her voice that was definitely different compared to your other coworkers.

You and Danielle both laughed and you got up from your seat. You closed your sketchbook and went back to the back of the bar to put your sketchbook in your backpack. Then you began to resume your shift. The sooner the night was over with, the sooner you could go home and maybe check your emails and see if anyone has reached out to you for any projects.

The next several hours went by and it was closing time at the bar. You walked out of the bar with the two coworkers.

“Have you two heard the news yet about the Nelson’s wife?” Callie asked and you glanced over at her, brow arched upward.

“No. I didn’t even know something happened.” You said.

“Well apparently when Mr. Nelson came home last night, his door was opened up and there were some kind of freaky claw marks on the door. When the boss went inside he saw that his wife’s guts were literally outside of her body. But you wanna know the weird thing of it all?”

“There’s a weird part? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better!” You asked.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Callie replied, not finding your sarcasm amusing at the moment.

“The weirdest part was that her heart was missing. No weapon was found, no evidence of some kind of fur if it really was an animal attack. The police have searched the place top to bottom to find any clues or evidence of an animal attack. But honestly I’m surprised the bar was even opened tonight.” Callie continued.

“That explains why I hadn’t seen the boss tonight. He must be going through a lot. I couldn’t imagine losing my boyfriend in such a horrific way… and to actually see his wife like that? I can’t imagine.” Danielle said and you frowned a little.

As difficult as it was to learn about the loss of your boss’ wife, you didn’t think that your boss would be missing that much. The Mrs. didn’t exactly have a great reputation after all. She was a bit of the town harlot to put it lightly. It was common knowledge that she had been cheating on her husband for the past three years with several men.

“How is Mr. Nelson taking it?” You asked.

“Well as far as I know he’s been at the sheriff’s office all day for an interrogation. You know how it is, always suspecting the spouse first. I don’t know if he’s actually had the time to really mourn.” Callie replied.

“Well… surely it’s just some freakish accident. It couldn’t possibly happen again. The same animal wouldn’t strike the same town twice, right?” You said.

“I wouldn’t think so.” Callie said.

“Well just incase that animal is still around… make sure you get home safe! Why don’t we create a group text now just to make sure we all get home okay.” Danielle suggested.

“Honestly… that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” You said and pulled out your phone.

Once the three of you were on the group chat, you split off into your different vehicles to go home. You made it to your apartment and shut the door behind you. You tossed your bag on the couch before you plopped on the furniture, then you reached for the remote and turned on the television.

There wasn’t anything good on TV so you changed the channel to Boomerang and watched some cartoons. They were playing the old episodes of Scooby-Doo and you smiled to yourself. You hadn’t watched this show in years and you felt nostalgic watching it. Then your mind wandered off to the old days. You started to think about the summer with Dean.

You shook your head, deciding that Danielle was right and you really should forget about Dean. It’s been years and you never saw Dean again after the best two weeks of your life. It wasn’t worth thinking about. So you grabbed your computer and checked some emails to see if anyone’s reached out.

Evidently there was an email for some author named Marissa Meyer. She was emailing you to compliment your illustrations for James Patterson’s Maximum Ride comics and for the cover art of some other books. Honestly you were surprised. She was writing to see if you’d be willing to do some cover art for one of her books. She emailed you the plot of whatever story this would be and she said the title she planned was Cinder. It seemed to be an interesting plot so you started typing out the response, letting the author know you’d be willing to make the cover art and that you just needed a deadline for it.

Shortly after you sent the email, you started looking at some inspiration photos on Google and Pinterest and that was when your phone started ringing. When you glanced down, you saw that it was a group call with Danielle and Callie. You smiled and you answered the phone before you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Oh good, you answered!” Danielle exclaimed on the other line and you chuckled.

“Don’t worry, no animals have broken in to attack me yet.” You clarified and Callie laughed.

“See, I told you there was nothing for you to worry about. She’s probably getting ready to draw something and you broke her concentration.” Callie said and you hummed a little.

“Haven’t started just yet. Though about water coloring though.” You admitted since it had been a while since you’d used that medium.

“Well next time send a text! That was the whole reason why we made the group chat, remember?” Danielle continued and you grinned.

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m alright, and I’m glad both of you are alright too.” You insisted.

“Are both of you working tomorrow night?” You asked.

“I know I am.” Danielle replied with a little bit of an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not. I’ve got the rest of the week off.” Callie spoke up.

“The whole week? So we’ll see you when, Monday?” You asked.

“Yep. Needed a little me time and what perfect time would that be than having the weekend all to yourself?” She said.

“What about Dylan?” Danielle asked, referring to Callie’s boyfriend.

“He said he was… busy with something.” Callie said.

“You know, Danielle, you and Chris may like this one restaurant on South drive.” Callie said, talking about Danielle’s boyfriend and you felt like the odd one out, not having gone on a date in about three years.

“I’ll let the two of you talk about your boyfriends and your little date ideas.” You said and you were about to hang up before the both of them started talking to you to not hang up.

“Woah woah woah! Why don’t we get you hooked up with someone?” Callie asked.

“Yeah, that would be fun! I mean it’s been a while so what’s the harm in it? We can take you to the bar after work this Saturday night.”

You arched a brow before you looked at your bag that still had the sketchbook with the pictures of Dean in it. You supposed maybe going out this weekend maybe help you get over the memory. Dean was more of a phantom of that summer anyway.

“I suppose that could work. I get off at six. I can get home and get ready by seven or something.” You replied.

“Oh good! Maybe on break tomorrow you and I can go looking for some cute dresses for you to wear!” You cringed at Danielle’s words and you used your free hand to rub the back of your neck.

“Great.” You muttered with nervous laughter.

“Hang on, guys. I have to go. Dylan is calling me.” Callie groaned with some sort of annoyance in her tone and you wondered if everything was alright. However before you asked, she hung up.

“Wonder if she’s alright.” You said since Danielle was on the other line.

“Honestly I think she and Dylan have been in a bit of a rough patch recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if they break up by the end of the month.” She sighed.

“Rough patch? What’s been going on?”

“Well from what Callie’s ranted about, Dylan is developing some trust issues ever since she told him she didn’t want to live together.”

“What? They’ve only been dating for like a month and he wanted to move in?”

“Something like that…”

“Well you’re being awfully gracious for giving them the end of the month to end things. I’ll give them a week and a half if that.” You chuckled.

“You never know. Anyway, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow?” Danielle said.

“I’ll be there.”

Dean rubbed the back of his head as he walked down the stairs. Then he tied the strap of his robe around his waist as he made his way into the library just to see Sam reading a book. Not much of a surprise there. But this time it didn’t seem like it was a research book in his hands.

“Whatcha got there?” Dean asked, hearing his brother hum in response.

“It’s a fantasy series by Mark Lawrence. I’m reading the second one called King of Thorns.” Sam spoke.

“I didn’t exactly take you to be a fantasy ready. Always thought of you as more of a realist.” Dean admitted as he sat down across from his brother before he moved the laptop across the table. Then Dean opened it up so he could see if there was any new cases that sounded like his and Sam’s thing.

“Charlie recommended the book to me. Said that it was pretty good. Like it’s not Lord of the Rings good or Harry Potter good, but she thought it was worth the read nonetheless.” Sam said.

Dean hummed as he looked over at the book again and he caught a glimpse of the front cover, “Cover art’s pretty good.”

“Yeah… Charlie said the artist has done quite a little bit. She’d done the cover art of this trilogy and the illustrations for some sort of comic series based off some YA science fiction books. I think her name is.. oh hang on I think her name might be in the book.” Sam said as he flipped to the back.

“Oh here it is. Cover artist, Y/N L/N.”

Dean’s gaze shot from the book in Sam’s hand to Sam right after he read the name. That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. Felt like centuries really.

“Let me see that. I want to get a better look at the cover.” Dean said and Sam put his bookmark between the pages and handed the book to him.

As Dean looked at the cover, he admired the work. He suddenly began to recall that summer when he was a couple decades younger. Still fresh and when John was still around. He remembered meeting this beautiful girl in Wisconsin. You, in fact.

That was the best two weeks of his entire life. He remembered how great of an artist you were, how much he loved looking through the sketchbooks you showed him. He remembered you telling him way back when that you wanted to be an artist. Seems like you’ve come quite a ways if you’ve done some illustrations and some book covers.

“Has this artist done anything else?” Dean asked curiously.

“Since when were you interested in art?” Sam asked with a smirk as he leaned in, his arms folded in front of him on the table. Then the look of realization went across his face.

“Wait… Y/N. Isn’t that the girl from-“

“Wisconsin? Yeah.” Dean said and he chuckled.

“Honestly the best summer I’ve ever had.” Dean admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever go back to visit her? Is she a hunter? Maybe she could help us on some hunt sometime.” Sam said, trying to be encouraging but Dean shook his head a little.

“No, she wasn’t a hunter. In fact she was far from it. When I met her, she hadn’t even started college yet. Just graduated high school. She had no idea of the darkness in the world that we deal with and well… I wanted to spare her from it.” He said.

“Sounds like you had it bad. Dad wondered why it took you two weeks to end the case. He said it was awful long for you.” Sam smirked.

“Honestly, yeah. I did. if I wasn’t a hunter, I might have stayed. Maybe even go to summer school or work as a mechanic there to make a living just to stick around while she was on her campus. She was a sweet girl but I knew if I stayed, monsters would come and I didn’t want her exposed to that kind of shit just because I stayed around. I finished the case in a week but I stayed the extra week before I had to decide to move on.” Dean continued.

“Do you ever regret it?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, I don’t think she would even remember me.” Dean replied and handed the book to Sam yet again. Sam took it and set it down on the table beside him.

“I think she’d remember… anyway, as far as I know she’s just illustrated for that series and the covers for this series.” Sam said but he pulled out his phone to search your name.

“Here’s something… She’s painted some walls in the local elementary school building as well as a pediatrician’s office. But honestly I think that’s the only commissions she’s had. Other than that, based off her social media she’s just working in a bar.”

“A bartender? A girl of her talent should be working for some comic company. Maybe even character designing for some animation studio.” Dean said with a bit of surprise.

“Well, sometimes people aren’t always that lucky in life. But I agree with you, she is good.” Sam sighed as he closed out his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Then he turned his attention back to Dean who was looking back at the computer screen in front of him.

“Find anything worth while?” He asked his older brother.

“Well speaking of Wisconsin…. Turns out some bar owner’s wife was found dead. Police are calling it an animal attack but there wasn’t any evidence of an animal left behind. Then again there wasn’t exactly any evidence of humans either because apparently, intestines were outside the poor woman’s body and her heart was missing.” He said.

“So… werewolf maybe?” Sam suggested.

“That’s my first thought. We might as well head that way and check it out for ourselves.” Dean said and Sam nodded before Dean decided to get up so he could take a shower and get dressed before going on the hunt.

When Dean made it into his room, he decided that’s before he’d get dressed he’d look for something.

Honestly he wasn’t even sure if he still had this amongst his memorabilia. He didn’t exactly carry ugh outside of his pictures of his parents, Bobby and Sam and himself when they were younger. But when Dean opened up the auto man at the end of his bed and started looking through old pictures and papers, he moved his father’s journal to the side and then he found a black folder.

Dean let out a breath of relief as he pulled the black folder out and he sat down on the bed. The field was made of paper and it was a bit worn with the years of being moved around since they went from motel to motel a lot. Then Dean opened up the folder and he was pleasantly surprised to find that what he was looking for was still inside.

Inside of the folder there was a sheet of sketch paper with a drawing of both you and him on it. It was an old picture, Dean’s hair was longer and he didn’t quite have bags under his yees from the years of losing sleep because of a hunt. Then there was you, and you were even more gorgeous in person. Your talented hand didn’t give you justice on paper.

In the picture, you were wrapped up in his arms while the two of you sat down on a blanket in the grass. Both of you had a peaceful expression as you looked out at the lake. Dean could still remember the way you felt in his arms, remembering the moment you had drawn in the picture. It was the second to the last night that he spent in Wisconsin.

Dean smiled at the memory, knowing that even after so many years you still had a piece of his heart. But then reality started to get to him and he wondered if you had been married after college graduation. Did you have a family of your own? Dean calculated and by this time you had to be in your mid thirties like he was, right? Most people were arrived by then if they were lucky, and any man would be lucky to have someone so special like you.

Honestly Dean couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you still thought about him once in a while. Maybe late at night when you were watching a movie drinking some wine and drawing one of those covers Sam showed him, he wondered if you thought about him.

Dean put the picture back into the folder and placed it on the night table beside his bed before he grabbed his bag and some clothes to pack up. Then he got his other pair of jeans and a shirt to wear before he headed off to the shower.

Two days had gone by and that was the night you were supposed to go out with Danielle and Callie to some sort of club or whatever. Honestly you weren’t sure if dancing was your thing. You weren’t in your twenties anymore after all but when you were texting Danielle about it all she told you was that it was something to put you out there, give you something fun to look forward to this weekend.

At the moment you weren’t really focused on your little outing that night. You were a little more concerned about the fact that you hadn’t heard from Callie in the last couple of days.

It wasn’t like Callie. She typically texted you and Danielle at least once daily whether she texted some sort of joke or sent a picture of some silly picture first thing in the morning before going about her day and living her life on her days off. But it had been two days and you found it odd that she hadn’t sent any memes, jokes, or even talked about going out that night.

When the door opened you happened to glance up and you saw Danielle running in with a frantic expression across her features. When Danielle made eye contact with you, you realized she was rushing over to the bar to meet you.

“Y/N, have you heard from Callie lately? I saw her boyfriend this morning and he was out at some diner and he acted like he was just fine while he was sitting beside some girl.” She rambled, catching you off guard with how fast she was talking.

“What? No I haven’t, wait he was with another girl?” You asked.

“Yeah and you wanna know what else? I heard Nelson was visited by two guys in suits. I think the FBI is looking into it. Maybe they caught a glimpse of something with Nelson’s wife and they’re looking into it.”

“But the cops already talked to Nelson. That was the whole point of him not stopping by the bar at all like two days ago. Why would the FBI need to talk to him again? Poor guy’s already been through enough.” You said.

“Well, honestly I don’t think Nelson minds. I bet he’s a little glad he doesn’t have to deal with the constant heartbreak of his wife bumping ugliest with different men every other night.”

“Oh come on, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration.” You tried to give the former Mrs. Nelson the benefit of the doubt.

“Would you really be surprised if it was that often though?” Danielle smirked, you rolled your eyes a little before you started putting some of the clean glasses away to prepare for customers.

“Do you think the FBI will come here to see if we know anything? You know the manager’s out of town this week. What do we tell them if they happen to come in?” Danielle asked, starting to get a little worried, not much to your surprise.

“Danielle, breathe. If they come in and you spot them, just send them to me. I’ve got it covered. Not that they’ll ask anything we have any knowledge about anyway.” You said and Danielle took a deep breath before exhaling and nodding.

“I’m still worried about Callie.” She said.

“Well think about it… if you and your boyfriend broke up, are you going to want to spend a lot of time on your phone for the first couple of days? Or are you going to want to sleep and isolate for a while before you start making public appearances again.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll tell you what. After we clock out tonight, we can go over to Callie’s house and check up on her and make sure she’s alright.” You insisted.

“Okay… yeah that sounds like a plan.”

“Now… why don’t you go ahead and clock in and we can get the show on the road. They may not even come at all, and Callie will more than definitely be alright.” You insisted and Danielle nodded.

With that being said the two of you got to work. You were busily serving different customers at the bar with different drinks. Some you were used to making but apparently there were some visitors and they wanted something fancy. Two preppy looking guys had just walked through the door and made themselves comfortable at the bar. They looked like they were the country club type of guys.

“Hey, Miss! Can I get a Boulevardier cocktail over here?” One of them said. He had waved ginger hair and he was wearing a blue golf shirt.

“Yeah and I’ll have Vieux Carre cocktail, Darlin.” The other said. He was blond, hair parted to the side and he wore an orange golf shirt with white stripes.

These people must’ve had the worst taste in clothing, and an even worse taste in drinks. You couldn’t even try and pronounce these things and you weren’t even sure if you had the right ingredients for these stupid sounding drinks.

“Sure. I’ll get right on that for you fellas.” You replied and went to the back to get the glasses. Then you pulled out the phone to see what the heck those drinks were. Luckily for you, you had some similar ingredients, but you weren’t working in a fancy bar so you had some pretty basic drinks, they’ll just have to deal with generic.

You grabbed what you needed and started to make the drinks and you thought you heard Danielle’s voice followed by two gruff sounding voices. Yay, more customers.

You were too focused on making the drinks but that was when Danielle started walking towards the bar with the two men she was talking to.

“Y/N? I’ve got a couple of agents that would like to speak with you.” Danielle called.

When you glanced over you saw a familiar green pair of eyes, the ones that you’ve drawn numerous times. They’ve changed though, like they’ve seen so much more. But seeing Dean there… it was like everything in your world stopped and you accidentally dropped the glasses you needed.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floor snapped you out of it.

You immediately started looking for a broom but Danielle started rushing over to help you, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it for you. What did these guys order?”

“Thank you… Some cocktails with fancy names. I’ll send you the recipes.” You said as you wiped your hands on the apron.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” She said and you nodded a little.

“Yeah, I’m okay… I’ll tell you later.” You told her, not wanting to be wrong if your suspicions are correct.

You nibbled on your bottom lip softly before letting it go and you walked over to the two federal agents.

Dean was straightening up his tie uncomfortably. All these years later and he still hated these damned monkey suits but then he felt Sam nudge his arm and when Dean looked up, he could feel his breath taken away.

No, it couldn’t be you could it?

You looked so beautiful, time seemed to have done wonders for you and Dean almost found it hard to breathe at the sight of you.

Of all the towns this case had to take place in, it just had to be the one you lived in. Have you heard anything about the case? You didn’t know about all the ugliness out there yet, did you?

“My friend said you wanted to speak with me? How can I help you?”

God your voice brought back so many memories, but Dean couldn’t dwell on them. Besides, you probably forgot about him so what was the point? Still… it was eating at his mind.

“Um… yeah… Agent Peart, could you get us a couple of drinks and maybe talk to one of the other bartenders?” Dean said.

Sam looked over and raised a brow skeptically. Dean was lucky Sam didn’t really question it and the younger Winchester walked off, giving Dean the time to be alone with you.

“So Ms… L/N, right?” Dean asked, almost hesitant.

But he watched the corner of your lips turn upward into a smile, “Yes, Agent Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you did remember him after all.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d recall…”

“Dean, it may have been a few years since that summer but I’m not old enough for dementia.” You joked.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little and the two of you found a place to sit at the bar table. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and it felt just like it did before.

“So how’ve you been? How’s your father and the business?” You asked, Dean remembered that he never told you the exact truth. You had a lot to catch up on he supposed.

“Dad um… well he passed several years ago. About five years after that summer, actually.” Dean said and he watched the way you began to frown.

“I’m sorry to hear that… I remember how you used to talk about him and how close you were.” You told him and he gave a bittersweet smile.

“Things well.. they changed in the five years after. A lot did actually. But my brother and I actually take care of the family business.” He told you and you lifted a brow.

“If you’re an agent now, how do you have the time for a traveling business?” You asked and he felt his palms get clammy, knowing that might be a difficult thing to answer.

“Um… well… Agents like me and Peart aren’t always in one place, so I still travel a lot anyway and when I’m off duty I handle the business as much as I can.” He tried to explain in the most believable way possible.

“You never did tell me what kind of business your dad started. I was always so curious.” You said and Dean wished he could tell you the truth.

“Actually… I need to ask you a few questions. I’m sort of on a case and I don’t really have a whole lot of time to catch up this time around.” He admitted softly.

Dean felt his heart sank at the way your shoulders seemed to slump a little before you looked down at your glass of brandy. He wished he could spend as much time with you as possible, but he couldn’t afford to lose anymore people. People have already lost their lives because of him and he couldn’t afford to do that to you too. He couldn’t handle it.

“What is it you want to know, Agent?”

The switch to the professionalism in your tone pierced Dean through the heart. Maybe he should have asked Sam to keep him some company after all, but from the looks of it he was busy interviewing someone else and writing notes down like the nerd he was.

“The owner… did you have many interactions with his wife?” He asked and he watched you shake your head.

“No. Too busy working. Plus she seldom came here anyway. She was more of a promiscuous woman than anything else. Nelson knew that better than anyone else.” You sighed.

“Nelson.. do you think he’d ever want to take revenge on his wife or pay someone to do it?” Dean asked, making this seem like routine questions - in a way they were still important for a hunter’s case. Who knows, maybe Nelson could he the werewolf he was looking for.

“And risk losing the bar because he’s in jail? No. He was hurt by his wife’s actions, yeah. But for a while they tried to work on it, but then they separated for a month. After that they started living together again before the affairs started up again. And from the looks of it he didn’t have the time to deal with his adulterous wife if she wasn’t willing to change. But there were rumors of a divorce.”

“Do you think Nelson had any enemies? Someone that wanted to get to him through the Mrs?” Dean asked.

“Look, Dean. I don’t keep tabs on my boss and his wife. I don’t care about that kind of thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to serve and you have a murder to solve. Don’t let me keep you.” You said and abruptly stood up and walked away to get back to work.

Dean rubbed his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well that looks like it was a disaster.”

Dean heard the sound of his brother’s voice and he rolled his eyes a little before he got up.

“Let’s get out of here and compare notes…”

“You okay, Man?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Let’s just go.” Dean stated and he pushed his chair in before they walked out of the door after putting some cash on the table top for the drinks.

Once the two of them got into the car, Dean started the Impala and when he was pulling out he started to drive to the hotel, then Sam started to talk again.

“So why were you so in a rush to leave? What the hell happened back there?” Sam asked, causing Dean to grimace a little but he knew his brother wouldn’t let it go until he knew what was going on.

“You remember the girl we were talking about? The cover artist?” He said and Sam nodded.

“Wait, that was Y/N? Why don’t we go back? You two can catch up! It’s just a werewolf case, a milk run. I can handle this and give you time with her.” Sam said; and as much as Dean appreciated the willingness, he knew his chances were probably gone.

“Oh no… what did you do?” Sam asked when Dean went quiet.

“Why is it always something that I did?” Dean asked and Sam scoffed.

“Because, Dean. As smooth as you are with women you’ll never see again, you always screw up with the ones that matter and you let them go. Why are you trying to let this one go?”

“Because I can’t have what happened to Jo and Lisa happen to her. Even though Jo was a hunter, she still got killed! Lisa didn’t have experience with hunting, never wanted anything to do with it, and she just got in trouble just by knowing me.” Dean said sternly, beginning to speed because he wasn’t exactly focused on the road.

“Dean! Slow down! We aren’t on a roller coaster!”

Dean heard his brother’s panicky voice and he eased on the gas and tried to focus on what he was doing and eventually they made it to the hotel. Luckily there weren’t any cops on the road so he didn’t get pulled over or anything on the way. But he turned off the car and Sam cleared his throat a little.

“Sam, I don’t want advice on this one. It’s better to just let this one go.”

“Dean, come on. I know for a fact you still have that picture she drew for you. And you said it yourself, that was the best summer of your life! You deserve to experience that kind of happiness again. Especially since things seem to be so calm right now. No angelic wars, no apocalypses, things are quiet and you deserve a break.”

Dean was still quiet.

“And you still aren’t going to tell me what down at the bar, are you?”

With a grunt, Dean stepped out of the car and started making his way up the stairs to get to their designated room.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

[hii-hawaiiu]

Date?

Marlene McKinnon x Reader

Summary : You’ve been infuriated with Marlene for some time now and Professor Mcgonagall just happened to pair the both of you up.

Warnings : none!

WC: 1.7k

a/n : this story is based on a dream i had about someone.. hope yall like it!!

‘god,’ Y/N thought as she stared admired marlene. oh marlene even her name sounds pretty with her lion-like golden blonde hair, freckled olive skin, ocean blue eyes and her pretty smile that could brighten up any room she goes to.

Just then, Marlene narrows her eyes into a crescent shape smiling ear to ear at what her friend had just said “so beautiful’ Y/N mused with her chin on her hands looking like an awe-struck kid who had just seen princesses for the first time ever.

“Who's so beautiful?” Her friend’s voice snapped her out of her daydream face turning red when she realized that she had accidentally said it out loud.

she looked around then frantically searching for something, anything, when her eyes caught another pair “You, Reg! you’re so beautiful! Have I ever told you that?” Exclaimed Y/N quickly hoping her friend would believe her or at least not noticing her err— appreciation.

“No. you’re fucking with me, you were looking over there,” the slytherin boy pointed to where marlene and her friends are sitting, with the marauders coincidentally sitting close by.

Regulus’ eyes widened “NO!” He let out a loud gasp “Don't tell me you were staring at my brother?!” He pulled on her collar forcing her to face him cupping her mouthful cheeks causing her to choke on her food. She slapped him away bringing her hand up and started pounding her chest, coughing brutally, Regulus hands her a drink to keep the food down.

“i was not staring at him!” She cried out after chugging whatever liquid regulus had gave her, still breathless after her coughing fit looking at him dead in the eyes “I was just- simply admiring as some would say” —it's not like she was lying, she was not staring at him she was staring at marlene, wait, no, scratch that, she was admiring marlene.—

Regulus eyes her still clearly not believing in any of her bullshit she smacks the back of his head causing him to let out a yelp before brushing her away letting the conversation go.

“Oi L/N!” Someone whistled, rolling her eyes as she made her way to her seat, setting her bag down as the voice continued.

“A little birdie told me you were checking me out..” He trails off “is that true? y’know there's no need to be ashamed” His friends giggling like little girls at his statement.

She clicked her tongue letting out a sigh, the one time she went to class early and she had to deal with this?

She turned around to the origin of the voice looking at him up and down “oh i was totally checking you out!” She clapped her hands together, looking up at him through her lashes with a sickeningly sweet smile on her lips batting her eyes seductively bringing her right hand up to twirl her hair.

“Is that what you wanted me to say, Black?” She watched as his face changed, a scoff falling off his lips. Little did she know there was another pair of eyes watching their interaction with an amusing smirk drawn on her face.

As Sirius' expression fell, a sharp snicker cut through the air, drawing attention to a figure in the distance. Marlene was leaning against the wall, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous twinkle. Her body seemed to be gently shaking, struggling to contain her laughter.

Marlene pushed herself off the wall, gracefully making her way towards them. "Well, well, it seems like my dear friend here just couldn't resist your effortless charm, Sirius,"

She teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The corners of her lips curled upward, her lips on the verge of breaking out into a full-blown grin.

“Good job Y/N, you really put him in his place, we really ought to be friends” Marlene's arm wrapped tightly around Y/N's shoulder, drawing her into a warm side hug.

The proximity caused a flutter in Y/N's chest, her heart racing with anticipation, not only from being so close to the charismatic blonde but also from the realization that she had made an impressive dent in Sirius' ego.

“Thanks!” Y/N grinned, her cheeks tinged pink from Marlene's praise.

The other girl's infectious enthusiasm and genuine affection were intoxicating, and Y/N found herself leaning into the embrace. It was refreshing to be around someone who encouraged her to push the limits, someone who didn't hesitate to knock an ego like Sirius' down a peg.

Pushing her feelings aside, Y/N couldn't help but return a smirk, her gaze flickering between Sirius and Marlene. "Oh, I'm sure we'd make a terrific duo," she chuckled, a playful lilt to her voice.

Sirius rolled his eyes, his annoyance evident, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. "You two are unbearable," he muttered.

“Aw, Sirius, you're just jealous that we have each other's charming company,” Marlene retorted, sending a playful wink towards Y/N as she tightened her hold on her shoulder. The smirk on her lips seemed to grow wider, her eyes gleaming with delight.

Y/N stifled a giggle, finding immense pleasure in the exchange. She glanced over at Sirius, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “You're just upset that I wasn't as easily impressed by your arrogant banter.”

Sirius let out a scoff, his features contorted into an exaggerated pout. “Arrogant banter? I prefer to call it eloquent wit.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, the action more affectionate than dismissive. “Of course you do,” she retorted, her tone dry with feigned annoyance.

“Well, Marlene and I have more interesting things to discuss than your inflated ego,” she remarked, subtly shifting away from Sirius and closer to Marlene.

Marlene snickered at Y/N’s remark, clearly enjoying the banter shared between them and Sirius. “That’s right,” she agreed, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. “We’ve got far more riveting topics to discuss.”

Y/N smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, yes. Like the latest fashion trends, relationship gossip, and, of course, our shared disdain for pompous boys with oversized egos.”

“Settle down everyone!” Professor McGonagall entered the room, her stern expression silencing the rowdy students immediately. She announced a new paired assignment, much to everyone's dismay.

“I've taken the liberty of sorting you into partners,” she declared, her gaze sweeping across the classroom.

Y/N groaned silently, dreading the moment her partner would be revealed. To her surprise, she heard Marlene's name being announced alongside her own.

She glanced over at Marlene, who seemed equally shocked by their pairing. A mixture of excitement and trepidation coursed through her veins. This unexpected collaboration could either turn out brilliantly or end in disaster.

Sirius watched as their names were called, a mixture of annoyance and amusement playing across his features. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickering between the two girls.

'Oh, this is going to be interesting,' he mused silently.

McGonagall continued listing out names, the students murmuring amongst themselves, clearly not thrilled with the assignments. Once all the pairs had been announced, the class was dismissed, and Y/N found herself walking alongside Marlene towards the library to begin their project.

“Well, this ought to be intriguing,” Marlene remarked, her voice betraying her excitement yet tinted with a hint of wariness. “Working closely with my new favorite person.”

Y/N chuckled, her cheeks tinged pink at the compliment. "Oh, I'm your favorite person now, am I? I feel honored."

As they entered the library, they snagged a secluded table near the back, away from the hustle and bustle of the main study area. Y/N pulled out her notes and textbook, preparing to dive into the assignment.

Marlene took a seat beside her, a smirk tugging at her lips. "I have no doubt we'll make a power duo on this project."

Y/N returned the smirk, her confidence growing with every passing moment in Marlene's company. "Oh, there's no doubt about it. We're going to ace this project and show them all what we're made of."

She glanced at the assignment's title, her mind already racing with ideas. "Alright, what do you say we start brainstorming?"

Marlene nodded eagerly, pushing up the sleeves of her jumper. "Absolutely. Let's do it."

They spent the next hour bouncing ideas off one another, their chemistry evident as they built upon each other's suggestions. They laughed, they argued playfully, and they found themselves getting lost in the conversation.

"This is actually going well," Y/N remarked, a genuine smile on her face. "I guess we do make a good team, after all."

As Marlene glanced up from her notes, a question danced on the tip of her tongue. Their project was progressing smoothly, but her thoughts suddenly shifted, seizing a brief moment of respite.

"Hey, Y/N," Marlene started, a subtle curve of her lips hinting at a playful undertone. Her eyes fixated on Y/N's focused expression, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "Do you know what the date is?"

Y/N paused, her gaze lifting from the parchment to meet Marlene's eyes. She chuckled, her cheeks slightly flushed with mild embarrassment. "Hmm? Oh, sorry, I was out of it for a bit” she admitted, her gaze flicking back to her notes for a brief second before meeting Marlene's once again. "Can you repeat that, please?"

Marlene smirked teasingly, a sparkle of amusement dancing in her eyes. "the date?," she repeated slowly, emphasizing the words playfully.

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion, her brain struggling to comprehend the meaning behind the question. As the realization slowly dawned on her, a cheeky smile spread across her lips.

"with you?" she responded flirtatiously, her voice dripping with lighthearted tease. "Anytime."

Marlene's smirk widened at Y/N's quick response. She leaned back in her chair, resting her chin on her palm as she studied Y/N's expression.

"Alright then," Marlene replied, her voice betraying a hint of intrigue. "How about tomorrow at 8?"

Y/N's eyes widened at Marlene's unexpected question. She stared at the other girl in disbelief for a moment, mentally processing the question to ensure she had heard it correctly.

"WHAT?" she blurted out, her voice betraying a hint of surprise.

[hvnnibvni]

Together Again | JJK *part 2*

Pairings: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.

Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.

Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.

Authors note: Heyyy~ how are you? Welcome back. I’m going to try to release once a day idk yet still trying to figure this app out 😭 I sound old asf bruh but we gone get through it lol. Anyways ENJOY BB🤍

——————————————————————

‘ Oh these bitches got me all the way fucked up’

“well I guess we could go back home for a while. Right my lovelies?” You ask your two afghan hounds, Cleo and Benji. You two babies you’d be damned if you’d let that piece of shit keep them. He can’t even keep himself.

As you drive home you think about what you’re going to say to you parents. You know they’re gonna be upset you left in the first place for someone who had ‘unknown origins’ but you never saw it that way. You really did love him, but you weren’t going to cry over a man. That just wasn’t in you. What would your mother say? You’d rather not think about what you father would say

when you pull up to the security gate the guard is surprised to see you, but none the less let’s you in and quickly gets in the phone. Most likely to tell your parents you were coming up no doubt. “Nothings changed,” you say to yourself as you drive through the landscape up to the manor. As you pull up to the mansion you see you mother running out to great you. “My baby! You’re home! I’ve missed you so much.” Your mother exclaimed as she kisses you all over your face. “Hey mama,” you laugh. “Where’s Dad?” You ask following her into the house. “Oh he’s up int the drawing room right now, he has a guess at the moment. Maybe it’s someone you might remember.” She says smirking to herself. “ I know that look mummy, who’s here?” “An old friends is all I’m going to say,” your mother had a cheeky look on her face when she said that. “Oh you’re up to something weird,” you say to her but ultimately you let it go.

“So are you going to tell you why you’ve come here all of a sudden after no contact for 5 years?” Your mother presses. “I doubt you don’t already know, I know you and daddy have been keeping tags on me since I left.” You answer her as she gives you an innocent face. “I do but I’d like to hear the story from you.” Your mother has been keeping tabs on you since you left, so she definitely knows the whole story. So you tell her everything. What they did and everything they’ve said about you. “Well good thing you didn’t have to deal with trivial matters like that anymore,” she says rolling her eyes at the thought of you ex. “What does that mean momma?” You ask catching the double meaning in her words. “It means you will have a chance to make things right for you and the family reputation.you know what we had to go though and cover up once you left.” She tells you low key reprimanding you at the same time.

*sigh* ”okay momma I’ll do whatever it takes to go back to being the head of the family, and kill those pieces of shit classily.” You tell your mom smirking. Your mom laughs at you change of mood, and leads you to the drawing room where you father is. You hear voices on the other side of the doors besides your fathers. Your mother open the door excited to show your father that you’re back home. When she does you dad looks like he expected to see you on the other side, while he looks at you but you’re focused on the man sitting across from him. “Jungkook,” You breathe out. “Hey y/n long no see,” he says with a breath taking smile. “ welcome home y/n we were actually just talking about you. Before we can accept you back we have one condition.” Your father explains to you. “And what is that daddy?” You ask already having an idea as you continue ti stare at Jungkook. Amazed at how much more mature he’s gotten.

“You have to agree to our previous arrangement, and marry Jungkook.” You father says not wasting anytime. Well at least he welcomed you back. You’d expected him to not speak to acknowledge your existence while you were there. “Okay. I’ll do it.” You rempli to your father watching him stand and make his way over to you. You weren’t expecting him to hug you, but he does. It’s the most loving hug you’ve ever received from you father. ”I’ve missed you babydoll,” he whispers kissing your forehead. “I’ve missed you too daddy,” you say hugging him back trying not to cry.

After a while your mother steps in “I’d hate to break up this touching moment, but we need to get y/n ready for tonight.” You look at her confused “what’s tonight?” “Your engagement party of course!” She says excitedly “why did I think I’d at least have a week to get settled in. You guys already had this planned out didn’t you? I bet you guys called the Jeon family as soon as you found out I was coming right?” You interrogate. Your father chuckles next to you as you look at you parents incredulously. “It was your fathers idea. I said we should wait at least a day.” You mother adds. “ of course it was,” you say as your father looks the other direction with a cheeky smile.

you turn to look at Jungkook who’s been unusually quiet. Watching the scene in front of him. “Were you in on this too?” You ask him looking past your parents. “I actually just found out the moment before you came in,” he responds with a small smile. “But I can say it’s been some of the best news I’ve gotten all week. I really missed you y/n.” He says scratching the nape of his neck. You and Jungkook have been arranged since childhood. He’s always had a crush on you, it broke his heart when you refused to marry him for someone else. But now that he has you he’s not going to let you go again. “I missed you too JK, you’ve grown up so much I barely even recognized you,” you say chuckling. “Yeah I know right. It’s crazy how much people can change over a short amount of time.” He says looking at you with a look you just couldn’t decipher.

Before you could respond you mother cuts in again “Ma fille, we really need to get you ready for tonight. Ah please take her bags up to her room and get her into the proper attire.” You mother asks the head maid. “Oh and burn whatever she’s wearing.” She points at your outfit , covering her face with a look of disgust. “Cheri what is this atrocity you’re wearing. It hurts to look at.” You were wearing white beach shorts, a stripped tee and a green cardigan. It’s not what you were used to wearing when you were home. But it was comfortable and made you stand out less. “Momma it’s not that bad,” you defend. “No babydoll your mothers right. That’s not something anyone in our family would wear, maybe if the cardigan wasn’t the same shade of puke it would pass as inside clothes. No scratch that no one would ever wear that in their entire lives.” You father adds looking slightly disgusted. You look at you parents shocked at them reading you to filth. Behind them you see Jungkook holding his laughter while covering his face. Before you could defend yourself further you’re already being ushered out of the room.

[brandwhorestarscream]

I am very interested in the Transformers One cybermorph AU. And how D-16 and Orion (and B and Elita) react to the discovery.

Because Orion would not abandon D for anything at this point. B probably has no idea what a Cybermorph is, and Elita might know, but with all the other lies Sentinel told, who knows what the truth actually is.

But Alpha Trion is, of course, right there...

Wheee someone else shares my interest (งᐛ)ว I'm thinking that, in this situation, those under Sentinel's rule don't know about the morphs. They appeared very late in the war, and perhaps their emergence could've helped pave the way for Sentinel's betrayal. Orion and friends are completely blindsided by their existence >:)

Consider: D-16 who is Queen Mother Galvatron's lost little morphling, displaced during the war somehow 🤭 without his cog he's stuck in permanent root mode, and has no idea what he is. Neither does anyone else, save for one person 👀 it's Sentinel, he knows and has been holding onto him as a last ditch effort bargaining chip to use against the hive

Godddd im just thinking about the angst, Dee's already horrified and sickened by everything he found out about Sentinel, then Alpha Trion grants them their cogs and the alt mode he finds waiting for him is one of those things. Idk exactly when, but at some point during their journey they saw morphs in all of their terrifying glory.

In the movie where he fired his very first shot from his cannon, blasting that vehicon (press f for steve), that's instead switched out for him leaping onto the drone and tearing it apart with his teeth and claws akin to the vicious mauling attacks of the neomorphs, screeching and chittering threateningly in a language he doesn't understand ("BACK OFF MY HIVE!" He shrieks in morphspeak. "OFF! AWAY! MINE!"

Then he hears B-127 make a strangled noise and the scrambling of pedes, and he looks up and sees the other three staring at him in mild horror and disgust. He flinches back, drawing up to his full height, and finally looks down at himself--before backpedalling in shock himself because no no no no no, this can't be- this isn't happening- he's not- he can't be-!

His back hits a trees and he pounds a panicked fist into his chest once, twice, "Get it off get it off getitoff!" tone panicky by the third hit. He wants to be back in root mode, now, and finally that seems to do it. He shifts back down to his original form, and touches his face anxiously, observing his fingers and feeling his denta, razor sharp a moment ago but now flat. "I- I'm me?!" He asks, sounding strangled. "I- I'm still me- I- I'm still-"

"...Dee-" he looks up, startled, chassis heaving in fast, shallow gasps. He finds Orion in front of him, expression full of concern, brows upturned and mouth pressed into a thin line. "Dee, what... how... wh-why didn't you ever tell me?!"

"Tell you?! I didn't know myself until just now- don't look at me like that, th-this is a big shock for me too!" he has his arms wrapped around himself as if he could physically hold himself together. His optics flit from Orion to the other two behind him. Standing a safe distance away, and looking tense. Ready to run.

"Ok, so," Elita one refuses to let her hands shake, so she hops from foot to foot to work off the nervous energy, trying to appear ready. "What, are we, you know. Going to do?"

"We're taking this to Iacon-"

"Not that," she swats Pax's shoulder. "I mean about," her optics flick over toward D-16 meaningfully. "Him."

"Uh, I'm right here-"

"What do you mean, Elita?" Orion shifts closer to D-16. "I don't... why wouldn't he come with us?"

"Because he's one of them?! You want to bring one of those things straight to Iacon?!"

"I am right here-"

"Elita, what- he's not like them, he's- Dee and I, we've all been fri-"

"Ap-pup-pup!" She thrusts a silencing finger in his face. "Pax I have been extremely forgiving up til now, I didn't scrap you when you got me fired, I didn't slag you when you got me thrown off a train, I didn't even slag you or bigmouth back here when you dragged me onto this stupid quest. I am not, under any circumstances, letting you bring a morph to Iacon City!"

"I am RIGHT HERE!" D-16 suddenly bellows. "Stop acting like I'm not here! If you have a problem say it to my face!"

"Maybe I will!" Elita growls. "I don't know what you are exactly but I saw what your little brothers and sisters did back there, I am not gonna let you do the same thing to our home!"

"It's my home too, or did you forget that?! You're older than me, you were there the day I... came..." the silver mech's face suddenly goes slack, and he straightens up from the slight hunch he'd entered so they could yell at each other face to face. "Online. Wait..." a trouble shadow slides across his expression. "Did I come online? Or, was I... did I..."

If he's a cybermorph, then... that means he wasn't constructed cold. From the little they know, morphs are a techno-organic species. They can't be constructed cold. Where did he come from, then? From who did he come from? How did he come to be in Iacon in the first place?

[xeenybobean]

"Behind that mask"

Miles Morales x Reader

Word count: 3k

This is an updated version! the original prompt was given to me by my friend @peachyfimls

Original prompt: can you do a miles morales x reader where the reader finds out hes spider man and his reaction?

It's a bit short!

Tags: @peachyfimls @sodapopzds @bluenotes75 @r3allytir3d @girl-calmdown

[if you wanna be tagged in future posts pls dm or comment!]

Summary: You and Miles have been childhood friends since birth, your mother and Miles’s mom Rio have been best friends since high school and have done everything together and the two of them are both in touch to this day. Once you and Miles were born the two of them wanted to get you both together so you would always stay at his apartment and she would always stay at your place. You both grew closer and closer together did everything together, and told each other everything, you were there for him and he was there for you. You both were stuck like glue never leaving each other's side but once you guys got to high school you notice a shift in your childhood best friend, Whenever you asked he never answered he would just brush it off like it was nothing.

You soon noticed the habits he picked up on avoiding you was one of them but you understand what you did wrong, you slowly began to realize he was hanging out with a girl named Gwen Stacy. You didn’t think much of it because you knew Miles loved you he was your childhood friend after all what was going on..? You were now in his room waiting for him in his apartment complex, the two of you were supposed to discuss a new idea for a graffiti art piece you two wanted to do at the abandoned train station but of course, he was late so you decided to snoop around...

⚠Warning!!⚠: NONE! Complete fluff | friendship bonding| love the fluff!! Since I had an angst one here's some fluff for you guys! | 

“Now you know..sometimes we must keep things a secret to protect the ones we want the most.” 

Here you were in his room waiting anxiously. You bit your lip gently and sighed and you looked at your phone waiting for your friend as you lay down in his bed smelling his scent from his blankets. “Where are you, Miles?..” You mumbled softly as you slowly sat up seeing his mother Rio coming in with a warm smile on her face. She could tell you missed him, it was written all over your face clear as day. 

“Hey. I brought you some snacks..” she said softly as she placed a small kiss on your forehead the scent of freshly fried Arepa's filled Miles’s room. You began to drool slightly as you sat up fully as took the plate out of her hands gently. 

“Thank you..” You whispered as you looked at her and she looked at you with a large smile as you took an Arepa and bit on one of the corners and instantly felt in heaven... Rio’s cooking was your favorite whenever you weren't at home. You wouldn’t want to eat anywhere that wasn’t at Miles’s home. You smiled and looked at her swallowing the bite you just took. “Good as always Mrs. Morales.” You smiled as she smiled back at you and pressed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Of course. I’m sure Miles will be here soon..just stay tight amor.” her voice was soft as she pressed one last kiss on your forehead and left the room. You sighed and continued to eat the plate of freshly fried Arepas Rio made you. Once you finished you placed the empty plate on Miles’s nightstand. You began to grow bored as you stood up slightly and looked around his room to find his sketchbook. You chuckled slightly and grabbed it gently. Usually, Miles would hide his sketchbook from you let alone let you look inside of it for some odd reason. 

You then sat back down on his bed and started flipping the pages skimming through his messy sketchbook gently as you stumbled on a drawing of Gwen, you flipped to the next page to see another and another, and another. The man was this boy lovesick. You sighed as you continually saw photos of Gwen drawn in his sketchbook with hearts all around her. “This is the girl you like huh Miles?..” you chuckled to yourself as you flipped the last page of his sketchbook to see something falling out. 

You looked down at the floor and placed his sketchbook down as you stared at a Spiderman mask that was from a costume. You grabbed it gently and sniffed it to smell it reeked of sweat as you gagged slightly regretting your decision. You tilted your head slightly as you placed the mask on your lap. 

“Why would he have something like this in the back of his sketchbook..” You wondered as you opened the last page that held the mask as your eyes grew wide, it was Miles. Wearing a Spiderman suit. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Was your childhood best friend Miles Spiderman? You instantly closed his sketchbook and placed it back where you found it as you continued to hold the damp mask in your grasp. You began to rethink, trying to think back to when the other Spiderman appeared in Brooklyn. You examined it, it looked like the same one the teen wore along with the other Spidermen that you saw on the news. It then clicked. Miles Morales. Your childhood friend was Spiderman. 

You placed the mask under his sketchbook quickly hearing his doorknob jangle a bit. You wiped your sweaty hands as you stared at the door. Once it opened you were looking at your best friend..he had this dumb smile on his face as he latched himself onto you tightly. You were taken aback as you tumbled lightly, leaning on the wall for support. 

“I missed you Y/N..” he spoke softly as he rested his head on your neck breathing in your warm scent..your perfume and your natural scent filled his nose and he instantly calmed down. You looked at him a bit confused, he wasn’t touchy nor affectionate towards you as he started to talk with Gwen and hang out with her instead. You slowly wrapped your arms around him gently as he gripped you tighter. 

“Everything ok Miles? You're not usually this..touchy with me anymore ever since you've been hanging out with Gwen..” You mumbled feeling a little bit jealous as you felt him chuckling against your skin as you felt his gaze on yours.

“You jealous or something Y/N?” He teased as he inched a bit closer your noses almost touching as you stared at him with a confused expression on your face, he was never like this maybe he just wanted to mess around. You didn't know. 

“Maybe I am jealous, I am your childhood best friend remember..not her.” you slowly pried Miles out of your grasp as you sighed and sat on his bed while swinging your legs back and forth gently. “You stopped hanging out with me and saying hi to me ever since she transferred what or how do you think that makes me feel? And now I find out your Spiderman? What are you gonna tell me next, that you have a secret girlfriend you’ve been hiding?” You said sarcastically as you looked at Miles.

Bro was pale as a rock. Frozen like a statue, he didn’t know whether to be happy or confused, has he always wanted to tell you? Yes, but his identity was supposed to remain secret. He promised Peter. He blinked a few times registering what you said to make sure he wasn’t hearing things as he walked towards you.

“H-how did you find out..” he mumbled softly as he crouched down to meet your gaze, his eyes were filled with panic and worries and you could feel his aura radiating off of his body. You needed to calm him down as soon as possible before he started spiraling. 

“Your sketchbook..” you mumbled softly and sighed slouching your shoulders as you looked away from your friend. “I know you said I couldn’t look but. I was bored and you were late so it just piqued my interest! Then. I saw the mask and put the pieces together, why you were absent., always late..you not having human-like symptoms, your nightmare about his parents being killed by villains, etc..” you smiled faintly and looked at your friend as you felt his bed shifting slightly as he was now sitting next to you, his hands locked with his own as he hunched his back down staring on the floor. 

You hated to see him in this state. You slowly ran your hand up and down his back gently as his body leaned against your lap. You looked down at him to see his gaze facing down instead of looking at you. You could tell he was processing a lot and what to say as he scrunched his eyebrows.

You began to slowly make your way to his hair as you began to play with his curls gently as he leaned into his touch gently his glossy eyes slowly making their way to yours. He was too precious for this world. You thought to yourself as you felt his hand holding yours gently you could feel the sadness radiating from him. You looked at him and smiled weakly and tried to change the mood of the room.

“I think it’s pretty cool if I'm being honest Miles..” You said softly as his attention went to you instantly you could see his worries wash away like nothing as he smiled at you widely his chocolate brown eyes staring into yours. 

“Really?.. Do you think so?.. You aren’t upset at me?” you couldn't help but pinch the bridge of his nose and kiss his temple lightly as his cheeks slowly turned red, he looked at you in shock but his shocked expression changed to a smile as he continued to stare at you. 

“Why would I be upset at you? Your my childhood best friend you have a good soul... Am I a little upset you didn’t tell me sooner? Yes, I am but..now I know. my best friend is fucking Spider-man how cool is that! Not everyone can say that they are personally close to a hero you know? I promise to not tell anyone you can trust me, dork.” You teased as he tackled you hugging you tightly and pushing you onto his bed. You felt him resting his face in your neck as you wrapped your arms around his torso to secure him in place you chuckled lightly seeing him in this sensitive attention-seeking touch-starved state. You slowly began to rub his scalp gently in circular motions as you heard him whimper into the crook of your neck. 

“I’ve wanted to tell you so bad. It hurt me so much to not tell you..so bad. You had no idea the number of times when I had to lie to you broke my heart. sometimes we must keep things a secret to protect the one we want the most. Please understand..” your heart began to melt as you squeezed him tiger chuckling slightly as you kissed his forehead gently causing him to whimper just a bit as he hid his face in your neck still breathing in your scent. 

“I understand Miles..don’t worry, your secret is safe with me forever and always... I'm so proud of you.” with those few words, he felt pride swelling his chest as he got out of your grasp and stood up taking his jacket off to reveal his Spiderman suit as he pulled his mask down to cover his face. You sat up and blinked slightly a bit confused about what he was doing let alone if someone would see.

“What are you doing? Someone can see you..” You said in a low hushed tone as you stared at his hand a bit confused you chuckled slightly taking his hand as he pulled you up out of his bed. Your body pressed against his as you heard him laughing through his mask. 

“How about we take a swing yea? Show you how cool this is,” he said, before you could even register or think of a response he flicked his web to open the window, and off you both go. His arm was surrounding your waist gripping you tightly as he began to swing out of his room connecting his web to a nearby building as the two of you swing through the loud city of your home. You latched your arms around his neck tightly closing your eyes shut as you heard him laugh once more. 

“You’ll miss the view if you keep your eyes closed! This is the best part of being Spiderman! Cmon just open your eyes for a quick second and if you don’t like it you can close them until we get to the train station alright?” he said as he continued to swing from one building to the next, the wind blowing through your body as you felt your heart racing, you didn’t want to open your eyes but you trusted your friend so you did what he suggested and boy did you instantly regret it. You began to scream and wailed as you felt his grip on your waist tightening your screams soon began to overlay with his sweet warm laugh, he shook his head and sighed. 

“Maybe do keep your eyes closed..” he said chuckling softly as he swung from building to building as the sounds of the chaotic city began to die down... Once you both arrived at the abandoned train station he landed on the ground perfectly. 

“You can open your eyes now.” he sighed chuckling still, you were practically clinging onto him like a baby, and your eyes began to twitch as you slowly opened them to see how close and tight you were holding onto your friend, you felt your cheeks heating up as you laughed awkwardly as you stood on the ground. 

“We are never doing that again..” You said panting slightly as you bend over, your hands on your knees as you tried your best to catch your breath and slow down the pace of your racing heart. You heard Miles’s laugh echoing through your ear as he patted your back gently. 

You couldn't even say anything until you felt his hand holding yours as he pulled you into the dark abandoned train station the two of you spent the rest of the day together graffitiing the sides of the station. Even though your childhood best was Spiderman you couldn’t love or care for him any less..it didn’t matter if he savers people. In your eyes, he was a hero already. And he trusted you with his whole heart something you would never give up or change whether he was a hero or not. 

The bond between the two of you grew and grew, Miles showed you all the new tricks he could do in the air with his webs, and all the flips and combo attacks just amazed you more and more.

He liked showing off to you, he says it makes him feel good about his hard work and you couldn’t blame him. He was a hero after all..he was lucky to have you by his side wherever he felt guilty after missions, whenever he felt upset or sad he would swing by your place in the middle of the night to cuddle.

Whenever he got injured he went to your place to get patched up while also getting a tongue lashing out of you but he knew it was because you cared so much. He was a hero and you were his nurse. 

He sleepovers almost every night after his patrol

Random jump scares seeing him hanging on your window

Brings you snacks after his patrol as a way of saying ‘thanks’

Lots of cuddles after a long day of saving the city

He loves loves loves when you tell him how proud you are of him, it makes him so happy and makes him push through it just so he can hear you say those three words. 

You cover for him when his mother questions where he is on the phone. You were his backup excuse right off the bat if his mother questioned where he was. 

You gave him advice when it came to him opening up to his parents about him being Spider-Man. 

At this point, the boy should just live at your house cause he leaves everything at your place, his clothes, toothbrushes, computer, sketchbook, electronics, chargers and so much more stuff you had a buy a mini drawer for his clothes. That's how much he spends time with you after late-night patrolling. 

Late-night calls, end in you comforting him and him staying the night at your place. 

You were his ‘why’ was the person he wanted to protect the most besides his family. 

He was glad you found out he was Spiderman because now your bond grew deeper than it ever was and you both supported and guided each other in the right path. Guess that's the perk of having a superhero as your best friend. 

[hotshotsxyz]

thirteen threads

(6x12 companion) (1.7k words) (buddie adjacent) in which buck begins to identify the many things he feels following his near death experience. spoilers for 6x12

It’s in Eddie’s kitchen that Buck begins to unravel the tangled web of emotions that began weaving itself between his ribs the moment he was struck by lightning. 

The feeling he finds there is relief. It’s shaped a little bit like the couch he’d fallen asleep on, and a little bit like the beer in Eddie’s fridge. Buck draws it in with every breath, and lets himself feel it on every exhale. There’s more, much more that he needs to examine, but bathed in the soft glow of the living room lamps and blanketed by the comfortable silence between them, Buck decides that for a moment, it’s alright to feel just one thing. 

Eddie’s phone buzzes on the table, immediately drawing Buck’s eye. He’s surprised to see his sister’s name, but only because it took her this long. Eddie huffs a soft laugh, picks up the phone and stands. 

“Buck’s fine,” he says, as soon as the call connects. 

Buck can hear Maddie’s voice, but he can’t make out her words. 

“He’s asleep on my couch.” Eddie shoots a wink in Buck’s direction. 

Buck ducks his head and smiles. 

Eddie hums noncommittally at whatever Maddie says next. “Just a little overwhelmed, I think. Give him some time.”

A few moments pass, and Eddie’s expression shifts minutely. 

“I promise,” he says, solemn and soft. After another moment, he relaxes. “Goodnight Maddie,” he says. “I’ll tell him.”

Eddie hangs up the phone and returns to the table. 

“I maybe should’ve told her where I was going,” Buck says with a wry smile. 

“Maybe,” Eddie says, eyes sparkling the way they do when he thinks something is funny. 

“Not gonna ask me why I didn’t?”

Eddie shrugs. 

Buck scrubs a hand through his hair. “I guess you already know,” he says. 

Overwhelmed. That’s the second feeling he finds. 

…

Exhaustion, Buck discovers when he wakes on Eddie’s couch in the morning, is the third. It’s easier to unravel than the others, clearly visible from its point of origin all the way to the home it’s made in him. Physically and emotionally, Buck is tired. 

It’s not a new feeling, not by a long shot. It’s a little like an old friend, actually, comforting in its familiarity. Exhaustion is temporary. Exhaustion tells him that he’s still healing, that he won’t be stuck in his own head forever. 

Buck sends Bobby a quick text, one that receives a response almost immediately. He wonders for a moment what woke him, but doesn’t have to wait long to find out. 

He hears Christopher before he sees him, and immediately a smile stretches across his face. Buck sits up, and within seconds has an armful of the best kid in the universe. 

“Hey, kid,” he says, voice still raspy with sleep. 

“Hey, Buck,” Christopher replies. He pulls back and sits on the coffee table. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Buck says. “I missed you!” He ruffles Christopher’s hair. 

Christopher narrows his eyes, and for a moment, he looks exactly like Eddie. “You’re lucky I just woke up,” he says, patting his hair back down. 

A bright peal of laughter slips from Buck’s lips. 

In this moment, Buck feels warm. 

…

On the way to his appointment, Maddie calls. Buck feels a flash of frustration, followed in an instant by guilt. The two intertwine, and settle somewhere above his diaphragm. 

“Hi Maddie,” he answers. 

“Hey Buck,” she says. Her voice, contained by his Jeep’s speakers, sounds small. 

The guilt in his chest grows and squirms. 

“Are you on your way to the doctor?” Maddie asks. 

Buck swallows against the inexplicable urge to snap and slows to a stop as he reaches a red light. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yep,” he answers, trying not to let any irritation bleed into his voice. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Maddie, I’m fine,” Buck says, just a little too quickly. He can practically hear the frown on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. “I really am okay. I just…”

Buck tries to follow the frustration to its origin, tries to find the words to explain why he can’t embrace her questions and worry with the same enthusiasm he’d had for Christopher and comes up empty. 

“It’s okay, Buck,” Maddie says gently. “I know this is hard.”

An ugly part of Buck wants to snap, no, no you don’t know, but Buck pushes it ruthlessly down. “I think I just need some time,” he says instead. 

“Okay,” Maddie says. “Just… don’t let yourself spiral alone. You know I’m here for you, whether you want me to be or not.”

Unexpectedly, Buck is hit with a flood of gratitude. “I know,” he says softly. “I know I’m not alone.”

He’s surprised to hear himself say it, and even more surprised to find he means it. Countless emotions lay tangled in his chest, but loneliness is not among them. 

…

The waiting room is quiet and sterile. Buck’s far from the only person sitting in it, but aside from the occasional clearing of a throat, no one makes a noise. It’s oppressive in a way the quiet hadn’t been the night before, and Buck feels stuck in it, choked by it. 

Time seems to move like molasses as Buck watches the interminable jerking motions of the second hand on the clock before him. Impatience, he thinks, is what he’s feeling now. 

Impatience is as familiar to Buck as exhaustion, and he’d half expected it to be the final knot he needed to unravel in order to begin processing, as Eddie put it. Maybe he’s grown, though, because it only really feels like a peripheral piece of the mess in his chest. 

A nurse calls his name, and it seems to evaporate. He’s sure it’ll come back when he finds out what test is next, but for now, there’s one less loose end to strangle him. 

…

At first, when Dr. Salazar asks how he’s feeling, Buck tells her what he knows to be true. 

“I’m getting my strength back,” he says, waiting for the next shoe to drop. 

When it does, it’s not the one he’s expecting. The newest feeling in his chest, draped delicately over the others, is disbelief. 

“Really?” he asks when Dr. Salazar says he can return to work. He kind of wants to prod her, to remind her what it is he does for a living. It’s not like he’ll be going back to a pile of paperwork. 

Well, actually he will, but that’s not really the point. 

“Do you want a second opinion?” she asks, and the thing is, Buck kind of does. 

Not because he doesn’t trust Dr. Salazar, he does, but because he’s all too familiar with the heartbreak of getting the all clear and having it pulled away at the last second. 

Buck remembers the pain in his leg that he would’ve sworn was just a pulled muscle and finally puts a name to the feeling that’s been driving his anger every time someone asks if he’s okay. 

Dread. The feeling that something terrible is still around the corner. That the universe is holding its breath, waiting for Buck to let his guard down. 

The only constant Buck’s ever really had is change, so when he asks, he half expects Dr. Salazar to say that everyone comes out the other side different. Instead, she tells him, in a way that makes Buck think of Bobby more than anyone else, that everyone finds their own way back. He thinks he understands why Eddie recommended her. 

“Thank you,” Buck says finally. “I think that helps.”

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Salazar says with a nod. “And Mr. Buckley– if you find yourself struggling with this experience more than you expect to, I have resources I’d be happy to share with you. It’s not unusual to have mixed feelings in a situation like this.”

Buck ducks his head and smiles. “Someone else said the same thing. He, uh– he said the best thing I could do is let myself feel them all.”

Dr. Salazar smiles. “He sounds like a smart man,” she says. 

“He is,” Buck agrees. 

…

Buck doesn’t call Maddie to tell her the good news. He doesn’t call Bobby or Eddie either. He doesn’t call Hen, and he doesn’t call Chim. Instead, he walks until he finds himself on a bench in front of a small pond. 

If it weren’t for the fountain in the middle, the water would be placid, undisturbed by wind or rain on this sunny day. Buck knows better than to think that nothing bad can happen on a beautiful day, but this one in particular feels safe. He wonders if that’s a feeling he can trust. 

As he watches the ducks swim and occasionally dive, Buck finds himself again poking at the mess of emotions in his chest. 

There was a time when he’d have done anything to hear that he was cleared to work. His job is who he is. Hell, he’d said as much to evil-him in his coma dream. So there should be happiness, somewhere in that tangled web. Excitement, maybe. As much as he digs, though, Buck can’t find it. 

Relief. 

Overwhelm.

Exhaustion. 

Warmth. 

Frustration. 

Guilt. 

Irritation. 

Gratefulness. 

Disbelief.

Impatience.

Anger. 

Dread.

Buck stands from the bench and turns his back to the lake. There’s something left, something that tangles with everything else and constricts his chest when he tries to breathe too deeply. He looks up at the sky, and instead of clear azure, he sees dark clouds and rain. 

Cold water pools in the divots of his skin, and he hears himself volunteer for a job he knows is going to kill him. His vision goes white, and all that remains is pain. 

Buck blinks and the sky is blue. 

The final piece of the puzzle comes loose, a corner piece laid before him that is mocking in its simplicity. 

Fear. 

Buck is terrified.

[nekoannie-chan]

No escape

Title: No escape.

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader.

Word count: 427 words.

Square: D1 “Gaslighting.”

Rating: Mature.

Summary: You can’t escape.

Major Tags: Gaslighting, manipulation.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @steverogersbingo Steve Rogers Bingo round 3. SB3090.

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

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If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

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There was a time when Steve was everything you ever dreamed of in a relationship, but suddenly everything changed.

At first, things seemed perfect. He was caring, attentive, and always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel special.

However, over time, things began to change in subtle ways. All of these changes left you.

The first time you noticed something strange was during a party at Stark Tower. You had noticed that Steve often wandered off to talk to Sharon, but every time you asked him about it, he smiled and assured you that they were just friends.

“You're overreacting,” he would say. “Sharon and I are just talking about old missions. There's nothing else; there's no need to be jealous.”.

After a few weeks, she convinced you to live together in her house, but after a while, you noticed how your things disappeared and reappeared in strange places in the house. When you mentioned what was happening to Steve, he laughed softly.

“You're getting a bit forgetful, don't you think?” he said.

One night, after a dinner with the Avengers, you argued with Steve. You were sure you had seen him flirting with a woman in the bar, but when you confronted him, he flatly denied what had happened.

“What are you talking about?” he asked with a confused look on his face. “I haven't even talked to anyone but you tonight. I think you're imagining things.

Each time this kind of situation started to become more and more constant,

“Steve, I don't think something's right,” you told him one night over dinner. “I've been feeling very confused lately, like I can't trust my own memory.”

Steve put down his fork and looked at you with mock concern.

“Honey, you've been so stressed out with work. Maybe you should take some time off and get some rest.”

You nodded; after all, Steve was always right.

One day, while Steve was on a mission, you decided to go through his desk. At the bottom of a drawer, you found a small notebook full of detailed notes about your conversations and your daily movements.

When Steve returned from his mission, he found you with the notebook in your hand, tears streaming down your face.

“What is this, Steve?” You asked him, your voice breaking.

“It's for your own good,” he said. “I needed to do this to make you realize that you can't handle things alone. You need my help."

It was then that you realized you were trapped, and there was no escape.

[cocoscurios]

Me: I'm so busy, I need to finish a few projects.

Also me: So we should definitely start a new project then?

Anyway, chapter-by-chapter commentary for The Hour, the Spot, the Look, the Words, starting now!

Chapter One: A Place to Call Home Fun fact: I originally planned for The Hour to be a series of drabbles (I was writing Important Nothings at the time and wanted to do a Darcy/Elizabeth project in the same style). I very quickly changed direction when I realized I had a ton of material ready to go in the form of a million D/E scraps accumulated over years of writing about these two idiots. Also, I had no idea what to use for a chapter title here, but I was working in a library at that point, and A Place to Call Home was an enormously popular series with our patrons (I put those DVDs away so. many. times.). Voila, chapter title.

The newlywed Darcys had, at last, arrived at Pemberley, and Fitzwilliam had dismissed the servants.

“I will show Mrs. Darcy around the place,” he had said.

Elizabeth glowed with happiness at the words Mrs. Darcy, and Mrs. Reynolds had positively beamed at the pair of them. Mrs. Reynolds is lowkey the hero of Pride and Prejudice, and, let's be real, she ships Elizabeth/Darcy harder than any of us.

Fitzwilliam offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

She took it with a smile and allowed him to lead her up the stairs, giggling as his pace increased and he took the top few steps at a run.

He turned around to look at her, his face shining with a boyish delight that she had never seen before.

“What would you like to see first?” he asked.

“Oh, I do believe I should inspect everything,” said Elizabeth archly. “The mistress of Pemberley ought to, you know.”

He smiled at this phrase. “I quite agree.” Some Courtney Lore that I have alluded to: my best friend and I came up with elaborate backstories and headcanons and scenarios for pretty much everything in Austen, and especially P&P, and this scene has lived in my mind, in one form or another, since I was about sixteen. We basically plotted out The Newlywed Tour as a way to thoroughly map Pemberley. I could draw up the blueprints if I had to. 

And so he did show her around the place, all of the rooms that she had seen before, and many, many more that she had not.

“I am a bit frightened, Fitzwilliam, of getting lost in your house.” 

“Our house,” he corrected. “And you will learn your way around soon enough.”

“That is very true,” she said. “And after all, I do not intend to be apart from you long enough to have the chance to lose my way, so I shall always have a guide.”

The tour was very enjoyable, but still more was the pleasure of feeling her hand in his, and of hearing his obvious gratification in speaking of Pemberley, his eager anticipation of showing her all of his favorite spots in the house and on the grounds, and his wish for her to see them all to their best advantage. She let the sound of his voice wash over her as he told her of names, and dates, and events, content to listen and to admire him equally as well as the estate.

He led her to yet another door, pausing slightly before opening it. They stepped into an elegant, airy sort of room with a spectacular view. 

“This was my mother’s favorite room,” he said softly. I'll explore it eventually, but my headcanon is that Darcy's relationship with his mother was much more complicated than with his father. It wasn't bad! He loved her very much! But the dynamic was complex! 

“It is beautiful,” Elizabeth breathed, leaning into his arm and taking in the sight. The windows were large, offering a delightful prospect of the grounds glistening with snow, and it would be an even more magnificent sight in the full bloom of spring. It seemed a serene, restful space; she could easily see why Lady Anne had loved this room. I struggle with writing descriptions of places. I vividly recall trying to write about this damn room, when all I wanted was to put IT'S BREATHTAKING, THIS IS A BIG GESTURE, LET'S MOVE ON. I'm just saying, this mediocre paragraph took ages and caused me physical pain. 

“I would like for you to have it.” He had watched her intently and seen all the delight that had passed over her face.

She looked up at him, startled. 

“Oh, no, if it was your mother’s favorite, it should stay as it is." She thought of his father’s favorite room, kept so perfectly that the miniature of Wickham still remained. One of those details about Darcy that I find endlessly fascinating. I want to know how often he goes into that room; if he avoids it entirely or averts his eyes from That Man when he's in there or if he just grits his teeth and bears it.   "I could not possibly--”

“Georgiana and I have already discussed it,” he said, looking at her earnestly. “This has not been our mother’s sitting room for a very long time. If you like it, it is yours.” Headcanon about Darcy is that he includes Georgiana in a lot of this sort of decision-making. 

“I do like it,” said Elizabeth, touched.

“It is settled then.” 

He squeezed her hand gently, looking pleased. She took one last look at the room before they shut the door once more. The view really was breathtaking, and it was hers. The house was hers. This wonderful, honorable, good man was hers. What had she done to deserve such happiness?

Lost in these thoughts, she scarcely noticed that Fitzwilliam had paused again, looking wistful.

“Georgiana and I used to race down this passage,” he said, smiling slightly at the reminiscence. 

Elizabeth looked at him with amazement.

“When?” she asked. She was unable to picture it.

“It would have been when I was about sixteen or so,” he said, “just after my mother died. Georgiana was four. My father--” he hesitated. “That was a difficult period for all of us. I spent most of my time with Georgiana. It seemed to bring her some happiness, and we spent hours up here.” He gave a crooked little smile. “We made a great deal of noise and destroyed our stockings." Darcy is the best big brother ever, guys. I'm not sure what else to tell you.

And Elizabeth could picture it now: her husband, so much younger than she had ever known him, comforting his little sister by running up and down this passage, laying aside his own grief to help relieve hers. There were so many little things like this that she did not know about him; a seemingly endless stream of evidence to prove how kind he had been for so long, how rightfully beloved he had been to the people in his life, how badly she herself had misjudged him. The Mrs. Reynolds chapter in canon is SO IMPORTANT. Darcy is good and kind and generous to his people. He is not a complete jerk, totally reformed by Elizabeth. He is a situational jerk, rightfully shamed by Elizabeth to extend his natural goodness outside of his comfort zone. ;)

...Sorry, that's a pet peeve.

She wanted to know everything. 

They continued to wander through Pemberley, looking into more rooms than Elizabeth could count, and eventually found themselves at the top of another sweeping staircase.

“My father and I used to slide down this balustrade when I was a boy,” Fitzwilliam said fondly. “It is the best one in the house.” BLATANT HOMAGE TO ELLA ENCHANTED. Not even an homage. BLATANT STEALING FROM ELLA ENCHANTED. Ella/Char was my first real OTP (Felicity Merriman/Ben Davidson predates it, but I didn't have the terminology then. I've been a hopeless romantic since I was about six). I was thrilled to learn recently that Gail Carson Levine had some elements of Elizabeth and Darcy in mind with Ella and Char. Anyway, imagine your OTP, etc.

He smiled at Elizabeth’s expression. 

“I begin to believe, Fitzwilliam, that I shall never stop being surprised by you.” I think that Elizabeth loves this. 

This provoked from him a more mischievous look than she had imagined him capable of forming.

“I cannot always be serious,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “I will catch you at the bottom.”

With a laugh, she watched him go, feeling all of the privilege of seeing this side of him, and then followed him down. One of the things I return to, again and again, is Elizabeth getting a side of Darcy that few others see. It's just so warm, guys, I don't know. <3 

[maraudereestauderelb]

At Night in New Orleans

Hello Hello,

welcome to a little OS with everybody's (my) favorite vampire: Lucien Castle!

In the next days, I'm also going to post another version of this story with the other girl's POV who's featured in this chapter and it's going to be reader x Kol, so be excited for that!

Let me know if you want to be tagged for that :)

"Looks like we have new guests, ladies.", Josh called from behind the bar, when suddenly a group of people entered the Rousseau's. Cami who was just cleaning up a table groaned, when she realized who of all people in New Orlean's came trotting in. Klaus looked at her with a smug grin before following his sudden best lad Lucien to the bar. The youngest of the Mikaelson brothers Kol took a great look around the room and then decided to strode over to the pool table, where a few guys were having a game and sharing some beers.  

Elijah, the oldest of the three brothers was accompanied by his little minion Tristan and his sister Aurora, who was holding her head held high as she followed them to one of the many tables.  

"Y/N, you'll do the bar with Josh, while Y/BFFs/N and I are taking the orders on the table.", she said to the Y/H/C young woman, who was just drawing two glasses of beer. Camille wasn't going to deal with Klaus tonight, and it seemed like the club was filling up, after the vampires had appeared.  

"You alright doing the bar, or do you want to switch?", Y/BFFs/N had asked her best friend, when she put down a tablet of dirty glasses and threw an annoyed look at Klaus and Lucien who were laughing audibly on their barstools, slamming their palms on the wood and throwing their head back in big motions. It seemed like they had already had their good amount of alcohol before they had arrived in here.  

"I'll be fine, but seems like someone wants something to drink very badly." Your best friend looked up and saw Kol Mikaelson waving at her with a devilish smirk on his lips. "Wish me luck.", she said, but rolled her eyes in annoyance, as she walked over to the pool table. 

Yes, luck was definitely what they needed with this load in here. Both Y/N and Y/BFFs/N were born in New Orleans, so that the city being inhabited by vampires wasn't a big secret to them. 

Though finding out that their high school friend Josh had been turned had been a little shock to them, but in the end, it hadn't changed their friendship a bit, it might have even made it a little stronger.  

The girl handed beer to the couple in front of her, before moving her attention to the new guests. She realized that Klaus had the decency to serve himself a bottle of vodka, from behind the bar together with two glasses. He poured himself one shot after another, laughing and yelling the lyrics to the music that was playing in the bar. Y/N ignored his outrageous behavior, acted like she hadn't seen him nicking that bottle and walked over to them.  

"Hey, can I get you anything?" She knew Cami had told her to always act polite, no matter how much 'you want to punch their faces into a wall', but Y/N had to try very hard.  

"Hello sweetheart, you don't mind me serving myself a little, do you?" 

"Not at all.", she smiled at him with a put-on smile, "As long as you pay." Klaus only laughed at that and lifted his glass to poor his drink, as to say 'cheer to that.', but the young woman had her attention on his friend. She didn't know much about him, only that he was Klaus' friend and a lot of trouble -which wasn't any surprise to her. But Lucien had stopped bellowing to the music with his companion - not that the Original had realized, being way too self-centered to notice anything but himself - instead he was hanging halfway over his stool, looking towards the table, Elijah was sitting with Tristan and his sister.  

Y/N looked him up and down for a second. He was dressed in black pants and a black button down, his dark brown hair was slightly disheveled - probably the drunken state of them, though she had to admit he looked rather handsome with those full lips and these sunken hazel eyes, which were digging into the back of Aurora's head.  

"Excuse me, can I get you anything.", she asked him as well, hoping he'd just ignore her so she could finally move on, but of course with his vampire senses Lucien was easily hearing everything she did down to her heartbeat, so when he turned around and her heart was suddenly beating faster than she had anticipated, Lucien gave her one of his most dashing smiles. "Yes, darling?"  

He looked even more attractive up front, she thought to herself and almost forgot to take a breath.  

"Can I get anything for you?", she tried to sound professional, but the slight stutter in her voice was barely able to be hidden.  

"Whiskey, no ice. And please excuse my friend, he has no manners.", he pointed at Klaus, and Y/N wanted to hit herself for the chuckle that had escaped her.  

Said turned his attention towards their conversation: "No manners? I recall I had learned the complexity of manners before you were even born." "Sure.", Lucien said, but didn't move his gaze from her as she left to get his drink done and winked at her with a smirk, which turned her cheeks a little warmer.  

Trouble, Y/N. Nothing but trouble. 

"What's your name, love?", he just called over the bar table, chuckling and leaned back in his chair, when she came back to give him his drink.  

"None of your business.", she smiled politely and turned around, ready to stalk off. "Well, it's just fair, seeing that you seem to know mine." He raised an eyebrow provokingly, waiting for her to move her attention back to him.  

For a slight second Y/N was fighting with herself. Stop flirting. This will only get you in trouble. But the handsome vampire seemed to be down to play with fire and why not have some fun, when it's just so easily granted.  

She smiled: "Lucien Castle, I suppose it is." 

Said grinned and leaned forward: "One and only, darling." 

"I have heard from you, but it's such a pity you haven't heard from me." 

She grabbed the empty bottle Klaus had slammed back on the table without even looking at them. "Well then make me interested in getting to hear from you." 

Lucien rested his arm onto the bar propping up his upper body, but Y/N only chuckled and walked away with the words: "Something's telling me you already are." 

While she was serving other guests and cleaning up the counter, Lucien hadn't moved his gaze from her. Always a smirk on his lips, when she rolled her eyes at one of the customers. 

He had stopped paying attention to Aurora, who was still sitting at the table, rather bored, while her brother and Elijah were catching up on old time.  

"Hey, Y/N, could you just clean those classes for me, a big group of people just came in and want to order? You're an angel.", Josh said thankful as he walked over to her and put four empty beet glasses down.  

"Sure, no problem." She grabbed them and walked over to the sink turning on the water. She could still feel Lucien's eyes fixed on the back of her head, but she was trying her hardest to ignore him. Scraping the glasses clean, she turned her attention to the opposite direction from where he was sitting, watched Josh serving the new customers who had just arrived. How much she wished she could switch with him right now and wouldn’t have to deal with such an obnoxious asshole. Slightly frustrated she reached for the next glass, but her luck wasn't on her side and her soap covered fingers lost the hold on it, which send it flying into the water filled sink with a big splash. In seconds her white blouse was soaking wet and she groaned annoyed, when she heard the chuckle coming from the counter. 

"Need some help there darling?" The girl's cheeks flushed at his words and threw a look towards her blouse, which was now transparent in the light, making her white bra visible. Great. 

Ignoring his words she stormed into the kitchen, knowing that she always had a spare shirt in her locker. 

She hurried with getting the new blouse, knowing that guests were waiting outside. But as she had just unbuttoned the wet one, the door to the kitchen was pushed open in speed and Lucien was standing in front of her. 

"Hey, Y/N.", he smirked and she heard, how his voice turned darker at the mentioning of her name. And gosh, it made her knees go week.  

"You're not allowed to be back here!", she was angry, pulling her shirt over her bra quickly, but secretly knowing it was no use. 

"Oh? Is that so?", Lucien didn't lose his slightness, instead he came closer, invading her personal space, until her back was pressed against the kitchen counter.  

"So, pretty.", he grinned.  

Y/N wanted to push him away, but with his vampire senses he was faster and grabbed for her wrists.  

"Ah. Ah. Ah. Behave sweetheart, we don't want to cause any attention here, now do we?"  

Despite her wanting to get away from him a second ago, she suddenly was feeling like his words made more sense and she nodded in agreement, dropping her arms to her side. 

"Good girl. Now listen to me. You'll meet me outside the bar after your shift is over, okay? In that alley to the left. You won't make a sound and I promise you, we'll have some fun tonight." She nodded again. Why not? It sounded like a lot of fun and he was handsome, she couldn't deny that. His green eyes were still looking deeply into hers, when he said his last words before disappearing: "Now, go back to work and forget that I was in here. I'll see you after your shift, Y/N."  

The warm summer night breeze hit Y/N, when she made her way out of Rousseau's. Normally she'd go straight home after such an exhausting night, ready to hit the sheets. But not tonight. Her legs automatically walked her towards the dark passage next to the bar and despite the creepy vibe it was sending, Y/N didn't think twice to enter it, when she saw someone leaning against the prick wall.  

"Oh, hello darling. It is so wonderful of you to join me.", a grin spread over Lucien's entire face as he draped his arm around her waist pulling her closer. Y/N chuckled uncomfortably: "Yes, I was actually rather exhausted tonight, but I'm glad I changed my mind and came to see you."  

"That's a good girl. Now do me a favor, don't scream." And before she had the chance to ask what was going on, Lucien had pressed her against the wall and a sharp pain was suddenly piercing through her body. She wanted to push Lucien away, but he had grabbed her wrists placing them over her head, his other hand was pressed firmly against her abdomen, so she wouldn't move. Y/N wanted to scream for help but someone her tongue felt like it was tight into a knot every time she opened her mouth. The vampire's mouth was sucking on the nape of her neck, his razor-sharp teeth were digging into the soft skin. She could feel the blood leaving her system, but all she was able to do was whimper, hoping he would stop.  

A last try she opened her mouth again and whispered: "Please...I don't want to die.", and like she had pulled a plug, the man let go of her neck.  

"Oh, darling. I wasn't going to kill you. I told you we were going to have some fun." The corner of his lip was covered in blood and Lucien took a handkerchief from his pocket wiping it away. As he did so, Y/N took the chance to get away from him. "Na, don't run away love. We haven't even started." He reached for her wrist and pulled her towards his chest again. Once again, her Y/E/C eyes met his green ones.  

"Don't be scared of me." Five simple words, but they suddenly meant so much to her and she felt how she relaxed in his arms. He's right, what should she be scared about, the blood slowly running down her neck. Like a mechanism her hand rushed to her neck, but before she could touch the skin Lucien had gripped her hand to stop her. "Here love, drink this, to stop the bleeding."  

She could see the white of his eyes turning red and blood vessels appearing under them, as he bit into his lower arm. A stream of red blood was running down, dripping to the floor and without thinking twice the young woman took the arm and began to suck the blood from the wound.  

"Just like that, darling." She could feel the numbing pain from her neck disappear and her skin slowly grow back. 

"Now come with me." 

MASTERLIST

[yamcha-thelonewolf]

🫂Toriyama forgets, Yamcha doesn't!

This time I want us to relax a little bit. My last analysis, The Heart's Savior, was very challenging both for me who wrote it and for you who read it, so now it is only fair to lighten the load.

In a poll, I asked you whether you would prefer to know more about Yamcha's life as a fighter or as an ordinary earthling, and if you remember, the second choice won. So here I am analyzing a little trivia that has nothing to do with battles. Well... Sort of! Martial arts still has something to do with it, but it only serves as a background. In fact, I will tell you about an extremely strong friendship, not because the bond is actually intense but because it goes against the narrative choices of Toriyama and Toei Animation. Believe me, guys, this analysis could maintain the connection with a character we hear little about now. Lastly, just because I know it's a kind of topic that many people like, I'm going to talk somewhat about one of Yamcha's many looks.

Let's be clear, this is just my theory, it's quite silly, but at least it might make you smile a little... Well, I hope so!

Before we begin, it seems only fair to warn that the following is likely to be coincidental. Dragon Ball has never dwelled on details, at least not the ones I care about, so it is highly likely that this topic is meaningless. But... What if it doesn't? Assuming Yamcha has a life of his own in this show, talking about it might be worthwhile... Because it would once again show what a beautiful person he is in everyday life.

So... Let's get started!

Don't worry, I told you. I am not going to talk about Yamcha as a fighter, but as I had anticipated it is necessary to understand how incredible he is as a normal earthling.

We are at the end of the Fortuneteller Baba Arc. Goku has finally found out where the last dragon ball is and so sets off with Upa to resurrect his father Bora. Meanwhile, Yamcha and the others await their friend's return at Baba's palace. It is during this wait that Yamcha reflects at length on his own life and he finally decides to ask Muten to make him his pupil.

A new orange Gi is definitely needed!

Freeze! It is not the Turtle School uniform that I want to talk about. Let's go back for a moment... A few hours before the 22nd Tournament begins.

Alright! We've got it!

We are on the plane bound for Papaya Island. Bruce Lee Yamcha has completed his training under Muten, and with this proud pretty face he lets us know that we are going to see some good things. He also seems more mature. He is in his 20s. Guys, many things could be said about this drawing, but in this case I will simply dwell on his outfit. This is the first time we have seen Yamcha in such an elegant look. We were used to seeing him in martial artist outfits or otherwise with looks more suited to his wild nature, so this is a very nice surprise. For a change, he looks great. I mean, you can dress and style him any way you like: Yamcha has the incredible power to be charming in any way. Yes, even with that bowl hair from DBZ...

Jeez, I love him. Let's go back to our outfit now.

Some will remember it for sure, but for those who do not know I want to let you show that this dress has its own origin.

One more step back now.

We are in the 21st Tournament Arc. Yamcha is in town with Bulma and he's training on his own. Muten's only pupils are Goku and Krillin. Many people do not pay attention to it, but if these two boys managed to get into the Turtle School it is because of a character who unfortunately met a brutal end in the show: Lunch.

The deal is clear: If Goku and Krillin can find a nice girl to stay at the Kame House, then Muten can train them. It is the only way to access. So we can safely say that if Goku has become so strong, it is also thanks to Lunch. Fortunately, she is found in her quiet form, but soon her secret would come out...

...Whatever! Goku and Krillin can finally train under Muten. Well, there really would be so much to say about Lunch. She is a character who deserves a lot. She should not have disappeared at all after the great contribution she made to Goku and Krillin. Not only that. She even defeated some Red Ribbon soldiers, she helped Yamcha defeat some criminals because he had a broken leg, in a filler she saves Goku from an attempted "kidnapping," and among many other things she allowed to find front row seats during tournaments! Seriously, she would deserve a separate post.

If we look at Lunch as a function of the protagonist, it is undeniable that she was the mother Goku never had. At least in her good personality.

The same of course applies to Krillin. Let's think it through. She cooked for them, cuddled them before bed, and who knows how many other mother hen things she did. Goku definitely lacked such a figure, so this is also why I consider Lunch an important character in his growth. If Bulma is more like an older sister, Lunch is definitely his mommy. Have you noticed that? Every person Goku meets represents a family member. It's extremely cute.

Be that as it may, as proof that Lunch is a real mom to the two pupils, she decides to give them a nice gift at the end of their training.

Tadaaan! Okay, I admit that Goku and Krillin are really funny dressed like this. They look like two little gangsters, something like Joe Pesci and Robert De Niro as kids, but that's okay. Lunch sewed these outfits for them, and that's what matters. It was done with love.

Seeing her satisfied like a loving mommy getting excited for her kids going to school for the first time always moved me. Although in this case the destination is the tournament, the meaning is the same: Lunch gave importance to their big day by honoring it with this outfit as awkward as adorable.

Well, friends. Now that the puzzle is almost complete, we can go back to our boy! As I said at the beginning, Yamcha begs Muten to make him his third pupil. Once inside the school, it doesn't take long to realize that for all of his three years of training he has been dealing with Lunch as well.

It should be mentioned, however, that the two had actually met for the first time during the Red Ribbon Arc, when everyone leaves to help Goku.

This is the first real moment when they meet. Lunch is in her "evil" form, but a little later Yamcha will also make the acquaintance of her good side.

This meant that during these three years he also cohabited with Lunch, who must surely have cooked for him as well. I think it's a really interesting detail. Unfortunately, we don't know what has happened during these three years, but I would like to point out that this is the first time Yamcha has dealt so closely with a girl other than Bulma. Imagining that he is still very shy with girls, I have no doubt that he has been embarrassed many times in being so near to her. Stop!, I'm not saying he had feelings for her, but she is still a pretty girl, most of the time very naive as well as sensual, so I wouldn't be surprised if Lunch made Yamcha blush without even meaning to. By the way, it would be interesting to analyze Bulma's feelings in this situation, since she has visited Yamcha several times. I don't think she was ever jealous of Lunch, but she may have punched her boyfriend in the head a few times anyway just because.

...They were so cute...

Okay, now the topic is clear, isn't it? The bond between Yamcha and Lunch is one of the least explored things in Dragon Ball. There is no point in talking about it because it leads nowhere, but believe me, for an earthlings fan it is worth discussing.

First, let's start by saying that this is a different relationship from that she had with the other two pupils. If with Goku and Krillin Lunch was able to act like a caring mother, the same cannot be said for Yamcha. Yamcha is not a child like them. He is almost the same age as Lunch, so the relationship must be absolutely equal: they are two friends. Nothing more, nothing less. This does not mean that Lunch took less care of Yamcha. Surely she must have avoided giving him a good-night kiss and things like that, that is.

As for her second personality, it becomes more complicated. We will never know whether "Bad" Lunch felt attracted to Yamcha. We know she loves wild guys and Yamcha certainly is, but I don't think she was that disloyal to her friend Bulma. In short: I am convinced that there was never any sexual attraction between Lunch and Yamcha. They have always been two great friends, proving that friendship between boys and girls can exist.

So... Maternal or not, one thing is certain: when the big day comes again, Lunch gives her gift to Yamcha too.

I don't know how many of you have thought about this. I'm sure I'm not the first one who has thought about it, but geez... It's a detail that has always excited me for no real reason. Perhaps because it is one of those details that indirectly deepens the relationships between Dragon Ball characters, which are unfortunately poorly told.

I mean, try to think of the scene!

Yamcha at that time was not really the type of guy to wear stuff like that. He has lived for many years in the desert, where it is not necessary to wear fancy clothes because the only priority is to survive. Yet in the desert, we don't know how, he also learned good manners, especially with girls. I'm sure he did everything possible not to disappoint Lunch's expectations. Yamcha has always been like that. In order to please others he has often sacrificed himself, so I think something like that happened in this case as well. Let's try to put ourselves in his shoes. He may be gentle and all, he surely must have thanked Lunch for this, but how much he must have cringed wearing this?

It is a bit like putting a bow tie on a wild wolf...

This is precisely how I imagine him: deeply embarrassed and on the verge of sinking underground. "Boy, I feel so ridiculous!"

Don't worry, silly, it actually fits you much better than you think. I don't believe anyone found him as funny as Goku and Krillin were the first time they wore that thing. Anyway, I assume that this is why we don't see himwith that Al Capone hat. "Hell, I can accept the dress... but spare me that thing!!"

Here you can see Yamcha now comfortable in his elegant look and Lunch by his side totally unaware that she was the one who sewed it for him. By the way, I think it's superficial to say this but... It's really nice that she handmade this dress for Yamcha. I mean, his body is much bigger than Goku and Krillin's. She must have struggled a lot! It's a proof to how much she loved Yamcha, too.

Come on, look at her! Here Lunch is as worried as everyone about Yamcha's condition after Tenshinhan broke his leg. The way she addresses him does indeed have something maternal about it, but it mainly shows that she has become attached to him over those three years.

She is so precious...

...even when she is about to kill Yamcha and Bulma in one shot.

Gosh, I love her! It is so nice that everyone has learned to accept Lunch as she is. Yamcha is like that. He always accepted his friends, no matter how they are, he is always there for them and always took care of them. I am convinced that he loved Lunch as he loves everyone else.

So... the topic could end here, but it is not like me to conclude so trivially. I like to go beyond the impossible, in fact even this time I want to extend the whole situation.

The real point of the topic is another.

Unfortunately, Lunch's fate is the most horrible of all. In truth, I don't know which is worse between being forgotten and being ridiculed throughout the show. Let's just say that neither Lunch nor Yamcha were lucky. They also have that in common, besides the fact that both are very close to Tien. I would call it the trio of outcasts. However, if we at least know what happens to Yamcha during DBZ, we know nothing about Lunch. The last time we see her is in a bar, completely drunk because Tien is dead. Another appearance, which is really brief, is during the Buu Saga, when she gives her energy to Goku. I consider these two scenes to be frighteningly sad because in both cases we see her alone and that hurts me a lot. It is as if she has lost contact with her friends. After all, she could not even return to the Kame House because it was now inhabited by Krillin, Android 18 and their daughter. There was no place for her anymore. This hurt even more, because we really don't know what happened to her. Finally, she appears without ever saying anything in the OVA Dragon Ball: Yo! Son Goku and His Friends Return!!

This is quite consoling, but it is not enough. Her presence is highly unnecessary. I think she was thrown into the rabble just to actually pay homage to those who were Goku's friends, but what's the point if she doesn't even say a word? She certainly deserved more since she had been forgotten for almost two decades.

Whatever... Thank goodness Yamcha exists!

He is seriously the hero we do not deserve.

Well yes, Yamcha may be the one who partly solves this great riddle:

...What ever happened to Lunch all this time?

The truth is that there are no answers. Everyone can imagine what they want. One can think that she stayed with Tien (although DBS has ruled out this possibility for the umpteenth time), one can think that she opened a food truck or that she came to visit Muten sometimes. I personally believe that she has not completely lost contact with her friends. At least, not with Yamcha. I mean, we've seen how Yamcha is not the type to quit. When it comes to loving someone, Yamcha is always in the front row. This makes me believe that he has not stopped seeing Lunch. He is too loyal to forget a person who has done so much for him. Plus, if we add that Yamcha was left alone at one point in the story, it makes even more sense that he spends his time with an equally "lonely" friend. I imagine Yamcha as a very nostalgic guy. It would be unthinkable for him to exclude such an important memory as Lunch from his life.

At least, that's how it is for me. Until now I didn't know it for sure, but a few days ago I had an epiphany. That's when I realized that maybe Lunch is still there, we just don't see her.

Dragon Ball Z: The Tree of Might, 1990.

Did you notice anything?

Oh god yes, it's that damn gangster outfit again. I mean, the dress sewn by Lunch. Although it is difficult to identify the timeline of this film, it is still clear that we are in a context far away from OG Dragon Ball. At first I anticipated that all this might just be a coincidence, but personally I like to believe that there is much more behind it. Assuming that indeed it is the dress made by Lunch, we need to consider one thing: it can never be that one she gave him for the 22nd Tournament. It would be really old, plus I don't think it would be able to hold up Yamcha's new body. He's now in his 30s, he has not only grown taller but also added a lot of muscle mass. It is practically impossible for him to have been able to wear it. So... Maybe Yamcha asked Lunch to renew that old dress? Think about it, it makes sense to me. Yamcha is also very cheap. Being a former thief, he knows the value of money well and knows that it is easier to lose it than to find it. He is really funny, but also very cute.

The money accumulated through baseball certainly does not change his stingy nature, that's why it is not strange to think that he turned to Lunch. Of course, also as a matter of affection. I think Yamcha is a guy who is very attached to things, especially if there are a lot of good memories behind them.

I mean, something could have happened like, "Hi Lunchie, how are you? Long time no see, it took me so long to find you! Let me guess, you're hiding from the cops, right?" and then... "Anyway, I wanted to ask you a favor. Going through my closet, I found that fancy dress you had sewn for me for the Tournament. Do you remember? Here it is. I tried to wear it but I only gained a hole in my pants. I'll let you guess where. So... Could you fix it for your bestie?"... So she would say: "Are you kidding, Yamcha? There's no way I'm going to fix that! I'll definitely sew you a new one!"

If so, we could assume that they are still in contact! It would really comfort me to know that Lunch is still part of the gang, even if we don't see her. Yamcha in this case could seriously be the link, simply because he is brought up to be.

That would be great.

I want to believe it.

After all...

...Toriyama may forget his characters, but Yamcha will never forget his friends.

Thank you!!

[celestiall0tus]

Future Projects

Hey y'all! I've popped up to share my latest projects that I will be working on moving forward. And, quite honestly, I'm excited. And for any that may ask, no, none of them are miraculous related. I've come to realize just how burnt out I am on Miraculous as I work on a little something I committed to that it is for the best that I have stepped away from Miraculous.

Alright! Let's get into this!

First on the block is Hazbin Hotel. With Day of the Fall at near completion (as I said, there is a page or two left to draw) I will be preparing another comic series with the star of this show being the original dick, Adam! This story will take place after he's killed by Niffty and falls to hell. This comic will heavily focus on the psychology of Adam because, honestly, I think it's fucking fascinating. There's so many layers to Adam, how he acts, what he's been told, and getting to unfold it all will be a wonderful delight.

This comic with Adam as our star will feature Roo as the main antagonist of sorts, but also Adam himself as reality comes to slap him in the face and he's left to see the consequences of his actions. The two unnamed exorcist angels (named Celeste and Astra by Roo) will be delegated to minor characters as their story was meant to be a catalyst for the Nephilim AU which is where this Adam story will also take place. In this AU, they were the first exorcist angels to fall. The first of many.

Again, I'm looking forward to this purely because of the psychology of Adam, what can be explored, and how even the most irredeemable on paper, can be shown the light. I truly do believe that Adam has that potential, and I'm going to explore it. For one lesson I learned personally is that sometimes we need to fall in order to get back up and see the light.

And as an additional little side note, I do have more plans with Roo because I find them and the other nameless entity interesting. What most would call the personification of good and evil, I call order and chaos. Which, honestly, is fucking cool.

NEXT! Steven Universe.

A little backstory. Before I was CelestialL0tus, I was a content creator known as Fushion-Frenzy. I was relatively known in the Steven Universe fandom on Deviantart back during the show's main run and its hay days. However, I was in a terrible mental head space at that time and didn't have the real help that I needed. I did, but it still took years after that to really ground myself. And one of the things I did was beg for attention without being able to return on the promises I made, so I deleted that account, running like a little bitch and ready to let Fushion-Frenzy die forever.

However, I have returned to some of the things I did while I was that. I won't be reprising all the characters I had in the SU universe as a lot of them was connected with an old friend's OC and I'm completely out of touch with him after an incident that neither of us took well. Well, I didn't. He still wanted to be friends after that, but I couldn't. The hurt ran too deep. Like a betrayal.

That's why I went forward with the Rejuvenation shorts to remake the OCs I had and wanted to keep. I'm working on stories to introduce them, but I will be starting with the one that started it all: Sunstone. I'll be starting with a mini comic that reunites her with Lapis Lazuli (because I once was an OCxcanon shipper and even now can't bring myself to tear away that aspect of Sunstone) after the events of the show, so roughly in Future-ish. As most of what I had done existed outside of the main group and operated on their own.

So, to sum it all up, I will be doing an Adam centric comic that dives into the psychology of him alongside diving into the old SU OCs I was once so ready to toss to the side.

For the people that follow me for Miraculous content, I am truly sorry, but I am severely burnt out on it. I will need time to get through the burn out and all I ask is that you be patient, please. I don't intend on abandoning those works. They still are some of my favorites, but I'm not going to force myself to work on them only to churn out subpar works. If I'm going to create, I will give it my all. Not something that I'll regret later.

Anyway, that's been my rambles. I hope y'all enjoy what I've got cooking.

[1141520851813892291920]

I can't stop having nightmares.

It's not abnormal for me, especially considering I just got put on new medication, but something about it feels... different. I can do nothing but watch and listen. I can't scream, can't breathe, can't so much as blink.

The nightmares are never the same. They follow a pattern, but it's not like they're recurring. Usually they involve the face or head somehow.

One night I was on the factory floor, in front of a conveyor belt. Heads would come past, separated from their bodies long before they got to me. My job was simple. All I had to do was remove their faces. They were ready for me, I didn't have to make any of the cuts, those were done before. I simply slipped my fingers beneath the flesh, and peeled. I wanted to stop. I didn't want to take their faces away. But all I could do was watch as hands I knew were not my own but must've been because I could feel them pull away the skin and discard it. I watched the faceless skulls be whisked away by the belt. They had no eyes. I envied them.

My eyes were being sutured shut. For a moment I felt what was almost relief. If my eyelids are stitched together, surely I can stop seeing. The relief curdled in me when I realized that I was watching the procedure. I could feel it, every time the needle passed through my skin, every tug of the thread. But still I could see. I wept. The tears did not escape my eyes. They were sewn closed, and yet the pattern of the thread is burnt into my mind.

My brain was being removed. On an intellectual level, I know I shouldn't have been able to feel those gloved hands as they so slowly tore through my cerebral matter, but that didn't make the agony go away, I watched as they pulled it apart, squeezing it between their fingers. They looked like a surgeon, but they took none of the care that is demanded of those who poke around in the brain in the waking world. After I was empty, so empty and yet still alive, still seeing, I felt as they plunged their hands back into my gaping skull. I watched as they took out what I knew was no longer there.

I die, and I kill, and I cry, and I maim. Even as the blood drips into my eyes I can still see.

Waking is the only mercy I find. My psychiatrist says maybe it's the new medication. I haven't told her I no longer take it. It makes it hard for my eyes to focus.

Hmmm...

Well, thank you for your account. While I certainly know the power of dreams and what they may hold, it is still...difficult to sift memories from nightmares from reality.

Though, by virtue of you being here and the...shall I say, flavor - for lack of a better term - of your statement, I will consider your dreams, if nothing else, prophetic of something attempting to...influence you.

I must admit, this one in particular...got under my skin - no pun intended. The removal of body parts, particularly the faces...well, it does seems like something my former faceless friends made their signature. That said, I cannot ignore the ever present theme of seeing. Counter intuitive, perhaps, to me, but I am...quickly adjusting to the idea that things Here are never as I originally assume them. I am resisting the urge to draw conclusions, to remain purposefully open to new information and whatever path that information puts me on.

There are...things are much more real, now, then they were for me previously. The...people, here, are real. My people. Which means I need to protect them. Which means...learning as much as I can, and that will require being wrong, often.

But I can be wrong. I think that's...probably ok. Especially with how horrible being right always tends to be. He told me this can be a fresh start.

I think I'll let him be right.

Which - does nothing for your nightmares, my apologies. But thank you for bringing this to me. Do tell me if things get worse. I can't promise to help, but I will always be here to listen.