#lol we are just laughing at your cowardice

[zukishaylupo]

Lmao alter otherkin weirdo that eats meat, basically a cannibal atp

You are a coward, lol. If you are gonna give us hate, at least do it off of anon, lol.

Also, no. Cannibalism is eating your own kind. We don't do that, so wrong. Also, none of us really use the term otherkin for ourselves, really, so wrong there as well, lol.

We shouldn't have even "answered" this, but literally, you are such a coward. Don't make "fun" of us or send us hate if you are just gonna be a coward about it, lol.

- Shay (They/it) 🐾

[characteroulette]

Actually, here's a smorgasboard of fic recs because why not --

The Things We Do For Gym Access by Queenychu (ongoing): Klapollo fic where they are fake dating and gym buddies. Lots of cute drama, a slow burn making me chew on my own arm, and describes gender euphoria so well it gives it to me second hand (also makes me want to get back to a Gym lol)

In Pursuit of Justice by StrawhatsandDelibirds (ongoing): Apollo Justice from the view point of Klavier Gavin!! This one gets the Wocky and even Stickler voices so goddamn well it's awesome. Also love to see Klavier being both a wreck and the huge dork that he is, I legit cannot wait to see where it goes.

Your Own Cupid by mngwa (complete): a very very cute Ace Attorney fic where Athena is tired of these pining Narumitsu and Klapollo happening around her and so takes matters into her own hands. Kinda. I have a soft spot for these types of fic where the whole point is to setup the pair I'm into lol

Klavier Gavin and the Case of the Anonymous Letter by apolloyoostice (complete): Klavier is a MENACE I, too, would immediately take back my attempt to confess like that lol.

Tomatoes, laxatives, and other things that don't belong on sandwiches (complete): Klapollo work scuffle in which I sided with Apollo the whole time, but absolutely revelled in Klavier's cowardice. Probs steps over a few bounds I don't quite agree with, but it's still a fun romp!

Tragedy by Verse (complete): Phoenix Wright and his relationship to an outer god who seemingly controls the trajectory of his life while it is present. Absolutely beautiful and, indeed, tragic.

Darling, Oh by bootishbint (complete): Snufkin and Moomin have a day at the beach. I nearly have the summary of this one memorised, I like it so much. The language in here and just the title haunt me so, I'm love it.

And Worship the Trousers That Cling to Him by ladysisyphus (complete): a Persona 4 everyone/Yosuke sorta comedy fic. This made me laugh so hard with a bonus HELLO???? moment with Yu specifically near the end. ""If I didn't have this, no one else would be able to have you."" LIKE HELLO!!! I am HERE for casual shit like that dropped in there, Yu is a goddamn funnyman XD

anyway yeah have fun

[snow-and-saltea]

People I'd like to know better

Tagged by @paleasamoon (hi tex i love you tex sorry this took a year) (HEH. get it. cus you tagged me last year. heh.)

Last song: just putting on yt music as im reading manga and talking to muwi, and now its playing burn for you, from the bridgerton musical! (i don't know watch or follow it) (it's just a nice song) but i'd also like to recommend this song

Favourite colour: YELLOW!!!! 💛💛💛💛💛💛

Currently watching: my computer screen writing this up

Last movie / TV show: skip to loafer! i was screaming with muwi the entire time bc the story was so sweet and healing and everyone is so sympathetic and cute and we kept being like AAAAAAAAAA I LOVE WOMEN FRIENDSHIPS SO MUCHHHHHH

Spicy/savoury/sweet: sweet! if i could choose a combo, i like savoury-sweet. i like spice but only if i like the flavour! i'm not keen on the actual pain sensation of spice!!

Last thing I googled: hummmm i don't remember... i think a marinade recipe i made yesterday night? i made a korean base marinade for some lamb chops!! i cooked them today and invited my sister to eat with us, it was rlly yummy!

Relationship status: single! waves my aroace flag!!! i'm curious about how it feels to be in a relationship but it's not smth i try to actualize LOL i'm content w reading my shoujosei man-ga/hwa/huas <33

Current obsession: idk if i could call them obsessions yet but right now i'm really invested in sousou no frieren (anime only, havent caught up to the manga), skip to loafer (same there), and i'm looking for more wholesome healing stories. although now that i'm going through my reading lists for stories i've dropped, i'm laughing at them fjaksfjkasfj

(i promise this one has proper context bc i usually like pacifist mcs just bc i like politics and connection seeking to be based on a foundation of empathy and kindness. but this one was just so stupid and just a way to establish how good the mc was to the point that i couldn't get immersed in the story bc it was that nonsensical and i wanted to die)

i'm typically fine w mary sues / jane(?) FLs and i even tend to be biased for them just bc there's a lot of misogyny about the subject matter, so i normally don't bat an eye unless it's a writing choice i find unsuitable / doesn't fulfill the potential it could've achieved with an interesting plot.

(btw the context is that the first screenie which this rant also applies to was when some guy caught the baddies and the FL is like "No let's reward them for trying to kill us. they're just misunderstood!! i bet if we try really hard we can all get along!!")

but! i only really like it when it actually does something useful, like thematically or symbolically. like tohru's innate goodness for furuba inline with the sohma's family curse and mitsumi's unending positivity and earnestness that helps the people around her heal from emotional wounds. not that they're mary sues in any way, but since people understand mary sues as "female protagonists who can do no wrong and will be liked no matter what" (even thought their psychology and personality is just genuinely likeable), i think it makes my point clear. there's a way to write a character who is Good and Kind without cheapening them to a naivete that at best, makes the mc pitiable, or worst, is treated like the mc's totally unique worldview of "lets be nice to people and never hurt anyone ever :)" is the end all be all of the story and the solution to the plot. kindness and empathy is a coiled spring that projects you forward, a motivator. it's how you guide your hand and where it goes, not that the hand is never raised. i don't agree that cowardice towards change and the potential promise of conflict is any kind of wisdom >:T plus it kinda puts the shame to the idea of kindness as a legitimate basis for political strategy, and that leads to some set up for a lot of zero sum games i don't care for in this specific story. there is a good story where each character is trying to one up each other politically, psychologically, at all times, but this is not that story and so the tone feels very off kilter.

but yeah!! sometimes a character is just OP and the story is not even having fun with it (aka its not satire or irony), which makes me think they want to take it seriously. and my serious thoughts was that it sucked.

(i just realised this also applies to the first screenie LMFAO it just loops back huh!!)

not gonna comment about the others bc i think they speak for themselves <33 but also the first one of these three is fucked up in the sense that i dont even get where they're going w the story. its a revenge story and the FL uses the ML from childhood to achieve her revenge, but then suddenly when he's an adult she has Feelings for Him and now im like.... okay....? belief no longer suspended. beliefs are like those garter straps that snapped. my socks are like my beliefs. fallen to my feet. they are no longer suspended.

sorry that got off track </33 i enjoy looking into why i dont like things, im in this stage of life where i realise i actually have specific ass tastes!! i always have, but i just realised it very recently a few years back fjskfjskjf

People I'd like to know better (i also wanna include some mutuals who i haven't talked to but i like to see on my dash):

@snickerdoodlles

@fflewddurfflam7

@00uroboros

@perpetualstateofcrying

@pirate-with-internet-connection

💛🐢😤💪

[maybe-theres-hope]

For @tailoredshirt bc you literally asked and I am but a simple writer who needs validation to live lol here is the whole scene (dialogue ripped straight from the movie, and that will happen on several occasions throughout, but. There was a reason I picked it lol)

Also thank you to @oquinn53 for being the most amazing person and encouraging me 🖤

Tarlos Pirates of the Caribbean AU:

Tyler’s face enters his line of sight and Carlos’ breath stops for a moment. His face is radiant and open, his eyes alight with the sunny mid-morning. Port Royal is a forgotten backwater of an outpost, barely a heartbeat away from being taken by anyone who chances to happen upon her, but it’s Carlos’ home and he would have it no other way, if only just to be able to witness the Governor’s son in all his finery just once in a blue moon.

Today Tyler Strand is in a stunning light green frock coat and breeches, bringing out the green in his eyes and reflecting the waves of the Caribbean back at anyone he looks upon.

The breeches do absolutely nothing to hide the lithe tone of his form, hard won by years in the saddle. Carlos’ mouth goes dry at the thought of caressing a hand over the fabric and imagining the soft skin underneath. It isn’t proper or fair to think of Tyler in such a way, though, so he schools his features just as the man in question comes to join Carlos and Governor Strand on the steps of the mansion.

“Ah, Tyler, there you are! I was beginning to worry you'd lost your way down the hall,” the Governor chastises, though it's overtly fond. Tyler, however, only has eyes for Carlos.

“Carlos! It's so good to see you!” He exclaims as he gracefully descends the steps, coming to stand far too close for Carlos’ heart, his smile a thing of pure sunlight. “I had a dream about you last night.”

Carlos swallows, mind going nowhere it should.

When he’s silent for a beat too long, Tyler elaborates, “About the day we met, do you remember?”

Carlos smiles tightly, memories flooding him with warm sea air and cold saltwater in his mouth, opening his eyes to look upon a curious face that, even back then, was so beautiful.

He dreams of that day nearly every night. And most days as well.

“How could I forget, Mr. Strand?” He says courteously. Tyler laughs and it's like music.

“Carlos, how many times must I ask you to call me Tyler?”

“At least once more, Mr. Strand, as always.”

It is the wrong thing to say.

He watches with sadness as the sunlight in Tyler’s face is shaded by clouds, his eyes going hard and hurt, his mouth forming a thin line. All familiar from the last time they had this same exchange. Carlos finds it harder each time to convince himself of his reasoning for remaining so distant–society, propriety, the Governor–but in reality it's his own doing. His own cowardice. How he wishes he was brave and valiant enough to warrant the affections of such a creature as Tyler Strand.

The Governor is saying something else and then he's ushering Tyler towards a waiting carriage, the rapier Carlos has lovingly made over a period of weeks clutched under his arm.

“Good day, Mr. Reyes,” is Tyler’s cold, final reply before he turns on his heel and continues down the steps to the carriage.

“Good day,” Carlos murmurs under his breath, trying out the name on his lips like he's allowed such an intimacy, “Tyler.”

It tastes like a forbidden caress.

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

ask thing! 1, 2, 47 (although feel free to say bff or marry since these questions are weird LOL), 50, 60, annnnnnd 83? 👀👀👀

hellooooo friend thanks for sending the thingggg <3 1. What is your biggest turn off in a person? ooof a lot of things bc i am a Bitch ahahahaha. jk, i won't act like a bitch if i don't like you but i am veeery picky about who i actually choose as my friend. i really dislike cowardice in people, generally, but esp regarding personal relationships -- we are all little gremlins afraid of rejection, but i feel like that's no excuse not to at least Try ya feel me? it also makes my blood boil when ppl try to rationalise or explain their lack of empathy and human decency as some sort of natural selection like oh i am right to hate this person because they are WEAK like. pls chill :) you are allowed to hate who you want but pls don't be self righteous about it! this also applies to ppl rationalising bad things happening to ppl as something they deserved -- i am aware this is their defence mechanism so their brain wouldn't have to deal with the reality of a Bad Thing happening to them but it makes me so angry lol -- they apply this child-level analogy of like bad things happen to bad ppl and i am Good so therefore nothing Bad will Ever happen to me and usually those ppl have also read about law of attraction and heavily misinterpreted what that's actually about :) also -- selfishness is a biiig turn off! 2. What is your biggest turn on in a person? i will tolerate many things if i like your general vibe hahah! a really big thing for me is actually being able to have quality conversations during which i feel seen. i like people who are able to process and actually hear the things you say and then actually respond to them -- many times ppl will just wait for their turn to talk or not even try to understand where you're coming from, which is fine i guess, but pls miss me with that shit bc i have no patience for it! i guess that requires a high level of emotional intelligence and that's a trait i highly value in ppl! i will try my best to offer the same courtesy to them! i also love when ppl just... try, you know? i understand it can be hard but i really love it when ppl just show up in a relationship (of any kind), flawed and broken, i don't care, but they came and they put in the effort and i will also put in the effort and.... congratulations!! you are building a relationship haha. for real i just love when ppl care and then they show they care, and sometimes it's just as simple as showing up and getting coffee together even though you're busy. it's surprising how many ppl just act on their natural instinct to pull away or get scared of genuine connection (myself included but i am WORKING on it okay). 47. If you could choose one Disney princess to be your best friend who would you chose? i chose to read this as "wife" instead of "bff" and i will have to say megara from hercules, she's exactly the type of woman that i'd go crazy about irl hahaha 50. If you had to live in the world of the last T.V. show you watched where would you be living? thaaaat would actually have to be wednesday hahha! no complaints, any world that has larissa weems in it is a good world to me! as for murderous monsters, those exist in every world, i'm not too worried haha 60. What is a relationship deal breaker for you? my last relationship ended bc my ex had trouble showing me she cared about me in a way i could understand, which, now that i think about it, is a reason many of my relationships came to an end or fizzled out over time, i just wasn't feeling appreciated. so i guess if i'm not feeling wanted i will not waste my time being there, i no longer do that to myself (i used to tho!) 83. What was the last thing that made you laugh? i laugh a LOT ahahahah and i find the stupidest things very funny. i think the last thing that made me scream with laughter was a video of an escape room chase lol it was very scooby-doo-esque. i was watching it with my sibling and literally banging my fists on the table here's a link to it if anyone is interested but prepare to be disappointed bc my sense of humour is that of a 5 year old

[otakween]

One Pound Gospel - Episode 2

Another solid episode, this time covering the Kurusu arc. It was good to have a 2nd episode where Kosaku loses because it establishes that this show has real stakes and anything can happen. We also saw a lot more nuns this time which is good because I thought there was only going to be 3 lol.

Notes:

2nd episode in a row where Kosaku gets a ball chucked at his head. Kinda weird that they did that again. Do they just want to demonstrate his reflexes are good? lol

The Chairman is definitely my fave character, she plays an awesome straight man and I love her bluntness. I'm often put off by Japanese forced politeness but she doesn't seem to play by those rules.

I was wondering how they were going to cast someone with a "scary face" but they just made the actor make an intimidating expression lol, close enough.

Kurusu's cowardice was cute and funny. I liked his "stay away punch" that the guys from the gym pointed out. This adaptation has more peanut gallery commentary than the manga which adds a nice dimension for non-boxing fans like me.

Another episode with no sign of Kosaku being a Christian. It's not like I care, but I would think that would be something that he could connect with Angela on so it's a little strange they've left it out.

Kosaku was a major ass to Angela this time. He definitely earned that slap she gave him. At least she wears the pants in the relationship. He...somewhat respects her consent (like, he did kidnap her but when she resisted he relented lol)

Wasn't sure what to make of Kurusu and Natsuki's relationship. On the one hand, he was being a big wuss, but on the other, I didn't really like her smacking him around. Aside from the physical abuse, I guess there's a limit to how much you should respect your partner's wishes if you know they're giving up on their dream for a dumb reason...

Why is Mother Abbess such a Angela/Kosaku shipper in this lol? She's the exact opposite of what she was in the manga. It's more fun this way though, so I'll take it.

Omg, I just zoomed in on one of my screenshots and realized that they were reading Ranma 1/2 in one scene. I see what they did there 😏

The random teenager (I think he's the Chairman's son?) feels kind of out of place as a character. I guess he's sort of like an audience-character reacting to everything Kosaku does. It's kind of like...does this kid have a life?

I learned from this show that nuns use keigo (polite language) at all times. I had no idea! It makes them sound very elegant.

I don't know why but this scene made me laugh

(I have friend I'd like to say this to)

The Chairman begrudgingly accepting Kosaku's stupid motivations to win was a funny running gag.

[vashtijoy]

It also bears pointing out that all of this right-wing questioning, trying to destroy Labour by (shock!) making them commit to trans rights, is coming in the wake of this story on the 21st (link to the BBC because fuck The Times):

Like... if you don't understand that this is a thunderbolt aimed at the heart of Labour's campaign, then you don't understand British politics, or JKR's unholy influence on it. The whole point of this intervention from the Death Eater Queen was because Labour were not shitting on trans people enough for her liking. And the reason the right are hammering Labour on this is because they know they're "weak" on it—that they do consider trans rights as important.

tl;dr: Labour are pursuing what's being called a "Ming vase" strategy; they are trying to get across the line in an incredibly conservative country—with, specifically, an incredibly terfy public discourse. (Note, that's not an incredibly terfy public, as polling has repeatedly shown—but in elections, small numbers of votes can be incredibly important.)

I'll say that again: in an election, small numbers of votes can be incredibly important. And I'll also say this: I truly believe that the best thing we can all do for trans people in the UK, right now at this election, is to vote tactically against the Tories in whatever way that looks like.

This is where I'm coming from: I'm an old lady (lol). I remember Margaret Thatcher's pearl-clutching speech in the 80s about how children were "being taught that they have an inalienable right to be gay". I was in school under Section 28, in a system where you could be beaten up for being queer but your teachers could not tell you it was okay to be gay. I, personally, saw one of my teachers panic when, as a bullied, depressed and neurodivergent-before-it-was-cool kid, I told her I was worried I might be a lesbian—because it was illegal for her to counsel me.

I recognise transphobic rhetoric as hateful, because I saw the same exact arguments and logical fallacies trotted out against lesbians and gays in the 80s and 90s. And so I recognise that Labour's messaging on this is profoundly different in nature to that of the Tories.

To be clear: Labour's cowardice on trans rights is profoundly disappointing. It is shameful. But Labour at least talk about trans people like they're people. The Tories talk about them as if they're the beast.

Labour are not going to give us what we want on trans rights, because that isn't where our national politics is—but they are at least legislating with the idea that trans people are human. Can you look at the Tories and sincerely say that? Can you look at Sunak laughing about Starmer "not knowing what a woman is" in front of the mother of murdered trans girl Brianna Ghey, and sincerely say that about them? Can you look at Kemi Badenoch sticking "male" and "female" signs on unisex toilets and say that about them?

As far as wider progressive issues go: I'm also a disabled woman, dependent on state benefits. I am terrified of another Tory government. They have no interest in people like me; they will continue to cut the support I need, including the NHS, to the bone. Their contempt for me and those like me makes me fear for my life.

Are Labour any better? Well, I'd be remiss not to point out that it was Labour who introduced the notorious WCA (Work Capability Assessment), back in the mid-00s. But at the end of the day, Labour depend on the votes of people like me. The Tories don't care if I live or die. In fact, their voter base would largely prefer that I die, if it means they can have another tax cut. I believe things will still be bad under Labour, but they won't be as bad.

I could get into other things, like Labour's manifesto offering the vote to 16/17 year olds while Sunak wants to take away their right to a driving licence or finance if they don't do mandatory national service. But that's really a side issue. Just another of the glaring, very real differences between the two parties.

A vote for Labour isn't a vote that Keir Starmer is perfect and everything he does is perfect forever and ever; it's a vote for whether you want him or Rishi "he doesn't know what a woman is! lol!" Sunak in number 10. We're not voting to change the world. We're only voting for how we want the world we have to be managed. God, voting should never be all of your activism—because we can't change the world at the ballot box; that's just not the system we have.

But we can stem the bleeding. We can slow the damage. We can make a choice to do that—to bring in a more centrist, thoughtful government (which yes, is better, compared to Sunak's cackling bats' nest of hateful culture warriors) that we can then pressure to be better. We can have five or ten years to silence the right wing, to drive the Overton window to the left, to change discourse in this country in a more human direction.

That's worth voting for. It's worth fighting for.

Whoever you vote for, please vote on July 4th—and vote well.

The Labour Party are going to introduce a new Section 28.

Seriously, ask yourself before you go into that voting booth on July 4th. What is the point of voting Labour if they are just going to enact Tory policy.

[the-firebird69]

Watch "Pink Floyd - Run Like Hell (PULSE Restored & Re-Edited)" on YouTube

So some a****** came in the sky is this bouchera but with blonde and look like in my mom and what it means is that the guy Randy root his father he doesn't know how to read or write and he's illiterate he has some decent businesses and he ran a lot of things but he is completely illiterate and he did not succeed and this guy Dave stager is illiterate he does not know how to be to write code and you need to be fast at it and accurate you need to have teams of people reading and writing code I can't just run around using hand signals and telling everybody that you're the best in your king Cuba and they hate you and they'll believe it and all the sudden crap because you're doing something to someone who's alone and defenseless it's really a disgusting scene but he's going to keep on doing it and so the other idiots from USF and I guess it's their choice to get rid of themselves suicide is not illegal really in this realm it's looked down on it's a shameful act it's cowardice but if they want to do that they can go ahead and they'll take your stuff

Zues Hera

I say is it is countless they're stupid and they're too dumb to be able to analyze it and they're ruining everything on top of it and enabled this other guy who's also suicidal and he's a wimp it's a massive wind caves every time that they're really destructive people and they don't have much for lives and then ruining everyone else's so it's a sweet move if it works and should then it's going to do it cuz you can't stand them no one else can it says we're doing it still and he won't stop saying it and we have to prepare for it because half these idiots believe that I also believe that they can take over by believing it and boy are they giving a friend a hard time they are such weasels and assholes he's diving hole too quite literally his monsters just walk up and eat huge handfuls about 10 million a handful and I like feelings cuz they don't understand what they're looking at

Mac

Mushugija

Zues Hera hahaha lol he says stop treating me like I'm a Jew

Yeah okay

Mac daddy

This is your father and mother calling stuff using those terms since aye aye captain and doing the best I can. So laughing but it's gross down there it's a heaping pile of complete moron he lives with a near y'all think they're an AI man and they're disgustingly ignorant it's huge pile of stupid guy to the right is threatening our son is saying to Nick him and the neck and stuff for other people and playing Mac so we're going to arrest them shortly not mad of course this is too idiots the head hung low guy hey look it's hung low

Olympus

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

So for the first time, I'm sending an ask as non-anon. Wriggling out of my cowardice slowly lol. Can I get HCs for the boys with a demisexual gf? (Literally my OC for Donnie, sorry if it's weird) Like she's so disinterested in every other being sexually and yet she gets pretty suggestive and seductive with them and they're like "what's going on??" Confrontation and coming out? Only if you're comfortable doing this ASTEHDHIDJEJDC SO HARD NOT BEING AN ANON-

My friend's bf literally didn't know she was demi (yet) and came to me asking for advice on how to respond to those advances lol. It was such a funny situation, so that's where I got this idea.

Love that for you that you're finding the confidence to ask for stuff off anon, proud of you, sweets! And of course I'm comfortable writing this for you, I'm asexual myself so I love writing about asexual s/o's :)

also just to clarify that I have the right definition, demisexual is a type of asexuality where you only feel sexual attraction after a strong connection is formed, right?? That's what it said when I looked it up, so that's what I'll write xox

Leo

so you and Leo have been together for a couple of weeks

and he hasn't had many relationships before you, but the few he has been in have always lead to sex by now....This one hasn't

and you're flirty as fuck, this is the only problem

Leo will say something like "Oh, I'm talking too much aren't I? Sorry"

and you'll reply "Well, I think we could put your mouth to better use ;) "

but it doesn't lead to anything

so one day, after a particularly bad night of patrol, he's had enough

he just came home and wants some intimate time with his s/o and you seem to be playing games

"What the fuck, y/n?? All I want is to curl up in bed with you and you seemed to want the same, but now you're acting all weird! Did I do something? Am I not enough for you?"

you have to take a deep breath, you always knew it would come to this

"Leo..." you begin "I'm demisexual..."

the look on his face tells you that he has no idea what that is

so you continue "I only feel sexual attraction after a strong connection is formed, like love. I really like you, but I'm not quite there yet"

he sighs

he doesn't want to pressure you, he knows you have to be ready before anything happens

"Ok, ok... But can you tone down the flirting, please? It's driving me crazy"

you agree to that

at least most of the time you do, sometimes the opportunity to be a brat is just too much tho

Raph

Ok so Raph is just a sexual BEAST

not much dating experience before you but he is so ready to jump into bed

and he thinks you want the same thing

he's pretty nervous so he doesn't do much to make it happen, but every suggestive comment from you kind of make him feel like something will happen

every "hey, big guy" with a wink, every lingering glance at him....

He thinks he's gonna get lucky about 7 times a day with you

but it never goes anywhere

until one day he bites the bullet

"why won't you fuck me?"

plain, simple, to the point. That's Raph

you're kind of taken off guard

he's never been that direct about it before so there's no side stepping this question like the other times

"I'm demisexual, baby. I- I don;t feel sexual attraction until I'm in love with someone. We'll get there eventually though!"

he takes you at your word

but every time you flirt with him after he asks if you're in love with him yet...

if you're not he always mutters "fucking demi..." under his breath which makes you laugh

Mikey

So Mikey and you are a match

he's a flirt

you're a flirt

sounds great right??

apart from the one factor of: you guys are dating but still haven't done the horizontal tango yet...

the tipping point for him was when you filmed a tik tok video where you made it look like you were about to blow him only to reach under the couch to get something

to which his response was: "my balls, they're so blue...ugh blue balls, nooooo"

you felt like it was only right to tell him

"Mikey, angel...I'm demisexual."

he has no idea what that means a straight up says "Yeah, I don't know what that means but it sounds cool!"

you explain

he nods and makes sounds as if he gets it

which he clearly doesn't

you laugh and try again "Sooo, basically when I feel a strong emotional bond to someone, only then am I sexually attracted to them"

now he understands

and he's not one to pressure you

but he does talk about "the day we're in love" all the time

it's kind of sweet, actually

Donnie

oh poor little Donnie

he's tried everything at this point

candle lit dinners, rose petals, surprises, heart shaped jewellery...

all to no avail

at this point he's starting to question whether or not you guys are actually dating

so one day he just asks

"Are....We ever gonna...Y'know? Take this to the next level? So to speak..."

you give him puppy dog eyes, you thought he would have figured it out by now

"some genius you are" you joke "couldn't even tell I'm demisexual" and laugh

he tilts his head, he's actually never heard of that before

you explain it to him

he seems a little disappointed

ever the romantic he is, he's already in love with you

but you're not quite there yet

"look, Donnie, it'll happen eventually. I really, really, really like you. Just give me a bit more time?"

"you're worth waiting for"

he melts your heart with that

but he gives you all the time and space you need

and maybe the odd side eye of disapproval when you're a little too flirtatious with him

[keister-meister]

could you imagine how unbearable fandom would be if jk had made dudley hot? You know people would be bending over backwards to defend him, talking all 'Its not his fault he bullies the shit put of harry!'. also sidenote, why do people think draco is hot? People really showing they think a blonde white boy who's not fat is automatically gorgeous, dude is literally never mentioned to be attractive. But seriously fandom morals are disney morals - ugly=irredeemable/boring, hot= interesting, good.

You don't see people talking about Dudley very often in this fandom, but he was sort of more redeemed than Draco in the end. With Draco's redemption... it's kind of left up to your imagination. You just have to imagine he got better during the years between the battle of Hogwarts and the epilogue. Of course there's Cursed Child, but we all know how well people in this fandom take canon they don't like. 🤣

Yeah, Draco was never implied to be attractive and it's interesting that the fandom almost unanimously treats him like he is. Being from a Nordic country I can confirm that not all blond, light-eyed and very pale people are gorgeous or even attractive like you see in media, lol. Despite its unfortunate implications, the association of fairness and beauty still persists in western culture, and a lot of us don't probably even stop to think about it because it's not spelled out as much anymore.

And as much as I hate bringing movie actors into discussion (you know when they go like "you only like Snape because of ALaN RiCkmAn"), I can't help but think it's Tom Felton who's made a lot of the fans perceive the character as attractive. Which I personally still sort of don't get because Tom Felton isn't very attractive, IMHO, but to each their own I guess.

Aside from Tom apparently being cute there's also the fact that the movies deliberately try to portray Draco in a more sympathetic light by adding things that weren't in the book. When you see fans claiming Draco had 'harsh' or even 'abusive' parents, it's clear their perception of canon is largely affected by the movies and/or fanfiction. And who can you thank for this? Jason Isaacs.

Jason is probably my favorite actor in the movies, but the harsher, bullying Lucius he plays isn't canon. JKR would laugh in your face if you went up to her and talked about Draco being abused. Then she'd tell you to stop coming up with excuses to infantilize Draco and diminish his responsibility for himself, because that's not the point of the character.

There's an alarming amount of people in this fandom who think that being a reluctant, abused (canon or not) minor whose parents have expectations is a redemption arc or at least grounds to one. It's not. Redemption involves actively changing yourself and the course of your actions for the better. Snape redeemed himself from being a Death Eater. Dudley at least somewhat redeemed himself from being a bully. Draco didn't actually redeem himself of either during the books. What he did was show the bare minimal signs of being a redeemable character, outweighed by his high self-preservation instinct (also called cowardice) and desire to be special and acknowledged - he's a very human character, even if he doesn't yet manage the actions it would take to be a good one.

Yet, a large part of the fandom seems to see some inherent goodness and value in him that they don't see in Dudley, or Snape, or Crabbe or Goyle or even some irrelevant douche like Zacharias Smith...

And it's interesting that out of these characters he also just happens to be the one the fandom treats as attractive, isn't it?

[hopelesshawks]

History of Us Part 3- Introductions

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

You trudge downstairs already dreading meeting new people. Aizawa had assured you your last name would be kept under wraps but it still feels like it’s only a matter of time before everyone figures out who you really are. There’s a reason you dye your hair, your natural coloring is too recognizable and it’s a bitter reminder of a man you actively wish to forget. For years you hated looking in the mirror until you finally convinced your mom to let you dye it. Kirishima had been kind even after finding out but Kirishima is kind to everyone. You seriously doubt everyone is as much of a cinnamon roll as he is, especially if he-who-shall-not-be-named recognizes you and blabs to everyone like the little bitch he is.

As you walk into the lounge area it’s just your luck that you spot him first. It’s like a hit to the chest, physically stopping you in your tracks. Suddenly you’re that sobbing, confused eight year old all over again, just wanting to understand how her best friend in the whole wide world could turn his back on her when she needed him most. Kirishima calling your name snaps you out of it as you roll your eyes and make your way over. If Shoto doesn’t recognize you then fine, you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing it’s upsetting you. You drop onto the couch unceremoniously in the small space between Kirishima and Bakugo, causing the blonde to shoot you a glare and huff as he and Kiri are forced to adjust themselves to make space for you. You give him a satisfied grin once you’re comfortable, which only causes his scowl to deepen more, before suddenly multiple unfamiliar faces are hovering right in your field of vision.

“Have none of you fucking heard of personal space?” you snap instinctively, feeling closed in. They seem unperturbed by your temper, instead a boy with long black hair and a wide toothy grin comments “You really are like Bakugo!” “Don’t compare me to that angry Pomeranian,” you scoff. “Hah!? The fuck you just call me half and half?” Bakugo immediately retorts, crimson eyes glaring you down as his palms spark in warning. “I called you an angry Pomeranian. You deaf or something? That why you fucking yell all the time?” you fire back as black shadows start to curl off your right hand like smoke. “You little-“ Bakugo starts to threaten, looking like he’s seconds away from launching into you and starting a proper fight, but both of you are distracted by the delighted laughter of the others. “I love you already! Name’s Mina Ashido,” the pink girl, Mina apparently, introduces herself. “Glad we’ve finally got someone who can keep Bakugo in check. I’m Kyoka Jiro,” another girl introduces. Your mind whirs as you process more and more new names. Denki Kaminari is the other blonde. The boy with the long black hair is apparently Hanta Sero. All of them introduce themselves with both their first and last names. You will not be following suit. “I’m (y/n),” you reply simply. “No surname?” the eager blonde, Denki you remind yourself, asks with a tilt of his head. The gesture reminds you of an overexcited puppy. “Nope,” is your simple reply. “Why not?” he presses. “Because I said so,” you shoot back, raising one eyebrow. To your surprise he immediately drops the subject and moves on. “So why’d you transfer?” he asks. “Moved too far from my old school,” is your quick reply. “How d’you know Kiri?” “Fatgum’s agency.” “What’s your quirk?” “Jesus Denki it’s not an interrogation. Let the girl breathe,” Sero cuts him off with a laugh, shoving Denki to the side a bit so that Sero becomes front and center in your line of vision. He openly gives you an appraising look from head to toe before saying “Don’t mind him he’s a little nosy. The better question is: are you single?” You can’t help but bark out a startled laugh at the boldness of the question. “Your laugh, while beautiful, is not an answer,” he grins. “God you guys are the worst,” Jiro groans with a roll of her eyes, “you don’t have to answer that.” “Thanks,” you laugh before turning back to Sero to say “but for the record I am single,” with a wink. Your laugh turns into a full on cackle at the way his face goes bright red. “Don’t tell me you can dish it and not take it,” you tease him. “Oh he definitely can’t take it,” Mina giggles before launching into a story to prove her point, much to Sero’s chagrin. A small part of you starts to hope that maybe this year won’t be so bad.

The sound of your laughter draws Shoto’s eyes to you. It’s such a stark contrast between how you’d looked when he last saw you. Guilt crawls up his throat like bile, leaving an acrid taste in his mouth. You’re different from when the two of you were little. Harsher. More acerbic. He’s not entirely surprised but it still saddens him. He wonders if things would’ve been different had he ignored his father’s warnings about you. He wants to ignore his father’s warning now. He wants to march right up to you and apologize for everything, lay himself out bare to prove to you he never wanted to abandon you, but something holds him back. He thinks it might be cowardice. God, how would he even begin to apologize? You were having such a bad time you moved to an entirely different prefecture and he did nothing. Of course you hate him.

Shoto is brought out of his musings by Midoriya nudging him, a questioning look in his green eyes. Midoriya would know how to right the wrongs of the past. Or at the very least would probably be able to give him some ideas. But to fully explain what had happened he’d also have to explain your father and reveal your identity. Judging by the fact your last name wasn’t even given on the list of students Aizawa gave Iida, you must be trying very hard to keep that information confidential. It’s really not his place to share and he’s hurt you quite enough already. Maybe he can talk around it a little bit though. “Midoriya, hypothetically, if you had hurt someone greatly many years ago and now had no idea how to start apologizing. What would you do?” Shoto finally asks after thinking carefully over how to phrase his question. “Hypothetically?” Midoriya asks skeptically. “Yes. Hypothetically,” Todoroki confirms. “Well I guess it depends how bad what I did was,” Midoriya hedges. “It was bad,” Shoto replies immediately, face darkening at the admission. “In this completely hypothetical scenario,” Midoriya replies with a knowing smile. “Yes exactly,” Todoroki says as he clears his throat. “Well I guess I’d start by just doing little things to show I’m sorry until we were both ready to talk and I could apologize properly,” Midoriya offers. Shoto nods thoughtfully as he mulls over Izuku’s words. Small things. He could do small things. “Hey, Todoroki-kun?” Midoriya prompts causing Shoto to return his attention to his friend. “Whatever you did to (y/n), I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think. She’ll forgive you eventually,” Midoriya assures him.

A loud boom causes both of them to jump in their seats, eyes seeking out the source only to land on you and Bakugo almost literally at each other’s throats as the two of you tumble over each other, the crowd around you still laughing at whatever had incited the tussle in the first place. Both of you look damn near feral, causing Midoriya to gulp. “Probably,” he amends, “she’ll probably forgive you eventually.” Todoroki nods almost solemnly. You may just kill him before he gets a chance to apologize. That doesn’t mean he can’t at least try though.

A/N: Am I back to daily updates on a fic again?? Maybe??? We’ll see lmao. It was fun to write more of the class and their dynamics but omg there’s so goddamn many students in class 1A idk how Horikoshi keeps up with them all 😩 also M*neta got kicked out for sexual harassment in this version of events, I refuse to write that little nightmare lol

Taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @miss-bakugo-writes @pixelwisp @larkspyrr @sokkaandzukosimp @akkaso

[krnsluvvie]

look my way!

summary: you’re in love with one of your best friends, great. the fear of rejection and despair bring you to the very edge of cowardice and before you know it, you’ve lost him to someone who was a bit braver. 

pairing(s): iwaizumi hajime x reader, platonic matsukawa x reader, platonic oikawa x reader, platonic hanamaki x reader; Seijoh 3rd years besties w reader (basically a friendship fic with angst in the background lol)

genre: angst, fluff, crackheadassery

word count: 8.7k

warnings: unspoken feelings, reader is a coward, gratuitous amount of hugging for no apparent reason

a/n: GRRRRR i hope you’ll enjoy reading! 

( *L/N = last name, F/N = first name)

masterlist

───────────────────────────────────

The grand doors to the Aoba Johsai High School barely scrape your elbow as you run through the gap straight to your class, running late and soaked in the rain. 

Morning was pretty eventful to say the least - not only had you wrongly set the alarm (somehow changing AM to PM) and completely forgotten to do some revising, but you also had not checked the forecast beforehand to prepare yourself for the brutal attack of raindrops that came your way. Bothered? Perhaps, but you couldn’t afford a walk back home for the umbrella, for you’d be more late than you already are. 

As you set foot into your classroom, everyone turns their head towards you, all kinds of expressions visible on their faces — from astonishment to disgust - all of it and all in-between. 

You simply ignore their gazes as you take a seat behind the only person you’re relatively close to — Iwaizumi. You both share a friend circle: there’s Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s childhood friend whose annoyance pushes all of you onto the edge of a cliff, Matsukawa and Hanamaki whose jokes and presence make your life a little bit brighter. As much as you love all of them equally, there’s a different feeling when it comes to Iwaizumi. It was felt back then and it is felt now. And frankly said, you don’t really know where that leads you. 

You and Iwaizumi talk sometimes - although it revolves mostly around schoolwork (as you both have the exact same classes). But it’s enough for you. It always is. Your friends pointed that years ago - how you seem to ‘favor’ him. You smacked the back of their heads. 

“L/N,” Iwaizumi turns around to greet you, only to be met with a frown and wrinkles across your forehead… oh, yes, and the badly camouflaged dark circles that lay beneath your tired eyes. You’re standing there, messenger bag draped across your body, your hair wet and the droplets dripping all over the uniform jacket.  

Before neither you nor Iwaizumi could say anything, the teacher enters the classroom. You raise your hand almost immediately and excuse yourself to the restroom. He quirks up an eyebrow at you and upon noticing your horrendous state, he curtly nods. You were quite lucky to have him arrive a tad later than usual. 

Now that you’re standing in front of the mirror, you notice just how horrible and indecent you look. You subtly shake your head and wash your face under the running tap water, not caring if it would wash off the half-assed attempt at masking fatigue. It was snippets like this when you realized how grateful you are for the times your mom still had the urge to wake you up at exact hours repeatedly, every day; it became your habit. So, it was the hunch, the inkling that something wasn’t right when your alarm didn’t go off like it normally would. You jerked up so fast it could’ve given you whiplash. 

The universe seemed to hate you and you knew it. But somehow still, your luck has pushed forward and through, and instead of being soaked wet from top to bottom, you ended up with only the upper part of your body. The weather must’ve had mercy on you as well, as it started raining half-way on your way to school. 

You splash your face with water. Over and over, and over again. It won’t alleviate the heat when you think back to your luck. You might be lucky… but not in the ways you want to.

---

“I heard your morning was rough,” is the first thing Oikawa says to you as you enter the gym. Why you thought becoming a manager was a good idea is beyond you. You thought of quitting numerous of times but then there was this small voice in the back of your mind telling you to just ‘suck it up and enjoy it while you can’ (with the addition of ‘it’s the last year with your friends before you part ways’ that has been bothering you for some months now). You were holding on because you didn’t want to let go of them completely, not yet. It might’ve been only 3 years since you’ve gotten to know them, but the way they’ve grown on you is just baffling. Baffling, yet plausible. 

You set your mouth in a straight line and nod regardless. 

Oikawa’s teasing smile disappears from his face, “Did I say—”

You sharply inhale and shake your head. “It’s all good. If you need anything, just call me or something.” Oikawa catches your wrist before you can go any further and looks you deadly in the eyes. You hate this look so much because it’s a way of getting information out of you (in your case, it’s your love life that they love to interfere in for no apparent reason). “Is this about Iwa-chan again?” 

As if on cue, Matsukawa and Hanamaki appear by each of Oikawa’s side and look at you expectantly. Cool, what are you supposed to do now? Lie? “Of course not. I just really had a shitty morning. You even said it first.”

“Okay,” Oikawa hums. You notice how both Matsukawa and Hanamaki are staying eerily quiet. “And you were avoiding him for what reason, then?”

Of course you weren’t going to lie?! Because they would have called your bullshit out anyway. “I wasn’t avoiding him…” Oikawa sends you a glare and you subconsciously wince. 

“I just needed some time figuring stuff out, I think.”

Matsukawa puts a hand on your shoulder, “L/N, how long have you liked this guy?”

“Imagine liking Iwaizumi,” Hanamaki butts in. Oikawa fist bumps him and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Are those really the ones you’ll be spilling your guts to regarding your love life? Crazy shit. 

“Uh, um, since first year, I believe?” You might’ve told them that you had a crush on Iwaizumi but you never specified since when and how big of a crush it was. 

When those words rolled off your tongue, you knew that it barely was a crush anymore.

And it seems like the guys knew it, too - you could tell especially by their widened eyes. You check the time on your left wrist and leave no room for any of them to comment anything by yelling, “Practice starts in 10!” And so, you shake off the grasp Oikawa had on your wrist and get into the ‘indifferent L/N’ mode. 

You notice Iwaizumi making his way into the gym, changed into his sports clothes and you can’t help but feel the fluttering slowly increase in your stomach. Why is it so intense today? You accidentally lock eyes with him and you turn your gaze away so fast you would have snapped your neck.

---

Practice felt insufferably long. You noticed the team’s improvement as a whole, except —as much as you don’t like to admit it— Iwaizumi who seemed a little bit more aloof than usual. His spikes, though, were as powerful as ever, you noted. As you shouldered all the necessary bags and helped the team with cleaning the equipment, Iwaizumi tapped on your shoulder, sweat trickling down his temples. His cheeks were reddened from all the jumps and spikes. “Can we talk later? I’ll… wait for you.” You widened your eyes. Your mind was screaming at you to say No, or even some type of excuse - as long as you didn’t have to face him. Much to your dismay, “Yes,” was what you let out while walking forward to the exit to the secretary. You couldn’t afford looking at him directly, who knows what would happen then, had you had stolen a glance.

On your way back to the gym to retrieve your belongings, you met Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki by the exit. You sent them a glare and went past them. “You shouldn’t waste your time. Do it while you still can.” Oikawa said as he left. Matsukawa and Hanamaki sent you a sympathetic smile before following right after him. “You’re not waiting for Iwaizumi?”

“He said he was gonna talk to you!” The thought of strangling Oikawa felt just right at the moment.

So, this is it. 

Iwaizumi is looking anywhere but at you. Honestly said, if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve deemed him as the silent and shy type of guy who would shut his mouth rather than voice his own opinions. But, you do know him better and you know that’s exactly what he’s not and, you can’t help but feel envious at the thought - he was never the type to not call out any of you guys’ bullshit. 

So, it doesn’t surprise you when you hear him say, “L/N,” you sharply inhale. “Is there something wrong? Or, like, did I do something wrong?”

You draw your bottom lip between your teeth. You want to blame all the feelings on him; it’s his fault for being the way he is, his fault for acting the way he does, his fault for making you fall head over heels for him - a fact you never dared voicing out until recently. Ultimately, you shake your head and say, “What makes you say that?” 

Mental facepalm.

Iwaizumi laughs, you can’t really tell if he meant it or if it was done out of a sarcastic manner, “Hm, aside from avoiding me all the classes and glaring at the back of my head all day, I don’t think anything in particular happened.”

You let a small smile overtake your features. “Oh, well, I did have a shitty morning. But at the same time I don’t want to blame it all on it and I’m sorry it came out the way you perceived it, and-”

Iwaizumi catches you by your shoulders and looks you so tenderly in the eyes you feel like melting from it. You look away as he says, “L/N, you’re ranting.”

You steal a glance at him and notice how his hair is messy from practice and how his cheeks are still pink-dusted. You slowly feel the redness wash over your own cheeks and you ignore the warmth that leaves you when you push Iwaizumi away. “You dumbass, you didn’t do anything wrong, so it’s all good.”

Iwaizumi tilts his head to the side. You sure? You nod and make your way towards the school gates. “Iwaizumi,” you call out, “I glare at you every single day. I’m baffled you realized now!” He catches up to you and ruffles your hair.

“Oh, you’ll be regretting those words.” He slings an arm over your shoulder as you two walk the same path home. Your heart beats a little louder and you internally berate yourself for that. You keep reminding yourself that the boundary between you two must be visible. And even if you crossed a millimeter, you’d be sure to compensate for it - whether that took lunch break spent under the bleachers, or missed practice because you ‘felt sick’ that day.

You were a coward. You were such a coward.

---

Three months later, you’re found in the library with Matsukawa. He needed help with explaining some school stuff you understood and thus, how your study date was born. You prop your chin in the palm of your left hand, the other hand twirling with a pen you found in your pencil case. You look into the distance and your gaze lands on the huge bookshelves, and you wonder if you could find an interesting book to read.

“- do I use a comma here or not?” Matsukawa asks. You hurriedly turn to him, your face softening as you ask him to reiterate the question. You knew it was probably a bad idea to stay after school and help your friend - since you’ve been unfocused and grumpy the whole school day; this session would only add more fuel to the fire. But, then you thought back to all the times when he helped you and you felt bad for not doing anything in return. 

“Uh, let me see,” you say as you grab his textbook to go over the sentence he was struggling with. Matsukawa immediately retrieves the textbook from your hands and, with a puff, closes it. Not so softly.

“L/N,” Matsukawa sighs, you notice how his hands are folded atop the textbook. “Just why are you doing this to yourself?” His voice is soft despite what he’s said. “Mattsun, we’re not here for—”

Under the intense stare he gives you, you recoil and say, “I mean, he’s going out with someone already, no? Why would I ruin that now?”

Matsukawa massages his temples and looks you dead in the eyes, his hands clasping over yours. “L/N, you’re being ridiculous now. Just look at how miserable you are!” He fixes his gaze elsewhere, the grip he has on your hands tighten a bit and you sigh in relief. He’s telling you he’s here for you. “It hurts seeing you like this, you know? The guys might not show it but, they’re hurting as much as you are. But you know it’s not our thing to say nor even our business to interfere in.”

You grin, “Fancy of you saying this while interfering in my nonexistent love life.”

Matsukawa snickers and lets go of your hand. “It’s not that nonexistent.”

You’ve always known that out of all the guys, you were a tad closer to Matsukawa. How it came to that point, you don’t really know but even without having to say it out loud, you both knew you could trust each other. You give him a smile and a reassuring nod. You’re here for him, too.

Later that night, you receive a message from Iwaizumi. The temptation to ignore it was so strong yet, somehow, you find yourself clicking on his contact and read over the message. 

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> L/N! emergency! what do I wear on a formal date, the first or the second one? respond asap pls

You regret… You regret clicking on the message because it hurts - knowing there’s someone who can potentially make him happy, someone that Iwaizumi will come home to, someone that can be his forever. Above all, though, what hurts the most is that you brought all this pain upon yourself.

You look at the attached pictures: in the first one, Iwaizumi’s wearing a basic black suit, with a white dress shirt underneath the blazer and dark pants that reach above his ankles. The second is more ‘daring’ - he’s sporting a blue jean jacket with a hoodie beneath it and black jeans. You snicker at it, is this really what he considers wearing to the aforementioned formal date?

To: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

< iwaaaaa ur not serious about the second one r u?

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> Lmao who do you take me for? Ofc not!

 To: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

<  what was the reason then ?!?!!

 From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> Bored and wanted to talk to you.

Before you could respond, though, another notification pops up on your phone, signaling someone’s messaged you, or more like, the group chat.

From: Oikawa [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> lmaoooo yall heard? iwa-channn is going to a wedding. now place ur bets on how long it will take him to fuck sumn up

 From: Makki [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> five dollars for less than an hour

 From: Mattsun [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> Stfu (read: 5 bucks for less than two hours we gotta have faith in him cmon)

 From: Iwaizumi [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> Just why.

Oh, this is the formal date? They must’ve gotten real close if Iwaizumi will be his date’s date.

You click on the chat with Iwaizumi.

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> And the guys, I guess.

Another message incoming.

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> Lol, don’t you just love jinxing yourself?

You send him laughing emojis. You two end up texting for some more minutes before that turns into a call and just hearing him talk about something that makes him happy is enough for you. You notice that whenever it comes to Iwaizumi, everything suddenly seems sufficient. 

You both end up talking about miscellaneous things - one of them being his date. He tells you about how he met her (through Oikawa as the date attends the same class) and what exactly led to the point where they were now. You knew he was seeing someone but hearing it directly from him made you want to rip your hair off and yell slurs at yourself, and cry into your duvets and —

And what? You need to face the reality - you’re too late now.

“L/N?” Iwaizumi asks through the phone, his voice sounding weary and tinny. You rub your eyes and yawn. “Iwaizumi, we should go to sleep. I wouldn’t want to run late to tomorrow’s date!” You try to sound as cheerful as possible. Your voice cracked at the last bit but it seems that Iwaizumi brushed it off as drowsiness. “Right. Well, thanks for talking to me, dumbass.”

“Who are you calling a dumbass? Look at you, thanking your friend for talking to you. That’s ridiculous.” 

“Look at the ungodly time, dumbass.” You do, the clock reads 2:32AM. 

“Shut up, just sleep.” And you hang up. 

You notice another message.

From: Iwa-shit (do not interact)

> I meant it, L/N. Thanks

You smirk.

To: [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

<  five dollars it will take less than thirty minutes

 From: Oikawa [Seijoh’s mightiest third years]

> GASP game on b

A day after the date, you all gather at your and Iwaizumi’s joined desks. “So,” Oikawa starts, scrolling on his phone through the numerous posts. “Little birdie posted something and tagged Iwa-chan in it! Let’s see!”

Oikawa places the phone in the middle for everyone to see and clicks on her latest post.

The caption reads: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it took him 28 minutes to bang his head into the stand!’  Oikawa scrolls through the pictures where the said stand was not as straight as it should be. More pictures show him standing next to his date, his smile vibrant and eyes twinkling with happiness. You notice how Iwaizumi’s smile grows bigger each time Oikawa swipes to the left. It is a sequence where he and his date look at each other with so much adoration you have to bite the inside of your cheek to not break down right then and there.

“I can’t believe you dragged my girlfriend into this.” Oikawa visibly gasps, quickly stealing a glance at you and you dare say you caught the slight look of pity in the pools of his eyes. You look away. Even Hanamaki —who enjoys teasing the hell out of you— sends you a look of indescribable mix of emotions and you just brush it off by rolling your eyes at him. You can’t lie that the tears pricking your eyes aren’t present because oh, well, they are. 

“Congratulations!” You find yourself saying a tad louder than you intended to. The three of them look at you with widened eyes, quizzical looks on their faces. You lock eyes with Matsukawa and you nod, silently telling him that you know, you know, you know. 

The ambience in the classroom gets a little bit more suffocating. “If you’ll excuse me,” you say as you make your way towards the restrooms. Why can’t you just be happy for him? Why do you hold on to something so… trivial? Do you want to lose what you already have? You repeatedly splash water over your face. 

I’m a mess, you whisper to yourself as you notice the puffy red eyes and run your hands along your cheekbones. You’re ready to curse the universe for treating you like shit because as much as you are aware of the situation, you don’t deserve to feel this way.

However, despite all of this, you know that in the end, you have no one but yourself to blame.

---

Seconds, hours, days, weeks go by and graduation seems closer than ever. Naturally, all of you have become more busy with preparing for the exams. As much as you hate to admit it, you miss them. 

It felt good the first few days; you had them off your back and you didn’t have to deal with their bullshit you’ve grown accustomed to (for some reason, and very much to your dismay). But recently, you’ve been feeling empty and you haven’t been talking that much - though, not that you minded. Typically, you four would spend the sunny afternoons in your backyard, black-tinted sunglasses protecting your eyes from the scorching hot sun. You would stuff yourselves with too much ice cream, jelly sticks of all flavors and too many yogurt drinks that had no right tasting so good. 

Once inside the house, Oikawa would lie on the table, fanning himself with the poor excuse of a textbook, Hanamaki and Matsukawa would solve like one and a half math problems and then rest on the table, too, cheeks pressed against the cold surface. Iwaizumi would prepare snacks and you’d help him with that. 

You’d notice the way he talks so mindlessly when it came to the things he liked: it being volleyball or Agedashi Tofu. You’d play some music in the background as the two of you would work on preparing the snacks. You’d feel just how dangerously close you two are when he leans over your body to retrieve a cup from the shelf. You’d be hyper aware of everything and that was one of the things you loved and hated simultaneously.

So it was quite a surprise to get a call in the middle of your study session. 

You slide to the right with your thumb, accepting the call. “L/N! My favourite person!”

“Cut the bullshit, Oinks. You need something?” You press the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you decide to cut up some fruit. “Actually, I don’t need anything.” You frown, then why did he call you? To waste your precious time? “I just wanted to let you know that the guys will be picking you up in,” a momentary pause, “like five minutes because we’ve missed you and you deserve a break from studying.”

You nearly yell at him but instead, you say, “I hate you.”

“Aw, I can feel the love!” You roll your eyes. Then comes silence. The sweet, bitter, hung-up-in-the-air silence that circles around you in vexing motions, driving you crazy.

“Look, about Iwaizumi’s relationship-”

You gasp, “Iwaizumi.” You mockingly repeat. Oikawa sighs on the other line. Right, no time for jokes. “L/N, his girlfriend makes him really happy. I honestly don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you don’t know either, “but I know you’re a good person and you wouldn’t want to ruin that. And, I know you hate people who pity you but I still feel the need to apologize-”

“You’re so embarrassing, I can’t believe you. Why should you apologize for something that was not even your fault?”

“Hm, kinda like a best friend’s duty, I dare say.” You laugh - this one’s legitimately genuine. “You can be, uh, bearable sometimes.” Oikawa guffaws so loudly you have to put your phone away from you to not get an ear-rape. “I’ll use that against you, ugly.”

“Just say you love me and go,” You jokingly say, not expecting the latter to say the words. 

“Now, say it back,” he whines. All you let out, though, is an incomprehensible screech and a ‘See you there!’, and end the call. 

Subconsciously, you might just have said them.

The doorbell resounds throughout the whole house and you run to the front door, peeping through the hole to see who decided to pay you a visit. You see Hanamaki and Matsukawa waving at you.  

You open the door, the wind sending a refreshing swoosh to your hair and you smile upon seeing the two boys before you. “You look kinda scary when you smile,” Matsukawa says as you threaten to hit him with your palm outstretched. Hanamaki doesn’t seem unfazed by your antics as he asks,“Oikawa probably called you, no?”  

You nod and get out of the doorway so that they can enter the house. “As usual, make yourself at home and you can steal some cut fruit in the kitchen.” 

Five minutes later, you descend the stairs in your jogging pants and short-sleeved shirt. They didn’t tell you where you were going so you went with something casual yet comfortable.

Putting on your shoes, you lock the front door and catch up to the two that went ahead. You notice how both of them are wearing casual clothes as well - but unlike someone, they had the formality to at least wear jeans. You’re walking by Hanamaki’s left side, flanking him with Matsukawa on the other. “So, where are you two dragging me?”

Hanamaki turns to you and with a saccharinely sweet smile and elbows you lightly in the ribs. “It’s a secret~” You return the gesture with a little more strength than you wanted - hence, Hanamaki unintentionally pushing into Matsukawa’s side, nearly flying him into the fence of someone’s house if he hadn’t braced himself for the impact. 

“Wow, L/N, if you’re mad, just tell us, damn,” Hanamaki rubs his ribs, dramatically hissing in pain. You roll your eyes but apologize regardless. “You good, Mattsun?” He nods at your question and you send him a contrite look of sorts. 

“Is it just me or have you gotten a bit more aggressive?” Hanamaki nudges into your shoulder and you send him a questioning look - brows furrowed and a bottom lip tucked between your teeth. “Huh?”

Hanamaki sighs, “I don’t know, ever since Iwaizumi announced his relationship or whatever, you’ve been tense around him… avoiding him, too.Us, too… kinda.”

You look into the distance, noticing a building that you know all too well, “You know, Makki, you seem to notice a lot of things despite your unattentive nature.”

“I am,” Hanamaki inhales theatrically, “offended.”

 “As you should be, honestly.” Matsukawa elbows him in the ribs. Hanamaki turns to him, “Just because L/N hurt my ribs from the left side doesn’t mean the right side needs to be damaged, too!”

“You spend too much time with Oikawa,” You tsk, letting out an airy laugh. 

“Don’t tell me we’re gonna have to sit through Oikawa’s karaoke session again,” You slap your forehead. You knew that the two boys you are currently with didn’t propose this idea - if anything, they must’ve been forced into this… as would be you and Iwaizumi. Of course. It’s a tradition after all.

“Yep,” Matsukawa shrugs. “But look on the bright side, you can yell whatever to appease your anger you’ve been bottling up.” You glare at him and he raises both of his hands up in mock-surrender.

Hanamaki catches your wrist and motions Matsukawa to enter the building first. He complies. “Listen, we just want the squad back on its good terms, so we’ll hope you’ll talk it out today.” You slowly nod, ready to take off to the building behind Matsukawa. “One more thing,” Hanamaki loosens the grip on your wrist. “Remember that Iwaizumi was a friend first before he was your first love.”

You stiffen. Were those the words you’d always needed to hear but they’d never occurred to you? Iwaizumi was a friend first before he was your first love. 

Something clicks. 

How could you have been so selfish; wallow in your self-pity, run in circles because all you could do was to remind yourself that this was your fault, your reality now? How could you have been so reckless, risking years of friendship on the line?

“You coming?” Hanamaki yells, palms cupped around his mouth. You nod, slowly reaching the building. 

---

Five karaoke sessions (and a very enthusiastic Oikawa-singing) later, you plump down on the couch, wiping the perspiration off your forehead. It’s tiring - watching Oikawa giving his all to convey the right feelings into the song. You must admit, he sure is passionate; it’s almost as if you were watching him play volleyball - except with a mic in his hand instead that he wouldn’t throw around… hopefully. 

As the song nears its end, you all let out a breath of relief, a mix of annoyance, boredom, and tiredness hanging in the stuffy air. You let yourself sink further into the sofa, hoping it could swallow you whole and erase your existence. 

Okay, maybe you should tone down being so pessimistic.

“How was I?” Oikawa asks, eyes sparkling. His hair is unkempt from all the unnecessary movements he made during the climax of the song and his cheeks are painted a rosy hue - you note even with the flashing lights casting every color across his face. 

You smirk, “Not bad.” 

Oikawa frowns at your response, tightening his grip on the mic. “What do you mean ‘not bad’? After everything I’ve done for you? I see how it is, you’re gonna hear me sing again—”

You steal a glance at Iwaizumi. You notice how he’s staring at the door, probably wishing he were anywhere else but here. Hanamaki comes into your line of sight and you motion him to do anything to catch Iwaizumi’s attention, thus Hanamaki getting buried alive as he slaps the back of Iwaizumi’s head. He glowers at Hanamaki, already rolling up his sleeves.

Hanamaki points in your direction and you catch Iwaizumi’s green eyes that glisten a little bit brighter in the excessively flashing-lit room. With your thumb, you point to the exit and he nods, a look of relief washes over his features.

Once outside the suffocating room, you inhale the fresh air. Summer is just around the corner and even though it was your favourite season, you can’t help but indulge yourself in the chilliness before it changes its course for the next three months.

“Uh, good day, yeah?” Iwaizumi shoves his hands into his jeans’ front pockets, admiring the gravelly ground. He’s put some distance between you two.

“Sure, if being forced into this activity with Oikawa is a good thing.” 

Iwaizumi chuckles, “It’s our thing, L/N, and you know it.” You nod and purse your lips in a straight line because well, he made it awkward for no reason. Or was it you for saying something so obvious?

“How are the exam preparations coming along? Dream college or something like that?” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking past Iwaizumi’s shoulder at passersby.

“Could be better but so far no mental breakdowns.” You can hear the sarcasm laced in his voice as he speaks. “Was thinking about sports science ‘cause you know, it hurts me to watch athletes injure themselves.”

“Hajime, you’re a good person.” The words tumble out of your lips before you can stop yourself; it felt too unnatural to not say it. Iwaizumi barks a laugh. “You, too, F/N.”

You grin, “Obviously.” If you truly meant it or not, you didn’t know.

Comfortable ambience surrounds you both as you let the wind carry out the unsaid words. 

You were never a person of many words - you’ve alway been a little too blunt, a little too hotheaded, a little too selfish. Although in most of the cases you were not aware, it was about damn time you got your head out of your ass and looked around yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, hoping it would cover all the damage you caused (and fully knowing that would not be the case).

Iwaizumi looks up, eyes searching yours. He quirks his eyebrow in a silent question. 

You reconsider your words. “I’m sorry for not spending that much time with you. I know we’re not bound to each other or anything but I just felt like… maybe it was better for the both of us? I mean, we’re graduating in less than two months and … yeah.”

“Oh, so that’s why. I thought you were avoiding me,” he scratches the back of his neck, tilting his head. “You also haven’t been showing up to practice anymore so I thought…”

Right. Of course.

“Well, I managed to lure this first year into taking over my duties for the time being that I figure my shit out, you know?” 

Iwaizumi mock-gasps you. “You’re so irresponsible.” You roll your eyes as some sort of retort.

“Come here.”

You look up in horror; his arms are outstretched and there’s an evil smile strewn across his face. “What do you want to do, Iwaizumi.”

“Dumbass, just give me a hug,” he says as he steps forward and catches you off-guard by encircling his muscular arms around your shoulders, squashing your face in the crook of his neck. He pats your back in a steady rhythm, your arms unmoving by your sides. “Come to practice and let that first-year breathe, will you?”

You let a small smile snake its way onto your face. “After all, this is what you say?”

“Priorities,” he hums, holding you still in his embrace. You groan in pseudo-annoyance as you lightly punch his stomach to get him away from you, only to no avail. “Cute of you to even try, now hug your friend back or I’m not letting you go.”

You sigh, “Everyone sounds like Oikawa, just how much extra time have you all been spending together?”

“Maybe if you had tagged along, you would have sounded just like us, too.”

“Is that really a win?” You say as your arms weakly encircle his waist, ghosting over it. “Now, let me go, you sap.” 

Iwaizumi infinitesimally tightens his grip around your shoulders. “I would never.”

You flutter your eyes close against his shirt, your forehead pressed against his shoulder. You notice it was quite similar to something you had with Matsukawa - some kind of reassurance that they were here for you no matter what. Whether Iwaizumi meant it in that sense or not, you let yourself drop your build-up guard as you snuggle deeper into the comfort of his embrace and mutter a ‘thank you’ you hope he caught.

---

“Hajime!” You look up, your hand with the pen halting on the clipboard sitting on your forearm. 

The person in question runs up to the girl and hooks her hands around his neck as he twirls her around in front of his teammates that look surprisingly apathetic.

“She keeps coming to his practice, why does he act like it’s always the first time?” You hear Kunimi mutter by your right and you send him an eyebrow raise to which he responds with a scowl. You wince. Kids these days.

Kindaichi bows and apologizes on Kunimi’s behalf. You wave him off with a half-smile and ruffle his hair, saying how great his blocks were. 

“I will do my best!” He says as he dashes off onto the court, meeting up with the rest of the teammates. You catch Oikawa’s concentrated face as he gives the second years some advice on spiking. You smile fondly to yourself; there truly was not a better captain; leader. 

“L/N-san,” the first-year tugs at your jacket, you nod in acknowledgment, prodding her on. “I’ll have to go now, so if you'll excuse me.”

“Of course! Thank you so much for helping me! Have a great day!” The first-year bows and leaves the gym with a wave. You reciprocate it with an added smile.

The girl from earlier approaches you in light-weight steps, her uniform neatly ironed, you noted. She has her hair in a high ponytail and you notice how stunning she is. “These guys can be really mean on the court, no?”

It takes you embarrassingly long enough to understand that she’s talking to you. “Oh… uh, yeah. They can get aggressive.”

“How long have you been a manager?” She suddenly asks, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Ever since I became a first-year, so three years now.” You answer, noticing how she’s clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “I can’t even imagine how bad must it be for your mental health to deal with these brats.”

Oh. “Hm, if you’re used to hearing their bullshit everyday, I’m sure you’d be just fine.” She laughs genuinely. You subconsciously tighten your hold on the clipboard. 

“Maybe,” she mutters, her gaze landing on Iwaizumi who spikes the ball set to him specifically by Oikawa onto the opponent’s court, adding a point to his team. 

“Honestly I admire you for that.” You stay still because… what else is there to do? “As much as I’ve always wanted to be one, I don’t think I’d be good at it, and it’s too late for me, anyway.” She dry-laughs, the sadness clearly woven into her voice. 

“I can show you some things if you want. It’s mostly paperwork but there’s also—” (the habit of talking before thinking was getting out of hands now)

She eagerly nods as you hand her your clipboard you’ve been writing into the whole time. The coach sends you a questioning look but you wave him off, mouthing ‘okay’, ‘no problem’ and everything in between.

As you two work in silence - you showing her the basics and the fundamentals, and her nodding everything off and asking questions (which reminds you of the first-year that you were lucky to find because, let’s be real, who would be so excited over taking the responsibilities?), you both don’t notice Iwaizumi watching you two interact, thinking how two of his favorite people are conversing.

And that’s how he gets zonked. In the head. By Oikawa. 

Before you could run off to check up on Iwaizumi, she catches your wrist. “He’ll be okay in no time.”

You let your jaw drop. “W-what…”

“Just look at him, this happens all the time, don’t worry.”

“But it’s my responsibility—”

“Look out, L/N!!!” You turn towards the voice, for the first time in your life catching the ball... with your face. And as you hit the ground, blackness is the only thing that surrounds you.

Your head is spinning, the pain pounding against your skull. You’re lying on a bed, the headrest slightly raised. You bring a hand up to your face, feeling just how much it is swollen beneath your fingertips. “You’ll be okay,” the nurse says, cleaning up the supplies. “It’ll take some time healing; you got a pretty severe hit.”

“Yeah,” you let out, defeated. “What about Iwaizumi?” 

“Ah, yeah, he’s just left. He’s okay, if that’s what you’re wondering.” You let out a sigh of relief. Just what the hell happened? You throw a forearm over your forehead and flutter your eyes close, indulging in the way the mattress beneath your body feels nice. Before you know it, you slip into the dreamland.

;

The practices have been less and less rigorous, considering the fact that the third years prioritized their decent marks rather than ‘some hobby’ (“L/N! How could you say that!” Oikawa whined on one fine day, tugging at your sleeve. Iwaizumi sent you a glare that day.). After all, they could’ve retired after losing to Karasuno but Oikawa was rigid, and someone had to lead the team for the little time that they had left.

You also have been seeing Iwaizumi’s girlfriend come to his practices, cheering him on or completely shattering his ego. They fit one another really well; she was there to ground him if he got too aggressive. Their natures seemed to clash in the right way. You swallow the bile rising up your throat.

No.

“L/N!” You turn to the voice, noticing it was her. You wave at her. This has become some kind of routine you both fell into, with the rest of the team as well. “How’s school?” She asks out of the blue and you weigh out the options: to answer or to digress. Why would she start a small talk, considering you two aren’t relatively that close yet? 

You ignore the nonsensical thoughts your mind loves conjuring up.

“Good.”

She nods, averting her gaze as she bits on her bottom lip. You two watch the game before you.

(Eventually, these little small talks turn into full-on hangouts on Fridays with the guys tagging along. And maybe, maybe your assumptions were wrong, after all.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“I can’t believe we’ve made it.” You sniffle into your sleeve as you hold tightly onto the tube with the graduation certificate in it. The school gymnasium is teeming with sweaty bodies of graduates, holding onto their own tubes. Everyone’s chattering so loud it makes your head turn. 

Oikawa nudges your shoulder and with a blinding smile says, “We really did, L/N-san.”

You grin and turn your body to him, catching him off-guard as you hug his middle, fake-sniffling into his uniform. “Don’t pry my hands off, this is my love language.” Oikawa gasps but you can feel him lean into the embrace, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Hey,” you lift your shoulder he’s resting his chin on. He hums in acknowledgement. “You did really well, Oikawa-san. I respect you so much, Oikawa-san. You have worked very hard-”

Oikawa jerks away from your warmth, holding you by your shoulders at an arm’s length. “You mean this, L/N-san?” He challenges you.

You flick his forehead. “Obviously not. Except the last part.”

Oikawa gets into a ranting mode as you look around the gymnasium, spotting numerous familiar faces. You send them a smile and a wave. On the other side of the gym, you spot Iwaizumi with his girlfriend by his side. Their arms are locked as they converse with Matsukawa and Hanamaki. 

You notice the way Iwaizumi snakes an arm around her waist, probably trying to keep her as close as possible. Ah yeah, of course. Iwaizumi has always been a little too overprotective when it came to the people he cared for. You smile upon the fact; he was a bit too good for this world, although it might not seem so to strangers. But that was the beauty of it all, how only you — among the others he cared for—  could see his true colors.

“L/N?” You look up. “Are you sure you’re fine? I mean it makes me really sad just seeing you so… sullen.” The tears are pricking your eyes. Why is Oikawa being like this?

“Tooru, I hate you so much.” You grab onto his jacket as he instinctually grabs a hold of your shoulders, slamming you against his chest. “Why are you like this.”

He tsks, “No, why are you like this?”

You let yourself indulge in the warmth and comfort of his embrace, tuning the world out for a second. “Thank you for the years. I mean it.” 

“Now, now, why are you such a sap? Look,” he points behind you, “Mattsun and Makki are here!”

You scramble away from his hold, patting at your uniform as you pretend everything prior to this was just a hallucination, an illusion. “You two, can you believe this? L/N is so emotional it makes me cry, too.”

You grumble in embarrassment. “Let me be. I do have the right to be emotional. How are you not crying? You won’t get to see me anymore.”

Hanamaki joins the conversation. “I think that’s why none of us are crying.” Oikawa barks a laugh as he steadies himself on Hanamaki’s shoulder. You turn to Matsukawa, expecting some sort of back-up. “I mean, he didn’t lie…”

You pout. “Betrayal.”

“I knew you always had a favorite!” Hanamaki exclaims with his arms crossed over his chest. Oikawa stops laughing, already rolling his sleeves up, albeit unsuccessfully. “Unbelievable. I thought we didn’t play favorites?”

“We don’t!” You exclaim with as much rage. 

Matsukawa steps into your personal space as he engulfs you in a bear hug, carding his fingers through your hair. “What are you doing?”

“You don’t have to lie to them,” Matsukawa says as he too-sweetly smiles at the remaining boys. 

“Scandalous,” Oikawa says, hands already clenched in fists by his side. Hanamaki catches him by his middle. “Losers.” 

You snake your hands into the inside of Matsukawa’s jacket and tickle him. “Ow,” He jerks away from you and sends you a glare. You only smile in return. 

“You know,” Hanamaki starts, “you have never given me a hug.”

You widen your eyes because first of all, he’s absolutely right and second of all, why did he have the need to say it out loud and so… straightforwardly? Does he have no shame? You also hate the fact that your brain tends to short-circuit every time someone’s being too explicit and your body reacts a tad faster before you can realize it - naturally, your cheeks redden and you bring the tube to your cheeks to soothe the redness that is not going away. “Takahiro, shut!”

He shrugs. “For real, Oikawa hugs you like, all the time. Matsukawa does, too, which is surprising,” Matsukawa yells ‘Hey, I can be nice!’ , “and god, don’t get me started on Iwaizumi.

It’s as if Oikawa was made for this. His ears perk up at the mention of his childhood friend as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “What?” You roll your eyes, wishing for some silence, freedom, ‘get me out of here’s.

“You were saying, huh?” Oikawa leans into Hanamaki, their shoulders bumping. “Get off me, you creep.” 

Oikawa has this whole ‘lost-puppy-in-the-streets’ look going on and you almost give in to the temptation to comfort him. But bruh, nah, he’s a big boy. “Anyway back to our Iwaizumi!

“We all know he’s not affectionate, right, he’d punch us in the guts and say something like, I don’t hate y’all. But!” You flinch upon the raised voice. “When it comes to our not-that best and not-that impressive and stupid and dumb—” 

“We get it!” You say, looking awfully bothered by it (not that it actually bothered you, haha, nope).

“He’s kinda soft. It’s totally different with his girlfriend but yeah.” 

The rest of you eye each other. This was so not happening. “Did you just analyze this whole meaningless shit,” Matsukawa deadpans. 

“Had to justify my lack of L/N Hugs.”

You slap your forehead. “Hanamaki, what the fuck even--” In that exact moment, you’re thrown in Hanamaki’s way, his arms instinctually wrapping themselves around your shoulders as you try stopping the momentum that could possibly make you both fall onto the hard, stepped-on by not-clean shoes and totally not-dusty ground. 

“Is this a new way of hugging or something?” A voice asks from behind you and Hanamaki in each other’s awkward embrace. There stands Iwaizumi with his girlfriend by his side, an�� ever-so-wide smile strewn across their faces. “At least I got my hug.” Hanamaki unwraps his arms around you, completely disregarding you as he drops you to the ground. 

“I feel so used.” You wipe at your metaphorical tear in the corner of your eye. As you’re about to hoist yourself up, a hand appears before you. 

Without any second thoughts, you take it and with the person’s help, you lift yourself up from the ground. “Thanks, ‘Zumi.”

“Hm, you never gave me a nickname.” It sounds like he’s pondering over the words except he just accidentally said them out loud. You notice your friend group a feet away, chattering animatedly with other classmates, Iwaizumi’s girlfriend somewhere in the far corner chatting with her girl friends. Great, you two, just what you wanted. 

You swear to god that you caught the three close friends of yours sending you unsubtle glances, making gestures, clowning, whatever. You shake your head.

“Something on your mind, L/N?” You divert your gaze to the ground. After all this time, why does your heart skip a beat faster whenever you’re the only ones around? 

“I,” you start, fiddling with your fingers, the tube safely tucked under your arm. “I never got the chance to properly thank you for the years.”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow. A second, two, three pass by. He’s waiting. “Uh,” you straighten your back and hold the tube with both of your hands to stop them from shaking so damn much. At this point they could become engines with which you could drive around the neighborhood. “I told the guys already,” you point at them with your thumb, “so don’t feel special or anything.”

He smiles and that encourages you to keep going. “Well, I don’t think you know but I’m like, the biggest fan of you.” He sends you a knowing look. Oh, so you’re a fan of him?

“Of you all. And I might not have shown it as much but it’s the truth. I can’t even imagine how hard you all must’ve worked to get where you are. Your strategies, your excellent thinking, your intelligence, your view on things - it’s all so impressive to me and I wanna let you know that whatever you’ll choose in the end, just know this high school time was crucial to your growth.” 

Silence. Did you say something wrong? Maybe it’s taking him some time to absorb, digest the whole word vomit you just let out. What’s filtering anyway.

“L/N, you know,” Iwaizumi averts his eyes to the high ceiling, the sunlight smiling down on you two. “I don’t think you should be saying this to me.”

You shake your head. “I promise I’ve already told him and I’ll let him know later again, but now, this,” you gesture to the air between the two of you, “is about you so stop selling yourself short. I thought you were over this.”

Iwaizumi quirks his lips up in a half-smile, eyes sparkling with an emotion you could actually tell - gratefulness. “See, I didn’t lie when I said you were a good person.” 

You shoot him one of your best smiles, “Could say the same about you, sir.”

“Hey, you two! You going?” Oikawa yells from the other side of the room, pointing at both of you. He’s nearing the exit with the rest of the third years, still facing you. You give him a thumbs up and the last thing you see is the undoubted significant smile that had no ulterior motives. “So, we going?” Iwaizumi points to the exit, the hall slowly but surely emptying each passing minute. 

“You go ahead, I still have something left to do.” Iwaizumi looks suspicious but after relentless bickering, he gave up and said he’d be waiting outside, somewhere near the school, you’ll find him eventually.

As you’re left alone in the emptied gym, you cannot help but think of the times when you first got to know the guys that you now call your best friends. 

Awkward, embarrassed, clueless.

You were reluctant to join, for: firstly, what did you know about volleyball? Secondly, you were really not looking for any friends, so how come it ended up the way you didn’t plan to, yet you were never more grateful? What would’ve happened had you not decided to join the volley club as a manager?

You’d like to believe you were in-one-way-or-another lucky. You never questioned your luck, never questioned your fate. You believed in the universe - although you knew it had a very obvious, blatant dislike to you. Ignoring all of that, you went with the flow.

People come and go. Friends come and go. You are aware.

These lingering feelings? It hurts.

It hurts but that’s only because you were never brave enough to let them out. This was a choice you could’ve chosen. You didn’t have to wait for a miracle to appear in front of you and make you say all the words you’d always felt too scared to say.

Hadn’t it been for Oikawa, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, would you have been able to even fall in love with Iwaizumi in the first place?

Right, you did attend the same class but would the bond have been as strong as it is now?

No matter what, Iwaizumi was a friend first and although it hurts, you need to move on. One way or another.

“C’mon, L/N! We won’t get to any food if we dilly-dally any longer!” Iwaizumi shouts to you from the other side and you bite your lip to prevent the megawatt smile from spreading across your face.

It hurts.

It hurts so much, but the least you can do is to cherish him in the ways you can.

Cherish him as a friend.

[kitkatopinions]

Tbh, in regards to Hazel I'm just upset they axed him so quickly. It's honestly to the point where part of me thinks he's not actually dead and they'll have a "big reveal" later, but you never know with RT. Feels like they could have done a lot more with the character.

Heck, I know this isn't surprising coming from me, but do you know who he could have been a great villain for? Yang. From themes, to character, to even the potential fight, it could have been great. Maybe when I wake up I'll make a whole post about that.

You're right, in his first couple scenes, he seemed like maybe he'd be a refreshing change of pace. Villains that have boundaries and morals are good, villains that seem normal at first glance are also interesting. Hazel didn't seem to fit much with the other villains in Salem's circle and he clearly had something to do with Ozpin, who - when V4 dropped - was one giant mystery.

But he was absolutely wrecked in the Haven fight, and then it just kept going. Like, oh, okay, he doesn't want to avoid violence, he isn't above hurting children, he doesn't have these boundaries, his connection to Ozpin is frankly stupid, none of our heroes but Oz and Oscar even seemed to learn his name, his stupid motivations never got properly addressed as the hypocritical garbage it was, he was tabled for most of V6 and all of V7, and then he returned only to dig even further down into being hypocritical, moral-free garbage... And then he 'turned good' because he saw that the lamp worked, and then he just died. No real exploration of his supposedly important relationship with Emerald, his 'change of heart' was totally unbelievable and the 'life lessons' he left Oz with felt totally pointless and shallow, shoved into the narrative, and just as hypocritical as Hazel has been since the Haven fight, and on top of that... Seriously, do our mains know him as anything other than 'the one guy who kept screaming 'Ozpin' at Haven who electrocuted Nora?

Honestly, I don't even mind some of the ideas of his character. The massive hypocrisy and deluding himself into thinking things that aren't true, is a good villain trait. But because the writers tried to portray him as right without actually... Making him right, the whole thing just turned out incredibly frustrating. Him being calm and softer spoken, but still kind of intimidating, and then switching to blowing up, screaming, and willing to hurt anyone and everyone because he doesn't actually have any emotional control, that's a great villain trait, except that the Haven fight was full on comical, and anything actually scary about that behavior wasn't there. (I can't stop laughing about the scene in the Haven fight, where Hazel starts like, ripping off his jacket, and the whole fight around them stops and Qrow's like o.O like he's just thinking "sir, please keep your clothes on?" The pacing was just so horrible XD)

You're right that he could've been a good villain for Yang, especially V5 Yang who was already questioning some of her stances and beliefs, but also starting to learn how to regulate her temper and be less impulsive. Hazel could represent both of those struggles at once. Honestly, Yang's relationship with Ozpin is something I wish they'd focused on more. And that's true of all the main four, but idk, I think since Yang was the one literally being told by Raven to doubt him, I just think that should've been explored properly (and with less author hatred towards Ozpin.) And Hazel really could have continued on that story. Plus, his 'switch on a dime' massive temper and short sightedness because of it is literally something Yang works in volume five to try and fix in herself. I know we already have a bit of 'this is what I could've been' in Raven, but I feel like the importance in Yang's dynamic with Raven isn't actually about Yang comparing herself to Raven, and is more about Yang realizing she never needed and doesn't want Raven, partially because Yang is different than Raven and values other things. Hazel is a man who turned into a resentful, cruel, violent, anger driven person after the loss of a family member that he loved, specifically a younger sister who wanted to be a hero, and audiences can see clear parallels between who Hazel is and who Yang could be if she lets herself. Hazel lashed out and turned against Oz and humanity itself not out of cowardice or selfishness, which were things Yang (up to V5) didn't really suffer from more than most. Instead, Hazel did so out of grief, anger, reckless abandon, mistrust - which are all themes in Yang's story. It could've been good and meaningful to see Yang confronted with these things more and then rise above them and be better. I mean, I do this quite a lot though lol, where I'm like "they missed an opportunity with Yang and almost any other character." XD But this is mostly because so many villains feel so disconnected from the mains, but Yang was my favorite of the four girls, so I guess I gravitate to her relationships more than most of the mains (though I'll forever be upset that Blake wasn't allowed to sympathize with and be understanding towards Ozpin.)

Hazel is a wasted opportunity, but what we got in canon was so frustrating and badly done.

[yourfinalbow]

Ack anon I'm sorry. Tumblr ate your ask and I'm 🔪 But I saved your ask to put on the Google Doc so don't fret! I have it!

“Hi Ghastie Ghast, I wanted to share a prompt with you lol. I decided to go more holiday theme’d because it’s never too early to get into the holiday spirit.

“Your favorite winter drink was back on the menu, so I decided to surprise you with it.”

Please enjoy this prompt lmao”

The nickname made me -_- but hi Little Gray Circle Dude With Sunglasses! Thank you for sending me this! I had fun writing it. I'm assuming you wanted a Destiel fic, so that's what I wrote! (Also bonus points for Saileen as a background ship?) I sort of strayed a little from the prompt and the tone gets heavier as it goes on… 👀 I also accidentally wrote more than intended, so you can read it on Ao3 if that's easier. (And maybe give it a kudos because you’re the best?)

Title: Black Coffee Derangement Syndrome

Ship(s): Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy.

(Basic) Tags: Fluff, Slight Angst, Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker, Established Dean/Cas, Established Sam/Eileen, Using black coffee as a metaphor for hypermasculinity, With a whip cream style topping of internalized homophobia. *Finger guns.*

Warnings: Coffee gatekeeping and small sections of fluff that are as sweet as Cas’s Starbucks order. Also I’ve been to Starbucks once. Maybe twice? (Also a single mention of a drug that's commonly found as white powder, the non-descriptive comparison of Sam’s stupid health stuff with emesis, and use of the name that the figurehead for Germany in WW2 bore, just to be safe.)

Rating: T? Maybe? For language?

Word Count: 9k+

Quick thanks to my awesome beta @walksinstarllight! They are a poet and a writing sorcerer (wizard without a hat), and the only reason this fic even makes sense so please go shower them in kudos. (You can find their work here.)

Another thanks to @internetintroverts, who described a peppermint mocha to me in like 300 words because I drink black coffee and know nothing of anything ever. You can find their work here! (There's an Easter egg of one of their fics in this one hehe.)

The first thing Dean did when Cas got back from the Empty was give him coffee.

Okay no.

The first thing he did was fall into Cas’s arms and grip that stupid trenchcoat until his knuckles turned white. Shaking and laughing with hot tears streaming out of his eyes, he told him he was an asshole for leaving him like that. And to never, ever do it again. With blurry eyes and all other thoughts hazy, he told Cas he could have it, he could have what he wanted. Whatever he wanted. He told Cas he loved him too.

But then the next thing was coffee.

Caffeine is a hunter’s number one best friend, and since Cas was human again, Dean knew Sam was going to come at him with his stupid green health drinks and herbal tea. As Cas’s knight in shining armour, (a title used by Dean and Dean only), it was his duty to protect him from the disgustingly liquified rabbit food.

Now he expected Cas to like black coffee, you know, like a normal person.

But no, oh no. Apparently, he was dating a heathen.

Dean had to actually rub his eyes the first time he watched Cas fix his own coffee. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mouth agape.

Cas was leaning on the counter, humming some song that Dean could neither recognize, nor would he approve of, thank-you-very-much.

(Ok it was Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift and it's entirely possible he's listened to it once or twice but he still doesn't approve of it, thank-you-very-much.)

He held his yellow and black striped, bee-themed ceramic mug Eileen had bought him in one hand, and the entire five-pound bag of cane sugar in the other. And there he stood, happy as can be, pouring it directly into his mug.

Dean rubbed his eyes again.

And not even like, a normal amount either.

He just kept pouring, and pouring, and Oh my god he’s still pouring. Dean thought. It would honestly be more believable if it wasn’t sugar at all, and instead was in fact Cas’s secret stash of cocaine.

Dean might actually have to put sugar on the grocery list after he was finished.

His thoughts traveled back to Ishim doing the same thing with his coffee, in the tiny little diner Cas had set up as a meeting place. Dean had barged in that day, not thinking of his brother mocking him, or the possibility of danger inside. His vision was as tunneled as his thoughts  focused only on Cas, not caring about anything else.

By that time the following day, Dean thought they were both going to die. The bloody and uneven sigil on the wall, Cas no more than ten feet away. Not quite within a comforting reach. The room was spinning from the blow to his head, and he could barely make out the words being spat from Ishim’s mouth.

“You blast me away, you’ll blast away every angel in the room. I’ll survive. Castiel, on the other hand, he’s hurt. He might live, or he might just end up a bloody smear on the wall.”

He almost lost Cas that day.

The blood rushed to his ears as his instincts sought out the mark on the wall. Ishim had told him to roll the dice, but in his head he couldn’t look past the chance of rolling a one. Watching the acrylic cube bounce until it decided Cas’s fate. There was no dilemma, there wasn’t even a decision to be made. He would always choose Cas over himself. Silent acts of care he could never vocalize.

An inability to speak formed from fear and cowardice. Like a lion in his stomach scratching at the words until they fell back down his throat.

And it was that inability to speak that led Cas to think he was nothing more than a tool for the Winchester’s to use.

He almost let Cas believe he meant nothing to him.

Dean cleared his throat. “Mornin’ Sunshine.”

Cas set down the bag of sugar and picked up the pot, the glass making a small clink as it hit the top of the coffee maker. “Goodmorning Dean. Would you like any coffee?” He greeted cheerfully, turning around like he hadn't just put enough sugar to make a pound cake in his coffee.

“Uh.” Dean was still caught off-guard by Willie Wonka over there. “Sure Cas.” He took the coffee pot from his hand and muttered a thank you.

“So,” Cas started while Dean reached into the cabinet for his own mug. “What ingredient do you suggest I put in my coffee this morning?”

“Uh...I don't know man. I drink my coffee black.”

“Yes I know you’re boring Dean, but you can still help me not be.”

“Black coffee isn't boring it's-”

“Dean, if you say ‘manly,’ I will sit you down and make you eat only spinach and kale for a week.” Sam said, walking into the kitchen, hair still spiked up from sleep. He used one hand to sign the words, his other one occupied by Eileen, who was sleepily shuffling closely behind.

Dean looked aghast. “I would starve.” He attempted to sign his indignant response, hands moving sloppily while holding both his mug and the coffee pot.

“I think that's the point.” Eileen said, laughing. She looked at Cas. “Is Dean gatekeeping your coffee aspirations again?”

“Yes.” He answered, ignoring Sam’s laugh and Dean’s huff of exaggerated outrage.

“Have you tried cinnamon?” Sam suggested. “You like Dean’s apple pie, and that has cinnamon in it.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Sam. Dean told me not to ever take cooking advice from you.“

“And I stand by that.” Dean interjected suddenly.

“I can cook!”

“Ehhh…” Eileen’s comment bought her a look of betrayal. “Though Sam may be right on this one, you might like it.” She shrugged.

“See.”

Cas pondered the thought for a moment. “Perhaps I will then.”

“Do we have nutmeg?” Eileen said, breaking away from Sam’s grip to check one of the cabinets. He walked to the other side of the kitchen, intending to look through the spice rack, knowing exactly what his girlfriend was getting at.

“You better not mess up my damn kitchen.” He said quickly. “Or you're organising them all next time.”

Sam rolled his eyes, knowing full well Dean would never let him organise the kitchen. Eileen looked through them, carefully turning the bottles around until the labels faced her. She pulled out the cinnamon and clove while she was looking for the nutmeg.

“Found it.” Sam called from the other side of the kitchen, walking over and putting a hand on Eileen’s shoulder.

“Thank you.” She said with a smile, grabbing the plastic spice jars.

She individually tossed each one to Cas. “Use these, it will taste like a pumpkin spice latte.”

“And don't forget the milk.” Sam added.

Cas scrambled to catch the spices, successfully grabbing two of them out of the air, the third one intercepted by Dean.

“What’s a pumpkin spice latte?” He looked at Eileen before snatching the bottle of cinnamon from Dean.

“It's a famous drink you can get at Starbucks.” Sam answered.

Cas tilted his head to the side and squinted at him. “What's a Starbucks?”

“You know, the coffee shop Alex and Patience drag Jody to all the time.” Dean said.

“I’m pretty sure Donna drags her there too.” Sam added. “Something about girl’s date night out.”

“The one Claire says is for ‘basic bitches’?” He lifted his hands, forming air quotes as he spoke.

“Yeah.” Dean answered, quietly laughing. “That's the one. She’s probably right, too.”

Cas carefully put the different spices in his coffee, eyeing the mug warily. His light brown coffee now had specs of...stuff in it.

(And unbeknownst to him, there was also a small pile of sugar at the bottom, the coffee so saturated it wouldn't dissolve any more.)

Eileen laughed at the look on his face. “It's good, I promise.”

Sam turned to look at her. “How would you know? Most of the time you get hot chocolate and spike it with bourbon.”

“You’re the one who gets a Pink Drink.”

Dean choked on his coffee. “What?”

“It's strawberry and coconut milk, and it's delicious.”

“Sure it is Sam.” Eileen jabbed.

“So what I'm getting here is that not only have you two been to Starbucks often enough to have a regular order, but Sam gets something called a ‘Pink Drink’?”

“No…” Sam started, trying to find a way to defend them. “Sometimes we…”

“...Make our own drinks.” Eileen snapped her fingers as she finished for him, attempting to save them from the endless stream of good-natured insults Dean would throw at them otherwise.

“Well you two are a real Martha Stewart, aren't you?”

“Yeah, except she's a convicted criminal.” Sam attempted to snark back.

“So are you!”

Before either of them could respond, Cas shoved his mug into Dean's face. “You have to try this, Dean. It tastes like pumpkin pie.”

Dean carefully grabbed the hot mug from Cas and took a sip. He was right, it did taste kinda like pumpkin pie. He took another sip, letting the pleasant flavor sit on his tongue. The different spices mixed perfectly together.

“I mean it's… okay.” He lied.

Dean contemplated his pumpkin themed food options. “Though I would rather just have pumpkin pie.”

Cas took his mug back. “Fine. More for me.” He said with a smirk, mimicking the look Dean gives him every time Cas says he doesn't want anymore bacon, before taking another sip of the makeshift pumpkin spice coffee.

Dean smiled at him, setting his own mug down and moving Cas’s out of the way to pull him into a kiss. He could smell the nutmeg almost as much as he could taste the cinnamon on his lips.

“Mmm we should bake pumpkin pie tonight.” He said, pulling away just enough so he could talk.

“I would like that.” Cas answered. “All four of us could make pie. According to the 'mom blogs', as you call them, it would be a good family bonding exercise.”

“That’s right. And if they want any pie, they gotta help make it. That means more for us if they refuse.” He grinned.

“A win-win situation, really.” Cas smiled before tugging Dean close so their lips met again.

“I love you.” Dean muttered.

“I love you too.” Cas said softly.

Behind their backs Sam and Eileen were fake-gagging at their sickly sweet interaction, but secretly just glad the two of them had finally gotten over their stubborn (and oblivious) selves.

Sam was honestly overjoyed to see his brother finally happy. He would even go as far as saying finally willing to be himself, too. (Not that he would ever say this outloud. Sam can practically see Dean’s eyes roll farther back into his head than should be possible at the words.) All four of them had gone through more shit in the last few months than any normal person would in their entire life. They were all just lucky to be alive, and with that, learning how to savour the little moments of overly sweet normalcy.

(And the pumpkin spice-life Dean had secretly been longing for since they were little kids.)

So of course they were going to help bake pie.

---

“I want to try Starbucks.” Cas said the next morning, both of them still in bed.

Dean groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Can I ask why, or is this one of those, 'I'll tell you later’ disasters like with the slime ingredients?”

“I want to try all the human things that I didn't get to try last time.” He said offhandedly.

Dean pictured Cas’s hurt face when he had told him he couldn’t stay, smile broken as Dean’s own heart shattered from the look the newly-human angel was giving him.

He wanted to tell him it was going to be okay, that Cas himself wasn’t the reason, but the lion in his stomach clawed the words down faster than even the thought of ruining Sam’s chances at survival could.

With a pang of guilt from the memory, Dean pulled himself closer to Cas and rested his head on the other man’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him, trying to preserve as much warmth and comfort as he could until they had to inevitably get out of bed. “Only if you let me sleep like this for thirty more minutes.”

Cas smiled. “Oh, are we making deals now?”

“I’d sell my soul for you.” Dean said cheekily, which earned a glare from Cas. “Believe me, I know.”

After a beat he went on. “Fine, you have a deal.” Before Dean could celebrate by tugging the covers over their bodies, Cas added another clause to their agreement. “But... in true Crowley fashion, you have to seal the deal with a kiss.”

Dean lazily threw his arms into the air. “Victory.”

He turned over, pulling himself upwards until he was just inches from Cas. Cradling the angel-turned-Winchester’s head in his hands, Dean placed his lips on Cas’s, melting into the touch as he felt the other man’s arms wrap around his torso.

When he broke away from the kiss, Dean found himself face to face with the most beautiful smile he had ever laid eyes on, one born from adoration and love. Cas’s eyebrows were slightly scrunched up, but for once it wasn’t a sign of confusion when met with some obscure eighties rock reference. It was a tiny expression of care, and it was one that was truly Cas. Not Jimmy’s, not even one Cas had picked up from him or Sam. It was completely and wholly Cas, and a completely and wholly human thing to do.

He realized Cas had been doing that long before the Empty stole his grace.

Dean smiled back at him, relaxed. Like taking in a deep breath after being under murky water for forty years. He brushed a loose strand of soft, brown hair into its place, before falling back into his spot and closing his eyes. “Crowley would be proud.” He whispered with a soft laugh, smile deepening as Cas joined him.

When their quiet laughter died out, there was a pause, air stagnant and in its own sleepy haze

“Oh and Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean turned his head to look at him, eyes not failing to glow with their unusually bright, green pigment. He took a deep breath, the lids of his eyes already started to slowly fall back down again.

“The slime wasn't a disaster. You enjoyed it.”

“I did.” He muttered sleepily, a loose smile forming on his lips as he drifted off to sleep. Cas laid there, running his fingers through the other man’s hair, contentment and admiration showing itself in every feature on his face.

This was more than he could have ever wanted.

---

“Dean. Dean wake up.” Cas was excitedly whisper-shouting in his ear like a kid on Christmas morning. It was exactly thirty minutes later, (he had counted), and Cas was ready to get moving.

“No.” He answered back, mimicking Cas’s tone.

“But you’re like a cat.” He teased. “You're on me and I can't get up.”

Dean sighed. “I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

“It didn't take much convincing.”

Dean rolled over to give Cas a playful glare, but was met with the saddest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen, completely throwing him off his guard.

“I'm going to kill Sam for teaching you that.”

Cas just continued to give him that look.

“Fine.” Dean relented, sitting up with a yawn and thinking about how he will now never be able to win another argument.

“Get dressed.” Cas said excitedly. “We're going to Starbucks.”

“Hooray.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, but a smile creeped on his lips.

They walked out of their room together, heading towards the bunker’s library. Dean slid in one of the chairs, turning Sam’s still-open laptop around and waking it up.

Cas, meanwhile, turned to a random page of the lore book resting on the table and started reading in an attempt to pass the time.

The sound of Dean typing filled the air. “So, I just looked it up, and do we have to go to Starbucks?”

“Yes.” Cas said simply, not looking up from the book.

Dean groaned. “Cas there isn't one in the county, let alone Lebanon. That's probably why Sam and Eileen make their own.”

“Where's the closest one?” Cas asked, his blinding, blue eyes glaring at the back of Sam’s computer like he was trying to will the coffee shop to be near.

“I thought it was across state lines and in Nebraska at first, but it looks like there's a small one in a town called Washington. It's about 80 miles from here.”

“Let's go!” Cas excitedly straightened his trenchcoat and headed towards the door.

“Or, we could leave Starbucks to the fourteen year old girls.”

Cas turned back around and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure their entire demographic is fourteen year old girls, staff included.”

Alright, smartass. Dean thought, struggling to hide a smile.

Cas walked out the door, expecting Dean to follow.

“It takes an hour to get there, our coffee’s going to be cold by the time we get home, and it's freezing outside.” Dean muttered under his breath, but he grabbed his keys off the table and stood up, willing to follow Cas to the ends of the earth if it meant he would stay with him.

Not that he was going to enjoy this trip. In fact, he was currently doing the opposite of enjoying, and they hadn’t even gotten into the car yet. Starbucks. Starbucks. Really, Cas? Of all the places he wanted to go, it had to be Starbucks. He couldn’t want to explore humanity through Target or something?

Even Claire wouldn’t be caught dead in that place, with all the frou-frou toppings, elaborate drink mixes, and colourful, drizzled syrup. The people who go to Starbucks are the kind of people who like coffee that doesn’t taste like coffee. Teenage girls who might as well just be drinking whip cream, and that was without considering the seasonal drinks they fawn over.

Seasonal drinks that shouldn’t legally be allowed to be referred to as coffee.

Dean couldn’t believe he ever agreed to this, but still, he begrudgingly followed.

---

Using the GPS on Cas’s phone, (Dean said his insane directional skills helped out too), they found the Starbucks relatively easily once they were in the little town.

They parked the Impala, and Dean looked at the modern building. The green lettering contrasted with the tan plaster walls, spelling “Starbucks.”

He heard Cas get out, his feet making a crunching noise as they hit the gravel, and watched from across the top of the car as he started towards the coffee shop. Dean looked at the building warily, reluctance painted on his face.

Cas was telling him some random fact about a bird he saw, but Dean could only think about his reputation that was about to shatter like a vase dropping on tile floor.

Reputation with who? He didn't know.

Well, he had a vague idea, but chose not to let his thoughts wander that far.

It was okay. This was fine. He could swallow his pride and-

“Ooh. The peppermint mocha looks good.” Cas was reading the limited edition drinks on the drive-thru menu as they traveled across the parking lot.

Dean was going to barf.

They walked into the building, immediately hit with the overwhelming smell of excessive amounts of flavoured syrup indoused coffee. Dean glanced around the well-lit building, taking note of the many different people there.

(He wasn’t about to have any black-eyed minions reporting his Starbucks order to a very judgmental Queen of Hell.)

Cas pushed Dean’s protesting body into the line, looking pleased with the many different options written on the menu overhead.

He enjoyed the small touch of Cas’s hands on his back, moving him forwards to the line, but was grateful Cas was careful not to let them linger there too long.

He was still wary about doing… this, in public.

He knew Cas was patiently waiting for him to be ready, so he didn't know how to tell him that he might never be.

The teenager working the cash register interrupted his train of thought. “What will it be for ya?”

“I would like a peppermint mocha please.”

“Alrighty. And you?”

“I'll take just a black coffee.”

The barista looked unimpressed. “And your names?”

Dean grinned. “John and John.”

“No relation.” Cas added.

The barista just sighed. “How do you want me to differentiate the two of ‘em then?”

“Oh you can put ‘John Bonham’ on mine.” Dean replied.

“Comin’ right up.” Their tone didn't change, still just full of apathy that could only be perfected by the work of a burnt-out teenager.

Dean and Cas walked down to the end of the counter and towards the pickup section. “Now tell me, Castiel.” He stressed his partner’s name. “Who’s John Bonham?”

Cas sighed, but the corner of his mouth upturned in a grin. “John Henry Bohnham, affectionately referred to as ‘Bonzo’, born in 1948 and was most well known for being the drummer of the rock band ‘Led Zeppelin’.”

“Mmm very close, but unfortunately you forgot the word ‘best’ in front of ‘rock band.’” Dean smirked before leaning in for a chaste kiss.

“You should have said I was ‘John Bon Jovi.’” Cas said, smiling.

“Why? Because you’re only good at this sometimes?” Dean closed the gap between them.

As soon as their lips met, Dean pulled away instinctively, realization hitting him like a hunter with a bat as his eyes widened in terror. “I-I'm sorry, I didn’t...” His words faltered as he looked around at the people sitting in the coffee shop, all of which were paying no mind to them.

He felt sick, guilt gnawing at him from a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, it's okay Dean. You know I'm perfectly fine with public displays of affection, and no one else even saw us. There's no need to apologize.”

“Yeah-h.” He said shakily. Before he could figure out who he was apologizing to, a voice from behind the counter called.

“I have an order for a mister ‘John’ and ‘John Bonham’.”

“That's us.” Dean spat the words out quickly, turning around to take them from the barista’s hand. He rushed out of the door, the small tinkling sound of the welcome bell and the blood rushing to his ears drowning out the sound of Cas’s call from behind.

He sat in the front seat of Baby, knowing he was being childish. Dean took a shaky breath and tried not to think about it.

About what the hell he was thinking, kissing Cas out in public like that. The judgemental eyes- black or not- that were watching. He thought about what his father would say, mind instantly going back to a moment in his childhood he has tried to forget since it happened, wondering where he went wrong.

About the time John had caught him and Lee, ignoring the weak excuses Dean was stuttering out. Skipping town faster than they had done in years.

About how the left side of his face had been a yellow-ish purple for weeks following, and the sore spot on his arm from where he caught the pavement as he flew towards it.

About how he had told Sam he just fell on a hunt. “Don't worry kid, you should have seen the vamp when I was done with him.” He swung his fist around in slow motion, pretending to punch an invisible enemy as his little brother giggled in childish bliss.

About how John never looked at him the same. The disgust in his eyes, harsh words on his lips.

About how he vowed to never disappoint his father like that again, and their joint hatred for that part of him. Sometimes it felt like the only thing they could agree on.

About how somewhere, somehow, he had decided Cas was different. That he somehow didn’t count, and that losing him hurt so much, was such an egregious pain, he wanted as much of Cas as he was allowed to have. And how that was something insurmountable stronger than the twisted, sick feeling John had placed in his gut.

He remembered something Cas had told him once: “Hatred isn’t a natural trait, Dean, it’s a learned one. A baby isn’t born with the ability to hate, it’s passed on from one broken soul to another. Love, love however. That’s something different altogether.”

Cas’s hand on his shoulder pulled Dean out of his thoughts. “Hey.” He said softly.

“Hey Cas.”

“I love you.” He got in the passenger's seat, taking his coffee from Dean’s still frozen hand.

“I love you too.” He whispered absentmindedly, staring straight ahead and seeing nothing but thoughts from the past. His mind fighting an internal battle, logic telling him that what he had with Cas wasn’t wrong, and even though everything from fate to God had tried to wedge itself between them, it was still the most right thing he had. And he knew that, but his dad’s drunken, booming voice echoed throughout his head, telling him that he was dirty. Telling him the Winchester men had no place for someone like him.

“You better stop that now, boy. Bad things happen to you when you’re weak.”

At the time he had taken that as a warning, rather than a threat. But now Dean wasn’t so sure.

It’s not even that his Dad was particularly religious. He wasn’t told that it was a sin, or that he was going to Hell. Though it’s not like that particular statement would have been wrong. He thought with a bitter laugh.

While the thoughts in his head were screaming mercilessly, the drive home was in a simple silence. The only noise being Cas’s occasional sip, and the sound of soft fabric rubbing against skin as Cas moved his hand in small, comforting motions against Dean's back.

When they got to the bunker, Cas, who was genuinely impressed that Dean managed to drive them home without crashing into a tree, pulled Dean out of the car and gently shook him out of his self-imposed stupor.

“Your coffee's cold.” Cas said with a laugh.

Dean blinked a couple times, clearing the fog from his mind, before laughing along with him. “And who’s fault is that? You were the one who insisted on traveling across the state to get it.”

“Do you want some of mine?” Cas asked. “There's a little bit left, and I held it next to the heater. It should still be lukewarm.”

“No thanks, Cas. I can go make some in the kitchen.”

“But what if I want you to try it?” Dean glared at him. “Don't make me do Sam’s ‘puppy dog eyes’ again.”

“Okay, okay. You win.” He put his hands up, mimicking a surrender. “I'll try some of your stupid, Christmas cookie, candy-cane flavoured coffee thing or whatever.” They started walking towards the entrance to the bunker.

“Peppermint mocha?”

“That's the one.”

Cas laughed at him.

“Oh just, give it here.” Dean said. He took a long sip from the disposable cup. He could taste a vague hint of whipped cream mixed in with the coffee, its light fluffy texture sticking to the last swallow of smooth liquid in the bottom of the cup. The chocolate and espresso rested on his tongue, and the peppermint was strong and refreshing. He took another sip.

“Does that face mean you like it?”

Dean looked at him guiltily. “No.” He opened the bunker’s door and started walking down the metal stairs.

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don't.”

“You took a second sip.”

Dean reached the bottom of the stairs first, and walked over to the War Room table to set both coffee cups and his keys down.

“So? I was trying to make sure I properly understood the flavour. Since when is that a crime?”

“You wanted to properly understand a flavour you didn't like?” Cas walked up to Dean and pulled the nearest chair out to sit down.

“What are you two arguing about this time?” Eileen asked from the library.

Cas clenched both of his hands into fists, putting the right one on top of the other. He made small, circular, stirring motions with his right hand. “Coffee.” He signed swiftly, movements fluid.

“Ah. That makes sense.” She spoke the words.

“What makes sense?” Sam asked, walking in from one of the hallways, making sure Eileen could see his lips before speaking.

“They're arguing over coffee again.”

Sam glanced at both of them, before his eyes reached the two cups on the War Room table.

“Wait a second… Dean?” He looked at his brother, before turning to face his best friend. “Cas?”

“Yes, Sam?” Cas answered.

“Did you two go to Starbucks?”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes, we did!” Cas sounded way too excited to be referring to coffee. “I got a peppermint mocha, and Dean tried some and liked it.”

“I did not.”

“I don't care what coffee you like, Dean. What I do care about is that you went all the way to Starbucks, and didn't bother to ask if we wanted to come.”

“Not cool Dean.” Eileen walked in, shaking her head and hiding a smile.

“I might have thought about buying you two drinks, but there was no way I was ordering yours with a straight face.” He looked at Sam. “And it's an hour away, they wouldn't have been hot or cold or whatever they're supposed to be by the time we got here.”

“Well then we'll just have to go back, all four of us.” Eileen put simply.

“It's an hour away.”

“We know.” Sam added.

“Let me say that again, in case you weren’t listening. It's an hour away. For coffee. That isn't even that good.”

“I beg to differ, Dean.” Cas said.

“Yeah I'm definitely with Cas on this one.” Eileen agreed while Sam nodded along.

“No. There's no way I'm getting back in Baby to drive all the way to Starbucks again.”

“Fine. We’ll go get our own.”

“With what car?” Dean said, very sure of himself.

Sam snatched Baby’s keys off the war room table, which in hindsight was probably something Dean should have expected.

“Let's hope Sam doesn't have too many shots of espresso.” Eileen said, faking concern. “I would hate for your baby to pay the price.”

“Fine. I'll drive you.” Dean grumbled while Eileen double fist-pumped her win.

Cas looked very pleased with the thought of getting to try more coffee.

---

They left shortly after, the drive over painful for everyone except Dean, who listened to the same four songs on repeat the entire hour.

(It’s their own fault, really.)

---

“Can we please listen to something other than Bob Seger on the trip home?” Sam complained as he slammed shut the door to Baby’s backseat.

“You’re just mad you didn’t get shotgun.” Dean said, closing his own door. “Besides, driver picks the music, everyone else shuts their cakehole.” Sam mouthed the words along with Dean, having heard the speech a million times before.

Eileen and Cas got out, neither one of them had any desire to input on their squabble, and were instead engaged in their own, quieter discussion.

Both brothers continued to argue until they walked into the Starbucks.

“Ah. There's the scent of overpriced coffee I missed.” Eileen joked as she took her first breath inside the building, using her hand to waft the smell towards her.

“What are you getting?” Cas asked Sam.

“I want my usual, and Eileen, what are you having?”

“Hot chocolate with espresso shots please. This place doesn't sell liquor.” She shook her head sadly and Sam laughed. “Good thing I brought my own.” She winked at them, opening her jacket just enough so they could see the inside pocket and showing off her flask.

“Oh, now that would be a Starbucks I would go to.” Dean said.

“You two wait in line.” Sam pointed to Cas and Dean. “We’ll save a table.”

Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but they walked away before he had the chance. Cas leaned over towards him. “Don't worry. I'll order Sam’s.” He very conspicuously winked.

Dean smiled at his attempts of regular human interaction, before over-the-top winking himself.

“Can you order for us? I need to talk to Sam about something.”

“Sure thing…” Cas had to think before finishing his sentence. “...buckaroo.”

Dean outwardly cringed. “Keep trying, you'll get there eventually.” He patted Cas on the back, which was slightly moving in a chuckle.

It was good to see Cas filled with so much simple joy. Face creased from laughter rather than stress, he seemed so much lighter. Happier. It was only a small sliver of what he deserved, but it was something. Maybe he could live with driving an hour to get what he assumed was half-decent coffee.

“What would you like?” Cas asked him, eyes still filled with a sparkle that only comes from gaining something you thought you lost.

“Uh.” He thought about it for a moment, almost considering branching out into the unexplored terrain that was the dark green menu with small, white text, before shuddering at the thought.

“I think I'll take that expensive black coffee I didn't get earlier.”

Dean was not going to turn into one of those people, if he had any say about it.

Cas walked into the line, leaving Dean to scan the room, furiously waving Sam over when his eyes found their booth.

“Sam.” He sounded like he was trying to whisper, but his volume raised far higher than that. The patron closest to Dean gave him a look before turning back to their work.

“Sam, come here, it's urgent.” His brother turned to look at him, rolling his eyes before getting out of the booth.

“What do you want?” He said once he reached Dean.

“Sam. Help. What do I do?”

“About what?”

“About what kind of coffee Cas is having.”

“Oh god, Dean let it go. He's not going to only ever drink black coffee. Contrary to popular belief, former angels do actually have souls.”

Dean ignored the implications that he didn't have a soul, too distracted by Cas. “But look.” He motioned his head towards where Cas was standing, next in line to order. “He’s eyeing the weird fruity drinks.”

“Dean. It's Cas. The man’s favorite food is PB&J. What did you expect him to have, taste?”

“Alright that's rich coming from mister Pinkity Drinkity or whatever the fuck.”

“You walked into a Starbucks and ordered black coffee, I don't think I'm the wrong one here.”

“Wait, wait. Shut up. Quiet.” He hit Sam on the shoulder in a childish attempt at getting him to stop talking so he could listen.

“Ow. That hurt.” Sam muttered, before turning to watch Cas, which Dean was already doing.

“I would like to try a…” Cas methodically scanned the menu again. “A ‘Passion Tango Iced Tea,’ please.” The barista took no mind to the excessive air quotes.

“It's not even coffee.” Dean said to Sam, clearly distraught. He turned to look back at Cas.

“And your name sir?”

“Lizzo.”

Dean threw his arms up into the air. “I can't believe this is the man I love.” His voice cracked like he was holding in tears of anguish from listening to Cas order.

Sam just rolled his eyes at the theatrics. Right, and he’s the dramatic one.

“Aw. You're in love.” Sam held his hands up, forming a heart and mocking his brother.

“Oh shut up. What are you, seven?”

“Is Cas your gay thing?”

“You shut your mo-”

“What are we gossiping about?” Eileen whispered, cutting Dean off and causing them both to jump.

“We're not gossiping.” Sam said indignantly.

“Sam started it.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“This is where I call you two ‘asshats’, right?”

“It's ‘assbutt.’” Cas said, walking up to them and catching the tail end of their conversation. “And that's my line.”

Cas handed them each their drinks, before excitedly trying his own. He put the plastic cup up to his mouth, almost missing the straw. When he swallowed the cranberry-colored liquid, his face relaxed in pleasure.

“I know this one isn't coffee, but it's really good.”

“We didn't get coffee either.” Eileen said. “So don't worry, Dean's the odd man out here.”

Dean glared at her before trying his own coffee, and well, it was coffee. The point of buying expensive caffeine still went straight over his head.

The four of them went over to their thankfully-still-available booth and sat down. Dean and Cas sat on one side, both instinctively choosing the side that faced the door, with Sam and Eileen sliding into the seats directly across from them. They sat there, talking about nothing in particular, and certainly nothing of importance, before falling into the natural art of storytelling.

Aside from killing monsters, that’s what hunters did best. Sitting around and sharing stories. As tiring and dangerous as their lives were, some hunts were worth sharing exaggerated and hyperbolic versions of, especially over drinks.

Sam’s favourite story to tell changed every time, and one would almost be inclined to believe that most of it wasn't real, but the wildest parts also caused the most merriment. (Dean pretended he hadn’t witnessed the whole thing, sparing Sam by not telling the other two how it actually went down.)

Eileen shared of her time in Ireland. “Foreign country, foreign monsters.” She said with a wink, telling of creatures neither Sam nor Dean had even read about.

Dean’s favourite story to tell, aside from the fact that he killed Hitler, was the time he got to solve a mystery with everyone’s favorite talking dog. And yeah, all three of the people that sat at the table had heard both many times before, but that didn't matter, it was still enrapturing to hear them again.

Cas had millenniums to choose from, but always found the most interesting hunts to be the ones with the Winchesters. He also had many hilarious stories about his adventures with Crowley, but he was less fond of those.

“I remember once, Dean went on a hunt with Dad.” Sam started. “Nasty vampire, it got a hit or two on Dean. I think you guys went with another hunter. Young. About your age, actually. Uh…”

He snapped his fingers, trying to recall the name. “Lee. That's it.” Dean looked up from the coffee right as Sam said it. “Do you remember him?”

Something flashed in Dean’s eyes, but his brother didn't seem to notice.

Cas, who was used to admiring every minute detail of Dean's expression and posture, didn't miss the ever so slight, yet sharp, inhale. Or the way he swallowed before speaking, trying to clear the small lump from his throat.

Dean noticed too, internally rolling his eyes at his own reaction.

“Yeah it's been a while, but I remember him.” Dean was blatantly ignoring Cas’s burning stare from beside him, and the fact that he had stabbed Lee through the chest just last year.

Cas made sure no one was watching before gently placing a hand on Dean’s thigh. Knowing it would comfort him from both intuition and experience. Dean stiffened under the touch, but after realizing no one could see where Cas’s hand was, he visibly relaxed.

“What happened to him?” Eileen asked innocently.

“Oh uh, a hunt I think. Most of us go that way, I assume he was no different.” Technically Dean dealt the final blow, but it was the entrancing call of the monster, greed, and the life Lee and Dean had both secretly wanted, that caused his former-friend’s downfall in the end.

“Yeah.” Sam said solemnly, suddenly lost in his own thoughts, most of which were riddled with grief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of their many losses wash over them like a tidal wave.

One made of espresso and milk rather than the rough waters of the sea.

---

The ride back was more manageable, Dean allowing them one song choice each, complete with a warning to pick wisely.

(They all very cheekily chose the songs they knew would bother Dean the most.)

---

Full on coffee, cookies Dean bought for them at Starbucks, and brimming with contentment, (as well as the fact that they spent half the day in the car), Cas suggested to Dean that they “hit the hay” as they stepped back into the bunker.

They laid there in silence, breathing in scents of comfort, coffee, and each other, until Cas eventually drifted off to sleep.

Dean, however, continued to lay there. Thinking.

He remembered the first solo case John sent him on.

Something curled inside his gut.

They had been two nuns, their fate a product of hate crime. Put to death for simply being themselves.

Dean didn't blame them for coming back as ghosts.

He remembered the words - ones he would soon learn were slurs - that John would spit out like acid.

Or offhandedly toss like they didn't bear enough weight to shatter the window of a person's self-image.

It had taken him almost forty years to realize that very same window inside of him was in sharp, jagged pieces. Cutting anyone and everyone who came near.

It had taken Cas dying to start picking them up again.

He turned to look at the man next to him, relaxed and blissfully sleeping. His chest moved up and down rhythmically, and Dean slowed his breath to match until he fell into a surprisingly peaceful slumber.

---

When Dean woke up, the other side of his bed was cold.

He didn't panic, knowing full well that Cas probably ran to the bathroom, or was pouring another mountain of sugar in his coffee.

Losing Cas again to the Empty had ripped him apart, but months of spending every night with his partner left him with less nightmares and waking in cold sweats then he had since before Hell.

Dean also learned that his own presence was enough to fight off the demons of solid, black goo that plagued Cas’s head at night.

He was finally starting to understand why life seemed to lose all meaning when Cas was gone, and from there he could slowly start to rebuild both of them.

Dean heard soft padding noises as socked feet walked down the hall, and there was a knock on the bedroom door. "S'your room too, Cas. You don't have to knock." He laughed, words slightly slurred from just waking up

Cas walked in, wielding two mugs of coffee and a proud look shining in his eyes. “I made us coffee.” He said triumphantly, handing one of the mugs to Dean.

“I put chocolate and peppermint in your coffee.”

Dean fake-gasped. “You monster. Ruining the integrity of my drink like that.”

“I'm a human, you ass.” Cas responded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Besides, I know you liked mine yesterday.”

“I did not.” He said, discontentedly crossing his arms. “I only drink coffee that's as black as my soul. Darker than the night sky. Hotter than the bunker’s computer when it overheats. As manly as-”

“Oh, just drink your damn coffee.”

“Fine.” He groused. “But I'm not enjoying it.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him, before setting his mug on the bedside table and sitting down behind Dean. The bed creaked underneath him as he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist. “Is this why you and Sam never use umbrellas?” He joked.

Dean laughed.

Cas rested his head on the crook of Dean’s neck and whispered. “You know you don't have to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” Dean asked softly.

“You know.”

“That I don’t like flavoured coffee?” He said with a snort.

“Sort of.” Cas hugged him tighter. “No one’s going to think any less of you Dean. You’re allowed to like the things you like.”

“I know.” He resigned.

“John isn't here anymore.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.” The words barely came out as a whisper, hot tears betraying Dean’s eyes as they silently leaked out and ran down his cheeks.

He tried to wipe the tears away, hearing his Dad’s voice in his head and knowing he was being stupid.

Dean couldn't help but think of himself as a small, living-room window, from an old, dilapidated house. Stained yellow with age. Cracking from wear.

He let the drumming of his Dad’s words in his head be drowned out by Cas’s voice.

He couldn't unwrap the fuzz from around him, so he didn't know what Cas was saying, ears seemingly filled with cotton. It was just the knowledge alone that he was there. That he was holding him and whispering comforting words into his ear. That even as a human he could heal Dean at his lowest points, and still see him as the brightest, strongest, soul.

You don't really know what a picture is going to be until it's done.

Maybe that window is a beautiful stained-glass portrait.

“Uh.” Dean cleared his throat. “What-what do you have?” He indicated Cas’s coffee by angling his head towards where it sat on the nightstand.

“I made iced coffee.”

Dean just looked at him, astounded, eyes widening. “You mean it’s not hot?”

“Yes, that's where the ‘iced’ in ‘iced coffee’ comes from.” He said very seriously.

They both sat in silence for the next hour, peacefully drinking their coffee and enjoying the presence of one another.

---

When they got out of bed and ventured into the rest of the bunker, they found Sam and Eileen in the library.

They were sitting in adjacent chairs, with Eileen laying her head on Sam’s shoulder and reaching for her water bottle on the table. They were reading a book together, but Eileen shook Sam indicating she had seen them walk in.

“Goodmorning.” She greeted cheerfully.

“Mornin’.” Dean pulled up a chair across from them, and watched as Cas did the same.

“What are you two reading?” Cas asked.

“The Men of Letters’s Bestiary.” Sam said.

Dean snorted. “Ah. Doing a little light reading are we?”

“We're thinking about filling in some of the pages.” Eileen added.

“Yeah, for all of the stuff they have here, it's surprisingly empty.” Sam continued flipping through some of the pages, most of which were blank.

“Heh. I should put you in that thing, Cas.”

Cas let out a laugh. “Right. Because I’m a good example of an angel.” The sarcasm was masking something else in his voice.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve always been my favourite angel.” Dean only realised how sappy he sounded after it came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ve heard the rest of them are dicks.” Eileen added.

Cas smiled at that, seemingly back to normal.

“Right, well you three can do that, I'm off to the Dean Cave.”

“Or…” Sam started.

“We could go back to Starbucks.” Cas finished, nodding his head enthusiastically.

“Yeah... that's not where I was going with that, but I like where your head’s at, Cas. We should definitely go back.”

“Eileen?” He asked.

“Hell yeah.”

“Dean?”

Dean pressed his mouth into a thin line and glared at him. “Yes, sure, fine. But we're not making this a daily thing.”

“That's fair.” Cas agreed. “It's probably not very healthy.”

He went to grab his wallet and keys before Sam could start his speech on the nutritional value of green things, and Eileen snatched her water bottle off the library table as they all got up to leave.

---

Dean gave up on letting them choose the music after snickering and requesting “Friday” by Rebecca Black for the third time in a row.

(It wasn't even Friday?)

---

Dean stepped out and closed Baby’s door in the parking lot of Starbucks an hour later, kicking the loose pieces of gravel on the asphalt for the third time in two days.

“We might as well just live here.” He said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I wouldn't make that offer if I were you, Cas looks like he’d be totally on board.” Sam laughed.

Cas went and stood beside Dean as they started walking towards the building, smiling.

“What?” Dean asked, question genuine and free of all malice.

“Nothing.” Cas answered, smile not faltering.

His eyes revealed nothing but pure devotion for the man he was staring at. A silent promise, one without pressure, that he would be standing there, and Dean could take the leap anytime he wanted.

Dean was slowly inching towards the end of the diving board.

---

“I think I'll just drink my water.”

“Oh that's exciting.” Sam joked. “If I got you a lemon to go with it, would you be able to handle that?”

“Don't talk to me about my drink, when yours is a vivid green puke colour.”

“Hey, at least it actually has a colour. And a flavour at that.”

Dean couldn’t believe those words were coming from the same man who drinks exactly a hundred and one ounces of water a day. (Which, according to Sam, is the recommended amount for males, as stated by the Institute of Medicine.)

(Dean didn’t care.)

“Fine then.” She turned to look at Dean. “Get me the strongest thing on the menu.”

Dean laughed before turning to Cas. “Let's just go get in line before we suffer at the hands of the Leahy like Sam.”

Sam and Eileen went to look for a place where they could all sit again, playfully bickering the entire way.

While he was standing in line with Cas, Dean looked over at his brother, and found him and Eileen sitting at a small table in the corner.

Cas was still helping him learn ASL, so he caught parts of their conversation.

“If Jack is in every drop of rain, do you think he's in your water?” Sam signed, trying to contain his laughter.

Eileen pushed her water away with a look of disgust. “You’re lucky I love you.” She answered back.

“I know I am.”

He watched her silently laugh before turning back to look at Cas.

They really did have it good, didn't they?

“What are you ordering, Dean?”

Dean stood there silently, contemplating. He internally weighed his pros and cons, mind leaving the menu entirely. While there was still a lot of shit he had to work through, (shit he had been actively not working out his entire life), there wasn’t much of a decision to be made.

He would always choose Cas.

“You know what?” He reached out and grasped Cas’s hand firmly. “I was thinking about being less boring. What ingredients do you suggest I try?”

Cas smiled warmly, reaching the crinkled corners of his eyes. “They have a cinnamon flavoured one. That’ll be almost like apple pie.”

“Will it really?” Dean’s tone was dismissive, but there was a smile on his face.

“Yes, Sam told me.“

“Not that I trust Sam’s judgment, but okay, I think I’ll take one of those.”

“I'm going to have a real pumpkin spice latte this time.” Cas seemed very pleased with the aspect of buying something they could make it home, but Dean wasn't going to fault him for it.

The patron in front of them finished ordering, clearing the way for Cas and Dean. The barista from the first time they went caught sight of them and made a face. “Wait a minute. I think I know you two.”

“Yes, we came here yesterday.” Cas helped. “Well, we actually visited twice, but you weren't working the second time.”

“Right... John and John, how could I forget?”

“This time we're ordering for four though.”

“I would like a…” Dean squinted at the menu, looking for the cinnamon flavoured coffee. “‘Cinnamon Dolce Latte.’ And my devilishly handsome friend here will take the pumpkin spice version.”

“And what are the other two drinks and names?”

Dean whispered something in Cas’s ear. “I'll drink the coffee, but I won't budge on this one.”

“That's okay Dean, you’ll get there eventually.” He whispered back.

The barista looked unimpressed with them. Again.

Dean cleared his throat. “Ahem, sorry. The tall one with the stupidly long hair,” he pointed towards Sam, “is getting…” he trailed off before looking to Cas for help.

“I don't know, man. It was something sickly looking. Cold? Green? Possibly tea?”

“And Iced Green Tea Latte?” The barista suggested.

“That's the one. His name is Jimmy.”

“And the lovely lady sitting next to him would like the strongest drink you have. Her name is Robert.”

“Her name is Robert…?” He slowly pointed towards Eileen, sounding unsure of himself.

Or them.

“Yup.” Cas said.

Eileen gave a little wave from across the room.

He gritted his teeth in a very clearly fake smile. “Coming right up.”

They paid for their coffee and picked it up, taking the travel cups across the room and towards Sam and Eileen.

Cas took a sip from his pumpkin spice latte, gleefully smiling. “As much as I like trying different drinks, I think I might start just getting this one. It's my favourite.”

Sam leaned over to Dean, neither one taking their eyes off of Cas. “Should we tell him the drink is seasonal?” He glanced at Sam, before staring back at his partner, whose face was beaming like a literal ray of sunshine.

Dean’s face softened. “Nah. Let’s not ruin his moment.” He took a sip of his cinnamon coffee and damn, it was delicious.

Nothing at all like apple pie, but still delicious.

Cas walked over to him, making eye contact in a silent question. Dean nodded with a small smile, and Cas took his hand.

“I love you.” Cas whispered.

“I love you too.” He whispered back.

They didn’t whisper to hide, and it wasn't because he was ashamed. It was because that exchange was just for them.

Dean leaned in and softly kissed Cas.

Now that was to tell everyone in the shop that his devilishly handsome friend was spoken for.

Slowly, the sun would come out and shine through the stained-glass window, shadow portraying the picture of an angel.

And alright, fine, Dean could admit that he enjoyed the peppermint mocha.

He thought about it for a moment, before giving a light chuckle, realising something.

“What?” Cas asked, turning to look at him with a soft smile resting on his face.

“Nothing.” Dean whispered, squeezing Cas’s hand in his. He took a sip from his coffee, relishing in the warm and cozy flavour enrapturing his tongue.

He was only thinking that maybe, just maybe,

Cas had changed him too.

---

Bonus Epilogue:

Dean held the glass door open for the other three, and they all walked out onto the asphalt, laughing, and making their way towards Baby.

The street lamp overhead flickered, and all four of them froze.

“Did anyone happen to get the salted caramel macchiato?” Dean whispered.

---

-This fic on Ao3 (Kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated.)

-Writing Tag

-Ao3

-Request fics/drabbles/ficlets. (Please)

[morganaux]

Five times protective (From Teu @shardsandstories, for Morganaux or Phoebus, your choice :3)

@shardsandstories

((For Morganaux or Phoebus? How about Morganaux and Phoebus?

oops i got a bit carried away with this lol))

====

"Watch your back!"

Halting mid-incantation, Morganaux turned back just in time to catch a faceful of blood raining upon him as his vodoriga assailant was cut down by his Viera companion, its small form twitching upon the ground as it let out a final hiss.

So much for having a peaceful moment to tend to their wounds.

Looking around to make sure that there weren't any more voidsent waiting for the opportunity to pounce, he let out an annoyed huff ill-fitting for a man who had just escaped death mere seconds ago. "Thank you, Teu," he murmured, raising an arm to wipe the blood from his face. "You're always tellin' me I need to be more careful, but I mean it this time. I promise I'll be more careful!"

====

"Watch your back!"

The Garlean prince whirled around in an instant, sword unsheathed and ready to parry— though it seemed that he wouldn't have a use for it for the time being. Raising a brow, Phoebus watched curiously as the cloaked figure struggled in the grip of his unexpected savior.

The glint of a pair of scissors, fabric scissors, held against his attacker's throat caught his eye in the dimly-lit hall, and it didn't take long for him to piece together the identity of his protector. "Thank you, Teu. You have my deepest gratitude," spoke quietly with a smile upon his lips, the tip of his blade joining the scissors beneath his would-be assassin's chin. "As for you... I have no desire for vengeance for your attempt on my life. What I want, for the moment, is merely an explanation."

====

Tears clouding his vision, the Elezen stepped forth, trembling arms outstretched to the man that blocked his way in the Vault's halls. He was all too familiar with primals and their thralls, and he knew deep down that the Noudenet that stood before him was no longer his childhood friend. This was the devoted follower of a primal, and there was nothing he could do to change that— nothing short of ending his life.

"Noudenet, please," he begged, his faerie frantically tugging at his cape in an effort to pull him back. "Come here. We can talk this out. This grip upon your mind... You can fight it. You can outsmart it! So please, put down your weapon, and we can—"

His words were cut short as a comet hurtled his way, only for a shield of blue aether to surround him, protecting him from harm. Though, before he could process what was happening, he found himself swept off his feet and slung over his fellow Warrior of Light's shoulder. "There's no sense in trying to reason with him. We must go at once before you get yourself hurt!"

Holding Morganaux steady with one hand and gunblade in the other, Teu sprinted away, eyes narrowed as she looked for another way forward. There was so much they would have to talk about, but for now, she needed to get him somewhere safe.

====

Phoebus did not dare meet the man's gaze as his former brother-in-arms lurched forward against the arms that held him in place, and he cursed himself for his cowardice. "This man is not to be harmed under any circumstances," he ordered, hands curling into fists as he stared down his guards. "He is to be taken into custody and questioned thoroughly. But no harm will come to him, and he will be treated fairly."

Tacitus let out a laugh as his captors whispered amongst each other, and with a smirk, he spat at the prince's feet. "You want me to be treated fairly, yet you cannot extend that same privilege to the people you subjugate," he snarled, finally going still. "You once spoke of justice and of protecting our homeland, and yet now, you share a bed with a tyrant who cares for nothing else but war and conquest. How dare you speak of fairness when you have the blood of thousands on your hands!"

Every word was a knife that pierced through Phoebus's chest, his eyes falling shut as his mind struggled to process the accusations his once-trusted friend had raised. "A... Tyrant? I... Do not understand. The emperor only means to take back what was stolen from our people, and to protect us from the threat of eikons. He would not want anyone to suffer the way that our people did for centuries. I refuse to believe it, yet..."

Kneeling down, he finally looked Tacitus in the eye, reaching out a hand to him. "You were never one to lie, my friend. I want to understand. I want to—"

Once more, the captured legatus lunged at him, this time breaking free of his subduers. Though, before the prince was within his reach, Tacitus now found himself pinned to the floor. And, towering above him stood the royal tailor, who had until now been silently watching the scene unfold from the corner of the room. "A discussion can be had later, once you have both had a moment to calm down. I have no desire to see anyone hurt."

====

"I see you for what you are," the voice of Elidibus echoed in his head. "You are death, and only in death shall you serve any purpose."

Shade after shade of friend and foe alike blocked Morganaux and Teu's path as they chased the Ascian through the streets of Amaurot. These were not the same people they knew. They were nothing more than simulacrums meant to unnerve them— to make them question if what they had done was truly the right thing— to make them suffer the same pain that Elidibus had suffered every time his comrades fell at their hands.

This, Morganaux knew, and he would not allow Elidibus's trial to weaken his resolve. There was hope for compromise and understanding between them, even if the Ascian refused it. There could be a peaceful way to solve things, and Morganaux would find it. Even if he could not sway Emet-Selch from his path, it was not too late for him to find a way to make peace with Elidibus.

And yet now, staring into a pair of familiar seafoam eyes— cold and empty seafoam eyes— that wish for peace was shattered. Standing there before them were Archbishop Thordan and his Knights Twelve, with none other than Noudenet front and center.

Once upon a time, Morganaux had tried to save him. Tempered or not, he would not slay his dearest friend. Surely, there was a way he could get through to him past the primal's grip upon his soul. Surely, he could find a peaceful resolution, and no one would have to die. But, this was no faerietale. There were no happy endings— not for Noudenet, not for Emet-Selch, not for anyone who stood in opposition to the Warriors of Light. And soon, it would be time for the last true ancient's tale to come to an end.

Falling to his knees, Morganaux looked up to the soulless imitation of his friend he had failed to save, giving him a smile of acceptance as he closed his eyes. He had slain Noudenet twice already, and it would not happen a third time. This, he refused.

"On your feet, Morganaux!"

The clang of steel against steel snapped him back to the present just in time for him to see the false Ward knights fading away, and Teu's hand outstretched to him. "Your friend wouldn't have wanted you to throw your life away like this. He would have wanted you to live."

After a moment's hesitation, he took the offered hand and slowly pulled himself back on his feet, smiling faintly at his fellow Warrior of Light— at his friend. "Thank you, Teu. ...Again. I really, really do mean it. Thank you."

[fanfictasia]

You know, it’s very interesting that your boss englishlady seems to know her “troll” is a “she.” Frankly it reads as if englishlady is having a friend write all those anons so she has something to argue against when no one will engage her - or, better yet, anonning her own blog, which yes, you can actually do. I wouldn’t trust too much of what she says; the fandom got bored arguing in circles around her, and we mostly block and ignore her now. She’s just desperate for attention.

You know what really is interesting? It’s that you’re so bothered by the fact that we’re intelligent enough to figure out who the real troll is. We know who it is, and that person is, in fact, a she. If you think you can make a few nasty comments and I’ll run away and stop spreading the truth… well, you’re wrong. You have obviously never met me before. Lol. I don’t run. I stand up and fight, and I’ve got people who support me. It doesn’t matter that @englishlady, I, and the rest of us are in the minority. It matters that we have canon supporting us. You can claim whatever you want, think whatever you want… but that doesn’t change the truth. You can kick and scream and cry that the sky is purple or magenta and not blue, but that doesn’t change the truth. If englishlady’s beliefs were really so boring and unimportant, then why, pray tell, do so many people still talk about her and mention her after blocking her? That is true cowardice. If you really don’t care about her, then why do you keep talking about her after blocking her? Why would you not simply block her and move on? If you think you can turn me against her, well, you’re sorely mistaken. I admire people with courage, and she has more than any of you. At least she’s not hiding behind anonymous, too scared to stand up and say, “this is how I feel.”

You know, the thought struck me that Obi-Wan would be horrified by your behavior. He would be furious at the way you’re treating other people because he might have made many mistakes, but he would never condone bullying. Which is exactly what you’re now doing. Maybe one day you’ll wake up and realize what a miserable life you have, running around and bullying people for disagreeing with you. And guess what, we don’t care. You can say whatever the heck you want, and we’ll just laugh at you, because you’re a coward.

PS. I bet @englishlady has some things she’d love to say about you, harassing one of her supporters. Lol.