#it’s not his song and it’s not even really his work on it

[burrowdarling]

Dress

Summary: Joe begs you to join him at an event, where a dress leads to a confession of feelings. Based off of the song "Dress" by Taylor Swift

Pairings: Joe Burrow x best friend to lover!reader

Warnings: implied smut, pining, best friends to lovers

Note: Hi! I hope you're all doing okay, I know this week has been tough and long. I hope this can bring some kind of joy during a hard time. This is my first time writing based off of a song. I would love to turn this into some kind of mini series or maybe interconnected standalones. Let me know your thoughts or song suggestions, I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.9K

“Pleaseeee come with me, you owe me a favor, remember? It’ll be fun I promise”. Joe begged from his spot on the couch.

Joe had invited you out to one of the team dinner gatherings as his date, insisting that you had to come with him or he would be “too bored to function”. You tried not to place too much weight on the “date” part of the deal, knowing it would be more as friends than anything. He was putting on the whole theatrics, pouting with puppy dog eyes.

“You want me to come to the dinner that you’ve been complaining will be ‘so boring’ so I have to suffer too? I don’t hardly see how that’s comparable to the favor you did for me by taking out my recycling for me that you offered to do” you questioned, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as he’s been making it out to be.

“Hey, in my defense it was a lot of boxes to carry okay? You can be my source of entertainment, I won’t be able to survive without that” he explained, falling more into the dramatics as he dropped down onto the couch behind him to really solidify his point, exhaling a big sigh as he did so. 

“I hardly doubt that Joseph, you’re being so dramatic” you said with your arms folded over your chest, not going to fold to his pleading that easy. Turning away from him as you sat across from him.

“I guess you won’t know unless you come with me then, huh” Joe said with a small pout on his lips, knowing it was the surefire way to win you over. In reality, he didn't have to even try. While Joe was your best friend, you’ve had feelings for him for a while now that have only grown with time the closer you two have gotten. Meeting back at LSU, you had so many memories together that have only made your friendship what it is today.

“C’mon, what else will it take for you to agree to go? I’ll do anything Y/N.”

Your heart rate picked up at his comment, needing to will yourself back to reality that there are so many other mundane things he could do to sweeten the deal for you. Thank god you had your back turned, able to give yourself a second to breathe. In all honesty, you would go just to spend more time with him, it was always fun to make him work for it though.

“Fine, but I won’t have anything to wear so you’re fronting my cost for a new dress” you stated turning yourself back towards him, sticking out your hand to signify the offer.

“You could’ve just asked that from the beginning. Deal” Joe agreed, returning your gesture and shaking on the deal.

_______________________________________________

It was finally the day of the dinner, taking the day to get yourself ready with an everything shower and full skincare routine. You made a day of it, pampering yourself after you had gone out to get the perfect dress. It complimented the color of Joe’s suit perfectly, while accentuating all of your favorite parts of yourself. It wasn’t anything too elaborate, but it made you feel confident and that’s what matters. You may or may not have also thought about Joe when picking it out, what he would think about when he saw you in it. You quickly shook the resurfacing thoughts from your mind as you slipped it on, careful not to mess up your look.

While you were applying the finishing touches to your look, your mind wandered to thoughts about yours and Joe’s friendship. You had met during one of his first classes when he transferred to LSU, asking you for directions to his next class. It happened that you were going the same way, offering to show him and the rest was history. On paper, you both were opposites, but that’s almost why you complimented each other so well. You matched one another's energy and could read the other like a book. It almost felt as if you didn't need to speak the thought out loud at times, able to tell what the other was thinking.

You and Joe had been there for each other all throughout college, being a support system and lifeline in the hard times as well as the biggest cheerleader for the highest highs. Through every breakup, Joe was always there to pick up the pieces he didn’t break, comforting you while giving you the praise he felt you deserved. Another thing you wrote off as him just being your best friend. No one wanted to see their best friend sad, so it was natural to want to cheer them up, right?

You were drawn out of your thoughts to the sound of your front door closing, signaling Joe had arrived.

“Hey Y/N, you ready to go?” he called from your living room, making his way through your apartment.

“Just a minute, I’m finishing up and we can head out” you called back, hearing his footsteps get closer as you spoke.

There was a sudden pause as the sound of Joe approaching got closer, turning to see him stopped in your doorway. He leaned his body up against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You look absolutely amazing, I love that we have a matching thing going on” Joe said as he looked you up and down, his gaze taking you in.

 It all felt like too much, turning your attention back to the mirror in front of you.

When you were leaving your apartment to get into his car, Joe placed a gentle hand around your waist to keep you steady in your heels as you walked across the pavement parking lot. Your skin felt like it was ablaze under his touch, finding yourself craving more of it as his hand dropped to get the door for you.

“Thanks” you mumbled, trying to regain your composure back as the night was just beginning.

_______________________________________________

The night drew on, Joe not letting you far out of his reach as he spoke with his teammates and other guests that were there. It felt as if you had a pull to one another, a sense of palpable tension between you in the air. Joe seemed to be a lot touchier than usual, tending to keep you close when one of his teammates would get a bit too close for what must have been his liking. It all felt like too good to be true, that he must have really wanted you near him

There was only what you could describe as a Joe shaped indentation in your life, making any man incomparable to the standard he set for you without even knowing. So many guys in the past few years have tried to take their shot with you, but you never let any of them get too feeling like they were missing something that you were looking for. Even the ones that did ended up breaking your heart, leaving you feeling a deeper hollow pit than before them. 

He was so close to you at the table, you could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of his body that was clad so nicely in his suit, his arm slung protectively over the back of your chair as if he was staking his claim over you. It was taking so much willpower to not just lean over and say the most unspeakable things to him. To finally confess everything you’ve been feeling, wondering if he felt the same or if it would be a waste of time and ruin everything you created together.

In this moment, it felt like just the two were the only ones despite the room being so crowded with other guests. You leaned over, placing a delicate hand on Joe's thigh to test his reaction. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, close enough to hear his breath hitch in his throat. All signs were pointing in the right direction.

“Y/N” Joe said, his voice labored and breathy.

The way he says your name, stopping you in your tracks, short circuiting your mind for a moment. That was the kind of power he had over you, the ability to completely send your senses into overdrive without even realizing he was doing so. You tried your best to shut your mind off, taking the opportunity to tell him while you had the courage to do so.

“I don’t want you like a best friend” you spoke, voice keeping composure while trying to keep yourself from backing out.

Joe’s eyes closed as his head subtly dropped back against his chair. A quiet groan coming from his throat online loud enough for your ears only.

You leaned closer to his ear, keeping your body language as natural as possible with everything you’re feeling. Noticing how he was reacting to your words and proximity.

“I only bought this dress so you could take it off” your confidence shifting with a hint of seduction in your voice, sealing your fate to ending your friendship or starting a new chapter.

That seemed like the last straw for his own composure, not being able to contain his own building desire. Joe turned to look towards you, his gaze darkening from your confession, your grip tightening on his thigh as he tried to process the moment.

Without speaking, Joe stood from the table of his teammates and began gathering his things as he silently gestured for you to do the same. 

“I think we’re gonna get going guys, Y/N isn’t feeling too well so I’m gonna bring her home” Joe said casually, holding out a hand for you to take.

Everyone said their goodbyes and wished you well. The minute you were out of the vicinity from everyone, Joe heaved you over his shoulder and began to hustle towards the car.

“JOE” you yelped followed by a light chuckle, caught off guard by his actions.

He didn’t reply until he got you to the car, dropping you carefully to your feet and pressed your back against the car door.

He leaned close to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine as he spoke “you have no idea how long I've wanted you. First, I'm gonna get you home and we're gonna get you out of this dress so I can do all of the things I’ve only ever dreamt of doing to you. Then we can talk about where we want to go from here, but I sure as shit don’t want to go back to just being friends. Does that work for you, sweetheart?” 

You didn’t trust your voice in that moment, not knowing if words would come out if you tried and opted for a firm nod.

He backed away from the car, bringing you towards him so he could open the door for you.

“Get in mamas and buckle up, because once we get home, you’re in for a ride” closing the door before you could give him a response.

You were about to be in for a night you didn’t expect, but one that would change everything for the best.

Thank you so much for reading, please send in any requests or comments. I hope you enjoyed!

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Every single member of the Batfamily lies about their taste in music

Damian will claim that he only listens to classical music and that everything else is beneath him.

Damian will unironically listen to trashy Arab pop and the absolute worst Bollywood songs known to man (Dick introduced him to them and he hates the fact that sometimes he gets Sheila Ki Jawani stuck in his head during missions)

Tim will put on the most ear grating hyper pop you've ever heard and claim with full chest that these is the peak of humanities capabilities with music (Damian, Jason and Steph have all tried to kill him for this take) He will also play stuff like the living tombstones and sing it obnoxiously loud when he's working on the computer.

Tim however loves his 90s grunge and it's all that's playing in his headphones. (think nirvana, pearl Jam, Melvins, Alice in Chains etc) He has tracked down so many shirts and concert posters and watched every bit of content from the older shows.

Jason will claim he only listens to east coast rap, biggie, Nas, Jay etc and maybe some older metal. He will fight you on east vs west coast music, there will be weaponry involved.

Jason likes rap music... he unfortunately prefers west coast rap and has listened to no vaseline like 500 times. He will deny this till the day he dies...again. (Dick knows and threatens to tell Steph)

Steph will steal the aux and play Taylor Swifts greatest hits until one of the Boys threatens mutiny. Every single one of the bats has had style stuck in their heads during a stakeout at least twice. She will claim that the only rap song she can tolerate in Eminem and the 7/11 is Beyoncés best song.

Steph is an underground fan, think the dude selling mixtapes on the subway type shit. She also unlike Jason genuinely loves East Coast Rap music more than anything and knows every single wu-tang clan song by heart, same with Biggie. Not only does she love the music she also spends any free time binging those "history of rap and its consequences" videos and has been a firm believer that P.Diddy had a hand in a lot of the Death row records well...deaths.

Cass, well everyone thinks Cass has really good taste bc its Cass and she has zero flaws (don't @ me) she never takes the aux and will usually listen to her music while she's chilling or doing stretches. None of them have heard or seen a single one of her playlists except Duke.

its all 2010s top 40s pop music and like the trashy kind too, Beauty and the Beat, Kesha, Katy Perry. It's her turning of her brain time and she will be straight vibing to Rude! by magic or Boom Clap or Shower. she has shown this to Duke, smirked and told him that even if he tried to tell anyone they wouldn't believe him.

Duke is the only one who doesn't... lie. He just hides a few things. Lies of omission don't count as lies when the bats will lie to you about what they had for breakfast, while they are visibly eating breakfast. Duke says he listens to everything and he does. Literally everything. His patrol Jam is offensive bc it with start with Norwegian death metal and immediately switches to "like a G6" followed by kendrick Lamar and then descendants Disney channel movie music.

Bruce... Bruce is just weird, everyone asks him and gets a different answer. Bc he doesn't... like music. Like at all. It's all noise, his mother played instruments so he learned like 14 and he hates how they all sound. He just like vague batwings fluttering in dead silence.

Dick Grayson will obnoxiously play top 40 and radio music religiously around the bats. He claims it's the best music for rhythmic acrobatics and trapeze work and that true! Jason hates this kind of music the most, it's formulaic and holds no substance and drives him insane.

But Dick only listens to that music when he's moving, flipping doing high energy stuff. When he just wants to chill? This man has the most depressing music taste you've ever seen. You know that sad song from ur favorite artist that you can't listen to without crying. Yeah that's his bread and butter. Every single song is just flat out tear inducing, some of these bands have like 100 listeners and he is one of them and it's just their saddest song that reads like suicide note. The titans have conducted an intervention bc its just... concerning. He just thinks it's neat!

[meliciousmel13]

➛ my girl

it was friday. and you were washing the dishes. billie urged you to just get a cleaning service to do the job but you always shook it away. you already didn’t do anything, plus cleaning gave you a sense of peace. but you back was hurting, and your hands were turning soft.

there was a soft creaking sound of the front door opening and billie’s voice echoed through the house, “i’m home!” billie said, with a sing-song voice, you’ve never been happier to see her.

grinning, you put down the dishes, walking towards her and trying to ignore the burning feeling at the sole of your feet, “hi,” you smile, hugging her and wrapping your hands around her neck, she dropped the bags she was holding to the floor and hugged you by the waist.

“hi baby,” she sighed, enjoying your warm presence, “hows my babygirl?” she pulled away, holding your hips and getting on her knees to kiss your stomach. you almost felt shy, she never failed to give you butterfly's.

“she’s doing good too,” you said, holding her shoulders while she looked up at you with her mesmerizing eyes, “now get up, your knees are already fucked your going to ruin them more.” billie laughed, getting up and holding the wall for help.

“how is my beautiful wife? she doin’ alright?”

“i’m fine,” you hugged her again, “just a little tired.” you didn’t know why. you had nothing to be tired about. you felt guilty, almost. like you didn’t have the right.

“but your more tired so-”

billie interrupted you, “don’t do that.” she held your face in her hands, kissed you, and you felt cared for, you always felt like that with her.

“it’s true,” you mumble, looking anywhere but her eyes.

“no it’s not.” she sighed, and you wondered if you were too much. she held your thighs and urged you to jump, “does your back hurt again?” she said, and you nodded as she carried you to your shared bedroom.

“you want a massage angel?” you wanted it, really really did. but the thought of billie having to do this right after she came back from work made you feel bad. she just steped in the house expecting to lay down and relax but she had to take care of you again.

“no,” you said, after she laid you down.

“so yeah?” it was annoying how well she knew you, “don’t be afraid to say yes, baby. i’m not tired, i promise.” you didn’t believe her, you saw the way her calloused hands shook, but for once you wanted to believe her.

“why are you doing this." you sighed, as she massaged your feet.

“because your my girl.”

too lazy to add anything ngl, just a lil blurb if you even call it that.

taglist:@chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon

[hunieday]

Momo - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Yuki: Thanks for your hard work

Yuki: Anyone here?

Okazaki Rinto: You’re early, Yuki-kun!? I’m here!

Yuki: Okarin, you’re online. Yuki here

Okazaki Rinto: Yeah, I know. There’s still time before the interview though...

Yuki: That’s true, but today’s an important interview day and I finished composing, so I thought I’d camp here early.

Okazaki Rinto: How wonderful. Momo-kun will be thrilled when he reads this!

Yuki: Yeah, who’s the star of the show today after all? Are you at the recording booth with him?

Okazaki Rinto: Actually, the recording ran longer than scheduled so Momo-kun should be back to the dressing room right around the interview time!

Yuki: Is that so. So it’s just the two of us for now.

Yuki: So what should we talk about until he’s back. Shall we have a competition to list what we find the cutest about Momo?

Okazaki Rinto: There’s no way I’m winning that. Let’s talk about what we like about you instead!

Yuki: Are you doing a bit

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun himself actually suggested it. He said "There’s a chance I’m gonna be late, you two can just talk about how super handsome Yuki is!"

Yuki: We thought the same thing.

Okazaki Rinto: I’ll start with my opinion! You used to say you weren’t good with people, but now you’re so approachable it’s amazing!

Yuki: Thanks. Do I have to say something too?

Yuki: I can write music

Okazaki Rinto: Next! I also think you’re an incredible actor. I feel so proud seeing you soar even beyond the idol world!

Yuki: Thank you. More new rivals keep popping up, so I can’t slack off anymore.

Yuki: Now’s my turn

Yuki: Now I’m out

Okazaki Rinto: That’s it!?

Yuki: That’s it

Momo: You barely scratched the surface!?!?!?

Yuki: Here comes Momo

Momo: Here comes Momo-chan!! Sorry for making you two wait 🥺🥺 I couldn’t stop smiling reading all the rabbichat notifications 🥰

Momo: But really, just three or four points don’t even compare in the sea of Yuki’s charm!?!?!?!? Like, his beauty mark is beyond handsome, the way he looks at me with such intensity makes me fall in love all over again. He’s so beautiful from the tip of his fingers to every strand of his hair?!?!?!?

Momo: And the way he calls me his “precious partner” is just too handsome…!!!

Yuki: You type really fast, Momo.

Momo: Lightning fast!!!!!

Yuki: I appreciate you saying all that, but today is all about you, Momo.

Momo: That’s trueee~

Momo: You’re gonna share,,,, what feelings you poured into producing my project right,,,,,,,,

Momo: aaaaaaaaaghhh can my heart even handle this ‼ Yuki, Okarin, please take it easy on me ‼

Yuki: I’ll be gentle.

Okazaki Rinto: Let’s get started! As requested, we’re aiming for a casual, relaxed vibe for this interview, as if you’re not even working. So we decided to do it over rabbichat!

Okazaki Rinto: First off, Momo-kun! Please tell us how you felt when you found out Yuki-kun’s gonna produce your song!

Momo: Hmm...he usually composes for Re:vale as a whole, but he did it just for me this time. To think that he created not just the song but also the lyrics, costumes, and the whole concept...I feel so lucky it’s almost too much to believe.

Momo: The person I’ve admired for so long brings me so much happiness now. I want to take that a hundred, a thousand times and deliver it back to all my fans.

Momo: Wait a sec is this real? I’m not dreaming, right?

Okazaki Rinto: Don’t pinch your cheeks so hard, Momo-kun!

Yuki: It’s real, Momo.

Momo: It is...

Momo: This is so special to me that it always felt like a dream! I mean, just singing with Yuki already makes me so happy, but I didn’t know there was even a possibility to ascend to another level of happiness.

Yuki: I’m just as grateful for the opportunity to focus on a project entirely for you, Momo.

Momo: Yukiiiiii~

Momo: Wait a sec, how come my darling is the most handsome guy in the world !?!? 😭😭😭

Yuki: I know. So what did you think when you heard the song?

Momo: It was so cool... I thought it’d be more cutesy

Momo: But it was completely different! And it has this super stylish dance number, I could picture us dancing together the moment I listened to the airy melody.

Momo: Even though we sing in a high pitch, the deep bass was so powerful, I love it soooooooo much…

Yuki: I’m happy

Yuki: I wanted to capture all your different sides

Okazaki Rinto: Interesting…! I’d love to hear more about your creative process!

Yuki: You could say it’s about Momo’s “switches”, in a way. A switch for when he’s singing, when he’s performing.

Yuki: A switch for when he’s pressing close to my side, thinking about lyrics to write. Working earnestly and wholeheartedly.

Yuki: They’re all different switches within Momo. It all shifts. The gap between them all is intriguing.

Momo: My “switches” huh... So that’s how you see me. 

Momo: You’re right though, I do change depending on the person or situation without even realizing. The gap between the melody and the high pitch reflect that.

Momo: And the electronic sounds are supposed to represent little switches, right? That’s just like you, it’s fascinating!!!!

Yuki: Thank you. It was challenging since I wasn’t allowed to compose the entire thing myself, but it was worth it.

Momo: And the lyrics moved me deeply. I could feel your message of wanting to face the future together, and to keep singing for an eternity and beyond.

Yuki: That’s right. This song is for you, who pulled me forward and shone your light upon me that day.

Momo: That’s because

Momo: Yuki’s music gave me the push I needed back then

Momo: So that’s why I

Yuki: Momo. You always say you’re thankful to me but

Yuki: "Beneath the countless stars, I can reach anywhere as long as I’m with you." Being with you lets me sing anywhere, Momo.

Yuki: Just like that day we sang together on the sandy beach of a deserted island, the place where you and I sing, the place where Re:vale is, will always be the best stage ever. (1)

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun’s crying.

Yuki: Don’t shed tears when I can’t be with you to wipe them.

Momo: Wh

Momo: Whoa stop stop stop stop hold up wasn’t that way too smooth?!?! That line was so hot my tears stopped on their own!?

Yuki: Hello, it’s me, the handsome Yuki.

Momo: Kyaaaa!! Please look my wayyy!! 🤩✨

Yuki: Yep. I’m looking straight at my phone.

Momo: lolololol thanks! I totally feel your eyes on me 🤩✨

Okazaki Rinto: Alright, I’m sorry but let’s get back on track. I’d love to hear about the concept behind your outfits and promo shoots!

Momo: I’m so excited to hear about it! I was hyped the moment I walked into the room for the photoshoot! It looked exactly like a gaming room 🎮

Yuki: The song doesn’t fit an outdoor setting. I felt like even indoors would still be too bright, so I went for a moody, neon-lit setup the moment I found out something like that existed.

Yuki: It was perfect for Momo since he loves gaming, but the gentle neon light reflecting in the dark felt especially very Momo-like to me

Momo: I’m so happy!!!! I really do love those kinds of lights toooo~~ I see how it is, hehe~~~~

Okazaki Rinto: Yuki-kun, your idea of what “feels Momo-like” is always very diverse.

Yuki: Is it? I think it’s normal

Momo: And don’t forget the outfits, I loved them so much >u< Yuki doesn’t usually wear clothes in that style so I snapped a ton of photos of him!

Yuki: I thought we might as well embrace the Momo vibe for this shoot too. We even took tons of pictures together.

Momo: Yup! We were dressed like Player 1 and Player 2! 🪄

Yuki: It's been fun trying a style I don’t normally wear

Momo: You looked amazing!! 😍 💚 Why don’t you start wearing clothes like that more often?!

Yuki: Then how about we try some different combinations next time? (2) 

Momo: Huh?! W-w-ww-w-ww-we don’t have to go that far!!!!!!!!!???

Yuki: Why not? Matching outfits always have a wide variety

Momo: Huh!!!!!!!!!! Okarin !!!!!!!! What do I do !!!!!!!! Work is one thing, but a private setting is totally different?!?!?!?!?!

Okazaki Rinto: I find it funny that you’re typing what you’re muttering in real life, LOL.

Yuki: How nice. I wanna be there too

Momo: You have work after this right? so Momo-chan will wait for you to finish!!

Yuki: Yeah. Thank you

Okazaki Rinto: The request was to make this a more relaxed conversation, but you might be a bit too relaxed right now, or maybe you’re just acting like you always are….

Yuki: Is that a problem? It’s fine, right, Momo?

Momo: Right, Yuki! 🫶

Okazaki Rinto: That’s right! It’s totally fine! And finally, please share a message for the fans!

Yuki: This new direction may surprise some fans, but from where I stand, Momo is strong, gentle, and full of warmth. Just like a sunrise that blends the dark and light, he’s a mix of many wonderful qualities.

Yuki: That’s why the song plays tricks with a variety of rhythms, melodies and singing tones. They reflect Momo’s ever-changing expressions. I hope you enjoy “Get in the Groove.”

Momo: I always spend every day thinking about how happy I am ever since Yuki and I became Re:vale. Sometimes so much so that I wish time could stop.

Momo: But you know, listening to “Get in the Groove” made me feel even happier! I know this project was born all thanks to our fans’ unwavering support. Thank you so much!!! I feel like the happiest person alive right now!

Momo: And that’s why I want everyone who supports us to feel as happy as I do, always and forever! I hope that you never get your feelings hurt! And if sadness ever comes your way, I hope our songs will be able to heal you!

Momo: Re:vale will always be a warm light, shining on everyone like the sun that rises each morning. Now and forever, with Yuki by my side!

Momo: That’s all I got!

Okazaki Rinto: Thank you both! This was Re:vale in full force!

Momo: Yup! I feel Yuki’s love overflowing more than usual 🥹❤

Yuki: Really? I’m not really good with words

Momo: Well no, you’ve gotten dangerously much better at that recently!!??!!!

Okazaki Rinto: It’s hard to believe you once had to practice saying stuff like this.

Yuki: Yeah, that sure did happen.

Yuki: Momo, promise me you’ll keep smiling by my side now and forever

Momo: Yeah. I promise!!

For those who are confused, the sandy beach of a deserted island refers to a specific plot point in part 5 of the main story.

I. am frankly not entirely sure how to interpret this. Because judging by Momo’s reaction I believe Yuki was Most Definitely Not insinuating an actual change of color combinations but. A Different Kind of “combinations”. 

[hotshotsxyz]

heart is beating heavily

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1k) several people asked for more of this town is only gonna eat you so this is that. unfortunately i am still feeling evil, so please enjoy buck's pov of the same events :) btw the title of both of these fics comes from the song bloody shirt by to kill a king, which i played on repeat while writing these cw: mass shooting / gun violence

Buck’s breath leaves him in a sharp exhale when he hits the ground. It hurts, but not—not where it should. His chest, his back, they’re on fire. His head, though, as violently as he was thrown to the ground, never makes contact with the cement.

The only thing he can see now is Eddie. Eddie, hovering above him, eyes wild. He looks—cornered. Trapped. Only he’s the one pressing Buck into the sticky floor of the arena, not the other way around, and he doesn’t understand why.

“Eds,” he tries to say, but it comes out as more of a croak.

Eddie shakes his head sharply, almost—

Panicked.

Buck takes a breath and it hurts. His thoughts feel sluggish in a way they never really are. He tries to take stock of what he knows anyway.

His body is screaming in pain.

Eddie is afraid. (Why is Eddie afraid? What could possibly—)

They’re on the floor. (Eddie pushed him to the floor. Why would he—)

The space around them is filled with a cacophonous noise that Buck can’t quite identify.

Pain. Fear. Sharp popping noises that make Buck’s ears hurt, and—

Screaming.

Oh.

Buck presses his lips together and tips his chin toward his chest in an approximation of a nod. Eddie exhales, warm against his cheek. His face does something complicated, and then—

I’m sorry, Eddie mouths, and before Buck can figure out what for, white hot pain lances through his chest.

In his mind he screams.

In reality, he bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. They’re in danger, and he won’t—As long as he’s still breathing, Eddie won’t leave him here. Even if he should. He won’t protect himself, won’t run, won’t hide. The least Buck can do is keep from drawing attention toward them, but in the moment, it feels like the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“—so good,” Eddie breathes into his ear. “I got you; I promise.”

Buck wants to believe that almost as much as he wishes Eddie would just save himself. Every breath he takes is harder than the one before, though, and it occurs to him that soon, he might draw his last. If he has to die, Eddie’s face is a pretty incredible last thing to see. He just wishes it wasn’t twisted in pain and fear.

It takes a minute for Buck to catch up with his own thoughts. Pain. That’s—he’s seen it in Eddie’s expression enough times to know it intimately. Why is he in pain? Eddie presses his cheek to Buck’s before he can interrogate the expression further.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay? You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The scrape of Eddie’s jaw against his sends something like a shiver down Buck’s spine. There’s something—something important, but—it feels just out of reach.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—I just need you to hold on,” Eddie whispers, quietly wrecked.

He’s trying. God is he trying. But it’s—every breath feels like pulling fire into his lungs. With every exhale, he feels a tiny bit weaker, a tiny bit worse. Eddie pulls away slightly, and Buck feels the absence like a missing rib.

“Hear that?” Eddie asks, brushing a thumb across Buck’s cheekbone.

He doesn’t—he doesn’t hear anything other than Eddie, but he’s not sure he wants to.

“We’re so close, Buck.”

Something settles in his chest at the sound of his name on Eddie’s lips, louder than before, drenched in something that sounds like relief. He blinks once, twice, slow and heavy.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says sharply. And—oh, when did he get so far away?

Eddie pulls the hem of his shirt to his teeth and—oh god. That’s not Buck’s blood. He’s—Eddie’s hurt too, but Buck can’t make his mouth work, can’t even keep his eyes open long enough to—

“No!” Eddie commands. A new pain accompanies his voice. “You’re staying right here with me, got it?”

He has to—has to tell Eddie—he doesn’t—

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie says, eyes shining.

A lump forms in his throat.

“Just keep—c’mon Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

He does. He does have to be okay because Eddie’s not and he’s acting like he doesn’t even know.

“Hurt,” Buck forces out.

“I know,” Eddie says, but he doesn’t! “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

Buck lets out a frustrated groan. He tries to shake his head, and when that fails, to lift his hand to Eddie’s abdomen.

Eddie turns away from him, and if Buck could scream now, he would.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

No! No he can’t! Buck tries to tell him again, tries to force anything through his lips that Eddie will understand. You’re—“hurt,” he manages again. He can’t even lift his hand now. He’s dying and he’s going to take Eddie with him.

Eddie says something he can’t parse, and suddenly he’s moving, being lifted dizzyingly high off the ground. He sees—

A body. A swarm of cops. Uniformed paramedics and EMTs running in every direction imaginable.

One of them, he just needs one of them to look at Eddie. He just needs one of them to see. He’s still walking, still talking. He still has time.

Eddie drops him onto what must be a gurney, and immediately it begins to roll. Buck allows his head to loll away from Eddie and towards—

An EMT! She can—she can do something. She can—

She’s not looking at him.

She’s not looking at Eddie either. She’s looking straight ahead and under any other circumstances Buck would compliment her for her pragmatic understanding of the urgency of the situation. But she’s walking too fast and Eddie’s beginning to stumble.

“Diaz, is that—�� Yes, yes! Someone sees him. Someone else knows—

“—were you shot?”

Buck gets his head around just in time to watch Eddie collapse into the arms of a firefighter he doesn’t recognize.

He wants to scream, to sob, to thrash against the restraints keeping him on the gurney. He wants to—

Wants to—

Needs—

Eddie.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Jus In Bello | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: yay arrests, canon violence, canon gore, henriksen being lowkey bigoted, mentions of smut (MDNI, 18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 6043

A/N: my american readers, i know we are all mourning this week. i hope that this brightens your day a bit. i love you all!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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Somewhere in Colorado, you and the Winchesters managed to track Bela down to a hotel. You rushed in with your gun stowed in your jacket and were surprised to find no one. Confused, you searched through drawers hoping to find the Colt instead. 

“Any sign of it?” Dean whispered commandingly. 

“No,” you replied. “This is definitely her room, though.” You held up three wigs from the dresser. 

Suddenly, the phone in the room rang. You shared a confused look with Sam and Dean. You picked the phone up trepidatiously, and didn’t say a word into it. 

“(Y/N)? Sweetie, are you there?”

“Bela,” you hissed. “Where are you?”

“Two states away by now.”

“Where?” you snarled. 

“Where’s our usual quippy banter? I miss it,” she sing-songed. 

“I want it back, Bela. Now.”

“Your little pistol, you mean?” she tsked. “Sorry, I can’t at the moment.”

“You understand how many people are gonna die if you do this?” you argued. 

“What exactly is it that you think I plan to do with it?” she scoffed. 

“Uh, I don’t know, take our only weapon against an army of demons and sell it to the highest bidder?” you remarked. 

“You know nothing about me,” she replied bitingly. 

“I know I’ll stop you,” you said evenly. 

“Tough words for a gal who can’t even find me.”

“I’ll find you, I swear to god. Because I have absolutely nothing better to do than hunt you down and kill you,” you said. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re about to be quite occupied.” Her words had a sinking feeling forming in your stomach. “Did you really think I wouldn’t take precautions?”

Suddenly, police officers burst into the room and pointed guns at you and the Winchesters. Immediately, you put your hands above your head and dropped the phone. 

“Hands in the air!” an officer shouted. “Down on your knees.”

“That bitch,” Dean growled from his position on the floor beside you. 

The officers forced you down onto the ground with your hands behind your back. When the officers repeated your Miranda rights, though, you noticed Bela had only given your first name. Thankfully, your full identity was still concealed. 

Though, that momentary relief quickly dissipated when you heard the voice of the man you’d spoken to on the phone of that bank in the shapeshifter case.

“Hi, guys,” Henriksen said. “It’s been a while.”

You watched Dean lay his head down on the floor beside you in defeat. 

***

Stoicism had always been your forte when it came to run-ins with the police. Dean, however, was as quippy and defensive as ever. You loved him more than anything, but that was definitely not going to work in your favor in this situation. 

Dean and Sam were shackled together and brought into the police station first. Meanwhile, one guard stayed with you in the police car. Unfortunately, you were frisked upon your arrest, and anything you had to help you get out of your cuffs were now unavailable to you. 

One other guard returned and led you into the police station. You cut your eyes at the secretary clutching a rosary and cowering in fear while she muttered what you assumed to be a prayer. You smirked at the irony of the situation. 

You were then thrown into the cell across from Sam and Dean; the only two cells in the entire station. You remained silent, not even talking to Sam and Dean. Your anxiety was quickly getting the better of you. No matter what escape plan you tried to think of, you knew it was a lost cause. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Dean called from across the hall. 

You kept your eyes at the ground. 

Then, the sound of footsteps you attributed to Henriksen approached. He stopped between the two cells, pacing around and addressing the three of you. “You know what I’m trying to decide?”

“I don’t know—”

‘Don’t do it, Dean,’ you thought. 

“What?” your partner continued to remark. “Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?”

“What to have for dinner tonight.” Henriksen clearly had no time for Dean’s comments today. “Steak or lobster, what the hell, surf and turf. I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you three in chains…”

“You kinky son of a bitch. We don’t swing that way,” Dean sneered. 

“Now, that’s funny.” 

“You know, I wouldn’t bust out the melted butter just yet,” Dean continued. “Couldn’t catch us at the bank, couldn’t keep us in that jail.”

“You’re right. Fucked up,” Henriksen nodded. “I underestimated you. I didn’t count on you being that smart, but now, I’m ready.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, ready to lose us again?”

“Ready like a court order to keep you in a supermaximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell, so that between you and me… probably unconstitutional.”

Your stomach flipped again at his words. 

“How’s that for ready?” Henriksen smiled. “Take a good look at Sam and— oh, nice to meet you, (Y/N)— you three will never see each other again.”

You felt like you could throw up. 

“Aw,” the officer mocked. “Where’s that smug smile, Dean? I want to see it.”

Dean shook his head in disbelief. “You got the wrong guys.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot. You fight monsters. Sorry, Dean. Truth is, your daddy brainwashed you with all that devil talk, and no doubt, touched you in a bad place.”

‘Oh, fuck. C’mon, Dean, don’t do it,’ you silently begged. 

“That’s all. That’s reality,” Henriksen finished. 

“Why don’t you shut your mouth?” Dean spat through his teeth. 

“Well, guess what. Life sucks. Get a helmet. ‘Cause everybody’s got a sob story. But not everybody becomes a killer,” the officer pushed back. “And now I have three less to worry about. But what I’m curious about…” Henriksen turned to you. “What happened to you, (Y/N)? What’s your sob story?”

You stared up at him through your eyebrows angrily. 

“What, you met these two on the road somewhere? They convince you of this Satanist crap? Then what, you start givin’ it up to one of ‘em?”

“You shut your mouth now, Henriksen,” Dean roared. 

“Hmm,” the officer hummed. “I’m guessing it was Dean. I almost feel sorry for you. But I gotta tell you, that’s not your only issue, here. It took a while, but I figured you out. You an immigrant? ‘Cause you’re undocumented. Where you from? So I can send your ass back wherever you came from, and they can deal with you as they see fit.”

You still did not respond to him despite the rage and panic bubbling just below the surface. 

Henriksen seemed to get bored and look down at his watch. “Ah, well. It’s surf and turf time.” He laughed coldly and walked away from you. 

“(Y/N), you okay?” Dean asked, reflex seeming to have him pulling on the chains attached to his brother to try and get to you. 

You nodded.

“So, this is how it ends, huh?” Dean tried to remark. 

“No, Dean,” you murmured quietly. “We’ll figure something out.” After the “Mystery Spot” ordeal, you just wanted to spend some time with Dean taking a quiet case or finding Bela. This was not how you would’ve chosen for his last three months to go. You couldn’t believe this was going to be your fate.

Your anxiety was quickly getting the better of you, and you wanted nothing more than to be in the cell with Sam and Dean just for some form of comfort. 

Instead, you were isolated from them. You were feeling more and more isolated from both Winchesters lately. Maybe not physically but mentally. Mentally, you were just living in fear of the day that Dean left you. You were scared of what you were going to become after his death, especially after what the trickster told you. 

A man entering the cells from the office area caught your attention. He closed the heavy door behind him. “Sam and Dean Winchester. And Ms. (Y/N). I’m Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure.”

“Well, glad one of us feels that way,” Dean sneered. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for you three to come out of the woodwork.” Suddenly, Steven spun around and shot at you, hitting you in the left shoulder. You shrieked in pain. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean and Sam yelled. 

You fell back to the ground and scrambled around the cell trying to get away from the shots the man was firing. 

Sam must have realized the man was possessed and began the exorcism ritual, making Steven’s head whip from side to side. He stopped firing, thankfully. “Sorry, I've gotta cut this short. It’s gonna be a long night, fellas.” Then, the familiar black smoke shot out of Steven’s body, and the man screamed. 

Henriksen and two other officers burst through the door. 

“What the hell was that?” one officer asked. 

“Put the gun down!” another commanded.

“He shot him!” 

Sam froze, still holding the gun. “I didn’t shoot him, okay. I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“He shot me!” you squeaked pointing to the man on the ground. You rolled toward the cold cement floor holding your left shoulder with the opposite arm. 

“Get on your knees, now!” Henriksen ordered. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Sam mollified. “Don’t shoot. Please. Look. Here.” He passed the gun through the bars. “Look. We didn’t shoot him. Check the body. There’s no blood. We did not kill him. Go ahead, check him.”

One officer stooped to check Steven’s body. “Vic, there’s no bullet wound.”

“He’s probably been dead for months,” Dean explained. “What did you do to him?” Henriksen demanded. 

“We didn’t do anything,” Dean responded. 

“Talk or I shoot!”

“You won’t believe us.”

“He was possessed,” Sam began. 

“Possessed? Right,” the agent laughed coldly. “Fire up the chopper! We’re taking them out of here now.”

“Yeah! Do that!” Dean threw his hands up as best he could in his cuffs in exasperation. 

“Bill?” there was static on the other end of the radio in one officer’s hands. “Bill, are you there?” There was no answer. 

Henriksen nodded for the man to go check outside. 

The three other officers stood with their guns pointed at each of you. 

You continued to writhe, the bullet wound in your shoulder making the entire left side of your torso hurt, waves of heat emanating from the hole in both sides of your shoulder. 

“Could somebody help her for fuck’s sake?!” Dean grunted.

“They’re dead,” you heard the radio in an officer’s belt say. “I think they’re all dead.” His voice was cut off with a loud scream. 

Henriksen grabbed the radio. “What the hell was that? Reidy? Reidy?! Come in? Reidy? Reidy?”

Henriksen never got a response. He and the other officers left trying to help the one who was likely dead by now.

You started trying to shove the jacket around your body into your wound as best you could with the limited amount of fabric and range of motion due to the cuffs around your wrists. Then, you noticed a roll of toilet paper atop the metal toilet in the corner.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Dean asked. 

You laughed through your pain as you crawled toward the toilet. 

“I know, I know, stupid question. I wanna come help you. I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault,” you hissed through your teeth, trying to keep pressure on the wound with the toilet paper. 

Then, the lights in the prison went off. 

Dean looked up at the ceiling. “Oh, that can’t be good.”

“Nope,” you groaned. “Fuck, man, what the fuck. What is wrong with our lives?”

Both brothers chuckled. 

Henriksen came back into the cell area. “What’s the plan? Kill everyone in the station, bust you three out?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean shot back. 

“I’m talking about your psycho friends. I’m talking about a blood bath,” Henriksen pressed. 

“Um, evidently, they’re not here to help us,” you groaned, motioning to the bullet wound in your shoulder. 

“She speaks,” Henriksen droned. 

“Look, you got to believe us,” Sam begged. “Everyone here is in terrible danger.”

“You think?”

“Why don’t you let us out of here so we can save your asses?” Dean begged. 

“From what? You gonna say ‘demons’?” He raised his gun, pointing it at the ceiling. “Don’t you dare say ‘demons’. Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me.” Then, he left. 

“How’s the shoulder?” Sam asked you. 

You took a pad of toilet paper with a large blood stain on it away from your shoulder. “I’ll live,” you shrugged. 

“Y’know, if we get out of here alive,” Dean added. 

“Right. So you got a plan?” you asked the brothers. 

Just then, you noticed the secretary peeking around a corner outside your cells. 

“Hey,” you said to her. 

Nancy backed off immediately, scared. 

“Hey, Nancy,” Dean said. “Look, my girl’s been shot real bad. Can you— Can you get her a towel, or something? Just one clean towel, okay?”

Nancy looked unsure. 

“Please, I’m beggin’ you here. Trust me, I don’t do that often,” Dean told her, trying to get her to open up a little. “Look. Look at us. We’re not the bad guys. I swear.” He gave her a smile, and Nancy shuffled away. 

You deflated. “Nice try,” you told Dean. “Thank you.” Your eyes sank to the ground, and then, movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

It was Nancy, who was back with a towel. 

“Thank you,” you smiled gratefully. 

“Thanks, Nancy,” said Dean. 

Nancy backed away from you when she’d given you your towel. Suddenly, Sam grabbed her from behind and pulled her against the bars. 

Nancy screamed, and an officer came in with a rifle.

“Let her go!” the officer demanded. “Let her go!”

Sam let Nancy go, and she left horrified. 

“You’re okay, Nance?” the officer asked her.

She nodded. 

The officer turned his attention back to Sam. “Try something again, get shot. And not in the arm.”

“Okay,” said Sam. 

“What the fuck was that?” Dean questioned, upset. 

Sam held up Nancy’s rosary. 

You snorted out a giggle. 

***

The towel was helpful, but not as helpful as some stitches, a clean bandage, and some antiseptic would be. 

“We’re like sitting ducks in here,” said Sam.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know. Would it kill these cops to bring us a snack?!” he shouted out his last words.

“Always thinkin’ with your stomach,” you snorted. 

Dean gave you a playful glare. 

“How many you figure are out there?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “But they could be possessing anyone. Anyone could just walk right in, and we’d have no idea.”

“It's kind of wild, right? I mean, it’s like they’re coming for us. They’ve never done that before.” Dean smiled suddenly. “It’s like we got a contract on us. Think it’s because we’re so awesome? I think it’s ‘cause we’re so awesome.” 

You and Sam rolled your eyes. 

A sheriff entered and unlocked your cell.

“Well, howdy, there, sheriff,” Dean said to the officer. 

You stood, immediately uncomfortable and alert. “Uh, sheriff?”

“It’s time to go, darlin’,” he said monotonously. 

You backed up into the cell. “Uh, I’m okay! I’m comfy right here. Thanks, though.”

Henriksen suddenly appeared. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re not just gonna sit around here and wait to die. We’re gonna make a run for it,” the man replied. 

“It’s safer here,” Henriksen pushed. 

“There’s a SWAT facility in Boulder.”

Henriksen stepped into your cell. “We’re not going anywhere.” Then, he shot the officer in the head. 

“Sam!” you yelled, and he tossed you Nancy’s rosary as you dodged a blow from the demon possessing Henriksen. You wrestled the gun away from him and threw it out of the cell. You scrambled to subdue the demon and dropped the rosary into the toilet. 

Between shouts from the brothers trying to break out of their cell and Henriksen grunting as you wrestled him, you got your cuffs around Henriksen’s neck and pulled hard. 

You knew it would hurt like a mother, but you flipped yourself over Henriksen’s head and pulled him to the ground with you where the holy-water toilet bowl was waiting. You shouted out an exorcism, continuously forcing his head into the bowl. You sat on his shoulders trying to use all your body weight to way the much stronger man down. 

“Hurry up!” you heard Dean yelling. 

“It’s too late. I already called them!” the demon told you between gasps as his head came out of the water. “They’re already coming.”

You shoved him back into the water and finished the exorcism. 

Henriksen screamed as black smoke shot out of his mouth and into the air vent in the ceiling. 

You got off the man’s back and sat down on the bed, panting. Henriksen had fallen to the floor. You then noticed the small crowd that had gathered around your open cell. 

“Is he… is he dead?” Nancy squeaked. 

Henriksen regained consciousness and coughed. “Henriksen! Hey,” called Sam. “Is that you in there?”

You got down to Henriksen’s level to give him a once-over. 

“I… I shot the sheriff,” Henriksen breathed out. 

You could feel Dean’s next quip coming. “But you didn't shoot the deputy.”

Despite yourself, you snorted out a laugh. You quickly regained your composure when you noticed Sam’s glare. 

“Five minutes ago, I was fine, and then…” 

You cut Henriksen off. “Black smoke? You were possessed.”

He looked up at you in disbelief. “Possessed, like… possessed?”

“That’s what it feels like. Now you know,” you shrugged. 

“I owe you the biggest “I told you so” ever.” Dean returned his gun to Henriksen. 

The agent stood and addressed the officer standing behind him that you’d just noticed. “Officer Amici. Keys.”

With said keys, he released you and the brothers from your cells and chains. 

Dean rushed to your side. 

“Alright, so how do we survive?” Henriksen looked between the three of you.

***

Dean insisted on patching you up. You insisted you could do it yourself, but Dean was just as stubborn as you were. Finally, you allowed him to work on you. 

Sam had drawn two devil’s traps on the floor of the station in the midst of Dean tending to you. The officer, whose name you learned was Phil, helped Henriksen prepare guns. 

Dean snorted at the guns. “Well, that’s nice. It’s not gonna do much good.”

“We got an arsenal here,” Phil replied. 

“It’s like using a BB gun on a T-Rex. That’s just gonna make them mad,” you informed them. 

“What do you need?” asked Henriksen. 

Dean smirked slightly. “Salt. Lots and lots of salt.”

Phil scoffed. “Salt?”

“What, is there an echo in here?”

“There’s road salt in the storeroom,” Nancy piped up from the corner. 

“Perfect. Perfect,” Dean sighed in relief. “We need salt at every window and every door.”

Henriksen and Phil left to go retrieve it. 

You hissed as Dean made a particularly rough jab at your arm with his stitching and grabbed his wrist. 

“Sorry,” he murmured. 

You stroked his wrist with your thumb briefly before dropping your hand. You turned to Nancy, who looked on silently. “How you holdin’ up, angel?”

“Okay,” she shrugged, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “When I was little, I would come home from the Church and start to talk about the devil. And my parents would tell me to stop being so literal. I guess I showed them, huh?” 

You laughed softly. “Evangelical?” 

“Yeah, actually,” she replied. “I would ask if you are, but…” 

You laughed. “No. Raised Catholic, though.”

She made a sound of disapproval.

You laughed again. “Yeah, I’m not exactly crazy about it, either.”

Dean finished wrapping the bandage around your shoulder while you talked to Nancy. “Thank you,” you told your partner. 

He kissed your forehead as he stood from his chair. Phil returned at that moment. 

“Hey, where's my car?” asked Dean. 

“Impound lot out back,” Phil replied. 

Dean moved to leave. 

“Wait.” Phil stopped Dean. “You’re not going out there?”

“Yeah, I got to get something out of my trunk.”

You immediately stood to follow him. “I’m coming with you.”

“(Y/N), no,” Dean warned. 

“Dean,” you responded, leaving no room for argument. His gaze was intense, but you held it with equal ferocity. He was the first to look away, informing you that you’d won the argument. 

You smiled cheerfully and followed him out to the Impala. 

As soon as you were outside, Dean was angrily ranting. “I’m gonna fucking kill Bela, I swear.”

“Not if I kill her first.”

“I mean, she nearly got you fucking killed. Over a gun that means nothing to her. What the fuck is she playing at?” 

“Dean—” you tried to cut him off. 

“I swear to god, I’m gonna make it slow and painful.”

“Dean—”

“She’s gonna wish we got locked up in supermax,” he growled. 

“Dean—!”

“What?!” he asked, turning to face you. 

You were looking at him with such admiration, and his shoulders relaxed immediately as did his angry expression. “I love you,” you told him. 

Dean leaned down to kiss you fiercely in the middle of the impound lot, cupping your chin. You pulled yourself impossibly closer to him.

He pulled away from hungrily kissing you momentarily. “I would fuck you right now if I could.”

You laughed. “Demon hunting’s what does it for you?”

“Watching you demon hunt does it for me,” he said. “The way you held your own against Henriksen? Damn.”

You pulled his lips back down to yours but pulled away after a quick kiss. Dean’s lips chased yours, but you turned and started walking forward. 

“(Y/N),” he groaned.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you told Dean’s car as you approached it. You helped Dean pack his duffel bag with various weapons quickly until you caught sight of black smoke hurrying toward you. The lights in the lot flickered, and you smacked Dean’s arm frantically to get him to look. 

Dean immediately pulled you away from the car after shutting and locking it, and the two of you raced back to the station. 

As quickly as you could, you got back in the doors. “They’re coming!” you shouted, slamming the doors behind you and Dean. 

Black smoke hit the window beside Nancy, and she screamed. You grabbed Dean’s and Nancy’s hands and pulled them into the center office with Sam close behind. 

Dean tossed two sawed-off shotguns to you and Sam, and Henriksen looked between the three of you in admiration and confusion. 

Phil, Nancy, and Henriksen had salted the windows while Sam spray-painted devil’s traps on the floor. The building shook as the demons hit what you imagined was the invisible wall keeping them out. 

“Everybody okay?” Sam asked. 

“Define ‘okay’.” That was the first time you’d heard Henriksen’s voice tremble. 

“Alright, everybody needs to put these on,” ordered Dean, handing each person a protection necklace. “They’ll keep you from being possessed. There you go.”

“What about you guys?” Nancy asked.

You pulled down your jeans just enough to reveal the tattoo on your hip while Sam and Dean revealed theirs on their chests. 

“Smart. How long you had those?” Henriksen asked. 

“Not long enough,” Sam replied. 

***

You stayed in the office with Dean and Henriksen while Phil, Sam, and Nancy went to check the perimeter. Henriksen stared sadly at Melvin’s nameplate— the officer he’d killed— and your heart hurt for him. As much of a pain in your ass as Henriksen had been, he had a big heart. 

He then picked up one of the shells you were filling yours and Dean’s guns with. “Shotgun shells full of salt.”

“Whatever works,” Dean shrugged. 

“Fighting off monsters with condiments,” Henriksen said more to himself than you. “So. Turns out demons are real.” He took off his tie and began filling his own gun with the rocksalt shells. 

“FYI, ghosts are real too,” Dean noted. “So are werewolves, vampires, changelings, evil clowns that eat people.”

“Okay then,” the agent nodded. 

Dean smiled. “If it makes you feel better, Bigfoot’s a hoax.”

Henriksen snorted. “It doesn’t. How many demons?”

“Total?” you asked. “No idea. A whole lot, though.”

“You know what my job is?” Henriksen asked. 

“You mean besides locking up the good guys?” Dean smirked. “I have no idea.”

Henriksen began, “My job is boring; it’s frustrating. You work three years for one break, and then maybe you can save... a few people. Maybe. That’s the payoff. I’ve been busting my ass for fifteen years to nail a handful of guys, and all this while, there’s something off in the corner so big. So yeah… sign me up for that big, frosty mug of wasting my damn life.”

“You didn't know,” you told him.

“Now I do.” Henriksen looked thoughtful. “What’s out there? Can you guys beat it? Can you win?”

“Honestly? I think the world’s gonna end bloody,” Dean replied. “But it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin’.”

“Plus, you got nothing to go home to but your brother.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Dean replied, nodding at you. 

You smiled. 

“So I was right,” Henriksen nodded, smiling lopsidedly. 

“What about you? You rockin’ the white picket fence?” Dean asked Henriksen.

He shook his head. “Empty apartment, string of angry ex-wives.”

“Well, if there’s anything this one’s proven to me,” Dean nodded toward you again, “it’s that there’s someone for everybody.”

“Look at you getting sappy,” you said. “Imagine that.”

Dean smirked and clicked the barrel of the shotgun back into place. 

Suddenly, you heard a crash. You grabbed your gun and ran out into the lobby. 

A woman had broken in, but you couldn’t quite see who it was around Sam. 

“How do we kill her?” Henriksen asked, stepping up beside Sam.

“We don’t.” Sam lowered Henriksen’s rifle, informing you exactly who had gotten in. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, god.”

“She’s a demon,” Henriksen replied, confused. 

“She’s here to help us,” Sam replied. 

“Are you kidding?” Phil piped up.

“Are you gonna let me out?” Ruby asked. 

Henriksen looked to you, confused. You just shook your head in exasperation.

Sam scratched the ground to let Ruby out of the devil’s trap. 

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” she remarked. “Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here.”

“Show off,” you murmured.

Dean smirked. 

Ruby walked past you into the main office, and you, Dean, and Henriksen followed closely. 

“How many are out there?’ you asked. 

“Thirty at least,” she replied. “That’s so far.”

“Oh, good,” Dean snarked. “Thirty! Thirty hit men, all gunning for us.”

“Who sent them?” you asked. 

Ruby looked to Sam, who stood in the doorway. “You didn’t tell them? Oh, I’m surprised.”

“Tell us what?” you asked, cutting your eyes at Sam.

“There’s a big new up and comer. Real pied piper,” she explained. 

“Who is he?” Dean questioned. 

“Not ‘he’. Her,” Ruby answered. “Her name is Lilith.”

You laughed, immediately recognizing the name. “Like, from Isaiah? That Lilith?”

Ruby nodded. “Look at you, sparky. You almost impress me. She really, really wants Sam’s intestines on a stick. ‘Cause she sees him as competition.”

Dean turned his attention to Sam. “You knew about this?” Sam didn’t answer.

“Well, gee, Sam. Is there anything else I should know?!” Dean roared. 

“How about the two of you talk about this later? We’ll need the Colt.”

“About that,” you said to Ruby. 

She looked at you in anticipation. “Where is the Colt?”

“It got stolen,” you admitted. 

“I’m sorry. I must have blood in my ear. I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your thick, clumsy, idiotic hands. Fantastic. This is just peachy.”

“Hey, look,” you said. “You’re not my mother. Spare me the reprimanding, okay?”

“Shut up,” she told you. “Fine. Since I don’t see that there’s any other option, there’s one other way I know to get you out of here alive.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked. 

“I know a spell. It’ll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius. Myself included. So, you let the Colt out of your sight, and now, I have to die. So next time, be more careful. How’s that for a dying wish?” she spat. 

“Okay, what do we need to do?” Dean asked. 

“Aw,” she tsked, “you can’t do anything. This spell is very specific. It calls for a person of virtue.”

Dean nodded. “I got virtue.”

The demon snickered. “Nice try. You’re not a virgin.”

The older brother laughed. “Nobody’s a virgin.”

Ruby looked at Dean and then at Nancy. 

“No. No way. You’re kidding me, r— You’re…” Dean trailed off under your warning gaze. 

“What? It’s a choice, okay?” Nancy’s cheek blushed, and she looked down to her ballet flats. 

“So, y-you’ve never… Not even once? I mean not even – Wow.” “Dean!” you scolded, lightly smacking the back of his head. 

“So, this spell. What can I do?” Nancy smiled at Ruby.

“You can hold still,” Ruby replied, almost smirking, “while I cut your heart out of your chest.”

“What?!” the woman squeaked. 

“Are you crazy?!” you pushed back. 

“I’m offering a solution,” Ruby said in response. 

“You’re offering to kill somebody,” Dean argued. 

“And what do you think’s gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?”

Henriksen piped up. “We’re gonna protect her. That’s what.”

“Very noble,” Ruby scoffed. 

“Excuse me!” Nancy politely interjected. 

“Guys—” you tried, having heard Nancy trying to speak. 

“You’re all gonna die. Look. This is the only way,” Ruby continued, talking over you. 

“Would everybody please shut up?!” Nancy yelled. She turned her attention to Ruby. “All the people out there… will it save them?”

Ruby nodded. “It’ll blow the demons out of their bodies. So if their bodies are okay… yeah.”

Nancy paused thoughtfully. “I’ll do it.” The room erupted into a string of “hell, no”s.

“We don’t have a choice,” Ruby argued. 

“Yeah, well, your choice is not a choice,” Dean asserted. 

“Sam, you know I’m right,” Ruby tried, but the younger brother wouldn’t look at her. 

Dean smiled, thinking Sam would agree with him. “Sam? What the hell is going on?”

“Sam,” you urged. “C’mon, man.”

“It’s my decision,” Nancy tried. 

“Damn straight, cherry pie,” Ruby commented. 

“Stop! Stop! Nobody kill any virgins. Sam, I need to talk to you. (Y/N), you, too.” Dean led you and Sam out into the hallway. “Please tell me you’re not actually considering this. We’re talking about holding down a girl and cutting out her heart.”

“And we’re also talking about thirty people out there, Dean. Innocent people who are all gonna die, along with everyone in here,” Sam responded. 

“It doesn’t mean that we throw away the rule book and stop acting like humans. I’m not gonna let that demon kill some nice, sweet, innocent girl, who hasn’t even been laid. I mean, look, if that’s how you win wars, then I don’t want to win,” Dean stated. 

“Then what? What do we do, Dean?” Sam pushed. 

Dean turned away, and the wheels in your head turned. “Wait, I have an idea,” you announced. “It’s, uh, a stupid one, but it beats killing a virgin.”

“How stupid?” Sam asked. 

“Like, Dean-level stupid,” you answered. 

“I’m standing right here,” Dean said. 

“I’m kidding. You’re very smart when you wanna be.” You patted his shoulder softly.

“Okay, so, what’s the plan?” Sam questioned.

“Open the doors,” you said. “Let ‘em all in, and we go to town.”

***

You stood near the main entrance waiting for Dean to give the “all clear.” Ruby left moments ago through the doors you stood near, and it gave you a clear view of just how many demons lay ahead of you. 

Nancy and Phil waited on the roof with bags of salt to lock the demons in the station with you to carry out your fabulously idiotic plan. 

“All set?” Dean called to you. 

A string of “Ready!” came from you, Sam, and Henriksen. 

“Let’s do this,” called Dean. 

You broke the salt lines and devil’s trap protecting the doors in front of you. You threw the outside doors open, and suddenly, a demon appeared from above to kick his feet at you. You shot at the demon while you scrambled backward to try and scramble into the office. 

You stumbled toward the audio room, shooting shot after shot over your hurt shoulder. You met Henriksen inside, providing him cover while he waited for the symbol from Dean. 

Your shotgun clicked, having run out of shots, and you chuckled the gun at the snarling demon in front of you. 

“Henriksen, now!” Dean yelled, much to your relief. 

Henriksen turned it on while you wrestled with the demon in front of you, and the demon shoved you to the ground. He had your discarded shotgun pressed to your throat as the beginnings of the exorcism you had recorded played over the station’s radio system. 

The demons screamed horribly as your voice carried over the loudspeakers, and the demon above you rolled off, allowing you to breathe once more. As the exorcism finished, you struggled to get to your feet. You checked on Henriksen behind you, who’d also had a tussle with a demon, and he sighed in relief. 

You stumbled out of the audio room with Henriksen in tow, and you found the boys making their way out of the office.

After stepping over the collapsed, formerly possessed people scattered across the floor, Dean tucked you into his side as you took in the scene around you. You wiped blood off your lip and laughed in relief. You put your arm around Sam, and the three of you stayed there silently for a moment. 

***

You bid goodbye to Henriksen, Nancy, and Phil, and the FBI agent had said he’d kill you, Dean, and Sam in his report back to the Bureau. Despite how rocky your relationship with the man had been, you were grateful for the way it’d ended. 

Now, in your motel room, you packed up, and Ruby appeared at the door. 

“Turn on the news,” she ordered, walking into the room. 

You did so.

“The community is still reeling from the tragedy that happened just a few hours ago. Authorities believe a gas main ruptured causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside. Among the deceased, at least six police officers and staff, including sheriff Melvin Dodd, deputy Phil Amici, and secretary Nancy Fitzgerald as well as three FBI agents, identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henriksen.”

Your hand flew to your mouth in horror.

“Three fugitives in custody were also killed. We’ll continue to follow the story here at the scene, but for now, back to you, Jim.”

Ruby turned off the television and looked at the three of you with an “I-told-you-so” look.

“Fuck you, Ruby,” you huffed. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” she responded. 

“Must’ve happened right after we left,” said Sam. 

Ruby tossed hex bags to you and the brothers. “Considering the size of the blast, smart money’s on Lilith.”

“What’s in these?” you asked.

“Something that’ll protect you. Throw Lilith off your trail… for the time being, at least.”

You nodded to her in thanks, and Sam thanked her audibly. 

“Don’t thank me,” she scoffed. “Lilith killed everyone. She slaughtered your precious little virgin, plus a half a dozen other people. So after your big speech about humanity and war, turns out, your plan was the one with the body count. Do you know how to run a battle? You strike fast, and you don’t leave any survivors. So no one can go running to tell the boss. So next time, we go with my plan.” With that, she left. 

Your head dropped in exasperation, and Dean reached over to grab your hand. He squeezed tightly, and you and the Winchesters sat in silence for a long while. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[fandomish]

Mikey was the easiest for me: he’s all percussion, I think of a big drum set with him, or maybe the one from marching bands (is it called drumline? Think of the videos where people play upside down and blindfolded that’s what I’m talking about) where people really show off; loud and important and strong, I think it fits his mystic and razzmatazz fighting styles best

Donnie is also easy: synths; you can make a lot of different kinds of music with them, but at the base they’re always electronic and you can usually pick that out; I’d argue Donnie’s would be more over the top electronic sounding, bc duh tech but also his personality is consistent even through he has a very creative and dynamic mystic type (literally inventing anything he wants)

Raph is actually the hardest one, bc I’m tempted to lump him in with Mikey and say percussion but that’s not accurate; if Raph is percussion he’d be the beat bc of the way he holds his brothers up, but I’d argue that that actually fits Leo best since Leo usually is the one manipulating the playing field and setting the pieces— the beat is what the rest of the instruments follow, but Raph is less of a planner and much more of a heavy hitter. Thus, I’d call Raph the brass section of the band, really loud trumpets and tubas, the main one who acts out plans (combo attacks usually surround his projections in boosts, which would make him the melody aka trumpets) as well as lots of strength to support the others (which is where low brass comes in)

Leo is v curious bc you THINK he’d be a trumpet. He’s loud and showy and the first one you notice. And that’s fair, he is the trumpet sometimes, but that’s not his best work; trumpet is the Face Man, when he’s forcing everyone to focus on his mouth instead of the other aspects he has domino-falling into place. His actual instrument is a lot more subtle, providing undertones to everyone else but undeniably noticeable when it’s missing. I called him the beat earlier and I meant it, I’d give him a low strings instrument, like a cello or a bass. They’re hard to play, but when they’re featured in music it gives the song so much more depth (think “Rule #34” by Fish in a Birdcage). Leo wants you to focus on his trumpeting so the cello can do the real work

TL;DR: Mikey gets percussion, Donnie is synths, Raph is the brass section, and Leo has multiple instruments bc of his masking (trumpet when face man-ing and cello for his leading/strategizing)

Question for everyone to answer however they like!

What musical instruments do you associate with the turtles’ respective fighting styles/movements? Doesn’t have to be just one thing, multiple together also works! I’m just very curious what everyone thinks of tbh. Not like, actual songs or anything, but straight up sounds that reflect the characters’ movements in battle!🎶

[operationandre]

cal working as a counselor at vacation bible school.

cal grew up in a christian family, but he stopped joining them on sundays and wednesdays to church when he was in middle school. his mom has always been really involved at the church, sending her youngest kids to vbs and fixing snacks for all the children.

when she found out cal was in trouble for smoking weed, she worried about what the church would think. she wondered what to do with him until she realized it was about summer time--time for vacation bible school.

she'd force him to volunteer there, taking care of kids like his little siblings, to learn a lesson. plus, she could tell all the other church moms that his interactions with the police were just small mess ups, that he was working on himself.

every day for two weeks, cal helps set up arts and crafts, hands out random apple juices and animal crackers, and helps tidy up the play area after the toddlers have recess. he also was chosen to perform songs for the kids because of his ability to play guitar. he almost said no before his mom told him he had too. he refused to do anything other than play and mumble, though.

despite having to wash glitter off his face every night and learn random churchy lyrics to stupid kid songs, he actually enjoyed it. he refused to admit that to anyone, even andre.

[boofeine]

hiii can you pls do seventeen x grovelling? like what lengths would seventeen do just to get you back??? 😭

seventeen x groveling

warnings: none! besides it's cliche and annoying but we love

seungcheol is the type to literally beg. he will show up to you, sulking and pouting, trying to convince you to get back to him on his knees for you. he's so whiny and desesparate, tugging on your legs and shirt like a dependent kid.

jeonghan knows all your schedules by heart, would not so innocently show up at the places you've been. his heart racing when he actually sees you there, approaching the cashier to buy your favorite food and asking to land it to you with a note of apology and love to you.

joshua is the type to come with flowers and chocolates, he'd even say he's writing a song for you so he can have you back. the roses in hand and the guitar wrapped around his shoulders.

junhui is cheesy but doesn't know what to do for you... he'd actually show up with a big plushie and heart air balloons, a stuttering speech that he had prepared and rehearsed beforehand.

soonyoung is in love and will let everyone know. he's the real deal, like screaming and crying like a desesparate man, hanging on any chance or any minor space you give him for some touch.

wonwoo is also the type to send you flowers. but will just leave it at your door, with a little note of his name, saying he misses you and needs you back. he will still try to convince you on a date.

jihoon have written way too many songs about you, doesn't think it will work to have you back. expect him to write you a big handwriting letter or a cd with all the songs, also the ones you haven't heard, or actually, he'll give both to you.

seokmin emotional side really shines here, he gets a bit sensitive thinking it was all his fault. he'd flood your phone with messages like "what went wrong?" "what did i do?" "i do anything to have you back" and yes... when the courage creeps through, he will definitely call you crying.

mingyu is gaining you back by the belly, like being for real, he's cooking you everything. delivering your favorite dishes by him at your door and making cookies with cheesy quotes.

minghao would actually come to talk, praying you'd consider. to hear everything you have to say and work on being better for you. he'd reply "i do anything to earn you back" so nonchalantly like it wasn't the craziest thing you've heard.

seungkwan definitely won't stop texting you. asking if you take your vitamins/pills, if you have eaten, and for that will send you delivery of your favorite foods to your work and home; "do you want me to go pick you up from work?" as if he's trying to sugarcoat you're still together or will.

vernon doesn't fool me, this man would cry, like cry until his nose is red, begging to have you back. he'd apologize for things he didn't do and more just not to sit with conformation. hear me out when i say this... he can't live without you.

chan is texting long texts, sending flowers, shouting on your window... i mean, haven't you seen wait mv?? the real hopeless romantic, he's just so desesparate to have you back, don't want to wait and waste time, he will tell you that.

[papayadays]

🎻 74 + alex or oscar (whoever you think fits best!)

a/n: oh i loved writing this ☺️ soft domestic oscar my beloved (i was torn between alex and oscar, but ultimately choose oscar. can you tell i have a mclaren bias? 😵‍💫)

74 - this is what forever feels like by jvke & nick jonas

“love?” you glanced up upon hearing oscar’s voice, seeing him walk towards you, rubbing his eyes. it was darker than usual since you hadn’t bothered turning the lights on, opting to light some candles instead. “what are you doing?” it was one in the morning, and you had decided to head to the kitchen after you woke up, not wanting to bother oscar and not tired enough to go back to sleep.

“sorry to wake you up,” you apologized. “i just couldn’t fall back asleep. don’t worry about me, you can go back to sleep.” you turned your attention back to the hot chocolate you were making, but oscar didn’t budge. “osc?”

“i’ll just wait here with you,” he said groggily. “can’t really sleep without you.” you chuckled, a fond smile on your face.

“well, it’s a good thing i made extra,” you said quietly. as you added marshmallows, you could feel oscar’s gaze on you from here he was leaning against the island.

you handed oscar a mug, who gave you a soft, “thank you.” instinctively, you two lifted up your mugs for a silent toast.

“your hot chocolate is always so good,” oscar murmured, taking a long sip.

“it’s just normal hot chocolate,” you laughed, leaning against his shoulder. oscar’s arm reached out, wrapping around your waist and pulling you to his side.

when you two finished and set your mugs down, you took oscar’s hands. “dance with me,” you suggested, though oscar wasn’t convinced.

“why? it’s one in the morning, sweetheart,” he protested, though you both knew he would cave eventually. “and there’s no music.” you grabbed your phone, the light casting a soft glow on your face.

“that can be easily solved,” you said, opening your spotify playlist and hitting shuffle. a slow, relaxed song came on - you were pretty sure it was by jvke and a jonas brother - and again, you reached for oscar’s hands.

until we’re seventy, dancing with me

this time, however, he let you lead him to an open area in the entryway between the kitchen and dining room. the lyrics of the song wove into the moment, as the flickering candlelight made oscar look perfect. you wrapped your arms around his neck, feel his told tighten around your waist as you two swayed to the song.

just passing the time, with you right by my side

you felt oscar rest his chin on your shoulder as he pulled you impossibly closer. “this is a pretty good way to waste our time,” he mumbled, the vibrations from his chest reaching you.

just stay with me, promise you’ll never leave

“is it a waste of time?” you countered with a sleepy smile. “because i rather like this, us dancing for no reason.”

oscar nodded into your hair, pressing a gentle kiss. “you’re right, it’s totally productive work,” he deadpanned, making you snort.

“exactly,” you agreed, running with his joke as oscar twirled you around. despite the odd hour, you were happy to just be here with oscar, even if it meant less sleep.

i wanna love you for the rest of my life, until we’re seventy

joyce's birthday bash! 😽

[ssxpm]

for the first time ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

satoru gojo x fem!reader

────୨ৎ────

chapter two!

────୨ৎ────

synopsis: you are suguru geto's half-sister. after spending the majority of your life abroad, you decide to run away back to japan to peruse jujutsu sorcery to get away from your mothers horrible boyfriend. now, you finally get to know your half-brother and his friends and mostly, his rather attractive but... annoying best friend.

tags: satoru gojo x fem!reader, naoya zenin x fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, normal au (geto doesnt get defected), pre star plasma vessel arc, definitely a bit ooc, smau, enemies to lovers, angst, hurt, toxicity, fluff, satoru gojo is a whole warning himself, suggestive, cursing, mentions of suicide,

title of this fic/smau is based (not really) on for the first time by mac demarco!! i like basing my fics on songs

(lowercase intended!!!) i've had an idea to do this for a while, my writing is pretty shit lmao. im also working out how to use tumblr, as im more of an a03 girlie, enjoy:3

────୨ৎ────

suguru's pov:

y/n's pov:

suguru's pov:

────୨ৎ────

extras!

- uhh so the arranged marriage trope??

- naoya wont be endgame guys!

- already chapter two and y/n isn't even in the country😦 this might be a long fic guys

- naoya x reader arc??? /j. naoya sucks ass. y/n and naoya dated for a brief time but it was long distance and naoya is toxic. when he found out y/n was coming back to japan he pulled some strings in order for her dad to say yes to the offer

-okay im not sure were im gonna take this from here... hold up

- satoru is a complete loser with a high ego, and he was too scared to say smth nice to y/n bc he's such a pussy

- suguru knows about y/n'a mistreatment, and despite being in two different countries for years he will still check up on y/n a lot

taglist!!!!: (open!!)

@reiluvr

────୨ৎ────

[starlightkun]

sugarcoated brain [teaser]

⏯ teaser word count: 723 | full fic: 13.7k ⏯ genre: punk band frontman!shotaro, venue manager!reader, shotaro is whipped, reader is emotionally unavailable, is it a slowish burn or is it angst?, whatever it is ur reading a starlightkun fic so there’s a happy ending :), ft. eunseok/sungchan/wonbin as shotaro’s bandmates welcome back boys & wayv as reader’s coworkers ⏯ warnings: not necessarily a warning but since i do generally avoid describing the reader’s appearance in my fics, i wanted to give a heads up—reader works at a punk/alternative concert venue and is generally in/around that scene. reader is mentioned and/or implied to have some tattoos and piercings (other than earlobes) ⏯ extra info: set in the same universe as filler episodes, but u don’t need to read that in order to understand this one, filler eps!sungchan and sugarcoated!shotaro r just in the same band! also the title is from a 5sos song lol ⏯ estimated release: saturday, november 16, 2024 3:00 p.m. eastern time

“Is that sanitary?” Eunseok’s voice announced Roses for Eyes’ arrival that particular afternoon, as you sat atop the bar counter, scrolling on your phone in one of your few moments of peace and quiet around Venue:Hell.

“Kiss my ass, Eunseok,” you replied without even looking up.

“Yeah, I’ll get in line,” he retorted, making Sungchan and Wonbin laugh.

That finally prompted you to slide your gaze up, just in time to see the three of them laughing over by the stage as Shotaro flipped them all off over his shoulder, making his way towards you. He had two cups in one hand, one with a bright green straw in it, and the other without a straw, and you saw that the other three band members each had a plastic cup with a straw sticking out of them as well. You silently watched Shotaro approach, raising an eyebrow at him once he’d stopped in front of you.

“We were getting boba on our way here, and thought we’d grab you one, too.” His cheeks were a bright pink as he held the unopened cup out to you, and fished a packaged purple straw out from the front pocket of his black jean jacket.

“Who’s this ‘we’ that you’re talking about?” You asked humorously. “They all apparently think getting me boba is kissing my ass.”

Shotaro straightened up, puffing his chest out. “Actually, yeah. Fuck ‘em. I got you one because I thought it’d be nice to get you one too since you do so much for us every week. It’s uh-It’s honey milk tea, because I didn’t know what flavor you liked.”

“Thank you, Shotaro.” You accepted the cup and straw from him graciously, to a chorus of snickers from the spectators on the other side of the floor. “Honey milk tea is more than acceptable.”

“But it’s not your favorite?”

“I don’t have a favorite.” You set the cup on the bartop beside you to stab the straw into it.

“You—Hey, are those mine?” He seemed to have finally noticed the sunglasses perched atop your head.

“What? These?” You teased, tapping the plastic accessory arm on one side of your head.

“I was looking for those today!”

You took them off, offering them out towards him. “You left them here last week.”

Shotaro took the glasses just to turn them right back around, take a step closer to you, and place them back on your head, a fond smile on his face as he did so. “I think you look better in them, actually. You can hold onto them for a little longer.”

You swallowed, your chest suddenly feeling too tight for your heart, and six eyes suddenly feeling like way too many to be in the room with you two right now. You chuckled, trying to keep up the congenial tone as you once more pulled them off. This time, you folded the arms and tucked the sunglasses into Shotaro’s jacket pocket for him. “Thanks, Shotaro, but I can’t take your sunglasses. They’re really rockstar sunglasses anyway, not for someone like me.”

At that moment, you grabbed your boba tea and hopped off the bar, scooting out from between him and the counter. You avoided looking at the others, beelining for the back office.

When Shotaro had to come get his in-ears from you just a few minutes later, you gave him the same pleasant smile as usual, handing him the case. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He tapped the case against his palm, the sound dampened by the fingerless gloves he was wearing that day. “What did you mean? When you said someone like you.”

“Wh—About the sunglasses?” You’d hardly expected him to confront you about that comment at all, much less alone now, just you and him in the office, no peanut gallery. While six eyes had felt like too many, this felt far too intimate. You somehow felt more exposed than before. “Like I said—They’re cool rockstar sunglasses, that’s what you are. You should wear them you know, up on stage, being all cool and stuff. I’m crew; no point in me wearing them while I’m sitting back here where nobody can see them.”

He frowned, but thankfully didn’t try to give them to you again. “I think you’re cool, Y/N.”

With that, he left the office.

⤷ masterlist

[katerinaaqu]

What's your opinion on how Telemachus was handled in Epic (so far) ? I'm curious 😀.

And what is different from his Odyssey portrayal ? Not counting the fanart that infantilizes him, I'm strictly talking about the musical itself.

Hahahaha you guys definitely wanna put me against a wall one of these days! XD But I absolutely LOVE this question! Hahaha okay here goes;

Absolutely I wasn't gonna talk about the fanart and all that is part of the designing process and arguably that is part of every person to do. They could easily choose the depiction more Odyssey-accurate and still use the musical sound so yes you do well to mention it because yes I myself wouldn't touch the design part in this ask

Anyways long story short; I don't like it.

Storywise it is overly-simplified and shows only one portion of his possible emotions; the one that tries to connect with his father. That part is genuine and I see where the portrayal such as the song "Legendary" came from. Arguably Homer himself also touches the subject of glory through one's deeds and I see where the musical came from when Telemachus says what he says but the song was too bbbly, too naive portrayal of Telemachus and in a way completely disregarded the true depth of sadness and depression in Telemachus.

In the Odyssey Telemachus never connected to his father because his father was never there. To the point where he was even doubting whether he was his son or not. He basically says that "everyone calls me that but how can I know? The dude was never there. Possibly never will be here again". His whole energy was the total opposite than Epic.

Epic portrays Telemachus in a manner that reminds me of Disney's Little Mermaid in "Part of your world"; a bubbly teenager who dreams to start his life or to be making a legendary name for himself like his father and in childish naive energy says "bring me all these monsters to fight them!" while in his childish naive nature was also making him afraid or worried to face the bullying of the suitors (the way the suitors were portrayed as if Jorge wanted to make them EVEN MORE evil also had me cringe like Antinous calling Penelope "tramp". Antinous called Penelope more or less "divious" because of her scheme against them but that was all. In here they are competing for her hand while calling her names without reason? Yeah right....). He seemed like the average teenager that needs the adult to get him to realize video games is not the life and that he needs to do something about his future! Does he also seem low-key sad? Yes. But just like Ariel in the Disney movie was pictured as a dreamer that wanted escape from his confided situation through bubbly and childish dreams.

Odyssey Telemachus was both emotionally and psychologically exhausted; his mother was taken down by grief and endless waiting and had confided herself in her chambers, trying her best to avoid the suitors that were at her home for FOUR YEARS, constantly crying at this point. Telemachus also saw his grandfather lose his mind in sorrow and his grandmother melting away by desperation and sadness and dying or potentially killing herself by it. The last thing he wanted was "to be legendary". In fact Telemachus gave me the exact opposite energy than a dreamer. He was very down to earth and his main goal was to get out of this nasty situation, trying to grow as a person to set himself free from this torment. He had so much in his plate that the last thing he wanted was to dream. In fact he gave me the impression of a person with no more the luxury of dreaming. He almost seemed crushed to the point of breaking himself almost like every other member of his family. (He gives me the impression of a person that after spent years of trying and fulflling their dreams now they are forced to work in a work they hate for survival and think that "dreams are for fools. No luxury for them!")

Like I said Menelaus described Telemachus as a spitting image of his father including his eyes, which is something I find the most important. Menelaus compared Telemachus's gaze to Odysseus; a man that fought a war with him! A man exhausted by the evil he saw and caused. Telemachus's profound grief was so intense that his look was equivalent to a man Menelaus fought a war with! He was the opposite of what we see in Epic! In fact we know that Telemachus was also very much silent and tried to keep a low profile so he didn't need to face the humiliation of the men that were literally plundering his wealth and harassing his mother and himself. The last thing he had in his mind would be to "be legendary". He was also plundered by the fact that not only was he doubting that Odysseus was his father per se but also he was in doubt that this Odysseus that everyone named his father would be alive or dead. He didn't know that. He was actually almost certain that Odysseus was dead but that part in the back of his head was not yet leaving him in peace which is why he needed Athena's guidance

Which brings me to the next part; Athena In Epic Athena appears to...give Telemachus the boost to fist-fight the suitors for some reason and mind you he still gets his ass handed at him! It made it seem as Telemachus's only problem was that he didn't have the guts or skills to fight the suitors and Athena gave him a solution! (potentially a message to stand up against bullies for teenagers? Perhaps but still I felt it massively undermined Telemachis's situation in the book) As I have answered to another person around here, Telemachus's problem was that the suitors claimed the law of hospitality and named themselves ODYSSEUS'S guests. Telemachus could not yet take over as king and he had no power to send them away. Plus he was plundered by doubt about his own inheritence. What Athena did was not to make Telemachus a fighter for he already was (we see how well he stands against them at the side of his father in the Odyssey) she came to encourage him to find out on his own.

Arguably the trip of Telemachus was a mirror counterpart of Odysseus's but instead of a trip that makes you lost like Odysseus was lost, it was a trip for self-discovery. Mind you, both the trip of Odysseus and the trip of Telemachus are cognitive trips; both characters learn in them and come in contact with places. Psychologically the trip allows Telemachus to escape this boarderline toxic grief in his home and explore the world. Also find out on his own information about his father. Now, arguably he never really finds out about his father's whereabouts for certain apart from Menelaus's vision but there is something he definitely gets out of his trip that is not talked about enough;

He finds out he REALLY is the son of his father and he gets information about what kind of man he was!

He hears from friends that fought with him how similar he looks to him; not just from his closed and secluded environment but of people outside his circle and his known people that he looks like him and they also give him information about him. No more the random comments the suitors he hated say or his sad mother who could either idealize his father to escape her grief or the loyal slave Euryclea who adored the family naturally like a mother; now it was also friends and known people of Odysseus that speak about him Telemachus is double-checking his information! Thus coming home much more confident on his inheritence and his own destiny and duty

Arguably the Odyssey is as much Telemachus's story as it is Odysseus's. Telemachus was in one way a spectrum of Odysseus; fighting a different type of war; losing himself in a different type of sadness. His story was a story of coming of age not a story of a goddess that teaches him how to stand up against bullies. Telemachus already does that in the Odyssey by calling the council. Arguably he was alays standing against the suitors but his position did not allow him to do something drastic! I think just like many things Epic missed this by a mile; reducing Telemachus's profound grief, sadness and uncertainty to an average teenage escapism story rather than the fact that Telemachus had no luxury or energy for escapism, Athena's advice for self-discovery to the average "raise your fists and fight your bullies" story ignoring the deep cultural details that led Telemachus to that tight spot in the first place and of course it completely abandoned the importance of Telemachus's trip which could be a subject of a movie on its own! (Quite frankly Telemacheia covers more chapters in the Odyssey than Odysseus's own flashback! It covers 5 rhapsodies of the Odyssey while Odysseus's story covers 3-4)

I hope this answers some questions! I will be happy to elaborate more.

[theitgirlnetwork]

What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 2: Date 1 Pt. 1

Note: Thank you so much for the love you all have been showing this story so far! Thank you for reading, and for the kinds messages I have received thus far! I love interacting and seeing your thoughts and comments so keep 'em coming. I want to take this time to remind you that these characters will be flawed. Rafe is....Rafe, but we love him anyway. And Milan is...someone who is compatible with Rafe. They won't always be the depiction of a healthy relationship, but this is fiction and fun. This chapter isn't too bad, but those who have read the snippet know how it's gonna get. Once again, I have songs for this ship so if anyone is interested in them let me know, and feel free to share some with me if you catch a vibe. Finally, let me know if you have any questions or comments. Other than that, I hope you enjoy. This one is a lot shorter than chapter 1, but it is a 2 parter, so don't hate me. Love ya! <3333

“Wait.”

Rafe pauses, loosening his grip on Milan’s hair and pulling back slightly, irritated that she’d stopped him just as their lips brushed and she breathed the smoke he’d just poured into her mouth between them. “What? What’s up?”

“I don’t,” She sighs, her cool breath on his face, eyes still shut as if she’s forcing herself to pause this moment between them. “I don’t just hook up with guys, you know? Maybe we could…I dunno.”

Oh. Oh. Rafe understands. He’d…he’d forgotten himself for a moment. This isn’t some touron stumbling onto the couch next to him, throwing herself at him. She wasn’t one of those gold digging bitches that tries to fuck  him with faulty condoms in the bottom of her purse. She’s the kind of girl who has her own shit. She doesn’t need him for a come up. Or at least she doesn’t think she does. 

He arrogantly thinks to himself that Milan hasn’t met a man like Rafe Cameron. He’s spent most of his life preparing, becoming the type of man that can run his family, keep them safe and comfortable. The type of son fathers are proud to have and the type of man women want to give a baby. That’s the man who he’s made himself be. 

Rafe had been so focused, only allotting himself time for a little bit of fun once in a while, he’d forgotten that one day he might stumble across a girl that had the potential to be a woman. His woman. 

He nods slowly, a small smile forming on his face as he pulls back more, releasing her head completely and smoothing his hand back onto her knee. “Nah, I get it. We should get to know each other a little better. How ‘bout you spend the day with me tomorrow?”

Milan perches herself up at that, back straightening even more as her face lights up. “Really? You wanna spend the day with me?”

Rafe rests his head back on the top of the couch, sweeping his thumb on her bottom lip before biting his own and nodding. “Yeah, I wanna show you a good time. Get you a little more comfortable with me so I can kiss those pretty lips of yours.”

Both sets.

“Okay, wait, I’m excited. You’re gonna be my first friend here.”

“Friend?” Rafe scoffs. “‘M’not gonna be your friend, Princess.”

“Well,” Milan shrugs, “Like, I don’t know what I could call you, you’re not my man-”

“Yet. Not your man yet.” He and the woman next to him share twin smiles and Rafe only becomes more invigorated by Milan’s eyeroll and shy grin. “Roll your eyes if you want to, I’m a determined guy.” 

“Determined?”

“Yeah, like I know what I like, I work for what I want, so-”

“So what?” Milan giggles, “You…you want me? I should get ready or something?”

“Yeah.” Rafe says flippantly, as if he wasn’t essentially making a threat of courtship to a girl he’d just met like 12 hours before. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d fully wanted from her yet. But the need to have her was nagging at him. Maybe it was lust. She was hot, forbidden fruit for him. He could hear the curses Ward would spit at him now if he fucked around and ruined things with this girl, made an enemy of her dad. Maybe it was how sweet she seems. He’s always liked shiny, new things. When he was a kid, he had to have stuff before his friends did. Toys. Shoes. Stocks. Maybe he’s graduated to feeling that way about women. 

Something about how he doesn’t want to look away. Something about the way she was smiling at him, how he’s talked to her the most, how in a room full of guys drooling over her, those big pretty eyes were locked on him. Rafe felt like he had to look into this weird feeling she’s been stirring in his chest since he’d seen her. 

It’s what’s best for Milan anyway. None of the rest of these limp dick motherfuckers should have her. They’re not real men. Not like Rafe.

Milan hums as she removes the golden under eye patches from under her eyes, massaging in the serum they leave atop of her skin. Grimacing at a gust of damp wind from outside she pads against the marble floor of her bathroom and pushes the double doors leading to the patio attached closed. “Stupid, island humidity.” She pouts as she combs through her bob again, praying for no puffiness today.

The sky fights to brighten in the early morning. It’s 5:00 a.m. and Rafe Cameron was going to be picking her up in 30 minutes. 

After the party last night Sarah had run over to her on the front lawn, hugging her tightly before declaring she was going home with John B. and offering for Milan to come with them. When she declines with a smile, the blonde fixes her brother with a glare, to which he’d returned with a middle finger, and stumbled off in her man’s arms. 

Rafe drove Milan back to her house and parked them out front, eyes carefully rotating between staring at Milan sitting pretty in his passenger seat, and watching for a sign of her father at the door. He let her toy with his fingers as she fluttered her lashes at him and he described what he does throughout the day, Or, rather, what they’d be doing today.

When he’d mentioned picking her up after the gym Milan had jumped at the opportunity to go with him. She loved going to the gym every morning before she’d moved and she was happy to keep it going. And it wouldn’t hurt to see Rafe work out. 

It was all she could think about. It’s not just his height. Even though he’s so…so tall. At least 6’2. Rafe is big. Muscle. Strength. Yesterday he’d basically hoisted her full weight into his truck with one arm. The preppy boy polo that he’d thrown on for their families hadn’t hidden anything and his tight crew neck that he wore to the party basically outlined everything for her. 

She quite literally wanted him to throw her around like a ragdoll. Or let her climb him like a tree. Whatever, Rafe is hot. 

He has an intense vibe, seemingly takes himself very seriously. But, Milan figures she could relax him. Loosen him up a little bit. 

They were gonna have so much fun. Smiling at her own reflection in the mirror, Milan spritzes vanilla Sol de Janeiro and all but fucking skips down the steps and to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Milan, you’re awake early. I just started prepping for breakfast, but I could make you a coffee while you wait.” The private chef that her parents had hired a couple years ago had made the move with them. They’d paid for her to come with them to Outer Banks and offered to increase her salary because…well…it wasn’t their nice home in Quebec that she was used to. 

“No, thank you, Miss Ally.” Milan reaches over, stealing a newly washed strawberry and biting into it. “And my parents aren’t awake, right?”

“Of course not. You know your mother won’t roll out of bed until she smells the food cooking and your dad won’t come until I’ve had to warm it up twice. Why? Are you alright, honey?”

The younger woman nods, tossing the green stem into the trash and reaching for two travel cups. “Can you keep a secret? I have, like, a date today.” 

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, with a guy. He’s really cute, and sweet. So,” Milan begins sifting matcha, smiling down at the cup and resting her cheek on her shoulder. “‘M’gonna hang out with him today.”

“Less than 48 hours and there’s a boy, huh? Atta girl.” Miss Ally passes Milan the vanilla protein powder. “You’ve been worried about the move, thinking it was a bad idea, and here you are making friends.”

“Mhm, hot ones. With blue eyes and dimples.”

“And where,” Ally nudges Milan out of the way as she pours the hot water into the travel mug, “am I supposed to tell your parents you are when you’re out with Mr. Blue Eyes and Dimples?” 

“Touring the island.” She chirps. 

“With who?”

“Just like…generally. They should be cool with it honestly, I just know they’re gonna make it weird, but like, he’s the son of Dad’s first friend here so he shouldn’t be mad. How come he gets a boyfriend and I don’t?”

“Oh, just say that to your parents, I’m sure they’ll go for it then.” Ally snorts, whisking the eggs as Milan seals the travel mugs, laughing to herself as the girl slides both of the pink cups to the end of the counter next to her gym bag.

When Rafe pulls up outside of the Cabot house, he texts Milan before hopping out of his truck and jogging up the cobblestone. He agreed not to ring the doorbell because her parents were awake but he’d be damned if he didn’t pick her up at the door. 

As he stands on at the doorstep he adjusts the hat he has rested on his head and rocks on his feet impatiently. He isn’t waiting long. The door swings open and he’s immediately hit with the sweet smell of vanilla and soon after is met with the walking wet dream carrying the scent. 

“Good morning!” Milan grins, tossing her arms around his neck, bouncing up into his arms. Rafe isn’t fucking stupid, he’s quick to catch her around the waist and squeeze, relishing in the feeling of her pressed against him. 

“Morning, princess.” he murmurs into her hair, squeezing her again for good measure before placing her back on her feet.  “You, uh, you always go to the gym in shit like that?”

“Shit like what? Stop.” she laughs as he snaps the elastic of her leggings. 

“You just look good. That’s all I’m sayin’.” He chews the gum in his mouth and nudges her chin with his knuckle, mumbling, “Watch your mouth.”

“Yeah? Thank you.” she grins, looking away from him briefly. “I made…I made you something, like a gym drink or whatever.

“That’s cute sweetheart, what do you like me or somethin’?” Rafe snorts, choosing to ignore the fact that the travel mug she was pushing into his hands was bubble gum pink. He holds his hand out to her, not even looking back as he starts guiding her over to his truck. When he hears a little shuffle from her he looks back and glances down at her feet. “What the fuck, your shoes aren’t tied.”

“Okay, one of them untied when I was making you this delicious protein shake and I didn’t wanna make you wait-” 

“Christ.” Rafe grunts, unlocking his car and wrenching the door open, planting his hands on Milan’s waist and hoisting her into the seat easily. He tugs her foot onto his lap and begins tying the lace of her sneaker tightly. “Gonna break your fuckin’ neck.”

“I wasn’t gonna fall, Rafe-”

“You literally were letting me drag you down those steps.” When he’s done Rafe lifts her leg into the car, closing the door and walking around the driver’s side and climbing in. After he clicks his seatbelt on, he pauses and frowns when he sees Milan’s pout staring forward at the road. He puffs out a breath. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You haven’t said ‘thank you’. For your drink.” 

“Wh-are you serious?”

“Yes. You seriously haven’t said ‘thank you.’” 

“Uh…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he observes the girl. Arms crossed, dramatic frown on her pretty, glossed lips, knees pointed away from him. “Th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” she immediately warms up, clicking her own seatbelt on and taking a sip of her drink, moving back to the middle of her seat. As Rafe tries to sort through what quick, guerilla warfare he’d just experienced, he starts driving the car. 

So that’s her game. She’s cute and pretty and pouts like a fuckin’ brat when she doesn’t feel like she’s getting what she wants. Or someone is saying something she doesn’t wanna hear. All she’s showing me is that I’m exactly what she needs.

“M’just sayin’ like your shirt’s a little slutty. Like it’s tight, I can see your nipples and everything.”

“Don’t say shit like that, what the fuck?” 

“It’s like tight and stuff, like it’s a little bit of a hoochie shirt.” 

“Hoo-hoochie shirt. Fuckin’ brat.” Rafe shakes his head. In the time it’s taken to drive to the gym and for Rafe to put his card down to get Milan a temporary membership, she’d clearly been trying to test him. She was pushing boundaries to see what he would and wouldn’t accept. And he would try to be patient. But the jokes weren’t gonna be as funny when he was using her mouth for what he really wanted to use it for. Not now. He had to wait. To humor her. She was cute. He’d give her that. Maybe he needed to be cute back. “Don’t work out in the damn shirt anyway,” 

Milan’s eyes widen as she stares up at Rafe from where she’s stretching on the floor. She bites her lip and shifts her gaze to herself in the mirror as he easily tugs the tight shirt off of his chiseled muscles, tossing it into his gym bag next to her. 

Jesus. She bites her lip, berating herself inwardly as she glances at the tanned skin he was now baring for the world to see, six pack on display as he starts doing some standing stretches. “Here, sweetheart.” Rafe crouches next to her, pushing one of his airpods into her ear. “You, uh, didn’t have headphones, so you can just listen to my shit.”

“Can we make a spotify jam?”

“What?”

“So, I can add songs too, can we make a jam? And we’d be listening to the same thing, at the same time, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, sure why the fuck not? You’re not gonna add any corny shit are you? M’trustin’ you with my workout. Like that’s pretty fuckin’ special.”

“Oh my God, Rafe, I’m…I’m sure we have basically the same taste in music.”

Rafe and Milan are at war for essentially their whole warm up. They agree to separate for cardio and then meet back up for them both to try some of each other’s usual workouts. With the shared music blasting in their ears, they both still felt like they were hanging out for the 40 minutes that they are apart. Rafe spent half of his run on the treadmill listening to Beyoncé and Sabrina Carpenter’s discographies while Milan genuinely flinched on the stairmaster with Travis Scott and 50 Cent pounding against her ear drums. Both of them looking at each other with sick satisfaction when it was their turn to pick a song, making a game out of picking something they thought would irritate the other more. 

Rafe had finally had enough and started skipping Milan’s picks when the High School Musical Soundtrack started playing, eventually coming to pluck her off of her machine to start doing weights as Troy began singing about wanting his own dream. 

By now they’d both finished their protein shakes and felt like they had a lot of energy. Well, at least they both did. Until Rafe started making Milan do his workouts.

She was both turned on and enraged as he demonstrates different forms of weightlifting, chuckling at her deeply as she struggles to do another set. “Mmkay, okay, that’s enough, I’m done with that.”

“Nah, you didn’t even finish that one, c’mon let’s go.”

“Rafe, no” she whines getting off of the bench. Milan immediately gasps as Rafe fists the fabric at the front of her leggings, lifting her off of her feet and physically placing her back onto the equipment. 

Slapping her thigh, he offers her a no-nonsense look that lets her know that she isn’t getting up until she completes this workout to his satisfaction. “Baby, let’s go, stop fuckin’ around.”

Shit. Yes sir. “I want…breakfast food after this. Like, waffles, and butter and stuff.”

“'Let me come to the gym with you, Rafe. I wanna where my cute little outfit and not workout.'”

“Asshole.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Wait…until we start doing my pilates workout. All those muscles will mean…nothing.”

“Yeah, you like ‘em?” He smirks, grabbing the weight to ease it down against her before helping her off. “That your excuse? Can’t focus?”

“Stop…being mean, worst date ever.” She whines, leaning her head against his chest. 

Rafe pats Milan’s ass twice before nudging her into the direction of the next machine. "Best fuckin' date of your life, brat."

“Are you gonna keep staring at my butt or are you gonna try again?” Milan calls over to Rafe. 

“My body is not built for that girly shit. You keep goin’ though.” He says. Milan rolls her eyes and continues on the machine, pausing when she sees the reflection of a camera flash in the mirror. “Damn, flash was on.”

“Rafe!”

“You look good, baby. I thought you’d like me to be all sentimental and shit, capture our first date.”

“Oh my God. You’re like, not even working out at this point.”

He shrugs, tilting his head to get a better view of her. “You’re the one who got an attitude when that girl asked me to spot her and made us change floors.

“She saw you with me.” Milan hisses through her teeth, pausing her movements. “She was trying to be funny.” 

“Think so?” Rafe scoffs, squirting water into his mouth from the bottle he’d kept in his bag. 

“Yeah, but if you liked the attention you could go back down.”

Rafe wets his bottom lip at that. Being at the gym with Milan has been fun. Turns out, he likes talking to her, which is more than what he could say for the majority of the population. She’s sexy, and doesn’t mind him being handsy. She seemed to all but expect him to pat her ass in encouragement after she finishes anything. She likes for him to teach her, guide her movements, place her on and off of machines. She likes to whine and have him sort her out. And she’s possessive. Jealous. Normally the concept of having someone police him sounds emasculating and unacceptable to Rafe. But watching her pretty little face turn into a scowl as she watched girls check him out or come up to him like they always did in the gym? It turned him on bad. 

She matched his crazy. It didn’t matter that it was their first date, the same way Rafe’s lip curled in disgust as he caught the fuckheads wandering the gym eyeing her before he stepped in their line of vision, Milan would physically place herself in front of his view, guiding his eyes to her and away from any girl delusional enough to think they were as bad as her.

But her mouth when she’s frustrated. That was something Rafe was gonna have to work on. Lucky for the both of them, a stern warning seemed to be enough for now. Rafe stalks over to where she’s sitting, stepping on the machine behind her and wrapping his hand loosely around her neck, pushing the back of her head to rest on the front of his stomach. Milan looks up at him through her lashes, as he pushes his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her mouth and squirting a little water in from his water bottle. He fixes her with a disapproving look. “Chill out. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“I followed you up here, right?”

“Yeah.” she says softly, leaning into his hand.

“Alright then. Let’s not worry about the wrong things.”

After 3 hours at the gym the two of them hit the showers, separately despite both of their hesitation to separate again. They walk out of the building in different clothes and Rafe’s arm strewn over Milan’s shoulder, holding her hand where it came up to meet his own. He has to hide his smirk when he catches her making eye contact with the girl who’d asked Rafe to spot her as they walked out, a bright smile on her face. 

He was starting to like this pretty little thing more and more. Rafe lifts her back into the car, this time buckling her seatbelt for her before getting into the driver’s side. He finds that Milan can talk…a lot. She has jumped from topic to topic in the 15 minute drive more than Rafe thinks he can in 2 hours. He’s surprised to find he doesn’t find her annoying. Rafe finds his cheeks dimpling as he listens to her yap about her favorite tv shows, a movie she wants him to watch, her plans for her next nails set and thinking about getting highlights in her hair.

All the while she rubs his bicep, leaning into him as he holds her thigh in his large hand. He offers her small mumbles of acknowledgement to let her know he’s still listening. ‘Hm.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Sound’s good, baby.’ 

“You’re not listening to me.” she sighs, looking out the window as they pull into the restaurant. “M’talkin’ too much.”

“Nah, I like that shit. I’d let you know if I’d had enough.” Rafe places his hand on the back of her headrest as he backs into the spot. “But, uh, my head’s always movin’ right? I’m thinkin’ while I listen.”

Milan watches as he shifts gears and places his truck in the middle of two spots, declaring under his breath he doesn’t want anyone ‘fuckin’ up his truck’ to justify taking up two spots. “So…okay. What’re you, like, thinking about? While you’re listening to me.”

“Uh, honestly?” He asks. Intense blue eyes rest on soft brown ones. Milan just nods, turning more toward him. “How fuckin’ hot you are. Pretty fuckin’ distracting.”

“Oh.” She says.

“Yeah. Oh. Does that throw you off or something, like, oh is a weird response-”

“No, I was just saying oh, like-”

“Okay, because, I’m being pretty fuckin’ clear and you’re-”

Milan unclips her seatbelt quickly. Before Rafe can blink her soft lips are pressed against his and before he can kiss her back she’s back in her seat, pulling down the mirror and fumbling in her purse for her lipgloss. “I wasn’t supposed to kiss you until our first date was over. I can’t believe I did that. Oh my God.” Rafe chuckles lowly as she fumbles in her purse, dropping it and spilling its contents all over her lap and the floor of the car. “Oh my God.”

“Did you, uh,” He pauses, trying not to openly bark out a laugh at her, scratching his head. “Did you only bring lip gloss and perfume? Like, no wallet. At all.”

“Okay…” Milan starts slowly, “I understand that looks bad, and like, people believe in that 50-50 stuff now, and so I shouldn’t-”

“Baby, the fuck do I look like? I wouldn’t be taking you out if I couldn’t afford to, I’m not a fuckin’ pogue.”

“A what?”

“Don’t worry about it. And don’t worry about that fuckin’ peck, that wasn’t a real kiss.” It shocks her how easy it is for Rafe to scoot his chair back and pull her into his lap. “This is the shit you should worry about.”

Rafe Cameron pulls Milan Cabot into the nastiest kiss that either of them had ever fantasized about, let alone experienced. He holds her jaw, working his own open as he pushes his tongue into her mouth, swallowing her whimpers and humming against her. He separates their mouths briefly to kiss down her neck only to drag back up to her lips, chuckling darkly when she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, gripping her thigh with his free hand as he drools into her open mouth. 

When he pulls away for the final time he rests his head back on the headrest, pushing his thumb into her mouth and releasing a breath as he watches her obediently suck on it. 

By the time they step out of the car to head into the nice breakfast restaurant he’d brought her to, Rafe had willed his…friend to go down, and they had undone the damage he’d done to Milan’s makeup and hair. As he guided her in by the waist, tugging down the hem of her pretty little dress to cover the ass he’d just been gripping he felt a feeling of superiority. The woman next to him was relying on him and him alone to lead her around. All the loser fuckers they passed on the way to their table could stare all they wanted. They could take a mental picture and store it away in their sick little spank banks for later until they came to the realization they’d never get a girl like Milan and finally blew their fucking brains out. But she was here with Rafe. And that’s how he expected it to be from here on out.

He’d decided. She was gonna be his.

[local-lamppost]

Initial thoughts cause it's 4am

Spoilers

First off, wow... it's really good. I've been saying that if season 2 is as good as season 1 Arcane would be my new favorite show and we are on track. Anyway, just gonna list stuff until I can process/rewatch a billion times

Mel lived! I was so certain that they would just kill her off, make that Ambessa's motive (give Jayce a reason to keep fighting the Undercity) but it's much more interesting keeping her involved in the narrative. Love her trying to bother understand and undermine her mother. Those Black Rose guys best not have hurt a hair on her perfect head.

Speaking of. What in the Utena are these Black Rose magic people? I love the look of their magic. I wonder how they can corrupt people. Is it a spell? Do they slip them something?

Love how the divide of Jayce and Viktor was done. Jayce betrayed Viktor's wishes of destroying the Hexcore. Last season, Viktor wanted to forget about using the core to save himself after Sky and begged Jayce to destroy it when the core wouldn't allow Viktor himself to do it. In Jayce's mind though, the core is the solution to Viktor's problems. He didn't know it killed Sky or that it can influence Viktor, but all Viktor can comprehend is that Jayce didn't trust him. Didn't keep his promise. And this is fresh off of Jayce's season 1 antics against the Undercity, so Viktor's faith in his partner was already shaken. Viktor's also comfortable in his mortality/death, even though he wants to prolong it like every other human, but Jayce can't fathom loosing Viktor-the man who saved his life and made his dreams reality.

(Side note: Am I a JayVik shipper? I never considered myself one, but after writing this...)

JINX HAS A KID! I love this choice. Give Jinx a kid so she is able to learn what Silco and Vi had to go through with her, that no matter how big or dangerous a scheme to take this child into account. The confrontation in ep 3 really showed what Jinx will have to consider now that this kid's decided to adopt her as an older sister or something. Especially nice detail of how Vi-who has always had to consider the kids in her life-immediately stops fighting and starts looking for ways to keep the kid safe.

I was wondering how Jinx would loose a finger and Caitlyn shooting it off to save Vi is just- The fact that the only way these two can show they care about Vi when it comes to each other is by hurting the other.

Sevika's new arm is fantastic. It's a peace offering from Jinx, but also a way for Jinx to feel better (it was something she could fix). The mechanics of it are really fun. It reminds me of Kite's weapon from HxH with how it didn't always work/give her what she wanted in the fight. I especially love the victory rockets and built in theme song.

Ambessa is so interesting. Between her character song to the introduction of just what she is fighting against, I am very intrigued. She reminds me of Cersei Lannister, except she loves her kids as more than just extensions of herself (as of what we've seen, but I think that'll stick). Her using Salo to establish herself-which also keeps Mel safe by distancing her-but also dropping him in order to prop up Cait at her first opportunity is such a clever move. She truly is the fox and the wolf, but she is above all a mama bear.

Not much to say about Heimerdinger or Ekko yet, but I am definitely curious to see what they do about the wild runes with Jayce. The three of them have a fun dynamic, what with Heimerdinger still being peeved about magic/being ousted, Ekko hating topside and having a new reason to do so with them poisoning his tree, and Jayce being recently seperated and divorced from both his partners.

Vi is an enforcer. I didn't know how they were gonna handle this, but they did it so well. Of course she wants to fix things for the people her sister hurt. She feels responsible. She can say she doesn't blame herself, but how true is that? Why else would she be wearing a badge if not for her guilt? She is desperate to do something right and being an enforcer seemed to be a way to make Cait happy, get her gauntlets (what she believes is necessary to make any kind of change), and be first in line in the hunt for Jinx. She says that her sister is dead, that Jinx is a desecration to Powder's memory, that they are not sisters but isn't it supposed to be 'nothing is going to change that'? How much of all this is just something Vi is telling herself to keep going? Cait is her motive right now, but after ep 3 I definitely see why she starts spiraling.

(2 Side note: Her new best friend/drinking buddy is such a real one. They have a bender in the gutter together and now he's following her into and out of the enforcers. I wonder if he knew Vander? In any case, he is a delight.)

Cait and Vi kissed... CAIT AND VI KISSED! Then NOTHING HAPPENED AFTER! NOTHING! No immediate break up, nope.

So Cait. I love Cait and I am hyped for her arc this season. I am ready to fight tooth and nail for her. I am a Caitlyn defender. So what she's being manipulated into leading a military state due to her grief/unresolved anger/guilt/Ambessa being better at this than her, she looks amazing in her cape. It balances.

Seriously though, the writing for Cait especially is so solid. She is desperate to hold herself and her family together, to protect her city. She still wants to protect the innocent, to heal the Undercity, but her anger at a select few of those she wants to help is clouding the greater image for her. Vi seems to be acting as her better half, the side that cares for the innocent-the protector. Ambessa is the agressor, encouraging Cait to take drastic military action against the Undercity as a whole. Vi's disillusionment with Cait is due to the fact that Cait desire to heal, not harm, is what caused her to fall for Cait to begin with. To see more than some privileged topside enforcer, but a woman who genuinely cared and was willing to abandon her peaceful naivety to learn for the greater good of strangers.

I'll also point out that they separate when Cait starts blaming Vi for them loosing Jinx. Before, everyone but Cait put responsibility on Vi, she was supposed to be the one to help lighten the load and absolve some of the guilt. Now Cait is becoming another one of those who slam the blame on Vi. She changed. Why does everyone around VI change?

Can't wait for the next batch of episodes.

[dream-your-own-way]

Tom Riddle || “sundays are for missing him”

summary: once hopelessly in love with Tom, reader is now left with nothing but memories of their love, and their special Sundays together. Reader! Narration basically. She’s reminiscing.

Warnings: none really, slight mention of toxic relationship (it’s Tom), sad ending :(

Pairing: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

On Sundays I miss him a little extra. They used to be reserved for us, you see? It started as a tradition back at school when we first got together, we’d spent Sundays glued to each tohers side from morning till after dinner time. There were no other friends, no knights, no duties. Just us. We would study, explore the grounds together, read against a tree by the Black Lake (he’d glare at anyone who dared to even came close to where we were sitting). Most of the warmer months were spent there, with my head on his lap as he read whichever book held his obsession for the week, and other times we’d switch, his head on my lap as I read the latest murder mystery book I had recently bought. And of course, the bloody genius he was is, would always solve the murder before the end of the book (though my fondest memories were of us both trying to solve a particularly hard one together) His handsome face frowning is we’d gotten it wrong, furiously claiming that his ending made much better sense - or his lips would curl up into a smug victory smirk if we’d gotten it right, then we’d share a victory song. His head always stayed on my lap for much longer after finishing the book.

On the colder months, we usually spent it at the Room of Requirement, exclusive to us at the time when no one else was aware of its existence. Whenever we stepped into the room, it’d transform into a beautiful and cozy flat looking space, with a big, green, canopy bed at the center, in front of the big fireplace, sporting a luxurious green comforter and several pillows (my doing which always seemed to annoy him whenever we had to stop making out and sweep the pillows onto the floor). On the left side, behind a screen, a decent sized bathtub took up room, where we’d spend hours relaxing and cuddling. A large fluffy rug covered the right part of the room, where a plush green velvet sofa and a couple armchairs sat by a large bookshelf filled with many books, manuscripts and trinkets, next to it a small radio playing 30’s and 40’s music, sometimes pausing to broadcast news about the wars (muggle and Wizarding). On the left side of the room, two work desks were placed in front of one other and, as always, a large stash of sweets piled up neatly on my own desk.

There, we’d spent hours and hours reading, chatting, making love and studying. It was almost as if we had our own home together inside the castle, in there were truly a couple, certainly arguing like an old married one, and hungry for each other as if we were newlyweds. A million secrets, promises of love, sweet nothings and plans were shared in our lovely sanctuary.

After graduation, our tradition continued. I moved in with him quickly to his family’s ancestral home, a manor in the muggle village of Little Hangleton. When he turned 18 he had been able to claim he was the son of the recently deceased Tom Riddle Senior (the similarities between him and his late father were undeniable, even to the old stuffy muggle lawyer) so the inheritance passed on to him, including the manor. But there we had grounds to explore, a small lake at the edge of the property to relax by and make love without the fear of being discovered. It was truly heaven on earth, until he started to change. Until the horcruxes they changed him. The love of my life gone in what seemed to be a blink of an eye (though in truth were many months of tears and heartbreak on my part) and what remained of him simply a dark shadow of the man he used to be. Promises of loved turned into indifference, coldness and empty looks. No proposals, no rings, no weddings, not even ‘I love yous’ were exhanged near the end. Just silent tears on my side of the bed, and impatient sighs once he heard them.

Now, after all is said and done, I can only look back at those memories with fondness and longing. Unable to stop missing the man he once was. As he vanished on a foggy April night to an unknown location in the country of Albania, I find myself in America 10 months later, left with a newborn son who has his father’s eyes, and the memories of what once was.

A/N: Omg!! This is the first fic I’ve ever posted on here! This is based on my script if I ever manage to shift (lol) also inspired by So Long London, by Taylor Swift. English isn’t my first language. Hope you enjoyed :) please be kind. Grammar corrections welcome, just hit me up on my dms :)