#i’m not gonna list the characters we’ll be here for days

[welldressedbuthelladepressed]

this song is about this person, this song is about this person WRONG, these songs are about fictional characters i hold so closely to my heart that they are apart of me and i feel every emotion for them while listening to these songs

[n1ght0f-nyx]

MHA BOYS- you're pregnant

how the mha boys react when you tell them your pregnant. tags/warnings- pregnancy (obvi) aged up (post-canon) no negative reactions, this is so corny i hate it characters- izuku midoryria, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, denki kamanari, ejirio Kirishima, fumikage tokoyami, koji koda, mezo shoji, tamaki amajiki, hanta sero, tenya iida 

Izuku Midoriya

When you told Izuku the news, he froze mid-step, his eyes widening as your words sank in. “Really?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. You nodded, watching as his mind raced, almost seeing the gears turning behind his green eyes.

For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then, without warning, he pulled out his notebook, scribbling down notes and making lists at lightning speed. Baby-proofing the apartment, researching the best cribs, figuring out how to balance work and fatherhood—his brain was in overdrive.

But amid the frantic planning, you caught him stealing glances at your stomach, his lips curving into the smallest of smiles. He wasn’t saying much, but his actions spoke louder than words. When he finally put down the notebook, he reached for your hand, squeezing it gently.

“We’ve got this,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet determination. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo didn’t say anything at first when you broke the news. His usual fiery demeanor was replaced by a heavy silence as he processed your words. His red eyes were locked on you, intense and unreadable, as if trying to figure out what to do next.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice gruff but steady. “You serious?”

When you nodded, he didn’t explode or rant like you might have expected. Instead, he reached out and pulled you into a rough, but secure embrace. His arms tightened around you protectively, and you felt the shift in him. His protective instincts, already strong, seemed to go into overdrive. He wasn’t one for soft words, but his actions said it all.

Over the next few days, you noticed him being extra cautious—keeping a close eye on what you were eating, making sure you were comfortable, and even being more mindful of his temper around you. He wasn’t suddenly soft, but there was a newfound depth to his care.

One evening, you caught him looking at baby clothes online. “Just making sure the kid isn’t weak,” he grumbled when you asked. But there was a glint of something in his eyes—an excitement he’d never admit out loud.

Shoto Todoroki

When you told Shoto the news, he took it with his usual calm, his expression barely changing. But there was a brief flicker in his mismatched eyes—something deep, something reflective. He took your hand, holding it gently as he nodded.

“We’ll figure this out together,” he said simply, his voice steady.

You could see the wheels turning in his mind, though he didn’t voice all his thoughts. Instead, he became even more attentive than usual. He took on more around the house without a word, ensuring you were as comfortable as possible. It wasn’t overt, but you could feel the shift in him—a quiet resolve to be better than the father he’d had.

Sometimes, you’d catch him lost in thought, his gaze distant as he seemed to contemplate the future. But there was also a softness to him that hadn’t been there before—a subtle happiness that radiated from him whenever he was with you.

Denki Kaminari

Denki’s reaction was instant—a wide grin splitting his face as he practically bounced in place. "No way! We’re gonna be parents?!" His excitement was infectious, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He pulled me into a playful hug, his energy buzzing. "This is gonna be so awesome! I’m gonna teach them all about music, and video games, and... oh man, this is so cool!" But then, his expression softened, and he looked at me with surprising seriousness. "I’ll be here for you, babe. Every step of the way."

Eijiro Kirishima

Kirishima’s reaction was nothing short of pure joy. "We’re gonna be a family? That’s so manly!" he exclaimed, pulling me into the biggest hug. His enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself smiling as he rambled on about all the things he wanted to do for our baby. "I’m gonna be the best dad ever, I swear!" he declared, his eyes shining with determination. Then, more quietly, he added, "And I’ll be here for you, no matter what. We’ve got this."

Fumikage Tokoyami

Tokoyami’s reaction was more subdued, but the depth of his emotions was clear in his eyes. "A child," he said softly, his voice filled with quiet reverence. He took my hand in his, his touch gentle yet firm. "This is a profound responsibility, one I’ll carry with pride." His gaze met mine, filled with a determination that was uniquely his. "I’ll protect you both from any darkness that comes our way," he promised, his tone resolute. "You have my word."

Koji Koda

Koji’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed almost overwhelmed by the news. But then, a warm, gentle smile spread across his face. "We’re... we’re going to have a baby," he murmured, as if trying to wrap his mind around the idea. He reached out, his large hands enveloping mine in a comforting hold. "I’ll take care of you both," he promised softly. And then, almost as an afterthought, he added with a shy smile, "The animals will be so excited to meet the baby."

Mezo Shoji

Shoji’s reaction was calm, his many arms moving to gently envelop me in a protective embrace. "This is big news," he said quietly, his voice filled with a steady resolve. "But we’ll handle it together." He looked down at me, his expression softening. "I’ll make sure you’re safe, that you have everything you need." His touch was reassuring, a reminder of the quiet strength he always carried. "You and our child are my top priority now."

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki’s reaction was a mix of emotions, his face shifting from surprise to anxiety, and finally to a tentative smile. "Y-You’re... pregnant?" he stammered, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. I nodded, and he reached out hesitantly, his hand trembling as it rested on my stomach. "I’ll... I’ll do my best," he whispered, his voice barely audible. Then, more firmly, he added, "I’ll protect you both. I promise."

Hanta Sero

Sero’s reaction was instant and full of excitement. "No way! We’re gonna have a baby?!" he exclaimed, scooping me up in a playful hug. His smile was infectious, and I found myself laughing along with him. But then, he set me down gently, his expression turning serious. "I’m gonna be here for you, okay? Whatever you need, I’ve got your back." He squeezed my hand, his usual carefree demeanor giving way to a deeper sense of responsibility. "We’re in this together."

Tenya Iida

Iida’s reaction was immediate and methodical, his mind already racing with plans and preparations. "We need to start organizing everything," he said, his tone serious but filled with a quiet excitement. "Doctor’s appointments, a nursery... we’ll need to make sure everything is ready." But then, he paused, his expression softening as he took my hand. "But most importantly, I want to make sure you’re okay," he added gently. "I’m here for you, every step of the way."

[justwhisperingfantasies]

The One That Got Away -5-

Characters: Reader. - Jensen Ackles - Eric Kripke - Karl Urban - Antony Starr - Jack Quaid - Erin Moriarty - Karen Fukuhara - Chace Crawford - Tomer Capone - Seth Rogen -Lily [o.c] - Brett [o.c] - Frank [o.c] Summary: Jensen comes to Toronto to read over his contract with his lawyer and tries to make you realize your marrying the wrong guy. Finding out how far the limits can be pushed before something breaks. Warnings: Language. Drinking. Angst. The Boys Spoilers. My Master List Series Master List Tag List Hope y'all enjoy 🩵

October 2007.

“Ya know Ackles.” Jensen turned his head towards Jared but couldn’t take his eyes off her. “You won’t have to say anything if you keep staring like that.” He teased.

“Can’t help it.”

Jared shook his head. “So, what are you gonna say?”

“I really don’t know yet, but it’s happening this time.”

Her eyes went wide as they met Jensen’s, mouthing the words “help me.” she nodded to his uncle Larry. He was probably talking her ear off about something she didn’t care about.

He shook his head slowly as his lips twisted into a smirk.

She peered at him with her lips pressed tight. But then, her expression softened, and a smile broke out as Uncle Larry glanced back at her. The moment he turned away, though, her face went back to threatening, Jensen couldn’t help but laugh.

Pleading she stuck out her bottom lip.

‘Damnit you win ‘he thought

 “y/n!” Jensen yelled across the yard. She smiled and winked at him. “Come here!” She said a few words to Larry and began making her way over. As she got closer, Jensen popped the cap off a beer and passed it to her.

“Thank you. I owe you one.” She took a drink.

“I’m pretty sure you still owe me from the last cook out.”

“Sorry Ross, they expire if not used in 30 days.”

“Um, who made those rules?”

“Me.” She flashed him a smile.

“Hey if we are still going to the lake, let’s go.” Jared exclaimed looking at his watch “I wanna get a good spot.”

“No! They need to start Hoyte. I’m telling you Jensen he is going to be big.”  She argued as they spread out the blanket

“I don’t know….” He playfully taunted.

“Change the subject before she hits you Ackles.” Jared laughed. grabbing 2 of the blankets from the pile.

“She won’t hit me, she loves me.” He smirked at her.

“Keep bad mouthing my boys and we’ll just see about that.” She threatened him, making him laugh. “And you!” She pointed at Jared. “I can’t believe you Padalecki, bailing on your friends for a girl. Whatever happened to bros before hoes?”

The boys laughed. “Well, bro. Sex is always an exception to that rule.” Jensen explained making her roll her eyes.

“Come on Jared. It’s getting dark, it’s going to start soon.” Sandra whined

“I’ll see you two later.” Jared waggled his brows and walked away.

Jensen’s phone dinged as he sat down next to y/n on the blanket.

Jared: DO NOT CHICKEN OUT THIS TIME ACKLES!!

 A light chuckle escaped his lips after reading the message.

“What’s so funny over there?” She asked him

He cleared his throat, “Uh, nothin’ Jared being stupid.”

He took a deep breath stealing a whiff of her sweet perfume as she leaned in front of him, her arms stretching for the cooler. Her brows furrowed looking back at him.

“What? You smell good.” he confessed.

She chuckled. “Well, thanks.” She said sitting back up beside him.

“Look, I gotta tell you something.”

She stopped mid drink. “What did you do?”

“Why do you just assume I did something?”

“Because you’re you” she giggled.

“that’s just rude.”

“So, what’s up, Ross?”

“I um.” Her eyes flicked to the screen as the movie started to play, he needed to get this out. “Fuck it. “He turned his hat backwards and leaned in. He felt her breath hitch as his lips pressed against hers.

“Jensen are you sure about this?”

“Sweetheart, I’ve never been this sure about anything in my life.”

She smiled and slid her hand onto the back of his neck, pulling his lips back to hers.

He would always remember that night, the night when she finally became his.

Jensen

He blinked back the tears as his dream from his memories faded. He reached for his phone; through squinted eyes he looked at the time 7:43am. He knew she would be awake, his finger loomed over her name. ‘Fuck it’

It rang twice. “Hey, its y/n leave me a message and I’ll get back to ya.”

“Motherfucker.”

He called again.

“Jensen, Everything ok?”

He cleared his throat surprised she answered “Uh, yea.”

“You need something?”

“Do you remember the night we got together?”

“Jensen…”

“Hear me out.” he insisted

She sighed. “Ok...”

“Do you remember what movie was playing?”

“Did you really call me this early to ask me what movie we watched the night we got together?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t already awake.”

She chuckled. “Do you remember the movie?”

“I do.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He chuckled. “It was PS I love you.”

“I know. What about it?”

“I just wanted to see if you remembered.”

“I also remember your corny ass writing PS I love you on every note you left me in your trailer for a month after that.”

“Um, not corny, romantic”

She laughed.

“Ok maybe a little corny, but it was cute right?”

“Yes, Jensen it was cute.”

He stayed silent.

“Are you done reminiscing?” she asked.

“For now. So, what are you doing?”

“I had to take care of a few things. Lily is picking you up today, don’t worry I texted her your Starbucks order.”

“You’re an angel.”

“I don’t know about all that,

“I do.”

He heard a tapping sound

She sighed “Yes, I’ll be right there, calm down.”

“Well, tell Brett I said hi.”

“Probably not the best thing right now.”

“You guys still fighting?”

“Yea.”

“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have called.”

“You’re fine.”

“Do you want to get this done or do you want to talk to your boyfriend all day?” he heard Brett sneer.

“Ross, I gotta go. I’ll see you in a little bit k?”

“Ok.” He sighed as he hung up the phone.

Jensen.

“Aw, thanks Lil.” He took the coffee cup from her hand after settling in her passenger seat.

“Well, babes said if I didn’t want to deal with grumpy Jensen, I had to keep pumping you full of caffeine.” She remarked pulling out of the hotel parking lot.

He laughed. “She ain’t wrong.”

Lily tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she drove.

“So, how much shit did I stir up last night?” he asked

“No comment.” She said pulling into the complex.

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m not going into details, but it’s pretty bad.”

“Like I should stop with my shit?”

“Maybe just take a break today.” She said honking the horn twice 

He sighed and looked out the window. Jack and Karl came out separate doors.

“Where’s y/n?” Jack asked, getting in the backseat.

“She had some stuff to take care of. She’s meeting us at the studio.” Lily explained.

“Off tasting cakes?” Jensen’s stomach twisted at Karl’s question.

“Eh, something like that” Lily pulled out onto the road and started tapping her fingers again.

“What’s got you so nervous?” Jensen asked her.

“Uh, what makes you think I’m nervous?”

He looked down at her fingers and raised his eyebrows.

“Because I’m enjoying the song?”

Her phone started to ring, Lily’s hand rushed to the center console, grabbing it. Making the car swerve a little.

“Hey.” She answered, once it was to her ear.

“How’s that going?”

“Oh, I can imagine.”

“No. For real though that’s adorable.”

“I just gotta pick up Chace and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Ok, I’ll see you when you get there.”

“And you better fucking get there.” Lily snarled.

All 3 pairs of the boy’s eyes snapped to her.

“Bye babe.”

“What the fuck was that about?” Karl asked.

“Well, she’s going to be late. But promised she would be there.”

“Ya think he’s doing this on purpose?” Jack asked.

“Do you?” Jensen asked

“Well a, it’s the reading for Soldier Boy. He’s been jealous since Eric asked her to help with him. And b, Jensen.” Jack explained.

Lily huffed. “Yes, I think it’s on purpose.”

Jensen

The more the chairs filled, the more worried he got. He raised his wrist, looking at his watch.

“She will be here.” Karl whispered.

“Cutting it close, y/n”

He looked up when he heard her name, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight. Her eyes were slightly pink and puffy with small bags underneath.  She nodded at the comment, tilting her head down. Trying to hide her stress under the bill of her baseball cap.

“Alright. Looks like everyone is here.” Eric announced, “We wanted to do this table read to get a feel for chemistry and character interactions before we make everything official.”

She finally looked up, giving him a fake smile. He flashed one back. She looked over at Eric as he started again.

“Everyone this is Jensen he will hopefully be signing for the soldier boy role later today.”

“Just depends how many helicopters are in my contract Kirpke.” Jensen teased.

Everyone laughed except for the one person he was attempting to amuse. She shook her head and gave him a half smile; he took the small victory.

“Does anyone want a water, snacks, or coffee before we start?” Lily asked.

“Who made the coffee?” Antony asked, looking over to y/n

Lily huffed. “I made it exactly like she does.”

“Oh, yea I’ll take one then.” Antony laughed.

“So, any questions, concerns, comments, before we start?” Eric asked. Everyone shook their heads. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Reader

You glanced at Jensen, a smile spread across his face as his eyebrows jumped, making you chuckle.

Your eyes fell to the script as Eric cleared his throat.

Eric: “The scene cuts to a motel where Butcher, Hughie and Soldier Boy are. Soldier Boy empties a bag of food from Vought-a-Burger as Hughie scratches his ear and sees blood on his finger.”

Jensen glanced over at her; she was looking at her page smiling.

Jack: “What the hell?” he whispered. Looking at the blood on his finger.

Jensen: “Where’s the Chop Socky Oriental Sauce?”

He talked in a voice lower than his own, but not quite Dean’s.

Jack: “They … don’t have that… anymore.”

Jensen: “Why the fuck not?” 

Jack: “Uh, many… many good reasons.”

Jensen: “Did you get the other shit?”

Eric: Butcher takes out a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of pills.

Karl: “Here you go, guv.”

Jensen: “Man, I miss Bennies. It’s how we won D-Day, you know. We were wired to the fucking gills.”

Karl: “Listen, let’s have a little chat about this team-up, yeah?”

Jensen: “Yeah, what the hell do I need a team for? The last one handed me to the Reds.”

Karl: “And we got you out of that little pickle. We wrapped up Crimson Countess and delivered her like a fucking Christmas turkey, and I even sorted Gunpowder for you.”

Jensen: “Why am I supposed to be impressed with that?   That’s like killing Emmanuel Lewis.”

Light laughter filled the room.

Karl: Well, he grew up a bit since you last saw him. Anyway. You want payback on Payback don’t cha? Well, it just so happens we are experts at exterminating shitbag supes. You see it’s a whole different world out there now, son. We’re here to help you find your way.

Jensen: “Well I can find them on my own.”

Jack: “Are you sure? I mean, do you know what GPS is? Or- or Bluetooth. Or… I mean…. The internet?”

Jensen: “You made those words up?”

Jack: “No… no, no. Those are real words. Um… and you need those to find them. Alright? You need us.”

Karl: “The kids right. And all we ask in return is that you add one more name to the list.

Jensen: “Who?”

Karl: “A right cunt named Homelander.”

Jensen: “I’ve seen pictures. Who is he?”

Karl: “He’s the new you.”

Jensen: “No one’s the new me, pal….  But why him?”

Karl: “Let’s just say you’re not the only one that wants payback.”

Jensen: “Hm.” He chuckled. “Alright you help me find the rest of my team, and I’ll help you will this Homelander.”

“Well, babes, what did you think?”  Karl shouted across the room.

“Eh he’ll do.” You winked at Jensen.

Jensen

 Her phone started ringing. She whispered to eric who nodded his head. She stood up, bringing the phone to her ear and walked into the hallway.

Eric stood up “Alright, grab some water, go to the rest room, grab a snack.  y/n and I will be right back.” He followed her.

Jensen looked at Lily and raised his hands in a questioning way, as his eyebrows arched.

She shrugged.

“Wonder what that’s all about.” Karl stated.

“I think I know.” Jensen confessed.

“Alright then, out with it.”

“Last night after we dropped everyone off. y/n and I got into a tiff, and I might have pushed a little too hard.”

“Ah well, a gem can’t be polished without a little friction, mate.”

“Yea, but what happens if there’s too much friction?” Jensen retorted.

Eric and y/n finally came back in, Eric whispered something to her as they sat back down. She nodded.

“Alright, let’s run a couple more.” Eric announced.

Jensen.

“So Frank, what do you think?” Jensen asked as he finished reading the contract

“I think it’s a damn good contract, Jensen.” Frank confirmed turning to the signature page. “I think Eric really took care of you.”

Jensen looked up and winked at her, knowing who really took care of him.

“If I were you, I’d sign before they change their minds.” Frank laughed.

“If you say so.” Jensen leaned on the table and signed his name below the printed version. “Alright. I am officially your Soldier Boy.” He affirmed as he laid the pin down. He watched a conspiratorial smile cross her face as everyone clapped.

“Looking forward to working with you.” Seth said as he stuck out his hand.

“Likewise.” Jensen said, shaking his hand. The other writers and crew followed suit and headed out the door after he went through the same routine with them.

“Jensen!” Eric exclaimed

“Eric!” Jensen matched his tone, shaking his hand.

“This is gonna be fun.” Eric said with a waggle of his brows.

Jensen chuckled. “Yea it is.”

“Frank.” Eric turned to him. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Not a problem.”

“So how many choppers did you end up with?” she smiled.

“Like you don’t know.” Jensen replied.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

He chuckled. “Right.”

“Is that y/n?” Frank asked playfully, elbowing Jensen.

She turned to him with a smile. “Hello Frank.”

“Little lady, I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age.”

“How’s the wife?” she asked.

“Sheila is good. Gonna be mad she missed you.”

“You should have brought her; I know all the good shops in town.”

Her smile faded as Brett walked up and rested his hand on her shoulder.

“You ready, dear?” Brett insisted.

“Yep,” Her voice was cold, he walked back over to the door.

“Frank, it was lovely to see you again.”

“You too darlin’. Next time you’re in Austin, you have to come and see what Sheila has done with the house.

She smiled. “I’ll call you.”

She tipped her hat to Jensen. “See you at Owen’s?”

Jensen nodded.

She started toward the door. “I’m comin. Hold your horses.”

“Well, you’re the one that wants to get this all done today.” Brett barked.

“Yep, the sooner the better.” She countered.

Reader.

“So did you get everything taken care of today?” Lily asked sitting on your bed scrolling on her phone

“I did.” You looped the earring through your earlobe. “Lost a shit ton of money on deposits though.”

“Trust me. It will all be worth it.” She beamed.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. “Do you think this dress is trying too hard?”

“No. I think you look amazing. He’s not gonna know what hit him.”

“Oi!” Karl yelled from the living room.

“Bedroom!” You yelled back at him.

Karl let a whistle out as he walked through your bedroom door.

“Holy shit.” Jack remarked.

“Is it too much?”

“N... No. you look amazing.” Jack choked out making you chuckle.

“Where’s Brett?” Karl asked.

You shrugged with a smirk. “I don’t know.”

His brows furrowed as he looked around. His face lit up when he realized none of Brett’s stuff was there. “You kicked him to the fucking curb, didn’t ya?” you smiled. “Ah. Fucking finally!!”

You laughed. “Alright let’s go.”

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

Your heart raced in your ears walking down the hallway to Jensen’s hotel room. You stopped in front of his door and took a deep breath. The anxious energy made your hand heavy, knocking a little louder than necessary. You waited, but there was no answer.

“Jensen. We are going to be late!!” You yelled, knocking again.  

You waited, still no answer.

You pulled out your phone and tapped the green icon next to his name.

“Hey It’s Jensen. Leave a message.”

“Hey, where are you? And why is your phone going straight to voicemail? Give me a call back. K?”

You hit the red icon and scrolled to Jared’s contact.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He answered.

“When’s the last time you talked to Ross?”

“A few hours ago. Why?”

“Well, I’m here to pick him up for this dinner. He ain’t answering the door and his phone is going straight to voicemail.”

“Maybe he took an Uber there. When I talked to him, he said he was getting ready.”

You started walking toward the elevator. “I guess he could of.”

“I bet he’s already there. Let me know when you find him.”

“Will do.” You hung up the phone.

You stopped at the reception desk once you made it to the lobby. “Hey, do you know if the guy in 514 called a cab or Uber?”

“He did, right after he checked out.”

“Thanks.” You said, turning to walk out the door.

You pulled out your phone again.

“Hey It’s Jensen. Leave a message.”

You sighed and hung up.

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

“Kripke party.” You told the hostess as you approached her stand.

“Right this way.”

You followed her, your eyes searched for him once you spotted everyone, but he wasn’t there.

“Here you are ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey babe, Where’s Jensen?” Karl asked.

Jensen.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on? y/n’s calling me asking where you are. Your phone has been going straight to voice mail. And you haven’t replied to any of our text mess.”

“Jared.” Jensen cut him off. “Can you come pick me up at the airport?”

Jared sighed. “Yea. I’ll be right there.”

The bartender approached him as he sat down “Macallan neat please.”

The bartender poured his drink and started to turn back around.

“Leave the bottle.” Jensen handed him his card. He nodded and sat the bottle back on the bar.

Jensen pulled out his phone.  3 missed calls and 2 text from her. 2 missed calls and 4 texts from Jared.

With a hefty sigh he put his voicemail code in and raised the phone to his ear.

“First new message” the robotic voice said

“Hey, why is your phone going straight to voicemail? Give me a call back. K?”

“Thanks.” Jensen said as the bartender handed his card back.

“Second new message”

“Hey buddy, call me when you get this.” Jared said.

“Third new message.”

There was ruffling, he wasn’t sure if she pocket dialed him or if she thought she hung up. “No, straight to voicemail again.” He could barely make out what she was saying. “Well can you really blame him?” There was another voice, too far away from the phone to hear their words. “I probably fucked it up.” ….. “Shit Lil how do I delete this.”

“End of messages.”

He saved the message and tapped the red icon. Raising his glass to his lips with his free hand he opened her text conversation.

Y/n: Where are you? Call me.

Y/n: Look I know I’ve been stupid, but can you just call me please.

“Hey man.” Jared sat down next to him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Can I get ya anything?” The bartender asked

“Corona bottle please.”

The bartender reached into the cooler, popped the cap off, and sat it in front of him.

“Thank you.” Jared said handing him some cash. He turned back to Jensen. “So?”

“So, I came back to Texas.”

“You don’t say.” Jared smarted off.

“I made things between her and Brett really bad. I guess they have been fighting since last night. She looked so stressed out today and I could tell she had been crying. So, I took the problem away.” He took another drink of his scotch.

“Jensen, you’re not a problem.”

“I was for them.” He finished his drink and started filling it again.

“So, you just gave up?”

“What else was I supposed to do J.p, kidnap her?”

Jared swallowed and rubbed his chin. “Not a bad idea,”

Jensen gave him a blank stare.

“I’m just fuckin with you.” Jared chuckled, pulling out his ringing phone.

“Hey y/n”

“Yea, I got him.”

“Ok? Bye.” Jared laid his phone on the bar.

“How pissed is she?”

“She didn’t sound mad at all. Just worried.”

“That’s worse.”

“So, Ackles, you’re really giving up?”

“Yep.” He shot the rest of his drink. “Maybe this is just my karma.”

“What do you mean?”

Jensen filled his glass again. “She had to watch me marry someone else. Maybe it’s my turn.”

“Against your will.”

“But she didn’t know that.”

“I get what you’re saying, but.” His phone rang again.

“Yes?” Jared answered.

“We are sitting at a bar.”

“I don’t know.”

Jared chuckled. “I really don’t babe. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“You sure?”

“Ok.”

“Bye.”

Jensen sighed as Jared sat his phone on the bar.

Jensen.

“Good morning sunshine.” Jared said as Jensen walked into the kitchen.

“Coffee?”

“Just brewed.”

“Do you have to talk so loud?”

Jared chuckled. “You hungry?”

“No,”

Jared’s phone dinged. He smiled as he looked at the screen.

“Something funny?” Jensen questioned him

“Just Gen telling me how boring her meeting is.” He typed a message and sat his phone back down, shutting the screen off. “So, what are your plans today?”

“I should probably go check on the brewery.” Jensen took a sip of coffee “Thought about going out to White Rock Lake and putting a pole in.”

“Seriously?”

“A man can’t go fishing?”

“A man can. I just haven’t heard you mention that lake in a very long time.”

Jensen shrugged. “What are you doing today?”

“Um.” Jared picked up his phone. “I got a couple zoom meeting today should be done in 2 and a half-ish hours. If you want company.”

“Sure.”

“Our usual spot?” Jared asked.

“Yes sir.”

Jared was typing on his phone again.

“Tell Gen I said hi.”

“Will do.” He said with a grin.

Jensen

He watched the waves dance in the sunlight, the lake hasn’t changed at all since the last time he had been out here.

As his phone started to ring, he debated on letting it go to voicemail, trying to savor the peaceful moment.

The phone went silent.

“Hey Ross, you know that thing in your back pocket works better if you actually answer it.”

His heart dropped as he turned around.

Reader.

“Hi Jensen.”

“Wh, what are you doing here?” He stammered.

“Well, my best friend blew me off and ran back to Texas.”

“I felt like I was doing more harm than good. You looked so stressed out yesterday.”

“Oh, I was but not because of you. Well actually kind of.” you explained, walking to him.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You stepped closer. “You see if you would have stuck around just a little bit longer…” you took another step. “I would have told you that after the fight you and I”

“Wasn’t a fight.”

“The heated discussion you and I had.”

“Better.” He smirked.

“Can I continue?” you teased.

“I’m all ears.”

“After that I went home and go into a fight with Brett.” He opened his mouth, you raised your hand and his mouth shut. “He asked me if I love him. I said no.” Jensen closed the distance between you. “And then he asked me if I love you.”

“And you said?”

“Would my ass really be here right now if the answer was, no?”

He laughed.

“All those errands I had yesterday, that was us canceling everything. And I returned what I could. I wanted it to be officially over before I told you.” you looked up into those green eyes.

“So, you just wanna be friends?” He joked.

You chuckled. “Shut up Ross.” You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips to yours.

Tag List - if you would like to be added [click here]

@deansgirl010101 @mariahoedt @nightxcreature @quietgirll75 @idk6505

@jackles010378 @mqdhvtter @litpicks @perpetualabsurdity @barnes70stark

@nancymcl @hobby27 @madebyhappymeals @impala67rollingthroughtown @n-o-p-e-never

@deanwinchestersgirl8734 @deansimpalababy @mandee7 @roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch

@iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @1313diana @lmg14 @aand13b

@phoenixqueen @deans-baby-momma

[fanfics4all]

Warming Up

Request: Yes / No Fluffcember Day 30! 

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 475

Warnings: Just warm comfy fluff!

Prompt(s): Warming Up

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Winter on Earth was nothing like winter on The Ark. Up in space, the seasons didn’t change. It was always the same cold, metal walls and the constant hum of recycled air. But down here, snow covered everything in a thick, glittering blanket, and the air bit at any exposed skin, leaving everyone in a constant state of shivering. 

Bellamy and I were bundled up in layers, huddled in a small abandoned cabin, that was somehow still mostly intact. It was dark and cramped, but it had a fireplace and right now that was enough to make it feel like paradise. 

“You know what you’re doing with that?” I tased as I watched him try to light a fire with some wood we managed to scavenge. 

“Have some faith. I’m not gonna let us freeze out here.” He gave me a look, smirking. 

The first finally caught, the small spark flickering to life, and warmth started to spread in a tiny circle around us. Bellamy tossed a few more small logs on the flames and sat back, smacking the soot from his hands. He looked rather pleased with himself. I scooted closer, desperate for any bit of warmth. 

“Better?” He asked, scooting close enough that our knees were touching. 

“A little.” I said, rubbing my hands together and inching even closer until our shoulders touched. Bellamy wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his side. I rested my head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of smoke and the faint earthy scent of the forest that clung to his jacket. The warmth of his body seeped through our layers and I felt a bit of tension slip away as the fire crackled softly. 

“It’s almost hard to believe there’s any peace here.” He said quietly. 

“Like, there’s a whole world out here that doesn’t know anything about what we’ve been through.” I nodded, resting my head against his shoulder. 

“Sometimes, I wish we could just stay in moments like this. Where it’s just us, the quiet, and nothing else.” He shifted to look at me, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. 

“Hey…” He took my hand and laced his fingers with mine. 

“We’ll find a way to have more moments like this… not just surviving but living. Together.” There was something in his voice, a promise that was unspoken but understood. Despite everything we’ve been through, he still carried this hope that we could have something better. When he looked at me that way, with such certainty in his eyes, I couldn’t help but believe him. I leaned in and kissed him, feeling his warm soft lips against mine. The chill of the room melted away as his hands gently brushed my cheek and for a moment, it really felt like we were the only two people in the world.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @emo-godess-loves-you @now-imagine @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @vanessa-kom-skaikru @jjmymaybank @nadiagazecka

[lloydssluts]

Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge

Welcome to the Lloyd Hansen Writing Challenge, hosted by the Lloyd Hansen server.

About 2 years ago, we got our first taste of Lloyd Hansen through Netflix’s trailers. From then on, we were hooked. To celebrate this anniversary, we invite writers to join our challenge and create their own Lloyd Hansen fics!

This challenge is 18+ ONLY. Minors are not allowed to engage in any way, shape, or form. It is open to everyone—not just members of our server, although we encourage you to join us if you haven’t already.

All fics will be about Lloyd Hansen. We do not allow incest (stepcest is permitted), underage, or scat play. Fics should be reader inserts* and as inclusive as possible. Any genre (dark, smut, angst, fluff) is allowed. *For any other specifications or adjustments, reach out to one of the mods or send an ask. This is not a strict requirement.

There is no word count requirement. However, you must use a “read more” break, no matter the length. Use appropriate warnings.

The deadline for the challenge is July 22nd, 2024. This is not a strict deadline at all!

You will choose a dialogue that the character has said in the film and transform it from the original context. Certain prompts are open to changing as long as you note that somewhere. Once you’ve chosen a prompt and sent us an ask with it, it will be crossed off from the list. Prompts are on a first-come, first-serve basis! You can select up to 5 prompts.

Need feedback or advice? Feel free to message either one of the mods (@hansensgirl or @cuttlefjsh), or visit our server to discuss your fic with other members.

TAG YOUR FICS WITH THE TAG #Lloyd Hansen Server WC24

Happy writing!

Asterisks + ‘[…]’ indicates a prompt is open for change.

Should we try again?

Boring.

“Mostly, it’s loss which teaches us about the worth of things.” That’s Arthur Schopenhauer. He was a German philosopher, a pessimist. He saw the value in suffering.

Damn it. Phones on silent when I’m working, please.

Still just flirting. But… [...] getting there. *

Well, no one goes to Harvard to play football.

I like to be the exception. What’s up?

Gimme a name.

Could be fun.

Well, I’m gonna need a full green light on this one. Open checkbook.

I’d rather you punch me in the dick.

We’ll find somebody [...] loves and squeeze. *

Have I ever done you wrong, [...]? *

Professionally maybe. Lloyd Hansen, Hansen Government Services.

Aw, does it? Good.

You know my work. That’ll make this next part a lot easier.

You know what makes me sad, [...]? *

Five and a half.

Who likes cats?

Let’s talk about the mess your [...] made. *

Oh, [...] made a big one. And judging by your shallow breathing and puckered asshole*, I can only assume you know why I’m here.

But see, that’s the beauty of the private sector. I don’t care about reasons.

My guess is you’re helping [...] already. So this shouldn’t put too much of a dent in your day. *

But your file, well, that’s chock-full of nuggets, some of which might make you rethink your fussy attitude.

You gonna answer it?

Hey, sunshine. Lloyd Hansen here. I’m the one running this op.

The one where I get exactly what I want.

Okay, that’s fair. Well, why don’t you come on in, and we can chat? My assistant will get lunch. You like sushi?

Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page.

Looks like you need a new phone.

Don’t say “preternatural” to me. It’s an asshole word.

And that, [...], is exactly what bad ethics and zero impulse control will get you. *

I can kill anybody.

Well, we’ll see.

We need to ground in *Vienna.

How do you feel about your license?

Who’s up for some *Tafelspitz?

Hey, sunshine.

What gave it away?

Ballsy.

Nice try, pumpkin.

What size shoe are you?

Can someone get me a Vicodin, please?

On the run, scared shit less.

You know all those rules you guys are always trying to work your way around? They don’t mean dick to me.

Shut up and go sit in the corner.

Oh. How about that?

Forget about the Vicodin.

That’ll do, pig. That’ll do.

Goldilocks, would you be a lamb and excuse us?

Shhh. Please.

Now, whatever I just did to your *ears, it’s not even torture. I just made it up on the spot. Just came to me. And that’s how this is gonna go.

Should we try again?

Maybe we should get the *girl back in here.

Well, that was unexpected.

Make him dead.

My God, how hard is it to shoot somebody?

What I do can’t be taught.

You know what I love about you?

Yahtzee.

No, success qualifies as success.

You wanna make an omelette, you gotta *kill some people.

You know, in English, we call this a *happy ending. However, if you say one more word, you may not see it that way.

Lock everything down.

Get me eyes on the bridge.

You’re making me destroy a historic building here!

Wait! Please don’t shoot! Look what you did to my hand.

Give me that, you little shit.

Now you pick those feet up, or you’re gonna get dead real quick.

Now, listen. You shut up, and you don’t move.

Now, I’m gonna stop you right there, cupcake.

What do you say we wrap this up?

I mean, I’m having a blast, but it’s way past the kid’s bedtime, don’t you think?

You’re gonna throw me that gun, or the little one gets a new face. *

It’s really a shame this isn’t gonna work out between us.

Now normally, at this point in the night, I wouldn’t be sticking around.

With the house lights about to come on, I’d find a desperate, ugly chick to lick my wounds and split, but you have been a pebble in my shoe since the very beginning.

And now I just don’t think I can walk away.

Guess what I’m thinking right now.

I think I’m better than you.

Still getting used to it.

Let’s see if these moves fuck.

[dumplingsjinson]

hiiiiiii could I pretty please get prompts for kisses that get interrupted? have a good day <333

List of “we were just about to kiss, you asshole!” prompts 

“…Oh, hi. Um, I didn’t expect you guys to be— I’ll just— I’ll show myself out.” “…You come back here, you fucking—” “[Character B’s name], calm down! It’s fine. That’s not gonna stop us, is it?” 

“THERE’S AN EMERGENCY! WE NEED TO— oh, shit, the fuck did I just walk into?” Character C questions, standing by the door they had just slammed open. Character A and Character B practically bolt away from each other, cheeks flushing fifty shades of red. 

Character A smoothing the pad of their thumb across Character B’s lower lip; leans in, so fucking ready to just kiss the living daylights out of them like they had always dreamed of doing, when their cat jumps onto the bed and into Character A’s lap, which startles Character A away from Character B. They both glance down at the cat, which has made a makeshift bed out of Character A’s lap, glance at each other, laugh, and then Character A’s leaning in once again when a knock sounds at the door. (Bonus: Character A, annoyed, groans and is about to remove the cat from their lap to get the door when Character B grabs them by the wrist, shouts, “Busy!”, then pulls them in and kisses them.) 

The tension between them is palpable, lips inches away from each other’s. Who’s taking the risk? No one, because Character A’s younger child comes barging into the room at that moment, crying loudly. “Mummy/daddy, [sibling’s name] is being mean to me!” 

The usual “We got interrupted by the fucking phone. Anyway, what do you want, [name]? I have something on right now, you piece of shit.”

It’s movie night with friends. They’re sitting on the couch, their friends sitting on the floor in front of them. They’re so close. They’re looking at each other. One of them leans in, when one of their friend’s yell bloody fucking murder,startling them away from each other. “Fuck this movie! I can’t believe this!” they shout, enraged. Character A blinks, settling back onto the couch, the distance between them and Character B growing once again. 

Them giggling as they lean in to kiss each other when Character C’s arm shoots out, effectively blocking their faces away from each other’s, almost smacking Character B in the process. “We have an assignment to work on, you horny fucking assholes. Take it back to your bedroom, alright?”

They’re about to go in for another kiss when someone rounds the corner of the building they’re hiding behind. “So that’s where you guys were,” their friend says, sounding tired and done with their shit. 

Character A about to kiss Character B when Character B places their palm over their mouth. “Wait, I need to brush my teeth,” Character B says, eliciting laughter from Character A and a slap on the butt when they hurry off the bed and to the bathroom. “Jesus, way to ruin the mood!” Character A jokes loudly.

Character A telling Character B they’re not ready to kiss them at the very last second. “I’m sorry,” Character A whispers, sounding guilty. Character B leans away and smiles, shaking their head, smoothing the pad of their thumb on their cheek. “That’s fine, we’ll take this as slow as you want.” 

[drabbles-mc]

Lucky Charm

Coco Cruz x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff

With the help of This Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting and my trusty Wheel of Names with every character I’ve ever written for, I’m aiming to write a fic in 500 words or less every day of March. We’ll see how far we get!

Prompt: four-leaf clover

Word Count: 500

A/N: It's been so long since I've written for Coco but this was such a fun little tidbit to make for him 🥰

There were a lot of things that Coco believed in, but he wasn’t sure if luck was one of them. He was a big believer in fate, that all things both good and bad had to happen to get you where you needed to go. Luck always felt synonymous with chance and that didn’t sit right with him, especially when he thought about you, about the daughter you shared.

It wasn’t until he was elbow-deep in the hood of his car and she came bursting in the garage with a four-leaf clover pinched tightly between her fingers that he really started to buy into it. She was just so little, so excited as she skidded to a stop a few inches away from him.

“Dad!” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

He looked over at her, stray curls falling into his face as he did. He raised his eyebrows as he looked between you standing in the doorway of the garage and the little girl standing in front of him.

Setting down the wrench in his hand, he wiped his hands off on his jeans before crouching to get to her level. “What’s this?”

“A four-leaf clover!” she said, volume increasing along with her excitement levels. “Mama said they’re good luck!”

A smirk curled his lips as he spared you a glance. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!” She moved it closer to his face, almost close enough so that he would have to cross his eyes to try and see it properly. “Here! For you.”

“Me?” he asked with a laugh, hand pressing against his chest in a gesture to himself.

“You!” She pressed the clover against the back of his hand, prompting him to turn it so that he could take it from her. “A good luck charm.”

He chuckled as he looked at it in his palm. “Ah, I got you and your Mama over there—I already got more luck than I need.”

“That’s luck you can take with you,” she stated it so matter of factly that he didn’t have any room to argue the point.

“Guess I will then, huh?”

She nodded, pleased with the outcome. She stepped in and threw her arms around him in a hug before taking off back towards the door. “I’m gonna go look for more! Bye! Love you!”

He laughed, calling after her as he stood up and made his way over to you, “Love you back!” He shook his head as he looked at the plant in his hand then back up at you. “Good luck charm, huh?”

You laughed, resting your hands on his shoulders. “I just told her what it was. The rest was all her.”

He smiled and shook his head. “I don’t know if I buy that.”

“You’re a lucky man, Johnny Coco Cruz.” You nodded towards the clover in his hand. “You got the proof of it now.”

He laughed as he pulled you tighter against his side. “Can’t argue with that.”

[dragonrider9905]

Celebrating You!

Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!

In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!

Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!

Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)

This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!

You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!

Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)

Story genre:

Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)

AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)

Dialogue Prompts:

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”

“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”

“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”

“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”

“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”

“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”

“White paint has more color than your face.”

“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”

“Touch **, and you’re dead.”

“I am the law.”

“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”

“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”

“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”

“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”

“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”

“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

"The only one who gets to kill you is me."

“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”

“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”

“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”

“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”

“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”

“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”

"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"

"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"

“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”

"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"

Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"

"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"

"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"

"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."

“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"

"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."

"It'll be over soon, I promise."

"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."

"I am many things but not your enemy."

Action Prompts:

Forehead kisses

Palm/hand kisses

Dramatic rain scene

Touching foreheads

Jealousy

Dancing

Last stand

Christmas/Life Day celebration

mistletoe

Accidental hand touch

First date

First kiss

Spending time with the family

Bad day cheering up scheme

Pranks

Going to a pet shop

Going to the movies

Always go after the girl

soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.

Lullabies

Nightmares

injury

amnesia

pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship

cooking

[panda-writes-kpop]

who you gonna call? (winchesters!) ~ k. br.

a/n: raaaahhh happy SuA day!!! a little late on the international end of things but it's better late than never, right? anyways enjoy this fic, I had so much fun writing it that I may get back into watching supernatural. :) also the title is based on an edit of the winchesters brothers to 'ghostbusters' by ray parker jr!

I normally don't do a separate trigger warning for specific triggers, but since this is the first time that a piece of work has touched on such a serious topic, I wanted to put a big disclaimer out there. There is a scene in the fic where suicide is discussed as a possible cause of death. There's isn't any more graphic of a description than the word being thrown around once or twice; however, I feel it is my responsibility as an author to inform you of this. That being said, if you or a loved one are struggling, here's a list of international suicide hotlines that can help you if you need them. take care of yourselves, my loves, and remember that you all are beloved by me. ❤️

tw: BRIEF MENTION OF SUICIDE, main character death, lots of blood and gore in this one, not accurate to the Supernatural episode (Season 1, Episode 5) that it is based on, reader's parents died at an early age, it's a mixed bag of angst, fluff, and hurt/comfort with an open ending

summary: after one of the worst nights of your life, a pair of "reporters" roll into town and ask you questions about your dead friend. unfortunately, one of the girls, SuA, is a bit too charming for her own good. your curiosity towards the girl brings you closer to her, and it brings SuA closer to solving your friend's death, as well as the death of your parents.

♡ Masterlist ♡

“Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody-”

“Stop!” You cry out before shutting your eyes. “Don’t do this!”

“You know it’s not real, right?” Ryujin looks at you as concern laces into her voice. “We can leave, if you’re uncomfortable-”

“You’re both chickens!” Yuna teases you before turning back to the bathroom mirror. “O’ spooky mirror ghost, tell these losers to go back home!”

She cackles as you open your eyes and place a steady hand on the counter.

“Yuna, I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” You bite your lip as tears start to form in your eyes.

Yuna’s smile immediately fades as she pushes Ryujin aside to pull you into a hug.

“I’m so sorry! I was just playing around, and I didn’t mean to make you cry.” She whines before placing her head on your chest. “Please forgive me!”

With pleading eyes, Yuna looks like a wounded puppy as you gently comb your fingers through her hair.

“It’s alright, Yuna,” You reassure her as your free hand wraps around her side, “I know you didn’t mean any harm. I’ve just been sensitive to these things since people started spreading those haunting rumors after my parents died.”

“Those people are assholes,” Ryujin injects, “and you shouldn’t pay them any mind.”

Yuna bobs her head up and down before letting you out of her arms.

“That’s why you’ve got us!” She proudly says before looking in the mirror. “We’ll protect you from anything, ghost-related or not.”

You let go of Yuna before heading towards the bathroom door.

“Thank you, to the both of you.” You wipe away the tears that threaten to fall as Ryujin grabs your hand and guides you away from the bathroom.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some hot chocolate and we can talk about those cute girls you’ve been seeing at college.” She teases as you smile back at her.

“Girls? What girls?” You play dumb, which causes Ryujin to laugh.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

Your other hand catches the door frame as you look back at Yuna.

“You coming?”

“In a minute!” She gleefully says as you remove your hand from the doorway.

A second later, and it would’ve been crushed by Yuna slamming the door shut. You allow Ryujin to drag you to the kitchen as your thoughts begin to wander.

It’s silly to believe those rumors, right? Maybe I should be brave like Yuna and face them head on.

~

After Yuna slams the door shut, she turns the light off and grabs the candle from the sink. With a spare match that she stowed away in her pocket, she lights the candle and sets it back onto the counter.

Yuna looks at herself in the mirror, locking eyes with the reflection that looks back at her, as she smiles to herself.

“It’s just a child’s game - what harm could it do?”

She leans close to the mirror before whispering, “Bloody Mary.”

A single shiver runs up her spine - fear? adrenaline? panic? fate?

She sighs to herself. 

This is stupid.

“Bloody Mary.” Her voice rings out again, and this time, the candle wavers in the wind.

Yuna looks out to the window in the bathroom, but it isn’t wide open or slightly cracked. It’s completely shut, with no holes to be seen.

A new shiver runs down her spine - this one she identifies as pure terror.

What’s going on?

“Bloody Mary.” 

The words leave her lips before she can stop herself. Yuna immediately turns on the lights and looks around.

There’s nothing here - you’re just a scaredy-cat!

She breathes out before wiping a tear from her eye.

I must’ve really scared myself if I started crying.

She looks down at her hand, expecting to see nothing but a teardrop, but she sees blood.

Her blood.

A scream is caught in her throat, threatening to escape as she looks in the mirror.

This time, she sees blood falling from both of her eyes, and a shadowy figure in the back.

A woman.

Bloody Mary.

~

You grab the warm mug from Ryujin’s hands before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. Like an impatient child, you take a sip and are immediately reminded why doing so is a terrible idea. You quickly set the mug back down as the liquid in your mouth is scolding your tongue and throat as it travels down to your stomach.

“Fuck,” You wipe your lips, “that’s hot.”

“It’s hot chocolate, you know.” She nudges your arm before taking a seat next to you in the dining room.

You roll your eyes as she laughs at her own bad joke.

“Thanks, Einstein.”

Her mug sits on the table, right next to yours, as her hand grabs your arm.

“How’s college life? Meet anyone special?”

“Not yet. I’m focused on my studies.” You shrug off her nosiness, but Ryujin’s persistent.

“You can’t just spend the rest of your life slaving away at work, you know.” 

“You can’t just spend the rest of your life working at a shitty cafe, Ryujin.” You mimic her voice as she loudly gasps.

“Excuse you! My caramel macchiatos are anything but shitty!”

You both laugh before falling into a comfortable silence.

Her fingers run up and down your arm, and you find comfort in the gesture. She’s been your closest friend since your parents died, back during your first year of high school. Through her, you met Yuna, her neighbor and childhood best friend, who had the biggest house on the block.

It was easy to escape the pain of being in a home with no parents when you could simply spend every night at a friend’s house. It wasn’t like their parents complained - you all got decent grades and stayed out of trouble, so what was the harm?

“It was nice of Yuna to offer her house to me since I’m in town for the week.” You say, as Ryujin nods.

“Her house is always open to me. The benefits of being neighbors, I suppose.” She looks over to the hallway where the bathroom is. “Yuna, come out here before your hot chocolate gets cold! I don’t want to hear any complaints if it already is!”

You laugh before looking out to the hallway.

“That’s odd. She’d usually have some sort of smartass comment to say by now.” You glance at Ryujin, who seems perplexed by Yuna’s odd behavior.

“You’re right. She’s never this quiet. Do you want to check in on her, or should I do so?”

“I’ll do it.” You quickly get out of your chair and head towards the bathroom.

“Yuna!” You call out to her as you slowly approach the bathroom door. Nearly every light in the house is on, yet you feel some sort of darkness around you.

C’mon, Yuna, now is not the time for jokes.

“Yuna, please come out! Ryujin and I, we’re worried about you!” You stop before the door, fist raised to knock against it.

You knock once, twice, thrice.

No response.

“Yuna, please!” Your voice becomes more desperate as you continue to knock. “This isn’t funny!”

You try to open the door, you’re past the social politeness of knocking in case she’s taking care of private business. You’re worried that she slipped and fell, or maybe she hurt herself and didn’t want to say anything-

A key. There has to be a key somewhere.

You look down to see if you can spot a key, but your eyes widen at the sight in front of you.

Blood soaks into your shoes and the carpet below your feet.

You shriek in terror.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin races around the corner as you start sobbing.

“Call an ambulance! I think Yuna’s, she’s-” 

You choke on your own tears as Ryujin scrambles to find her phone to call for help.

Your mind can’t help but to make a terrible comparison, one that you thought you would never have to relive.

This was exactly how you found your parents, all those years ago.

~

“Mom! Dad!” You call out from your bedroom. “You guys forgot to turn off the hallway light!”

You tightly hug your stuffed rabbit as you wait for one of your parents to respond. They were the two people you trusted most in the world, even though you were a young teenager.

Making friends didn’t come easy to you, especially not in high school, when most of the friend groups had already been decided.

You did talk to this one girl in your math class - Ryujin - but she was more of a study buddy than anything. A friend that simply saw you as a means to an end.

How tragic.

“Mom! Dad!” You call out for them again, wait for a response, and then get out of bed. “I wanted to stay curled up in bed, but I can’t do that when you guys are ignoring me!”

You sigh before putting on your slippers and trudging towards the hallway.

You exit your bedroom and turn to the left as you find the lightswitch with ease. That, however, isn’t what peaks your interest.

It’s the steady stream of a red liquid coming from the master bathroom.

“Mom…” You trail off before walking towards the door. “Dad?”

As you approach, a metal tang hits your nose. It isn’t any red liquid - it’s blood.

~

Red and white lights consume your vision as you sit on the steps of the front porch. In the distance, you can hear Ryujin talking with one of the paramedics, but it all feels like white noise to you.

Could it really be? Could the same entity that killed my parents really have done this to Yuna?

It’s all a jumble of lights, endless questioning, and paranoia until a hand meets your shoulder.

You look up at Ryujin, who tries to give you a forced smile.

“What did they say?” You softly ask as Ryujin takes a seat next to you.

“They think it was a stroke, or some other heart condition. That’s the only thing that could’ve caused her eyes to be like that.”

“Her eyes were liquified, just like my parents.” You quietly say. “Paramedics said they died of strokes, too.”

“But I don’t get it. Yuna ate healthy, exercised regularly, and didn’t seem stressed at all. That’s why they’re looking into suicide as a cause of death too.”

“You can’t be serious, Ryujin,” You glare at her. “Suicide?”

“We never really know what’s going on in someone’s head.” She shrugs before letting her head fall between her knees. “How are we going to tell her family about this? We should’ve been in there with her, maybe we could’ve caught the signs sooner-”

You lean your head against her shoulder and offer her a bit of comfort.

“Trust me, dreading the past doesn’t help at all.”

“What are we supposed to do, then?” 

When Ryujin lifts her head to meet your eyes, she hides her face in a valiant effort to hide her red eyes and quiet sniffles. You gently rub circles into her back as she grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer to her.

“We grieve, we remember, and we move forward with our lives.”

~

“Hustling for pool money again?” Siyeon asks, not daring to lift her eyes from the newspaper.

“Uh-huh.” SuA tosses a stack of cash on the bar table. “What do you think?”

“That it’s better than the credit card scams, but worse than an actual job.” Siyeon bluntly says before SuA grabs a chair, spins it around, and takes a seat.

“Think what you want, but it’s money and it’s right there.” She proudly smiles before looking at Siyeon. “Speaking of jobs, have you found anything?”

“This might interest you.” Siyeon grabs a pen and circles an article in the paper before tossing it to SuA.

“What am I looking at?”

“A girl from a prominent family died about a month ago. Shin Yuna was her name.” Siyeon explains.

“What’s so special about her that requires our… unique expertise?”

“Read the autopsy report in the paper. Her eyes were completely liquified, and they found most of the blood in her body within her skull. They claim that her cause of death was a stroke.”

“No shit.” SuA bites her lips as her eyes gloss over the page. “Are we dealing with a pissed-off spirit, a deranged vampire, or something else?”

“I say that we give it a look before those men over there get mad at you for your hustling.” Siyeon grabs her jacket as SuA takes a sip of beer from the stein in front of her.

“Hustling is an underappreciated art form.” SuA argues before putting on her leather jacket. “Let’s go.”

Siyeon shrugs before grabbing the newspaper from SuA.

“Let’s go.”

~

“This feels wrong.” Siyeon raises her fist to the door before looking back to SuA’s ‘67 Chevy Impala. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else we can talk to first?”

“Family and next of kin is always the best source.” SuA adjusts the aviators on her face as she admires her reflection in a side view mirror. “We have to rule out witchcraft and demonic possession, just so we can be sure that we’re dealing with a pissed-off spirit.”

“Yuna’s family… her parents have been through enough. Should we really not start anywhere else?” Siyeon’s hesitation causes SuA to sigh and walk towards the house.

“Where has this hesitation come from? It’s not like you.” SuA places her sunglasses on the top of her head before knocking on the door.

Siyeon crinkles her nose in disapproval before moving to the side.

“Mr. and Mrs. Shin, a moment of your time!” SuA calls out while banging on their front door.

She stops for a moment and waits for an answer, but no one responds or comes to the door.

“They must be out of town.” Siyeon shrugs before watching SuA grab a bobby pin from her hair. “Don’t tell me you’re going to-”

“You said they weren’t home,” She argues, “and we have to learn about our victim one way or another.”

She places one knee on the ground as she lowers herself to be eye-level with the door. One hand grabs the door knob while the other takes the bobby pin and begins to mess with the lock and-

Easy does it, baby.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure trespassing is illegal in all parts of the world!” A voice yells, which breaks SuA’s concentration.

Startled, she launches herself to her feet before Siyeon walks backwards and falls into SuA, sending them both to the ground.

“Nice one.” SuA grumbles before Siyeon scoots aside.

“You tried breaking in!”

“You encouraged it!”

“You two have to be the worst thieves I’ve ever seen.” A pink-haired girl walks from the next-door house to greet them at Yuna’s home. “Or you’re the next Nancy Drew in-training.”

“Who are you?” SuA quickly stands up before offering a hand to Siyeon.

Siyeon takes the hand and quickly reaches for her wallet in her back pocket, most likely looking for whatever fake ID will get them out of a potential cop car ride.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” She innocently tilts her head as her piercing gaze makes SuA sweat under her leather jacket. “The nearest police station is five minutes away, and I know the deputy’s daughter-”

“Ryujin, that’s enough!”

SuA lets out a heavy breath as her knight in shining pajamas appears at Ryujin’s side. With messy bed hair and a kind smile, they look much less terrifying (and much cuter) than Ryujin.

~

“Ryujin, that’s enough!” You march towards Yuna’s house as Ryujin sheepishly backs down from the two women in front of her. “They’re probably interns at a newspaper who were sent to look into Yuna’s death.”

“Yeah, sorry we forgot to mention that to you.” The taller one rubs her neck before putting her wallet away. “I left my college ID in my car, I can go get it for you if you’d like-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” You shrug before looking at her, “Names are enough for me.”

“Siyeon.” The taller girl sticks out her hand, which you gladly shake.

“And you?” You look over to the smaller girl, who simply smirks.

“You can call me the woman of your dreams.” She flashes you a charming smile before Siyeon elbows her in the gut. “Fuck! What was that for?”

“Her name’s SuA.” Siyeon apologetically says as SuA grabs her stomach in pain. “She can be a bit… much at times.”

You simply smile at SuA, who leans against the doorframe to look tougher.

And less like a child who got their hand stuck in the cookie jar.

Cute.

“SuA, Siyeon, it’s nice to meet you,” You say before quickly introducing yourself, “and this is Ryujin.”

“You still didn’t tell me why you’re knocking at our dead friend’s front door.” She deadpans as you place a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s better that they bug us instead of her parents,” You say, “who have been out of town since the funeral. Rumor is that they’re going to sell the place, but it’ll most likely get torn down.”

“Right. No one wants to live in a house where a woman died.” Siyeon looks at the door for a moment. “Is there any way we could look inside? For our article, we need a full biography of the victim, and we thought her childhood home might fill in the pieces that we don’t know.”

“Yuna.” Ryujin sternly corrects Siyeon. “Her name is Yuna.”

“I-” Siyeon pauses, rethinking her answer. “Yuna, of course. Apologies.”

Ryujin scoffs before nodding. 

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable being in there without her parents’ permission, but we can talk to you in Ryujin’s house.” You clarify before Ryujin can say something argumentative in response.

That, however, does not completely stop her from responding as Ryujin’s head snaps towards you.

“You can’t be serious! They’re strangers-”

“-Yet, they’re much better than the other reporters and photographs that have come around here.” You say before beckoning SuA and Siyeon towards Ryujin’s house. “C’mon, we can tell you everything you need to know. We were her closest friends, and we were there when she died.”

You don’t miss the way that SuA’s eyes light up when you say the last part.

She must be really invested in this case.

~

“This hot chocolate is really good.” SuA remarks before offering her glass to you. “Want some?”

“No, I’m alright,” You lean towards SuA with a smile, “but Ryujin’s coffees are so much better.”

“Are you shit-talking my hot chocolate?” Ryujin yells from the kitchen as you slide into the stool next to SuA.

“I thought you said it was okay to do so, as long as you said your coffees were better!” You holler back as Siyeon takes a seat next to SuA.

“My coffee is fantastic, by the way!” Ryujin says as you chuckle to yourself.

Never change, Ryujin.

“Maybe I could buy you some, as a treat for your hospitality?” SuA gives you a wide grin before nudging your shoulder.

“Maybe.” You teasingly shrug before looking at Siyeon. “Are you sure you don’t want anything besides water?”

“No, I’m alright. I feel like we’re imposing on you already.” Siyeon gives SuA a sharp glare before looking back at you. “Do you mind if we ask you some questions about Yuna? It’s not exactly surface-level stuff, and if we cross any boundaries, be sure t-”

“-Did you notice anything weird going on with Yuna before she died?” SuA enters the conversation with the gracefulness of a one-ton elephant. “Any flickering lights, sulfur around window sills, increasing or decreasing temperatures…”

“No, none of that,” You shake your head before thinking, “but there was one thing that she did say, before she died.”

“What was it?” SuA looks deep into your eyes, and you’d blush under any other circumstance.

“The three of us - me, Ryujin, and Yuna - were in the bathroom a few minutes before she died. When we were in there, Yuna was teasing me and she started chanting Bloody Mary in the mirror. I stopped her before she got to the third one, but I can’t help but wonder…”

You bow your head for a moment to recollect yourself before speaking again.

“...I’m sorry, you didn’t come for speculation. So no, there wasn’t anything weird with Yuna before she died.”

You glance over at Siyeon, then to SuA. The two girls are staring at each other with an intrigued look on their faces.

They can’t actually believe this story, right?

“Have there been any other deaths like this in town?” Siyeon asks.

Here we go.

“Two, actually,” You start to chew on your lip, “my parents.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

The words fly out of Siyeon’s mouth as she tries to pick her jaw up off the table. 

“Don’t be, it was seven years ago. But yes, when I found them, their eyes were liquified, just like Yuna’s.” You offer a weak smile to your companions, both of which look like they’d rather be five feet under the ground than right next to you.

And everyone wonders why I don’t like to talk about my parents - the response is always similar to this.

“Can I ask a stupid question?” SuA takes a sip from her mug after responding.

“Shoot.”

“Did you play Bloody Mary before your parents died?”

Your eyes widen as SuA’s bluntness.

“I-”

“SuA!” Siyeon reaches behind you to smack SuA on the shoulder. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“I’m forming a theory on what’s happened here,” She pauses for dramatic effect, “a damn good one if you ask me.”

Siyeon clears her throat before grabbing her water and standing up.

“Alright, we’re done here. Pardon my partner’s rudeness.” Siyeon walks over to SuA and hauls her onto her feet.

“But my hot cocoa-” SuA whines, which causes you to laugh.

“It’ll be here if you have any more questions.” You wave at the two girls as they bicker and exit the house at the same time.

Ryujin slowly approaches from the kitchen with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why’d you tell them all that? You know they’re not reporters, right?”

“I don’t know, Ryujin,” You say before patting the vacant stool on your left, “there was something different about those two. They might just be nosy tourists, but I think they might be able to find something in connection with Yuna and my parents.”

“Be honest - you just let them in because SuA was eye-fucking you-”

“RYUJIN!”

~

“Alright, SuA, what’s your theory?” Siyeon places her feet on the dashboard before SuA swats them away in disapproval.

“We’re not dealing with a demon or a vampire or a werewolf. This is just a seriously pissed-off spirit. One that looks like Blood Mary, apparently.” SuA says before turning the car to the left. “We need to look into unsolved murders in the area. Perhaps one that has to do with eyes?”

“Spirits do like to kill their victims in ways that resemble how their murderer killed them. A twisted sort of revenge.” Siyeon nods along. “What would cause the spirit to attack once, and then not attack until seven years later? Usually, these sort of killings happen in rapid succession.”

“That’s the part that has me stumped, too.” SuA pulls into the motel parking lot with ease before putting the car into park. “Let’s get some sleep and see what we can figure out in the morning.”

~

“Shit.”

SuA runs her fingers through her hair as she stares at the headline for the morning news broadcast on TV.

A Deadly Sleepover: Three Teens Found Dead in Local Home!

“You think it’s our spirit?” Siyeon asks as SuA places her head into her hands.

“They said that the girls had their eyes liquified.” SuA absentmindedly looks up to the ceiling.

Why does there always have to be more deaths before we catch our murderer?

SuA watches Siyeon sort through a few newspaper clips while looking at her computer.

“Tell me you’ve got a lead.” SuA taps her foot against the motel flooring as Siyeon nods.

“I do. I cross-referenced local unsolved murders with any autopsy reports of eye gouging or similar injuries, but I couldn’t find anything on the victim’s side.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” SuA asks as Siyeon hands the computer to her.

“Look here. Lucinda Brown, 25 years old. She was murdered in her home by an older man who had his eyes gouged out at the scene of the crime.”

“Jesus.” SuA scrolls through the autopsy reports. “You think this is our girl?”

“Timeline matches up. Lucinda was murdered twenty years before any murders occurred here. That’s enough time to drive any person, living or dead, to insanity. Speaking of, her murderer managed to escape jail time by pleading that he was mentally unwell at the time of the murder.” Siyeon replies.

“Alright, so what do we do now? Dig up some old bones and give them a communion in fire?” SuA suggests, which is quickly shot down by Siyeon.

“The woman was cremated, so that’s a no-go. There must be something else tying her to the mortal world.” Siyeon ponders for a moment. “Let me see the laptop again.”

“Sure.” SuA hands it back to Siyeon before looking at the TV.

The reporter’s interviewing a neighbor who had heard nothing of the incident, except that the girls had been playing Bloody Mary with a handheld mirror in the backyard.

“Bingo,” With a satisfying click, Siyeon turns the laptop to face SuA, "we've got our object of interest.”

On the laptop monitor is a picture of the crime scene from Lucinda Brown’s home. It’s obvious that this was a home invasion - a dresser was knocked down in the background, sheets were tangled with each other on the floor, and blood was splattered across every possible surface in the room.

No wonder the family cremated the poor girl.

SuA’s eyes drift up towards the middle of the picture, where a floor-length mirror stares back at her. In the middle of the mirror, written in blood, is a simple message: Help Me.

“She knew she was going to die there.” SuA softly says. “One last act of rebellion against her killer. I think we’ve got our ghost, but the question remains: where’s that mirror?”

~

“I can’t believe you still kept the thrift store, after all of these years.” Ryujin adjusts the cap on her head before leaning over the counter. “I know it’s your parents, but that place gives me the creeps.”

“I know.” You nod as you stare out of the cafe window. “There’s just a part of me that would hate to see it go to ruin.”

“So you just leave it in limbo?”

“So I just leave it in limbo.” You answer as she looks over to the register. 

“You could always come work with me, y’know. I might own this place one day.” Ryujin’s eyes sparkle with ambition, and you can’t help but laugh at her goals.

“You work on that, Ryujin.” You take a step back before the door opens. “Well, if it isn’t our reporter friends.”

“Friends?” SuA scoffs before walking in. “I thought I left a better impression than friends.”

“Maybe I want you to make a better impression now.” You tease before grabbing your coffee. “Order something first, and then we’ll talk.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” SuA rushes over to talk with Ryujin, which causes laughter to fall from your lips.

Wonder if she’s like this with every person she meets…

“Siyeon.” You greet her as she admires the display of baked goods. “You should try the donuts so Ryujin doesn’t have to burn anything in the oven.”

“It was one time!” Ryujin yells as she writes SuA’s order on a cup.

“I’ll get something in a minute, but I wanted to ask you if you saw the news this morning.” Siyeon places her hand on the display case as her eyes look through the different options.

“I did, yes,” You lower your voice before asking, “do you think it’s related to the other deaths?”

“Given that the girls had the same wounds that Yuna did, I’d say there’s a strong chance that it is.” Siyeon quietly answers.

“Do you know how to stop them?”

“We have a strong idea. Have you seen a mirror like this?” Siyeon grabs a folded-up piece of paper and hands it to you.

You grab the paper and carefully unfold it, and you gasp as you stare at the crime scene in front of you.

“I-” You pause as you notice the mirror in the corner, “I think I’ve seen that mirror before. My parents used to have one just like it in the thrift shop that they owned.”

Siyeon’s eyes widen as she looks over at SuA.

“I’m listening, hold on.” SuA hands her card to Ryujin before walking over to the two of you. “Mind if we take a look around there?”

“I thought you wanted to have a coffee shop date.” You smile as she bashfully looks away for a moment.

“Ah, so now it’s a date.” SuA chuckles before leaning against the counter. “We can change plans, as long as you don’t mind having a third wheel.”

“As long as you two aren’t making out in the back of the Impala, I don’t really care.” Siyeon shrugs before Ryujin hands her a baked good.

“Here’s one slightly toasted-but-not-burnt donut.” Ryujin says before grabbing a coffee from the back. “And your black coffee, you heathen.”

“I prefer my coffee black instead of liquid sugar, thanks.” SuA remarks before taking a sip. “Perfect.”

“Whatever.” Ryujin rolls her eyes before looking out of the window. “Hey, did you see that woman?”

“What woman?” You look out to the road, but there’s not one car or person outside except the Chevy Impala.

You notice the visible panic on Siyeon’s face as she walks over to Ryujin. 

“What does she look like?”

“Well, she had pretty blonde hair, but her face was a little messed up. It almost looked like she was dead or something…” Ryujin confesses.

“Fuck.” SuA sets her coffee aside before grabbing Ryujin. 

“What are you doing?” She frantically looks around as SuA drags her to the car.

“If you want to live, you have to come with us.” 

The door slams shut as Siyeon follows after her.

“We’ll explain in the car, I swear.”

~

“Are you serious?” Ryujin breathes deeply through her nose as Siyeon covers the rearview mirror with a small towel. “If so, I’m fucked.”

“But she didn’t say Bloody Mary three times!” You try to reason with SuA as she steps on the gas after pulling out from the parking spot.

“It doesn’t seem to matter who said it.” SuA runs a red light in town as you fumble with the keys in your hand. “What can you tell us about that mirror in your parents’ thrift shop?”

“I remember that they sold it to a woman in our neighborhood, a few weeks before they…” You trail off. “You’re telling me that this mirror killed my mom and dad?”

“Not the mirror as much as the spirit attached to this.” Siyeon says as she lowers the passenger seat window.

“This is insane, right?” Ryujin looks over to you with a look of fear that doesn’t normally sit on her face. “I can’t believe that you believe this!”

“I mean… I’ve always felt that there was something wrong about their deaths, but I didn’t think it was a literal haunting. I just thought it was a mean rumor that the neighborhood kids saw.”

“The same kids that would play Bloody Mary with that mirror?” SuA asks as you point out the thrift shop in the distance.

“You guys have done more to solve my parents murder in the last twenty-four hours than the police have done in seven years.” You shake your head. “I don’t know how I could thank you.”

“Let’s save your friend first, and then let’s talk about thank you’s, alright?” SuA pulls into a nearby parking spot as you hand Siyeon the keys.

“Are you positive that the mirror is here?” Ryujin looks over to you as you nod.

“The woman who bought that mirror had died a few weeks later, of an actual stroke, and one of her children took it with them when they moved out of her house.” You explain as SuA nods along.

“That explains the lack of murders in seven years, but that means someone brought it back to your town.” 

“I’ve used the thrift shop as a storage unit since my parents’ house was torn down two years ago. A few weeks ago, I saw that someone placed a floor-length mirror outside of the back door, so I brought it inside so it wouldn’t get smashed.” You hand the picture back to Siyeon. “The same mirror in that photo, minus the bloody message.”

“I hate to rush the exposition, but I’ve seen Bloody Mary in your side mirror.” Ryujin says before slapping a hand over your eyes. “Can we please get this show on the road?”

“Right. You get the hammer, I’ll get the shotgun.” Siyeon says as she and SuA exit the car at the same time.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I?” Ryujin whimpers as you rub her shoulder. 

“They hunt ghosts, or whatever they tried to explain to us. We have to keep you alive long enough for them to deal with this.” You attempt to comfort her as you hear the trunk of the car slam shut.

You roll down the window as SuA approaches your side of the car.

“Hey, be careful out there. I still want to get coffee with you sometime.” You offer her a cheerful smile as she runs a hand through her hair.

“You don’t have to worry about me, babe, I’ve got you. Both of you.” SuA winks at you before walking towards the thrift shop.

You shyly look away as Ryujin punches your shoulder.

“Can you flirt with her when I’m not near certain death?”

~

“Of course there isn’t any electricity.” SuA quietly grumbles before flipping the light switch off. “Where did they say the mirrors were?”

“Up ahead, and to the left.” Siyeon says before following your instructions. “Here we are.”

“How many mirrors are there?” SuA says as she looks at the collection of floor-length mirrors. “Do we start smashing, or…?”

“Maybe if we summon her, she will appear from the mirror that was in her house.” Siyeon says before turning to a mirror hung on the wall.

“That’s a terrible idea that will get us both killed.” SuA tries to pull Siyeon away, but Siyeon pushes her aside. “Don’t do this, I’m warning you.”

“Too late.” Siyeon locks eyes with the reflection in the mirror. “Bloody Mary, Blood Mary, Bloody Mary.”

The lights above them flicker as SuA approaches the first set of mirrors. The reflection of the flashing lights nearly blinds her, but she manages to smash the first one with little difficulty.

“Do you see her?” SuA yells before smashing another mirror.

“Not yet!” Siyeon calls out before turning to the side. “Keep going!”

The lights flash with increasing frequency as SuA continues to break every floor-length mirror that crosses her path.

Why would anyone ever have so many mirrors?

Again and again, SuA smashes every mirror that she sees. And again, none of them seem to stop the flashing lights. She travels deeper and deeper as her hammer strikes every mirror in her path.

SuA’s deep into the back of the thrift shop when Siyeon screams in pain.

“Siyeon-ah!” SuA yells out before running through a different part of the store.

How many different types of mirrors are there?

“She’s… here!” Siyeon manages to get out before another scream escapes her.

SuA doesn’t have time to smash every mirror she sees - she has to find the mirror, and fast.

She flies through the store, to the musical accompaniment of Siyeon’s sounds of terror and pain, until she spots a mirror with the tiniest bloodstain on it.

“Guess the mirror wasn’t totally clean, huh.” She says to herself before the hammer connects to the mirror.

It shatters instantly, just as Siyeon goes quiet. 

“Siyeon!” SuA backtracks quickly, only to find Siyeon laying on the floor with blood coming from her eyes. “You okay?”

“I’ll live,” She mutters before slowly getting off of the floor, “but she won’t.”

Siyeon weakly points ahead of her, where a woman that matches Ryujin’s descriptions and the autopsy report disappears into a cloud of black smoke.

“You think she’s gone for good?” Siyeon quietly asks.

“As long as the mirror stays shattered, I’d say so.”

~

“I suppose I should say thank you.” You say as you approach the Chevy Impala.

SuA leans against the driver’s side door with a smirk.

“I suppose I should say that you’re welcome, but I think an apology is in order.”

She sheepishly looks away as you wave off her concerns.

“Don’t worry about the mirrors. They’re not worth the price of someone’s life.” You look over to the thrift shop. “Besides, it’s time that I let that place go. It’s just a collection of bad memories and poor decisions. Something more positive and welcoming should take its place.”

“You’re selling it?” 

“No, I’m giving it to Ryujin. She’s dreamed of owning her own coffee shop since she started working at that little cafe uptown.” You gaze at the keys in your hand. “She’ll make better use of the space, I know it.”

SuA tilts her head at you.

“How is she?”

“Fine. Nothing that a pint of beer and a bit of therapy won’t fix.” You laugh to yourself. “How’s Siyeon?”

“A bit shaken up, but nothing major. Brushes with death are pretty common in our line of work.” 

“Well, for your sake and mine, I hope you’ll be a bit safer through your travels.” You bite your lip as SuA takes a step toward you.

“You’ll be thinking of me, even after we leave? How sweet.” SuA teases you before you retaliate.

“It’s not every day that I meet a girl as forthcoming, kind, and attractive as you.” You flirt back before taking a step towards SuA.

It’s in this moment that you realize how close you are to one another, and another step from one of you will cause your bodies (and hopefully your lips) to collide.

“If you keep sweet-talking me, I might not be able to leave.”

There’s a shred of honesty behind SuA’s flirting - she’s seriously considering staying for another night or two.

“Maybe that’s the idea,” You take a half-step forward, and you place a quick peck on her cheek, “but you have more people to save, no?”

“Unfortunately, I do, but I’m not ruining this moment.”

SuA pulls you closer by grabbing your hips, and before you have time to relax, her lips collide with yours. You immediately kiss her back as your hands land on her shoulders.

You only break off when you need air, and SuA looks at you with a proud smile.

“Maybe I’ll come back some day.” She lets go of you before pulling her aviators off of her head.

“Maybe.” You softly repeat as SuA climbs into the car.

Siyeon offers you a friendly wave before rolling down her window and handing you a piece of paper.

“For later, when you miss SuA.” She says before the Impala pulls out of the parking spot and heads back onto the road.

After the car leaves your field of vision, you look at the note in your hand.

Written in pen is SuA’s phone number, followed by a brief message:

For when you miss SuA, or if anything in this town ever requires our area of expertise. - Siyeon.

You smile to yourself.

Maybe you’ll call the Winchester girl and see if she’s free for a week or two in the future. Maybe you’ll call just to hear her voice and ask about her adventures. Maybe you’ll wait for her to track down your phone number and call you first.

maybe, maybe, maybe.

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: emeto, violence, gore, major character death (ive always wanted to list that)

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

I don't have any words for you guys except I'm sorry and I'm crying too

part fifty-three

❝ DENIAL ❞

MONDAY — OCTOBER 31 — 12:49AM

BENTLEY LED BELLAMY OUT OF HIS CELL AND INTO THE HALLWAY, WHERE EVERYBODY ELSE WAS WAITING IN THE ELEVATOR, HOLDING THE DOORS OPEN FOR HIM.

“Go,” Bentley said quietly, ushering him along toward the doors. Bellamy was still crying softly, (And, honestly, Bentley was just about two seconds away from bawling his eyeballs out, too.) Rockie was just waiting outside the elevator doors for them, fidgeting anxiously with the keycard he had.

Bellamy glanced back at Bentley when they approached the elevator, and Bentley rubbed his back reassuringly. “Go ahead. It’s going to be okay.”

With a quiet hiccup, Bellamy wiped his eyes and moved forward. Koa reached out for him, drawing him into the elevator and resting his hands on his shoulders to keep him there.

“Get off campus immediately. You’re going to get your powers back when you get to the surface, so if anybody tries anything, kill them,” Rockie ordered to the group, reaching into the elevator and tapping the keycard there. “We’ll be up soon.”

“You’re not coming?” Bellamy asked suddenly, his brown eyes lingering on Bentley’s face, wide with dread, with fear.

“I… I’ll be up soon,” Bentley replied. Rockie pushed a button on the inside of the elevator and stepped away, a piercing beep cutting through the air.

“What?” Bellamy muttered, seeming almost startled, his eyes flicking to the elevator’s panel on the inside, then back to Bentley in a panic. The doors started closing and Bentley saw Koa hold tight to his shoulders to keep him from running back out, a few sad sobs ripping their way out of him as the doors slid shut. “No, Bentley! They'll kill you!”

The doors closed fully, and the machine whirred to life, leaving Bentley and Rockie in the white hallway alone.

With an exhale, Bentley looked down at his socked feet, lingering for a moment in the silence. What if that was the last time he’d see one of them? Varian? What if Varian didn’t wake up? What if it was the last time he saw Vera? Or Koa? Or Valor? Or Summer? Or Bellamy?

Bentley flinched when Rockie’s gloved hand came to rest on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Bentley said nothing, but gently shrugged his hand off. “Fine.”

Rockie sighed heavily, turning and starting back down the hall, toward the elevator that led back to the main part of the facility. “Asten and Layla are in the medical wing already — I saw them being escorted in there along with some other kids,” Rockie shook his head. “They're moving so fast I guess they decided to cut out steps of the protocol.”

Bentley blinked at him, turning and following closely behind. “So what you’re saying is-“

“They’re probably already getting drained. The process takes about four hours, they've been in there for maybe thirty minutes. Kids... typically start to die about three hours in,” Rockie explained quickly. He made it to the elevator and tapped the keycard on the panel, summoning the elevator back down to them. “And now that security is looking for us, it’s gonna be one hell of a fight to make it there. They’ll shoot on sight.”

Bentley watched the elevator doors slide open, nodding to himself. “Then let’s... stay out of sight.”

“Yeah,” Rockie scoffed, stepping into the elevator. Bentley followed. “Simple.”

“It is simple, when you have me,” A fluttery falsetto came in Bentley’s head. “Hey. Sorry I’m late to the party.”

“Charlie,” He whispered, settling into the elevator and turning his head slightly away from Rockie. “Where have you been?”

“What?” Rockie asked.

“I kept her distracted for a little bit, but then she realized it wasn’t you there,” Charlie explained with a soft sigh. Rockie pushed buttons in his peripheral. “So I went about screwing with the guys who watch the security cameras and made them see nothing. As well as routing all people away from you in the halls, while simultaneously fighting for my life because the Secret Keeper was trying to murder me inside my own head. You’re welcome.”

Bentley exhaled heavily as the doors slid closed and the elevator dinged. That's why he hadn't seen anything? Anyone? That's why everything had gone so good? Because of Charlie?

“Thank you.”

“Are you losing your mind right in front of me?” Rockie questioned, waving a gloved hand in front of Bentley’s face. “Who are you talking to?”

Bentley glanced over at him with a soft sigh as the elevator kicked into its ascent. “It’s complicated.”

Rockie just blinked at him.

"Go on, explain it," Charlie urged.

Bentley sighed heavily. “The Secret Keeper, the telepath? She's like an alter ego forced into a girl's body, so there’s, like, two different people inside of her. The original girl, Charlie Reins, uses the Secret Keeper’s powers to talk to me,” He explained quickly as the elevator rose up the shaft. “She said she’ll help us, but you have to do what I say.”

"Help?" Rockie scoffed.

"Yes. She can read minds and see the future like the Secret Keeper. She's the only reason I made it through this place last time," Bentley continued.

Rockie narrowed his eyes at him, and a long moment of silence came where Bentley glanced anxiously at the elevator doors. Rockie hummed quietly to himself for a minute, glancing around the tiny room. “Are you lying to me right now?”

“What?” Bentley questioned incredulously, scrunching his face up in Rockie's direction. "No, I'm not lying. I'm not like you."

It looked like Rockie debated on saying something, but decided on sighing instead, looking away from Bentley and crossing his arms. "You can stop with the cheap jabs now, they're getting a little old."

The redhead glanced over at him. “Sorry, I just assumed you stopped caring about my opinion when you walked out on us.”

Rockie suddenly turned, and Bentley didn’t even have time to react before he grabbed him by the front of his jumpsuit and shoved him back against the elevator wall with a thud, standing over him unsettlingly. Bentley'd forgotten how tall he was. “If I didn’t go with them, they were going to kill you all, one by one, until I caved,” He hissed, the damn near most venomous sentence Bentley had heard from anyone since he moved into Redwood. “But if I had known you were all going to be fucking assholes about it, maybe I would’ve let them.”

Bentley wedged his hands up between the two of them, channeling all his currently available strength into shoving Rockie in the chest. He stumbled maybe a foot or two away. “Don’t touch me.”

For a few moments, neither of them said anything — they just looked at each other. Rockie’s green eyes were glowing like they always did, but somehow they were different. Bentley wasn’t really sure how. Almost like some aspect of them had been stripped away, peeled off.

Rockie crossed his arms tightly. “I didn’t even do anything to you,” He mumbled, his voice strangely small, his eyes drifting down to the floor. “You're acting like I shot you in the foot and tossed you in a cell myself. All I did was walk away.”

Bentley crossed his arms tightly, too.

“And that was enough,”

Another moment of silence passed.

“When people are scared, they show you what they really care about,” Bentley exhaled lightly, eyes drifting to the floor, then back up to Rockie. “And you walked away.”

“So I’m the bad guy now, for not wanting to die? For not wanting you to die? Is that it?” Rockie questioned, flicking his hands out to the side. “You don’t seem to understand, Bentley. When they said I would be punished for staying, they planned to kill you all. It’s been the deal since the beginning — if I betrayed them, they’d kill everybody I cared about. It never mattered before, because I never had anyone…”

Bentley didn’t say anything, just watched Rockie look back down at the floor, dragging the toe of his tennis shoe there. “Hate me if you want to... But I saved your life by walking out. And I'd do it again.”

Suddenly, the elevator jolted to a very abrupt stop with the loud sound of metal scraping on metal, knocking both Bentley and Rockie off balance. Rockie stumbled into the wall and Bentley nearly fell into him.

Both of them, eyes wide, looked around in a panic.

“What the hell?” Rockie muttered.

“She had them disable the elevators,” Charlie said into Bentley’s head with an irritated sigh. “But the others made it out before they did. Don’t worry. I’m working on it.”

“They disabled it,” Bentley repeated, glancing around the small white box they were trapped in. “Charlie said she’s working on it.”

Rockie moved for the doors, trying futilely to shove his metal gloved fingers in the crevice between them and pry them open. Bentley glanced up — there was what looked like an emergency hatch there on the ceiling, a square outline among the white, but they didn’t need it if Charlie was going to help, right?

He glanced back down at Rockie, who was still pulling on the doors, almost frantically.

“They won’t open. We’re probably stuck between floors anyways,” Bentley said. Rockie didn’t say anything, but kept tugging and pulling at them, not even sparing him a glance.

“Rockie,” Bentley started, taking a step to the side in a bid to see his face. He furrowed his brows when he realized that Rockie was suddenly breathing in a familiar manner — quick, and shallow, like Bentley when he got too stressed out.

“Rockie?” Bentley questioned, taking another step to the side. “Are you claustrophobic?”

“No,” He gritted out, still prying at the doors.

Suddenly, a stab of pain ripped through Bentley’s skull, and he reached a hand out, resting it on the elevator wall to support his weight.

“You think you’re so clever, getting Charlie to distract me. Who’s to say this isn’t all part of my plan? That it’s not all supposed to happen like this?” The Secret Keeper’s voice came in his head, and she laughed; a bubbly, sinister sound. “The babybird’s stuck in a cage while his friends are dying. You’re playing right into my hand, Bentley.”

“Get out of my head,” He ordered softly, bringing his hand up to his right temple when a spike of pain stabbed him there. He didn't see Rockie look back at him.

“It isn’t that easy,”

Suddenly, the elevator melted away around him, replaced with the white abyss he’d grown so accustomed to. With an irritated exhale, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked around at the nothing in the room.

"Well? What're you gonna show me?" He questioned, throwing his hands out to the side. “Get it over with already.”

The Secret Keeper laughed. "Eager, are we?"

“I have somewhere to be,” He replied with the shake of his head. “So, what is it? Asten bleeding to death? Layla with a flatline?”

“Look at you! Growing a spine!” The Secret Keeper chided, fizzling into view only a few feet away from him, giggling and beginning to circle him, slowly, like a vulture. “Baby Bentley isn’t such a baby anymore! It’s a far cry from that ten year old I met four years ago who vomited when I first showed myself.”

“What the hell do you want?” Bentley asked, turning in a circle as she rounded behind him, following her with his eyes. “Why do you insist on being a constant pest?”

A separate voice suddenly came, a whisper among the white; a familiar whisper — Charlie. So faint the Secret Keeper didn’t seem to hear it. “Bentley, don’t believe what she shows you. She can’t kill me if weren’t not in the physical world.”

“I think you should ask yourself that question,” The Secret Keeper sneered, reaching out and dragging her fingers across Bentley’s jawline and chin as she walked. He brought a hand up and whacked hers away; he didn’t really know what he’d expected, for it to feel real or for him to phase right through her, but to his surprise, he was able to slap her hand away from him.

She chuckled at him. “You’re welcome. I’m the one who brought this out in you, you know. I made you this way.”

“You have nothing to do with who I am,” Bentley scoffed, turning as she rounded him. “My family made me who I am.”

“Your family?” She laughed. “You finally stepped up and became brave when you were facing me eye-to-eye on that rooftop. You only grew a spine to defy me. You don’t need a spine to live with the perfect little family — you don’t grow one that way. You grow one through trials. Fighting.”

“I-”

“Even if you were to win, Bentley, you would have my scent all over you for the rest of your life. I’ve left my impression on your personality — you’ll never, ever, ever be able to get away from it,” She explained, not even allowing him time to speak. “I’m part of you now, Babybird. My memory will always be there, crawling across your skin, running through your veins. After all, we’re both just villains, aren’t we? Puppeteer?”

Bentley felt himself tense for a second, but he shifted his weight in an attempt to hide it, blinking in a bid to rid his memory of the name.

“Ooh, struck a nerve?”

“Don’t call me that,” Bentley ordered, his gaze drifting down to the white floor.

“Why? It’s who you are. Pieces of your father, pieces of me — you could be unstoppable, if it weren’t for all of those dreadful emotions you can’t seem to contain,” She chuckled. “I show you the simplest things, and you crumble completely.”

Bentley just watched as she slowed to a stop in front of him, twisted stitched and bleeding smile still stretching wide across her features. “By the way — I have someone for you to see.”

She held a hand out by her side, and smoke swirled under it. Charlie materialized there. She was on the floor on her knees, no longer in her purple dress, but a white jumpsuit like the one Bentley was in.

Bentley inhaled at the sight of her. Her blonde hair was red at the ends with blood, and her jumpsuit, once solid white, was now three quarters crimson. Her face was busted up and scraped and bruised so bad she hardly looked like herself, shallow, precise cuts from a knife arcing up from either side of her mouth to imitate The Secret Keeper’s signature smile. The cuts made almost half of her face red with blood, and it was still coming, running down her neck and all over the rest of her. Her blue eyes were dull, and she wasn’t really looking at him. Or anything. She was just kind of… staring off.

She can’t kill me if we’re not in the physical world.

Bentley, though the sheer amount of blood threatened to make his world swirl out of focus, merely drew in a breath.

The Secret Keeper held out her opposite hand, and the same dagger she’d tried to stab Bentley with appeared in it. Chains came from the abyss above them and latched onto Charlie’s wrists, jerking her arms up above her head.

She can’t kill me if we’re not in the physical world. Bentley forced himself to remember her words. She couldn’t kill her. She couldn’t kill her. She couldn’t kill her.

The Secret Keeper stabbed her in the chest directly in front of Bentley and twisted it with a sickening laugh.

Bentley’s stomach lurched at the explosion of red that immediately stained her jumpsuit even more than it already had, and the blood-curdling, strangled sounding scream she let out made something writhe beneath his skin.

“Don’t react!” Her voice came, a whisper, but he was already snapping a hand over his mouth in a bid to quiet the sudden and intense wave of nausea that made him feel really sick. The Secret Keeper was just laughing. At Charlie. At the knife. “Put your hand down! Be unbothered!”

Bentley snapped his hand down by his side, keeping his lips pressed into a firm line — the last line of defense should his body actually decide to make him throw up. Could he even throw up in the white place? Or would he just be throwing up in real life?

The Secret Keeper pulled the knife out, splattering blood on her face in the process, and she looked over at Bentley. Charlie had gone slack and nearly unconscious in the chains.

Bentley swallowed hard, forcing the nausea down, forcing the terror off of his face and out of his head so maybe she couldn’t feel it. He replaced it with hatred and disdain instead.

She couldn’t kill her.

He crossed his arms over his chest, trying really, really hard to keep his body language natural and free of tension while she was looking at him. With blood all over her face.

“If you react, I’ll kill you myself!” Came Charlie’s whisper, and then a second later: “Okay, inappropriate joke. I won’t. But you get how serious I am! I’ll work to keep her out of your head, but you’ve gotta keep all that disgust off of your face.”

Bentley drew in a breath, trailing his eyes across the blood on her face and pretending it didn’t make his stomach churn unsettlingly. “Are you finished?”

“Oh my God, Bentley!” Charlie whispered, sounding pleasantly surprised. “You’re such a fucking savage.”

I’m literally about to vomit, he made himself think.

“Yeah, well, don’t!”

The Secret Keeper, evidently still hung on his, quote-on-quote, savage question, stepped forward. Her eyes went colder than Asten’s old cell, and she dropped the dagger, the weapon exploding into a puff of smoke when it hit the floor, disappearing entirely. “Excuse me?”

Bentley lifted his brows at her. “Are. You. Finished? I have shit to do.”

The Secret Keeper cocked her head at him like a dog, taking a step forward, without a word.

“Get out of my head,” Bentley demanded, taking a step toward her. She creased her brow at him, almost like he’d… done something she hadn’t expected.

“What?” She growled, her cold gaze turning sinister very, very quickly. She started inching forward; dragging her feet across the floor toward him.

Bentley didn’t move. “I said get out of my head.”

The Secret Keeper didn’t speak; she only twitched. One of her eyes, and her left hand, like she was feeling for something that didn’t exist. A knife, Bentley assumed, since he was so royally pissing her off.

“Get out of my head!” He repeated, stepping forward again. The Secret Keeper looked down at his feet, like she couldn’t believe he was getting closer to her.

She stepped forward, too. “Who do you think you are, speaking to me like that? Why-”

“Get out!”

On the second word, Bentley gathered all the courage and bravery he could muster to step forward and shove her as hard as he could. She wasn’t very big, so she actually staggered maybe a yard away, and stumbled over her own feet, and then fell, and when she hit the white floor-

He jolted back into the real world with a gasp, standing in the elevator, one hand braced on the wall, the other laced in his hair.

At once he remembered the literal stabbing he had witnessed, and the bloodcurdling scream. He’d watched her stab Charlie straight in the chest. Like, stab.

He turned on his heel, dug his fingers into the stomach of his jumpsuit, and threw up a rather pitiful amount of bile in the corner of the disabled elevator.

Rockie, who had been sitting in the corner near the door, diagonal from him, moved with a soft: "Oh, shit."

Bentley's head was throbbing with the same murderous migraine he'd forgotten in his panic earlier; but it was a newer, worse pain. The room threatened to spin with every attempt to open his eyes, and his adrenaline began to be replaced by a toxic exhaustion, clawing up his ankles and making it hard to focus.

Rockie was suddenly touching him, one hand on his back and the other holding tight to his left arm, keeping him from swaying.

"You don't look very good," He oh-so-helpfully stated.

"Don't feel very good," Bentley murmured back, screwing his hand up in the stomach of his jumpsuit when it threatened to lurch again. He kept trying to open his eyes but everything just kept swirling. "I think I might faint."

"What? Please don't," Rockie begged, his head dipping down so Bentley could've seen him if his eyes were open. He could've swore he sounded... desperate, or afraid, or something. He couldn't tell just then.

It was about at that point that Bentley's legs decided that they didn't want to work, and they gave out beneath him; the only thing keeping him from hitting the floor was Rockie's grip, grabbing him firmly by the shoulders.

"Okay. Okay," Bentley vaguely heard him mutter. Rockie moved Bentley carefully, until his head came to rest on something that felt suspiciously like his shoulder, his arms looping around his back gently but tight enough to keep him from falling. "Okay. We'll just stay like this for a minute. That's cool."

Bentley managed to peel the hand that wasn't tangled in his jumpsuit away from his side and bring it loosely around Rockie in return, his eyes suddenly stinging like somebody had sprayed lemon juice in them.

"I wanna go home," He whispered, voice thick and sort of slurred from the strange half-conscious state he was in.

Rockie just sort of rubbed his back. "I'll get you home."

Bentley was conscious for just long enough to feel a couple of tears fall down his face, before the pain and the sound and the emotions all became one big blur of something, and he let the darkness take him away with open arms.

--

When Bentley came to, he was laying on the floor of the elevator, knees tucked up to his chest, his head situated carefully on Rockie's balled up sweatshirt.

"Hey,"

Bentley glanced up to his right, where Rockie was sitting, now only wearing a white t-shirt with his sweatpants. He looked different -- more tired, maybe? He was just sitting against the wall of the small elevator with one leg tucked, the other outstretched, looking at nothing in particular.

Bentley sat up and rubbed at his eyes, cringing at the weakness he could already feel taking hold of him, grimacing at the taste of bile that still lingered in his mouth. How long was he out? Had they moved at all?

Despite his questions, a small: "What?" was about all he could manage to say.

"You threw up," Rockie stated. "Then passed out. I think you might have a fever, too."

Bentley wasn't quite sure how Rockie would've checked his temperature without taking his gloves off, but he also didn't have the willpower to ask. He just hummed, sitting up and tightening his knees against this chest.

"We've been in here... probably another hour or two. If Charlie doesn't get the elevator up, I'm not sure we're going to make it in time," Rockie stated, still refusing to look over at Bentley, staring down at his hands instead.

Bentley didn't say anything. And then, for a second, his brain drifted off to something completely unrelated -- the fact that earlier, Rockie had been prying at the elevator doors like they were going to kill him.

"Rockie?"

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"If you don’t intend to insult me after, sure,"

Bentley blinked for a second. "Why were you so scared earlier? Of the elevator?"

Rockie sighed lightly, glancing down at his hands. Fiddling with his fingers.

“I…”

He heard Rockie exhale heavily. He thought at first that he wouldn't respond, and he didn't blame him. They weren't friends anymore, were they? Not-friends didn't tell each other stuff like that; they didn't answer those kinds of questions.

But finally:

"They started locking me in a six-by-six white room when I was eleven, trying to determine if my powers fluctuated based on... heightened emotions. Fear," He replied quietly, absentmindedly fiddling with his glove. "They locked me inside every day, for four hours. Three years straight. With her."

Bentley kept silent.

"It didn't even end up working," He mumbled. “My powers never changed. I guess the elevator just... reminded me of that room.”

Bentley didn’t say anything for a moment.

“But I’m fine. You deciding to puke your guts out distracted me,”

And suddenly, the elevator kicked back on, jostling them in the floor as it continued its ascent.

Bentley blinked, and Charlie’s voice came: “Finally!”

Rockie popped off the floor, wiping his hands on his pants. He turned to Bentley and held a gloved hand out to him. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah,” Bentley replied, reaching up and taking his hand. Rockie tugged him off of the floor and, after a second where he gathered his footing, he let go again. The world threatened to spin, but he blinked and shook his head and didn't let it.

“Are you sure you’re okay enough to-“

“Yes,” Bentley cut him off, despite the fact he felt mere moments from death. “I’m okay. Being passed out for a little while helped.”

“You shouldn’t have to be in a position where passing out helps,” Rockie exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He grabbed the keycard out of his sweatpants pocket and held it over to Bentley. Bentley was pretty sure he was supposed to have one on his person, but he didn't, and he wasn't sure where it went. “Here; just go back down and head out through the elevator we sent the others up in. I’ll take care of everything down here.”

“No,” Bentley was quick to reply, shaking his head lightly and looking back up at Rockie. “I’m not leaving.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open right in the midst of their conversation — immediately, both Bentley and Rockie all but threw themselves backwards, thudding against opposite walls on either side of the door so they were out of sight. The sudden and panicky movement made Bentley’s vision swim and headache rage even harder than it had been, and he wanted to groan about it, but he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

“Stay still. Don’t move,” Charlie’s voice came.

Bentley caught Rockie’s eye, and mouthed: Don’t move.

Bentley saw Rockie’s fingers twitching as a pair of footsteps grew near to the elevator door. Bentley just pushed himself hard into the corner and kept his eyes laser focused on Rockie's green ones, hoping his gaze would pin him down just enough to keep him from moving. Just for a second.

A man in white armor stepped onto the elevator.

He stood idly in the threshold and glanced around, quickly. His armor looked like metal — Bentley hadn’t noticed that before. He had a huge black assault rifle in his white gloved hands, and a helmet that reminded him of a welding mask. 

The man looked around the small room, taking in every corner and crevice of white, nearly looking Bentley straight in the eye. He did a few passes of all the corners, his gaze not seeming to stick on him, or Rockie, not even on the sweatshirt sitting in the floor.

He huffed and stepped back out. Bentley heard the crackle of a walkie talkie coming to life. “They’re not here, boss.”

Rockie looked over at Bentley with this absolutely flabbergasted look on his face, and Bentley mouthed: “Charlie.”

With the shake of his head, Rockie reached over ever-so-slowly and pushed in the open door button, holding it down tightly.

“I’m keeping the Secret Keeper locked out of your minds, for now. She can’t see into them. Which means she can’t get your location,” Charlie said. “But she knows where you’re trying to go. So we’re taking a back way.”

Bentley merely nodded, even though she couldn't see him. 

“Go out of the elevator now. Immediately go right. There’s a guard, but I’ve got him,”

Bentley gestured for Rockie to follow and hurried out of the elevator, taking an immediate right. There was a guard there, the same one, back facing them, holding his gun tight in his hand. Almost like he was guarding the elevator, waiting for something suspicious.

Rockie wordlessly grabbed Bentley’s arms from behind in an attempt to pull him the other way, but Bentley merely shook his head, quietly wrenching him arms from his grip.

The guard fell.

Rockie paused and stared, and Bentley moved farther down the hall, past the guard. There was blood running from his nose, ears, and eyes. Bentley looked away with a grimace, taking a few more steps and glancing down the halls.

“There’s a-"

Chi-chink.

Bentley turned at the sound of an assault rifle being chambered behind him.

Much to his relief (and slight terror?) it was Rockie. He'd grabbed the guard’s giant assault rifle despite his metal gloves, and was now scouring his limp body... for ammunition, Bentley guessed.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, glancing anxiously down the hallways around them. "Someone might hear you. We need to go."

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Rockie muttered. He pulled something out of the man’s waistband and slid it across the floor to Bentley.

A pistol. An actual, real pistol. 

The thought of picking it up made his head spin.

A second later, the man’s keycard slid up beside it. And then a pistol magazine.

Bentley swallowed thickly. “Charlie’s gonna get us there in secret, Rockie... we don’t need-“

“I’m not going with you,”

Bentley furrowed his brows, his mouth going dry. “What?”

“You can listen to her if you want, but I don’t trust her. She’s part of the Secret Keeper,” He replied nonchalantly. “I’m going for Layla. The girls are drained in a separate room than the boys, so we aren’t going to the same place anyways.”

Bentley inhaled sharply. “But-”

“If she lies to you, the medical wing is at the very right end of the main hall with the siphoning rooms. It’s absolutely massive. The draining rooms have windows. You can’t miss them.”

“Please don’t leave,” Bentley mumbled, taking a step toward him as Rockie rose with the gun, putting a few full magazines in his sweatpants pockets. His hoodie had been long abandoned in the elevator.

“Bentley-”

“I don’t want to be alone,”

Rockie merely looked at him for a few moments. “Then come with me.”

“No! Bentley, you’ll die!” Charlie ordered frantically.

“No,” Bentley half-whispered. “If you go and try to shoot them all, you’ll... die.”

“If I’m going down, I want to take as many of these bastards with me as I can,” Rockie replied, turning on his heel, and heading for the main hall that was shining bright in Bentley's eyes. “Good luck, Bentley.”

“No, Rockie!” Bentley took a couple steps to follow him, but stopped short, a gnarly burn surfacing behind his eyes. “Charlie? Is… is he the one?”

Charlie resigned to silence.

And then, a few quiet moments later, after the burning had turned into watery eyes as had then turned into tears that fell down his face, Charlie whispered: “Don’t follow him.”

“Oh my God,”

Rockie disappeared around the corner.

“Bentley, focus. Don’t follow him. Keep going straight,”

“Was that the last time I’ll see-”

“Bentley, listen to me. There are guards coming. You have to move, now,” She ordered in his head. “You don’t have much time. Thirty minutes tops. This place has a filter and distribution system created for widespread use of sedatives integrated into the air conditioning, but the system was disabled years ago when they decided it would be a danger to personnel. The system goes through the entire facility, and the vents needed to be large enough for repairs throughout the whole thing. So the answer is, yes. You’re going to be crawling through the vents like a spy movie.”

Bentley said nothing, his mind still utterly stuck on the fact that Rockie was going to... die.

“Get the keycard and go into the next cell closest to you. Now!”

Bentley did as he was told, numbly heading to the next metal door, opening it, going inside, and closing it behind him. There was no one in it.

Rockie was already dead.

“I’ll tell you when it’s safe to leave,”

Bentley didn’t say anything, but just focused on keeping himself together, for Asten’s sake. What if Rockie didn’t make it to Layla? Would she die, too? Had they messed up somewhere? 

“Stop thinking about it, Bentley,” Charlie ordered. “The guard passed. Go now.”

Bentley forced himself up and tapped the keycard again, the doors sliding open. 

“Go back where you came from, near the elevator. There’s a mechanical room right next to it where you’ll have access to the vents,”

Bentley made his way back into the dark hall, the one with the elevator, scanning the walls for the doors she'd mentioned.

Suddenly, the loud, terror inducing, horrendous noise of several assault rifles plagued his ears from the main hall.

He stopped right after he'd passed the elevator, just short of the next door, the one he was meant to go in. The hall spun and he put his hand against the wall there to hold himself up, clinging tight to the keycard to keep from dropping it.

“Rockie…”

“Don’t go back for him, Bentley. Don’t,” Charlie ordered in his head, solemnly. “I’m… helping him where I can. Open the door, inside there will be lots of machines, and a vent large enough for you to fit inside.”

Bentley didn’t say anything. Instead, he kept his hand planted firmly against the wall and stayed exactly where he was, poorly fighting away a very sudden urge to vomit again.

“Bentley,”

He shook his head. “I don’t… feel good.”

“I know. I know. You can push through it. I know you can,”

Bentley exhaled heavily. He wanted Bruce. He wanted to go home. He didn’t want to be sick with a fever alone in the hallways of a facility where they were trying to kill his friends. He didn't want to listen to the gunshots that were probably tearing through Rockie's body, aiming to leave him nothing more than a lump on the floor. He wanted to go home.

He threw up on the facility's white floor instead.

By the time his stupid muscles stopped spasming and his stupid stomach stopped evicting everything from inside itself, he was crying, fully. Most of it was thanks to the fact that he'd probably just heard Rockie die, but there was a little bit of it, too, that came from how badly he wanted to go home, how terrible felt, how hopeless he was. How was he supposed to save everyone like this? Falling apart? Alone? Sick?

“I can’t do it,” He sobbed, his full weight still resting on the wall next to him. Tears were streaming down his face but he didn't see the point in wiping them off. “I can’t… I won’t make it in time.”

“You definitely won’t if you don’t try,” Charlie replied softly. “It’s not like you to give up. You can do it. You’re so close.”

Bentley exhaled, and then inhaled. He thought about Asten.

Without another word, he pushed himself on. To the next door, through it, and into a large room that had a bunch of machines, consoles, and a large air vent close to the floor.

He closed the door behind him and went over to it, ignoring everything else. It had a grate, but it wasn't screwed in like normal -- it was latched, and had hinges so it could be opened easily by workers.

He unlatched it and pulled it open, looking into the vents beyond.

There was maybe a six foot drop before the vent turned out of his sight. There were various pipes and tubes and ducting curling and swirling around in there, probably the systems Charlie had talked about.

With an exhale, he pushed himself inside.

—

He was in the vents for a good fifteen, twenty minutes. Thumping around like an elephant in heels, stopping occasionally to flinch at a myriad of gunshots he heard from above, to panic about Rockie until Charlie calmed him down enough to go on. He stopped once because he needed to throw up again. He was pretty sure he really was sick.

By the time Charlie told him he was ‘there’, he was pretty sure he was five seconds away from actually dying. But then he had to not, because he was there.

He had to climb up a maybe six foot span of vent that went straight up — much like the vent he’d come in. It wouldn’t have been so hard on a normal day, but today wasn’t a normal day, so it was hard. He managed to use the pipes and ducts for the whatever system organized around the vents to get him up there. And it was only when Charlie said ‘now’ that he managed to use every bit of remaining strength to kick the vent grate out.

He climbed out into a very, very white room. He couldn’t see all the way across it because there were privacy curtains everywhere, like the curtains in s hospital. But, from what he could see, it looked big. He’d come out in a spot that seemed like he was in a corner, surrounded by shelves full of medical supplies and boxes.

“Go out. Put the grate back as best you can,”

Bentley followed her orders, climbing fully into the room and grabbing the grate, propping it where it had once been in a bid to make it look normal. The alarms were still blaring, and he could hear people talking, footsteps pounding across the floor. He could hear the sound of nearby chaos — gunshots, hundreds of them somewhere outside the room.

“Bentley, the room is set up like stripes. There’s rows of medical beds surrounded by these privacy curtains that have kids in them. Right now, you’re in the corner directly across from the corner with the door,” Charlie explained. “You see that privacy curtain to your right?”

Bentley turned and looked at the large, bluish-green plastic curtain to his right, past a few shelves. “Yeah?”

“Go in it. Get in the bed. Grab the IV tube and hide it under the blanket near your arm. Now,”

With a sharp exhale, Bentley squeezed himself between two shelves and ducked under the plastic-ey curtains. There was a large, white stretcher on the other side, and a big, white machine with buttons, dials, and a few different long tubes sticking out of it.

Bentley all but tossed himself at the bed, squirming to get under the covers and grabbing the bundle of tubes from the machine, shoving them under the blanket and playing dead there.

As soon as he stopped moving, the curtain whipped open with a whoosh.

He held his breath and made his whole body still, trying his hardest not to actually pass out in the presence of a blanket and bed. He heard a few footsteps come into the tiny space, and then a hum. “Looks like someone forgot to start you up.”

There were a few beeps and a whir from the machine next to him, and he heard the person leave, the privacy curtain whooshing shut behind them.

There was a moment of silence that ensued before Charlie said: “Go.” 

Bentley shoved himself out of the hospital bed, fighting off a wave of vertigo from standing so fast that was dutifully accompanied by a wave of nausea. He swallowed all the sickness down and pushed himself through the curtain and back into the empty space between them.

“Go right. Then turn right again — there’s only one walkway up here against the wall, you can’t miss it,”

Bentley merely went, his legs pushing him along with more willpower than his actual brain. He turned right, met with a long walkway, the left side lined with privacy curtains, the right with the wall. There was a break in the curtains every dozen feet or so that indicated a row.

“Walk ten paces, then go into the privacy curtain on your immediate left,”

Bentley started down the hall, counted to ten steps. On nine, he saw someone turn into the walkway from one of the rows ahead of him, so he practically threw himself to the side and through the next curtain.

“Feet up!” Charlie shouted. 

The nearest thing Bentley could actually use to get his feet up was the hospital bed, but this one had a person in it. A boy he didn’t know, maybe eleven or twelve, with bright blonde hair and long eyelashes that reminded him of Dick. He was connected to several large whirring machines, and an IV tube was coming out from under his blanket, filled with something suspiciously crimson.

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him just to get his own feet out of sight made Bentley feel a little sick again.

The person padded by without suspecting a thing.

“You can go now.”

Bentley climbed off the bed and turned back, looking at the boy. He whispered: “How do I shut them all down?” 

There was a moment of silence. “What? No, Bentley, you’re here for Asten.”

“No, I…” He glanced at the whirring machine. At the evil, evil machine. “I can’t let them all die. Just tell me how to shut them down.”

“Bentley-”

“Please! It’ll stop draining everyone and I’ll still be able to get him,” Bentley begged. “I can’t leave them, Charlie.”

“Hold on! Hold on, just let me think,”

A few moments of silence passed, and Bentley merely stood there.

“Okay,” Charlie finally breathed. “Okay. Okay. Listen to me. There’s a main pump that controls all the smaller pumps in here, carries all the blood to another room where it gets filtered and stuff. You’re going to cut power to that pump. But you only have five minutes.”

“Okay,”

“Go back in the vents. If you run now, you should be able to slip in unseen,”

Numbly, Bentley listened to her. He climbed back in the vent and went to the next room over, (a control room, she said.), where his job was to beat the absolute hell out of some control panel and rip wires out of it until it stopped making noise. So he did.

After that, she claimed that he’d done it. She said something, told him a number of how many kids he’d saved, but he didn’t hear it. He threw up again in that room.

He blindly followed her orders back to the medical room he’d been in, and switched from curtained area to curtained area, narrowly avoiding all of the scrambling doctors and scientists who were trying to figure out why everything had stopped working. He was numb, blank, and he didn’t feel much of anything until Charlie directed him into one of the privacy curtains — the fourth one on the seventh row.

And when he opened it, all the feelings and stuff he’d been trying to keep an arm's length away slammed back into place inside of him.

Because Asten was laying in the bed.

He was hooked up to all the same machines as everybody else, but his blood wasn’t moving through the tubes anymore. His chest was rising and falling; somewhat quickly, but it didn’t matter to Bentley, as long as it was. He looked almost as white as a sheet of paper, and his lips were slightly blue from the loss of blood. But he was there.

Bentley made a sound akin to a wheeze as every emotion he'd ever felt in his life washed over him. He wanted to cry and scream and smile and kill something and dance and all kinds of things that, when he felt them all at once, simply resulted in him standing there.

“Through the curtain to your left, Bentley, there’s a tray with a few syringes on it; it’s a reversal drug. It will wake him up from the anesthesia. You can do it, okay?”

With a few poor excuses of breaths, Bentley swiped open the curtain next to him, trying hard not to look at the teenage boy in the bed. He scoured the small space for syringes instead, and he found them, on a small cart next to the quiet machines.

He grabbed one, turned around, and jammed it into Asten’s arm.

It took a little bit — maybe two minutes or so? — before he groaned lightly, his green eyes fluttering slowly open.

“Asten,” Bentley whispered, heading to the other side of the bed and starting to pull all the needles and tubing out of his arm. Asten stirred more, probably at the pain, his green irises flicking around until they finally landed on Bentley’s face.

“B’ntley?”

“Asten,” He breathed, a sense of relief washing over him that nearly made him bawl again. Asten went about sitting up, but proved to be really weak, so Bentley had to help him by hiding his back off the mattress. As soon as he was sitting upright, Bentley hugged him as tight as he dared. 

“Bentley,” Asten continued. His arms came up very vaguely, and Bentley felt him grab onto his jumpsuit gently, his head lolling down onto his shoulder seemingly by itself. “M’ feel like shit.”

“Me, too,” Bentley muttered. “But we have to get out of here, okay? We have to get out of here. We have to leave.”

“You’ve created a distraction with the pump failure, and Rockie’s creating a massive diversion himself. If you go now, toward the exit that goes to your building, I can keep all the stragglers off of you. You’re home free.”

Bentley, as badly as he wanted to hold onto Asten and never let go ever, pulled away after a few seconds. “Can you stand?”

Asten didn’t say anything, but he did push himself off of the bed and onto the floor; which was immediately followed by the buckling of his weak knees and Bentley having to muster up strength enough to catch him himself. 

“I’ve got you, buddy,” Bentley mumbled, trying his damn hardest to bare Asten's weight with his weak body. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

Asten merely whined: “Bentley.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” He continued, pulling one of Asten's arms around his shoulders in an attempt to keep him upright. "Just try to walk as best you can okay?"

"Okay..."

"All you have to focus on is getting out, I promise. I'll keep everything else away. All you have to do is walk," Charlie said in his head. "You're going to come out of his privacy curtain and go right, down the walkway -- then left. The door is there."

Bentley, with some sort of strength he had to be getting from a place he didn't even know of, pushed himself and Asten out of the makeshift hospital room and out into the walkways, following Charlie's directions as best he could. After the right and left turn, and a little bit of a walk, the door to the room was there -- it led back to the main hallway. The bright one, that led all the way back to his building.

One long hallway, and then they were out.

"Only focus on walking, Bentley," Charlie reminded. "You're done fighting. I've got you."

Bentley didn't do anything but obey her. He opened the door with the keycard and went out into the hall. The gunshots were still audible, but had faded further away, so much so that they sounded like something different. Or maybe that noise was his ears ringing.

With every single step, Bentley was pushing towards complete failure. He could feel his strength slipping away like someone had shot a hole in the tank -- everything that had been bearing down on him for the past month; the stress, the sickness, the lack of self-preservation, the fear, the neglect; it was all coming back to haunt him at the worst time in the worst way. Asten's life depended on him, and here he was, sick and weak and hardly able to think a coherent sentence through the absolute agony that he was embodying.

Still, somehow, he kept walking. He wasn't sure what it was that was pushing him on; determination, or willpower, or spite, or fear, or hope. He couldn't decide what feeling was most prominent in the tornado that was him. He merely focused on putting one foot in front of the other, and holding Asten up, for a long, long time.

Until they made it a mere ten yards from the stairs and exit, so close he could see it, so close he could practically feel the EM field begging to give him his power back...

Asten said something.

"B, I'm... about to pass out,"

And then he did.

It took every ounce of strength left inside of Bentley to keep him from hitting the floor when he fell. The second pair of legs that had been somewhat spurring him on turned into dead weight in a split second. Bentley managed to grab him under the arms and pull him off to the side -- into a small hallway, the last small hallway before they made it out.

"Asten," He mumbled as he laid him down on the floor. He was still pale as snow, and still breathing, but completely unconscious.

Bentley grabbed at his shoulders and touched him, tried to poke and prod him back into consciousness, fighting off a horrendous migraine and the urge to vomit. "Asten, we're almost out, come on. Please. We're almost done."

Cli-click.

"Get away from him. Hands up in the air,"

Bentley drew in a sudden breath and grew eerily still at the sound of a gun being chambered behind him.

"Now. Get up,"

He knew that voice. He knew it, and he'd known it would come back to haunt him.

Slowly, hands raised in the air, he stood up, leaving Asten's limp form on the floor -- a silent hope that he would be left alone.

Bentley looked up. Back into the bright main hallway.

And there stood Mr. Keene. His math teacher. Dr. Keene's little brother. With a big, shiny pistol, aimed right at Bentley's head, and big, amber eyes instead of grey-blue, visible behind big glasses.

He flicked the gun to the left. "Well? Come into the light. Don't make any sudden moves."

Bentley stepped gingerly back into the main hallway with his hands up near his head, keeping his eye trained on the barrel of the gun as it followed his every movement, puppeteered his direction. He could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. His breaths were trying to force themselves in and out with a violence, but he didn't let them.

"Please," He mumbled. "Please. Just let us go."

"You destroyed my family. What are we supposed to do now? Let our legacy die because one kid couldn't follow the rules?" He asked; though Bentley realized it was probably her talking more than him. "I can't let you leave. Your story ends here, now, Bentley Whittaker."

"Bentley Wayne," He corrected. The gun was shaking in the man's hand, but stayed pointed at his head anyway, hovering probably eight or ten feet away from him.

"You ran from me, you cried because of me, you fought me, and you deceived me," The man mumbled, a look of relief, of contentment crossing his features. "And now... you'll die by my hand. It's the only ending. The only true way this story can end."

"Charlie-"

"THAT'S NOT MY NAME!" She roared through the man's mouth, the gun trembling vigorously in his hand. "I have no name. I am no one. I am everyones worst nightmare, and their perfect dream. And you, Bentley Wayne," He spat, she spat. "Are going... to sleep."

Bentley watched the barrel of the gun tremble as his grip tightened on the weapon, to pull the trigger, and-

Someone stepped in front of him.

"No,"

It was Asten.

"Get out of the way, boy," The man with the amber eyes ordered.

By the looks of it, Asten was having a hard enough time keeping himself up as it was. With his own head settling right between Bentley's and the barrel of the gun, his body begging to give out so badly Bentley could practically hear it. He was mere moments from collapse. They all knew. But even then, he didn't move.

Bentley stepped forward. "Asten, move."

"...No,"

"Asten,"

"No,"

"Get out of my way," The Secret Keeper growled through the man's mouth. "Or I'll shoot through both of you."

"Asten, move," Bentley ordered, his eyes burning, heart slamming around in his chest. "Asten, please, move."

"No,"

"Asten!"

"No,"

BANG!

Bentley and Asten and even the man with the gun flinched when the shot sounded, so loud and deafening it seemed to reverberate through the facility halls. Bentley's world spun, and his vision suddenly had dots swimming in it, though he didn't feel any pain.

Thump.

He forced his body to work. Forced his vision to return. Forced his brain to come back on.

The man with the gun was laying on the floor, the back of his head blown wide open, coating the white floor with crimson.

Red Hood was standing a few meters behind his corpse, pistol outstretched and smoking at the barrel.

"Jason," Bentley mumbled, taking a few steps forward in disbelief, settling just in front of Asten. "Asten, its Jason."

Chloe had done it.

They were going to be okay.

Bentley took another step toward the vigilante, but his socked foot nudged something that dinged across the white floor.

Bentley glanced down at it.

A bullet casing.

A gold bullet casing, right near his foot, rolling lazily across the floor from where he'd kicked it.

His eyes trailed to the dead man, from his exploded head to his hands, to the pistol on the floor a few feet from him, which had smoke slowly seeping from its barrel.

"...Bentley?"

Bentley turned around, his gaze catching on Asten's face. It was whiter than before; his green eyes were blown wide and glistening with something he couldn't place. His mouth was hung open in shock. His hands were hovering in the air near his torso, uncertainly, and-

There was a really, really large stain of crimson growing there.

Bentley's entire world came crashing down on his head as soon as he realized.

He lurched forward just in time to catch Asten before he hit the white tile, all but falling with him, keeping him from hitting the floor. He tried to make words but he couldn't; the only coherent noise that managed to escape him was a desperate scream:

"Jason!"

A mere second and the vigilante was by his side. Red Hood all but ripped his helmed off with a thunk, uncaring, tossing it to the side and letting it bounce across the floor with the sound of metal on tile.

"Talk to him," Jason ordered, his black and white hair frazzled and damp from the helmet, his face trained into neutrality even though Bentley knew him good enough to see the panic through it. "Talk to him, Bentley."

Bentley looked down at Asten. He was sort of laying across his lap, and Bentley had his head gathered in his hands, cradling it close to his chest, keeping him from looking down at the wound Jason was now putting pressure on. Jason spoke to someone, but it wasn't him. Did he have an earpiece in?

Asten kept taking quick, ragged breaths, and his hands, soaked with blood, came up to hold onto Bentley's arms that were around his head. "I guess..." He sort of gasped, sort of choked. "I guess that... plot armor isn't so thick a...anymore, huh?"

Bentley could feel the way his entire body seemed to be buzzing and trembling, and so he held his head higher to his own chest, brushing a couple of fingers across the hair near his forehead in a means of comfort. "It... It, it isn't... Its..."

"It's okay," Asten mumbled, his green eyes staying trained on Bentley's, his hands gripping harder at his arms. "It's okay. I'm okay, B, don't.. don't be scared. I'm okay."

Jason was talking. Bentley didn't hear it. Someone skidded into Bentley's view, a little ways down the hallway. A quick flinch and glance up revealed that it was Rockie, bloody and looking suddenly sick, with Layla wrapped tightly around one arm. His inhuman green eyes were scouring Asten's frame and when they met Bentley's, they were brimming with tears.

"It's okay," Asten continued to ramble shakily, grabbing and gripping at Bentley's arms sort of frantically, leaving blood everywhere. "It's okay. I'm okay."

His entire torso was red. Jason's hands were red. Bentley could see it in his peripheral.

"Asten..." Bentley said, vibrating from terror and adrenaline, unable to produce any real sentences. "Asten."

"It's okay. I'm okay. Don't look at it. It's okay," Asten continued to ramble, balling up Bentley's sleeves in his hands, keeping his eyes trained solely on Bentley's. For some reason, the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smile. A moment of silence passed.

"That's funny," He snickered quietly, his green eyes building with tears that fell over, down the sides of his face not a second later. "It... It doesn't hurt. Is Summer here?"

Bentley tried to ignore the fact that the entire right side of his peripheral vision was red. "Jason is," Bentley gritted out.

"Jason," Asten seemed to snap into reality a little bit more at the realization, and he tried to look down at Jason, at his torso, but Bentley's grip around his neck and head wouldn't let him. "Jason."

"I'm right here," Jason said. It sounded well-trained and vigilante like, but it wobbled at the end, and Bentley caught it.

"Jason," Asten seemed to relax his struggling to look for him, instead, just turning his gaze back up into Bentley's eyes. "Jason. I'm scared."

"It's going to be alright, okay? Just keep talking to us," Jason ordered.

"Jason. I'm scared," He repeated. "Is it... dark? I don't like the dark."

"Asten-"

"What is it like?" He asked, though his eyes were trained solely on Bentley's. "Is it dark?"

"Don't be afraid," Jason continued. Bentley realized that he'd stopped moving so much. Not a few seconds later he was on the opposite side of Asten, leaning forward so Asten could see his face. Why wasn't he tending to the wound anymore? "It's just like falling asleep."

Asten blinked, a few more tears falling down the sides of his face. "I don't wanna fall asleep."

He reached numbly for Jason with bloody hands until Jason peeled his crimson gloves off and grabbed them, holding them tightly so the three of them were just a tangle of arms with Asten's head in the middle.

"There's... something you need to tell Bruce," Asten said, his eyes flicking over to Jason, then back to Bentley. "You... you have to tell him I changed my mind, okay? He asked me, but... but I told him no, I don't... I don't know why I did that..."

"What is it, buddy?" Jason asked softly. "What do you want us to tell him?"

"That I changed my mind," Asten suddenly coughed, a little bit of blood splattering from his lips onto his chin. "That I do want... I do want to be..."

He gasped strangely, and an unidentifiable expression crossed his features.

"That you want to be what?" Jason pressed.

Asten looked over at him, and smiled slightly, with crimson stained teeth. A few more tears slipped from the corners of his eyes. "A Wayne."

Jason choked.

Jason choking was the last thing Bentley heard before Asten's arms, tangled up in both of theirs, went slack, and he went completely limp in his grip.

Silence ensued.

"Asten," Bentley muttered, cradling his head closer to his chest, lifting it up, higher. "Asten."

Asten's eyes were looking at nothing.

"Asten," Bentley tried again, softly, holding tight to him and blinking. He looked down at him and brushed his hair away again with a few fingers. "Asten."

Asten never moved.

Bentley stopped saying his name. Instead, he just pulled him closer, and Jason held his hands, and Bentley let his own head fall until his face was hidden in his black and blue hair.

And he didn't move.

Asten Evans...

was dead.

--

HOLY SHIT

tag list that KINDA works

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #352: Xu Fu

today on Grailfinders we’re building the most lesby of annes, Xu Fu! she’s a Life Cleric to work on that elixir of immortality like she’s supposed to, but she’s also an Undead Warlock to make horror movies real and make the exact opposite of an elixir of immortality. girls have to have hobbies, y’know?

check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

next up: ok so it should be lady avalon, but. that’s just merlin. like literally just merlin. I know she has slight differences in fgo but we don’t have buster or arts cards in D&D so she’s just merlin. I’m just gonna skip to the next new servant instead, so get ready for summer!

Ancestry & Background

much to her own dismay, Xu Fu is a Human, so she gets +1 Wisdom and +1 Charisma, as well as proficiency in Deception to convince the emperor to get you as far away from him as possible before you break the news to him and a feat of her choice. That feat actually only makes sense with your background stuff, so we’ll come back to it after her background.

Xu Fu is an Imperial Engineer, which is an Izzet Engineer with the serial numbers filed off. that gives her proficiency in Arcana and Investigation. you also get some Guild Spells, which you can add to any spell list you know. we only care about getting animate objects to make some giant dolls, but feel free to check out the rest, they’re pretty cool.

back to that feat now. as a Prodigy you get another skill proficiency in Stealth to stay hidden in Japan, and Expertise (a.k.a. double proficiency) in Arcana. your failure in finding that elixir wasn’t for a lack of trying, you can be sure of that.

Ability Scores

number one is Wisdom. you need that as a cleric, and taoist arts just has that wisdom vibe anyway, y’konw? but experimenting with magic means your Intelligence is also pretty solid, even if we don’t need it for much in-build. Charisma is next- you lied to the emperor of China and got away with it, and the entire fanbase has more or less forgotten that time you tried to kill us in favor of focusing on your lesbianism. good job, way to girlboss. this means your Constitution is a bit low, but we never knew how long you actually surivived in Japan, so there’s nothing to say it should be high. I’m not cruel enough to give you negative Dexterity, so that just leaves Strength. by all rights, you should be a caster, and casters have them noodle arms.

Class Levels

1. Cleric 1: when you start off your job in the emperor’s court, you’ve got proficiency in Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as History and Religion. you also specialize in the Life domain, making you into a Disciple of Life, giving extra HP to every creature you heal.

speaking of healing, you get Spells now! as a cleric, you can prepare your spells from the whole cleric list plus your super special domain list each day, so you don’t need to sweat your choices too much. so to keep this slightly less wordy than usual, I’m going to say now that if it involves healing or buffing Yu Mei Ren, it’s a good pick. I’ll mention other spells specifically though.

for your cantrips, grab Guidance to get even better at arcana checks and Sacred Flame for some gambit cards to toss at people. you also get Thaumaturgy, because every caster build needs that one cantrip that lets you do a little of everything. you can also figure out others’ taoist arts, so that’s Detect Evil and Good and Detect Magic under your belt, and pick up Purify Food and Drink too. it’ll be a while before you fuse with that harvest god, but you might as well get it now. or don’t, again you can pick up whatever spells you want every day.

2. Cleric 2: second level clerics can use Channel Divinity once a short rest in one of two ways. Turn Undead is a bit unfortunate for someone with a zombie army, but it’s still something you can do. you can also Preserve Life as an action, healing a total of five times your level to as many nearby creatures as you wish, though this can’t bring them up past half health. you’re level 2, immortality’s a bit beyond us still.

3. Cleric 3: third level clerics get second level spells. Find Traps is ironically a trap itself, but it’s still something you can do. as long as they’re taoist traps.

4. Cleric 4: use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Wisdom. this gets you stronger spells and you can remember more every day! you also get the cantrip Spare the Dying. every second you’re alive is arguably immortality, right?

5. Cleric 5: at level five you can Destroy Undead instead of turning them if they’re below CR ½. it’s even worse for your zombie army, but they don’t have a union yet. they also don’t exist yet, so either way it’s future you’s problem.

you also get third level spells, so now you can Create Food and Water to satisfy your harvest god powers. I’d also get something for that other god in you but “create pottery” isn’t really a thing. Meld into Stone might work.

you can even Bestow Curses this level, and anything goes with curses as long as the DM approves. “you have to live by horror movie rules” feels a bit strong for a third level spell but that summer was like 90% plot powered anyway.

6. Cleric 6: you can now channel divinity twice a short rest, and as a Blessed Healer any healing you do to someone else heals you too! if you’re using group healing spells you can even double-dip.

7. Cleric 7: seventh level clerics get fourth level spells, and it looks like I spoke too soon. Stone Shape exists, so I guess you can create pottery. my bad.

8. Cleric 8: eighth level clerics get another ASI, so bump up your Charisma for a secret tool that will help us later. Destroy Undead hits CR 1 creatures now, and you can add a little radiant damage to your Blessed Strikes once per round. despite the name, this works on your spells and weapon attacks.

9. Cleric 9: ninth level clerics get fifth level spells, and we got something even better than curses! with Hallow, you can turn a patch of land into your own horror movie set, messing with the powers of creatures that enter the area. you can make it so other creatures are frightened as long as they’re in the area, are weak to certain elements, or prevent any sound at all from being made, among many other things. it’ll take a hell of a long time and a lot of money to hallow an whole lake, but once you get that elixir working you’ll have plenty of time.

also grab Contagion for one of many ways your immortal-killing curses will take effect. contagion’s such a messed up spell I love it.

10. Cleric 10: clerics at tenth level don’t get a lot. I mean Divine Intervention is cool when it works since it’s practically a get out of jail free card, but a one in 10 chance of working isn’t great. you also get one last cantrip. so I guess Produce Flame would be cool.

11. Cleric 11: at level eleven destroy undead hits CR 2 creatures, and you get sixth level spells. Harm is very harmful, dealing a ton of necrotic damage to a target. you can’t knock someone out with this spell, but it does reduce their HP maximum for up to an hour. you can also use True Seeing to see traps and magic without having to get specific about it. using it that way’s a bit wasteful, but it’s always an option.

12. Warlock 1: okay that’s enough of being the only person on the group project doing any work, let’s kill our heroes. and everyone else along the way. I’m not saying Xu Fu is an Undead warlock because Yu Mei Ren gave her any power, but you know she’d sign her soul away to her if she could.

whoever you made your deal with, they gave you a Form of Dread you can transform into as a bonus action, getting temporary HP, a way to frighten people, and immunity to the frightened condition yourself. you can do this proficiency times per day.

you also get Pact Magic, which is like regular magic but more convoluted, which ironically makes multiclassing simpler. you get a few spell slots from being a warlock, but they recharge every short rest. grab Blade Ward to not die as fast, and Infestation for another way to kill people. for your spells, Expeditious Retreat keeps you away from the front lines, while Hex is just another way to curse people. it’s kind of your thing at this point.

13. Warlock 2: at second level you can Cause Fear, which is really underpowered compared to some of the stuff you get up to, but redundancy is never a bad idea. what aren’t redundant are your Eldritch Invocations, little ways to personalize your soul-selling experience. Armor of Shadows lets you finally cast mage armor on yourself for some much-needed AC, while Fiendish Vigor lets you cast False Life on yourself at will for temporary HP.

14. Warlock 3: third level warlocks get the Pact of the Chain, letting you summon a yu mei ren doll as a ritual, and she can even attack for you! I mean it’s a doll, it won’t hurt much, but it’s doable! you can also use Misty Step to, again, stay away from danger. you’re trying not to die here.

15. Warlock 4: use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity to not die even harder. you can also use Eldritch Blast for some spammable card attacks, or Cloud of Daggers to make them float in place and slice up whoever walks through.

16. Warlock 5: fifth level warlocks get third level spells! use Summon Undead to bring your slasher to life, and bring yourself even more life with Gift of the Ever-Living Ones. it’s a bit weird that pact of the chain has a healing bonus invocation, but I’m not looking a gift HP total in the mouth. whenever your familiar is within 100 feet of you, dice used to regain your HP always roll their maximum, for you specifically. I would argue this means something like vampiric touch would always heal like it dealt max damage, but it’s a moot point anyway because you’re not a vampire.

17. Warlock 6: at level six you become Grave Touched, meaning you don’t need to eat, drink, or breathe, just like every other servant. you can also replace one attack’s damage per turn with necrotic damage, dealing a bonus die of damage if you’re in your form of dread.

you can also Summon Fey now. I know Xu Fu can’t really summon Yu Mei Ren, but you know she would if she could.

18. Warlock 7: seventh level, fourth level spell. Blight deals a lot of necrotic damage, real shocking I know. it’s a little better against plants, so you’ll be a big help in LB7. sorry for volunteering you in advance.

you also learn the invocation Mask of Many Faces, letting you cast Disguise Self freely to stow away as a gender-swapped master for the whole summer. good job, now they have dysphoria. you monster.

19. Warlock 8: use this last ASI to max out your Wisdom. you can also use Elemental Bane now for even more ways to kill the unkillable. I wish it gave a vulnerability, but an extra 2d6 damage and removed vulnerabilities is still nice.

20. Warlock 9: for our last level, you get fifth level spells! Cloudkill! it’s another aoe damage spell, but this one lasts a while, and it’s basically free atmospheric fog! you also get your last invocation, Undying Servitude! with this, you can cast animate dead for free once a day, finally giving you your zombie army! it’s three zombies. ...maybe that’s why they aren’t unionized…

Pros & Cons

Pros:

you are one of the best healers we’ve made so far. it’s a bit of a niche, but you fill it well. most importantly, you’re great at healing yourself, so you can avoid the awkward situation where the healer goes down and then nobody can get them back up.

the zombie army was kind of a bust, but you still have plenty of bodies you can put out on the field to keep enemies away from you thanks to spells like conjure minor elementals and animate objects. hell this kind of counts as preventative healing- every attack going towards a doll is one not aimed at a friend.

I know we barely touched on it, but the cleric spell list is one of the best in the game, and you have access to as much of it as you wish whenever you like. go nuts, get creative with the spells I’ve mentioned so far and the ones I haven’t, you’ll have a blast.

Cons:

you have neutral dexterity and you don’t get mage armor until level 13. good luck surviving that long. life clerics do get heavy armor proficiency, but that’s still just 14 AC and you’re breaking character to wear it. hell, even with mage armor you don’t do much better. it’s a good thing you’re great at healing- you’ll need to be.

your two classes have this kind of harsh split between them that make them not really work together- aside from gift of the ever living ones that works great. first off, any DM worth their salt will make you work to be a cleric and warlock at the same time without one invalidating the other. you summon zombies, and also kill them. you have extra radiant damage with blessed strikes, but your big damage spells are aoes. it goes on.

there’s a reason healing is niche. as long as people aren’t dead, it’s almost universally better to just hit the enemies to prevent the damage they’d deal. if you’re playing a game with a lot of fights between rests you’ll have plenty of use, but most games these days don’t do that, so you may be over-prepared for something unnecessary.

[blueisquitetired]

When you got time, do you have any tips on writing Ingo and Emmets dialogue? I really like how you write them but I can't seem to get their speech down. It's mainly Ingos which is annoying since he canonical has more dialogue than Emmet.

Oh thank you!! I’m glad you enjoy- writing these boys dialogue is one of my favorite parts of writing and has made me seriously consider how I write speech for every character I do. It’s been great practice!

Okay, actual advice time lol.

HOW TO WRITE INGO AND EMMET

(According to me, Blue)

(Now, keep in mind that there isn’t one true way to write the boys, and this is just how I personally write them. Take this with a grain of salt)

When you’re first starting out writing the boys I recommend writing dialogue in your own voice and then submasifying it.

For example, let’s take this dialogue and transform it:

“Sorry I’m late for work! My dog chewed through my nice pants so I had to find some new ones! It’s been a bit of a rough day today, not gonna lie.”

So starting with Ingo-

Ingo talks extremely formally and is super long winded. When writing dialogue for him, try to imagine a fancy British butler who uses long words and long sentences. Replace normal words with more “fancy” ones and use more words then you really need to. (A thesaurus can be extremely useful for this)

“My sincerest apologies for my tardy arrival!”

Then, pepper in train terms as much as possible. If he goes three sentences without saying something train related, find a way to stick one in. If you’re stuck, look up a list of train words and take inspiration (I’ll include a list of train expressions I commonly pull from at the bottom of the post) (Make sure to use “Bravo!” and “All aboard!” whenever applicable as well)

“I awoke to the unpleasant surprise of joltik holes in my trousers this morning- which delayed my cab significantly as I was forced to find an undamaged pair!”

I personally strive to use consonants (stuff like I’d, we’ll, don’t) as little as possible with the boys. For Emmet it’s to add to the choppiness of his dialogue and for Ingo it’s because that man would rather use fifty words when one will do. (It also makes them sound more professional!)

“Honestly, after a morning like this one, I pray that the remainder of today’s tracks prove to be much smoother.”

Another thing to keep in mind is that Ingo is extremely polite while Emmet is a bit more blunt. Try to use titles like “sir” and “miss” when writing Ingo- and then just don’t bother with Emmet.

Next up is Emmet, who I personally find much harder then Ingo! Unlike Ingo who’s dialogue you need to add words to, Emmet you need to subtract and simplify! This is the post I originally read to kinda get the jive of things, but here’s my pointers!

First off, figure out what concepts the are being expressed in your sentence, and split those apart.

“Sorry I’m late for work!” has two parts- an apology and an acknowledgment that the person is late. For Emmet we would want to split this single sentence into two.

“I am Emmet! I am late! Sorry!”

Next is vocal ticks! Emmet has several, and they should ideally be sprinkled in sparingly through his dialogue. (You can see that I used ‘I am Emmet’ in the previous section)

‘I am Emmet’ should be used when he is joining a conversation or when he’s about to say something about himself. It CAN be used more then once in a single conversation- but try not to overdo it.

‘Verrrrrrrry’ is another one! Other submas authors have him roll the r on other words as well, but I stick with verrrrrry. This one is easy to use- just extend the word very with extra Rs and use very whenever naturally applicable.

‘Yup’ is one as well- and one I admittedly don’t use often. It rarely jives with the way I write Emmet so I usually don’t bother- but you should definitely keep it in mind!

And of course, train terms! Less often then Ingo of course (since he says less words in general) but if you can find a way to fit it in, go for it.

“The joltiks chewed holes in my pants! Verrrrry naughty. Had to find new pants. Holey pants do not pass safety checks! Yup!”

Finally, the man likes his patterns! When writing Emmet it’s a good idea to have his Blubapedia page open nearby so you can just steal chunks of his script from that. (You can, and should do this for Ingo too!)

“Bad morning. Oh well. Follow the schedule! Everybody smile! All aboard!”

Of course, the man is perfectly capable of speaking longer sentences- but when and where he does so is up to the author.

All that being said, it’s important to remember that you’ll likely have to attempt their dialogue a few times before getting a sentence to flow right. Even for these examples I had to do a couple takes until I found one that really worked!

Here’s a couple of other notes for writing Pokémon characters in general:

Watch out for expressions and words that use animals. (like beeline or ‘in the dog house’) Try to replace those words with their Pokémon counterparts- (such as combeeline [which I’ve typed so many times I’ve started using internally in my day to day life]) or something that sounds close enough (like if your censoring f***, ducklett doesn’t work nearly as good as duck. So try muk instead!)

Do your best to replace religious swears with Pokémon religion! Instead of heavens, or the big G word, use words like, ‘Dragons!’ Or ‘Sweet Swords of Justice!’ (Of course, these are Unovan swears. For Hisui you should be using things like ‘Sinnoh’ and ‘great Time!’. Other regions have their own legendaries as well)

And finally, my list of train terms I pull from regularly!

Cab (or car): To refer to one’s body

“I am afraid my cab is in need of repairs.”

Tracks: A plan or intended route

“Very well! I will follow the tracks you have set!”

Destination: The goal or like, the actual destination

“Bravo! Your talent has brought you to the destination called victory!”

Station (or terminal): A location

“Very well! Let us set our tracks to the Pearl Clan’s station!”

Two Car Train (or three or four or whatever number you need): Friends or a team

“Emmet and I are a two car train!”

Couple (opposite being uncoupled): To join together

“I must ask that you couple your car to mine as we make our way through here. It can get quite dangerous!”

Engine: Another term for your body, but more specifically in regards to energy or drive

“I’m afraid I must rest my engine.”

Refuel: Eat.

“It is getting quite late- let us take a break to refuel.”

Conducting: Guiding

“I look forward to conducting you on this endeavor!”

Derailment (or collision, wreck, trainwreck): Something that has gone wrong.

“Apologies. It appears I have been derailed.”

Unscheduled (opposite being scheduled): Something unexpected

“Ah! A cave in! It appears we must make an unscheduled stop.”

Passenger: Person (or Pokémon)

“It appears we have picked up some unexpected passengers!”

Conductor: Ingo sometimes uses this to refer to himself (works especially well in Hisui)

“Passenger, please refrain from stabbing the conductor”

Delay: Something happening later then scheduled

“Apologies for the delay! Let us begin!”

Sidetracked: put off course

“Ah, but now I have sidetracked us with this talk.”

All aboard!: Good conversation ender 💙

“ALL ABOARD!!!”

[hookhausenschips]

Behind The Chaos

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Jon Moxley had long been an enigma to AEW fans. The rugged, unpredictable force in the ring, with his chaotic energy and blood-soaked intensity, often made it seem as though nothing could penetrate the hard shell he’d built around himself. But when he met Y/N, that shell began to crack in the most unexpected ways. 

Y/N wasn’t just another AEW wrestler—she was an unstoppable force of joy, with a contagious energy that seemed to light up every room she walked into. She had that rare ability to make people feel comfortable, to make them laugh even on their toughest days. It didn’t take long for her to catch Jon’s eye, but it took even less time for him to find himself drawn to her.  

At first, Jon was skeptical. He wasn’t exactly someone who gravitated toward TikTok stardom or prank videos. But when Y/N, with her infectious grin and mischievous sparkle in her eyes, asked him to join her in one of her ridiculous skits, he found himself agreeing—begrudgingly, of course.  

"Come on, Mox," she’d said, dragging him away from the locker room. "Just one video. It’ll be fun! I promise." 

Jon crossed his arms, giving her a side-eye that could have frozen lava. "I don’t do TikTok. I barely know what that even is. And no dances. I swear to God, if you try to make me do a dance challenge, we’re done." 

Y/N laughed, pulling out her phone and swiping through a list of viral pranks. "No dancing, I promise. Just... one little prank. That’s all I need. And then you can go back to your mysterious, brooding thing. Deal?" 

Jon hesitated. He could already feel himself getting roped in by her energy, despite his better judgment. "Fine. But I swear, if this goes south, I’m leaving you in the ring next time. Alone." 

"Deal," she said, her eyes practically sparkling. "You're gonna love it." 

--- 

I had no idea how this was going to go, but I knew it was going to be hilarious. Jon Moxley—the guy who could make grown men quake in their boots with just a glare—was going to help me prank some unsuspecting AEW talent. And, maybe, if I played my cards right, I’d be able to make a TikTok that’d go viral. I had the whole scenario planned out in my head. 

"Okay, here’s the deal," I told Jon as we slipped backstage to where the cameras were hidden, "I’m gonna pretend to be super mad at you, but I need you to look really, really upset. Like, you're about to go full-on angry Moxley mode. Can you do that?" 

He raised an eyebrow, his face a perfect mask of indifference. "Mad? At me? For what?" 

I shrugged dramatically, trying to keep a straight face. "Who cares? We’ll make it up as we go. Just... look mad at me. Real mad. You can’t break character, okay?" 

Jon let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah, I’ve got the ‘mad’ part down. Trust me." 

As I started the camera, I stormed up to him, face twisted in mock indignation. "Moxley! I’ve had enough of you acting like you're the only one who knows how to do this job! Seriously, do you even take me seriously? You’ve been walking around like the locker room’s your personal punching bag! What the hell is wrong with you?" 

He stood there for a moment, dead silent, his arms crossed over his chest. I could see the little smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, but he wasn’t giving me the satisfaction of breaking character.  

"What the hell is this about?" he asked flatly, completely unaffected by my dramatic outburst. 

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh. "I swear, Moxley, you’ve got to get it together. You’re impossible to work with!" 

Jon didn’t respond. He just stared at me, his expression stone-cold. 

I was barely holding it together. It was so hard to keep the prank going when his deadpan reactions were so perfect. Finally, I burst out laughing, dropping my angry persona entirely. "Gotcha! It was a joke. You should see your face right now!" 

Jon blinked, then, as if on cue, cracked the faintest smile—just enough to make the fans behind the camera lose it. 

"You’re unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head.  

"Yeah," I said with a grin, "but you love it." 

He didn’t answer. But when I checked the footage, I knew I had something gold. His expression had been perfect, like a stone wall, and when it cracked, it was only for the briefest moment. That was Jon Moxley: tough as nails, but you could never fully break him, not even with the silliest prank.  

--- 

Despite his initial reluctance, Jon found himself getting caught up in Y/N's world. The pranks, the playful banter, the ridiculous TikToks—it became a regular part of their lives. Jon didn’t talk much about it to anyone else, but when the cameras were on, and Y/N was coaxing him into another video, he couldn’t help but give in. There was something about the way she lit up whenever he played along that made it hard to resist.  

One day, Y/N had an idea for a viral dance trend—one that was way outside Jon’s comfort zone. It was a simple two-step with an exaggerated hip wiggle. She was all in, excited to get it perfect, but Jon was... less than enthusiastic.  

"Y/N," Jon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as she played the music in the background. "You do realize I’ve never danced in my life, right?" 

She tilted her head, giving him a sly smile. "You’re a natural, Mox. Just follow my lead. Trust me. We’re gonna make history." 

Jon narrowed his eyes, clearly skeptical. "I’m pretty sure history doesn’t need me looking like a damn fool." 

But when the beat dropped, and Y/N flashed him that mischievous grin, Jon found himself... moving. Reluctantly at first. Then, in spite of himself, he caught the rhythm. Y/N was right—he had that natural swagger, even if it was a little stiff at first. And the more they danced, the more he let go, until, for a fleeting moment, he wasn’t “Jon Moxley, the unbreakable wrestler.” He was just a guy in a goofy TikTok, dancing with his girlfriend.  

"See?" Y/N teased, twirling with a laugh. "Told you you had it in you." 

Jon gave her an exaggerated glare, his trademark smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You’ve got one more chance to pull this crap again, and I’m leaving you on the ring apron." 

"Uh-huh, sure," she said with a wink. "You love it." 

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, trying to suppress his own grin as she filmed the final part of the dance. "But don’t expect me to do it again." 

As the video went live, it exploded across the internet. Fans couldn’t get enough of the big, tough Jon Moxley breaking down his tough-guy persona just enough to show a different side of himself—the one that let himself have a little fun, especially with Y/N.  

--- 

The thing with Jon is, he’s not just this tough, brooding guy who will stare you down and make you nervous. He’s also the guy who will help me prank a whole locker room, let me drag him into my latest TikTok idea, and get so invested in it that, by the end of it, he’s the one laughing. Sure, he pretends to hate it sometimes—he’ll claim he’s not cut out for it, that dancing and pranking aren’t his thing—but deep down, I know he loves the moments we get to just be ourselves, goofy and ridiculous.  

I can’t help but feel like we’ve created our own little world, a place where we balance out each other’s extremes. He brings that edge, that calm in the chaos, and I bring the chaos. And together, we’re unstoppable.  

So, yeah, Jon Moxley may never admit it, but he’s my partner in crime—and that’s a role he’s going to be stuck with forever. 

--- 

Despite Jon’s usual resistance to the chaos of social media, the TikTok videos continued to roll in, gaining more and more traction each time. The fans adored it. The sight of Jon Moxley, AEW’s resident wild man, doing a goofy dance or playing along with Y/N’s ridiculous pranks, was a breath of fresh air. It wasn’t just that people found it entertaining; there was something about seeing the tough guy loosen up, his walls coming down, that made the whole thing even more endearing. 

On any given day, backstage at AEW, Y/N could be seen with her phone in hand, buzzing with excitement, trying to convince Jon to join her for the next big video. And though he grumbled and acted like he couldn’t possibly be bothered, she knew better. Deep down, she knew he was just as hooked on their little world as she was. Their relationship—unconventional, unpredictable, and full of laughter—had grown to become something they both cherished. 

--- 

Somehow, I had totally underestimated how much fun Jon and I would have together. I mean, yeah, I knew he was funny in his own way—his dry, sarcastic humor was a hit with me—but I hadn’t anticipated him actually getting into the whole TikTok thing. Like, seriously, if you told me a year ago that Jon Moxley would be filming a goofy skit with me in the AEW locker room, I would've laughed in your face. 

This morning, though, I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was actually considering one of my latest ideas—a "prank wars" challenge, where we filmed ourselves pranking one another for a full week, and the loser had to do a ridiculous dare. He’d been quiet all morning, nursing his coffee, staring at me over the top of his cup like I was about to present the worst idea in history.  

I could feel the tension before I even opened my mouth.  

“Come on, Jon,” I pleaded, leaning on the table where he was sitting. "Think about it. We could totally make it hilarious! You’d get to prank me back, which I know you’ve been dying to do." 

Jon just gave me a look—one of those “Are you serious?” looks that made me laugh even harder. "I’m not gonna prank you, Y/N. You’re the one with all the tricks. I’m just here to watch you embarrass yourself." 

I pouted, crossing my arms. “You know you want to. How about this: If I win, you have to post a solo dance video. No excuses." 

His eyes narrowed at the suggestion. "Dance video? With me?" 

"Yep!" I said, completely unfazed. "You’ll have to do a challenge, just you. No ‘helping’ you, no ‘I’m too tired,’ none of that. It’s a solo gig. I’ll even help you pick the song!" 

Jon stared at me for a moment, the skepticism on his face so apparent that I nearly cracked. "You’re gonna regret that. The second I beat you, you’re gonna have to do two dares, and they’re gonna be worse than anything you can think of." 

I grinned, already plotting my revenge. "Deal. And if you lose, I get to pick your dare. And trust me, it’ll be something epic." 

Jon let out a low sigh, like he’d been suckered into something he couldn't back out of now. "Fine. But if you prank me with something ridiculous again, you’re dead to me." 

"You say that now," I teased, tapping the top of his head as I stood up. "But we both know you secretly love it." 

--- 

The pranks escalated over the next few days, each one more outlandish than the last. Y/N had a gift for finding the little things that made Jon tick—his dislike for cold water, his intolerance for spicy food, and his general preference for not being bothered. Each time, he played along, his gruff exterior hiding the amusement in his eyes. 

The pranks became a playful battleground. On the fourth day, Jon retaliated with his own bit of sabotage. Y/N was about to film a harmless dance challenge when she realized the music was gone. In its place was an audio clip—of her own voice, mocking herself, playing on a loop. 

“Wait—what the hell?” she exclaimed, looking around the room for Jon. 

Jon’s laugh rang out from the corner, where he was pretending to be busy with a phone call. “Thought you might like my remix,” he said, his smirk wide and unapologetic. “It’s a work in progress.” 

"You—" Y/N started, but she couldn’t hold it in. The laughter bubbled up uncontrollably as she lunged for him. "I swear to God, Mox, this is war. I’m picking the next prank. And you're gonna regret it." 

Jon just shook his head, feigning exhaustion. "I’ll be sleeping with one eye open, then." 

--- 

Jon had definitely upped his game with that prank, but I wasn’t going to let it slide. No way. I had a new idea in mind, something that would blow him out of the water. The thing was, Jon was relentless when it came to these pranks. He never seemed to tire of them, which only made me want to try harder. But as we approached the final day of our challenge, something shifted. 

We were getting ready for a big AEW show, and I noticed Jon looking unusually... calm. He wasn’t as excited to pull pranks anymore, and for a second, I wondered if maybe I’d pushed him too hard.  

“Hey,” I said, sliding into the seat next to him as he laced up his boots. “You okay? You seem... off today.” 

Jon glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "I’m fine. Just... focused." 

But that didn’t sound like the Jon I knew. Usually, he was all jokes, all laughs. Something was bothering him. “Are you sure? You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

He shrugged, still not looking at me. "I know. Just thinking about the match tonight. That’s all." 

I frowned, leaning forward a little, my voice softening. "You know, you don’t have to hide behind that... ‘tough guy’ persona all the time. You don’t have to be all business, Jon. Not with me. We can take a break from the wrestling world, just for a minute. Let’s enjoy this. Let’s enjoy us." 

Jon’s gaze softened when he looked at me, and I could tell he appreciated my words, even if he didn’t say it out loud. "I know. I’m just... trying to keep my head in the game, you know? I can’t turn it off when I need to." 

I smiled gently, brushing my fingers against his. "You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You’re already more than enough." 

His hand tightened around mine, his eyes locking with mine. There was a sincerity there, something raw and genuine that I didn’t see too often. “You really think so?” 

I nodded. “Yeah. You’re perfect to me.” 

He let out a breath, as if he’d been holding it in for too long, and for a moment, the tough exterior cracked—just for a second, but enough for me to see that underneath it all, he was just as vulnerable as anyone else. And that, I realized, was what made him so special.  

Jon Moxley might have been a warrior in the ring, but in my world, he was just Jon. And that was enough for both of us. 

[luffyvace]

There’s gonna be a new op series called character remix!!

this is so exciting and cool!

here’s my thoughts and take on it 💌💗

so if you haven’t heard it’s basically where we’ll get to view all the strawhats pov before they met Luffy, instead of picking up on they’re life where Luffy met them since the anime is in his pov. They’ll be going in chronological order and the first 2 volumes will come out July 4th. Starting with Luffy I believe, in stead of flashbacks like marineford we’ll get the full thing! :) yippie! Also! There’s gonna be 580 pages per volume! That’ll totally be packed with info right?! 🎉

starting with who I’m most curious about:

Robin: 📖📚

she’s first because most backstories are straight to the point in flashbacks but for me it just feels like it happened really quickly. Personal opinion. Also! We got to see that she likes books but we mostly saw her pain. The only thing to have ever made her happy as a child was books, Saul and the researchers. Therefore we didn’t get a chance to learn much about little robin! Would she like dolls if she had to opportunity to get one? Or building blocks? If she wasn’t neglected would she have been a louder person naturally? You never know because how you grow up can mold you, so if you’re in a survival mode from such a young age you don’t get much time to focus on your personality! Which is why I like Robin’s “saying creepy things” gag, it lets me know she’d be a bit of a weirdo! But it can also stem from hardly having any light in her life- also fact that she’s straightforward about it shows some of her personality as well!

Zoro: ⚔️🗡️

this guy’s past is definitely gonna be good! We seriously didn’t get to see anything about him at all! We don’t know what he like’s personally, and yes training and such, but what about silly little adventures?! He lost Kuina which is a part of big part of darkness in his life, but we still don’t know Zoro on a deep level. Really it’s just gonna be interesting to see what the volume has to offer! :)

Franky: 🤖🦾

this!!! This guy! Nobody talks about how little we know of him! It’s like Zoro, we only know what he’s good at! We only know he likes to build! But we don’t know any habits or hobbies he could’ve tried to pick up that didn’t stick, we didn’t see him evolve and grow! Franky and Robin are in their 30s! We don’t even know what they were like in their 20s! Especially not franky!! I’m really pumped to see what he’ll be like from the flashback up til when he meets Luffy, a weirdo that’s for sure. It’d be fun to see the franky family funny moments too!

Brook: ☠️🏴‍☠️

Dude. No one talks about the fact that his flashback started when he was already an adult!! The only reason we know what he looks like as a child is because Oda drew it! Obviously he was playing music back then as well, but all the strawhats ambitions started when they were a kid! That’s not enough info! We don’t know his parents, hometown, anything! We don’t even know why he loves music! I mean we do, but not really we’re it stems from directly, was his parents out of the picture? Were they there but didn’t care so music was all he had? Were they struggling financially? Did he raise himself? What?!

Nami: 🍊🧡

again! All we know is her dream, not her personally! The most we know is why she loves money! And that was shown in the flashback! We also know she wasn’t financially stable, but what about the day to day life? Did the tangerine sales pick up in the summer? Why weren’t they selling good? Couldn’t they have gone to all the neighboring towns to sell them? How did Bellmere break the news that they weren’t a biological family when Nami was of age? Did she always figure and it was an unspoken thing? Or did Nami cry when she found out? We don’t know!

Sanji: 🧑‍🍳🥘

ngl he would be higher on the list if I watch whole cake but I’m only on Zou 😁 anyway, the article I read to find out the series was coming out mentioned the fact that we don’t know exactly when and how Zeff met, which is a good point!! I’m interested in how that went down too! It pretty much just slipped over that during the flashback, did Sanji escape? Did Zeff take him in welcoming or did Sanji have to fight to get in? Did Zeff help break in out? Now keep in mind I haven’t watch Whole cake so if these questions have been answered I don’t know yet. Anyway that’s my take on it, but one more thing. I feel we’ll get a deeper sense of why Sanji loves to cook. And if there’s anything else he likes besides that!

Chopper: 🦌

I wanna see his day to day life! And also funny moments bc IK they’re there. Also to see him study more! Honestly just more background for this little cutie is all I want. Maybe he should be lower on this list….idk? I really wanna see his tho..

Usopp: 🤥

he’s also lower bc i feel they did a good job showing us enough of Usopp’s background. They got the point across real well, but I would like to see more Usopp pirate crew adventures tho!

Luffy: 🧑‍🌾

Lol the emoji is supposed to be a strawhat. Anyway I LOVE Luffy which makes it odd that he’s so low on this list, but he gets lots of screen time, I feel he also got the longest and most detailed backstory. They did a real good job covering most things, I’d honestly just want to see more adventures and they years between 14-17 bc they timeskiped it lol. Itd be fun to see teen Luffy and Ace interact more, since they’re not little kids anymore. Like arguments about who’s gonna be taller, hobbies they might’ve picked up, talking about what they’re gonna name they pirate crews, sneaking into Goa kingdom together and going through another man’s trash to find they’re own treasure. So I guess I might wanna see his more than I thought! Anywho!

🌷🏴‍☠️

-Brook

[op-smash-or-pass]

Welcome to One Piece smash or pass

This is based off of @fe-smashorpass except with One Piece characters here are the guidelines:

-Each day we will have 2 characters be chosen for smash or pass. The polls will last for a week.

-Obviously I am skipping: Animals/Minks, Children, characters that look like children, and dwarfs(Any character that is over the age of 18 after the timeskip we will use those designs)

-You guys can send me asks! Honestly I don’t know how quick I’ll respond to them but go ahead! It can be about anything (yes including headcannons + ships)

We also have a popularity poll going on! Here

Some important tags: #OP smash or pass (where you can find all the current and previous polls)

#Inbox trick or treating- the trick or treat event that went on

#Rosi’s holiday exchange- Holiday event that went on

Below are some FAQ’s that might pop up:

Q: how are you keeping track of the characters? How will you prevent from repeats?

A: I spent four hours making a spreadsheet and tried to weed out all the characters we can’t post here. If a character I missed pops up and I post it I’ll take it down and post a new one.

Q: What else are you a fan of?

A: I’m really into Coral island as of late. Fire emblem has always had a special place in my heart. I also have been playing a ton of Identity V as of late. (I’m a college student so I can really only watch anime)

Q: Are we allowed to ask you things not about One piece?

A: Yes but please keep it to a minimal, I love answering questions but remember this is a One Piece gimick blog first

Q: Are you gonna make a spreadsheet of the most smashable characters?

A: Yes! I have a friend who is willing to do it! Plus at the end I have something else planned :]

Q: Are we allowed to request characters?

No, I’m going in alphabetical order, but if I miss someone please let me know! Though if you want people to smash or pass your One Piece OC’s I can do that!

Q: What characters are we including?

A: As long as they fit in our categories and have a photo of them, they are welcome in this. So yes we have some movie characters but not a lot.

I have decided Momonosuke will not be in this poll because he has the mindset of a child

Q: Why are you doing this?

A: I’m jobless, bored, and hyper fixating hard. Also I thought it would be fun. Plus I wanna get a consensus on characters

Q: Do you have an age limit on this blog?

A: Not really, though if you are a minor and try to argue about this being NSFW then…unfollow idc it’s just a silly poll

Q: The series is still running what about future chapters with characters?

A: I’ll add them to the end of the list and we’ll circle back to them once my main list is done.

Q: How many characters are in this poll?

A: 1000+ most are male there’s only about 250 women in this poll. And yes I checked EVERY big mom child

Q: How are we incorporating Zoan devil fruits in this?

A: As long as they have a human form we will be using them. But the lab made zoan fruits were gonna go with how they look

Cheetah for legs: ❌ Ox for stomach: ✅

Q: Why are people smashing XYZ?

A: Idfk it’s Tumblr man, have you seen the bitches these people are into??

Q: I came from TikTok are you redo’ing any polls?

A: Nope! As long as I didn’t mess up the photo or made the poll one day we aren’t redoing any characters.

Q: I have a friend who you blocked why did you do that?

A: They probably shipped Coralaw, DoffyCora, or some other illegal ass ship, we’re a pornbot, or straight up being racist. Just don’t be fucking weird man and I won’t block you. I love shipping but if your shipping something illegal I’m gonna block you.

Q: Why is Corazon the profile photo?

A: I think he’s hot + idk heart theme kinda fits. And he has some good alts so I can do Halloween and spring themes

Info about OP:

Hello! You can call me Deer/Rafiel (Raffy) /Michael/ or Rosinante!!

I am trans masc and use He/they/it/thing pronouns! Though just He/they is fine too!

I am in my first year of college majoring in creative writing leaning towards video game scrips with a minor in digital art.

This account is run by a DID system and the fictive host Rosinante. Though please do not ask questions about our system due to privacy reasons.

I’m still catching up on the One Piece manga (caught up on the anime), so I apologize if I don’t know the manga characters

Dni:

-Homophobes/transphobes

-Proshippers (fancy way of saying illegal ships)

-Racists

- People telling me how to run my blog

-Coralaw shippers

-Trump supporters

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Eco

Chapter Eleven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Bobby, Bela, Dick Roman and Kobe Bryant mentioned (look, he wasn't supposed to be here but I did my research and well, he had to be), Anael, faceless paps

Word Count: 1683 with pictures

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, tour planning, brunch and shopping with Bela, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

“Okay, well the official schedule from the touring company arrived, so I have maybe a week to set up the promo interviews before they announce it publicly,” you said over the phone.

“Yeah, with Crowley it’s probably gonna be sooner. Annie’s gotta find someone to step in for the whole year with this so she’s already interviewing. Let me know if you need anything, because I’m just sitting on my hands until we’re actually rolling out,” Bobby replied solemnly.

The give me something to do, please, was implied.

“Check with Benny and his boys, I know the label is supplying some guys too, but I trust you to secure the crew and security schedules,” you said as you made another note on your ever increasing list of to do’s.

Two months may have seemed like a long time, but it was the shortest turn around you’d had for a tour since taking over as publicist for Phantom Traveler and you’d be damned if you fucked it up.

“With the holidays coming up, we’ll be in a pinch to get everything nailed down. But all the commotion with Bela and everything, people will be chomping at the bit to get actual news,” you added, staring unfocused at your computer monitor.

“And he’s got that interview coming up you said, just Dean for that one?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I really hope Meg doesn’t eat him alive. But it’s his chance to give his side of things and for people to see where his head is at now.”

“The sassy little brunette, right?”

“The very one.”

“Is it going to be a tit-for-tat thing? Is Cas gonna be next for a tell-all?”

“Bobby, I don’t think Cas would do an interview and talk bad about Dean even if they paid him. He’s moved on.”

“If you say so, Dean didn’t exactly play nice.”

“He must have had hundreds of offers for the dirt since leaving the band. And everything I hear about him now is just about the kid he’s working with and how they’re creating something unique.”

“I just know how that reporter liked him— the last time.”

“I’m sure she’s going in with the bias against Dean here. Time will tell if she can be swayed,” you admitted. “Plus, Dean won't be alone. We made sure there'll be a few of us there to make it easier.”

“To keep him from making a damned fool of himself you mean.”

“Basically.”

Bobby sat on the other end of the line with his gruff silence before continuing, “you going home for Christmas?”

“Yeah, got the usual stuff with my folks for Christmas Eve then I’m helping Ellen on Christmas day. I’m flying so I won’t be gone more than a few days. Probably end up spending half of it at airports with my luck.”

“Okay, just checkin’.”

“You guys have any plans?”

“Just service on the night before and maybe something with Annie’s cousins. Might just be a train of open houses.”

“Wow, I’m impressed.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I’d enjoy myself.”

You laughed and wrapped it up with a promise to touch base before you left town. The next two days were a whirlwind of emails and phone calls. You put off confirming brunch with Bela for Sunday, but relented from guilt, as she now had regular visits from paparazzi outside her townhouse due to her and Dean’s night club-hopping. You finished up your Saturday errands and plopped yourself onto your stationary bike in a last ditch effort to fend off your restlessness until it was a reasonable enough time to crash.

God, your life was so exciting.

Bela poured you another glass from the endless pitcher of mimosas. “Anyway, I guess Dean got us tickets to the Lakers’ game tomorrow night, like I actually care about baseball.”

“Basketball,” you corrected, taking a sip.

“Exactly,” Bela smirked.

“How good are the tickets? He doesn’t really follow it either,” you continued, worried they’d be in an embarrassing section.

“I think he said something about getting the label’s box for the game?” She tried to play innocent.

You almost spit out your drink. “The entire box?”

“It’s not floor seats’ exposure, but it will be worth it at least. I think he said he called in a favor with Dick?”

“Dick Roman is giving Dean access to his exclusive luxury box at the Staples Center?” You were floored, you opened your phone and googled who they were playing. “Holy fuck, they’re retiring Kobe’s number tomorrow. It’s going to be insane. There’s no way that box isn’t gonna be packed, but at least you can bump elbows with the uppity ups.”

“Kobe Bryant, yeah? He was quite prolific,” Bela seemed pleased. 

“Uh, yeah, played his whole career here,” you added, but put your phone away. Unwilling to text Dean a ‘wtf’ text while you still had another hour of drinks and foodstuffs to get through. “What are you going to wear?”

Bela slid her most compelling face on. “I was hoping we could find something together. It’s been ages since we drunk shopped. Plus, it’s the holidays so I will need to be a bit tipsy if I want to deal with the crowds.”

You had literally nothing left to buy for Christmas, but drunk shopping was a time-honored tradition between the two of you. Plus, it was fun watching Bela work her magic and pull a stunning outfit together out of seemingly discordant pieces.

“Three stores and I’m getting my own ride home, missy,” you warned with a firm pointer finger.

“Of course!” Bela chuckled and tucked into her eggs, eyes flitting back to you with conspiratorial delight.

You finished off your mimosa and finally saw to your french toast.

Bela’s driver took you to all of her favorite haunts and naturally she weaseled her way in to see the best stylists, at least those who were actually on hand on the Sunday afternoon before Christmas. At Sister Jo’s boutique, the owner herself greeted Bela with a double cheek kiss and hug. 

“What are you doing here? Wait, don’t tell me, you need an outfit asap because your little rocker boy toy needs arm candy,” the woman, who was actually named Anael, teased.

“You know me too well,” Bela replied. “This is my dear friend, Y/N, and we’re a bit on the tilt from brunch, but I simply had to come see you. I need something casual and sexy. It’s for a basketball game.”

You waved as she nodded in your direction, not wanting to break the momentum.

Anael frowned and looked Bela over, with much consideration. Then she hummed before asking, “how do you feel about hats?”

Nearly two hours and a top off on champagne later (to keep your buzzes going), you and Bela walked out of the shop with a bag each and a receipt ensuring Bela would be back in the morning for the alterations on the remaining garments.  

“Well, I’d say that was a successful outing,” Bela said with pride, the pink in her cheeks the only hint of her lingering inebriation.

“I’d say,” you agreed, opening the back door of her pre-ordered ride. “I still can’t believe they had something that would work for me for New Year’s.”

Bela waited on the curb until she could slide in the other side, but continued your trail of thought. “Anael is good people, if she likes something, she carries it. Doesn’t matter the size or price, she is all about how an outfit makes you feel,” Bela explained.

“Well, it worked, because I just spent more on myself than I have the entire year because of how good it felt on, so I get it,” you said, patting the bag at your feet.

Bela confirmed your address with the driver and then hers, thanking them for going out of their way in a way that she wasn’t actually apologizing for being a burden.

“You got eyes on you lady,” the driver warned, pointing towards the corner where a camera lens was trained on the car.

“Ignore them, they’ll find someone else before they follow us very far,” Bela promised and you could see her almost glaring at the rearview mirror for the driver to get the lead out.

You sat on the couch in your robe and sleep pants, hair still wet and wrapped on top of your head. You had crashed for a late afternoon nap after shopping and had rebounded with a blissfully long shower and skincare treatment. Now you watched mind numbing television and plotted out your schedule for the coming week. Even though it was cut short with holiday travels, it was full-to-bursting with things to get done.

You sighed and dragged out your suitcase from under your bed, dropped it on the couch and unzipped it to start packing. At least you could watch something while you organized. 

Just after ten your phone buzzed with a text message. You ignored it for a minute until you could find the remote beneath your pile of socks and paused your Lord of the Rings rewatch.

You stared at the conversation with the movie still paused, dumbfounded. One, that Dean sent you a goodnight text of all things and secondly that he was going to willingly give Bela his phone to post on social media about them. Because it’s not official until they’re both posting each other, or so they say. This was going to be big for the fan girls. You already knew Becky would be emailing you the second she saw it. But as far as fanclub presidents went, she wasn’t the worst. Then again, she would be more than a little bitter if Sam and Madison were the ones flaunting their relationship.

You put a reminder in your calendar to cover an extra sweep of SM while you were waiting out Dean’s interview Tuesday morning and then you tossed your phone back amongst your clothes. You were done for the night and so you shoved your half-packed suitcase on the floor and restarted the movie.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Twelve: Hook