#like she's a weirdo book girl she just also has a gun

[masschase]

Casey Belle isn't real and she can't shoot me

Casey Belle:

This is the most 'internet' thing I have done

[gudfornuthin]

Teenage Dirtbag

Eddie Munson x reader

She’s the most popular girl in school. And he’s just the freak. Maybe people shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

A/N: based off the song narrative of Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus. I really loved writing this, I enjoy creating stories based off of songs. So if anyone has other music you want me to base stories on, don’t hesitate to ask! Feedback is greatly appreciated❤️

The Hellfire Club had ended their campaign earlier than expected. They were pissed, obviously, but the dungeon master had good reason to cut it short. That reason being the cheer squad practicing out on the field at the same time. He wasn’t big on school spirit and didn’t care for any form of sport. But the one thing, or person, Eddie took an interest in was the cheer captain, Y/N.

She wasn’t Eddie’s usual type. Popular, athletic, preppy. Way out of his league, obviously. But the boy couldn’t help the attraction he had towards her. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh. God, it was infectious.

Eddie walks out of the building and makes his way to the field, beelining for the bleachers. He doesn’t want to seem like a creep, but he also has a reputation to uphold. If people found out that the freak was watching cheer practice every week for an hour, he’d never live it down. He leans on his arms, peaking through the gaps and scanning the cheerleaders. He spots her in the middle, stretching her arms and leaning from side to side. She wears white tube socks and bright yellow Keds. Most couldn’t pull that off. But to Eddie, she rocks it. He wants nothing more than to tell her that, but she has no idea who he is.

“So this is why we have to cut Hellfire short?”

Eddie jumps and turns around, the sarcastic question coming from none other than Dustin Henderson. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, pleased with the older boys scared reaction.

“Henderson. You shouldn’t creep up on a guy when he’s-“

“When he’s acting like a perve.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply. He knows it’s weird for him to do this. But he’d rather admire from afar then be put in his place if he so much as smiles at her. Although, she’s the problem. It’s her dick of a boyfriend. He doesn’t know much about him, only that he plays on the basketball team and lives on his block. Somewhere else he sees her frequently. Driving down the street together in his IROC, her bare legs hanging out the window. Her boyfriend also carries a gun around school. Why, Eddie couldn’t begin to imagine. He definitely doesn’t want to find out.

“You know,” Dustin pipes up, “Y/N isn’t judgemental like her friends. Or boyfriend.” Eddie chooses not to question how he knows she’s the one he’s been looking at. “She’s always been open-minded. Might be willing to get to know Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson. Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy.”

At that, Eddie goes to push the younger boy, but misses, as Dustin runs off snorting. He wishes he could believe those words. That maybe you wouldn’t look at him the way everyone else does. That you’d see past the messy hair, leather jackets and unsavoury music. But he couldn’t. because he was just that. The freak. The weirdo. The dirtbag. He huffs and walks away from the bleachers, feeling down on himself.

---

Why Eddie had agreed to take all the kids to prom, he’ll never know. But as they all pile out of the van, chatting animatedly about decorations and people’s outfits, he sits back with a cigarette in hand. He had nowhere to go, and they’d all be ready to leave in a couple hours, so there was no point leaving to have to drive back.

He waves half-heartedly at them as they walk into the gym and lights up. Eddie closes his eyes and breaths out. He hates to sit and mope, but it’s hard not to knowing everyone else is having fun. While he sits alone, waiting for a bunch of 14-year-olds. What a loser.

No soon after the kids have left, Eddie begins to grow restless. He looks at the doors, seeing the flashing lights and hearing muffled music. It couldn’t hurt to poke his head through and scope the place. No one would see him. He’s never been to the prom before, albeit due to being banned from going every year. But it had never been his seen anyways. Having to get dressed up and listen to some shitty cover band play the same three songs over and over. Eddie preferred staying home and getting high.

Either way, he hits his hands on the steering wheel, and gets out the van, flicking the cigarette butt onto the floor. Making his way into the gym, he immediately spots Dustin, along with Mike and Lucas dancing off to the side. Red faced and laughing, he can’t help but smile, glad they’re having fun. He walks further through, trying not to be seen, but standing out completely. Eddie chooses to stand at the back of the room, alongside other rejects who hope that this will be the year they get asked to dance. He crosses one leg over the other and does the same with his arms. Constantly glancing back and forth, using the time to people watch. Couples dancing. Couples arguing. A kid most definitely spiking the punch. Y/N walking over to him.

Eddie stands up straighter, eyes wide and mouth dry. She was still coming closer, a small smile on her face. This can’t be real. Maybe she’ll take a sudden turn towards the doors, or perhaps she’s going to ask him to leave. She is part of the prom committee, and he’s not exactly welcome. Even so, she continues to walk towards him, until she’s only a few feet away.

“Surprised to see you here.”

Eddie can hardly process what she’s said. “Huh?”

“I didn’t think this was your scene. I hope you’re having a good time though.”

Why is she talking to him? why is she acting as if she knows who he is? Why does she hope he’s having a good time? Those are just a few of the several thoughts running through Eddie’s mind. His lip and hands start to shake, and he’s hyper aware that she’s waiting for him to reply.

“You look really beautiful.”

He cringes. That wasn’t what he meant to say. He truly meant it though. A stunning, purple dress hugs Y/N’s figure, the lace wrapping around her collarbone. Subtle, golden makeup shines under the light. To Eddie, she looks ethereal. He’s smitten, and he’s worried he may have just blown it. Then he hears her laugh.

“You’re too sweet,” the music changes, and ‘Like a Virgin’ begins to play. She reaches out her hand, “come on, I love this song.”

Eddie’s still in shock, as the girl takes his arm and drags him to the centre of the gym, lip syncing along to the lyrics. She takes both his hands in hers and moves them back and forth. Eddie tries to keep his focus on her, not wanting to lose a second of their time together. But he can’t help to look around, nervous and on edge. Y/N leans close so he can hear her.

“He’s not here.” Eddie looks confused. “My boyfriend? We got into a huge fight earlier and he left.”

He’s unsure how to respond. He can tell she’s trying to hide the hurt, a tight-lipped smile and eyes glossy. Her boyfriend’s a dick, sure, but Eddie knows what relationships can do to a person. Though it pains him to think of her having to go through anything like that. Instead, he changes the subject.

“So you like Madonna?”

She shrugs. “Well yeah, everyone does. But I’m more into hardcore stuff,” Eddie holds his breath. “You know, bands like Metallica and Black Sabbath.”

Of course he knew what she meant. But it was still hard to process. The head cheerleader, who wore bright colours and was the embodiment of sunshine and flowers, is a metalhead. He hardly notices the song change once more to a slow melody, as she rests her arms atop his shoulders, and his wrap instinctively around her waist.

“Actually, now that I mention it. Iron Maiden are doing a show this Friday. I’ve got two tickets and no one to go with. I was wondering if you-“

“Yes.”

Y/N is taken aback once more by Eddie’s abrupt response but smiles none the less. He shakes his head, a blush forming on his cheeks.

“I mean,” he clears his throat, “I’ll have to check my schedule because you know, I’m a busy guy,” a complete untruth, “but yeah, that’d be really cool.”

She smiles wider and looks down at Eddie’s lips. She looks into his eyes, asking for permission, to which he nods. The pair lean in, eyes closing.

“Eddie,” she whispers.

“yeah?”

“Eddie, wake up.”

He opens his eyes slightly, seeing you staring back at him.

“What?”

“Eddie, you need to wake up now.”

---

He gasps and sits up straight, finding himself in bed. He looks around and sees his uncle looking over him, dressed in work clothes. “You overslept again. Can’t keep missing school if you wanna finally graduate.” He shakes his head and walks out, leaving Eddie alone, replaying the vivid dream over and over.

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

[writing-rat]

Pride Riot

Summary: Robin and Nancy go to a broadcasted pride

There was a pride in Indiana. At first, Nancy was nervous about it as she knew her father would watch the news on it but Robin invited her. She couldn’t say no to Robin, since Robin had her puppy dog eyes on. She just couldn’t resist them at this point of their relationship.

This led to the date of their pride, and she was in her room pacing, unaware Robin walked in. “You ok sweetheart?” Robin asked her curiously, tilting her head. “Oh yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Nancy said then looked down, shaking her head. “No… no I’m not. I’m nervous, my dads gonna know,” she admitted. Robin looked at her with gentle eyes. “We don’t have to go,” she said gently but Nancy shook her head. “You want to go… it’s just… it’s just me with my inner homophobia. My dad also watches the news where it will be showcased and if he sees me…” Nancy explained, trying to not offend Robin. Robin sympathetically smiled and nodded. “Why don’t we own it to your dad? Where’d that badass Wheeler inside you?” Robin smirked out, trying to encourage Nancy.

Nancy thought about it, then the usual Nancy determination came out from her eyes. She smirked then nodded as she was grabbing her usual Emerson shirt, a pair of shorts that were originally Robin’s and one of Robin’s other flannels. Meanwhile, Robin watched her and smiled as she was admiring her girlfriend. Robin herself was wearing a pair of black ripped jeans, and a tank top that was white, which Nancy had to admit made Robin smoking hot. Once Nancy was ready, she did a little breathing exercise before she looked determined. “I’m driving?” Nancy asked smirking, joking about how it was the usual. “You know it Nance,” Robin said grinning. “Ok, come on birdie, let’s get to the car now,” Nancy answered back, then rushed downstairs with her after grabbing her car keys. She was holding her hand while doing so with a smile.

They reached the car with minimal interruption as Ted didn’t bother looking at them, instead grumbling about how the pride parades were ruining the country and that it wasn’t America anymore. He hadn’t noticed his own daughter was holding a girls hand in a definitely romantic way, while Karen did notice. She smiled at both the girls apologetically and left them to go their merry way, she had assumed where they would be after all. Once they were both in, they let out little laughs and were starting to drive. “Your dads oblivious,” Robin remarked, eyes wide with shock and humour. “Oh, I know, he doesn’t know anything. Confirmed it for my mom now,” she said laughing as she drove over to the town where the parade was being held. Meanwhile, Robin was starting to look over at Nancy’s plain white shoes. “Why are you staring at my feet weirdo?” Nancy joked laughing. “Can I have your shoes for a second?” Robin asked. Nancy raised an eyebrow but nodded as she handed over her shoes. She started to drive again, not trying to focus on Robin knowing it would cause danger if so.

Once she parked up after a 30 minute drive, she looked over and was confused what Robin was doing when she noticed Robin was drawing over her shoes with Nancy’s interests. “Without consent huh?” Nancy joked as she wasn’t mad about that pair being ruined, they were old anyway. “Sorry, I just thought they were boring unlike these red vans,” Robin enthusiastically remarked. She then showed off all her drawings for Nancy. There were guns, books and also some sayings. There was also some phrases like ‘Buckley’s Girl’,’Tiddiez’and also ‘A friend of Dorothy’. Nancy looked at them and was shocked before she grinned and put her shoes on. “I love them! Thanks babe!” Nancy thanked profusely, before kissing Robin, holding her cheeks softly. Robin equality wrapped her arms around Nancy’s neck and has her eyes closed as she was rubbing her back.

Soon they pulled apart and got out as they were both blushing, and both their lips had a bit of redness due to Robin’s lipstick. “Ok birdie, lead the way,” Nancy said and held Robin’s hand proudly as she was feeling herself starting to get dragged. Robin was pulling her quickly as she was having that raw excitement in her eyes. They were soon with the other queer people as they were chatting away, while holding hands. That’s when the parade started, and they were walking with everyone, holding hands while kissing each other affectionately. They were kissing on lips, foreheads, cheeks and hands as they were being sappy with each other. Nancy and Robin were having a good time when Robin stumbled over a brick on the ground.

“What are you planning?” Nancy asked cautiously, seeing that planning look on Robin’s face. Robin was looking over at Nancy as she shrugged innocently before she took the brick and put it in her pocket. “Just a little souvenir,” Robin shrugged again before she was starting to hold Nancy’s waist and kissed her. Nancy smiled during the kiss as she pressed up closer, and was holding Robin’s shoulders. She didn’t realise they were being recorded by the news as they were soon walking again and flipped off the camera.

It had been a few hours and they were back in Hawkins. She wasn’t surprised to see on the movie theatre sign ‘Nancy The Dyke’ with ‘Robin also a dyke’ on the other side. She rolled her eyes as she was going to her house as she wanted Robin to spend the night. “I don’t have pyjamas,” Robin said as if it wasn’t obvious enough. “As if that doesn’t make a difference… you usually sleep in boxers and your sports bras you leave here~” Nancy retorted with a smirk. Robin blushed, knowing the implication as she was nodding. Her breathing did hitch. Nancy was soon parked up at her house as she got out, rushing over to Robin’s side and opened the door for her. Robin grinned as she was blushing and held her hand as they walked inside, the brick still weighing down her jeans. In fact she had to keep pulling them up. “Nancy Marie Wheeler,” Ted’s voice boomed out. Nancy froze but she held Robin’s hand as she was walking in, locking her car up. “You are out,” Ted stated, his face showing emotions that were never seen. “Excuse me, you can’t kick out your only daughter because of who she loves,” Karen intervened. “Yeah. I’m still me, just happier because I found the love of my life,” Nancy talked back as Robin looked over shocked, but with a smile as she was nodding. “Yeah. Nance was unhappy with the boys, she found herself, she’s happier and she’s my girlfriend!” Robin started to ramble before Nancy kissed her and held her face gently. “Calm down,” Nancy mumbled then ignored her dad as she dragged Robin upstairs. The argument between Karen and Ted was heard for an hour before the familiar stomps of Ted was heard. Ted then knocked on the door, interrupting Nancy and Robin from their make out session. With marks all over Nancy’s neck and lips bruised, she opened the door. “I’m sorry…” was all Ted said before he walked away. Nancy knew it was genuine so she called out,”it’s fine!” She smiled and went over to Robin after locking the door. “Now let’s have some fun~” Nancy said sultrily before she had Robin pinned.

[buttersbookreviews]

A Review of This is How You Fall In Love by Anika Hussain:

Hey it’s me again back with more YA! I bought a load of books in one go and never really got around to reading them.

Stats:

Entertainment: 7/10

Cringe Factor: 6/10

Yikes Factor: 0/10

Let’s get right into the plot because wow this was certainly a book

Plot:

Zara is your average machine gun Kelly loving sixthformer (for any Americans that is your education from ages 16-18) who comes from a lenient Bangladeshi household. She also has a best friend, Adnan, who she sees as a brother and nothing more - despite the whole school shipping them.

Well one night her parents start fighting because her dad hid the fact that he had diabetes, and Zara wishes for a way out. However, Adnan accidentally grants that wish when he enters a secret relationship with Cami, and in order to keep it secret, pretends that it’s actually ZARA that he is going out with. Zara is completely against this, however when she sees how happy her parents are that they’re together she decided to agree to the whole scheme.

It’s working relatively well, but Cami is getting jealous, and Zara has met someone else, a boy. His name is Yara and he’s just her type (and also plays Pokémon go because the characters in this book love Pokémon go apparently). Well things start to get complicated.

Zara’s friend who is making a documentary on love insists on using Zara and Adnan as her subject, unaware the relationship isn’t real.

Review (will contain spoilers):

Now. I’m going to start with what I liked.

This book completely subverted the whole fake dating thing at the end, and I’m very glad that she didn’t get with Adnan because it just couldn’t shake the yacky when she said she was like a brother. Props to the author.

While I myself am not Bangladeshi, I thought all the cultural references were cool, and if you were Bangladeshi I’m sure you could relate heavily to the characters (or maybe you couldn’t?)

Also, Zara was a very strong character and a compelling lead. Despite being roped into possibly the strangest scheme ever, she held strong and kept me reading even when it got super awkward (I’m looking at you ‘sucking face’). I appreciate her for that, she had good vibes. I think that’s really what you want from a main character.

Now let’s move onto the bits I didn’t like so much. Some of these are quite nitpicky but relevant nevertheless

Everyone but Zara was kind of insufferable?? Cami was whiney even though it was her idea in the first place. She sets up the whole “You can’t be seen by my dad!1!!1!1!” Thing which gave me the impression he is super abusive and keeps her on a tight leash and he’s evil incarnate… but it turns out he’s just a bit protective because she got in an abusive relationship!! I get she still has trauma from the relationship but goodness me an elaborate fake dating scheme which you don’t even like is NOT THE ANSWER!!! (Maybe she was meant to be like this?? Idk? Were we supposed to like her??)

Adnan put hoes before bros and literally compromised his best friends entire life because he really liked this girl. Zara literally lost her best friends over this and he’s just like ‘tee hee that didn’t work out’. Adnan never considered how much Zara struggled to get into relationships, and literally took over and ruined her chances anyway. Boo. You suck.

Yara? Well he was just kinda there man. He tried to be the manic pixie dream boy but in reality was just a tall Pokémon-go playing weirdo. I think the whole big reveal that he is related to Cami was interesting, but overall he felt very bland as a love interest.

Overall:

I think this book would be a lot of peoples cups of tea. If you’re into the whole fake dating thing, this is the perfect book for you, as the scheme is one of the most elaborate I’ve ever seen in a book like this. I enjoyed the main character despite her weird Machine gun Kelly obsession (I mean to each their own but seriously MGK????). I’ve got to say, I had no clue who she was gonna pick until the very end, like I was genuinely hooked. And I was still surprised!

Was the dialogue a little cringe? Yes. But it’s a YA teen book, sometimes you just have to embrace it.

Thank you for reading 🩷

[what-if-nct]

Also Dirk Benedict who played Face in the A team can sing I am crying. Also Face gets shot. I'm crying again. Also he was chased by a man with a gun. He looked around and then bumped into a T R E E lmao. He literally saved himself by throwing a bible at that man and ran away. It was so random but so funny.

No I am not obsessed with the A team. Also Murdock is like the weirdo and he's like so weird. He's like me. He came back from nam as a weirdo. Thats the plot honestly. But like there was this one scene where's a gunfire, and Murdock has to sit in a ton in the middle of the fire so he can fire back from closeby. He was wearing earprotectors, but as he actually had to get up, he stayed down in the ton and covered his ears, cringing from the sounds of the bullets (and dynamite Face was throwing dynamites). Poor baby :((((( (He did manage to get up and shoot back, but as the bad guys drove away they ran over Murdocks ton my poor baby :((((((((( )

No I am NOT obsessed.

Anyways so Mark Lee is the adorablest person ever. Hendery is so weird. Yangyang. Yangyang i love that baby. Also the Kun Xiaojun Mickey tiktok I remember that move in Kick Back. I always watched Xiaojuns pretty coloured hair kickback focus cam. I love him so much. I have read a fanfiction about Kun unvirgining Xiaojun and it was so sweet. They were making sweet love.

Also animals are the best creatures ever. I love cats. Also geckos and foxes. And sheep. Sheep are so amazing and cute. Also goats. And ponies. Actually every animal except the scary ones.

I read Andy Griffiths book 'just disguisting' and it was so disguisting. Theres a list of disguisting things in it and theres 'cockroaches without head' and 'saliva' and 'when youre drinking a cup of cold water but you realise you accidently drank a cup of cold saliva'. I recommend the book. Do you know the treehouse series from Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton? It's literally the best.

-sneeze

I love how much you love the A-team. I also love how you talk about them. I can just feel how much the show makes you happy. And like jumping in a tree to get away from a bad guy already funny but defeating him by hitting him with a bible, like that is comedic genius. Awww the war ptsd got to him, poor little guy.

Hendery is a little weirdo I love him. Also I really need people to put respect on Hendery's version of the Ok lyric. It goes Jeno, Hendery, Yangyang, Mark, Taeyong. Am I biased to deeper voices? Yes but I said what I said. Honestly Hendery and Yangyang are tied for second. And I miss kick back wayv. Xiaojun's hair was so pretty. But I am in love with his hair now, I hope they keep it for their next comeback. And they posted a wayv x dream vlog or a Renjun hanging out with his cousins and Haechan tagging along vlog.

Animals are the best, I was at my mom's house yesterday and there's a cat in her apartment complex and I went to pet the kitty and she laid down and let me pet her, she was so soft and fluffy and let me rub her belly. My mom said she was a guard kitty cause she protected her from the birds. And she was the most precious guard kitty.

I looked up just disgusting cause it sounded familiar and I knew it did, I always saw it in the library at school, but because I was in elementary and this was the early 2000s, I was like ew that's a boys book I don't wanna read that, I wanna ready Madeline and Junie B Jones. And Arthur I loved Arthur. I still watch Arthur as an adult. But now as an adult and I no longer see things as boys stuff and girls stuff, it looks really cool and I wanna check it out. And I'm surprised its written by Andy Griffith, it look me so long to realize Matlock was Andy Griffith, I always knew who don knotts was no matter what age cause he always looked the same plus I use to watch threes company as a kid, Christie was my favorite.

[bureauofoverbalence]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32855515/chapters/131506480

Not to be Confused with a 'Coffee Shop AU' : New Update . rest of chapter under the cut or follow the link for the full thing.

chapter 21 Secret Drinks Menu.

Mrs Cosie is flattered; but mostly baffled. And she gives Angus many many “What on Faerun-?” looks.

Angus can only shrug and make a “These crazy customers, right?” smiles right back.

It kind of works. There is after all an awful lot of weirdos in the neighbourhood. Even more so since he started working here.

Its as if Everyone he’s ever met seems to be rocking up to Neverwinter. Especially to check out the Old Mill Tearooms.

“Heeeey Aaaangus.”

It is a good and a bad thing Mrs Cosie had asked him to sweep the front steps. Good because his colleagues don’t see him look up squatting from his dustpan. Bad because it means he looks like a real plonker, even from her height.

Mavis. Or more Mavis and a large group of giggly friends, mostly girls. And a dwarven woman supervising Angus assumes to be Hecuba and some other mothers.  They’re making a weekend of a big city trip out combining some eighteenth birthday party or another with Looking at the universities. 

Which of course had open days on at the same time. Angus himself had set up the Murder Mysteries Club and   Caleb Cleveland: Kid Cop fan club booths last night ready for it. And now it turns out the big table with RESERVED at the back of the shop for ‘an afternoon tea with all the trimmings’ for a party of twelve that Angus had got ready was also for them too.

Angus had an odd sort of not quite rivalry with his ‘other cousin’ Mavis. Not like a prank war or anything academic. But they’d been very competitive over things like how many books the other had read over summer or who’s dad did the craziest thing last. It was friendly. Sweet even. but there was always some sort of catty underlying competition of trying to get one up on each other. 

Mookie isn’t with her at least, (her brother maybe older now. But even as a tween he is still as ever a rowdy little scamp.) And Mavis is Nothing like Magnus or Taako. Mavis didn’t even draw attention after hello. 

She doesn’t have to. When back inside and sat down eating, her friends are Twisting around in their seats Looking, whispering and giggling. At Angus. Or about him.

More so as the attention causes Angus to blush and sweat and fumble and screw up orders. 

“What's that buzzing noise?” asked Pam, confused.

The buzzing noise is Angus’s pocket. Because his stone is blowing up. Mavis unfortunately seems to have given out his stone frequency. Absolutely not okay. And it’s going off like billy-o. Which is distracting, even on vibrate. Angus had only had it on him not in his locker because he’s been waiting on a call from Professor Miller about his latest mock exam scores. He has to turn it off in the end. Lucas is very unimpressed to be left to go to voicemail.

Lucretia and the Bob Squad return too. With extra Robbie. Well sort of.  thankfully not on that same day as the Mavis incident. And also, thankfully separately rather than a big group. AND a lot more meekly, too.

Team Sweet Flips are trying to go for a covert thing? Wearing everyday clothes and trying not to be noticed.  or at least pass for a totally normal Orc and Dragonborn couple. Carey even keeps her hands to herself, hoping to get on Mrs Cosie's good side.  It doesn’t work. Mrs Cosie, on recognising them instantly, tracks their every movement from her stance in the kitchen doorway; to make sure there’s no misbehaviour. Even if the wives are just on a coffee date.

Avi calls in the next day. He makes finger guns at Angus as he passes him cleaning tables. Which was cool. And makes a joke about ‘rough day at the office’ and hip flasks and spiking his drink. A joke that doesn’t sit right with the nervous but prim Dotty who gives him his drink. Which wasn’t as cool. Angus knew Avi didn’t mean it that way. But the impression that the guy in charge of firing people earthside is an alcoholic or working while drunk can’t look good for the BOB.

Robbie leans on the counter as he orders three cakes to himself, and he hasn’t brushed his teeth again. Which wasn’t a complaint on Robbie’s cleanliness, just the fact the guy ate a ton of raw garlic nowadays. Something to do with being worried about getting possessed again. (thanks Barry!) Angus tries really hard not to wrinkle his nose, even with his customer service voice. But he can’t help but cough when Robbie leaves the café for a smoke outside, sticking to high heaven of pipe weed when he comes back in. Robbie doesn’t so much eat the cakes as mostly just make a mess of crumbs. He does however make a half assed attempt to sweep up after himself. and curiously, is greeted warmly by Mrs Cosie with many tellings-off (affectionate).

When Angus mentions it to Florence between classes the next time he sees her, Flo dishes the lukewarm goss.

“Pringles? Lovely guy. We even dated for a bit.  and I still go to his sister’s candle nights parties. He and Ms Cosies are fourth cousins three times removed? He’s her favourite younger cousin though, she can never say no to him.”  Florence giggles. Then says very seriously. “I'm glad we don’t work together anymore, mind. You know he almost set the kitchen on fire? Got stoned on his break and let all the buns burn. I don’t know how he ever got into such a prestigious place as the Bureau!”

“Must be some really good reason.” Angus says. It’s true. No one had ever given him a straight answer on that. Only that Robbie was good at maths. And jokes about the Director needing a weed/ drugs guy.

“True. Can you imagine working with a guy like that though? On the Moon?” Flo laughs.

“Not really,” Angus laughs back. Which is also true, Angus can’t imagine. No word of a lie technically Robbie had been in jail the entire of Angus’s workings as a seeker. But he has heard enough stories…

Speaking of the Director and the moon base, Angus doesn’t see Lucretia. (Although they have arranged to have their own coffee and catch up for next week on the moon. it was supposed to be this week, but Lucretia’s schedule is more hectic and changeable then his own.) She must have come in on his day off as promised? and Angus has a horrible feeling both her and Lup have also been in together when he’s not there. There’s thankfully no more tales tipping five gold. 

but Mrs Cosie does get a delivery of fine spices, flours and herbs that she is adamant didn’t order, but someone else had already paid for. a gift it seems. It's almost a crate. It takes Angus, Dale Big Brenda and Gora’thien the Blood-Soaked to get it inside.

“there’s all sorts in there. All quality. Bulk bags and with a trade standard seal.” She says puzzled. Cosies’ old mill gets the odd delivery outside of its usual. sometimes even samples from other businesses or her suppliers giving her a freebie. Or a friend sending something for one of the many many halfling holidays? Candied ginger or Candied peel for example is traditionally sent out to one's far away friends and relatives when one is celebrating a birthday. (it's what keeps the shops ginger biscuits and orange cakes in such good supply!)

but never did the tea shop get sent this fancy or this much! Halfling Hospitality is very welcoming of gifts. But they are bit wary of surprises. Including surprises of massive parcels with no sender information to send a thank you note to. 

The itemised delivery form is passed around the staff as Mrs Cosie wonders if anyone knew who was behind it. Angus nearly shrieks when he sees the order. Not so much because of what is on it. But the so-called company making the delivery was from a certain Boob S. Quire.

A Boob S. Quire who signs their name in very familiar neat print with a flourish on the first letter.

Angus has to go out back, and physically bite into his hat in frustration, before returning to work like nothing had happened. Dammit Lucretia!

Brad is the only normal one of the bunch. Well as near normal as an orc in a polo shirt can be. although it does seem like he’s flirting with Quorf the Sorcerer as he takes his order. Brad orders flat white to go, pays, and comments on the weather to the person behind him in the queue. and only gives Angus a spell of encouraging bardic inspiration. Subtle. He then smiles bye and drops a few bronze coins in the tip jar before he leaves. Like a normal fucking person. Which in a way is worse! Because then Angus must put up with a lovesick Quorf the Sorcerer sighing for the rest of day. and wishing aloud repeatedly he’d given his stone number to the handsome orc dude. or gotten Angus to write it on his cup. It makes Dale very jealous all the while.

(Angus didn’t write Quorf the Sorcerer's number on the cup. but he does play matchmaker a little. He lets Brad know the Quorf called him handsome, works Wednesdays and his favourite band is the Spice Ghouls. But he doesn’t interfere further than that.)

It’s not just to the Birds, the High-Church’s or the BOB either.  Over the next few days, along with Taako (again) Angus sees every one he’s ever met. And then some he’s only heard of from Tres Horny Boys’ stories.

Hurley and Sloane, for example, walk into the shop both clad in beautiful spring blossoms. Angus didn’t think dryads could stray too far from their tree. Goldcliff was quite a ride away, wasn’t it? Or that dryads even drank tea. but never mind, they still ordered a pot of red bush tea and a jango cake each.

June and Paloma are up in the city on holiday and like Magnus become very regular visitators over the week. Although Mrs Cosie doesn’t use magic in her actual baking, she and Paloma have some great chin wags lasting many an afternoon. and probably ended up on each other's Candle nights card lists.

Klarg and his bug-bear family do indeed like the tea shop. They also arrive with Jess the Beheader in tow all in their gear, between bouts and touring. They mob Angus much like the Bob did. And pile free merch and t-shirts on him and folks working or in line. Klarg must have tried at least fifteen different teas.

Graham in his polished train uniform, complete with Juicy on the pants, is now a regular. A regular who always always orders a horrible combination of drinks. He becomes the reason for Dale throwing the bottle of strawberry syrup (pump and all) out the back door with a call of “and stay out!”. Another time Graham the Juicy train Conductor comes in, he orders what he then christens a Mocci-mocca-do-dah. Twinkle tries making themselves the same drink to try it. It smells foul. and taste wise they, Angus and Ruby spend the shift feeling rather sick from it.

Garfield the Deals Warlock enters. He sees Angus wiping tables. And leaves the tearoom with a loud, “NOPE. NO THANK YOU.”

And not five minutes after another Taako visit, Lucas fucking Miller shows up.

He doesn’t do or say anything in particular. or even acknowledge Angus, bar a hello. Or do anything to make it clear he was a headmaster or Miller of miller Tech. But he is an irritating person and thus an irritating patron just by being himself.

Ren returns. this time with Mayor Cassidy in tow. Or more, on her arm. If it’s a coffee date, then angus is happy for them. but did it have to be on one of his shifts?!

And then there’s that One guy. The vibes are bad. Even after he leaves…

Then there’s a customer that Angus is sure is a reporter asking silly questions. but Angus is quick to avoid him. Only to then sigh as another customer asks, “when will Magnus be back?” when Angus tries to take their order. Folk i.e. fans have come to the tea shop because they heard Burnsides was there last week and are expecting him to return. 

Some people, strangers, have also noticed a pattern of when Kravitz or Lup will come in too. something Angus had been dreading. Bird spotters have started popping in. or just standing outside not ordering anything. Which was weird and bad for business. Two even come in cosplay.

One creep even has an autograph book. and maybe twigging that ‘Ang from the tea shop’ is also Angus the world's greatest detective, Taako’s apprentice, the unofficial eighth or ninth bird, said creep just spends the afternoon ordering coffee and staring at Angus. Like he’s waiting for something to happen. After an hour, Mrs Cosie comes out of the kitchen and instantly notices that the nerd with the book is making Angus uncomfortable. and politely kicks the creep out the shop. But he’s still hovering around the back entrance even when the tea shop shuts for the evening.

The guy only takes the hint to leave when Flo suddenly changes into a bloody big wolf right in front of him and chases him off down the street. backed up by Big Brenda and Gora’thien the Blood-Soaked swinging their weapons and half a dozen spells of the more magically inclined workers. 

But they all think it’s one of the young girls the guy was near- stalking. Angus doesn’t say anything to let them think any different. If that creep was able to work it out, how long till more weirdos start showing up to Mrs Cosies neighbourhood?

It's all too much. He doesn’t want to quit his job but by Thursday Angus is exhausted. By Friday Angus is beginning to dread going into work. He even takes the day off from his extra credit lectures just for a nap!

Unfortunately, Saturday, the day of the Merles’ BBQ, was the very worst.

And the very very VERY worst of Taako visits to the teashop…

++

Thanks for reading see you next sunday.

[theauthorunicorn]

My Hair | Steve Harrington

Inspired by Ariana Grande's My Hair

Summary: Steve Harrington let his long-time crush best friend touch his hair.

Friday at Family Video I'm currently debating with my two best friends what movie should I watch. Steve and Robin are making some fair points about which VHS should I rent. I'm not a movie geek like this two, probably. I would instead read a book or just take a long nap over the weekend, but what's wrong with getting a different scenery.

"I mean, she's kinda looks like a rom-com girl?" Robin suggested.

I frowned, "I look like a what now?"

Robin chuckled, "Like the books, you read with smooching friends to lovers shit."

"Nah, she better watches other shit though, like pew pew." Steve's imitating gun noises and two gun fingers to us.

"No, no, no. I don't like that stuff." I sighed, "You're both terrible at your job you can't even recommend a decent movie for me. Let me just try scanning over here and see if there's the one I've been looking for."

"Oh yeah." Steve answers, "But, I'm here though, why keep looking for 'the one" I know he sucks at flirting.

"You suck, dingus." Robin hit him. "That's why you can't go ask her a date," she said in a whisper.

I laugh at the thought, Robin has been pestering me that Steve "liked me" and I don't see what she sees but I know that he looks at me as one of his best friends. If I haven't pushed him in 3rd grade we won't be here. But, this is a different story to tell next time.

I saw what I wanted, I walked over to the counter to hand him the tape.

"Guess I'll go with this." I placed The Shining's VHS to check out.

"Damn, love your choice here Y/N. I haven't seen this one yet though." Steve scanned the tape and hand it over to me. "Can I come over and watch this with you?" said with his charming puppy eyes.

"What? No. I'll invite Robin she brings snacks and you just ransacked ours." I told him jokingly.

"I'm down. Oh, yeah, kinda sucks Y/N. I have a band practice tonight." Robin shrugged, "Dingus can replace me."

"I'll bring snacks. Promise and I won't bother you. Please."

"You got me at snacks. I'll see you after your shift." I waved both of them goodbye.

"Bye!" Steve exclaimed, "See you. Drive safe, love you."

I stopped my tracks right there after I hear those last two words. But I don't want these silly thoughts to take over me instead I tried to compose myself and played with him too, "Love you." and I laughed loudly as an excuse later because Robin will definitely harass me over this.

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

Over the Family Video counter.

Robin gasped, "Did you hear it?! She just said "love you" to you dingus."

Steve stood with his little silly smile, blushing like a child.

"Just ask her to be your girlfriend or else .."

"Or else what?"

"I can pull her dude."

"Not in my watch, Robin."

Robin lifts her hand in the air, "Okay, I'm just joking around officer."

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

Steve pulled up with his promised smile and he also bought some flowers that he said “grew in their backyard.” I was at his house three days ago and I did not see any flowers growing in there. 

So, anyway.

The movie has been playing for an hour now. We roughly exchange some words. Most of them are just little squeaks from me or some "shits about to go down" from Steve.

Then something hit me, Steve was sitting on the carpet because as he said "I'm afraid there's a scene that will make me go crazy and have the chips over your sofa." which is good because if he's seated next to me I'll just be staring over him.

He mumbled something about the twin in the movie and I just replied, "Do you let all your girlfriends touch your hair?" In a low monotone voice.

"I say that those twins are scary shit, we could be those twins on Halloween, and wait what do you mean girlfriends as in plural?" he looked at me.

"You got a ton, so yeah with "s" as in plural." I replied.

"What a weird question," he mumbled, "weirdo."

"Just curious dingus."

The movie played for another fifteen minutes the Steve said with his mouth full of chips, "Yes but I mean no, there are times that they had or have to hold it accidentally like you know when -"

"Making out." I finished his sentence, "Don't just censor me those things were the same age."

He laughed, "Okay. But that's just the instance that they had an access to this." he brushed his hair. "but like if I let, let them touch my hair, no, I haven't given anyone access to it. Not yet."

Thank god because if there someone over there granted that access I might be so fucking jealous.

"You can touch it," Steve said as he continues to watch the movie.

I scoffed, "What?"

"You can just." he ran his fingers over his hair "like this and like that."

I fell silent after he gestures it. He looked at me, innocently, "Y/N, I already give you the instructions so you can't tell me that you're scared to try. Just touch it softly like this," he grabbed my wrist and put it on his hair. I am in utter shock as he did this and then I realized what he just said, "but like if I let, let them touch my hair, no, I haven't given anyone access to it. Not yet."

"So it's like it got his body, right? The same way as my skin or I don't know." He pouted. His explanation sometimes confuses me. "So can you do it now?" he slowly let go of my wrist, "Can you run your hand through my hair?" I stared at him like I don't know what to do, I'm still trying to comprehend everything.

The movie is playing in the background we didn't bother putting it on pause. His arms laid on my thighs, he's looking at me, and I'm looking at him. Not breaking our eye contact and my hand is still on his hair frozen.

He bit his lower lip, wait, Steve is that even required at this moment, he laughed again, "Don't be scared, just - run your hands through my hair because that's why it's there." I tried to run my hands slowly on his hair akin to playing on the sand at the beach.

"It's so soft." That's all that I managed to say.

"Of course it is, spend a lot of dimes and time to keep it real." He said proudly.

I nodded, still playing on his hair.

"So?"

I stopped my tracks, "I thought you don't let someone touch your hair?"

"I said, not yet at the end though. This is not usually me but I will let my personal rules let down for you."

My heart rate goes wildly and I hope he can't hear it.

"Usually or most of the time I don't want someone to touch it -" he notices that my hand stopped running to his hair, "please don't stop he cooed. I started playing it again, "But you got some privileges that others don't and it feels like it's long overdue."

"Does Robin got this privilege too?"

"Hell no, it's just you. Every day you get a pass to touch it whenever. wherever you like." he said sweetly.

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

God that's so fucking cheesy feels like an elementary. Steve thought.

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

"Boy, that's the cheesiest confession of love I've ever heard." I laughed.

Steve blushed, dead on track as well, "Well. I mean-"

"And I love and live for it."

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

a/n: wish I were y/n :( hope u enjoy it!

[todorokiaimee]

Dopamine Chapter 5

Previous Chapter

“Hey, Sero! Thanks for hosting tonight,” Kirishima said as he pulled an ice-cold beer out of the fridge. “It’s been a long time since we had a guys night.”

Sero nodded as he looked over the Uno cards in his hand. “No problem dude. I’m always happy to pull you away from your old ball and chain.”

“Well, Marina and I are still a while off from the wedding.” Kirishima chuckled as he rejoined the game, the guys all gathered around Sero’s kitchen table.

 “Fuck, don’t get him talking about Fish Sticks,” Bakugou grumbled.  “He’ll never shut up.” Kirishima’s fiancé Marina had always rubbed Bakugou the wrong way but even he couldn’t deny the fact that they were made for each other. That fact aside, he still refused to call her by name. 

 “Speaking of little ladies…” The redhead smirked, before playing his card down on the pile. “Bakugou! Would you be so kind as to give us an update on your mystery woman?”

It had been a few days since Bakugou and Jada’s date.  The blonde couldn’t deny the chemistry between them, but he was resigned to keep things casual for now. Love and hero work just didn’t mix. It’s only a distraction and gives your enemies something to use against you. Even so, he couldn’t get the dark-skinned beauty out of his mind ever since he first laid his eyes on her.

“Mystery woman?” Kaminari questioned as he played a draw 2 card. “The one he ditched us for on Mina’s birthday?”

“The one and the same,” Kirishima smirked, turning toward his friend. “Spill dude.” 

Bakugou scoffed, playing his turn. “I don’t kiss and tell boys.”

 “Boo you whore!” Kaminari laughed. 

“We need to know more about the chick that effectively pulled you out of the booty call business.” Sero pushed as he took a drink of his beer.

 I’m pretty sure I’m her booty call. But not for long. “I don’t owe you guys shit.”

“Can we get a name a least?”

“It’s Jada!” Kirishima confessed with a toothy grin.

 “Jada!” Kaminari cooed. “First name basis already?! Things are getting serious!”

Bakugou only shrugged, drinking his beer. “She’s American so... not really.”

 “Oh American!” Sero quirked a brow, laying down his card. “Taking a page out of Todoroki’s book, huh?” He smirked, sure he’d get a rise out his friend.

“I’m nothing like fucking Half n Half!” The ash-blonde barked.

“You don’t know what you’re missing with these American girls, Sero.” Kirishima smiled, laying down a wild card.  “They’re so bold. Jada certainly isn’t letting Bakugou off easy. Oh, and I pick Blue.” 

“Ooof I love it when they play hard to get,” The electric hero groaned, biting his lip. “Only makes me want them more.”

“We know.” The rest of the gang deadpanned. 

Sero shook his head as Kaminari played a reverse card. “You went after Jiro for a solid 3 years before you got wise.”

“Oh, Jiro…,” Denki sighed lovingly. “The one that got away. I really thought we had an unspoken thing.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes with a grunt. “She was fucking gay you twat!” 

“Well, I know that now! Also, can we talk about how hot she and YaoMomo are together? I mean damn.”

 “I thought we were grilling Bakugou?” Kirishima interjected, playing a draw 4 card.

“Yeah,” Sero agreed, picking up his cards before playing his turn. “You’re not off the hook yet. Tell us!” 

“Fuckin weirdos.” Bakugou hummed, leaning back in his chair. He never liked to talk about his exploits but he took pity on the guys. He was the only one of them actually dating besides Kirishima and his almost married stories were just a mushy love fest. “You know I only like the best so…” He smirked, looking around the room as his friends waited in anticipation. “She has this crazy body… like stacked. Legs for days. Piercings. Green eyes and smooth dark skin…” 

“American and Black?” Kaminiari interrupted. “I sense a pattern here.” Sero shushed him, urging Bakugou to continue.

“She’s smart too. She fixed my gauntlet with just tools in her purse,” He chuckled, remembering her tinkering on his gauntlet with ease. “She’s unpredictable. Whenever I think she’s gonna go right, she goes left. It drives me fucking crazy but there’s something about her.” He paused, stroking the stubble of his beard as he mumbled. “She’s just different.” 

The room fell silent as they looked at their explosive friend in awe until Kirishima finally said what they all were thinking. “Dude. You’re gushing. Like actually gushing about a girl.” He paused as a huge grin pulled at his lips. “You’re catching feelings!”

“The fuck I am!”

“Yes, you are! Ask me how I know.”

“I swear to God if you bring up Marina again I will--”

“You just called her Marina!” Kirishima laughed as his friend let loose a small explosion in his hardened face. 

“Don’t be shy, dude,” Sero teased.  “It’s about time actually. We were getting worried about you.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou grumbled. “Let’s get back to the game.”

“Okay, let’s hurry this up because I’m ready to move onto phase two of the night,” Kaminari said as he played another reverse card. 

“What’s phase two?” The redhead asked as he played a reverse card back to Kaminari.

“It’s a surprise!”

“I’m probably gonna hate it but fine.” Bakugou huffed.

“Uno!” The electric hero cheered as he played yet another reverse card.

“Fuck!” Bakugou yelled as he looked over to his guilty-looking redheaded friend. “Shitty hair if you play another reverse I’m going to reverse your existence.”

“I’m sorry! That’s all I can play!” He grimaced as he laid down the card.

“And a wild card for the win!” Kaminari boasted, laying down his last card. “Fork it over bitches!”

The men all groaned as they took out their wallets, each tossing 10k yen onto the table. “Why were we playing and betting on fucking Uno anyway?” Bakugou mumbled.

“Because Denki doesn’t know how to play poker.” Sero huffed.

Kirishima chuckled. “Well, it worked out fine for him I guess…”

“Okay, it’s time for phase two!” Kaminari said as he pocketed the money. “We’re going to the strip club! I’m gonna take your money and make it rain!“

__________________________________________________________________________

Filing out of the uberX, the boys made their way to a seemingly everyday luxury building, Denki talking over his shoulder, “Guys you are going to love this place. It’s called The Secret Garden. Super classy and discrete.”

Sero laughed as he pulled out his ID, walking up to the bouncer at the door. “Dude all I need to know is are the girls hot?”

“Well duh.” The electric hero chuckled. “My girl Tiffany can throw it back.”

 “I should probably call Marina and tell her the change of plans,” Kirishima mumbled apologetically as he took out his cell phone.

“Heh. Pussy.” Bakugou jeered as his friend stepped away to call his fiancé. 

It was then that Kaminari looked amongst his friends as they all took turns showing their IDs. “Everybody’s got cash money, right? The ladies do not take cards. I found that out the hard way.” With an affirmation from the rest of the crew, Kirishima returned to the group, pocketing his cell phone. 

“What did Fish Sticks say?” Bakugou asked the redhead with a smug smirk. “Do you have to go crawling back home with your dick between your legs?”

“She’s cool,” he shrugged. “She said I could browse the menu as long as I don’t order anything.” 

“No lap dances for you then.” Sero laughed.

 “That’s cool,” Denki said with a bright smile, leading everyone inside. “The main stage is where the best girls dance anyway.”

As the men made their way up to the mainstage of the club, Bakugou took a moment to gauge his surroundings. There was mellow house music pumping through the speakers has men and even a few women sat around in comfy chairs as gorgeous scantily clad women danced sensually on top of them or just talked with them seemingly enjoying their company. Strip clubs always made Bakugou vaguely uncomfortable but he couldn’t put his finger on just why. Maybe it was just the very public nature of traditionally intimate activities. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no way he was going to be seen as the prude of the group. 

The group of friends all sat down around the edge of the main stage, each pulling out a healthy wad of cash to prepare for their first dance. Denki however, took it a step further as per usual. The hero pulled out a money gun, eagerly loading it up with his Uno winnings from earlier that night. As the others rolled their eyes at their eccentric friend, a petite pink-haired woman dressed in a frilly lace baby doll set walked up to the man with a sweet smile. “Mr. Kaminari welcome back! It’s been so long since you last came to play with us.” Sakura cooed as she batted her lashes. 

“Princess! Good to see you! I’m sorry it’s been a while. Duty calls.” Denki smirked as he flexed his biceps, not so subtly. “Tiffany should be performing on the main stage tonight, right?”

“Umm, how many times have you been here?” Kirishima whispered to his electric friend.

“Sorry hun,” Sakura apologized. “She called in sick tonight. But my girl Nubia is about to go on. She always puts on an amazing show.” 

“Nubia, huh?” Denki hummed as he scratched his chin. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of watching her dance. This should be fun!”

Bakugou sighed as he stood up from his seat. “I’m gonna go get a beer.” The man made his way back to the bar, the bartender taking his order as the lights on the mainstage went out, a woman crossing the floor. He hummed as he paid for his drink taking a sip as the MC’s voice rang through the speakers.

“Welcome back to the main stage our exotic beauty and tonight your faithful assistant, Nubia!”

As the lights lifted, Bakugou watched from the bar as the dancer stood on stage, her back to the audience. Dressed in tight office attire, she tossed random papers into the air as James Brown’s “It’s a Man’s World” played throughout the club. (https://youtu.be/ilMV5tu9bcQ)

And then she turned around. 

No. Fucking. Way. The explosive hero nearly choked on his beer as he stared. He knew those dark locs and green eyes anywhere. The woman on stage was in fact, Jada Jackson. 

He continued to watch from afar as she twirled around the pole to the music, slowly peeling off articles of clothing until she was left in a silver bra and thong set. He clenched his fists as he seethed watching her long legs wave in the air, her curves on full display. This can’t be happening. Bakugou willed himself to stay calm as his friends cheered her on, cursing under his breath as she finally rid herself of her metallic bra, leaving her chest bare to the world. It was then that Jada crawled across the stage floor, right up to his friends staring in awe. 

Jada smirked as she went up to the blonde who had been very enthusiastic, shooting yen bills onto the stage with his money gun. Kaminari practically drooled as his eyes flicked from her full breasts to her green eyes and back again, “Good God, where have you been all my life?”

“Waiting for you, sweetheart,” Jada breathed as she moved her body seductively, her eyes flicking to the large wad of cash in his hand. “Is that for me?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Then slide it in, baby.” She smirked as she stretched out the band of her thong. Denki eagerly slipped the stack of bills into the band as she let out a lewd moan followed by a delighted giggle. “I love a nice thick one.” 

Denki gulped, exploring all the possibilities in his mind. “Let me take you away from all this…” 

Next, Jada turned her gaze to Sero, a nervous smile plastered across his face. “Look at that smile. Aren’t you a cutie.”

“T-thank you, ma’am.” He stuttered as he put his cash tip into her thong band as well.

“So polite. Thank you, sir.” Jada gave him a wink before crawling over to her next target, Kirishima. She giggled to herself as she knelt on her knees before him, his eyes refusing to look anywhere below her neck. “Someone looks a little shy.”

“Heh yeah… maybe a bit.” He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck timidly. 

“Relax, honey. I don’t bite.” She purred as Kirishima laughed, showing off his pointy pearly whites. “Oh. But maybe you do.” Jada breathed as she came up with an idea. “I think I’d like these chompers right… here.” Just then, the ravenette grabbed his head, pulling his face into her large breasts, giving them a shimmy for added effect. 

THE FUCK?! Bakugou couldn’t believe his eyes. He silently seethed as he chugged his beer. Here was his girl, the woman he had invested so much time and energy on, and his friends are ogling her freely. His palms popped and sparked as he crushed his beer can in his fist as Jada finished her dance, collecting her clothes and tips before disappearing into the back. The hero stomped back up to the stage with his eyes filled with rage, Denki taking notice of his friend.

“Dude! You missed the whole dance! I think I just met my future wife.”

“Shut the fuck up Kaminari.” Bakugou practically spat, as he walked up to another dancer. “Oi! The girl that was just on stage. When is she coming back out?”

The woman looked him up and down before giving the hero a playful smirk. “You want a dance, baby? I’d be happy to help you out.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He said dismissively. “When is Ja- Nubia coming back out?”

“I’ll go get her.”

The dancer turned on her heel with a sigh before walking backstage and into the dressing room. “Hey, Jada?” She looked around the small crowded area quickly finding the dark-skinned beauty amongst her fairer colleagues. 

“Yeah?” She asked as she fixed her makeup. 

“You got a request for a dance.”

“Really?” Jada mumbled, a smile pulling at her plump lips.  “Must be my lucky night. I got some great tippers stageside tonight. Was it the skinny blonde one with the black streak in his hair?”

“No it was a blonde but he had a spikey undercut… super buff too.” The dancer hummed as she played with her hair. “Nasty attitude though so I would be careful. Should I tell Tanaka to keep an eye on him?”

“NO!” Jada yelled before quickly recovering, “Um I mean, I got it. I’ll be right out, just let me change into a new set.”

After quickly changing into a new navy bra and pantie set, Jada nervously made her way back onto the club floor, praying to whoever would listen. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him. She held her breath as she looked around the room, a pair of ruby red eyes locking with hers instantly. Fuck it is him. Her heart dropped into her stomach as the ash-blonde walked up to her, practically steaming. “Hi handsome, you want a dance?”

“You’re just gonna act like everything’s fine? Really?” Bakugou fumed. “Were you ever gonna tell me?!”

“Okay! Sounds like you want a private dance! Follow me to the champagne room, sir.”

With a flip of her long dark locs, Jada led Bakugou out across the floor, his friends quickly taking notice. He ignored their cheers for what they thought would be a seductive dance at his request. Instead, their hoots and hollers only fueled his rage even more. Once inside the ultra-private champagne room, Jada was the first one to speak. “I can explain.”

“This should be rich, Dimples.”

 “This is only temporary.”

 “Temporary?” He scoffed as he crossed his muscular arms.

“Yes!” Even she knew she didn’t sound very convincing. 

Bakugou laughed, rolling his eyes. “I swear to God if you tell me you’re only doing this to pay for law school or some bullshit like that--”

“I’m doing this to pay for a number of things that I’m not at liberty to discuss with you. And frankly, I don’t owe you shit!”

 “Well, you’re so full of shit that you must have plenty to go around!”

Jada bit her lip as she let out a deep sigh. She really didn’t think she was going to have this conversation with him this soon if ever. “Look, I have to make a living, same as everybody else. When YOU go to the strip club someone has to dance for you. So obviously you were okay with that arrangement as long as your girl wasn’t on stage.”

“I didn’t want to fucking come! The point is you fucking lied to me!”

“I never lied to you.”

 “You didn’t tell me the whole truth!”

“You didn’t ask the right questions.”

 Bakugou groaned as he raked his hand through his hair, exasperated. “Fuck! I can’t believe you actually had me bragging to my boys about you. Me! Bakugou fucking Katsuki gushing over a woman.” The hero was so furious he was shaking. In fact, he was more than furious, he was embarrassed. “I sang your praises to my friends only for you to turn around and take your clothes off for them!” He laughed as he shook his head in disgust. “Oh, and you let my best friend motorboat you too. Can’t forget that.”

 The ravenette paused, taking a step back, turning her eyes away from his burning gaze. “I’m not going to apologize for doing my job. You and friends came here to be entertained and I delivered.”

 “I’m a Pro Hero for fucks sake!” Bakugou yelled, throwing his hands into the air. “I can’t date a stripper. Not knowing any extra off the street with a yen can see your goods.”

Jada paused, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t surprised by his reaction, but she didn’t expect the bite of his words to cut her so deep. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew you were a bad idea. “Well, let me rid you of that problem. You won’t be seeing me anymore.” She said coldly before holding her hand out to him. “That’s 55,000 yen for the dance.”

“What?!” He barked in confusion.

“The champagne room is super private and luxurious. No cameras so as to not hurt your precious image.” She hissed as her nose began to tingle. “It costs more and my boss is expecting a cut.” Don’t you fucking do it, Jada. You will not cry in front of him. “I know you’re good for it so let’s not drag this out.”

The blonde scoffed, digging into this pants pocket to pull out his wallet. “I can’t believe I have to pay for a fucking fight,” he mumbled, taking out a wad of cash.  “You didn’t even dance…”

“Yeah but like you said…” Jada said as she snatched the money from his hand. “Your boys enjoyed the show, didn’t they?”

To stop himself from completely losing his cool, Bakugou pushed past the woman and stomped back out onto the club floor. He sulked up to his group of friends, now watching a new dancer on stage. Kirishima was the first one to spot him, immediately noticing his abnormally hostile energy and his overly red face. 

“Whoa! Where’s the fire, bro?”

“We’re leaving!” Bakugou bellowed, walking over to the door.

“Dude, what happened?” Sero asked as they all got up from their seats before following Bakugou out of the building. “Did you not like your dance? She was hot.”

“Did you like it a little too much?” Denki chuckled as he gave the ash-blonde a slap on the back. “Cuz I mean I wouldn’t blame ya. That’s a meal I’d eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“SHUT UP!” Bakugou yelled, punching his well-meaning friend in the face, his frustrations finally getting the better of him. Stumbling backward, Kaminari held his nose in his hands as he groaned in pain.

“Katsuki! What the fuck dude?!” Kirishima shouted as he steadied the electric hero. “What’s the matter with you?”

“That was her!” Bakugou boomed as he paced the sidewalk.

“Who?”

“Jada!”

The men all stared at Bakugou blankly, not understand who he meant. 

“The stripper…” he explained through gritted teeth. “Nubia. It’s fucking Jada!”

The group of friends all looked at each other in confusion until the reality of the situation finally clicked into place, all of them shouting at once, “FUCK!”

Meanwhile, inside the club, Jada left the champagne room with her head hung low as she silently counted the wad of cash from her almost beau. Eizan was right… I was stupid for even trying. With a sigh, she sauntered backstage to the dressing room, plopping down in her makeup chair. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice her best friend pull up a seat next to her. 

“Wow, girl look at that fat wad! What did you have to do to get that?” Sakura asked cheerfully.

“Nothing…” Jada breathed, putting the cash away for safekeeping.

“Sweetheart, why do you look so upset? What happened? Did that guy do something to you?” The pink-haired woman quickly looked her friend over for any marks or bruises, her concern growing.

“No, I'm fine.” Jada insisted as she touched up her makeup, taking special care that her eyeliner and mascara were still intact. “I just got a reality check is all.” 

Chapter 6 | Masterlist

[glitchysinmybasement]

Bro my highschool has some weird shit going on

I feel the need to tell y’all stories about my high school so here

A kid in the grade above me once stopped a robbery in the KFC he worked at by yelling for the robber to fuck off. Luckily this is Australia so they were not armed with a gun.

A teacher was recently fired for bringing a student up to the front of the class and bitch slapping them for something stupid. I do know what they did but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were just doodling in their book

one of the teachers is a hardass veteran with war medals and carries a cane around to scare the students, however he’d never hurt a fly and everyone loves having him. He also says gay rights.

Another teacher once got my whole class to watch some guy vlogging a trip to Sri Lanka in the middle of cooking class, all because a girl mentioned she was from there, the teacher then made us look at deformed dogs cause I mentioned that puppy with it’s tail on it’s head

Students kept vaping in the girls toilets so now they’re all locked and if you gotta go you either go in the bushes or use the primary school toilets and look like a weirdo

there was a pipe leak in one of the primary school classrooms so for half a year there were all these 9year olds running around and trying to provoke the high schoolers. Some of them went to square up with these huge Samoan and Maori kids

a bat once died in the netting on the pavilion roof and nobody did anything until it started rotting and bits of it was falling off

kids are constantly picking fights with the pluver birds (if your Australian you know what I’m talking about)

A kid in my grade spends the mornings walking around the grounds screaming and dragg rubbish bins around while yelling ‘BRAIN DAMAGE’ before chucking the bins halfway across the school

girls were not allowed to wear pants until a few years ago because the skirts protected us from nothing and one of the coldest winters on record was about to happen

this is a catholic school with several different religions and races attending yet if students don’t do the sign of the cross at assemblies they get pulled aside and scolded

me and my friend group set fire to seaweed at lunch time and nobody has noticed

Our religion teacher once set us the very poorly thought assignment that asked ‘How do you imagine St whatshisname would react to the COVID vaccine’ She then got angry because the whole class became a debate room on why p should just take the stabby stab

I probably have more stories

[soulwounds]

「    jensen ackles   ,   forty - one   ,   cis male  +  he/him    」              did  you  know    𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘕'𝘚    real  name  is    𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑     ?!      around  the  island  they  seem  to  be  quite     loyal    ,  but  also     short tempered    ,  but  it  makes  sense  given  they  are  a     FIRE CHIEF     and  come  from     𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋    .  you  can  hear   𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙱𝙻𝙴  𝙾𝙽   by  𝙻𝙴𝙳  𝚉𝙴𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙻𝙸𝙽   blasting  from  their  house ,  but  be  careful   !   they  can  be  agitated  as  nightmares  bring  back  memories  of  JACK  DEFEATING  CHUCK .    even  so ,  it’s  impossible  to  see    𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅  𝒃𝒚  𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒔  𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔  𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏,  𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔  𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉  𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒚  𝒌𝒏𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒍𝒆𝒔,  𝒕𝒉𝒆  𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒓  𝒕𝒐  𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒆  𝒕𝒐  𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒓  𝒐𝒇  𝒂𝒏  𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆,  𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅  𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆  𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒔  𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒍  𝒕𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅  𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔  𝒂  𝒃𝒆𝒅   and  not  think  about  them .  

hey  i’m  link ,  i’m  24 ,   &   i  never  learned  how  to  fucking  read .    VERY  excited  to  be  here  again .    i  work  a  lot  but  i’ll  be  on  as  often  as  i  can .   beyond  that  i  hope  you  all  enjoy  the  mess  of  characters  i  have  /  plan  to  have  here !    such  as  dean  here !    feel  free  to  message  me  on  here  or  on  discord  at  ANY  time  i  do  not  bite   &   get  excited  very  easily !

full name :     dean  henry  winchester . alises :   the  righteous  man .   the  sword  of  michael .   squirrel . age :   forty  one . gender & pronouns :   cis male ,  he / him . sexual & romantic orientation :    bisexual / biromantic . species :   human . identifying  marks :    multiple  scars  across  his  body .   some  looking  like  they  came  from  knives ,  others  from  guns .    his  memory  on  how  he  got  them  is  fuzzy .

𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐇𝐀𝐒  𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒  𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍  𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐑  ?

there  was  still  a  fire  at  the  winchester  house  when  dean  was  four  years  old .    an  accident  this  time .    an  electrical  fire .     a  normal  tragedy .     their  mom  was  still  lost  but  dean ,  holding  onto  the  bundle  that  was  his  little  brother ,  watched  as  the  fire  fighters  pulled  his  dad  from  the  flames .     sitting  with  them ,  brother  in  his  arms ,  while  they  consoled  him   &   let  him  wear  their  helmets  would  always  be  a  far  more  comforting  memory  to  dean  than  the  ones  his  father  gave  him  in  the  years  to  come .    john  winchester  became  distant .   negligent .    borderline  abusive .    dean  did  his  best  to  take  the  bulk  of  what  their  grief  drowned  father  put  on  them ,  trying  to  shield  sam ,   &   gave  a  lot  of  his  life  to  helping  raise  sam  where  john  fell  short .

when  he  was  a  late   teen  if  he  wasn’t  at  home  or  sneaking  out  for  a  smoke   &   some  girls ,   dean  worked  at  being  a  volunteer  firefighter .    it  was  something ,  he  thought ,  slightly  productive  to  do  with  his  life  as  it  was  already  obvious  to  him  that  he  wouldn’t  be  able  to  go  to  college  with  sam  still  needing  him  around .   at  age  eighteen ,  with  his  high  school  diploma  stating  he  graduated  with  average  grades ,  dean  officially  joined  the  fire  force  at  an  entry  level   &   began  saving  up  money  for  his  own  place .    a  place  away  from  his  father  but  close  enough  that  sam  could  use  it  to  get  away  at  any  time  as  well .

when  dean  was  twenty  the  place  ended  up  getting  more  cramped  than  expected .    dean  was  notorious  with  women   &   thought  himself  as  careful  but  clearly  not  as  careful  as  he  thought .    when  he  found  out  he  was  going  to  be  a  dad  he  initially  rejected  the  idea ,  wanting  nothing  to  do  with  the  child  out  of  fear  of  turning  into  his  father .    sam  was  the  one  who  talked  him  down  from  the  anxiety .   with  his  encouragement ,  dean  slowly  worked  to  learn  how  to  be  a  parent .   preparing  a  room .    reading  parenting  books .   anything .    it  came  as  a  shock  a  month  before  the  due  date  to  when  he  found  out  the  mother  was  backing  out  of  keeping  the  child .    she  had  been  the  one  initially  for  raising  it  at  first  but  suddenly  felt  she  couldn’t  do  it .    though  he’d  be  on  his  own ,  dean  had  steeled  himself  to  becoming  a  father  too  much  to  let  the  boy  to  go  up  for  adoption .    richard  samuel  winchester  was  born  march  7th   &   dean  took  full  custody  as  his  sole  guardian .    he  kept  in  touch  with  richie’s  mother  still ,  who  went  on  to  study  psychology  outside  aurora .

being  a  single  father  was  far  from  easy  but  dean  managed ,  always  taking  help  where  he  could  from  his  brother  or  from  friends .    one  friend  even  got  closer  than  others .    when  richie  was  nearing  two  years  old ,  dean  started  seeing   ( REDACTED )   &   the  casual  feeling  of  the  affair  wasn’t  there  for  long .    things  blossomed  into  something  serious   &   when  it  was  discovered  she  was  pregnant ,  this  time  dean  was  far  more  sure  about  things  than  when  he  was  twenty .     the  wedding  was  small    &   around  nine  months  later  dean  became  a  father  of  two  as  maxine  joined  the  winchester  family .    or  max ,  as  was  preferred .

for  a  few  years  this  seemed  the  perfect  arrangement .    dean  worked  up  through  the  ranks  at  the  station ,  setting  himself  up  to  be  the  new  fire  chief  one  day ,    &   raised  his  kids  happily  with  his  wife .    but  perfect  sometimes  doesn’t  last  long .    their  relationship ,  after  all ,  had  been  a  rushed  one .    after  around  eight  years ,  things  simply  didn’t  have  the  same  spark  as  they  used  to .     the  divorce  wasn’t  nasty ,  they  knew  it  was  a  mutual  thing ,  but  it  still  stung .     he  left  the  court  as  a  single  father  again ,  now  with  joint  custody  of  his  daughter .

at  fourty  one ,  years  later ,  he’s  gotten  well  back  on  his  feet .    no  serious  relationships  seem  to  stick  but  at  work  he’s  finally  gotten  fire  chief .    he  misses  being  in  the  middle  of  the  action  sometimes ,  but  he  loves  his  job  nonetheless .     if  not  at  work  he’s  visiting  his  brother ,  the  bar ,  fixing  his  car ,  or  dedicating  time  to  his  kids .    

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐖𝐀 𝐒  𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑'𝐒  𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓  𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄  𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓  ?

a  blonde  girl  with  a  sickening  grin .     (  but  he  can  see  beyond  that .   she’s  gruesome .   horrific .   a  monster  made  only  for  the  worst  nightmares  with  two  pure  white  eyes  )    she  reaches  for  the  door    &    her  voice  is  as  sickly  sweet  as  a  child’s .     sic  ‘em ,  boy .     what’s  behind  the  door  rivals  her  for  terror .    a  black  beast  of  a  dog  .    red  eyes    &   snarling  teeth .   blood  staining  its   muzzle   &   paws .    one  breath  blows  away  the  protective  herbs .     &   then  dean  is  helpless  as  it  rips  into  him .    his  leg  first .   his  arm .   his  side .   though  the  worst  of  it  all  is  hearing  sam’s  begging  for  it  to  stop .    but  it  won’t .   it  can’t .     &   WHO’S  FAULT  IS  THAT ,  DEAN  WINCHESTER ?    dean  wakes  up  when   the  dog  rips  his  chest  to  ribbons ,  clawing  into  his  heart .    his  hand  goes  to  his  chest   ---   there’s  nothing  there .

after  fitfully  falling  back  asleep ,  his  mind  plays  the  aftermath .    it’s  dark   &   he  can  feel  pain .    pain  in  his  shoulder .   in  his  side .   in  his  head .    it’s  ripping  him ,  pulling  him .    two  hooks  in  his  torso   &   chains  around  each  wrist   &   ankle  suspend  him  from  nothing  in  an  endless  thunder  cloud .   the  only  time  he  can  see  is  when  lightening  flashes .    there’s  blood  coming  over  his  lip .    it’s  pain  like  he’s  never  felt  before .    it’s  fear  like  he’s  never  felt  before .         SOMEBODY  HELP  ME !      a  desperate  call .     SAM !      when  he  wakes  up  in  cold  sweat  this  time ,  he  doesn’t  go  back  to  sleep .

(   one  nightmare  in  two  parts .   dean  had  dreams  of  the  end  of  season  3  where  he  is  dragged  to  hell .   both  of  the  dragging   &   of  his  first  moments  in  hell  as  well .   )

𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐀𝐑𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘  𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑  𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓  𝐅𝐄𝐖  𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒  ?

he  tries  not  to  think  of  them .   tries  to  believe  they’re  just  dreams  because  the  alternative  is  so  much  worse  to  consider .    at  the  same  time ,  though ,  as  he  starts  to  see  the  things  that  go  bump  in  the  night  as  more  real ,  he  feels  the  urge  to  go  to  his  roots  if  only  to  protect  the  family  he  has  here .    a  fake  life  or  not ,  those  he  knows  in  aurora  are  still  real  enough  to  him .

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 ?

father  to  RICHIE   &   MAX  .    he  will  absolutely  go  off  on  you  if  you  are  mean  to  his  kids .    yes ,  this  includes  other  kids  who  bully  his  kids .   he  doesn’t  care  he’ll  yell  at  you  for  being  an  asshole  no  matter  your  age .   absolutely  no  one  messes  with  his  kids .

still  has  the  impala  here .    can’t  have  dean  without  his  car . 

while  he  is  the  fire  chief ,  fixing  cars  is  a  huge  hobby  of  his .    if  he  didn’t  love  his  job ,  he  would  absolutely  leave  it  to  work  as  a  mechanic  at  the  local  garage .

while  he  mostly  works  on  his  car  himself ,  he  still  brings  his  car  to  the  garage  a  few  times  a  year  for  things  that  his  own  garage  doesn’t  have  the  tools  for .   they  know  him  there  from  his  recognizable  car .

his  father  has  been  alive  for  sometime  but  he’s  recently  found  out  he  died  from  a  stroke  in  his  sleep .   dean  is  stuck  between  the  duty  of  giving  his  father  a  proper  funeral   &   his  own  bitterness  at  the  man  for  how  he  treated  him   &   sam .     this  is  only  worsened  by  the  memories  of  john  that  will  come  back .

he  is  bisexual !    because  i’ve  watched  this  show   &   have  eyes !    i  know !    is  he  repressed   a  lot   &   hasn’t  exactly  had  an  offical  coming  out ?    also  yes !    doesn’t  mean  he  HASN’T  made  out   &   gotten  with  a  guy  or  two  in  the  past .   just  means  he  never  felt  like  he  could  say  anything  about  it  all  growing  up   &   now  just  figures  it’s  too  late .

uuuuuuuuuuuuh   anyway .    i’ll  add  to  this  more  if  i  think  of  more .

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 .

SAM  WINCHESTER    -    younger  brother .    simultaneously  a  pain  in  his  ass   &   his  best  friend .     practically  raised  sam  but  is  still  his  brother  at  the  end  of  the  day .    they  annoy  each  other   &   love  each  other .    very  happy  his  kids  have  such  a  cool  uncle .

RICHIE  TOZIER  WINCHESTER    -   son .    absolutely  is  dean’s  “little  weirdo”   &   dean  will  say  that  in  the  most  affectionate  way  possible .    he’s  always  trying  encourage  rich   &   that  means  enduring  richie’s  terrible  impressions  then  pretending  they  were  incredible .   he  has ,  in  dean’s  opinion ,  improved  with  that .   his  jokes  genuinely  make  dean  laugh .   he  thinks  richie  is  hilarious .

MAXINE  “ MAX ”   MAYFIELD  WINCHESTER   -   daughter .    he  would  do  anything  for  max ,  literally  she  has  him  tied  around  her  finger .   if  the  principle  called  that  she  got  into  a  fight  he  immediately  asked  if  she  won .   but ,  once  back  home ,  he’d  try  to  be  responsible   &   tell  them  that  fights  maybe  aren’t  the  best  idea .   will  listen  to  taylor  swift  for  them .   secretly  enjoys  it .

EDDIE  KASPBRAK    -    son  figure .    absolutely  will  look  out  for  eddie  as  if  he  were  his  own  kid .    however , the  boy’s  mother  was  someone  he  got  into  shouting  matches  often  with  which  probably  didn’t  bode  well  for  the  future  of  eddie   &   richie’s  friendship .    in  dean’s  opinion ,  though ,  the  kid  needs  a  lot  more  living .   even  if  richie  &  eddie  had  a  falling  out ,  dean  would  still  be  there  for  the  kid  if  he  asked .

ASH  WILLIAMS    -    close  friend .     they  initially  met  when  dean  was  around  eighteen  in  a  bar  that  he  had  used  a  fake  ID  to  get  into .   though  they  ended  up  on  opposite  ends  of  the  bar  fight  that  broke  out ,  they  later  ended  up  buddying  up  in  jail  while  waiting  for  bail .    since  then ,  the  two  have  remained  quite  the  chaotic  duo .

SIRIUS  BLACK    -    acquaintance .    works  at  the  garage   &   dean  trusts  him  with  the  impala .    sometimes  sirius  stares  at  him  for  a  bit  too  long  but  dean  doesn’t  question  it .

JYN  ERSO   -   acquaintance .     also  works  at  the  garage !    lets  dean  borrow  tools  sometimes   &   he  appreciates  that  a  lot .

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 .

EX - WIFE    -    someone  to  be  max’s  mother .    can  be  around  39   -  43 .    marriage  was  ended  mutually   &   they’re  on  good  terms  now .     has  joint  custody .    

[laughing-with-god]

Pen Pal I

Summary- As a lonely person, the idea of exchanging letters with someone apart from society was actually quite appealing to you.  In a random act of charity and desperation, you sign up for a pen pal and get paired up with an inmate named Jungkook.  The letters were meant to help him cope with prison life, but little did anyone know it was actually driving him more mad.  

Warning- Yandere/Prisoner Jungkook x Reader.  Mature themes.  Mention of mental disorder/

Words; 5.3k

‘Solitude, isolation are painful things and beyond human endurance’- Jules Verne 

“Don’t be nervous.” 

The older man kindly smiled at you, age making a brief appearance in the form of the wrinkles that graced his eyes when lifting his lips into an expression of sympathy.  

Pure fear clawed itself within your stomach, your eyes watering on their own accord and your limbs quivered with panic, the tremors shaking through your entire being.  You ducked your head, not wanting anyone to see your moment of weakness, but also knowing that you couldn’t bear having your unfiltered emotions put under these strangers’ microscopes for them to cruelly dissect for their sick entertainment.  

Your throat felt all too dry, the esophagus was almost trying to strangle you into silence with the way it began to feel parched and scratchy without reasonable cause.  Your chapped lips pursed themselves, another form of your body attempting to quiet you without consent of the owner of said body.

You took a deep breath, although your lungs seemed to have shrivelled up and stubbornly denied any new oxygen.  A choking noise escaped you as you briskly tried to obtain ownership of your missing voice.

“I-I...don’t know where to start.”  

Your voice was bleak and raspy sounding even to you. When the vibration of your own tone pierced your ear drums, you ducked your face even further away from peering gazes. It was the sound of an utterly defeated woman, a broken shell and a foolish imp who is just now suffering her consequences as life finally chose to let the weight of her naive actions crumble her weak frame.  You didn’t deserve any sympathy. Shame dusted your face ruby red, and a hot tear trailed down your pale and fear-stricken face.

“Well, the beginning is always a good place to start any story.”  The father-like man soothed, his voice sounding like thick honey, not too deep or domineering but also thick enough to fill the room with his message.  

You shuddered one last time and gulped down any last fantasies you had of completely running away from this gladiator-like platform into the safety of your humble nest, away from anyone who wouldn’t understand you.  You couldn’t let him win.

“I-I….I have a-always been afraid of the world.”

--

You weren’t sure why you weren’t like most people.  

You didn’t know which one of you guys got it wrong, you or them.  

A case could be made that you were the mentally fucked one that desperately needed treatment to solve this ‘condition’.  After all, what kind of weirdo is so afraid of society that they instantly get panic attacks when forced outside? Surely you had a mental issue, a couple screws loose or a very fucked up past.  

But on the other hand, you were all too willing to side-eye the ‘them’ category with a few questions and judgements in hand.  

Why would anyone want to be so vulnerable in the outside world?  An outside world where people are robbed, beaten, raped and killed daily.  A world that’s so loud and cruel while being the epitome of unforgiving. A world where people only look out for themselves, ready to backstab anyone if it meant that they would get an advantage.  

What kind of sane person would choose that world over the comfort of your own home?  

Your home was your safe-place,  perfectly designed for your needs.  And you never saw any reason to leave it.  

It was heaven to you.  A cloud of maternal comfort that enveloped you like a hug just by being inside it.  Your favorite scented candles would smother your apartment in the pleasurable essence, all the books you were oh-so fond of were waiting for you to retrieve them from their loyal stations on your bookshelf, all of your cherished songs could be heard quitely playing from your record player and your go-to movies and shows were always just a click away.  You indulge yourself in this safe-haven you had created, never wanting to leave it.

Your therapist (who used to make home visits) would say that she was certain you had Agoraphobia; deathly fear of leaving one’s home.  

She went on to tell you that this phobia almost always had a triggering point, no one was just born with such mindset.  

And this is when your past came into play.  

But could anyone blame you?  

Watching one’s sister get ran over by a car when you two were supposed to meet up for lunch, was enough to traumatized anyone.   

But, you digressed.  

You didn’t like talking about your sister, or the hectic driver who couldn’t handle the complex city streets and thus ended up murdering an innocent bystander because he wasn’t paying attention.  

You’d like to think that you have always hated the outside world.  Even from the age of 7, you’d fake sickness to avoid having to go outside with the other kids to play at recess.  Your mother had always told you that you were her little homebody. While other kids wanted to go to parks or have water-gun fights, you begged your mom to just give you some hot-chocolate while you catch up on the lastest Junie B. Jones novel.  

It was your sister who was the free spirited social butterfly.  

She was only two years older, but looking at the two of you together, people always assumed that you were the wisest and mature one, incorrectly pinning you as the older.  

Your sister would make mud-pies and bike race with other kids from the neighborhood.  She would come back from an afternoon in the backyard, skin freshly sun-kissed from her adventures and shove a bug in your face, telling you to say hello to her new ‘pet’.  She would puff out her chest and order you to point out the kid who told you that you were ‘weird’ before marching up to them at the park and yelling at their face, warning them to never come close to her little sister ever again.  She would sneak into your mother’s makeup bag and half-hazardly paint your guys’ faces, telling you that she wouldn’t mind giving you tips on how to get the perfect blush.

Even as you two got older, she continued her fiery ways.  

She was the first girl to not mind boldly showing off her bra-strap during middle-school.  She was the first girl of her grade to makeout with someone, being the initiator. She was the first girl to throw a highschool party in your neighborhood when your mom left for one weekend.  

She was the one to always step out of into society and declare the world as hers.  

You admired her for that, always wondering how she found it within herself to never give a fuck what anyone thought of her.  How is it that she never crumbled even in the most unfortunate situations? Her willpower outweighed any self-doubt, meanwhile you were the direct opposite.  

You have always been a deep-thinker, drowning yourself in ‘what ifs’ and made up scenarios that would likely never happen.  You were very tender-hearted, but also very intelligent. You couldn’t solve the puzzle that was the human behavior, and this is why you sheltered yourself from the selfish and greedy enigma that was civilization, knowing it would only baffle your mind and hurt your heart.  

It wasn’t like you were always a crazy hermit, a sad recluse.  

You were just reserved and quiet, but you still managed to have a job and go out from time to time.

It wasn’t until you saw what the outside world could really do that you made the leap to go with what your gut has been telling you all along and fully disassociate with the public.

Being way out there could only get you like your sister; splattered on second avenue while cars just honk and speed by, too bothered with the afternoon rush to give the tragedy a second glance.  

Thus, you haven’t left your apartment in a grand total of six months.  

You got your groceries delivered, any new clothing or purchases were shipped directly to your door and you had someone take away any garbage for you.  

You had no reason to leave the cozy retreat of your apartment.  

Even the therapist that your mother had forced upon you had to come directly to your apartment in order to talk to you.  

Life was going perfectly fine, until one day you woke up...off.  

You laid face up on your cushiony mattress, eyes simply observing your plain white ceiling as the sound of pattering rain rang from outside.  

It was like a gaping hole was torn into your chest overnight.  

You felt yourself desperate for something...you weren’t quite sure what.  A craving that was clawing from the inside out. You scrunched up your face in confusion at the foreign and indescribable feeling.  Your attempted to find the words to decipher what your emotions were, hoping this would lead to an answer. After some investigation, you identified the feelings of emptiness, hollowness and somehow very forlorn.  

This puzzled you because when you live alone in your own home without any outside forces at play, very little could cause you discomfort.  

It wasn’t until you got up and began making a bowl of cereal while a show played in the background that a conclusion finally dawned upon your anemic and foggy brain.  

You were lonely.

Without any consent or knowledge on your part, you felt your eyes water up as they watched the pixelated screen in your living room, glassy orbs drinking in the playing scene with a look of yearning.  

It was a sitcom; two friends were simply bickering over a stupid debate, but the banter was witty and humorous, causing the outdated laugh track to ensue at the perfect times.  

You...wished you had that.  

You wished you had someone to communicate with.  

Someone to exchange thoughts, ideas or jokes with.  You weren’t the most social person, but you were still human.  And isolation only hurted you in the end.

It was tiring to have the walls as your only friends.  It was pathetic to feel the sheer excitement of reading or watching something so good and wanting to talk to someone about it, only to realize you couldn’t.  It was borderline soul crushing to conclude that you could drop dead in your own home and it would take weeks for someone to recognize your absence of life.

But….you still couldn’t bear leaving your home.  

The harshness of reality was still fresh in your mind’s eye, the corpse of your sister laying in the street while the buzz of city life continued all around you, the only witnesses being the in-sensitive assholes who held up their phones to capture the bat-shit crazy scene before bouncing.  

Part of you was very well aware of how absurd and self-pitying your lifestyle and reasoning was, but you couldn’t help but cling to the warm cocoon that was your home.  In your mind, this was a way of grieving. Many people mourn differently, and this just so happened to be your version of grasping with the death of a loved one. At least it wasn’t as self-destructing as other people’s ways, like drinking too much, spending yourself into debt or relying on drugs.  

You just wanted to be alone, safe and comfortable.

What was so wrong with that?  

However, an outlet for some form of communication was needed.  

This is when you pulled out your laptop, beyond grateful that you lived in the digital age where the internet was good ole’ reliable.  

‘Making friends Online’  you typed into the search bar and waited patiently for the results to load up.   

‘FriendMatch- an online service to help you make friends within your area!’ You cringed at this, not liking the idea of said person being very close to where you lived.  The possibility that they could push to meet you was too troublesome.

‘Why You Should Never Make Friends Online.- Scary true stories.’ Not what you were looking for.

‘Flirt.com- Make friends or possibly more ;)’ Again, not what you were looking for.  Looked like a hookup site disguised as ‘friendly meetups’ to hide the fact it was basically a one-night stand program.  

‘Omegle- Chat to strangers via webcam or chat’

With a sigh at the realization that this was probably the best you were going to get, you clicked on the omegle website.  You knew how it worked, given that in middle school many kids would use it to chat with strangers for fun at their lack-luster sleepovers.  

You waited to get set up with a random stranger, reminding yourself that this was just a temporary procedure to brush up on your rusty social skills.  

Your webcam was turned off, but the incoming stranger had his on.  

It was a middle aged man, sat in a dirty and eggshell tank top on a bed with his hand reaching down and out of camera.  You scoffed to think what this fucker was up to.

‘F or M?’ The man typed with his free hand.  You canceled out of that chat.

The next one was a girl, she was laid on her bed wearing a red lingerie set with her makeup and hair done to perfection.  

“Buy my premium snapchat.”  She purred into the camera, you scoffed and exited out of this chat as well.  

The next stranger also had their webcam off.  

You waited for them to type anything, but the chat was dead silent.  It was obvious that they were waiting for you to make the first move.  You inhaled a deep breath and prepared yourself for the first interaction you were going to have with someone who wasn’t your mom or therapist in half a year.  

‘Hi.’  You lamely began.  

You saw dots appear on the screen.  

Then disappear.  

Then the dreaded ‘the stranger has ended the chat, click here to start a new one!’

You wanted to throw your laptop against the wall.  

You almost forgot how sex-crazed and self-centered people were.  All you wanted was a nice conversation but common decency was not an etiquette for the internet.  

You felt embarrassed that you worked up all this nerve for nothing.  It wasn’t a big deal, and you knew that, but it still was a form of you putting yourself on the line to communicate with the very thing you feared- humans.  Only for your fear to be proved significant once again.

You sighed and exited out of the site, back to the search page.  

You scrolled past the results, pouting at the lack of websites that could fulfil your needs.  It wasn’t until you saw one thing that made you pause your scrolling.

‘Why Getting A Pen Pal Is The Best Thing I’ve Ever Done- Quora ’  

Hesitant but curious, you clicked on it,

‘To be honest after years of being a stay at home mom, I never got used to the emptiness of the house after my sons went to college.  I really wanted someone to talk to, just on friendly basis and a good once-a-week type of deal was good enough for me. I watched a true-crime documentary and that’s when the idea of being a pen-pal really hit me.  There are tons of lonely inmates sitting in a cell block of a prison and with no one from the outside world to talk to. I signed up for the program and it’s been a godsend. Me and my pal (George) really just connected and I try to get him through his week as he tries to help me through mine.  It’s a nice bonding experience and very eye-opening. 100% would recommend to anyone feeling a little lonely. It’s a kind thing to do and everyone could use an extra friend!”

A pen pal.

You first thought that anyone who would write letters to prison must’ve been family or friends with someone who actually was in prison.  Why else would they take time out of their day to send a letter in an age where everything is done electronically?

But the more you thought about it, the more appealing the concept became.  

An inmate was someone whom was completely removed from society, someone who most likely felt as isolated as you.  Someone who knew how harsh and cruel the real world was (hell they were evidence of such statement) and someone who you wouldn’t have to face or run into, unless you gone out of your way to see them.  

It was almost a perfect answer to your problems.  

You quickly looked up a pen-pal program to join.

--

‘Dear Mr. or Miss. Prisoner

How would you feel if I told you that someone knowingly locked themselves up in their own jail cell?  

Because I have.  

I haven’t left my apartment in six months, haven’t talked to anyone in about seven.  I never step foot outside my home, petrified by what the outside world holds for me. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of society, all I know is that when I muster the courage to step out; I break out into hives and a panic attack begins to brew.  Thus, I have locked myself up in my own home. A pathetic recluse terrified by a fear that’s completely made up in my own head. Please, tell me what you think of this.

I can imagine that an inmate forcefully locked up in a cell against their own will would read the above and scoff.  Why would someone who has freedom at their fingertips so readily deny it?

I don’t know….but there is a downfall in my strategy of locking myself away from the rest of the world; I’m so lonely.  So lonely, that I decided to sign up for a pen-pal in prison who is probably wondering why such a mentally unstable person had reached out to them.  I just need some interaction, I’m starved for comradery.

What’s your name?

What’s your favorite food?

Please….anything.  

-Regards, Y/n ‘

--

A week later, the familiar knock at your door signaled the incoming of mail.  

You made your way over to where the envelopes were hastily pushed through the slot on your door.  

Bills, coupons, flyers and…...a letter.

You suddenly got flashbacks to when you put your heart onto a college-ruled paper with sloppy handwriting and a self-pitying passage onto a faceless inmate who without a doubt had better shit to worry about.  

You honestly didn’t expect any response, knowing that it was more about you just writing down what you felt more than it was about getting a response.  You didn’t know what to expect when you would open the letter. Probably a ‘you ungrateful bitch, you have everything I want and you lock yourself up for no reason?!’

Or at least something along those lines.  

But, a buzz of excitement still ran faintly through your veins.  Someone was going to be conversing back with you.

With shaking hands, you carefully opened the envelope.  

‘Dear Y/n,

Well, I would feel rather….accepting.  

I think you must be a very wise person to keep yourself far from the wretched claws of society.  The world is fucked and you would have to be a fool not to know that. When I get out of prison, I’m going to keep myself as far away from the public as possible.  I don’t think you’re pathetic, I think you’re just someone who is too fragile for this crazy hell-hole.

I’m lonely too.  Perhaps we can help each other out in this arena.

To answer your questions;

My favorite food is lamb skewers.  

My favorite color is red.  

And my name is Jungkook.  

Please tell me more about yourself.  What triggered you to hide yourself away from the world?

Is it too much to ask for a picture?  I hope it doesn’t sound creepy but it would be very nice to put a face to my new friend.

~Love, JK’

Your heart leapt.

It was a very short letter, but the contents meant the world to you in that moment.  

He called you his ‘friend’.  

You hadn’t had one of those in years.  

He acknowledge your paranoia, giving it reason and not making you feel like a freak.  For the first time in your life, you felt understood at face value. You didn’t need to defend your lifestyle with him. Instead of trying to convince you that your fear was irrational and to try to get you to get out of your comfort zone, he embraced your reasoning and accepted it without a harsh line of questioning.  

Stunned, you took the letter over to your bed to analyze once more.  

His handwriting was very neat and careful, you wondered if that reflected back into his persona at all, or if he was just someone who naturally had very good penmanship.

He had asked for a picture, and an unfamiliar feeling of anxiety plummeted your stomach.  

What if he thought you were too ugly?  

Or what if he was just some freak who wanted some jerk-off material?

But….you couldn’t deny that you also wanted to see the face of the guy who you would exchange letters with.  You supposed it was natural to want to have a clear image of whom you were communicating with. Afterall, it was kind of intimate the things you shared.  

You smiled and got excited to write another letter.  

But first, you had to find out to make yourself presentable for a photo.  

--

Dear Jungkook,

Words cannot express how thankful I am that you answered my pathetic call for help.  Seriously, it’s been so long since I have talked to anyone so openly and some might say that a random inmate it a bad choice for such companionship but I disagree.  Call me crazy Jungkook, but I think we can understand each other very well. I nearly cried when you called me your friend. I’m afraid I’m not a very interesting person to get to know.  My favorite color is (color), my favorite food is (food), I am (age) and I’m (height) tall. Very bland, I know.

To answer your question on why I hide myself...well it’s a long story.

People tell me that I have a phobia, a disorder of the mind that I should see a shrink for.  To be honest, I think I’m the sanest person I know. I have always had a general fear of all things concerning the public.  It wasn’t until I saw my sister ran over in front of me and how the city just kept moving on as if nothing happened that I realized how little the outside setting cares for me, and how little I shall care for it.  My home is heaven on earth and I see no reason to leave it for the chaos that lies outside.

Here is that picture you asked for, I’m sorry I’m not much of a looker.  But hey, when you hole yourself up for months on end, why feel the need to be prettied up for someone?  I don’t know if this is allowed, but is there a way I can see what you look like? I think it’s only fair.  

Much love, Y/n’

--

‘Dear Y/n,

I thought you were a very smart person but obviously not.

‘Not much of a looker’ ….what a fucking joke.  

You’re by far one of the most breathtaking things I have laid eyes on in a long time (in or out of prison).  It’s a good thing you chose to stay indoors, men are pigs and they wouldn’t hesitate to eat you up the moment they got the chance.  

On a more somber note, I’m very sorry to hear about your sister, Y/n.  The world is a very sinister place and you shouldn’t have to witness such a tragedy in the midst of some city bastards who have their heads too far up their asses to notice anything else.  

Your home sounds lovely, I’m sure it’s a very homey and comfortable place.  I bet you’re the type of person to make any guest feel right at home. I also don’t see why you’d want to leave it.

I understand your pain, Y/n.  It’s almost as if we’re kindred spirits.  When my mom passed away, no one gave a shit.  They all just were just focused on throwing me in jail, labeling me a criminal without knowing my story.  

I do not think your first letter was a ‘pathetic cry for help’.  

I think we were meant to find each other.  

I think that we have a lot in common.  When two people find each other under unconventional circumstances and have such mindsets and tragedies in common...well, that’s has to mean something. Right?  I await your letters now with great anticipation. It’s the highlight of my days.

Here is a picture of me.  

Quite the ladies man, am I right? :)’

--

Dear Jungkook,

���..I guess you’re not the worst face I’ve seen.

Just kidding, you are very handsome.  Surprisingly young looking too. How old are you?  I was half expecting a 40 year old man to be on the receiving end of my letters haha.

Thank you for the compliments, although I’m afraid I’m average looking at best.  My sister was the better looking one between us two.

If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to your mother?  

I understand if you don’t wish to talk about it in greater detail.  When my sister first died I was very annoyed at the people who would pry.  Isn’t it funny how when someone dies everyone suddenly becomes interested? Humans are fucked I swear to god.  My mom had to hold me back at her funeral, some people really came in and had the audacity to make it about themselves.  

As for your stance on us being connected in some way, I have to say the evidence sure is stacked.  When I attempt to explain my fear to people, they all look at me like I’m crazy or try to convince me it’s all in my head.  I think my fear is very rational. I think you were the first person I’ve ever encountered to just accept it and even agree with it to a certain extent.  I’m very happy that you enjoy my letters. I enjoy yours too. You’re the only person I communicate with and you seem like marvelous company. How do you spend your days in prison?  Walk me through a day in our life.

Love, Y/n

P.s Jungkook, you never told me why you’re in prison’

--

My Dearest Y/n,

You can’t deny this face, Y/n.  Many women have tried and failed.  

I’m 21 years old, sorry if a middle aged man was what you wanted.  

And I doubt that your sister was better looking than you.  Darling, you’re kind of my dream girl if I’m being real with you.  Your face is so cute and round, your eyes are very wide and innocent, your nose is so tiny and cute, your hair looks very soft and forgive me but your lips are too pink and soft to be allowed.  I would hang your picture on my wall, but I don’t like thinking that m cell mate could get his rocks off on your image, so I keep it folded neatly under my pillow. I apologise if this is too forward but it’s your right to know just the effect you have on me.  I am a man in prison, afterall. I’m very lucky you stumbled upon the pen-pal program.

As for my mother, well she got very sick with terminal cancer.  She died about a year ago. Around the same time your sister died if my calculations are correct.  Odd how intertwined our tragedies are...

I don’t do much in this barren wasteland.  Get up, get breakfast, shower, outdoors time, then I usually draw or catch up on letters to you, lunch, recreational time, workout then dinner and lights out.  Very boring. How about you? Walk me through your day-to-day.

-love, Jk

P.s. You’re really adorable, you know that right?  It’s nothing too bad, don’t worry. Just robbed some places because I was desperate to get the treatment for my mom.

--

Dear JK,

My day to day is also lifeless, I’m afraid.  

I basically read books all day or watch old movies.  Throw in a couple meals, naps and showers in there and you got a day in the life of Y/n.  

Today, something scary happened though.  My mom showed up to my apartment all drunk and belligerent, hollering that I’m a fuck up that needs to live in the real world and get out.  She even said that she sometimes wished it was me instead of my sister who got ran over.

...I don’t think I’ve ever felt such shame than in the moment.  

I really wanted someone to protect me from her...from what she represented.  She was a symbol for the unstable and wild whirlwind that is what lies outside my door.  I felt violated, my cozy home no longer safe. But, I suppose she was right. I am a disappointed.  Drunk words are sober thoughts.

Jungkook, why am I like this?  

Perhaps you can show me your drawings sometime, I’m sure they’re excellent  I get the sense that you’re an artistic soul.

And I’m very angry on your behalf that the justice system failed you.  I’m sorry that you were just trying to save your mom.

With love, Y/n.

--

My Dearest Y/n,

Your mother is an idiotic drunk who wouldn’t know common sense if it slapped her in the face.  With all disrespect, what does that woman know? How dare she come to your residence and berate you for being the ‘fucked up’ one?  She’s the one who attempted to find a solution to her problems at the bottom of a bottle...how hypocritical.

What are your favorite books and movies?  

I didn’t read or watch much when I was free, I was too busy with my mom.  I still drew a lot though, even as a free man.

Here is a few pieces of my art.  I hope you don’t mind that I used you as the muse.  I think I got your face down pretty well though, didn’t I?  I practiced it so much, I may know it better than the back of my own hand.  

You know….we may want to upgrade our letters into actual phone calls.  Tell me what you think of this idea. Call it weird, but I can picture your voice so delicately in my head when I read your letters.  I bet it’s very sweet sounding, a gently sculpted face has to have an equally dulcet voice.

Love, Jk.

--

My Dearest Y/n,

I’m sure you must’ve gotten busy, why else haven’t you written in a week?  

Or maybe your doing your best to start calling instead of writing.  

Please send back a letter though, as soon as you can,  In this cell, the only thing I have to look forward to is your letters.  

Love, JK.

--

My Dearest Y/n,

Where have you gone?  You haven’t forgotten about me have you?  

I thought you said you were like me, afraid of the world and unwilling to be bare to it.  I thought we were the only ones who understood each other….

Please, stop this silence.  

Love, JK.

--

Y/n,

This isn’t funny anymore.  

I need to know that you’re okay.  

Please, even if it’s a letter cussing me out...I just need to know you’re fine.  I’m locked away and couldn’t do a wellness check if I wanted to.

What happened to my friend?

Love, JK.

--

Dear Jungkook (or should I say Easter Bunny?)

I know what you did.

I know that you lied to me.

I know you’re a murder.

Friends don’t lie to each other, Jungkook.  

I think it’s best if we find different Pen Pals.  

All my best wishes, Y/n.

--

My Dearest Y/n,

I see you found out about the nickname the hideous press gave me.

Well….I think this type of revelation is best talked over in person.  

I’ll see you soon.  

--

I honestly think this chapter is trash and I’m sorry it’s not better.  It’s such a new concept that I honestly have very little experience doing a framework like this.  I wanted it to be focused on the reader bc it’s vital character development for later chapters that will be way more intense.  I hate filler chapters but there will most likely be a 1.5 chapter to help you guys understand wtf just happened.  Please lemme know what you thought of this trash chapter.  

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 14: 1x28 The City on the Edge of Forever (Also I’m 32)

For my birthday, I watched an ep of Star Trek, because I can. It was very good and I enjoyed watching but now I’m starting to get some pretty bad evening anxiety, so!! I’m going to try to ignore that.

Here are some thoughts:

I love this wavy camera work. Space turbulence.

I recognize that this intro really doesn’t have anything to do with anything but it’s still really, like, sudden--weird time things are happening and the ship keeps shaking!

Sulu’s looking damn good today. (I say this in every ep with a closeup of Sulu.)

That was a real rookie mistake on McCoy’s part there, stabbing himself with the hypo. (Harlan Ellison voice lol.) (Still better than the original script.)

“They’ll never catch me!”

Sulu and Spock have been trading eye shadow secrets obviously. It’s a real shame that the AOS movies didn’t give people awesome makeup. I mean heck if you couldn’t force yourself to give men obvious makeup (the horror!) you could have at least done something cool with Token Girl Uhura.

Kirk sounds very formal today. Idk why, but his tone is just slightly different--calling Scotty “Engineer” and something about his log... Probably just me being weird or an effect of there being so many writers on this thing.

Damn, McCoy was almost as good as Spock, the way he knocked that guy out so efficiently.

I’m pretty sure this is Uhura’s first landing party. And she barely gets to do anything because this is the Kirk and Spock Show today.

“Unbelievable.” / “That’s funny.” Is it though?

Legit laughed out loud when Bones popped up from behind that rock, right after Uhura said he wasn’t there.

I don’t think Spock likes the Guardian. “Primitive science knowledge? Excuse you, Sir.”

The Guardian really is just like hand-wave-y sci fi lol. Uh it’s really old and really advanced so it can’t really explain itself, the point is, time travel!!!! I mean I don’t hate it but still.

Kirk is very quick to want to play with time. A little vacation away from his usual work. Getting to satisfy his curiosity and be his nerdy self and learn things. Can you even imagine TOS Kirk in AOS???

Love the dramatic moments: Kirk looking very suddenly when the Guardian says “Behold.” Jumping into the sand as he fails to catch McCoy.

Kirk’s biggest fantasy--a vacation that’s also exploration--turns into his greatest nightmare--loneliness.

“No star date” Can you even imagine Starfleet HQ getting this? “Whoops we just destroyed literally everything. Don’t worry, we’ve probably fixed it if you’re reading this.”

History nerd Kirk. Correctly identifying the Great Depression. If Spock thinks THIS is barbaric, what would he think about today?

“I’m going to be difficult to explain in any case.” Truly, only Kirk, and his love goggles, would choose the ONE alien in his crew to take with him on the first expedition into the past. This was completely foreseeable guys.

Spock’s like “That’s a cool car. Let me examine it now. In the middle of the street. While people yell at me.”

This ep starts out so dramatic and now all of a sudden it’s a comedy, right down to the music. (Again, a sign of how many writers had their hands in this.)

“I’m going to like this century. Simpler, easier to manage.” LOL.

“You’re a police officer. I recognize the traditional accoutrements.” Spock is having such a good time watching this.

Really relying on American racism to explain the alien, huh? “I know you don’t know what Asians look like so.... he’s Chinese.”

“I double dog dare you to put together a computer, Mr. Spock.” Effective.

Put on the hat, the hat!!!!

Starfleet’s greatest Captain couldn’t come up with a fast fake name for Spock.

Kirk looks good in this outfit. Actually the outfits in general are great.

Honestly what does Edith think of these weirdos?

Kirk hears trash talk: “Shut up. SHUT UP.” No talking badly about women in THIS house.

She should have been living in our time. I wonder if she always thought space was cool or if Kirk (and uh literal actual alien Spock) inspired her.

Spock’s eye roll at “I find her most uncommon.”

Kirk definitely did manual labor in high school.

Spock really is building a whole-ass computer.

“I’ve brought you vegetables? What else do you want??” Is this the first reference to him being a vegetarian?

And there was only one bed...

Edith’s reaction to Spock’s sass is hilarious. She’s really not confused by him at all.

When Spock’s straightforward, honest answers about why he stole the tools don’t work, Kirk steps in with the charm offensive.

“By his side, as if you’ve always been there and always will” is basically the toast at their wedding.

Favorite thing about Edith remains that she meets an actual alien and says eh, not so weird, and then looks at the Iowa Farm Boy and is like ????????? does not compute.

“Why don’t you want to talk about the war? Are you a war criminal?”

I feel like Kirk gets a weird kick out of saying he and Spock “served together.” And like it’s literally the truth? But he has this little smile like he’s getting away with a cool lie.

Only about 10 years until we get the cool alien book about love!

Spock bringing out the big guns with today’s requisite “Jim.”

Imagine meeting McCoy like this: weird-ass uniform, rambling and paranoid. Thinks he’s met a humanoid alien. Getting so upset about 20th century hospitals he starts crying and rolling on the ground. He’s so empathetic. I love him.

What a way to go, killing yourself accidentally with a future weapon you steal from a 23rd century time traveler you mistake for a drunk.

Bones is so good at not being seen. That’s straight up comedy how he just passes by behind Spock. There are really weird, random comedy elements in this.

“She was right but at the wrong time.”

Kirk’s in love with Edith... I mean he’s not lol but that IS what a romantic such as him would say.

“I’m a surgeon, not a psychiatrist,” says the man who testified as a psychiatrist at a court martial in a previous episode.

How convenient that U.S.S. is an abbreviation she’d recognize.

“I don’t believe in YOU.”

I know this isn’t actually true, but it feels like Spock literally just came out of the room to be jealous while Kirk and Edith kiss.

Spock’s lesson “do[ing] as your heart tells you to do” is wrong.

So McCoy just got over it, I guess. Kirk was all ready to manipulate time to stop the accident but all they needed to do was find him, catch him, and sedate him a while I guess.

“My young man.” So cute.

The reunion hug with McCoy is adorable. I watched it 4 times.

Yet another Kirk vacation fantasy foiled.

No final talk on the bridge... Very dramatic and sad.

This IS a really good episode but I just still can’t get behind calling it the BEST Star Trek episode. To me, it doesn’t feel enough like Star Trek to be the best. It’s a really great story, and it’s entertaining to watch, but it’s not representative. Too few of the crew--not even really that sci-fi-ish at the end of the day. Like I said, the Guardian is really generic and ill-explained, just a prop for the main story. And while that main story is obviously all about time travel and the effects of time travel, even THAT is incidental to the real point, which is the moral question: save one or save many? But it’s not even a conundrum, like in TWOK/TSFS,because there is no real choice. Obviously Kirk is going to let Edith die. To do otherwise wouldn’t just damn many more people in the 20th century to death, it would damn his crew and his ship and, in a way, himself. So it’s more like, well, inevitably, she will die, and he will let her, but it will be really sad. So the point is just this tragic, doomed love story. Which is not a bad story in any sense, but it’s not what one generally primarily associates with TOS.

I’m not sure this is making sense because I’m just working out my thoughts as I type.

I do think there’s some interesting stuff here: I think one could do a lot with what this ep does for Spock’s development, since we don’t hear too much from him but he’s pretty intimately involved in all this. And the lessons it’s teaching him about feelings and vulnerability are...not great.

Also Uhura saying “at least be happy” in the beginning ties in interestingly to the rest of the narrative--he could have chosen his happiness, in a way, at least fleetingly. Perhaps it would have been more interesting if Kirk had ever really considered letting Edith live--but then, would he be Kirk if he ever considered it, seriously, out loud? Am I being dense by thinking the narrative should have said this in so many words, when it’s obvious enough as is?

I’m also not totally sure about the... message. I’d prefer to say there isn’t one, honestly, because of the way the conundrum is set up: as a non-conundrum. Because, obviously America should have entered WWII; if ever there was a war that was worth fighting, this would be it. Hence there’s no need to really interrogate whether or not Edith’s death was right. There’s no way it was not right. There’s no complication there, allowing the story to focus on the tragedy of Kirk’s inevitable decision instead. It could have been a different story, about weighing the pros and cons. And then possibly also a story with a moral lesson attached to the decision Kirk makes: about the many versus the few, for example, or about war specifically, since obviously this is airing with Vietnam as a background.

It could also have been a story about fate. Obviously, McCoy can and does change time. But you have all 3 of them ending up at the same place/time, right near this Big Event. You have the almost-fall on the stairs, implying death is out for Edith. You have the total set of circumstances around her death: as it actually plays out, she’s only there BECAUSE of Kirk and Spock. Were they always there? Does she get killed in a slightly different circumstance in timelines without them? The way the story plays out, all of these details seem so beside the point--again, the story uses time travel but isn’t really ABOUT time travel; it uses sci fi tools but is not telling a sci fi story--so it’s not even really worth interrogating.

(Other than just now, when I did.)

I think it’s pretty obvious that a lot of people had their hands in this story: Kirk’s very IC romantic nature is first and foremost and I like seeing this part of him, but the Command part is kind of hidden; there are moments of tragedy, in the traditional sense of the word, but also other parts that feel like Tomorrow Is Yesterday in terms of the style of comedy; the sci fi stuff is really random.

None of this is really criticism, just thoughts. It’s definitely a really interesting episode.

Next is the FINAL EPISODE of S1, which is RIDICULOUS imo. I’m fairly sure Operation Annihilate was one of the first TOS episodes I saw. I have a real soft spot for it so I’m looking forward to watching.

[shadowofthelamp]

Needle and Thread

Oh yeah, I didn’t post this here. So, for my LGBT lit summer class one of the options for our project was a short story, so I wrote a human au Tulix thing. The teacher said she liked the ‘creative names’, pffft.)

Wordcount: 4000

Warnings: Mentions of dead animals/dissection

It started with a dead squirrel, a swiss army knife, and a bag of mints.

Tulip Bennett had only just begun going to East Side Middle School since her old foster home had belonged to the district across town. When she was adopted, she got a new house and a new dad, but also a new school, new people to deal with- and folded under that, new school weirdos.

“Look, I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet.” It had been conferred on her in harsh whispers- the harshest that could come from a fellow sixth-grader, one named Samantha in hot pink and pigtails. “Stay away from Nebula, the girl with the overalls.”

“Nebula? That’s a cool name.”

“Trust me, the girl it comes with isn’t. Her family is weird- the mom always walks around in a lab coat that’s got something red on the bottom half, and the dad killed somebody once!”

“Killed somebody?”

“That’s what Dave says!” And her tone left no argument- what Dave said must be law, to the twelve-year-olds that had been dwelling in these halls years before she had. “Just keep away if you don’t wanna get hurt.” 

Tulip had nodded and gone about the next week or so getting only glances of the girl at lunch where she usually had her thick glasses buried in a thick book. From a distance, she just kind of seemed… like a nerd. Which wasn’t intimidating. She kind of wore black a lot, sure, but that wasn’t much. Tulip didn’t see why everyone seemed so scared of her. If there was one thing she was good at, though, it was floating around to plug herself into different groups. Her pastel dress, round shape, fluffy red hair, and quiet demeanor were camouflage, allowing her to slip in and ask questions in a soft way that usually got answered.

“Why don’t people like her?” 

“She brought a bunch of live beetles into class last year. One got on my arm and she started yelling at me when I pushed it off. Like it mattered if I squashed a bug.”

“Have you seen those gloves she wears? They’ve got blood on them!”

“Look, she’s tearing something open right now!” At that, Tulip turned, squinting. Sure enough, there was a blueish huddle on the corner of the playground. Her hair was bundled up in a bun that resembled a haystack atop her head. 

She kind of looked like Alex had at the house before last, the boy who used to eat worms, and he was actually nice when she got to know him, so Tulip brushed her skirt and made a decision. 

“I’m going to talk to her.”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“Mhm, but I’m gonna say hi. If she’s mean, I’ll leave.” It seemed like a fine plan to her, even as the other girls called out in protest. 

“She’s just going to stab you!”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Tulip tuned them all out, crossing the blacktop like it was an ancient battleground from the games Eliza had played at the table in the Grant house. Tulip had liked the little blue fairy figure and took a moment to pretend now, borrowing her bravery. After all, she’d been at the school a week already and had managed only to float around on the outskirts of tightly-knit friend groups, a lone tumbleweed in this middle-school desert. If she was a floater, Nebula was in another galaxy, and that just wouldn’t do. If she was mean, then Tulip could always just leave her be. She didn’t like judging books by their covers, especially when those covers had gooey-sweet chocolatey insides the way some of her foster siblings had.

Besides, she was skinny enough to look like she’d snap like a twig, so she couldn’t be that bad compared to Tulip’s few self-defense classes at the mall. She’d already dug her small ziplock baggies of mints out by the time she reached Nebula and put on a winning smile. “Hi there.”

“Huh?” Nebula turned, eyes huge and buggy under her glasses with a color that kind of looked like the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Tulip’s dad had put up on her ceiling. The glasses themselves were… what were they called, cat eyes? They kind of gave her the look of an inquisitive alien. Now that she was up this close, Tulip could see a little piece of purple plastic settled inside her left ear. She raised an eyebrow. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Tulip. I’m new here.”

Nebula squinted. “Hi, Tulip. I like your name.”

She beamed. “Thank you! Do you like flowers?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve got a big garden back home, and I bury the bodies in it.”

Tulip’s beaming dropped a few watts, and her smile fell for a moment before she forced it wider again. “The… bodies?”

Nebula scooted over, revealing- oh, oh, that was gross. She had a knife in one plastic-gloved hand, the blade splattered with deep red, and the fingers of her other gloved hand were deep in the guts of a gnat-swarmed dead squirrel. “Like these. They’re all over once you know where to look, and it helps the soil grow stuff better.” She smiled, a surprisingly genuine one. “That’s what Papa says, and I’ve seen it works.��

“You… kill squirrels for-“

“Psh, I don’t kill them.” Nebula waved the knife. “I find them. Usually, some other animal killed ‘em.” She pointed at the squirrel’s skull with the point of the knife. “This one? Probably a cat, it has teeth marks in the crushed skull. Last week someone got a rabbit with a BB gun but just left it to die.” She clicked her tongue. “I don’t know why they let them suffer like that.”

“You like dead animals… to feed your plants?” Tulip asked, still not willing to get any closer. 

Nebula nodded. “Uh-huh. I mean, I like knowing how stuff works in general but- you ever seen the Lion King? Circle of life, big loud musical number?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s like that.” She lifted the squirrel up. “The squirrel eats the plants, then the plants eat the squirrel.”

That… made a sort of sense, if she thought about it. “Everybody seems scared of you.”

“Everybody seems like a wuss,” Nebula said with a shrug. “Who needs them?” She grinned again. “I like you, though. You haven’t run away yet.”

“Yet?”

“Most people do. I’m used to it.” 

Tulip took a deep breath and sat down next to her, holding out her bag of mints. “Well, that’s no way to go through life.”

Her smile dropped a little. “Huh?”

“Tell me about your plants.”

“You- want to listen to me?” Her voice cracked slightly, and Tulip could hear something pained behind it, a kicked kitten that had grown claws. She’d heard it before in kids who were about to age out, who were used to being pushed aside. 

“I do.”

Nebula lit up like a supernova and snatched the bag, stripping off her glove to grab a mint. 

__________

It had come easier, after that. Nebula talked fast and thought even faster, with a laugh that tickled Tulip up her spine and back down again. It didn’t sound like bells or a piano or any of the other pretty ways she’d heard laughs described, it was like a needle. Quick, sharp, and liable to puncture passerby but help repair a bad day if she only threaded it first. 

Over the days, she got to talking about her parents. They weren’t crazy, her mom was a butcher and her dad did experiments on animals for medicine. Tulip didn’t care much for that, but it was a far cry from murderers. Tulip’s dad was just an accountant.

“Hey, did I ever tell you what I did to Andrew?” She adjusted her glasses, shoving them up the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were so big behind them, like a galaxy all their own. 

“No, you haven’t.” Tulip sipped at her milk as she watched a beetle crawl up Nebula’s braid. She’d probably let it go come 3:15, but for now, Nebula just let it scurry up and burrow down in her hair like it belonged there. 

“Oh, man, I should have. So, he was making fun of my parents, right? Saying they’re ‘mad scientists’ and ‘I’m a freak’ and ‘where’s your witch hat’ and all that. Not very creative stuff. Well, I’ve got a bunch of beetle shells that I use for art at home, so I dunked one in glow-in-the-dark paint and stuffed it in his locker, with a note that said ‘with hate, from Nebula’.” She snickered. “He still thinks I’m a witch, and that was in third grade.”

“And you didn’t hurt him, right?”

Nebula waved a careless hand. “Pssh, of course not. It’s a lot more effective to creep people out over actually hurting them.”

Tulip chewed on her ham sandwich thoughtfully, hearing the lettuce crunch between her teeth. “Is there a… a reason you want to creep people out?”

“If everyone thinks I’m a freak, more time to do what I want, right?” She picked at her jello, watching it wobble and shake on the tray. “I don’t get a choice in how people see me, so I might as well give them what they want. It’s fun being the weirdo, sometimes.”

Tulip just blinked at that. “But why?”

“Why not?” Nebula countered. “You want to spend your life chasing after people who don’t really care about you?” She lifted her fork, shoving the gelatin into her mouth before shifting it over to her cheek, pointing the tines at Tulip. “I’ve seen how you float around like a ghost. You’re checked out of your own life because you’re so afraid someone won’t like you that you don’t get close enough to anyone that might.” She swallowed the dessert in her cheek, letting it settle as she stared.

“Isn’t it lonely, refusing to ever bend a little?” Tulip countered after a moment’s thought. Nebula gnawed on the inside of her mouth before sighing.

“Agree to disagree, Tutu. Agree to disagree.”

Sixth grade passed in a blur, with Nebula tugging her away during breaks to show her whatever new thing she was invested in that day. She slowly dialed back on showing off the dead animals when Tulip admitted they made her queasy and started talking about her plants, or her insects while they were still alive. She was the only person that Tulip had ever seen let a wasp crawl over the back of her hand without getting stung. 

That summer, they stomped around the bog behind the gas station, peat soaking their ankles as they captured frogs and let them go again after taking pictures. One of the girls from her scout troop invited her to a dance where they might see boys, but it just didn’t sound appealing to Tulip when she could swing Nebula around to creaky old songs from her dad’s record player, with her newly-made dresses spiraling around her knees. In July, Tulip began to sew in earnest- she’d liked piecing together odd arrangements of clothes from the thrift store before, but… 

‘Why are you wearing a Halloween costume?’

‘Spirit week with ‘ugly clothes day’ was last week, Bennett.’

It was easier to just go with simple dresses from the store. 

When Nebula had gotten a look at her closet, she’d immediately dug out the frankensteined skirts and haphazardly sewn tops and laughed. Tulip had been about to slam the door shut when she held one up.

“These are great! Why don’t you ever wear them?”

“Huh?”

She spun on her butt to hold the shirt up, owl-eyes squinting to superimpose it over Tulip’s body. “Not that I don’t like your pastels, they fit you, but these are so much more fun. Did you make them?”

“Well-”

“If they’re from some auntie that you feel like you can’t throw away, that’s fine. I just think they’re neat.”

“I thought you didn’t like girl’s clothes.”

“I don’t. That doesn’t mean I can’t tell what would look good on you.” Her cheeks darkened for a moment, and she shoved the shirt into Tulip’s hands. “Come on, I want to see you in it.”

“Neb…”

“You can’t just hide from me that you’re good at making stuff like this, I’m your best friend. It’s against the law,” Nebula declared.

“Like you care about the ‘law’,” Tulip snorted, but allowed herself to be pushed into the closet. It was easy enough to slide her shirt over her head, but… she fussed with the buttons on the old shirt. This was a bad idea. She tried to do it up, but it didn’t fit- her soft body oozed from the bottom, having gained some weight since she’d created the shirt years ago. She pulled it open again, looking around in the light from the slats. Freckles dotted her belly, and she felt almost like a puppet inhabiting her own milky skin. Her fingers fussed with the handmade shell necklace that rested just above her sternum before she pulled the shirt back off, grabbing the one she’d been wearing before and a vest she’d made with stretchier material. It was still tight, but not annoyingly so, and she knocked for Nebula to open the door.

When she did, the other girl grinned. “See? Told you.” A gloved thumb pointed lazily to the wall-mounted mirror, and Tulip twirled. It hugged her form, but in a way that felt… nice. She must have made it big- maybe for an older sister at the last house.

Nebula jokingly blew a kiss. “You’ll be the belle of the middle-school ball.”

Tulip bumped her with her hip, but her cheeks dotted pink.

After that, often when they met after school, Tulip would sew while Nebula talked, the machine doing the chattering for her on her desk, Sometimes, the needle had to be poised between her fingers when she needed a more delicate touch. Once, Nebula even asked her to show her how to sew- she was making taxidermied animals and ‘wanted to see if I could copy your steady hands’. It ended up a bit of a mess, but Nebula put it up on her bedside table anyway. She liked imperfection and just patted the little squirrel’s head with its corkscrewed eyes. “Besides, it’s more memorable this way.” She offered to make Tulip a mouse to watch her sew if she found any, and Tulip found herself agreeing.

In seventh grade, Tulip had started to drag her to her girl scout meetings, to try and make friends. Some of the other girls still shied away, but if quiet little Bennett liked her and had gone this long without getting a scalpel through her brain, maybe she wasn’t that bad. She lit up when they mentioned they were working on a gardening badge and offered them her assistance. 

They learned that it was best to talk on her right side because her hearing aid on the left didn’t always work, and her needle-sharp laugh melted with the new acquaintances like gallium- just as bright, but not as pointed. In fact, when she dug in the dirt with the other girls, overalls smeared with soil and flowers surrounding her wrists, the hard edges that made her smile a smirk began to melt too.

Eighth grade came and went, and the night before high school, they were doodling on opposite pages of Tulip’s big sketchbook, laid out on the floor. “I just feel like… everything’s changing,” Tulip muttered. 

“It doesn’t have to,” Nebula said, chewing on her pencil with brace-clad teeth. “You’ve still got me, and you’ve still got the scouts that haven’t dropped out, and I’ve got you.”

Tulip rolled over. She was wearing one of her favorite shirts-- Neb had picked out the fabric, with a pattern of stars that rounded her stomach in a way that made her feel big in a good way, like the whole universe lay underneath her skin. “How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do I have you?”

Nebula turned, bouncing her foot on the ground. “C’mon, I’m not good with the mushy stuff…”

Tulip scooted a little closer. “You’re my best friend, Neb.” She set a hand on Nebula’s cheek, rubbing a smudge of dirt with her thumb, and felt the thin cheekbones heat up underneath her. 

“You’re… you’re mine too,” Nebula muttered. “I feel… comfortable. With you. Cozy. Is that weird? You’re a very cozy person, and you managed to get me other people to talk with me, which is a feat let me tell you-”

Tulip kissed her. She could taste the root-beer flavored chapstick, and the feel slight indent of her braces, and Nebula’s gangly limbs just starting to grow into themselves folded into her lap like a fawn’s.

Nebula pulled back, adjusting her glasses that had tilted askew, but the smile on her face was wide enough to reach the stars before she leaned in again and the world melted around them, nothing but the rich scent of soil and copper that clung to Nebula’s clothes and the sweet strawberry perfume that dusted Tulip, and everything felt like tying off the final stitch on a perfect project. 

[iwritethat]

Jason Todd: German Shepherd

A/N: Dog Plan 2/?, how could I not write one for Jason???

>>>>———————————>

He had issues. You were god damn sure of it.

Obviously you loved your treasured German Shepherd to pieces and you were 99% certain that Zeus would die for you but that does not mean he wasn't subject to experimentation before you adopted him as a puppy. It was Gotham, that theory was completely liable considering his peculiar sparkling emerald irises.

The dog had a biazzarre habit of sneaking out the fire escape on some nights but always made his return a couple of hours later ready to snuggle up with you. His scent was usually that of gunpowder and cigarettes - again, in Gotham most places smelt like that but you couldn't help but wonder what your partner got up to on his escapades. Regardless, you brought a collar engraved with your address as a precaution. Although once the adventurous canine disappeared for longer than 2 days you began to worry, he was basically your comrade who seemingly understood every word you said so when the door knocked at 3am you skidded over in your hoodie with hopeful eyes.

"Uh hey, I believe this belongs to y- Sun!" The mysterious stranger didn't manage to finish before Zeus hauled his oversized paws over your shoulders nuzzling his nose against your hair on his hind legs, it was a struggle to hold the massive bundle of fluff so much so that you staggered back a little before fussing him in return. A pulsation of shock sprinted through your veins upon recognising his company and the twin guns situated on his thighs but he did just return your dog...

"Thanks for bringing this giant doofus back, I see you've already gotten attached though." You observed expectantly, Zeus standing by your side to stare at the Red Hood who shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Old habit, I've encountered him quite a bit on the streets - at first he went by 'Dog' but eventually I named him Sun Tzu. Then he suddenly shows up with a collar around his neck but I'm glad he has a good home."

"Yeah, Zeus always struck me as a weirdo who apparently sneaks out to play vigilante sidekick but I always pick the odd ones I guess. And Sun Tzu... as in the Art of War?" The man did a double take, he didn't expect you to know who that was.

"He's actually quite useful out there. And that's the one, have you read it?"

"No, but I'd like to. I guess you've got to go save the city but thank you again Red Hood." You waved him off, Zeus with a bark and you'd thought that would be the end of it.

.

Of course it wasn't, Zeus would continue to disappear no doubt on the streets with his apparent 'partner' - they were a deranged reformation of Batman and Robin much to your amusement. Only now you awoke to find an Art of War hardback on your bed rather than a toy with Zeus franticly wagging his tail. Suspiciously, eyeing your dog as you did so, you opened the book to find a scruffy note inside.

'Hopefully Sun Zeus got this to you, thought you'd like it. - Red'

Oh God...

Once you'd read the book, you sat contemplating a reply on your piece of card since you had no paper at this particular time - Zeus laid beside your leg, head resting on your thigh with a bored expression.

'Thanks, it's an incredible book. I'm not sure if I can ask how you are but has the crime world been busy? Gotten any cool cases? I suppose I shouldn't ask that either, well it was a pleasure meeting you the other night and you seem pretty badass but thanks again for taking the time to return my boy. -(Y/n)'

You visually winced as your hands began mimicking your thoughts knowing you were binning this version, with a sigh you stood to find a new piece of card as you couldn't ask a stranger that - let alone the Red Hood. What were you supposed to say anyway? You returned to your couch, clear card inches from your canines nose - you had no idea where he'd obtained the piece but didn't complain, writing a new message before slipping into the book for Zeus to return.

'Thank you for the book, stay safe out in this hellhole. - (Y/n)'

It was no more than a few days until you received a reply neatly tucked into your joyful canines collar despite the torn edges.

'I thought people threw away discarded notes, not write on the back but I'm glad you did it. It's Gotham, of course it's been busy and 'cool cases'? No (Y/n), definitely not. The pleasure was all mine by the way. - Red'

.

The exchanges continued for quite some time, your dog acting as your very own personal messenger, occasionally you'd send over books or on one instance you'd received a bouquet of flowers, of course you'd sent some back to which your correspondent found amusing. Regretfully over the passing 3 months you'd only encountered him under a few circumstances, mostly brought together by the antics of your shared companion but none the less you grew rather fond of each other.

You’d conversed as he sat on your widow ledge after you’d practically forced him to drink a coffee before disappearing back into the depths of Gotham, listening to the latest tale he threw your way. Then you have ran into him and Zeus during a midnight shopping run, the two opting to walk you home that night. It was difficult not to grow close to the man when you see him at least twice a week as well as the letters he continued to write despite already exchanged numbers.

.

Tonight you'd ventured to Big Belly burger, opting for a takeout after an exhausting day but were not expecting the cashiers joyful reaction.

"Ah hello you beautiful boy!"

You gave her a sceptical glance, pausing at the counter before noticing her kind smile was actually directed toward your dog - who shouldn't be inside but alas chose to follow you in anyway.

Zeus wagged his tail at the familiar welcoming, the woman walking around the counter to pet him much to your confusion, you were hungry after all but due to the happiness both parties displayed you saw no harm in waiting 5 minutes more.

"Where's your handsome owner? Can't be far behind no?" A pink hue settled on her cheeks, whoever this supposed master was apparently captured her romantic interest, regardless Zeus moved to sit by your side, leaning against your leg before releasing a bark.

"Dork." You tutted, tousling his ear.

The woman politely smiled, seemingly understanding the gesture but you didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

"Ah you brought his lovely partner with you today hm? Well now the flowers make sense, you are a lucky one, I didn’t think men like that existed. I'll prepare his usual and what would you like this evening?" Her cheery attitude returned as she began preparing your alleged lover's signature order much to your quiet protest. Suspicion overwhelmed you by wondering what other companions your dog had - Zeus trotted over to the exit as the bell rang signifying a person entering/leaving the diner.

"Hey Sun. You waiting for me or somethin'?" Immediately your eyes widened, the familiar nickname of your canine and the way he spoke making your heart race.

However you didn't want to make your presence known, having assumed the Red Hood wouldn't be dressed as such - not if the waitress was so flawed by him. Although credit due, he already had a stunning body in his vigilante attire...

This was the man your dog trusted every night - the one who wrote you letters and had a beautiful way with words. The one who had the waitress before you blushing like a school girl by his mere presence alone. With a careless sigh, you directed your attention to the two only stopping a few away - the scene bringing an admiring smirk to your face, the very attractive ravenette knelt before your companion both talking an fussing him like they were the best of friends, which you supposed they were after all of their adventures.

The male shot a quick glance to the person they were supposedly holding up, once recognising you he hesitated before standing and moving to speak. That is, before you cut him off.

"Don't worry babe, I got yours too. Sit and eat with me?" Your tone was casual as if you’d both done this many times before, like you hadn’t just laid eyes on him, yet it held an underlying demand as you held the paper bag out toward him.

It wasn't exactly a choice, regardless of how effortless fabricating a relationship was between the two of you. He immediately collaborated with your intentions, knowing that there must be a reason for you to act this way.

"Always doll, I've got some news for you anyway." He must've understood that you deducted who he was, and so guided you to the nearest table with Zeus following.

.

"So..." The man awkwardly started, unsure of how to go about the situation and truthfully neither did you but addressed the main question hanging in the air.

"Before you ask it was Zeus, no one calls him Sun except his partner in crime and there's also how happy he was to see you, I knew straight away."

"Hah, can't believe he betrayed me like this. But I'm kinda glad (Y/n), although was the pet name thing really necessary?" Was his reply as he began eating much like you had, the atmosphere became more casual with your shared amusement thanks to Zeus' previous antics.

"Firstly Red, you started it ages ago. Secondly, I don't know your real name and finally, the cashier thinks we're together thanks to our 'shared ownership' of Zeus. Rather disappointing actually, the lady does seem fond of you." Of course you'd defended yourself, the position you'd put yourselves in was somewhat embarrassing but all you think of at the time.

"All valid points I admit, and I've noticed but hey, if we're together I guess she can move on. And it's Jason by the way, Jason Todd."

"Jason... It's not how I expected to find out your identity but I'm not complaining, you've got good taste in fast food."

"Yeah, honestly this isn't how I'd imagined things to go either." He shook his head, shy smile on his face almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

"How so?"

"I would've preferred to tell you that I'm a vigilante at least a few dates in, not the best starting point is it?"

"No but it’s definitely interesting. How about this be our first date and we can go from there? It's a proper thank you for bringing my fluffball back home." Zeus released an obnoxious whine at the nickname from his place on the floor beside the table where he'd chose to lie down as Jason laughed but agreed none the less.

"Since you've so kindly paid for this one (Y/n), the next date is on me."

"I've just found out you're a gun wielding crimelord - what makes you think there's going to be a next one?"

Upon hearing your playful tone Zeus immediately sat up, barked as if making an argument whilst wagging his tail and looking between the two of you proudly. Jason smirked, gesturing toward Zeus as he answered.

"He does."

[imaginesmai]

Stiles Stilinski-Angst Alphabet

This was requested a long time ago by @walkxthexmoon (I accidentally erased some of the requests I had, I’m so sorry!) But here it is! It has taken a little longer becuase I have had problems with an exam and I wanted to write something good, I hope you like it!

WARNINGS

There are a lot of them, because it’s an angst alphabet, so everything is sad. Please, read carefully the tittle of each letter and avoid things that may be triggering for you.

Alcohol (do they drink too much?)

Stiles doesn’t have a big problem with alcohol. Actually, it’s strange to find him drinking just because he wants to. Before you met, he didn’t go to parties or had any alcohol; Stiles preferred to stay at him quiet watching a film.

However, we all know Stiles. And we know that he doesn’t care about how far he needs to go to get the girl. You met him in a party, you went with your friends and he was with Scott and Liam. When he saw you standing there, beautiful and stunning, he tried to seem cool and go talk to you, with a huge encouragement from Scott. In the end, he leaned on a table and it fell down, covering the floor with alcohol and food.

After the first try, his next attempt to get your attention was a little more drastic. He started going to parties where you were and drinking like most of teenagers. Only that he hadn’t been drunk before and just a few shots had his head spinning. It went on for a few months, until you two got paired up in a science project and you got to see the cute and nerd guy behind all that “alcohol”. Two weeks more passed and you finally told him that he didn’t have to drink to impress you, that you liked the real him.

Since that moment, Stiles doesn’t drink too often. Sometimes he might have a few drinks, but he doesn’t like alcohol and usually doesn’t party.

Baby (you’re pregnant and something happens)

Saying that Stiles is overprotective during your pregnancy is underestimating him; he has read every book on the library about pregnancy and knows what to do in almost every situation. However, not even that way he can prevent some werewolf attacking you in midnight.

He was outside with Scott, and there is not a day on his life where he doesn’t regret not being there to protect you. You had been staying at his house, because after your parents found out that you were pregnant they kicked you out.

Maybe the werewolf was aiming for Stiles, or he already knew you were there and you were the main target. Either way, you woke up with an enormous pain in your stomach and a pair of red eyes in front of you. Three long claws covered your big belly, that was bleeding profusely, staining the sheets sheriff Stilinski had so kindly lend you. Your horrified scream woke him up, and the man ran immediately to your room, gun high. Probably two seconds late, as the only thing he saw was the werewolf jumping out of the window.

You didn’t remember much after it, just pain and tears. As soon as you got to the hospital, the sheriff called Stiles and tried to tell him the news with calm; he was there in less than ten minutes with Scott and the whole pack behind.

Stiles remembers… pain. He remembers the white lights of the hospitals corridors, the dried tears in his father’s eyes and the calmed words that left Melissa’s mouth. He didn’t understand them in that moment, neither saw the pain in her eyes; he could only focus on her bloody clothes. The uncomfortable chair where he sat for hours was also a part of his memory, and the cups of coffee handed by Scott that kept him awake through the night. However, if there is something he remembers clearly, is your face when they told him it was safe to see you. The pain, the sadness, the horror.

He hugged you close and you cried together for your lost child.

Catcall (you’re catcalled and he’s with you)

Stiles would be… angry. Furious. Livid. He takes very seriously women’s rights and protection, and if he lived in our world, he would be probably the number one supporter of feminism. So when he hears someone whistling at you from the other side of the corridor, he has no problem to use his fists. He doesn’t care how big, tall or strong the other man is; he could be a werewolf for all he cares.

The problem is that he doesn’t know when to take a step back, and that usually leads to a broken nose. First, he walks towards them and quiet literally invades their personal space. If talking and threatening don’t make them apologise to you, most of the times, he will punch them without hesitation. The first punch is unexpected, and gives Stiles a winner sense. However, nearly always the guy is ten time bigger then him, and Scott has to finish the fight while you take care of a very injured boyfriend.

Die (their reaction when you die/your reation when they die)

I’ve just realised this is kind of, dumb? I can’t possibly tell or write how you’re going to react when the character dies, because it’s up to you probably. So I’m going to just write about your death.

If you died, Stiles would completely blame the supernatural. The world his friends live in is dangerous and he had seen how it had taken away a lot of people. It doesn’t matter if you die because of a natural cause or a supernatural being; he will blame it. He would lock himself in a room for a month probably, at first in denial and trying to wrap his head around things that still are related to you; then, he would be broken.

Stiles’ smile, laugh and enthusiasm would disappear completely, to the point that his father would force him out of his room. After understanding that you weren’t coming back, he would tear apart from the supernatural world. His friendship with Scott, Lydia and company would still be there, but it stops there. He would try to go on, study what he loves at university and rebuilding his life. Having you always in his mind.

Emotion (what do they keep to themselves)

Stress. Stiles is always under a lot of stress, between schools, werewolves and other supernatural beings, and trying to keep his anxiety under control. He doesn’t want to be seen as the weak one, seeing as in his group of friends he’s the only human.

You notice when he’s stressed when he starts to do things that are not good for his health. Not sleeping enough, forgetting about lunch or dinner, training until his body can’t take it no more and sometimes getting too deep into federals investigations. There is not a human way to stop Stiles from stressing, it seems to be his middle name. So the best thing you can do it to keep him for yourself for a few days.

You drag him to your house, where you switch off his phone, computer and any other mean of communication. Complains and cries only appear on the first hours, because as soon as you put on TV his favourite film and open your arms, he’s cuddling you like a little child.

Frustrated (how do they act in a fight?) & Joyless (something that makes them sad)

Talking might seem like his favourite thing to do, as you sometimes grow tired of his incessant flow of words. If you two fight, which honestly never happens because he’s ready to give it all away for you, he shuts up.

Stiles thinks that your fights is positive criticism; he will sit down for a while, think about why it started and try to find a solution, from a change in his behaviour to your relationship. He doesn’t like shouting, not to you. Silly fights over films often happen between you two, but he doesn’t take them seriously, even if he shouts at you for at least an hour.

A real fight between you two means that Stiles would lock himself in a room for at least two hours, and you won’t hear a pencil drop in that time. The firsts fights scared you, because you thought something might had happened or that even he had jumped out of the window to avoid talking to you. After you opened the door, you found him with tears in his eyes, crying because he thought he was going to lose you. You had to listen to Stiles apologizing for at least an hour, making promises about how he was going to give you the best and telling you how much he loved you.

Grounded (your daughter/son tells him they hate him after a fight)

“God, I wish my dad wasn’t such a weirdo!”

The world seem to stop around Stiles as his daughter tells him that words. It was an accident, at least she finding out about Stiles’ making a whole FBI profile of her new boyfriend. He hadn’t met the guy yet, so he decided to take the matter into his own hands and to start looking up in his social media, friends… even if you told him not to, because it was invading your daughter’s privacy and you knew it would end up badly. How right you were.

You had been out your house when it happened, and not a million bad experience had prepared you for what you found when you came back. Stiles was sitting on the couch, facing away from you and not answering your calls. You called him a few more times, not receiving an answer and getting worried. Maybe he had had an anxiety attack, maybe something had happened. The bad possibilities ran wild through your mind when you saw tears running down his cheeks.

Kneeling in front of him, you tried to clean his face with your thumbs, but only got back more sobs. Within a few seconds, he was sobbing in your shoulder, both of you in the floor and his face hidden in your neck. You ran your hand up and down his back, caressing his head and listening to his sad and hurt words. It took a while to understand what was happening; once you did, you could almost feel his pain and sorrow.

It took him nearly an hour to calm down. When he did, you made him go to your daughter’s room and talk to her. You opened her door to find her crying too, with her head between her hands. Before you could left the room, father and daughter had squeezed out each other’s life in a big where you stood in the middle. Both of them tried to apologise at the same time, not making any sense but understanding each other.

Everything was solved with a trip to the supermarket and a marathon of star wars in your couch.

Humiliation (someone says something humiliating about you in front of them) & Unfair (someone’s unfair with you)

“I don’t think you will ever achieve anything in life, Y/N. You really should drop out of high school and start looking for… more available options for you.”

You focused on the failed exam on your desk, feeling the pitiful stares of your classmates and the hard words of your teacher. It was the third exam you had failed in that subject, but you couldn’t do anything about it; you were pregnant in highschool, your parents had kicked you out of your house and your friends were in the middle of a war with some strange “doctors”. You couldn’t focus on your studies.

No one apart from your friends and boyfriend knew the whole story; just that you were pregnant because you didn’t take protection and that you were living with your boyfriend then. Your teacher, who had always been extra hard on you because some unknown reason, loved to point out how you weren’t going to be anything in the future. But that time he had stepped over the line.

Tears started to run down your cheeks, unable to keep them at bay any longer. Stiles, who was behind you listening to all those words, didn’t notice them; he would have said something by then if you would have let him, but you didn’t want him to be expelled. However, your teacher made sure to point out your embarrassment out loud, and that’s when Stiles lost it.

It was like an hurricane; shouts and screams left his mouth with an incredible speed, all of them full of sarcasm and hurtfulness. Everyone turned to look at Stiles, who had got up from his chair and looked like he could burst into flames in any second. It took the coach and two other students to made him shup up.

He was dragged to the director's office and, after a long chat, he was released with just a warning. You waited for him in the parking lot, next to his jeep and with your hands covering your little bump. As soon as he got out, expecting a huge scolding, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him like you had never kissed before. If it was because of the hormones or the gratitude of not being expelled, you didn’t know. But you were proud as fuck of your boyfriend.

Injury (how do they react when you’re hurt?)

I could end this post with just a word; freak. Stiles Stilinski could be described as a ball of caffeine, sarcasm and anxiety. If we mix those three things and that he faints with the sight of blood, when talking about your injury, a picture of himself should appear on the dictionary next to the word freak.

It doesn’t matter if it’s big or small, bloody or just a scratch, somewhere visible or inside your clothes. He almost fainted when he saw by accident your stained panties because of your periods. Stiles will try to be helpful in any situation, but with his constant and exaggerated worry is better if he steps aside

He won’t stop worry after you spent at least a week in bed after you’re injured. The only good thing about it is that you will have a personal servant for that time.

Joyless (something that makes them sad)

Look up to frustrated.

Kidnapped (you’re kidnapped)

As a human with a lot of supernatural friends, he’s always left out of your rescue. You have been kidnapped a few times, mostly because of a problem that could have been solved if Stiles wasn’t that impulsive.

When he discovers that you’re missing, he will call everyone he knows; Scott, Derek, his father, Peter, Lydia, Allison’s father… and will push them until they are looking for you. He tries to tag along, but most of the times it’s too dangerous. His bat is not enough.

Still, he’ll wait for you in his house, pacing up and down or tapping his foot on the ground until the doorbell rings. The aftercare is his part; he’ll wrap you around a blanket and not let you go for days, showing how scared he had been.

Loss (their greatest loss)

His greatest loss is, probably, Scott’s humanity. Stiles loves the supernatural world, and without it he might have not been the same.

But sometimes, late at night when he can’t sleep, he wonders if things would have been better. If his father would have been safer or his friends would be all alive. If you would have a better life out of his shit. Those thoughts usually ends up with an anxiety attack, as the feeling of not being able of doing anything crushes his chest.

Mistakes (make up after a fight)

He’s mostly scared about the fights, because he’s really afraid to lose you. If you have a fight of more than one day, he feels like his world his crumbling down. Besides Scott, you’re the only person who is a daily reminder that he’s something more than a buzzing body full of caffeine and anxiety; not talking to you because of a fight makes his day dark.

Material gifts are not his things. There had been two or three times where he had bought you a bouquet of flowers or something that had reminded him of you. But he knows that’s not the right way of fixing your fights, so he’ll use a more personal way.

From a home-made dinner to a movie marathon with your favourite films, he has tried everything. He’ll coax one of his friends to talk to you and make you come to the park, his house or wherever he has prepared the surprise. Once, he tried to make a poem about how much he loves you. You tried to keep your laughs at bay, yet when he tried to compare you to scoring in lacrosse, you couldn’t. The intention is what matters, isn’t it?

Nothing (you lose everything, your house, your car… how do they react?)

Being positive about the situation is the antonym of Stiles. Your parents had kicked you out of your house when they found out you were pregnant, afraid of the talks around the town and about what their friends might say. You appear on Stiles door with two suitcases with your personal things, hoping that he would take you in.

He doesn’t see the bright side, all he can do is worry about what you have lost and might need. You have to make him see that it’s not the end of world, you can make it out with work and the help of his father.

The baby is something that trouble him for days, because not having the economic support from your parents means that they might not have the best life. However, he doesn’t doubt about working in whatever is necessary to recover the loss.

Offended (you offend them without knowing it)

It’s hard to know when Stiles is offended, since he won’t say it to you or talk about what he doesn’t like. However, if there’s a thing that let you know that something you have said has offend him is his sarcasm. More than usual. He start laughing at what you have said and mocking it, trying to make you see that he doesn’t care about it.

Most of the times it has to be with his ways of getting information and his strange way of connecting everything with cords. He spends a lot of time on it, and tries to do it as perfect as he can. So, when you go to his house and laugh about it, he feels his heart drop to his feet.

He starts saying that it’s not a big deal, that he has done it in a few minutes and that it’s not even finished or complete. Excuses fly out of his mouth and he even tries to push you out of his room; still, when you see that his eyes are not bright and that he won’t meet yours, you know something is wrong.

Your apologies catch him by surprise, and you’re quick to try and fix your mistake. Looking for anything logical in that mess is hard, yet you find something that you like or understand and let him know a few times. And you offer him to help him finish it, or to sit on his bed while he explains it to you; making Stiles the happiest man alive.

Pressure (they reach their breaking point)

Stiles IS a breaking point. There isn’t a day where he doesn’t reach it. If it’s not because of the highschool stress, it would be for any supernatural deaths; or because of his friends’ problems. Anyway, almost all nights before he met you he had anxiety attacks as he tried to keep everything around under control, failing.

When he met you, the stress multiplicated by ten. He had to focus of not making a fool of himself in front of you, even if he fails at that too. As I’ve said before, he starts going to parties to catch your attention; so he has less time for his stuffs and ends up almost fainting.

When the relationship starts going somewhere, you discover about his anxiety; and just know when he’s having a bad attack. Stiles doesn’t like to talk about it, and if you’re with him he’ll try to leave to the bathroom. You hear his ragged breaths and quiet sobs through the door, and after a few sweet words, he opens the door and you kneel with him.

He doesn’t like to talk, your voice is enough for him. You can talk about your day, about a film or just be quiet while he hugs you.

Quake (past experience that hurt them bad)

His mother’s death. It didn’t hit him when she died, it was more like a gradually effect. For years, the fact that his mother could have died because of him had eaten up part of his conscious, and now it’s always in the back of his mind.

Which makes him be scared. He doesn’t let it show, but he’s scared that you will leave him because he’s not good enough, that his friends will die because he hasn’t been fast enough, or that his father would get angry at him for not following his expectations. Around him, there is always this pressure of doing what is right and what it’s better for everyone that it’s often that he forgets about himself. He can spend days without taking care of his own health, but the reason behind that is he doesn’t want to fail.

His mother’s feels like a failure for him, a failure that had caused someone’s death. He thinks that failures come with something terrible, so he tries to avoid them as hard as he can.

Rob (your house gets robbed/you get mugged)

Kind of a short imagine, I hope you like it!

Stiles was used to you calling before you appeared in his house. In all of your years of relationship, you had always made sure that you were welcomed there before you went. Not once he had told you that you couldn’t come, but still you called always. Out of respect or routine, Stiles didn’t know.

So he was surprised when you knocked on his door at eleven thirty. He was having dinner with his father in silence, the TV in the background and the poor cooked vegetables on their plates. The doorbell rang a first time, and he looked to his father, wondering who could be at their door that late. According to what you had told him, you were in the library with Lydia and Scott was out of town. They didn’t know that much people.

He got up and walked towards the door, while the doorbell rang a second time. He shouted that he was going and walked a little faster. When he opened the door, Stiles was received with your body crushing into him as he fell onto his butt. A surprised gasp left his mouth, his brain trying to process what had happened.

“Y-Y/N? What-Are you okay?” he asked, once he noticed your trembling body and your heart-breaking sobs.

You tried to say something between the tears, but only managed a messy blur of incoherent words and becoming short of breath. Your hands closed into fists on Stiles’ pyjama shirt just when his father came into the view with a worried expression.

“Y/N? Stiles, what are you doing in the floor?” he kneeled down beside you, caressing your hair softly. “What’s wrong, kid?”

“She just ran in” Stiles whispered, wrapping his arms around you. “I can’t understand anything she’s saying.”

“Let’s take her to the living room.”

With the help of his father, Stiles could unwrap you from his body between sweet words of encouragement and sit you on his couch. Once you were there, under the light of the lamp and not curled into a ball, he could see you clearly.

Your hair was dishevelled, pointing to every direction. Your cheek was red and you had a little cut on your eyebrow. The brown jacket you loved so much was missing a sleeve, letting Stiles see a deep cut and some bruises forming.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times as you kept crying, hiding your face between your hands. The Sherriff was the first to move, running to the bathroom and grabbing the first aid kit.

“Sit with her and keep her still, this is going to hurt a little” he explained, opening the bottle. “Can you hear me Y/N?”

Both of them sighed when you nodded softly, relived that you weren’t in any kind of shock. Stiles sat on the couch with you and took you between his arms as his father cleaned your wounds.

When your breathing came back to normal, you started talking about what had happened. You had went to the library with Lydia, you had studied and everything had been just good. Stiles was almost tempted to scold you when you said that you had left Lydia in her house (which was pretty close to Stiles’ one, thank God) and that you decided to walk alone. That’s when a man came out of nowhere and tried to take your bag; after a few seconds of struggling, he took it and you fell to the floor.

Father and son’s faces frowned into anger as you told them that the guy didn’t find any money on your bag and kicked you around for a little bit. By the end of the story, you were crying again and Stiles arms were shaking around you.

“Maybe he’s still around somewhere” Stiles said, looking to his father. “I can call Scott, that asshole’s going to-“

“Stiles, you’re not going to drag another teen into this”

“Then let me just grab my bat, dad. We can’t let him walk away! Look how he has hurt her!”

“Tomorrow we’ll fill a report, when you’re feeling better, okay?” the Sheriff smiled at you, ignoring his son’s protests and placing a hand on your knee. “Do you want me to call your parents? Or I can take you to your house.”

“I’m-“

“Her parents are away for the weekend” Stiles interrupted you. “Y/N is staying here.”

“I don’t want to-“

“No, I’m not buying that” Stiles shook his head. “She’s staying here. In my room, dad.”

“Why don’t you let her decide?” the Sheriff rolled his eyes at Stiles, and then looked back at you. “Do you want to stay here? You can stay the night or we can call your parents and wait until they arrive.”

Your parents weren’t the kindest people in the world. Actually, they didn’t have a good relationship with half of the town, including Stiles and his father. Your relationship with him was a taboo topic in your house; since they didn’t get you to break up with him, they didn’t talk about it. Calling them meant having them scold you for at least two days in a row.

“I want to stay” you whispered, your voice rough from crying. “If-If that’s okay with you.”

“More than okay, kid” he got up smiling. “This house is your home whenever you want, Y/N.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Beside, I like you more than I like Stiles” he laughed.

“Dad!”

Surgery (their reaction when you’re in emergency surgery)

At first, he tries to stay calm for you and for the medical stuff around. You had woken up that morning with a stomach ache, that with the passing hours had became a full pain that had rushed you to the hospital. His usual shaking and annoying questions don’t start until you’re out of sight, and then the poor doctor wishes to never have met him.

He asks the weirdest things; from what are the risk of that surgery, how is it going to be done and why can’t he see it from the transparent glass, to how high is the death percent of that hospital. In a few minutes, while he’s waiting for you to be released, he looks up into the internet all the information about that place, which only makes the situation worse.

Melissa has to hold him down because he gets riled up about the hygienic measures that are being taken, and he probably gets kicked out of the hospital by the security. That doesn’t stop him from staying in the front door, sitting on the hard ground for hours, until she comes back and tells him to wait in her office.

It doesn’t matter if you recovery is short of long. Stiles can stay in a small chair and even sleep on the floor to just stay with you. He might not be able to control things inside the surgery, but he will take care of you not feeling alone while you’re there.

Time (you’re ill and only have a few months to live)

Kind of a short imagine, I hope you like it!

Another cough left your lips, although you tried to cover it with your elbow. It seemed impossible as at least ten more shook your weak body, and soon Stiles was by your side with a glass of water and a comforting smile, his eyes full of sleep.

You hadn’t meant to wake him up, he hadn’t sleep probably in days and he needed a few hours of sleep. But he was too caring towards you, and probably your blinking would have woken him up in some moment.

“How are you feeling? Do you want me to call Melissa?” he asked with a quiet and calm voice, a huge contrast with his nervous self.

Shaking your head softly, not that the constant pain let you do it any harder, you moved slowly so that he could lay with you in bed. He stood in his place, doubting if that was a good idea; after looking at your pleading and not so bright eyes, he sighed and laid with you.

It didn’t feel natural, even if you were cuddling him like always and he was still the same boy you had been in love for years. It didn’t feel natural because a few inches from your bed, in your nightstand, stood the pile of receipts and medical stuff you had decided to ignore. Cancer had won the battle, and you were both aware of that.

For two years, you had tried to overcome it. Stiles had been by your side, doing the impossible to keep up with the university and spend time with you every day. It had not been enough, and the only thing you got was two months before it was over for you.

“I’m going to miss this” you whispered. “I don’t think anyone has this ugly t-shirts up there.”

You heard him taking a shaky breath and he squeezed you tighter, trying to not break down again.

“And Scott’s confused face” you attempted to laugh, only to come out as a sad cry. “I-I’m going to miss so many things, I guess. If there is-“

“Shut up” Stiles interrupted you. “Shut up, please Y/N. I can’t bear to think any more about losing you.”

“But it’s going to happen, baby” you said, moving your pale hand and gripping his own. “I don’t want to spend my last month in silence. I want to remember the sound of your voice and laugh.”

“How can I laugh when the best thing in my life is going to disappear?” he chocked a sob. “I don’t want to live like this! It’s not fair!”

After that words, he let the tears run wild. Of all the people that surrounded him, of all the causes behind a death that were possible in his life, it had to be you and because of the stupid cancer.

He had been in denial at first, not wanting to accept that the love of his life, his anchor, was slipping away. Stiles had ignored you for almost two weeks when he learned about your condition, until you fainted in your house and Scott called him from the hospital. Since then, he had been by your side; when you decided you didn’t want the chemo, when you went back home and when you needed help for things as simple as getting into the shower.

“I don’t mind” you looked up and gave him a calm smile. “I think I’ve lived a good life, Stiles. With friends, family. With you. I wouldn’t change the time I’ve spent with you for thousand years of life, you know? You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“And you’re mine, Y/N” he smiled back through the tears.

“Promise me you will keep going” you frowned “That you will finish college, find a work you love and a family to build.”

“I can’t promise you that because you’re in all of those things!”

“Stiles, I want to go knowing that you will keep going” you reached his face with your hand, wiping his tears. “Please.”

“Then don’t fucking go. It’s-It’s not fair, it should have been me who went up first! I’m the one who is always messing with danger, not you.”

“Baby, if it’s this way it’s because I wouldn’t be able to go on without you” you let out a sad laugh. “But you’re. Please, Stiles. Promise me you will build a life.”

“I promise, Y/N. For you, I promise.”

You smiled happily, and went back to the comfort of laying on his chest. Soon, your eyes closed and a dreamless sleep came to you. For Stiles wasn’t the same; sleep seemed to avoid him. The only thing that filled his head were the facts. Obvious facts that he hated.

How your hands were colder, your cheeks hollower and your lips bluer. The pale tone of your skin, the shakiness in your bones. It was not fair, he thought. Not fair.

Unfair (someone’s unfair with you)

Look up to Humiliation.

Vent (how do they let things out after a bad day?)

He doesn’t like to vent out to you, you’ve done nothing wrong and his anxiety is not your fault. So he always tries to have a little time for himself whenever things turn wrong. He’ll lock himself up in his room, which usually lets his father know that there is something wrong. The sheriff calls you and you’re up in his room in no time, so his plan of calming down before venting this is ruined.

Your arms are always his safe place, and even if he won’t admit it to his friends, he loves being the small spoon and being cuddled. His head on your chest and his arms around your middle as you stroke his hair is probably his favourite position. Then, once he’s comfortable, he feels like he can vent out. At first it will only be one word, whatever is bothering him will be just a whisper. You have to encourage him for a while until he won’t shup up.

Probably it has to be with the coach, with supernatural matters or with his friends; whatever it is, you listen to it closely and he’s forever grateful for that.

Weak (they break down in front of you)

On the contrary of what people might think, he’s not afraid of crying in front of you. Stress and need might not be his favourite emotion to share, but he’s comfortable enough around you to cry and be himself in front of you.

Sometimes, he will appear in your house at two in the morning, when the demons around his past and mind are too much. He asks you to hold him, not wanting to talk about it but whishing to be with you.

(I know this is short, but I’ve written about his emotions and the way he handle them in other letters)

XX (sexual assault) PLEASE WARNING: THIS IS RAPE. NON-CON. IT DOESN’T TALK ABOUT IT, IT HAPPENS. I DON’T APPROVE THIS, AND IF YOU’RE UNDERAGE OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT SCROLL TO THE NEXT LETTER.

The person who requested this wasn’t comfortable with rape.

Yearn (something they want and they can’t have)

On the outside, Stiles is a sarcastic bitch who drinks his coffee black and trolls everyone and everything. On the inside, you have learn that there are a lot of insecurities and problems, hidden deep in his feelings. Talking about it is hard for him, and you need a lot of patience to overcome his sarcasm and reach his pain.

He yearns a life with his mother, for example. He will always regret her being ripped away from him so soon, and sometimes, he even feels guilty for his death. Stiles has heard his father talking about how she killed herself because of her dementia, that made her think he was dangerous. When those thoughts fill his head, he sends you a message, asking you if you can pass by. Usually he’s the one who appears in your home, so when he sends it you know something is wrong. Just your presence and knowing you won’t leave him it’s enough for him to have faith in himself.

Zombie Apocalypse (how would they survive in a zombie apocalypse)

Stiles would be the key of the group. Even if a lot of people don’t think he’s worthy, he’s good in plan making and always has a solution for your problems. He’s not very good with weapons, so given a risky situation is up to you to probably protect him, since he’s a little scared of the zombies (even if he doesn’t say it out loud). However, he’s always worried about you and won’t hesitate to throw himself in danger because of you.

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[imagine-loki]

You owe me, Chapter 27

TITLE: You owe me CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 27 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine after the battle in New York, Odin sent Loki back to Earth without his powers as punishment. SHIELD are after him and he meets a woman who isn’t all she seems at first and she has her own agenda. The two end up teaming up, to help one another. But it’s not quite as plain sailing as they’d hoped. RATING: M

‘Let’s get him!’ April went to move from their hiding spot, but Loki grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

‘Not yet. We need to scope this place out, figure out how many girls are here. We have to tread carefully.’ He said firmly, hauling her back down to crouch beside him.

April knew that Loki was right. They couldn’t go in all guns blazing until they knew what they were dealing with.

‘How do we do that?’ April sighed and ran her hand down her face.

She watched in irritation as Alexander swanned around inside the hotel’s restaurant, men around him and a few girls dotting around. Having large glass windows was rather handy for Loki and April to watch through. They were hidden behind a bush at the other side of the car park, opposite the restaurant.

‘Let’s go back to our hotel, come up with a plan.’ Loki kept hold of April’s wrist, making sure she didn’t try anything foolish, and they made their way back down the road to where they were staying.

The hotel they had booked into was quite fancy, it had a swimming pool, spa and a Jacuzzi. But April wasn’t in the mood to take advantage of the facilities, not while Alexander was so close.

When they were back in their room, April kept pacing back and fore. She couldn’t settle.

Loki was sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his clasped hands.

‘We need to act now. What if something spooks him and he runs off somewhere else?’

‘We will act once we have a plan. We can’t go barging in there like Bilgesnipe, because that will cause him to spook and run.’ Loki said calmly.

‘Bilg-what?’ April looked at him confused, as she continued walking back and fore.

‘Never mind. We can’t go barging in. But I do have a plan. I will go in and try to make contact with him, claiming I am interested in his stock. See if I can get somewhat close to him, or even a meeting with him. Once I figure out where the girls are, then we can attack.’ Loki suggested.

‘Ok. Let’s do it now then!’ April said eagerly, only stopping momentarily until Loki shook his head.

‘Not yet. There’s a party at the hotel tomorrow, that’s the perfect opportunity to do so. And first, I need you to contact Nate, see if he can get us information on someone close to Alexander that I can refer to, so he trusts me.’

‘Ok. I’m on it.’ April pulled out her phone and sent a quick text, receiving one just as quick back from Nate saying he would get onto it straight away.

‘Are you going to sit down or are you going to burn a hole in the damn carpet?’ Loki asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

‘I can’t just sit around and wait, Loki. I need to go and spy on him again, keep a close eye.’ She said in a rush, then made a move towards the door.

‘April.’ Loki barked, stopping her in her tracks.

She turned around to face him but was antsy and couldn’t stand still. Loki knew how hard this was for her, but he also knew she could easily blow it if she wasn’t careful and calm.

He sat up straight and motioned her to him with a come-hither finger. She rolled her eyes but went over to him. When she reached him, he spread his legs open and captured her in his arms, pulling her in against him. He hooked his ankles around hers, keeping her in place.

‘I know you are anxious to get him, love. But we have to this right. I don’t want you getting hurt either, which you will if you go charging in.’ His tone was gentle yet with a hint of firmness too. He reached up and cupped her chin. ‘I promise you, we will get him.’

April sighed and nodded. Loki then slid his hands down to her hips, squeezing her. ‘Come on, I’m taking you out for dinner to take your mind off it.’ Loki grinned and stood up, making her stumble back slightly, but Loki’s arm around her waist steadied her.

‘Dinner?’ April frowned.

‘Yes, dinner. You know, where we go out to a nice restaurant to eat.’ Loki said cheekily as he went to her bag and pulled out a nice dress she had, tossing it to her. ‘Get changed.’

She still looked slightly bewildered as she looked at the dress, and then up to Loki again.

‘Like a date?’ She said, her voice slightly higher than she meant to.

Loki shrugged. ‘Why not? You’re mine and I would quite like to show you off.’

April’s jaw hung open, she didn’t really know what to say to that. What could she say to that?

She started to get changed, then noticed Loki was just standing there staring at her.

‘Aren’t you getting changed too?’ She asked as she pulled on the dress.

‘I’m just waiting for you.’ He grinned and in a shimmer of green, he changed from his jeans and t-shirt into an all-black suit, tie and everything. His shoes immaculately polished, April was sure she would be able to see her face in them.

Loki grinned at the way she was eyeing him up, unconsciously licking her lips. He raised an eyebrow and tipped his head towards her, silently urging her to continue getting ready.

He thought she was ready once she had her dress and heels on, but then she grabbed her make-up bag and started sorting her face.

Loki groaned and ran his hand down his face as he leaned against the door. ‘You do not need to fuss with your face, April.’

‘Of course I do. Not going on a supposed date looking like a zombie.’

‘Maybe I like the zombie look.’ Loki winked at her with a smirk.

‘Yeah, but you’re a weirdo.’ She smirked back at him.

Loki chuckled and continued to wait until April deemed herself ready to go.

‘Ready now?’ Loki asked, hoping they could finally go to dinner.

‘Don’t sound so grumpy. Going on a date with a God, of course I need to look good.’ April grinned and walked up to him, she slid her arms around him underneath his jacket.

‘True.’ Loki nodded and leaned down to kiss her on the lips. ‘Now, let’s go!’

He took her hand and the two took a walk through the city. Loki seemed to have a place in mind, so April just went with it. She thought it was sweet how he was trying to take her mind off Alexander. It was much needed, too.

And it worked, Loki was the perfect gentleman. Treated April like a princess. Tucking her chair in for her, ordering on her behalf, ordering the most expensive wine. Not to mention the food was great, April had no idea how he discovered the place, but she certainly wasn’t complaining as she tucked into a delicious steak.

‘I still can’t believe you eat yours practically still moo’ing.’ April said to Loki, pointing at his plate.

‘It’s medium-rare. Hardly still alive.’ Loki chuckled. ‘Besides, you lose the wonderful texture if you over cook it. Here, try a bit.’ He cut a bit off and held his fork out towards her.

‘It’s still pink on the inside!’ April scrunched her nose up.

‘Just try it.’ Loki growled low, a smirk on his face.

April sighed but gave in and tried it. Her face turned from looking disgusted to looking rather surprised.

‘Ok… I see your point. That is tasty and a nice texture. But still, I’d rather not have blood on my plate.’ She then proceeded to squirt some more tomato ketchup onto her plate, making Loki laugh.

‘Sometimes fresh meat can be the tastiest.’ Loki winked at her.

April raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Is that supposed to be a euphemism?’

‘Perhaps.’ Loki just had a smug look on his face while he continued eating. 

But Loki did have other ideas. When they returned to their hotel room, his gentlemanly demeanour went flying out the door. He pinned her against the wall and started assaulting her mouth with his own, as if trying to swallow her whole. She could taste the wine on his lips and tongue.

April tried clawing at his clothes, but Loki didn’t let her. He unbuckled his belt and looped it around her neck, making it form like a collar and lead. Then he pushed on her shoulder.

‘Down, girl.’ He growled.

She obeyed without hesitation and sunk down to her knees on front of him. Loki’s grin grew even larger and he gripped her chin, his thumb popping into her mouth. ‘Good girl.’ He purred when she sucked on his thumb.

His cock was hard in his trousers, so he quickly fixed that issue and pulled it free. April was always in awe at his cock, so perfect. Well, as perfect as a cock could be.

Giving a tug on the belt, choking her slightly and making her gasp, Loki removed his thumb from her mouth and gripped his cock. He rubbed it across her lips.

‘Open wide, pet. Here’s some proper raw meat.’

After April proceeded to suck Loki off, swallowing all his sperm and earning lots of praise, it was then her turn. Loki threw her on the bed and his head disappeared under her dress. Her knickers were simply torn off, like they were made of paper. A stark reminder of his strength, that only made April even more aroused.

Her thighs clenched around his head while he feasted on her. If she hadn’t known any better, she would’ve thought that he hadn’t eaten in weeks. It was like she was his final meal. She saw stars and could barely form words even in her own mind as his silver tongue skilfully twisted and wriggled inside her before being replaced by his long dastardly fingers so that his tongue could assault her clit.

When she came, she came hard and almost passed out completely.

Neither of them bothered to clean themselves up, too exhausted. So they curled up in one another’s arms and Loki pulled the blanket over them after using his Seidr to remove the rest of their clothing.

April sighed in contentment, feeling safe in Loki’s arms while she drifted off to sleep.

-

Loki woke in the middle of the night, he was slightly confused as April was no longer in bed with him. He rolled over and saw the digital clock saying it was just one am.

‘April?’ He called out into the dark room, but there was no answer. He couldn’t sense her at all.

Getting up, he rushed to check in the en-suite, but she wasn’t there.

‘Shit!’ He hissed and ran his hand down his face.

He had a feeling he knew exactly where she would be.