#like honestly waiting to finish it before really looking in the tags was the wildest choice to make because W O W

[glompcat]

I'm sorry, but it is so fucking funny to see people out themselves as entirely going off of third hand misinformation when decrying what they imagine was in a TV show they did not watch.

[myaekingheart]

20 [Fanfic Writer] Questions Game

Thank you so much for tagging me, @lemony-snickers! This is tons of fun, I love answering these kinds of big questionnaires 😂💕 Also putting mine under a cut because there’s a lot of questions and I like to ramble. 

Also gonna go ahead and just tag whoever wants to do this! 😅💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

As of August 27, 2021, I have a total of 77 works on my AO3! 

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Funny enough, I was just looking at this, specifically, earlier today and kind of laughing about it. Right now, my total word count across all my works is 1,148,941 😬 

3. How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Apparently 12, but some of them I don’t really consider “big” in my fandom repertoire. Naruto is my greatest fandom with a total of 60 fics so far, followed by The Chronicles of Narnia and Rise of the Guardians. The rest are ones I either did crossover fics with or just did one-off little pieces with--The Incredibles, Tangled, Brave, How to Train Your Dragon, Arthurian Mythology, Disney Princesses, Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms, Back to the Future, and Frozen. 

4. What are your Top Five fics by kudos?

The Scarecrow and The Bell (Naruto) - 470 kudos The Day Kakashi’s Mask Slipped (Naruto) - 139 kudos Sunflowers (Naruto) - 92 kudos Sakumo the House Husband (Naruto) - 81 kudos Someone to Lean On (Naruto) - 67 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments, because I like to acknowledge when people respond to my work. I cherish comments like nobody’s business, especially when they’re kind and reactionary. I just really love seeing/hearing what people think of the way a story is progressing, or what they thought of a one-shot. Comments keep me going especially when it comes to longfic so I want to be able to let readers know that I do in fact see their comments, that I’m acknowledging what they’re saying, and that I appreciate them. Plus, it can be kind of fun to tease upcoming events in a fic through responses to people’s comments, too. Because I’m mean. 

6. What fic have you written with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Hothouse (Rise of the Guardians/The Incredibles; Jack Frost x Violet Parr; American Horror Story AU). This was the first multi-chaptered fic I ever wrote to completion and I honestly cringe when I remember it exists both because it’s so poorly organized (and full of nasty plot holes) and because I just went ham on the gore factor. It definitely has a really bittersweet and heartbreaking ending to it, too. 

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I think I’ll definitely have to say Temptation. The story itself was kind of a ride, and it’s only the first installment in a series, but it follows the plot of The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe but remixed due to the presence of an original character, but the ending is still roughly the same as the original: they defeat the evil, the Pevensies are all crowned kings and queens, happy days. Reading the last few paragraphs of the last chapter honestly still gets me all up in my feelings. 

8. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I used to be more of a crossover writer due to one of my main ships being a crossover ship. They weren’t super crazy, though, because they were both CGI-animated films. The craziest crossover I’ve ever written is an in-progress/unfinished multichapter piece, Kakashi, Enchanted, that sees our favorite Copy Ninja get kamui’d into the Disney princess dimension and has to help the likes of Snow White, Cinderella, and Rapunzel on his journey to find a way back to his own world. It’s a super weird premise but definitely one of my more lighthearted works and fun to revisit when I need to decompress. 

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t think I’ve ever received hate so much as I’ve received criticism. The closest I ever got to hate on a fic, I think, was someone left an overly personal and mentally disturbed comment on a chapter of my main fic that made me convinced they needed to seek therapy and deal with their own personal issues rather than take it out on a fanfic about animated ninjas. 

10. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Maybe 👀 I’m super vanilla when it comes to smut, though. I think the wildest thing I’ve ever written in smut is breeding kink. 

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of, and I hope I never will. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet! I had someone ask to translate a one-shot of mine in Russian but I never got a response back when I laid out my terms and conditions. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not! I used to do paragraph-style roleplay which was kind of like cowriting fanfiction but writing is so personal and sacred to me that I don’t know if I could ever actually cowrite a fic with someone. I like brainstorming with other people, but writing for me is more of a deeply personal and independent endeavour. 

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh god, this is a tricky question because it depends on fandom. I absolutely love New Dream (Rapunzel x Eugene, Tangled) and have for the past ten years, and my love for them as only grown since watching Tangled: The Series/Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure. I don’t write or even really read a ton of fanfiction for them, though. I’m also still highly dedicated to my favorite crossover crackship, Frostfield (Jack Frost x Violet Parr, Rise of the Guardians/The Incredibles) and to this day, if you search for that ship on AO3, I am the sole provider of every single fic about them so far. I’m not as active with them as I used to be, but they got me through some really rough times back in the day and still mean so much to me. A lot of my favorite ships across fandoms, though, are honestly canon x OC ships of mine because I am a self-indulgent bitch who needs to project. So Peter Pevensie x Eilonwy (The Chronicles of Narnia) and Kakashi Hatake x Rei Natsuki (Naruto) are really important to me and I’ve poured so much of myself specifically into their stories. I think it’s safe to say Kakashi and Rei is my all-time favorite ship across all fandoms, though, just because of how much their story means to me. The Scarecrow and The Bell is my magnum opus, my pride and joy, and I’m sure it will be my biggest fandom footprint of my entire life. I’ve dedicated the past three years to this story and these characters and I intend to continue doing it until it no longer brings me joy (which I hope it always will). There’s just so much I could say about this story and Kakashi and Rei’s relationship but I don’t think we have enough time or space in this post for that 😅 Just know that they mean the world to me and I will always hold them in the highest regard as a beautifully messy, flawed, passionate, soulmate-y ship that I love with all of my heart 🥺

EDIT: I also feel obligated to tack on some of my absolute favorite Naruto ships because I may not have written for all of them (yet) but they still make me unbelievably happy or I find them really compelling and enjoy the idea of exploring them: 

Naruhina is precious happy sunshine and The Last honestly felt like a wonderful Disney princess movie to me, it was so cute and the romance was so on-point, Naruhina just makes me so incredibly happy and I love them with all my heart. 

MinaKushi also gets me all up in my feels and I adore them with every fiber of my being. Their romance also gave me Disney princess movie vibes which I love, their story is just so damn sweet as is their character dynamic and I am still so heartbroken that they never got to be a happy family with Naruto because you know what? It’s what they deserved!

SasuSaku is so compelling to me and I really feel like we were cheated out of seeing their relationship develop and evolve postwar in the same way The Last did for Naruhina. They’re my favorite angst ship and while I don’t think they were written that well in canon, I love the possibility and potential of them together and am excited to explore them more in-depth in my own writing. 

NejiTen is just too cute, I really love the way Neji and Tenten’s personalities compliment each other? I don’t have much else to say about them except that I really love them together and think they have so much untapped potential that I also can’t wait to explore in more depth in my own writing. 

15. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Paper Hearts and Impromptu Bookmarks, probably. I love the premise of this story a lot and I have so many interesting ideas for it but at the same time, it also feels kind of cheap and cringey to me, in a way? It takes all of these ideas I probably would have had if I had been into Naruto when I was a kid and kind of compiles them all into one big story. Kakashi and Aiko’s relationship and story is still really important to me and I want to continue it someday but for right now, I just haven’t had the motivation or desire to write any more of it. I think I’m just so overwhelmingly preoccupied with writing Kakashi and Rei’s story that I can’t imagine writing any other Kakashi x OC fics right now. 

16. What are your writing strengths?

I want to say that I’m really good at capturing complex emotion? I don’t know, I write a lot of angst and mental upheaval in my fics which can be really difficult to try and capture, but I think I do a decent enough job of it? And just writing difficult subjects in general. I think it’s really important to address difficult topics such as mental illness and relationship difficulties and everything but I also want to try and write those topics in a way that is both authentic to the experience while also still tasteful. I don’t want to drive readers away with heavy subject matter but rather present a situation that feels real and authentic while also still being digestible. I may not be doing a very good job of that during the current arc of my fic that I’m working on, but I’m trying haha

EDIT 2: I also want to add onto this to say that I’m really proud of my organizational techniques for writing longfic. It’s not necessarily a strength in terms of the prose itself but it’s something that’s taken me years to really get a grasp on and find a method that works perfectly for me and so far, it’s been extremely helpful and beneficial to me. I don’t know where I would be now as a writer without these essential tools in my pocket. 

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I feel like I do a really bad job of the “show, don’t tell” thing. It can be really hard to balance descriptive prose with straightforward writing that moves things along. I don’t want to dwell on mental dialogue to the point where you lose track of what’s going on, but I also don’t want my stuff to read like “Character A did xyz. Character B said abc. They went to 123″, whatever. Another thing I struggle with is sentence variation. I always fall into the same patterns when I’m writing prose and I get really self-conscious about it because I don’t want to sound repetitive or disrupt the flow of the writing. One of my favorite things about prose is focusing on the cadence of the words, I think it’s one of the most beautiful things about writing in general, but it can just be really difficult to get a good grip on that. I’ve been told in the past that I apparently have a really good grasp/control of the language or whatever but sometimes I just find that really hard to believe when I look at my work with such scrutiny. I think one of my biggest pet peeves with my own writing, too, is feeling like I start all of my sentences the same five different ways. I’ll read other people’s works and they’ll write sentences like “Glass-blue water lapped against the shores of a deserted beach as a lonely woman gazed off into the distance” and I can just never figure out how to realistically write sentences that start like that in the context of my prose and it drives me fucking crazy, like I’m definitely jealous  😅

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ve never really thought much about it before, but I think there are pros and cons! For bilingual/multilingual readers, I think it can be a really enriching reading experience because they know what’s being said in both languages. For people who only know one language, however, unless a translation is provided, I feel like it can be really alienating. I think the best use of that for both worlds is using it as a means for miscommunication humor. Other than that, I think it can be a slippery slope that depends on what kind of reader you are and how it’s written. 

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The Chronicles of Narnia! My very first fanfiction was a Narnia fanfic that I barely remember except that it laid the basis for Temptation and my Narnia fanfic series as a whole. I never posted this first iteration anyway, but I remember it was 2008/2009 and I wrote a solid 80 pages (which was wild for me at the time) and had gotten halfway through remixing the events of Prince Caspian when my computer crashed and I lost absolutely everything. I’m still heartbroken that it’s gone forever, not because I’d want to go back and read it necessarily (since I’m sure it was actually hot garbage) but at least for nostalgia’s sake. Either way, like I said, this long-lost fic laid the basis for the very first fanfiction I ever posted, the first published (and never finished) iteration of Temptation back in 2011 on deviantART and the since-defunct Figment. I fell out of the fandom around 2012/2013 and left the story alone for a while before ultimately deciding to completely redux and rewrite the story when the fixation swung back around again between 2016 and 2018. 

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Despite the fact that it’s still in-progress, definitely The Scarecrow and The Bell. This fic just genuinely means so damn much to me and I will cherish it for the rest of my life because of how much it’s given me, how much love and passion and time and even parts of myself that I have poured into this, and also just how expansive of a story this is. Not only does it touch on some very dark and heavy topics, but I’ve also created so much of my own characters and meta for this story that it’s almost an entire universe in and of itself. I’ve just contributed so much additional world-building and created so many new OCs to fill important roles in this story and in Rei’s life, and they’ve all become so deeply important to me as they’ve developed further over the years. I’ve come up with so many interesting ideas for everyone and their lives, which are all slowly becoming so rich and varied. Not to mention that it’s my most popular fic to date as well as my longest fic at 632k and counting. I’ve really just genuinely poured so much of my heart and soul into this story, it’s my absolute favorite thing I’ve ever done and I really mean it when I say that I will cherish it for the rest of my life. 

[wrenhyperfixates]

Yule Log

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: With Christmas quickly approaching, Loki finds himself missing his favorite time on Asgard. If he can’t go back home to celebrate, you’re determined to bring the party to him. Warnings: just the tiniest bit angsty, but mainly just fluff. And a lot of kissing A/N: We’re already halfway through December, can you believe it? To continue the spread of holiday cheer, please enjoy my latest fic! Happy reading :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @thelokiimaginechroniclesficrecs​ @gaitwae

Disclaimer: Gif not mine 

“Thank you for coming,” you said to some of the last guests as they made their way out into the chilly night air.

Being Tony’s personal assistant was no easy feat, and sometimes it meant you had to be in full work mode at parties rather than being able to let loose. So many times your boyfriend tried to pull you away from all the seriousness, but you would only be able to enjoy a dance or two before having to do something else. It was yet another reason why Loki was not a fan of Stark’s shindigs.

“Darling,” he called as you made your way back into the room. “Come sit with me now?”

“I can’t. There’s still people here.”

“And they are occupied talking to Stark and Captain Rogers,” he pouted. “Certainly you can rest for a minute. You deserve it, after all.”

“Ok, I guess,” you replied, walking over. He pulled you down onto his lap before you could change your mind, kissing you quickly but passionately. “Well if that’s what you mean by rest, I would have stopped working hours ago.”

“Duly noted,” he said, nuzzling into your neck, enjoying your scent. “I will be sure to be more specific next time.”

You giggled against his lips as he kissed you again. The whole scene was picturesque, really. Sitting with your boyfriend on the couch, a tree in the background, snow falling outside, and a fire crackling nearby; it was like something right out of a painting. Or maybe a dream. Then again, that’s how you felt about every second you spent with Loki.

Just when you were getting settled against him, your boss called your name, and waved you over with a smile. He probably needed you for another scheduling problem. At least you would be getting a break for Christmas soon. You sighed and pecked Loki on the cheek, wiggling out of his grip, much to his protest. With a promise to meet him in your shared room as soon as you finished up with the last few guests, he let you go.

Roughly half an hour later, you were stumbling into your quarters, feet sore and eyes tired. Walking into your bedroom to change, you saw Loki standing by the window, his shirt in his hands as if he just forgot what he was doing halfway through changing. You hugged him from behind, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades. His hand immediately alighted on your arm and began rubbing slow circles on your skin. You’d noticed he did that anytime he was pensive or working through a lot of emotions.

“Hey, are you ok? Do you need to talk?” you asked.

“I am alright, my angel. You need not worry,” he told you, turning around to hug you and kissing your forehead gently. “Now, I believe we were going to watch a movie.”

You frowned at the way he changed the topic, but decided not to push the subject. You could always try again in the morning, but you didn’t want to make him talk if he didn’t feel like it. You got changed while Loki set up the film, something he was still very proud that he’d learned how to do. Settling on the couch, Loki rested his head on your lap, and you played with his hair as Rudolph began to play on the TV.

You looked down at the beautiful god, wondering what was going through that beautiful mind of his. There was no doubt in your mind; you loved Loki. The thing was that he could be so guarded sometimes that you felt left out. Like he was keeping things from you. It was more out of concern for him that it made you worry, not because you didn’t trust him. In fact, you trusted him with your life. You only wished that he would do the same with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you woke up in the bed, wrapped in Loki’s arms. You didn’t quite remember getting off of the couch last night, and you knew Loki must have carried you after you fell asleep. His eyes were on you, as you laid there. You could feel his loving gaze even before opening your eyes. You liked to do that sometimes, pretend like you were still asleep and bask in the joy of Loki admiring you. Whether or not he told you everything, he obviously adored you, and this was a nice reminder of that. Though, now that you thought about the issue of communication, you cracked open your eyes, determined to get him to tell you what is wrong.

“Good morning, darling,” he said, smiling warmly at you. “I love you.”

It always made you flustered when Loki told you that so soon after waking, like it was the most important thing. Like he had to make sure you knew before anything else happened. Before you could even get up most days, he was saying those words. They always made you snuggle further into your chest, resolving to stay in bed a bit longer, rather than getting up and starting your duties for that day.

“Morning, Loki. I love you too.”

Still laying together in a tangle of limbs, the two of you chatted for a bit longer, and you were carefully working your way up to the question you wanted to ask. It was a delicate topic, for sure, but maybe he’d be soft enough after all the pillow talk to share.

“Loki, can I ask you a question? And can you answer me honestly?” you asked.

“Of course. I will do my best, my angel.”

You frowned a little at the response, but plowed on anyway. “Last night you were upset about something. What was it? You know I worry about you. It’s ok, you can tell me.”

“Well,” he sighed. “It is nothing much, really. It is just with all these Christmas festivities, I am reminded of my mother’s favorite celebration. The winter solstice ball was always around this time. She loved planning the Yule celebrations. It was why she put up with the planning of every other ball, just so she could do this one. It was always the most fun, for her love of the holiday shone through every minute detail of the day.”

You looked at features, peaceful and happy, a small smile tugging at his lips. You wanted to be happy for him, too, but it made your heart break as you read deeper into what he was saying. It wasn’t just the holiday he was upset over.

“Oh, Loki. You miss your mother,” you cooed as he sadly nodded.

“It is nothing you need worry yourself over, really.”

“Yes, Loki, I do. Because I love you. If you’re allowed to worry over me, I can over you, too.”

“That is... fair,” he conceded, though he was frowning a little. “So what are you going to do? Nothing too over the top, I hope.”

“I’m not exactly sure yet, but I’ll start with this,” you admitted, cupping his cheek and kissing him. You started on his lips, but then moved to placing little pecks all over his face. His smile had returned by the time you finished. “Better?”

“Much,” he confessed as he pulled you closer, earning a giggle. “But you are not done trying to fix this, are you?”

“Not even close.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later you were setting up the common room for a solstice party, much like the Asgardian ballroom would be looking soon. You’d asked Thor more about how the holiday was celebrated on his home planet and, together with the rest of the Avengers, you were getting ready to surprise Loki. Though you had Bucky and Peter keeping him busy and out of the way right now, you were sure that Loki suspected something was up.

“Are you sure this is everything Thor?” you nervously questioned, giving the room a once-over. “Everything has to be perfect.”

“Do not worry, my friend. You were very thorough.”

After combing through your notes one last time, just to make sure there wasn’t anything you were missing, you called Peter and Bucky to bring Loki back. In true surprise party fashion, you turned the lights off and got into hiding places. When he walked in, you all jumped up and screamed “Happy Yule.” For a second he didn’t move, and the silence was kind of awkward as he stood there with a sort of stunned but otherwise unreadable expression on his face. Finally, he gently said your name.

“You don’t like it, do you?” you said, feeling like you might cry.

“Like it? No, no, I do not. Darling,” he said, shaking his head before breaking out into a huge grin and crushing you in a hug, using his godly strength to pick you up and spin you around. “I love it! I was certain you had some trick up your sleeve, but this? This is beyond my wildest imagination. It is perfect! Thank you, love.”

“Really?” you squealed in excitement. “Loki, that means so much to me.”

“And the fact that you went through all this trouble means so much to me.”

He kissed you then, not caring about the reaction from the rest of the Avengers, which was a mix of whoops and groans. Even when you broke away from each other, you still stood there for a minute, just gazing at each other. The look in your eyes said everything that words couldn’t.

“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let us party,” Loki announced.

He swept you onto the dance floor as the music began to play, enjoying waltzing amongst your friends. After a few songs, you led him over to the thrones at the front of the room. He nearly cried tears of joy when you said it was for him. Long ago, he’d given up on the notion that he’d rule, let go of the desire to do so. He did not need it if he was king of your heart. But to be offered one, even just for the night, it meant more to him than he knew how to express.

It was late into the night after a number of Avengers had moved past tipsy and into drunk, when Loki asked you take a walk with him. You bundled up before stepping into the cold night air, but afraid of his little mortal catching a cold, Loki draped an extra cloak on your shoulders. It was so soft you wondered if he’d cast some kind of spell on it. He took your hand and led you away from the Tower and into the city, lit up even more than normal by all the Christmas decorations. Eventually, you reached Central Park, and Loki slowed to a stop so he could cup your cheeks and kiss you yet again that night. You lost yourself in him, losing track of time as you stood there, lips locked together. When you finally separated, he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“My sweetest angel, thank you so much for cheering me up,” he said.

“It was no problem. It was totally worth it to see you so happy. Did I miss anything that you were looking forward to?”

“Darling, you simply must stop worrying yourself. The party was amazing.”

“But?”

“Did it sound like there was a 'but' coming? I assure you, you have done everything perfectly.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just feel in my gut that there’s something missing, and I know you won’t tell me of your own accord. Please, Loki, if there’s something else, let me know.”

“Admittedly, there is one other thing I miss. But you have done more than enough already.”

“Will you please stop that?” you snapped a little, surprising the god. “Stop pushing your feelings aside, especially with me. I care about you, ok? I want to trouble myself with what’s bothering you. Because if we deal with it together, it’s not so hard for either of us. We love each other, Loki, I know that. So just open up. Tell me.”

“Are you done?” he inquired with an impressed and amused smirk as you nodded, a little flustered and embarrassed after your outburst. “Good.”

Once more, Loki kissed you, catching you completely by surprise. Usually he liked to show his love through little things, but tonight he couldn’t seem to keep his lips off yours. Not that you were complaining, of course. The displays of affection were certainly as welcome out in public as they behind closed doors. You tenderly caressed his cheek and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes.

“The Yule log,” he said. “It was the one night a year I felt like we were truly a family. Father, mother, Thor, and I would sit around the fire into the late hours of the night, laughing and telling stories.” He zoned out for a second and you let him reminisce before continuing. “I remember when I was just a small child, father even let me fall asleep on his lap sometimes. And then as we got older and things became more tense, there was still always that night.”

“Loki,” you whispered, “that’s lovely. I would love to light a Yule log for our little family, if you’ll allow it.”

“I would love nothing more, my angel.”

Then you excitedly whisked him back to the Tower, where you promptly told everyone the plan. They gathered around, and Loki conjured a log which you lit together. You snuggled with your prince in an oversized chair, safely tucked under his arm.

“My angel,” he whispered, “I really cannot thank you enough. And I vow to be more open with you from now on. Because I trust you and love you more than anything else in the Nine Realms and beyond.”

“You’re welcome, Loki. I love you, too, though I never could say it as eloquently as you can,” you chuckled. “Happy Yule, my love.”

“Happy Yule, darling.”

You began to doze off against his side. Loki listened to the conversation and laughter flowing all around him. Soon, everyone followed your lead and began drifting off to sleep. He smiled as he realized he got to keep his favorite tradition of sitting around the Yule log with his family, after all.

“Happy Yule, mother,” he whispered into the night before falling asleep, too.

[randomoranges]

the majority of the first part of this fic is based on a real thing that happened to me and my students yesterday

i applaud their ease at which all of this happened.

The Kids are All Right

 “M Édouard, est-ce que tu veux jouer avec nous?”

 It’s Friday afternoon and the first nice day of the week. The weather has been miserable, but luckily, he didn’t have to deal with indoor recess this time around. The group finishes in English class and he’s quite honestly killing time before he can leave them with their English teacher. He could have planned something exciting and fun, or ploughed on with another lesson, but he’s exhausted and doesn’t want to fight them. They’ve been – more rambunctious than usual these past two weeks and he’s been snappier with them than usual. He wonders if it’s the new seating arrangement or the coming of spring, but he’s counting down the days to the end of the school year and murmuring it like a mantra to himself on various occasions throughout the day.

 Still. Moments like these bring the smallest of smiles to his face.

 He likes to watch the kids play during recess, when he’s not aimlessly walking, and daydreaming about any other job he could have taken that wouldn’t be so taxing. This afternoon is one of those occasions. Most of the boys are on one end of the playground, playing a rather intense game of soccer, while the majority of the girls have been playing some invented game with a jump rope. The others are spread around; some are playing pear ball, others are sitting in clusters, but it’s nice to see that all the kids are hanging out with another kid and that no one is alone.

 He figures he can play with the girls this time around.

 Every now and again, he plays with the kids – when they ask him to, obviously and it’s a free bonding moment with them. He’s played some intense soccer and basket ball games, has played every version of tag and other such games, has learned to be decent at pear ball and he’s even been known to play hopscotch and jump rope. The kids love it. He also loves it.

 He nods and his student excitedly yells out “M Édouard va jouer!” which is greeted by loud cheers by the other girls. He gets a quick run through of the game; the person in the middle makes the jump rope go round, the others are gathered in a circle around it and they need to jump when the rope gets close to them. If the rope touches them, they need to tell a truth about themselves. Easy enough, really. He’s encountered multiple versions of this same game over the years.

 He offers to be the spinner, since the student who’d been doing it before had been struggling with the rope and the kids are delighted to let him have a go about it.

 The girls show no mercy when one of them gets touched by the rope and the questions they ask are harmless in nature; do you have a crush on anyone, what’s the most embarrassing thing you ever did, which of your siblings is your favourite, and so on. He politely reminds them that they’re not obliged to answer a question if they feel uncomfortable, and overall, everyone seems to have fun.

 On the fifth or sixth turn, the rope stops at a different student and the other girls flock around her chanting “Vé-ri-té! Vé-ri-té!” He joins them in, clapping his hands to the rhythm of the words and finally she gets them to stop as she thinks up of a truth to tell them, or be placed at the mercy of the counsel of questions.

 Finally, she graces them all with her truth, as the others wait with baited breaths, “Chuis bi,” She says easy as all else and the rest of the girls roll their eyes, laugh, and groan, complaining about how they all already knew.

 He’s – surprised by this. By the ease of the way she’s said her truth, but also by how not a big deal it seemed to be. He wonders, briefly, if it has anything to do with the talk he’s had with them earlier that week – about gender and sexual identities and such. Still, he marvels at the situation and it takes him a moment to recover, thinking of his own childhood and how long it had taken him to come to terms with his own sexuality. The fear he’d had. The anxiety it had produced. (And the relief, afterwards, when his parents hadn’t booted him out of their home.)  

 “Merci de nous avoir partager ça,” He says, because even if his fifth graders might not understand the full scope of it, he still wants them to feel that he accepts them as they are. He reminds them that they don’t have to share everything with him – or the others, but that if they do, he appreciates it and that he is someone they can come to and trust.

 Then, within the same breath, before they can start the game again, another one of the girls admits to being bi as well. Again, the rest of the girls react much of the same way; they laugh, they say they already knew, and they move on and it flummoxes him. He thinks back to being eleven himself and never in his wildest dreams would he have felt such ease in admitting something.

 Edward briefly wonders if maybe, just maybe, it has to do with the fact that they are girls and not boys. He knows it’s not the best way to think about it, but he feels that girls might have it just a little bit easier – with each other and their friend circle, whereas the boys – especially his boys this year, are still very much immature and very centered on the idea of being a Real Man (whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.)

 Or maybe these students are just more open and more aware of themselves. It’s a better thought to have. He knows the discourse has changed, even if it isn’t perfect. There are now queer characters in media and literature that were very much absent in his day and age. Celebrities – young celebrities just a little older than his kids are using social media platforms to talk of their own experiences and doing their own coming outs and maybe that’s also helped make these terms less loaded.

 There has to be some good out of it, after all. It can’t all be about cyber bullying and fraud.

 Still, he makes it a point to remind them that they don’t have to “come out” to everyone just because and that it’s okay if they don’t want to tell people. They don’t own it to no one. They nod along and humour him and he wants to sit them down and tell them that no, he’s serious and that sometimes it’s not this easy. He should know. But – maybe it is this easy for them. Maybe it has become this easy for the new generation despite what he still hears on the news. Maybe, thanks to the new generation, different orientations will finally no longer be some big taboo and the world can be a better place.

 Maybe he’s still dreaming, but – it’s a nice hope to have. If anything, he can hope and appreciate that these two students seem to be very comfortable with themselves and for that, he’s happy. If they can have an easy ride of it, why the hell not.

 He leaves it at that and the game runs its course for a while longer, until recess comes to its end.

 “M Édouard, dites-nous une vérité!” One of the girls asks as they line up to go back inside. He laughs and stalls for a moment. Some part of him wants to share as well – tell them through his truth that they are not alone and that he’s gay. It would be easy, really, and he’d be an ally to them, or something – he’s not sure, but he likes that it’s not some convoluted over-thought process like most of all the other times he’s come out in his life. Thinking back to how casual the others were with their friends telling them, he figures they wouldn’t turn on him. They’d be surprised, probably, but – it’d be fine – he hopes.

 He opens his mouth to say it – to casually let them know that he’s gay, but then the words falter and die at the back of his throat; shrivel up as bile forms instead. He chokes over them and that same old fear creeps back in. He sighs, frustrated with himself. It’s not that the kids need to know, but part of him yearns to share and to show them that it’s okay to be like this – that they can lead successful lives while being themselves. Yet, even if these students would be okay with it, he fears they’d share the news and spread it – that it would then reach the ears of someone else, who would tell their parents, who would get upset, who would tell the school and ultimately, that he’d get fired and dragged through the mud.

 He doesn’t have the energy for that. Not now. And the fear ices his veins and suddenly, the pleasant mood from before is gone.

 The kids look at him, waiting for an answer.

 “Quand j’étais jeune, j’voulais être un astronaute.”

 It’s not a lie, but it feels like he’s just done them a great disservice. They don’t realise it and some other kid pipes up saying they too wanted to be an astronaut when they were seven, while another rattles off the name of a few astronauts they know. The moment passes, the kids move on to the next thing as they file back in and Edward breathes a little easier, even though the disappointment weighs him down. This could have been a great teaching moment and he’d let it slip through his fingers.

 He trickles in after them and tries not to over think it too much. After all, hadn’t he just reminded his students that they don’t have to tell other people about their sexual orientation if they didn’t want to? The same should apply to him, even if...

 Instead, he focuses on the fact that two of his students felt comfortable telling him, even if maybe they were only kidding and even if they went back on it at some later point. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that they didn’t feel the need to keep this truth about themselves hidden. That they felt zero shame and malaise sharing. That their friends welcomed them. If anything, it was refreshing to see. Hopeful at its fullest. It’s good to know that maybe the discourse has changed, after all and maybe, with time, he’ll come to terms with his own fears as well. He’s got to keep hope, if not for himself, but for them and maybe, with time, he can learn something from them along the way.

 (There will come a time, later, a few years down the road, during the last leg of his career. The context will be similar; recess, a Friday afternoon and the girls will be playing some other iteration of a truth game. They’ll ask him to play and he’ll agree, for a lack of something better to do and a never-ending need to bond with his kids in whichever way they want him to.

 It’ll be great fun. The kids will share truths about themselves that’ll range from heartfelt to funny and he’ll appreciate every single one of them. Eventually, as the kids are often known to do, they’ll turn on him and ask for a truth in return. Eventually, he’ll abdicate and confess to his own.

 “Je suis gai,” He’ll tell them, easy and simple as that, with a teasing grin to his face. They’ll roll his eyes at him, complaining all the while that they already know and that they want something new – a real truth. He’ll get them to settle and they’ll wait patiently, thirsting for a new truth about their teacher, “M Étienne et moi on est ensemble,” He’ll tell them next, laughing as they groan because it’s old news. They’ve known for ages – some since first grade. It’s the oldest news in the whole of the school. Hell, some have known since before since they had older siblings who brought the news home even before that.

 But Edward will laugh, pick up the game from where it left off and resume it. He’ll share the truth because it is one of his favourites. He’ll share it because, finally, after so long, he feels comfortable doing so. But mostly, he’ll share it for the kids. To let them know. To remind them, really, that it is okay to be this way and that even when they have doubts and even if it sometimes feels as though they have no one cheering for them, they’ll always have him.)

 FIN

[cafedanslanuit]

it was only a kiss || tamaki x mirio

band!au & college!au

summary; college student tamaki is convinced by a friend to join her band. while initially the thought of standing in front of strangers terrified him to the core, he was quickly engulfed by the stage’s power to transform himself into someone else. when mirio and nejire found out and insisted to attend their next gig, there was no doubt in tamaki’s mind it was a bad idea. he just didn’t know how bad it could get.

songs featured; when you were young + mr brightside // the killers

notes; this prompt was made by tiktok user @reverserogue. tagging @inloveinc​ because we love tamaki + eyeliner

.❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 .❀。• *₊°。

The stage is powerful. It had enough strength to make a usually restrained and fearful college student play his favourite instrument without crumbling into the fear and anxiety that was present in his daily life. While it did help that the lights prevented him to see anyone past the first row, Tamaki had to admit maybe Nejire's friend, Yui, had been right about him being a good fit for her band. He had never felt as confident as he did onstage, never felt as good about himself as he had the past few months.

Underground bars were Yui's favourite place to play. Tamaki was against the idea as soon as he listened to her, but after visiting the place a couple of times before they played, he discovered it was actually a good place for him. Most of the attendees were people who didn't know him since they attended another college. He wasn't Amajiki Tamaki, that creepy dude that couldn't form two sentences together, he was just the guitar player to Yui's band, a random guy who mostly hung out with the other band members and would enjoy an occasional free beer sent by their fans.

Soon, they were getting gigs every week. Sometimes they gave them money, sometimes it would be free drinks. It really didn't matter for him. Honestly, he would have done it for free. He never thought it would be so freeing to let himself be someone else, at least for a couple of nights a week. The band success propelled Yui to invite Mirio and Nejire to their next show.

To say Tamaki wasn't so keen on the idea was an understatement. He had gotten used to becoming this new persona on stage, giving his all to the blurry faces that chanted the songs they played. How did his two childhood friends would fit in his new safe world? Before he could finish listing all the valid reasons it would be a bad idea, both Mirio and Nejire were taking note on when and where the band's next gig would be.

Saturday's night came quicker that Tamaki would have wanted and once again they were back at the now known bar, setting their instruments on stage. Iruka, the second guitar and Yui's brother was connecting the wires of the guitars and bass to the amplifiers while Akito, the bass player and Iruka’s boyfriend was tunning his instrument.

"This feels weird," Tamaki winced, helping Yui carry her drums on stage.

"C'mon, they've known you your whole life. It's fair they can also see this amazing and confident dude you become onstage."

"I- I don't know about that," he shrugged.

"It's going to be fine," she assured her. "Go splash some cold water on your face. We'll start in five."

Tamaki obliged and walked to the bathroom. It was badly lit and filled with an unpleasant smell that made him scrunch his nose. Dragging his feet, he approached the sink and splashed water on his face. He looked at his reflection, ignoring the writings in indelible ink written around. He looked paler than usual. Maybe it would be better to tell Yui that he couldn't play tonight. The girl's sad face appeared in his mind and he shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. The knowledge he would be sabotaging her band if the main guitarrist just disappeared out of the blue was the only thing stopping him from running away. Tamaki splashed water one more time against his face and took a deep breath.

The bathroom door opened with a loud bang, making Tamaki turn around in surprise. He visibly relaxed when he recognized Mirio. The door shut down again, dulling the music from the bar. Once Mirio spotted Tamaki, he smiled brightly and walked to him, his legs a little wobbly.

"Tamaki!" Mirio yelled, cheeks bright red. He put a hand on Tamaki's shoulder for support, a giggle escaping from his lips. "I had never seen you wearing a leather jacket before and… is that eyeliner? You look cool, man."

"Yui's brother, Iruka," Tamaki explained with a small shrug. The smell of alcohol in his friend’s breath confirmed his earlier suspicions. "Are you drunk?"

Mirio looked around while pursing his lips as if making sure no one was listening to them.

"... Maybe," he whispered.

"Maybe? Y-you can't even walk a straight, I--"

His words were cut off by Mirio's lips pressing against their own. Tamaki couldn't help but let out a small yelp, his arms shooting up to the sides of his chest. After pulling away for a second, Mirio leaned in once more and kissed his bottom lip as softly as he could. Keeping his blue eyes fixed on his friend’s mouth, he gently brushed his parted lips against his, his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

Tamaki felt his legs were going to give out at any moment, the alcohol in the man’s breath in front of him intoxicating him as if he had drunk himself. He was in such a state of shock he didn’t realize he hadn’t kissed him back until he felt the tip of Mirio’s tongue grazing his lower lip. Experimentally, he kissed his friend’s upper lip, trying not to overthink the situation they were in. He felt Mirio smile and take some air, but before he could say anything, the door opened. Mirio pulled away rapidly, setting his hands on the sink next to the one Tamaki has been using. Loud noise from the bar filled the bathroom again, making Tamaki feel as if he was just waking up for dream.

“Hey, we’re waiting for you,” Akito reminded him, tilting his head towards the door. He didn't seem to have noticed anything, or at least pretended he didn't. “C’mon.”

Tamaki nodded, shooting a quick glance to Mirio, who was now looking at his reflection in the mirror, trying to fix his hair. What the hell had just happened? Should he say something? Could he say anything about a situation he couldn't even begin to understand?

Noticing Akito was still impatiently waiting for him at the door, Tamaki decided to follow him to the stage, where Yui had a stern expression on her face, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“The fuck, dude? I thought you had died in there."

Kind of, he thought.

“S-sorry,” Tamaki muttered, picking up his guitar.

“We’re doing ‘When we were young’ to start," she instructed him as she took her place behind the drums.

“The Killers?”

“I told you it was Nostalgia Night today. You read the setlist I emailed you last night, right?” Yui asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I’m a little out of it. I- I do remember the setlist, sorry”.

Yui’s expression fell a little. “Are you okay? Is it because Mirio and Nejire are here?”

“Yes,” Tamaki lied. Yui sighed and looked to the people gathered in front of the small stage. Mirio was chatting with Nejire happily, both of them holding drinks and smiling.

“Look, I'm sorry I didn't ask you before inviting them. But they’ve been your friends far longer than they have been mine. I’m sure they’ll be proud of you. Once you conquer this night, nothing can ever stop you again, okay?” she said, a small smile on her face. Taking a deep breath, Tamaki nodded. “Great! Now, help me bring the microphone closer to my drums, I’m singing this one."

A couple of minutes later, after a short introduction of the band, Yui tilted her head to Tamaki, who strummed his guitar, marking the beginning of the song.

You sit there in your heartache

Waiting on some beautiful boy to

To save you from your old ways

Yui’s voice had the perfect combination of roughness and strength that fit the rock songs they usually played. Even if Iruka usually did the singing, for the last month Yui had insisted they all should have a go at it.

Tamaki looked at the audience, his face rising in heat when he realized both his friends were on the first row, their big eyes set on him. He immediately lookd away. Would he feel as afraid as he did if Mirio hadn’t just kissed him not even an hour ago? His eyes darted away, looking at the rest of the band. For several tears, he had done the best he could to hide the feelings that had been tormenting him about his friend , since he knew there was no way they were reciprocated. Had he been far less sneaky as he thought he was? Had Mirio somehow discovered it? The wildest theories his brain came up with still couldn’t help him understand why would Mirio kiss him if he didn’t feel anything for him. Could he really...? Was this real?

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus

But he talks like a gentleman

Like you imagined when you were young

Tamaki looked once again at his friends, the words sang by Yui resonating in his head as he took notice in how bright Mirio’s smile was. He would flat out lie if he said that he never, not even in the solitude of his dorm room, had wondered what it would be to kiss him. He also hated the fact his fantasies hadn’t come close to what he had just experienced. The softness and curiosity of his friend’s movements had him smiling once more, not being able to refrain himself.

The song came to an end with a round of cheers from the crowd. Tamaki smiled softly, thankful he hadn’t messed up even if his mind was somewhere else. They played a couple of more songs, easing Tamaki more and more into the comfortable state he was always at when he performed on stage. Once he played the final chord, he looked back at Yui, waiting for her sign to play the next song but instead, she waved at him, calling him over. He furrowed his eyebrows and obliged, walking to the drums.

“See? This is going great!” she grinned, taking a swig of her water bottle. “You wanna try that song we were rehearsing the other day? The one you sang?”

“Y-you’re sure?” he asked, twisting his mouth. Yui nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah! It sounds great when you do it. C’mon, take the mic”

Iruka and Akito saw Tamaki placing the mic stand in front of him and looked over at Yui, who raised her thumbs at them. Knowing which song was next, they left their drinks on the floor and placed their hands on their instruments once more. Once everyone was ready, Tamaki began playing the well-known riff, the band quickly following him.

Coming out of my cage

And I've been doing just fine

The feeling of fullness music gave him was something he had never experienced before. If he had known live music had such an empowering effect on him, he would have tried it long ago. He only ever played around with his guitar when he thought no one was looking, so he was really lucky Yui had ended up listening to him playi. They both had been invited to a pool party, but Tamaki had quickly left the crowd and started walking around the house. He found a guitar in one of the rooms and started idly strumming some chords, trying to pass the time until Nejire and Mirio wanted to return to the dorms. Yui had been wandering around the house as well when she heard him, and later made it her life mission to get him to meet Iruka and Akito so he could be a part of her new band.

It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this?

Tamaki laughed under his breath when the crowd chanted the next line and turned his head at them, wanting to keep this memory forever. His wish was cruelly granted when the very first image that greeted him was Mirio kissing someone else. She had long, black, wavy hair falling down her back and it didn’t look like anyone Tamaki had seen at their college before, but that didn’t stop his friend from pulling her even tighter against his body.

Muscle memory is a funny thing. Even when your mind is no longer there, music triggers a part of your brain that makes your body play your instrument perfectly if you’ve rehearsed long enough. He wished he could look anywhere but at this random girl circling his friend’s neck with her arms as she kissed him. Tamaki could no longer hear the music around him or even know if he was still breathing. There was only one thing in his mind and the image of it was breaking him into a million pieces.

And I just can't look, it's killing me

And taking control

Tamaki looked over at Nejire, who was happily oblivious to her friend’s state as she danced to the music. He turned to the side once more, facing Iruka and Akito. The crowd sang at the top of their lungs and he doubted whether they could listen to his voice anymore. He refused to look at the crowd again, knowing what was happening right in front of him. Fuck, how did things get so complicated? He had been just fine denying his feelings all those years, not paying attention to them, confident there was no way Mirio would look at him in a different way, and not only had he been proved wrong, but in a dramatically short span of time the timid hope that had grown in his heart has been stomped in the most cruel way. If only his feelings had been crushed, then why did his chest hurt so much?

“How did it end up like this?” he sang, letting out an amused, dry laugh. “It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.”

How he wished he could get his beating heart to understand just that. It had been nothing more than a drunk kiss. And while maybe that meant the kiss with the girl was also just a drunk kiss, it didn’t make him feel any better. In fact, it only managed to tore his crumbled heart a bit more.

The song ended and Tamaki would be lying if he said he remembered which songs they played next. He could vaguely recall Iruka taking the mic stand from him and handing it to Akito. Considering Yui’s big smile after their set was done, he knew he hadn’t messed up but still couldn’t find comfort in it. He couldn’t take his mind off of the image of Mirio kissing that girl, the taste of alcohol on Mirio’s lips as he kissed him in the bathroom and his bright, bright smile as he looked up to him onstage.

The band sat on the bar as they were given free beer as payment for their performance. Nejire sat with them, congratulating them for their set, saying how much she loved it and that she was definitely going to attend their next gig. Mirio was nowhere to be seen but Tamaki didn’t comment on it. He didn’t even want to check if the girl he had seen him with was still around. When Yui asked Nejire where did Mirio go, she excused him saying he had been feeling a bit under the weather and had hailed a cab back to the dorms. Tamaki couldn’t help but snort.

“Told you it was going to be a great night,” Yui smiled, elbowing him playfully. Tamaki nodded and took another swig of his beer.

[yeojaa]

TO THE MOON AND BACK - ft. ???

You feel winded and you're not sure why.  Like you'd been walking on cloud nine and were now falling through the atmosphere, plummeting toward the ground at incredible speeds.  When you speak, it doesn't really sound like you.  "Yes."  Because he was exactly right - you were a hopeless romantic.  Always had been.  It was hard not to be when your parents were childhood sweethearts and love was the thing you'd been chasing your whole life.

alt summary.  You use your one brain cell for love.  It doesn’t always end well.

pairing.  who knows, honestly.  the obvious ones are kim taehyung and jeon jungkook, though.  

tags.  blind date, strangers, strangers to friends, strangers to lovers, getting to know each other, alternate universe, alternate universe - modern setting, romantic comedy.

rating.  general (for now?)

word count.  ~3750

chapter 4.  

Time passes as it always does, swirling around you in the form of hungry patrons and waning sunlight. 

Occasionally, it crawls and the words don't come, weighed by an anchor you can't quite lift.  It feels heavy in your hands, a door that won't open no matter how much you fidget, graphite leaving dots across pristine white paper.  It taunts you and tricks you every time you hazard a glance at your phone.

Other times, it's gone in the blink of an eye, the glowing numbers on your screen a reminder of its perpetual movement.  

The only consistent is Jeon Jungkook. 

You appreciate his presence, the familiarity it brings as he sits quietly, every so often chuckling to himself when he scrolls past something funny on his phone.  A snap of his friend's face superimposed over a pig (don't ask);  a meme off the front page of Reddit.  You're grateful for the fact that he keeps otherwise quiet and doesn't try to share his finds, taking extra care not to disturb whatever creative process you're in.  He knows as well as you - you take inspiration where you can get it.

Still, it's hard not to notice him. 

There'd always been something about him that drew your attention, like he was a planet and you were caught in his gravitational pull.  You couldn't avoid him if you tried.

Looking at him now - sneaking glances when you know he's miles down his Instagram feed and won't catch you - he's everything you remembered and so much that you hadn't.  It makes your heart ache a little, just as it had in the first few months of radio silence.  You'd honestly thought you'd gotten used to it - draped a cloth over the Jungkook-shaped hole in your life - but sitting there with him, you realize you definitely hadn't.  It's like a cold draft that won't go away, curling around his gaping silhouette and rousing memories you don't mean to dwell on. 

Maybe it was your fault.  Maybe your refusal to explore the how's and why's had festered the wound and kept it from healing.  But if you were to blame, then so was he.  After all, you'd never meant for it to happen.   

Isn't that how it always happened?

Things had been fine, for a while.  Better than fine, in fact.  You'd found a kindred spirit in the boy that'd taken up root beside you, discovering fragments of your dreams in his film vignettes and buried between the layers of his watercolour. 

You'd gone through the motions of getting to know each other before casual conversations in the lecture hall had transitioned to harried 3 a.m. texts about whether you'd completed the assignment or not.  (He always had;  you, not so much.)  The Friday editing sessions had even turned to weekend day trips in search of inspiration, not realizing - or not acknowledging - you'd found it in each other.  Of course, you never addressed it, finding too much comfort in each other to dare turn the spotlight on it.  You'd thought that maybe, if you acted like it wasn't happening, everything would be okay. 

You thought whatever you were would be safe, hidden among the moon and stars.

After all, it was inevitable, like the changing of seasons.  Spending so much time with someone else tended to open you up to them in ways you'd never expected. 

Still, it had hit you like a freight train colliding with a pipe bomb when you'd drunkenly invited him back to your dorm and he'd agreed, enthusiastic and intoxicated.  You'd been celebrating the completion of your thesises (or theses, as Jungkook had so sagely reminded you when you were four bottles of soju in and slurring your words). 

Never in your wildest dreams - and oh, how you'd dreamt - had you thought it would happen.

You should've known it was a bad idea when your adoration had nearly swallowed you whole, the familiar desire to stick your tongue out at him replaced by one to use that muscle in a very different way.  But everything had happened so quickly that night, intensity engulfing every single one of your sensibilities and igniting it in flames.  He'd felt so good - so right - like he'd been created just for you, all of his sinew and bone a testament to a higher power that had deemed you worthy enough.  

If you were a recovering addict, he was the 40 year old malt that sent you right back into inebriation. 

You hadn't cared then, drunk off something other than liquor.  All you'd wanted was him and that beautiful smile for a little while longer. 

You'd even told yourself you could get past whatever repercussions arose.  That was the strength of your friendship.  And yet, you'd been wrong.  You'd hardly been able to look at him the next morning, fleeing to the library with a note left on your pillow.  You'd been the one to run away, leaving him to wake up to an empty bed.  

It was the right thing to do, you'd told yourself.  Better to avoid an awkward morning after. 

Except that silence had stretched on and by the time you'd realized your mistake, it was too late.  You weren't sure who was ignoring who and you were too afraid to ask.

"Do I have something on my face?"  Your companion is swiping across his mouth, alarmed by the intensity with which you've been ogling him.  God - how long had you been staring at him?

Heat spills over your neck and you can feel it rising into your hairline, sweeping across your ears and drowning them in red-hot embarrassment.  "No.  Sorry.  I zoned out."  You're stumbling over your words, a choked half-laugh crossing the threshold of enamel. 

Jungkook looks at you like he could unravel your excuses with but a word but says nothing.  His capacity for silence always surprised you.

"Should we get going?"  He finally offers.  Your saving grace.

"Oh, sure."  A cursory glance at your phone has you near bolting out of your seat.  "It's almost two?!"  You're immediately shoving everything back into your tote with manic energy, nearly stabbing your pencil through the fleshy underside of your palm when you miss its rightful pocket.  You'd never been good with time management.

"You'll be fine - the studio's close by."  He's not wrong but his reassurance has you halting, strap of your bag looped around the hook of your elbow.  For a second, you're confused.  He can see it in your eyes. 

He debates saying something, waiting for the cogs in your head to click into place.

They finally do and you finish your motion, hiking your tote comfortably onto your shoulder.  Your over-ear headphones are tucked neatly into the pocket in the front and zipped in for security before a single AirPod replaces the quiet left behind by their departure.  Habit.  You always need music.

He knows them too, you remind yourself. 

(You don't know how it hasn't come up yet.  Maybe because it's been eight excruciating months of the Great Depression, as you tended to call it.)

You're about to bid him farewell, the words primed, when you catch his expression.  It might just be your own emotions projected across the chiselled curvature, but he looks almost wistful.  Like he's not quite ready to say goodbye.  

You decide you aren't, either.  "Do you want to walk with me?"

You know he doesn't take longer than a moment to consider the offer, though he plays at mulling it over, a decidedly artificial look of deliberation spreading.

"Fine, your loss,"  you state with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. 

When you move toward the door, he's right there with you, and when you head into the early afternoon light, he's at your side.  You try not to think about how close he is, how you're not sure whether the heat is from the sun or his body or the emotion that boils beneath your skin.  It's hard.

"How long have you been interning?"  He's sweetly curious, the picture of friendly attention.

"Since September." 

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."  He hears the animation that threatens to drag your words into overdrive, throwing ending syllables into one another.  A quirk of yours - like your heart couldn't catch up with your mouth.  "It's been a really incredible experience and I have so much respect for the people that put their entire lives into it.  Namjoon and Yoongi - they've been so great.  A little rough around the edges,"  Jungkook's hum is wrapped in understanding because he intimately knows what you mean,  "but so, so good to me."  You seem to realize you've taken off like a rocket and slow, allowing yourself to readjust as you plummet back to Earth.  "It's like everything I'm feeling finally has a home, you know?"

"I get it."  Something tender lingers in his gaze as your eyes meet.  Your heart skips a beat.  Then he's still, forcing you to do the same.  You realize you're at your destination, imposing building rising high above your heads.  "I guess this is goodbye."

You hate the sound of that more than you should.  You offer a little wave as you begin backwards, shoulder meeting the glass door.  You can't look away.  "How about see you later instead?"  

He looks like he's just won the lottery when you disappear inside.

They're two figures huddled together when you slip into the studio, your Dr. Martens replaced with soft Ryan slippers that stand in stark contrast to your neon green socks.  You think they must not hear you by the lack of acknowledgment and take your time in setting your bag down, extracting your items one by one. 

Phone, notebook, headphones.  Your water bottle.  Pencils and pens in every pastel shade you could find.  If only you were this organized in school.

"So, you and Taehyung, huh?"  Yoongi's low drawl has you whipping around but he hasn't even turned, instead still preoccupied with the melody that filters through his studio headphones, one side trapped against his head by the flat of his palm.  You see more than hear the silent laughter that catches his shoulders, rolling over his lithe frame.  

"Hello to you too, Min seonsangnim,"  you chirp, ignoring the question in favour of settling down behind them.  It's your usual spot beside the electric piano, comprised of a sleek Herman Miller lounge chair and simple black table that you neatly arrange your belongings onto.  You unfold your notebook and drag it into your lap, legs crossed in your seat, as you wait for them to finish whatever they're working on.

Namjoon hums to himself, fingers tracking with practiced precision as he lays a certain beat differently, dragging a note to the forefront.  You watch, ever curious, as his deft movements transform the sounds that reach his ears, bringing an appreciative nod from the man beside him.

What you wouldn't give to hear what they were working on.

Instead, you focus on the litany of lyrics scrawled across the pages of your notebook.  You drag them over and over in your head, letting them curve across different melodies in hopes one will stick.  You know it's backwards - tune first, Namjoon always said - but you're stuck on these goddamn lines.  You want them to make sense so badly.

You must look as frustrated as you feel, because you register a soft laugh and your name right as you're about to slash out another two lines.

"You're going to regret it."  You know he's right.  You huff, all but slamming your pencil down on the table as you meet the expectant stares of your mentors.  It feels a little different today, as if you've crossed some invisible line you hadn't known existed.  It's not an unwelcome feeling.

"Just another thing to add to the list,"  you answer, dryly. 

"Woah now."  There are tendrils of concern wrapping the words, something unspoken in the way Namjoon looks at you rather than the words he speaks.  His chin cants, mouth pursed in that distinct way of his, and you can't help but feel a little childish, like a student caught red-handed by their principal.  How fitting that that's what he was to you.  "Is everything okay?"

The smile you offer is genuine, steeped heavily in appreciation.  You're fine - you know you are.  The past few days have just gotten weirder and weirder and it's a little hard to wrap your head around it.  You're not sure how to explain that.

"Is it because you're pining over Tae?"  It doesn't seem like he's going to let it go any time soon so you level Yoongi with a stare that would make him proud, reeking of barely concealed dissatisfaction.  It's a complete facade, meant only to act as an apathetic mask.  He knows that.  You know that.   He snickers, arms folding across his chest as he maintains that look of anticipation.

"I'm not pining over him,"  you retort.  And really, you're not.  You're just pleasantly intrigued. 

"But you do like him."  Now it's Namjoon locking you with the implications of his question, the words acting as proverbial blinders.  You can't look anywhere but his eyes.

"I mean, I hardly know him."  You know your answer isn't enough by the silence that meets it.  You blow a steady stream of air through your nose, trying to find patience among the fluttering in your chest.  "Fine, I like him.  I'm interested."  It feels strange talking to them about this.  They've never involved themselves in your personal life.  Not even when you'd asked them to help you with your songs, begged to pour your heartbreak into something material. 

All things considered, you can't blame them.  

"Good.  Because he's a good guy."  You don't doubt it but it's still nice to hear, especially from those whose opinions you hold in such high esteem.  It lightens your burden a little, stripping worry away from your heart like daisy petals.  

You like him, you like him not, you like him.  

With a languid roll of your eyes, you edge closer, sock sliding back into your slippers.  Your notebook is set down, forgotten temporarily, as you rock to your feet and cross to join them in front of the various monitors.  "Can we focus on something other than my love life now?"  

The sun is but a flicker of burnt orange over the horizon when you exit the building, drifting low behind buildings and casting faded warmth over everything it touches.  It's colder than you'd anticipated, the soft knit of your cardigan doing little to rebuff the evening air.  It's invigorating, if not a little unwelcome.  

You slot your earphones into place before you begin walking, enamoured with the strike of ivory keys and unfiltered lyricism.  A quick swipe through your messages, nothing immediately catching your eye.  Good.  You're ready to go home and dive into a bowl of ramyeon.

Or, at least, you were - before you're colliding with a solid mass.

You blink once, twice, trying to make sense of what's happened.  You know this area like the back of your hand, have walked it both sober and drunk, in the afternoon and hours past midnight.  There's certainly not supposed to be an obstruction in the middle of the street.

"I'm so sorry."  The voice registers as desirable, heavy in its timbre, a sound you'd gladly tumble headlong into.  It's also familiar, though that recognition comes more slowly, in bits and pieces that form a haphazard picture in your mind.  It's fuzzy around the edges because you're not intimately familiar with it but oh, how you could be.

"Kim Taehyung?"  You're not sure how many times you've uttered those same few words but it falls again, framed in surprise and perhaps a little hope.  

"Hi."  He breathes the greeting like it's a secret, his big boxy grin stopped short only by the way he catches his bottom lip between his teeth.  There's a flash of pink as his tongue follows suit not long after, laving at the indents he's left behind.  A tic of his, you notice.  One that stirs butterflies in your chest and tension in your stomach.  You mimic the action without realizing and it's his turn to inhale sharply, his attempts at suffocating the excitement with a lungful of air feeble.  "Surprise?"  

It's an understatement if you've ever heard one. 

"What're you doing here?"  

The reminder that this isn't normal - that your meeting isn't planned nor somehow caused by some sort of cosmic interference - seems to bring him to his senses.  He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, hand rising to scratch at the nape of his neck.  He's tonguing his lip again, the tell-tale flash of pink distracting you momentarily.  In the open, like this, he's even more handsome than you remembered and you admire him with little hesitation.

"Namjoon-hyung mentioned they'd have a late night." 

That certainly doesn't answer your question.  "But what does that have to do with me?"

"He said he and Yoongi-hyung would be here all night but... that you were leaving soon."  By the way he speaks, it almost as if he's ready for a reprimand or rejection.  He won't even look at you fully, his gaze bouncing from your eyes to your mouth to some indeterminate spot behind your left ear.  He looks like he's about burst when he finally meets your stare.  "I thought you might want to get dinner. "

You can't deny how charming it is, how giddy it makes you feel.  You're beaming as bright as the sun.  "I'd love to." 

The breath he'd been holding escapes as one giant laugh that reverberates his shoulders and crashes out of his mouth in unadulterated mirth.  He tries to hide it behind his hands, palm pressed to his lips as his face contorts into a makeshift cage.  He's a kid on Christmas morning and his excitement is infectious.

"I guess this is our first date then."  There's that aching sweetness again, blanketing his words in promise as he extends his hand.  Maybe it's a little too forward, a little too much - you can see the uncertainty buried deep in his irises - but you take it nonetheless, slotting your digits with his as if its the most natural thing in the world.  You like the way he feels, the weight of his hand in yours.  You're gladdened by the fact that you still feel sparks where your skin connects, a live wire linking the two of you together.

It hadn't just been all in your head.

"Where should we go?"  

"Anywhere."  You don't mean to sound the way you do, a girl on her first date.  It causes a revolt against your cheeks, pretty pink painting the apples.  "I'm not picky."  A poor attempt at sounding somewhat blasé.  Why you try, you're not sure, because Taehyung looks just as enamoured as you.  It's both powerful and terrifying.  "You choose."  

So he does - and you like that, too, allowing him to lead the two of you to a nearby shop that specializes in jokbal.  He won't stop talking about it the entire way, regaling you with stories of late night munchies with his hyungs and making you laugh so hard you shake. 

He never drops your hand, not even when he's opening the door for you with his other.  

You find your seats quickly, settling across from each other at the small table.  It's reminiscent of the first time you'd met and you can't help but smile, mouth pursing so as to stave off the expression.  It catches his attention, though you're uncertain it'd been anywhere else.  "What?"

"I feel like we should be answering questions again."

There's playfulness curling his lips, stretching his cheeks and rounding them into his characteristic smile.  "Do you want to?"

You're surprised.  Why not?  "Sure.  It'll be like old times."

Now, he snickers, once again hidden behind the slope of his fingers.  "What percentage did you put at the end?"  It's like a flipped switch how quickly he goes from cherubic aegyo to serious, effortlessly handsome in his sudden gravity.

"I'm not telling you that!"  You gasp as if affronted, voice warbling like an old widow asked about her dearly departed.  

"Come on!"  He comes back, just as quick.  A hand cradles his heart now - lays right over where it lies beneath the soft cotton of his plain black shirt - and tenses.  Some sort of very fake sob comes out, hushed in consideration of the other diners, and he levels you with a look that makes you want to kiss him.  "You're breaking my heart, Cho Jiyeon."

A part of you wants to drag this on, keep that all-encompassing smile in place for as long as you can, but he's already shifting.  He's leaning across the table and you can count each individual eyelash and every mole.  You're once again left breathless by the sheer beauty of him.  

"I put 100."  The admission comes so easily from him that you almost feel bad for holding out.  Almost. 

You think you might if you weren't completely over the moon and lost to the stars above.  "Me too."

He's never looked better than when he hears that and you try to memorize the way his eyes squint, the start of his smile when his mouth pulls subtly to the left, the deep lines that run the length of his chiselled cheeks.  Like a painting by the old masters, it speaks volumes.  

"You're not just saying that?" 

The juxtaposition is laughable when he finally speaks.  Here he is, devilishly handsome and brimming with euphoria, and yet his words sound like they've taken everything out of him.  It makes your heart squeeze in a downright lovesick way.  "One hundred,"  a pause that's meant to be cute,  "percent serious."

Your bad joke has him laughing, sweeping you up in the sound.  "You won't regret it."

You tell yourself you believe him because you're hopeless and you don't know better.  But when he focuses on you like this, you can't help it.  He's like every wish you've ever made, a shooting star across a spotless night sky, illuminating everything in its path.  He makes you see in full spectrum colour, setting your vision to ultra HD.  You don't want to go back to shades to grey.

notes.  just when kook was getting some face time, in comes taehyung.  whoops!

[takipsilim88116]

Steps to Forever

Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him. 

Or,

(A snippet of Mes and Thun’s life after the season finale.)

Tags: Mes Wongsakorn Thanarunsiri/Thun Thunyakorn, Post-Canon, Introspection, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff, Romance, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Domestic Fluff, Love Transcends All Boundaries

Read on ArchiveofOurOwn: Link

Notes:

I recently finished watching He’s Coming To Me and I must say that it’s definitely one of my most favorite BL series. The story touched my heart so much.

This fic is Post-Canon, vaguely set a few years after the end of Episode 8. Crossposted on ArchiveofOurOwn under TakipSilim.

Please excuse any grammatical errors and I hope you enjoy!

Steps to Forever 

Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him. 

On some days, he wondered if all of this was just an elaborate dream—that in reality, he was still stuck in the cemetery, aimlessly listening to a repeating soundtrack and wondering why none of his relatives ever bothered to visit him. As he had been unable to leave the cemetery at all then, Mes had been resigned to the fact that he was going to spend the rest of his time doing that exact routine while waiting for his turn at reincarnation. 

However, things changed for Mes when Thun saw and left candies on his unmaintained grave. Suddenly, all Mes could feel was hope—hope that there was finally someone who could see and hear him and converse with him, even if it was only once a year during the QingMing Festival. He always looked forward to seeing the younger boy because despite having A’Ngoon and P’Jeng’s friendship, Mes was still a very lonely ghost. Thun eased some of that loneliness with his smiles and his stories and his offerings of Mes’ favorite foods. Mes had resolved that he would learn to be content with just that—enjoying Thun’s company, no matter how brief it was.

But then, Thun had brought Mes out of the cemetery and had driven him around in his car, showing him the sights and sceneries he had missed these past twenty years. 

But then, Thun had told Mes that the reason he hadn’t been able to reincarnate yet was because Mes hadn’t died from a heart attack but from something else.

But then, Thun had invited Mes to live with him while they had searched for the real reason Mes passed away because Thun had wanted to help him reincarnate.

And in living and spending even more time together, Mes discovered that Thun was kind and attentive and clever and cheeky and mischievous and he couldn’t help but be endeared. He couldn’t help but want more, and foolishly hope for more. Thun was a breath of fresh air, a source of joy to him. Despite being dead for over twenty years, Mes felt alive whenever he was with the other man. 

It was painful, but Mes had to constantly remind himself that a deeper relationship between the two of them would never be possible. He had to constantly remind himself that he was already dead, and that Thun was only helping him out of pity. When the secrets surrounding his identity slowly unravelled, Mes found that he had even less reason to pursue a relationship with the only person he ever fell in love with. It didn’t matter that he knew Thun felt the same way towards him—a ghost and a human could never be together. 

But Thun was stubborn and brave and unwavering in his love for Mes, and Mes realized he never really stood a chance against Thun. Mes allowed himself to fall even deeper in love with the young man who easily became his world.

And somehow, against all odds and circumstances and expectations, they were still together now. Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him. On some days, he wondered if all of this was just an elaborate dream that his mind had conjured to help with his loneliness.

Beside him, Thun mumbles incoherently and it makes him smile. If anything, Mes thinks, this is his proof that all of this is real. Thun is right next to him on their shared bed, and he’s close enough that Mes can feel the warmth radiating off his body.

As if aware that Mes is thinking of him, Thun turns in his sleep to face him. Blindly reaching out, Thun manages to place a hand on Mes’ waist, pulling him even closer and maneuvering himself so that he ends up pillowed against Mes’ shoulder. Fondness surges up his chest at Thun’s sleepy display of affection.

“Why are you still awake, P’Mes?” he asks in a scratchy voice.

Running his fingers through Thun’s hair, Mes replies, “Ghosts don’t need sleep.”

Thun hums. “Yeah, but you like to sleep.” He lifts his head and looks at Mes. “What are you thinking of, P’Mes?”

He lets his fingers travel from Thun’s hair down to his back, tracing the curve of his spine and smiling when he feels the other man shiver. “I was thinking of you,” Mes answers softly.

Thun chuckles. “Am I that irresistible to you, P’?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “You know you are.”

Unexpectedly, Mes’ honest reply makes Thun bury his face on his chest. “P’,” he whines. 

“Did I make you shy, Thun?” he teases. When Thun raises his head, Mes sees that his eyes are twinkling. 

“I didn’t think that P’ could be so shameless,” he says, “where did my good and sweet P’Mes go, huh?” 

Mes resumes running his fingers up and down Thun’s back slowly. “I never said that I was a good boy to begin with,” he whispers. Thun’s breath hitches when Mes lets his hand travel even lower. “Shall I show you just what I mean?”

“P’Mes!” Thun half-laughs, half-gasps, scandalized by the implication. Mes can’t help but laugh out loud and soon, Thun joins him. The sound of their laughter fills the room for a good minute and it’s something Mes wants to hear for as long as he is able to.

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” Mes concedes, “you need to sleep some more. You said we’re going somewhere again tomorrow.”

(Thun made it his personal mission to take Mes out on road trips as often as he could. He had claimed that he wanted Mes to have the opportunity to visit all of the places he wasn’t able to when he was still alive. 

“But of course,” Thun had added with a grin, “I just want to have another reason to spend even more time with you, P’Mes.”

Mes’ heart had swelled with fondness for him and he had proceeded to hug Thun tightly.) 

Nodding, Thun begins to make himself comfortable on the bed. “Cuddle me to sleep, P’Mes?” he requests. Acquiescing, Mes wraps his arms around Thun, relishing the feeling of their bodies pressed together.

(It will never get tiring, Mes thinks, this feeling of holding Thun and being held by Thun. He had spent so many years without physical contact that any sort of touch from Thun—the person he loves the most—is welcome.) 

In no time, both of them fall into an easy sleep.

)+( 

They’ve been on the road for roughly an hour now. 

(Mes doesn’t know where they’re headed to. No amount of pleading or pouting from him made Thun tell him where he planned on taking them. “It’s a surprise, P’Mes,” Thun had answered every single time Mes asked. “You’ll see when we get there.” 

Mes had pouted some more, but all it did was make Thun kiss his cheek.) 

“How much farther, Thun?” he asks.

Glancing at Mes for a brief moment, Thun lets a small smile curve up his lips. “Just a bit more, P’,” he replies cheerfully. 

True to his word, they reach their destination within a few minutes. Thun parks the car on one corner and takes a deep breath. Mes looks at him questioningly, but Thun only shakes his head. “Let’s go, P’.”

Mes obediently follows him out of the car and intertwines their fingers together as a silent show of support. Thun’s nervous, Mes can tell, but he has no idea why yet. He was fine this morning and when they were on the road just a little while ago.

Thun squeezes his hand. “I wanted to show you this, P’,” he says before pointing in front of him. Mes looks to where Thun is pointing, and he finds himself awestruck at the view that greets him. 

It’s like a painting, the way the fully bloomed purple and gold flowers gently sway with the wind. The scenery is delicate and romantic, and Mes is just about to ask Thun if they can take a picture of it when he starts speaking again.

“I found this place when I first learned how to drive,” Thun begins, “I thought it looked like something out of a fairytale.” 

“It’s very beautiful,” Mes says honestly, unable to take his eyes away from the field of flowers. There were a lot of places Mes wasn’t able to visit when he was still alive, so he’s very grateful to Thun for taking the time to bring him to places like these. 

(He’s so grateful to Thun for so many things.)   

Mes feels Thun’s thumb caress the back of his hand and it makes Mes glance at him. Thun is already looking back at him, his gaze filled with unadulterated warmth. “I told myself that I’d bring the person I love to see this place with me,” Thun continues with a shy smile.

Thun takes another deep breath, seemingly gathering all of his courage. ”I told myself that I’d bring the person I love to see this place with me,” he repeats, “and that I’d propose to them right here.” 

It takes a few moments for the words to register, but once they do, Mes’ mouth falls open in surprise. From his small pouch, Thun brings out an electric incense and a pair of simple silver rings. Stunned, Mes can only watch as Thun shoots him a small smile before getting down on one knee. 

“I want to spend forever with you, P’Mes,” Thun says tenderly, sweetly, “will you do me the honor of marrying me?”   

“Thun…” he whispers, heart full and eyes watering. Even in his wildest fantasies, Mes never thought that this would happen to him—he’s a ghost that’s been dead for over twenty years, after all. But then, Thun has always had a way of exceeding all of his expectations and even now, that holds true.

Nodding, Mes cups Thun’s cheek with a trembling hand. “I would be honored to marry you,” he answers softly, “I would want nothing more, Thun.” 

Expression lighting up like the sun at his response, Thun takes Mes’ other hand and kisses his palm. He slides the ring onto the designated finger and smiles up at Mes with so much love and contentment. 

How fortunate he must be, Mes thinks, that he’s on the receiving end of this wonderful man’s love, that Mes has the honor of loving him back. 

Thun gives Mes the other ring and raises his hand. “Put it on for me?” he requests. Mes does as he’s asked, kissing Thun’s knuckles once he’s done. Thun stands up and takes both of Mes’ hands into his, quietly admiring the way the matching rings look.   

“I promise I’ll make you happy, P’Mes,” Thun declares and Mes can’t help but chuckle even as tears roll down his cheeks. He can’t remember ever being this happy before. 

“Oh Thun,” Mes assures him,“you already do. You make me so happy.” Thun grins and allows himself to be pulled down by Mes.

Mes can’t help but think that the kisses they share in that field of fully bloomed purple and gold flowers taste like sunlight and overflowing happiness.   

)+( 

The ring has become a comforting weight on his hand. 

Mes can’t help but smile in contentment every time he catches sight of the silver band. Thun is the same; his lips always curve up whenever he sees their rings. The rings may be simple in design, but they hold a much deeper meaning. They symbolize Mes and Thun’s promise to love and care for each other endlessly.  

If one followed logic, all of this would have been impossible. Logically, he would have reincarnated after finding out the reason behind his death. Logically, Thun would have gone on with his life after helping him find peace. Logically, they would have never fallen in love with each other in the first place because of their fundamental differences. 

Instead, Mes was allowed to stay. Instead, Thun wanted to spend the rest of his life together with Mes. Instead, Mes and Thun fell in love with each other in spite of their differences and only continued to fall deeper in love with each other everyday. 

As Mes leans against Thun, enjoying the soft sound of music and the chatter of Thun’s friends and Kwan at their engagement party, he thinks that perhaps love truly does have the power to override everything—how else could a ghost like him and a human like Thun have the chance to spend the rest of their lives together like a pair of ordinary lovers? It’s not supposed to be possible in any way.

Thun gazes at him tenderly and Mes smiles when Thun presses gentle kisses on his lips. 

It’s not supposed to be possible in any way, and yet here they are, taking their steps to forever. 

Notes:

Thank you very much for taking the time to read my fic! Please tell me what you think.

Have a great day ahead of you and stay safe!

[in-tua-deep]

Consider: they go back to rescue Grace and bring her to Ellie like she’s a robot but Diego insists she has feelings so can she stay? And Ellie the lumberjack lesbian just sorta stammers ‘uh yeah sure ok whatever’ because wow for a robot nanny she’s really cute?? And they fall in love

y’all are very insistent on this lmao for anyone new this is regarding the broken five au where Reginald tries to control Five by threatening Vanya’s life so the kids run away! for all of it check out the ellie fortuin tag ;3c

I should make a master list of my aus at some point smh

ANYWAY so after Reggie arrives and Ellie kicks him the entire fuck out the kids reveal that they wish they could also rescue their mother, which is the first Ellie is hearing about this (she assumed the reason they looked sad when she accidentally brought up mothers is because theirs gave the up and sold them to Reginald Fucking Hargreeves - she did her research when she figured out who they were okay)

but in all she looked up she didn’t find anything about Reginald Hargreeves being married or anything so ???

and there’s another thing she’s been meaning to do for a while which she kind of needs to go to the house/Reginald to do and whatever so, you know. She tells the kids she’s going out, puts on her nicest plaid shirt (because actually fuck getting dressed up to see this dude she’s going to wear her muddiest boots) and gives them all kisses and reminders to be good and then sets out

(she puts Marmalade in charge because as much as she complains about the cat she doesn’t trust Clyde not to be a pushover and at least Marm is street smart)

so there she is hammering on the door to the Umbrella Academy with a backpack pull of papers on her back, a lengthy consultation with a lawyer to remember, and a mission in her mind and the door opens and there is a chimpanzee in a suit looking at her and Ellie is honestly just kind of like “Ah you know now it makes some sense why the kids are weird about bringing up monkeys” and just embraces that her life is weird as she follows the chimp (who talks and has introduced himself as Pogo what the fuck) into the house and is told to wait while he informs Master Reginald of her arrival

and while she’s waiting impatiently and kicking off bit of dried mud on her boots to kick under the fancy furniture to be spiteful, she hears humming and who comes into view but an absolute angel?? Ellie would genuinely swear her heart skipped a beat

“Oh!” The Angel says, spotting her, looking mildly surprised, “A guest! Has Pogo already seen to you, dear?”

“Uh.” Ellie says, very intelligently as her brain short-circuits

“I’m Grace.” The Angel smiles warmly and Ellie genuinely wants the floor to open up and swallow her because she cannot form a single coherent sentence and also didn’t the kids say Grace was their mothers name this is not the random old lady she was expecting, “Are you here to see Mr. Hargreeves?”

Thankfully Ellie doesn’t have to embarrass herself any further by attempting to produce something approaching speech because Pogo is back and gesturing for Ellie to follow him.

“It was lovely meeting you.” Grace tells her, before turning back to cleaning or whatever she was doing and Ellie is helpless except to follow after Pogo to do what she actually came here to do.

So that’s what has Ellie standing in front of Reginald Hargreeves and slamming a whole bunch of papers on his desk and saying “Independent adoption” to him as though he, who literally bought seven children, did not know what adoption was.

And then there is a long an complicated argument that busts out a lot of legal terms and more than a few vague threats on both sides. Because Ellie does not want this man to have any legal power over her kids and apparently he is still under the delusion that the kids will ever go back to live and train under him or whatever which HA is not happening

“They need to stop the apocalypse.” Reginald Hargreeves insists to her face.

“Those kids,” Ellie says, voice low and dangerous, “Are powerful beyond measure, and before I got them they didn’t care about the world one lick. Because they’d never seen it. Because what had the world ever done for them? The only thing they knew about humanity was you, Reginald Hargreeves. And you taught them that people were cruel and ruthless and only wanted to use them. You taught them that people without powers were useless and worthless and ordinary.”

She opens her arms wide, “And you think that those kids would save the world? You think they would lift a finger to help humanity when all they knew was that it was evil? The way you were raising them, I’d be more shocked if it wasn’t them who caused the apocalypse for goodness sake.”

Reginald sits before her, pale in his fury, but she doesn’t drop it there.

“Luther likes building with his hands, and he’s really good at it. His favorite food is baby carrots because he likes the crunch and also likes sneaking them to Clyde. He likes helping people carry things to their cars and any praise makes him light up like a Christmas tree, bless him. And when I got him? He didn’t know how to help people, he only knew how to stop ‘bad guys’ and had no idea how to even talk to people.”

Reginald doesn’t say anything. Ellie presses on.

“Diego is an angry kid, yeah, but he had a heart of fucking gold. He’s the first one to volunteer to help with chores or dinner or anything. He’s protective as anything when it comes to his siblings. He was the one who brought home the cranky old tomcat that no one could get near just because he thought that he was lonely and needed a home. And when I got him? He would barely even talk to me because he thought he’d get in trouble for struggling with his words. Thought that his ideas were worth less somehow just because he took longer to get them out. And that’s what you taught him.”

Ellie is really still furious about that. Diego’s stuttering usually only surfaced when he was nervous or stressed now, which wasn’t as often as it used to be, but the fact that he told her once with anger and heartbreak on her face that he was just dumb broke her heart.

“Allison made friends quicker than anyone. She loves to talk to people. She was so excited to go to her friend’s birthday party and when I asked her why she said she’d never been allowed to have friends, before. Never allowed to have friends. Her and Klaus pick out some of the wildest clothes because they’d never been allowed to express themselves before. She’s so bright, and wonderful, and she loves going to the movies more than anything.”

“You can stop, now.” Reginald tells her.

“No I can’t.” Ellie surges up with a roar, clearly taking Reginald aback. “No, I can’t, because those kids are just that - kids. They didn’t know how to save the world because they didn’t even know what the world was! They weren’t allowed friends, they weren’t allowed outside, they weren’t allowed to be kids - do you know anything about them? Do you know that Klaus is brilliant at knitting, and that Vanya can be bribed into just about anything with butterscotch cookies? Do you know that Ben can’t get enough of soap operas, and that Luther would rather go a science museum over a gym any day of the week?”

Ellie shakes her head slowly. “Do you know that they’re all afraid of you? Does it make you feel big to have a bunch of children absolutely convinced that you would kill one of them to keep them in line?”

Reginald looks very tired. Ellie doesn’t feel very sorry for him though because she kind of wishes he was dead, so. “What do you want, Miss Fortuin?”

“Custody of the kids.” Ellie shoots back without hesitation. “I have the forms with me. I have arrangements made for a home inspection by the relevant people to make it official. I have the numbers of people to call to go through with it. They’re already living with me anyway, this would just make it official.”

“Why?” Reginald asks her, which is a fair question she supposes. She already has the kids and threatened Reginald into staying away from them, after all.

“It’s their birthday soon.” She tells him, after a long pause. “We finished the extension so they have their own rooms, even if they all end up camped in one. But I want to give them certainty. I want them to be absolutely sure that you can’t waltz right in and destroy everything that they’ve worked for. I want them to be less afraid.”

Reginald pulls the papers to him and starts scanning them, making Pogo (who had been standing silently by the door the entire time) start in alarm. “Sir? What about the apocalypse?”

And that just makes Ellie angry. She whirls around, jabbing a finger at the alarmed looking butler. “Why don’t you do something about the apocalypse, huh? Why don’t you fix the world? Those kids might have powers, but they are children. Fuck you for putting the weight of the world on their shoulders. Luther can pick up something really heavy? There’s an entire fucking sport that revolves around that, find one of those guys. Diego can curve knives? You built them a fucking robot mother I’m pretty sure it’s within your capabilities to makes some kind of targeting weapon. Heat seeking missiles exist, it’s not that much a stretch. Stop pinning all your hopes on them and start getting off your ass and do something yourselves you sanctimonious pricks.”

Pogo looks shocked. Reginald looks taken aback.

“They’re just little kids.” Ellie tells them, suddenly tired herself. “They’re just little kids. They aren’t soldiers in whatever war you’ve cooked up in your head. They deserve a chance to be happy.”

Reginald looks down at the papers, not managing to look her in the eye. “And if there is someone bringing about the end of the world? Will the children fight, then?”

“Maybe.” Ellie shoots back, no hesitation. “But before I let them have at it’s going to be me going in with my fucking wood axe first. Or at the very least I’ll be there right alongside them helping out. My axe will kill ‘em dead just as much as Diego’s knives or Vanya’s sound waves or Ben’s tentacles.”

Reginald sighs and signs the papers with a flourish. “Will there be anything else, Miss Fortuin?” He says it almost sarcastically, as thought he can’t imagine her needing anything else.

Ellie’s honestly surprised that it actually happened. She thought she’d leave her empty handed and furious but at least knowing she tried. She swipes the papers up into her hands, unwilling to give Reginald to chance to back out.

And then she decides to press her luck. “Actually, yeah. The kids want their mother back. I understand she’s a robot, so we’ll need the appropriate charging materials.”

Reginald raises an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll be back in a week to pick everything up. At the very least I’ll install charging stuff at my house so she can come and visit.” She feels a little bad for just demanding custody of the kids mother as if she’s just an object. Diego insists she’s a whole person who is just under the control of their dad, and unfortunate and hopefully fixable issue.

“It’s a robot.” Reginald says, almost dumbly. 

“She’s their mother.” Ellie corrects Reginald viciously, “And she did a damn sight better at parenting than you ever did, even though it must have been an uphill battle the entire time. I’ll be back in a week. Good day to you, sir.”

And with that she turns on her heel and strides out of the room, wondering when the fuck she turned into an angry character in some regency show. Good day to you, sir? Maybe it was the house. Or that ridiculous fucking monocle, god.

She almost runs right into Grace, who blinks at her and smiles beautifully.

“I’ll show you out.” Grace tells her, and Ellie doesn’t have anything to say to that. They get to the door, and Grace opens it, and - 

“Do you uh, do you want to come with us? In a week?” Ellie asks, before she gets all the way through, turning to Grace. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask I just - ”

“Thank you,” Grace cuts her off, eyes sparkling and Ellie knows she’s more than just a robot. “Thank you for taking care of my children. For doing what I could not. I will see you in a week.”

The door closes and Ellie is left on the other side with a whole bunch of papers in her arms and hope in her chest and the need to get in contact with more than one person to verify all of this and make this adoption go through.

There was still more to do - like changing the kids legal names (which were still numbers) and figuring out where the charging port and stuff would go in the house (would Grace want her own house?? Ellie was 100% sure they absolutely could not finish an entire small cabin in a week even between the eight of them but Ellie’s cabin wasn’t exactly as spacious as the mansion Grace would surely be used to - Ellie liked to refer to it as cosy)

(a week later, Ellie borrows a friend’s pickup and grabs all the stuff from the Hargreeves mansion she needs. Grace rides shotgun smiling the whole way there.)

(Ellie doesn’t mention that the ‘luggage’ Grace brought with her looks suspiciously like a wrapped up painting that may or may not have been stolen straight off of Reginald Hargreeves’ walls)

(Ellie might just be a little bit in love)

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Nutjob Twins’ Message (Pieces of the People We Love, Part 4.)

Series description: Not many people had the chance to see a vault or to mean anything in the world of Pandora. Will a hardly built relationship in the loneliness of the desert have the potential to change anything in the world of anarchy and chaos - or will the friends try to murder each other?

Part summary: After hearing the newest message from the nutjobs of “gods”, Scooter seemed to be sure that his friends and family are in trouble. Well, you knew where this was going and you didn't like it at fucking all. 

Warnings: A lot of guns, violence, reader is a tough badass - not a vault hunter tho. They’re badass and don’t give a fuck. And Scooter is a dumb bitch, as always. All Psychos and Fanatics are various Vine references - oh, what luck that reader can understand them since she is friends with Bandits.

Word count: 2.9 K

Tagging: @notaliteraltoad​

Series masterlist:  H E R E

Series playlist: H E R E

“Are you sure that these new vault thieves are your friends? I mean… Literally, any living remotely-human being on this planet is a fucking vault thief for that duo of crazy asses.” - Half an hour ago, you’ve made it to Pintley’s to hear his perspective on Scooter’s suspicions about his friends being the targeted ones. As per usual, you’ve had a can of Dr. Bob in your hand as you took a long swing of that nasty… Something and then, you gave a short look to Pintley. You took Scooter to Hell’s Cauldron immediately after that transmission to discuss everything. To have someone smart to help Scooter with settling on the plan he should choose. Like, you know, a good guardian.

You took him to the only other sane person in the radius of hundreds of miles, hoping Pintley would figure something out real fast - you still had your suspicions about being the one who’ll end up with Scooter and his little suicide mission project, but… A girl can dream, right? Maybe, these two men will actually come up with a smart plan that won’t involve you in the slightest.

So far it seemed, that everyone on Pandora, at least those who and working Echos or turned on radios, have heard. Maybe even other planets could hear the announcement, what could you know? Calypso twins were hunting some poor souls again - but just like you said before, that was none of your fucking business. Whoever these people were, they got into trouble on their own. You were just a small screw in the big scheme of things; so, whoever’s the trouble was, they needed to solve it… Right?

“Man, I’m sure-sure that this gal was talkin’ ‘bout my damn friends.” - Scooter answered with a sad tone of voice, making you come back to the present moment. Even if you were one crazy son of a bitch, you could hear the sadness and even understand it’s where it was coming from, to some extent. Maybe the alleged vault thieves were his friends, this time for real, but how could you know? Again - which part of it was your problem? Yeah, maybe it was Scooter’s problem. In that case, you’d be kinda sad too - and, without single regard or ill intent, you’ll wish the dude your best wishes if he decided to go and help them - but you weren’t about to lay a single finger on a thing that was supposedly connected to the vault hunting business. No. You already knew how the business was running; you’ve tried it, didn’t like it at all and it cost you your other arm. At that thought, you shivered a bit and caught to the steel that was now a part of your body.

“And how comes so?” - With a long sigh, you jolted on your chair as you stated Scooter down, trying to get to know what was going inside the small head of his. - “Tyreen didn’t name any names, did she, Scooterboy? Or did I just didn’t hear them? Damn, don’t tell me it’s my time to get an appointment at the doctor’s.” Sooner, way before the COV started to take over Pandora, the VH business was a dangerous and expensive one as well. It was only for those, who had little to lose. For those that knew their way with guns and those who were ready to commit themselves and their existence for the sole purpose of vault hunting. That was more than seven years ago. Now? It was the first sign you’d look for if you were worried that you’re either having some kind of psychosis or a serious mental diagnose, like being insane per se.

Your wish was to be a part of the legends that were told? Honey, you were more than ready to get a diagnosis and a stamp on top of that. The occasional meetings with the fanatics were more than enough for you. If these crazy asses would get to know or even hear a rumor that you’re helping the wrong side, their Gods’ nemesis, the vault hunters? Man, you would have a shit ton of them behind your back and a bounty pinned on your head. That was a no-no situation for you.

“Because there is only one siren on Pandora at the time and that’s Lilith.” - The man gazed back at you with an empty, deadly stare. You didn’t even flinch. What were you? A bitch to flinch under one not-so-nice look? Damn, the fuck you weren’t. “Technically, two and a half sirens are inhabiting the planet.” - Pintley mouthed out silently and progressed with doing the dishes. - “He has a good point, tho.” - Your best bud of the last couple of years finished with an innocent face, not daring to look at you. But you did know what he was trying to do and you weren’t about to simply give in because the old man had said so. Then, quite smoothly, you turned back to Scooter. “So, Scooterboy has a good point. And what? Why on Pandora should I even give a diddly-damn?” - The attitude you’ve given Pintley was more than well-known to him. Slowly, you slid your back to the chair as you waited for the rest of what he had so say. Oh, your gaze and expression were just daring Pintley to come for you and whoop your ass with all the arguments be got in store. At the exact moment and place, you were in your element.

Fighting arguments, that was where you succeeded 99.9% of the time. This was the sort of fight you preferred. - “Should I shit myself because boo-hoo, oh no, the baddies are after Lilith? Because they want to harm poor old Sanctuary? She, her Crimson Raiders and vault hunting ain’t my business, so I ain’t gonna put my nose somewhere where it... Shouldn’t. Fucking. Be." - Every word was accompanied by a thud, as the tip of your finger bounced from the table. - "They never did anything good for me - why would I willingly put my head down for them to get decapitated?” - The time on your voice was ice-cold, just like your eyes. Boy, you didn't realize how wrong you were at the moment, but that didn't slow you down at all. “And as for you, young man… I can pack you a lunch and wish you safe travels, if you wanna. But you should not expect any help from me, are we clear?” - With the last swing of Dr. Bob, you crushed the can with your metal arm, throwing it to the bin as you stood, putting your coat and large hat back on. Yet at that moment, Scooter did something anyone expected him to do. It honestly threw you off the rails.

The man talked back to you.

“Yea, man, ya a pussy, I can see that. Understood and noted. But because ya a bitch, ya goin’ let these people die? I know it's dangerous and beyond anyone's wildest darn dream, but that's the damn thrill, ain't it? That's why we're doin' that, aren't we, huh?” - Scooter was on his feet as well, throwing his dirty cap on the ground with something, that couldn't be described other than a sudden outburst of fury. He wasn't ending, but he had entertained you nonetheless. As you watched him gasping for breath, your metal arm went to grab the shotgun you had in your holster. “Excuse me if I’m wron’, but who destroyed Helios when Jack wanted to erase Pandora from the universe? Vault hunters. Who killed Jack? Again, man, it were the vault hunters. Who killed the darn destroyer not once, but twice, huh? Who's keepin' the COV away? Stop actin’ like a pussy and let’s help them while there’s still time to do so.” - At first, Scooter wanted to be rude at you - yet when you took the shotgun out and pointed its barrel right at his face, he suddenly shut up. The atmosphere got suddenly very, very uncomfortable.

“Listen to this, Scooterboy. I'm going to repeat myself - nobody... Nobody will be calling me a pussy or a bitch, can you hear me loud and clear?” -  Quickly, you put your metal arm for him to see before you hugged your gun tight again. - “This is how it looked the last time I was trying to brave like the vault hunters are rumored to be. So if I will have to repeat myself, then I’ll shoot you down like a practice target. Are we on the same wave?” - The sentence was practically hissed out and now, you were standing two mere feet away from him.

“Vault hunters and Crimson Raiders ain’t my concern at the slightest, you understand? I’m good on my own, I’m a lone wolf, not a team player. So please, go on, run and save your friends and get yourself killed in the process, if it makes you pleased. But don’t make me solve your fucking problems. Because you and I? We aren’t friends, Scooterboy.” - With every word, you made it clear that you might be just the rude asshole you first seemed to be. Maybe the spark of humanity Scooter saw before was an illusion? Maybe you were a nutjob, just like everyone else on this goddamned planet. It was Pintley, who saved the situation. The older man pushed Scooter behind his own back, stretching out his arms to protect the boy from getting shot. For a moment, you were still pointing your barrel at him, but then you put the gun down really fast. Pintley was Pintley; a mentor and a friend.

“Cowboy, that's just enough. Calm down and put the gun on the table, will ya?” - The pub owner said calmly, nodding his head at the table. That son of a bitch. Oh, you knew what bomb he’s about to drop. The m-bomb. Moral bomb. Slowly, you put the gun out of your reach and walked around a bit to calm down. From time to time, you shot a gaze in Scooter's direction, making him realize you're still not done with him. “I know that this is not what you want to hear rite now, but Scooter had a good point in what he’d said. Vault hunters, whether you like it or not, saved your ass more times than you can count on your fingers, and maybe, you don’t even realize any of that. You can’t be very ignorant when you want to, do you know that?” “And you can be a pain in my fucking ass, Pintley. I mean what I said. It's not my damn problem.” - Now, you were speaking with your mind a bit more clear and you knew that the situation went from 0 to 100 really quickly; partially because you could be a damn idiot and partially because Scooter accidentally remained you of the accident with your arm. Again, you shivered lightly and smoothed over the arm, looking away from both of them.

“Hey. I know since you were a small girl, don't I, huh? I know you have some unfinished business with the vault hunters. We all know you don’t like them. But hey, the least you can do is that you can give Scooter a headstart, how does that sound?” - Pintley asked with a small smile, running his fingers on his mustache. He was one sly motherfucker, that needed to be said. - “Nobody wants you to join their little scout troop, you can just... Help him get there, what about that?”

“What kind of headstart are we talking about here?” - Now, the anger turned into tiredness. Without asking Pintley, you slipped behind the counter and grabbed one bottle of vodka, drinking straight out of it. Right. You didn't have to head out on a huge adventure, you could just... Help a bit and then pretend you have never met Scooter before. Sounded good enough to you. “Maybe, you can enable him to travel the Fast Travel network? That should do the trick, huh?” - Pintley looked over his shoulder at Scooter, patting the man's arm. With a sigh, you leaned your elbows into the counter, taking one fucking long swing. No. You took it back. Pintley was insane. Fast travel was one of the things that Hyperion came with as well - a system of teleporting machines that absorbed your DNA, sent you through digital ports to your final destination, and there, the Fast travel station put your body together again. Said network was working all over the known galaxy and inhabited planets. But it wasn't working in Hell's Cauldron. You knew where the nearest working was, and very well, had to be noted. No. You weren't about to get yourself fucking killed.

“Are you seriously out of your mind?” - With another swing, you put the bottle down so violently that it almost crashed in your palm. Then, you stared at Pintley for a bit longer. - “Do you really want me to persuade the boys from Walrus to switch it on for Scooterboy?” - Most of the people in Hell's Cauldron knew who Walrus was. He was one of the few bandit barons that weren't insane enough to sign his boys up to the COV. He was insane and he wasn't exactly fond of you (which was your fault and you knew that), but he could still be considered an ally. “Basically. They like you, Blindy and Rayray owe you a lot. Try it, that’s the least you can do.” - The man walked to you, made you stand up, and then he carefully smoothed your shoulders, shaking you a bit. - “Bandits of Ham’s Creek know you and trust you in their crazy, weird way. Come on, Cowboy. Do it for me. Do it for him. Do it for the universe.” “Pintley, seriously, you want me to talk to the bandits.” - Now, you were whispering with not-so-slight irony. This was like the start of a freaking good anextode. - “These men… They don’t have a functional brain between them. They listen with their knees. I don't even know if they can speak our language and I'm still not the most fluent in psycho. If you forgot, these two nutjobs Rayray and Blindy, are the normal ones out of all the men that live there, and they are like… Batshit crazy, these two. The rest is straightway nuts. Do you even remember the last time they were celebrating? If not, too bad, because I fucking do.”

At this, Pintley stopped for a moment to give you serious look. Then, he smiled. - “Cowboy, come on. We both know you would do that if there weren’t the Crimson Raiders or vault hunters mentioned. You’re just being overly dramatic.” - His index finger flicked your nose and you opened up your mouth, searching for a valid argument. Without any success, you must've admitted. Then, Pintley looked at Scooter as he knew that he already won the moral persuading. “She’ll take you to Ham’s Creek. She’s just being too hot-headed.” - Your mentor winked at the mechanic and switched to his position behind a bar, giving you the vodka bottle you've already opened. The atmosphere inside the room slowly gotten a bit better as you put your shotgun back to the holster.

“Let’s fucking do this, then.” - A low growl came out of you as you finished the rest of the bottle, throwing it to the bin once more. With a surprising speed, you walked to the new functional Catch-A-Ride, asking for a light runner. “Ya mean right now? Like now-now?” - He said with a sign of worries in his voice. You looked at him with a snort and started the engine. “Now. Tomorrow’s late, Scooterboy. Crawl in, I just want it to be over already.” - As you pushed the gas pedal down, the engine howled loudly and you leaned into the leather seat with a long sigh. Then, you looked over to the scooter sitting in the gunner's nest. - “Remember, you’ll stay glued to my back at all times until we set our feet to the place do you understand what I’m saying? You move a foot away from me and they will make a delicious soup out of you.” “And aren’t they like… Asleep now or somethin’?” - He yelled back at you. You almost turned around and gave him an ironic look, but you just make the car rush forward. Bandits and asleep? Those words weren’t making sense when someone used them in one sentence. Those fuckers were running on an hour of sleep per day, or so you heard. That was why almost each one of them was batshit crazy. Good thing was that you didn't need any navigation - you knew the way to Ham’s Creek by your heart. You'd be able to drive there from literally anywhere in the proximity of sixty miles.

And only little did you know that this was the place where your trouble had started... And that it'll get progressively worse over time.

[maddisonsdrabbles]

Calthazar human soulmates AU

Prompt: The world is black and white until you see your soulmate.

Warnings: Fluff, background Debriel

Words: 1,662

~|~

Balthazar sat on the grass under the beautiful willow tree in his backyard, his life long best friend's head laying in his lap. Balthazar idly played with Castiel's dark hair, enjoying how he could make it stand up. In his opinion, Castiel looked so much sexier with his hair all mussed up. Well, in everyone's opinion if the stares were anything to go by.

It was a peaceful afternoon, a blissful breeze saving them from the blistering heat. Very cliche in Balthazar's eyes. Regardless, it was enjoyable.

"Hey Balth?" Castiel piped up softly. Balthazar looked down at him, a warm smile playing his lips as he gazed at his best friend.

"Yes Cassie?"

"Are we broken?" Castiel asked softly, making Balthazar recoil, eyes wide with bewilderment. Where had that come from?

"What?"

"Everyone our age always talks about how dull the world is being so monochrome..."

"...but it's not." Balthazar finished. "The colours are bright as they've been since we were kids." Castiel nodded, glad his friend understood what he was saying. "I suppose we're just luckier than them, dear Cassie. Usually only people who've seen their soulmates see colour."  

"Maybe in the nursery at the hospital as babies... I don't know. As far back as I can remember I've only ever seen colour." Castiel sighed.

"Is there really a problem in that, though?" Balthazar inquired. "The world is so beautiful like this..." Castiel offered a shy smile.

"That's true it's just..." He trailed off. Balthazar gave him a gentle peck on the forehead to encourage him on. Balthazar's friendly kisses never ceased to make Castiel blush like a cherry tomato. Balthazar usually just laughed brightly and made a comment about Americans being so weird or something of the likes. "I dunno. How are we supposed to know when we see our soulmate now?" Castiel sighed. Balthazar nodded slowly in understanding.

"I suppose we can only hope." Balthazar shrugged.

~|~

"Honestly, Balthazar, you're an idiot." Gabriel sighed. It wasn't an uncommon phrase to hear off his tongue as they sipped liquor together, lingering near the wall in the lavish party they were at. Truth be told they only came for the free liquor. They could care less for the trashy bodies dancing in a mass to whatever song played through the speakers that crackled when the bass thrummed too loud. "He clearly likes you back, just look at him! Whenever you're in the same room he migrates to your side. He stands closer with you than he does with anyone else, and I swear if you could see the way he looks at you while you're not looking! He's like a lovesick puppy." Gabriel raved.

"So you've said." Balthazar sighed. "But what if you're wrong? What if I say something and it ruins everything we have together? I don't think I could bear losing Castiel as a friend! I'd rather watch him hook up with Dean Winchester for all eternity than lose him as a friend." Balthazar sneered at the name, making Gabriel laugh that beautifully bright laugh of his.

"Listen to yourself, Bal! You're so jealous of whatever is happening between them that you can hardly say his name!" Gabriel teased.

"It's those bloody green eyes..." Balthazar muttered.

"And those back muscles... and that ass...." Gabriel added. He'd only seen the pictures Castiel showed him, but he certainly wanted to meet this Dean Winchester.

"You're truly not helping." Balthazar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Right, right, sorry." Gabe sighed. Balthazar shook his head, downing the rest of his drink. "You should throw a party. See which of you Castiel flocks to." Balthazar paused. That was actually decent advice. He eyed Gabriel slowly.

"Alright... but you've gotta come." He grinned. "Be my - what is it you Americans call it? Ah yes! 'Wingman'." Gabriel laughed heartily

"Alright Fancy Pants." He agreed.

~|~

Gabriel helped Balthazar with most of the planning and putting together for the party - and getting guests to come was certainly no challenged. Most of them were trashy 'friends' that flocked to Balthazar's wealth. He truly could care less about them, but it wouldn't be a party with only the four of them there. Castiel was never really one for the party crowd, but a little bit of coaxing from Balthazar had him reluctantly agreeing to join them, muttering something about taking care of Balthazar when he was wasted. Balthazar just smiled, pretending the sentiment didn't make his heart flutter.

Castiel was late, but Balthazar already knew he would be, since Castiel's little sister Anna would definitely haul him back when he was almost out the door because 'Castiel you are not wearing that to a party, you look like a pedophile'. Balthazar could already hear her saying it, picturing Cas trying to slip out the door in a plain suit covered by his trench coat.

Castiel knocked, as he always did, despite how many times Balthazar insisted he had no need to, given he practically lived there half the time. Castiel merely mumbled something about manners and continued to knock. Balthazar opened the door cheerfully, a bright smile on his face.

"Cassie!" He greeted, his eyes dipping down over Castiel's body. Skin tight jeans - the ones that brought out his ass impeccably - and a plain white dress shirt with the first two buttons undone. Not too fancy, but not to casual. Balthazar greatly appreciated the sight.

"Hello Balthazar." Castiel greeted with a smile.

"You look ravishing." Balthazar praised, offering a hand. "Come on inside." He invited. Castiel took his hand, allowing Balthazar to whisk him into the house full of loud music, flashy lights, and liquor.

"Castiel!" Gabriel hollered, skipping over. "Where's your friend? The one with the bubble butt from the pictures." He snickered. He was tipsy, but only a little, and had a cherry sucker in his mouth. Castiel sighed heavily.

"His name is Dean, and I didn't know he was coming." Castiel responded, looking to Balthazar with a brow raised. Balthazar shrugged.

"Figured I'd give my little wallflower someone to chat with when I inevitably get hauled away by some trashy blonde trying to get into my wallet through my pants." He chuckled, pressing a friendly kiss to Castiel's temple.

"I still don't understand why you are friends with people who would use you like that..." Castiel sighed sadly. Balthazar just shrugged.

"Oh hey, Castiel!" An all too familiar voice called, and Balthazar grudgingly turned to see Dean Winchester. He wasn't a bad person, Balthazar just couldn't stand to watch him and Castiel undressing each other with their eyes. It only crushed his heart a little bit.

"Hello Dean." Castiel greeted, making Dean's grin widen. Balthazar sipped his flute of champagne.

"So this is the legendary Dean Winchester?" Gabriel hummed, returning with a beer in hand. He stopped, staring at Dean with his jaw agape.

"Hello--" Dean's voice faltered as he stared at Gabriel like the smaller man had just shown him the world in a new light. Balthazar paused as it dawned on him. They truly were seeing the world in a new light. The moment of shock as they simply stared into each other's eyes lingered, and Castiel shuffled closer to Balthazar, leaning to his ear.

"We should give them some space." Castiel's low, gravelly voice rumbled in his ear. It send involuntary shivers down Balthazar's spine. He nodded, and they slipped away to the quiet of the kitchen.

"That was beautiful..." Castiel smiled warmly. It truly was something to watch two people realize they were destined to love each other until the end of time. "I wish I had the chance to have that happen." Castiel sighed dejectedly.

"It's really not that bad our way." Balthazar assured.

"But how am I supposed to know who I'm supposed to love!" Castiel retorted in distress. Balthazar sighed, drawing Castiel into his arms.

Castiel's friend Sam chose that moment to come into the room in search of snacks. He eyed them for a second.

"Sorry, were you having a moment?" He asked, quite tipsy. Balthazar sighed, releasing Castiel.

"Just... not sure how I'm supposed to meet my soulmate." Castiel sighed. Clearly he'd already informed Sam of his situation. Sam stared at the for a moment, before he burst out laughing. Castiel and Balthazar shared a confused look.

"Just means your someone is someone you've always known. Since you were a kid." Sam sighed, grinning as if he was waiting for them to catch on. They both gave him blank stares. "You two are obviously soulmates. I don't know how you didn't figure it out. You've known each other since you were kids, and you're clearly infatuated with each other." Sam pressed. "There's a bet going around on how long it's going to take you to figure it out-" He hiccuped. "I wasn't supposed to say anything so shh." Drunk Sam grabbed a bag of cheetos from the pantry before wandering off, leaving Castiel and Balthazar standing far too close, both blushing darkly and avoiding eye contact.

After awhile, Castiel cleared his throat, eyes slowly dragging up to look at Balthazar.

"Do you think he's right?" Castiel whispered quietly, for Balthazar's ears and Balthazar's ears only. Balthazar swallowed hard.

"Only one way to find out..." He murmured. Castiel gave him a confused look, before Balthazar elaborated by pressing his lip to Castiel's. 

Castiel melted into it, caressing Balthazar’s face as his heart soared. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Balthazar would reciprocate his feelings... Castiel pushes Balthazar to the wall, deepening the kiss.

When they finally drew away, Balthazar leaned his forehead on Castiel’s to keep the closeness.

“Is that a yes?” Balthazar murmured softly, because there was no need to be loud with Castiel so close their chests pressed against each other. Castiel chuckled softly. It was such a beautiful sound in Balthazar’s ears, and if he could smile brighter, he would.

“Yes, Balthazar.” He smiled, stealing another kiss.

~|~

Tag list: @petrichoravellichor

[seabasstrash]

Die a Happy Man~ S.S.

Word Count- 1140

Warnings- Fluff, implied smut 

A/N- OK so this is the first time I’m writing something based off a song so hopefully y’all enjoy it! It’s based off the song DIe a Happy Man by Thomas Rhett. If you would like to be tagged in my writings I have decided to make a taglist so feel free to message/send an ask and I will add you! 

Baby last night was hands down

One of the best nights

That I’ve had no doubt

Between the bottle of wine

And the look in your eyes and the Marvin Gaye

Then we danced in the dark under September stars in the pourin’ rain

Last night was one of the best nights you had had in a long while. Sebastian had taken you out to your favorite Italian restaurant for a nice dinner. He had ordered a bottle of wine and you both went through the whole bottle during dinner. You talked and laughed about everything while some Marvin Gaye played in the background. You both enjoyed the evening like it was the first time you had gone out.

Then, once you left the restaurant you decided to just walk around. As you were walking towards a park you heard some music coming from some street performer. He was playing Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis on his violin, which was one of your favorite songs ever. Your eyes lit up as soon as you realized what song it was and that was when Sebastian turned to face you and held out his hand. You grabbed his hand as your other one went to his shoulder while his other hand went to your waist. You danced along to the song, your head resting on Sebastian’s shoulder. Neither one of you said anything, you just enjoyed the moment.

Until it started to rain. Sebastian grabbed your hand and you both made a run for cover. You found a little shop that was still open so you popped inside to wait out the rain. Both of you were drenched so you couldn’t help but giggle at how you both looked. You decided to look around the shop to at least see what they had since you rain in there soaking wet. You found a few cute things that you decided to get for the house so you paid for it and then walked outside to head home since it had finally stopped raining.

You got home and set the bag down. Sebastian went to grab some towels so you can dry off a little bit. He comes back down the hallway and hands you a towel.

“Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome, doll.”

You dry off and before you can head to the bedroom to change out of your wet clothes and throw the towel in the dirty laundry you feel Sebastian’s hand grab yours and pull you into him.

You look up into his blue eyes and then he leans down and kisses you.

Baby and that red dress brings me to my knees

Oh but that black dress makes it hard to breath

You’re a saint, you’re a goddess, the cutest, the hottest, a masterpiece

It’s too good to be true, nothing better than you

In my wildest dreams

You were trying to pick out which dress to wear for the Endgame premiere. Sebastian had asked if you wanted to go and you said yes right away. Now it was a few days away and you still hadn’t figured out which dress you wanted to wear. You had narrowed it down to two, a red one that was very simple and had a slit on the one leg, and a black one that was shiny and had a belt and also had a slit on the leg.

You put the red one on and took a picture and sent it to Sebastian and then did the same with the black dress to see what he said. He was out doing some errands for you so you could stay home and get some work done around the house. You waited for his text back, which was taking a while. You decided to just continue cleaning the house while you wait for a text back.

It had been a while and you still hadn’t heard back from Sebastian. Then you hear the front door open. You keep cleaning the bathroom, it was the last room you had to clean and you wanted to get it done. You hear Sebastian set everything down in the kitchen and then you hear footsteps coming your way.

“Hey babe, did you get my texts? I can’t figu….” You started saying but Sebastian just walks right in and grabs you and pushes you up against the door and kisses you before you can finish your sentence.

You drop the rag that was in your hand and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull away after a bit to catch your breath.

“Well, hello to you too.” You say breathlessly.

“You can’t just send me pictures like that when I’m out getting groceries.” His voice a couple of octaves lower than normal.

“Oops.”

You grin and he crashes his lips on yours as he lifts you up and moves you both into the bedroom.

Afterward, your laying in bed cuddled up with Sebastian. Your tracing patterns onto his chest while he holds you and occasionally places kisses on your forehead.

“So which dress should I wear?”

“Well babe, you know what that red dress does to me, but that black dress…” - he sucks in a breath- “that black dress makes you look like a goddess.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so,” he turns to face you and kisses you again.

You wore the black dress to the premiere a few days later and not only was it a hit with everyone else but it made Sebastian go crazy the whole night. And let’s just say when you got home he showed you how crazy it made him.

I don’t need no vacation, no fancy destination

Baby, you’re my great escape

We could stay at home, listen to the radio

Or dance around the fireplace

“We should take a vacation,” you suggest out of the blue.

“Really? You think so?”

“Yeah, I do. We need to get away for a week or two. No social media, just us.”

“Babe, you know I don’t need a vacation to get away. You are my getaway. Honestly, we could stay here and watch movies, listen to the radio, dance around the living room, anything and it would be like a vacation for me.” He pulls you closer to him on the couch.

“Awe honey, I’m glad you feel that way. If that’s the case then I say we stay here and just turn our phones off. Maybe try a few things.” You run your hand up his chest.

“I see how it is.” He grabs your arms and flips you over so you’re laying on your back on the couch. He leans down and starts kissing you.

“Mmm, I could die a happy man here. I have everything I could ever want,” He whispers as he pulls away from the kiss.

PERMANENT TAGLIST:   @fortheloveofjbbarnes

[kdfrqqg]

Stolen Kisses

Pairing: Sam x Reader 

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: negative body image, mostly fluff

Dean had managed to convince you and Sam to get out of the motel room and blow off some steam during a case. You only agreed because you had been on the road non stop for almost a month and the prospect of getting drunk sounded pretty good. Watching the boys take turns kicking each other’s asses in pool and darts was mellowing you out as took a sip from your second beer of the evening. The oldest Winchester ditched both of you for a cute brunette with big boobs.

The night poured on and Sam and you grabbed a booth in the back, you slid in on the same side as him facing the patrons of the establishment to be on alert for any disturbances.

By this time, you had to have been five or six beers into the evening, honestly you didn’t remember, it could have been more. You were flirty with Sam, feeling the beautiful numbing of copious amounts of alcohol flowing through your system plus the feeling of privacy that the booth offered made you more daring than normal. Sam’s dimples showed as he smiled at you indicating his interest and a tiny hint of blush crept across his cheeks. Another beer or two and Sam’s lips had gravitated towards yours. The kisses were shy, sweet at first the emotions behind the kisses changed to needy, and wanting, but they were just kisses. Sam didn’t try to grope you or persuade you to do anything more, he was just happy to be kissing someone who understands him. The waitress informed you of last call, breaking away from the best make out session since high school, kisses that you didn’t know you longed for.

“No thank you, we’re good.” Sam told the waitress. “So that just happened” he nervously chuckled, “why don’t we pick this back up tomorrow when we aren’t so…”

“Lonely.” You finished his sentence.

“I was going to say drunk but yeah lonely works. Wait, you’re lonely too?” He questioned.

“Yeah, all the time, even at home.” You kissed his swollen lips, “Tomorrow is going to be awkward isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t have to be.”

“Should we tell Dean?” You asked.

“Let’s discuss that later,” he laced his fingers into yours. “Tell me what you want?”

“I want to go back to the motel and have you hold me all night.” It was an intimate request, that would have never passed your lips had you not still been a little buzzed. Sure, sex would have been nice but neither one of you really needed that, what you wanted was a companion to share this crazy life with.

The motel was only a few blocks away and the suggestion to just hold each other sounded even better as the cold night air hit your face sobering you up a bit on the walk back.

Days turned into weeks of stolen moments and passionate kisses. You were happier, Sam was happier and Dean pretended he didn’t know but he could see it, he could see that you and Sam were becoming something more.

“Why are you all smiles today?” Dean asked you.

“No, reason it’s just a good day.” You looked down pushing a piece of hair behind your ear, trying your hardest not to look at Sam.

“Ok, but whatever you’re doing keep it up because you look radiant.” Dean kissed the top of your head before walking out of the kitchen.

“You do look radiant by the way.” Sam leaned in to kiss you quickly before Dean came back in.

“We should tell him. He already knows.” You whispered.

“Ok!” Sam nodded, your hand lifted to his face kissing him deeper and deeper you were in your own little world.

You heard a cough come from the door. Gasping for the air that was burned from your lungs by Sam’s amazing kiss, you turned to Dean. You didn’t intend to tell him this way.

“Um… Dean” Sam lowered his head, “we are seeing each other.”

“Yeah, I have eyes.” Dean snarked back, “So what y'all have been together for about a month now?”

“Yeah.” The air just slipped past your lips.

Dean chuckled, “and you haven’t even taken her out on a real date yet. Didn’t I teach you better than that?”

You smiled and ran over to Dean pulling him down into a large hug. “Whoa! What’s this for?” He laughed holding you tighter pulling you up closer to him as your feet came off the floor.

“For being an awesome older brother.” you sweetly kissed into his neck.

“You know if you want me clear out any night so that you can have some quality time just let me know.”

Sam took your hand, “Thanks, man! When we’re ready we’ll let you know.”

Now that everyone knew, Sam always slept in your bed, sometimes he was the big spoon and other days he was the small spoon and sometimes you wanted some space but still held hands while you both laid on your backs. You never thought in your wildest dreams that a man would satisfy your emotional needs long before he satisfied your physical needs.

Sam and you were making out in the front seat of the Impala after getting a couple of slices at the local pizza parlor. He tasted like garlic and pepperoni but you didn’t care because you probably did too. His hand grasped the fat of your thigh before moving it’s was up to your waist. You pulled away when his hand started to massage your breast.

He calmly stated, “You know you always do that, when I touch you there.”

“I know I’m sorry, it’s just you’re so perfect with all your muscles and that's my problem area.”

He looked at your ample amount of cleavage, “That’s your problem area?” He tilted his head, wondering what the hell you were talking about.

“Well they look good now!” You exclaimed, “But that’s because they’re in a push up bra. But when I take this off, my boobs are all saggy and shit and I have huge nipples that just aren’t sexy. I’m just not perky like other women are.”

“I don’t care about your breasts, all I care about is you. I thought I had made that clear. I’m pretty sure they’re beautiful and you’re overreacting. You know, I haven’t been this happy since…” it was hard for him to say it.

“Since Jessica.” You helped him finish.

“Yeah, since Jessica.” He kissed your bottom lip in a way that had you wanting more.

“Me too. Not since Mark.” A long dead boyfriend killed by a ghost before you ever met the Winchesters.

“You and Mark were together for what two years?” Sam asked and you nodded. “He saw you naked all the time didn’t he.” You just kept nodding. “Why is it so hard to show me your body? I’m going to love you no matter what.” He admitted.

“Well Mark was a little on the chubby side and he had his flaws and I had mine. So I didn’t mind showing him but you’re just so fit. I mean I’m fit too, sure, I could stand to lose a little weight but overall I’m nicely proportioned.” You rambled, finally your mind finished processing what he said. “Do you just tell me you love me?”

“You caught that.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I want to take you home and make love to you over and over again.”

“Now that’s a lot of love there buddy.” You giggled taking his hand. Thinking that was the best idea he has ever had.

“So is that a yes?” He asked.

You pressed him back against the door unbuttoning the top part of his shirt and kissing his chest, you licked your lips and your gaze darkened with lust. “I love you so much. Yes, please take me home.”

He smiled fishing keys out of his pocket. “Then let’s go!”

I love all the likes and reblogs but I really do want your feedback. Please leave me a comment; let me know what worked or what didn’t. If you hated it let me know what I could do different. It may determine how I write my next fic.

“Give it to me! You know you want to!” Writer winks at reader.

MY MASTER LIST Thanks for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged.

Everything @bandobsession98, @greenappleeyes, @honeybeetrash, @chaos-and-the-calm67, @18crazybutcutealsopsycho, @xdifsx, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @queen-of-deans-booty, @notnaturalanahi, @justanotherdeangirl, @samwinjarpad, @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel

Reader insert @jensen-jarpad

[totallysupernaturaloneshots]

Perfect

A/N: So this is one of the requests I’ve been meaning to write! I’ve finally got it finished and honestly, I’m proud with how it came out. This was requested a while back by @clairebear322. (For some reason I can’t tag her? I’m thinking maybe she changed her username since it was requested.)

Author: Becca (@totallysupernaturaloneshots)

Word Count: 1,743

Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, Castiel

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: self body hatred, mentions of fat shaming, jealousy, nudity(no smut), fluff

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; }

Summary: When Sam finds out how the reader truly feels about her looks, he does everything in his power to make her feel beautiful.

Life as a hunter wasn't always easy. Hell, it was never easy. Always on the lookout, always in potential danger. It was a life one could never escape. You felt doomed for the rest of your life. That was until you met the Winchesters.

You backed away from all of the bodies spread out across the room. Every single one of your friends you hunted with were dead, taken out by a nest of vampires. It was down to you to take the remaining vamps out. You and your group had managed to take out the first five, but the other ten were a lot stronger and managed to take out your entire group, except you. Ten on one wasn't an easy task, but you managed to take out four of them all on your own. The last six were hard, they were more powerful than the other nine you took out, and they ended up cornering you. You felt your heart pounding in your chest as they got closer to you. Each step they took, you prepared yourself for your life to end. But right as they were about to attack, the entire room lit up and each vampire fell to the floor, completely lifeless. You looked up in shock, watching as three figures made their way over to you.

“Hey. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?” The taller, shaggy haired one asked gently.

“N-no,” you shook your head. “But... But all my friends are dead.”

“Yeah. We uh, we saw when we came in.”

Tears welled in your eyes and you shook your head once more.

“We thought we could take them out on our own, but... God, they ripped their throats out... I had to take them out on my own. I took four of them out, but the last six were a lot harder. More powerful.”

“You took four out on your own? That's... That's not bad, considering the circumstances.”

You nodded your head, taking a deep breath before looking up at the three men.

“How... How did you guys take them out like that?”

The shorter, gorgeous man chuckled, pointing to the one in the trench coat.

“Our buddy here is an angel.”

“Like... a real angel? Angel of God?”

“I am,” he smiled with a slight nod. “My name is Castiel.”

“Amazing,” you breathed, looking at the angel in complete awe. “I've never met an angel before.”

“We rarely ever came down to Earth before this, but once we heard of the demons plans to spring Lucifer free from his cage, we had no other choice. And we've been here ever since.”

“I remember that. He was stopped though, right? He's back in his cage?”

“Oh yes. He's very well locked away again. And wanna know he we know?” The shorter man chuckled.

You only nodded in response.

“We took him down ourselves.”

“Really?” You smiled.

“Mmhm. We're Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm Dean and my brother over there is Sam.”

“Wait... You're THE Sam and Dean Winchester?”

“Yes we are.”

“Holy... holy crap. I've heard so much about you guys. I've been training to be just as great a hunter as you guys.”

“Really? Well, you're pretty much there. You took four vamps down on your own. Not everyone can do that. Especially with the odds you had,” Sam grinned.

You looked down with a blush, biting your lip.

“Well, thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

You smiled at the memory, glancing over at Sam from the corner of your eye. Ever since that day, you had a longing for Sam, but never in your wildest dreams did you ever expect him to ask you on a date then ask for you to be his girl. To say you were the happiest you'd ever been would be an understatement.

Sam looked over at you, a smile lighting up his face. You blushed and looked down with a smile. Dean noticed the small actions and rolled his eyes.

“Could you two not eye fuck right now? We have a nest of vamps to take out.”

This time you rolled your eyes and threw Dean the middle finger.

“Ha ha. Real mature, Y/N. Seriously, this is the biggest nest of vamps we've ever come across and you two are going to stare at each other like that?”

“What, Dean? Never been in love before?” You teased.

“Oh shut up,” he grumbled.

You smirked to yourself before taking in a deep breath.

“So, are we going to get this show on the road or what?”

“Yeah. Let's do this.”

“I need a damn shower,” you mumbled, trying not to gag due to the smell of your blood soaked clothes.

The hunt was a success and yet another vamp nest was no more. It felt great to rid those suckers, no pun intended, from the world. They, along with the werewolves, were the worst.

Sam chuckled before walking over and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Go shower, babe. I'll be in the room waiting for my turn.”

“Okay,” you grinned, giving him a quick peck on the lips before walking toward the bathroom, not too far away to miss overhearing Dean mutter a “Why don't you take a shower together.” You threw your head back and laughed at the comment. Dean may have gotten on your nerves a lot, but he still managed to make you laugh.

You reached the bathroom and took a nice, long hot shower. It was honestly the most cleansing shower you've ever had. You felt the stress of the hunt wash away, along with the thick blood coating your skin. It was freeing. You let out a long content sigh, your face lighting up with a smile. You truly were a great hunter. You were confident in everything you did, except, there was one thing you weren't confident about. Your looks. You were bigger than most other girls. Especially the girls Dean brought back to the motels. You'd look at them when you first saw them and just wonder how they looked so much better than you. You hated it. All you wanted was to feel beautiful for once. To just look at yourself and not think a single negative thing about the way you looked.

You knew you would never lose enough weight to look the way those girls did. You were considered a “thick” girl and being big was sorta frowned upon in other societies. There were pictures all over the web of fat shaming and it never made you feel any better about yourself.

You felt a few tears slip down your face and you snapped out of your reverie to wipe them away. You shook yourself back to reality and finished your shower. You finished pretty quickly and squeezed the water out of your hair before getting out to wrap your towel around yourself. You headed back to yours and Sam's room, your wet feet padding along the tiled hallway floor. When you reached your room, Sam looked up at you with a smile.

“Hey. You took a pretty long shower. Everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Everything's fine,” you smiled, lying through your teeth.

Sam raised his eyebrows, a small frown forming on his face.

“Y/N... I can clearly tell that you're lying. Please, tell me what's wrong. I'm sure I can help.”

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes.

“You can't. There's nothing you can do about this,” you mumbled, motioning to your body.

Sam widened his eyes at your response, quickly moving so he was directly in front of you.

“Y/N... Don't ever think so wrongly of yourself.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms.

“Sam, I think this way everyday. I just can't help it.”

“Y/N, you are beautiful just the way you are.”

“Seriously? All the girls Dean brings back to the motels are always ten times hotter than me. You can't tell me--”

Sam cut you off with a kiss, his arms gripping you tightly. You kissed him in return, a gasp escaping your lips. You pulled back slightly, your forehead resting against his.

“What was that for?” You whispered.

“I want to show you just how perfect you are.”

“Sam...”

“Shh. Just let me.”

You contemplated for a moment before finally letting out a sigh and nodding. Sam smiled at you, grabbing the towel and removing it from around you. You watched as he dropped the towel to the floor, a light blush forming on your cheeks. You met his gaze, noticing how his eyes had glazed over with adoration. You bit your lip, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips found your neck.

“Mmm,” you hummed, tilting your head sideways to grant him better access.

He slowly backed you towards the bed, pushing you down with a light push. You looked up at him, watching as he crawled his way up the bed and pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. You closed your eyes, letting out a breath as he caressed your sides and placed small kisses across your shoulder and down your arm. He trailed his way back up and made his way down your chest, kissing and nipping at your skin.

“You're perfect...” Kiss. “In every way possible...” Nip. “I love everything about you.”

He continued his way down your body, praising every inch of you he possibly could. The way he was making you feel was not a feeling you were used to. He was making you feel like a Goddess, like you were the most perfect woman on the planet.

“I love you, Y/N. Always have, always will.”

You felt a tear sting your eyes, a small sob escaping your lips. He looked up at you, concern in his eyes, but you only shook your head with a smile.

“I love you too, Sam. I don't know what I'd do without you. No one's ever made me feel this way before.”

A grin spread across his face and he only tilted his head to the side.

“Well, looks like I'm going to have to do this more often then, huh?”

“That would be perfect.”

[kv-central]

Langst is becoming my muse

Anyways, more Langst(a continuation of my last post…? I mean, all of that is covered here so if you haven’t read it just go on my blog and look at the langst tag… I’m on mobile so I can’t link it here) In a small fanfic I guess. Klance/Klangst. (I HC them as 17-18 for this one.) @teddyandgriffin — “Empty.” Lance looked at his favourite face mask. He tried not to let it bug him as he grabbed a different one. Looking into the mirror was hard. He didn’t like the face he saw looking back. It had too many blemishes and a breakout of blackhead freckled his nose and cheeks. So he instead watched his hands in the mirror as he applied the mask. Once finished, he walked out of the bathroom connected to his room and sat on his bed as he waited for the twenty minutes to pass. He looked at his hands. The skin was a bit dry, but nothing major. Though, his nails looked horrible to him. They were short, but chipped from his constant biting them. The cuticles were grown over half the nails, and just looked messy. They looked dirty. His eyes traveled to his arms. The scars were probably two years old. A lot of them older than that. They shined in the light of his room. Scowling, he checked one that was particularly big. It stretched from his wrist, under his thumb and straight up to a little over half his forearm. That scar was ugly. Probably needing stitches, but never receiving them. Instead, he remembers just pretty much duct taping his skin together until it healed. He didn’t want to burden his family with medical bills. And he deserved the pain he felt every time he ripped off the tape to put fresh tape on. “God, I am so fucked.” He thought, remembering when he had done it. Looking at the timer, he still had fifteen minutes left. Groaning, he laid back on his bed. He knew he was being unhealthy. It had been a year or so, and he thought he could handle it better. But it never changed. He never changed. He thought about how he noticed Hunk giving him weird looks every now and then. Usually he’d be able to shrug it off. But what if he was looking at how bad his face broke out? God he probably looked disgusting. Or what if Hunk was just mad he interrupted whatever he was doing? What if Hunk was noticing the way Lance was falling apart? No, there was no way. Coran had been acting weird too. He’s always asking how Lance is doing. Which is confusing because he wants so desperately to be truthful. But how selfish could he be? To burden Coran when he already had so much going on with trying to protect the paladins, castle and Princess? So he would tell him he’s fine. He is, people have probably had it worse than him. He thought of how Keith had been becoming nicer? He wasn’t really arguing back as much and actually had been playing along with Lance too. Which only made him more confused. Did he know about Lance’s small(but growing) crush on him? Was he just being nice out of pity? Was it all a joke? A small part of him hoped Keith liked him back too. He felt his face heat up at the thought. He wondered what it felt like to run his hands through Keith’s messy hair. Was it soft or rough? The few times he has seen him smile and laugh, he imagined those smiles and laughs directed at him. His timer rung out and Lance flew up, face a lot hotter than it was before. Quickly getting up and rushing to the bathroom, he washed off the mask. After pat drying his face, he glanced in the mirror. His face was still blemished and blackheads still there but he deemed himself decent. Sometimes he’d wish he could be those people who could wear make up and be confident in how they look. But the last time he tried putting on foundation and the works, he broke down. He couldn’t stand the fact of how much better he looked with it on. He cried so much while washing it off and then felt so stupid about it. He never touched make up again. He walked into his room and turned off the light as he flopped onto the bed. He curled up under the blanket and tried to fall asleep. — He couldn’t sleep. Lance had a mini tantrum, kicking his legs and hitting his arms against the bed. Maybe he needed a walk. So he started to make his way down the halls of the ship, the dim lights making it seem emptier than usual. He found himself in the room where he could watch the stars. Siting down on the floor, he watched the stars. Thoughts of his family flew into his mind. He missed them. He thought they’d never miss him, why would they? They were all probably busy with their lives.

He thought of how many times they’d go out to do things and would often forget to bring him with them. It wasn’t their fault, but he just wishes he was more… He wishes they’d remember him. He got along with all his siblings, but he was never the one they came to confide in. His mom loved them all but when he went to the Garrison, she’d never really call him. It hurt. It hurt because he was so easily forgettable. But regardless of all that? He missed them. He missed them so much. His moms was always there, and if he felt bad or just wanted a hug for comfort, he knew he could just go to her and hug her. She’d always reassure him. “You’re important Lance. I’m so sorry that I’m not always there for you. I love you so much. You will do great things, I believe in you.” She’d rub his back as he let silent tears fall. His younger siblings bright personalities helped cheer him up when he felt sad or lonely. He’d walk into one of their rooms where they’d be gaming and would jump onto the bed. They’d all laugh and tease each other, usually Lance would end up cuddling one of them while they’d play and complain. His older sibling would take him for drives if he felt like crap or needed to vent. They’d talk while he’d vent about all his insecurities, his older sister always being the best. She’d always have advice or give him reassurance. He remembers his Dad. His Dad always tried so hard to understand him and always accepted him. When he first came out, his Dad was there to support him. He never realized he started crying remembering them. He couldn’t stop. He remembered they’re smiling faces, the way they’d all laugh and joke around. He missed them so much. He couldn't help it when he crumpled up into a ball. He wished his sister was there to tell him he's okay and his mom to hug him while he cried. For his dad to smile and tell him that no matter what, he loved him. For his siblings to all laugh and joke to try and cheer him up. For his younger siblings to hug him and tell him about their days or their troubles they had. He missed the way he'd watch the sunsets while he would ride his bike around the neighbourhood. When it would rain and him and his siblings would play in the rain or go for walks and then go home cold and shivering only to be scolded by their mom while she made them hot chocolate. How they would all say it was worth it while they cuddled up under a blanket. He missed laying in the grass at the park while he stared at the clouds and imagined his wildest dreams come true. He missed his old friends. The ones he grew up with, all of them the group of social outcasts in a way. All without a care in the world and yet they all struggled with similar problems. Sure, some of them would be called losers for being dropouts and battling addictions but Lance knew why they were like that. He understood and they were so proud of him for resisting every part of himself that would drag him down. Though, even if he was getting depressed and worse(more so than usual), they'd cheer him up by taking him down to the river to swim or by lighting up fireworks. He missed them all so much; friends, family, his old neighbourhood and so much more. He didn't notice when Keith came in. He didn't even notice Keith awkwardly hug him or when he pulled himself into the red paladins chest and sobbed. Keith was just walking by when he saw Lance curled up on the ground, crying as he held himself. He knew that Lance had been falling apart but to see it, especially when the blue paladin always tried to make light of everything by joking around. He stood in front of him, about to ask if he was okay when he saw how red and puffy Lance's eyes were. So he sat down and awkwardly wrapped his arm around him. Taken off guard by the way Lance clung desperately at him as he sobbed into his chest, Keith wrapped both arms around him. "Hey, its okay man." He murmured, his hands rubbing the darker boys' back. They sat there for a long time, Lance's sobs quieting down as he felt sleep creeping up on him. Calming down a bit, Lance tiredly noted that Keith was holding him. Too tired to care as he felt his mind tugging him into darkness, he nuzzled into the embrace. Sitting in the dark with a passed out Lance on his chest, Keith didn't know what to do. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back a bit, his other hand supporting him. "How the hell do I pick him up?" He wondered out loud. Looking down at the sleeping paladin, he ran his free hand through his hair. "Soft." He thought, smiling a bit. He knew his little crush on Lance was probably going to get worse with what happened tonight. He blushed at the remembering how tightly he held the crying boy. Shaking his head, he stood up and decided to pick Lance up bridal style as he made his way to the rooms. He tried Lance's room, but the door wouldn't open for him. Groaning, he went to his room which was thankfully, beside Lance's. He walked in and placed the sleeping boy onto his bed. He pondered for a moment if it'd be weird if he slept in the same bed with him or not. But what happened seemed to have broken unspoken boundaries and honestly? Keith really didn't care that much. He threw off his shirt, tears and snot starting to dry on the front. After putting on a clean shirt, he crawled into bed beside Lance and fell asleep listening to the soft breathing beside him.

[thelovelysecret-blog]

I’m Super Fucked Up and That's My Charm

This is one of my most wildest nights in my life so far. So, a little background info for you… I am from one state down south. At some point my family moved up north and I stayed down south for college. I would go stay with my family for breaks and whatnot. I was home for winter break one year in college and towards the end I got an invite from my friends that live down south to come back a few days early. They were planning on all staying at a friends house who lived within walking distance from the bars and planned on going out as a new years thing. Not wanting to miss out on a fun night I planned on driving back to get there to tag along. I pack my things up the night before and head out in the morning. It is about a 9 hour drive and I planned on arriving at my friends house around 5 so that I could get a quick nap and a shower in… I didn’t get there until about 7. I showed up just in time for everyone to start getting their pre-game on. I walk into the house and am instantly greeted by everyone and am handed a shot. I was exhausted but I knew that there was no way I could squeeze a nap in… so I decided to go all in and take a row of shots and get myself hyped up. We planned on leaving around 9-10ish so I hopped in the shower and washed off the nasty car ride. As I am getting ready on of my close girl friends, D, comes to keep me company and catch up. We talk about how much fun we are going to have and she helps me pick an outfit. Naturally our conversation leads to who we want to end up with by the time the night ends. She has a boyfriend, B, but they had this open relationship/agreement going on. I had a few guys in mind. First contender was G. He was fun but wishy washy when it came to girls. We had an on and off again thing and had hooked up a few times. Second was Tony. We had a more serious fling (that’s another story for a later time) but I was not in a place for a relationship and worried that hooking up might cause problems down the road… and last was laps. He was a bit of a mystery to me. Couldn’t really read what was going on with him but he could cook and he put off a vibe that I was really digging. So at this point I was aiming for laps but the night was early and I was just along for the ride. At the end of the convo, I decided to put on this low cut v-neck skater dress that showed off my boobs and a burgundy suede blazer. I forgot to pack shoes to go with it so I paired it with some black leather sneakers. Not my best outfit but I didn’t care. I emerge from the bedroom looking good and the guys were not scared to say so. A few of us went to the porch to have a cig. While out there, D pulled out a little baggy of molly and offered everyone a little dip in his fun bag. I had never tried it but like I said, I was just along for the ride. Everyone partook and went back inside. At this point I had forgotten all the shots I took and was feeling pretty good. Took a few last minute shots and everyone headed out the door to the bars. We were a group of about 12 "squaded up" taking the 15 minute trek to get there. By the time we got there, I completely forgot about the little bit of molly I had done and was ready to get wild. Started out as a typical night out. Got a few drinks, shyly stood to the side watching everyone dance. I want to say it was at about the 4th drink in that I realllly felt good and forgot about the world around me. It was just me and my friends having a good ass time… I started getting hazy and D pulled me in to dance with her and her boyfriend. I was starting to get the tingles and butterflies. I didn’t realize it until the next day but this was the molly mixing with the alcohol. That’s when I look over and I see laps dancing next to me, we get close and its turning me on. Next thing I know he is gone and I'm back over with D and B. at some point me and B start making out. I felt a bit weird about it because that’s Ds boyfriend and she is standing right next to us…. So I did the only reasonable thing… I stopped making out with him and switched to her. At some point I got stuck in a loop. Laps came back so I danced with him again, he left, I went back to B and D and switched back and forth making out with them… I was in my own little world and I loved it. It was late and I found myself dancing with laps again. I did not want him to disappear on me again so I did what any drunk molly'd out girl would do. I grabbed his dick while we were grinding on each other. He was hard as fuck and I knew I had him. He "whispered" in my ear, "wanna get out of here" and we were gone. He called for an uber as I went to the bathroom. I caught a glimps of myself in the mirror and I looked a hot mess. I made the mistake of wearing red lipstick and it was all over my face… I was shown a picture of B the next morning and he had it worse than I did… back to the uber and laps waiting for me outside. At this point I was stumbling pretttty badly. Laps got me in the uber and once again, I was in my own little world not paying attention to those around me. At some point I remember the uber driver asking if I was good. I was hella good. We make it back to the house and nobody else is there… and the doors were locked. Laps knew he had to get me into this house fast. I had forgotten my jacket, the dress was sleeveless and my legs were bare and it was about 40 degrees outside (I was fine earlier in the night, I had come from up north where it had been snowing and in the negatives and it felt kinda warm compared to up north). He tried breaking in by using a debit card… did not work. I was useless in any attempt we made trying to get into the house. I was all giggles and silly dirty talk. Eventually he started trying the windows. There was one that was open and it was about at my shoulders when I was standing next to it. He managed to get himself in the house and as he is opening the door to let me in the first group arrived back at the house… with the key. The group consisted of angry guy (upset that the girl he was into wanted someone else), mcdonalds (was going to get food to try and sober up angry dude) and like 2 other people that were just there. We were kept from taking over a bedroom and hung out with the group for like 10 minutes. Eventually mcdonalds left to get food. I was hungry and told him to get me something. Me and laps finally break away and decide on tony's room… which looking back on it was so awful of me since me and tony had this weird thing going on the summer before. But we shut the doors as we are tearing each others clothes off. The sex was good but I was so gone in the mix of being molly drunk that I honestly don’t remember a whole lot of it. What I do remember is hearing angry guy yelling, we both decide to ignore it and continue on. I also remember mcdonalds knocking on the door to tell us to stop so I can get my food… we didn’t stop. We finish and both kinda pass out on the bed. At some point I wake up to this feeling of warmth and realize that laps was trying for round two. Im getting eaten out when I realize that laps is passed out on the bed next to me. I look down and see that its B. Im like, oh shit, shrug and enjoy it. At some point I realize that D is sitting on the bed on the other side of me watching. It felt like something you would see on a porno. Right before we really start getting into it Tony knocks on the door telling us to get out of his room because he is tired. I am butt ass naked and I am scrambling to get dressed because it finally hits me that I am an awful person for fucking in his bed and he is not the fuckee. We get laps up and I cant find my bra and panties so at this point I just toss my dress back on and say fuck it. We evacuate the room and claim the couch that pulls out into a sofa. Its D, B, me and then laps. Im starting to sober up and just wanna cuddle with laps but he is out and B is cuddling up to me and im starting to feel awkward about everything. We all pass out and wake up the next morning to try and figure out what the fuck happened. I went to pee and found a destroyed bathroom only to remember angry guy. Apparently what me and laps heard the night before was angry guy locking himself in the bathroom and went hulk mode. Threw everything on the floors and I think even punched a hole in the wall behind the door, before getting into the shower to cry. Felt bad for the guy, he was sweet. As I was in the bathroom I remembered that I still was missing my bra and underwear and went on the hunt to find them. I walked into Tony's room only to feel like even more of an ass because my bra and underwear were tossed over the back of his desk chair in plain sight like I left it as a reminder that it was not him in that room with me the night before (I obviously still feel awful about this 5 years after the fact). We all got dressed, cleaned up a bit and said our goodbyes. Quite a few people lived like 2 hours away and they went home. I hung out for a bit before going back to school. The weird thing about it all was how boring the next day was. Like the night before never happened. But man, I will never forget it.