#not to be an ass but this has to be one of the most shit takes ive ever had to read with my own eyes djfkkskekjskf

[cosmicalily]

'kiss my troubles away' with stray kids, ot8 headcanons by @cosmicalily | first kisses with skz

“you turn minutes into hours, don't stop 'til the stars are all we see. you know, you make it easy for me to let go, so let's go, oh, oh.” - ‘kiss my troubles away’ by twice

author's note: a very fluffy req from the lovely @channieschocco <3 this was so fun and lighthearted to write, hope you enjoy it sweetheart! warnings: kissing, making out (all sfw!), sex jokes in jisung's bc he's a fake ass freak, also lowk jisung slander but i promise i love him guys

first kiss...with chris

kind of similar to jisung, but probably a bit less of a loser (this is said with affection!). like he’s all talk, always teasing and winking and leaving lingering touches, but when it comes to the real thing, his ears are going pink and his eyes are wide and suddenly he doesn’t know what the hell to do with his hands. on your cheeks? on your hips? around your neck? eventually, you have to intertwine your fingers with his, and then he settles, rubbing soft circles into your hand. definitely a slow makeout enthusiast, especially when its quiet in the evening. he loves the intimacy of kissing you, the level of closeness. what a softie.

first kiss...with minho

mingo mingo mingo, my funny little guy. he seems quiet and shy on the surface, but i know (you know lee know) that he will be grabbing your ass the first time you kiss. he can’t help it! it just felt right! and he’s kissing you, what else is he meant to do with his hands? not harshly, but like a gentle hold, other hand cupping your (non ass) cheek softly. when you pull apart, he’d gaze at you with this insane melty softness in his eyes that gives you no choice but to kiss him again. i also feel like minho would love the classic back-hug-and-neck-kiss move, and whenever you’re in front of him, expect a pair of lips on your neck.

first kiss...with changbin

i’m a lifelong advocate for the pick-up-and-kiss combo, especially if seo changbin is the one initiating it. it’d all be very sweet and soft with him, probably very giggly too. he’d get so giddy afterwards, unable to stop laughing, and neither would you! with your legs still wrapped around his waist, he’d haul the two of you onto the nearest soft surface and you’d both squeal like teenagers over what just happened. probably the type to pepper your cheeks and nose with small kisses afterwards (not the post-kiss aftercare) and he’d treat you like an absolute princess the whole time!

first kiss...with hyunjin

hyunjin has been waiting for this moment since the first time he set his eyes on you. he wants to make it ‘perfect’, and has all these grandiose plans for how to initiate, but of course it happens when the two of you are nestled on the couch in your pyjamas watching a movie. screw a fancy dinner and roses, i guess! but in all honesty, he loves it regardless. he just wants to be with you, and having your lips on his is an infinite bonus. he’d sling his arms gently around your waist, and i feel like he’d be a sucker for makeouts. definitely the type to just gaze into your eyes for a couple of seconds after the kiss ends, very cliche high school movie of him, but let him have his moment. this is a very big deal for our resident romantic.

first kiss...with jisung

this guy is all talk and no balls (sorry not sorry), and he’d be flirting and teasing about kissing you for so long, probably even about fucking you, but when you actually cup his cheeks and bring your face to his? he’d be shocked. suddenly he’s babbling incoherently and his cheeks are bright pink and holy shit, thank god he’s cute because otherwise, he’d never live this down. he eventually settles after his nervous system reminds itself that he’s actually just kissing his girlfriend, not being held at gunpoint, and then he starts to get into it. might even slide a cheeky hand onto your waist if he’s feeling really confident, but for the most part, he sticks to caressing your cheeks and playing with your hair. silly boy.

first kiss...with felix

felix likes to hide behind this innocent, blonde angel facade, but i know the freak that you are lee yongbok. i feel like he’d definitely be the one to initiate, especially since he’s a big physical touch guy. hands are probably all over you on the regular, but even moreso when you settle yourself onto his lap and he finally gets to press his lips to yours. he’d be gentle, because this is a pretty intimate moment for the two of you, and he wouldn’t want to overwhelm you or take things too far in case you’re not ready. whilst it’s a decent step in your relationship, it would feel very casual for the two of you, like it was meant to happen. he’s probably already kissed everywhere on your face and neck but your lips anyways, this little lovebug.

first kiss...with seungmin

seungmin would be so gentle, making sure you’re comfortable and that it’s really, truly what you want (even if you’ve made it abundantly clear, he needs to be certain). would probably start with a soft peck, waiting for you to initiate if you want anything more, but once you do, he’s very giving. his lips are smooth and sweet and probably taste like coffee. he wouldn’t want to get too carried away when kissing you for the first time, so it would probably just be gentle makeouts for the first few times. he’d be the type to cup your face with his hands and softly stroke your cheek once you pull away, eyes sparkling. god bless kim seungmin, now move because it’s my turn.

first kiss...with jeongin

jeongin kind of doesn’t care. and this is not in a bad way! but like, he doesn’t really feel the need to rush things, he’s just happy to let things happen as they do. he’s comfortable around you, and whilst he might not always initiate affection, he’s always glad to receive it. so when you lightly thrust your thigh over his while cuddling one day, he’s quick to place his hands on your waist and let you lean into him. would probably start very soft, but i feel like he’d get easily overexcited, especially due to the fact that your lips are finally on his for the first time. however, he’d be careful to make sure he doesn’t go too far, silently checking in with you as the kiss progresses to make sure you’re happy, and who the hell wouldn’t be?

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @heartsbyani @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts @zelinkcrossing @urlocalmultigroupfan @shuuporanglinos @lezleeferguson-120 @r1nstaaa @bibibahngg - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[mrmilomoo]

Kinks I think Simon Ghost Riley has, but they progressively get freakier. Part 2.

18+ MDNI, TW: perversion, humiliation, perverted bullying

Part 1

Tits or ass?

Try pussy.

I’m being so serious. This man is actually so gross about it. Just a yucky pervert under that mask. Of course he loves and would has lick every inch of you, but he just can’t help but give his favorite girl (your pussy) special attention.

Sure, he’ll grope your tits and ass for a bit, but he’s already got his eyes on the prize and if there’s one thing Simon prides himself on, it’s efficiency. He’s the kind of guy to not even bother taking your top off before pulling your bottoms down and getting to work. This man will have you rocking the Winnie the Poo look as he goes down on you.

It’s almost like you’re living with an immature bully with the way he depants you at the most inconvenient times. One minute you’ll be fully clothed and peacefully stirring soup or some shit on the stove and the next minute your lounge shorts and panties will be pooled around your ankles and you’re trying to not fuck up your soup while the (rude) man knelt behind you is spreading your cheeks and burying his face in your cunt.

Speaking of bullying, if you’re wearing tight pants like leggings and he can see the outline of your panties thought them, there’s about a 50% chance he’ll succumb to his urge to give you a weggie. This increases to 80% if you’re wearing a thong, and 100% if you’re wearing a thong and you bend over in front of him. Leaves your pants on and just reaches in to pull your panties up tight till the flimsy cotton or lace is trapped between your folds and biting into your clit. Loves listening to you whimper and whine at him in that pathetic, high-pitched voice. Music to his ears… and cock.

He also loves when those thin, tight leggings of your’s give you a nice camel toe. Unless he’s actually trying to engage in a serious conversation with you. Then he hates those pants. How is he supposed to focus on what you’re saying when your pussy is practically staring him down?…

…What were you even arguing about?

Well, whatever it was, it’s going to have to wait. His “favorite girl” obviously needs some “special attention” and Simon Riley has his priorities. Perhaps not straight, but he certainly has them nonetheless.

[randomhuman45]

Team Avatar from ATLA would 100% beat the Avengers (MCU) with each team having their respective technology.

Let's be so fucking for real right now, all tech the avengers have is 100% useless as Toph could easily just metal bend it. Just going with even the entire MCU team up from Endgame Team Avatar is the only one coming out alive. Iron Man, Falcon, Black Panther, Iron Patriot, Ant-Man, Spider-Man (MCU tech version), Star Lord, etc are all having their skulls crushed within 0.5 seconds via Toph. Her metal bending just destroys them. She could probably even take out Bucky's and potentially Rocket since it seems like he's got some metal in him.

Next thinking about those who don't use as much tech, Captain America (Steve Rodgers) and Bucky (w/ or w/o arm) have already lost to water in the past so Katara could just put them back on ice. Furthermore, any tech Toph doesn't get can potentially be fucked by water too.

Assassins like Black Widow and Hawkeye would prob be best against Suki. Suki would def fuck them up and her Kyoshi Warriors outfit is perfect for deflecting arrows.

Any tricks any of the Avengers could possibly set up Sokka would probably figure out. Not to mention that the kid is a fucking genius and come up with countless new inventions that would fuck with any characters I'm not thinking of at the moment on top of ensure that the gang has the most logical and tactical war plan. This literal kid set up 2 invasion plans against an enemy who has been winning a war for 100yrs in less than a yr which includes the plan that WON THE FUCKING WAR! So yeah, the MCU is fucked!

Okay okay, so the Avengers have Hulk. Hulk has been defeated by Spider-Man's jokes on multiple occasions in the comics. But, "oh you said MCU", fine in the MCU he does talk about how he needs to be angry and the more angry he gets, the stronger he becomes. Furthermore in the films it's been shown that he can be pulled back to Banner via other people calming him down/reducing his anger. You mean to tell me you don't think goofy, silly, dodge and joke Aang ain't wearing that man down to Bruce? Aang doesn't even need to pull out the Avatar state to win that one.

There's also no way Aang isn't worthy of Thor's Hammer in which he could probably wield it away from him after redirecting Thor's lightning. Again Thor can also be defeated with Aang's charm and comedy, but if Thor is fully locked in on killing the kid, Aang still wins. Thor has a hammer and lightning; Aang has all 4 elements and 100% also the power to wield the hammer (only way I see him not is if it takes into account his prev lives and Kyoshi fucks him over again, but I doubt it).

With Scarlet Witch (pre-villain arc) idk why but my brain says to sic Katara on her ass and she's done for. Scarlet may have magic which can warp people's minds, but Katara has been through an incredible journey and has blood bending if need be. I mean that or I can see Sokka making something that takes her out immediately. There's just no way Scarlet is beating Team Avatar.

For the possible people who will say "Oh you say Sokka is a genius and inventor, so is Tony Stark". Fools, Stark only know how to build shit with metal, every single one of his intentions fails from even daring to be within a million mile radius of the all powerful melon Lord. Even when Tony was stuck in a cave or didn't have his suit in I think the 3rd movie (the one with the PTSD) his inventions were still tech related and referred to metal while Sokka's don't so Sokka's are harder to track and not susceptible to Toph's raft. Closest weapon I can think of that Tony has made without metal in the MCU was those Christmas ornament bombs which, while great, Sokka has canonically done better.

Dr. Strange would fail to Aang similar to how he failed against Spider-Man, Aang would be too much of a chaotic foe for him. Dr. Strange (MCU) has in every film shown an inability to win against a foe who he cannot predict. In his first film he had to establish a time loop which made a constant structure he could follow in order to win. To go against Thanos he had to go thru every possible option, and against Spider-Man, another funny, goofy, and unpredictable kid he lost due to such nature. This is where Dr. Strange would fail against Aang.

I can't really think of anyone else. But either way I firmly stick to my guns that Team Avatar is taking out the Avengers (MCU in particular) in a battle. What can I say, the kids be taken em out, one after another fr fr and I didn't even include Zuko.

I approve of powerscaling discourse only in utterly senseless contexts. I don't give a shit about which shōnen protagonists could beat up which other shōnen protagonists, but I will 100% read your five thousand word essay exploring the subtle nuances of establishing a tiered ranking of the Smurfs.

[quartztwst]

Azul Ashengrotto (MagiKey AU)

Azul Ashengrotto [MagiKey User "Deep Blue"]

"Oh, I am the kindest and most benevolent MagiKey user of them all! Although, I do have.. my moments."

Azul is currently 17 years old. He's only been a MagiKey user for a year but he managed to climb up to be one of most popular MagiKey users and one of the strongest. Although, he has strayed far from his path. He does his MagiKey duties but on the side, he participates in suspicious schemes, earning himself a title of a villain. He promises you that he is a man of honesty and generosity while casually doing villainous actions. He usually hides his "side work" and manages to convince most people that he is totally not doing suspicious things.

After being saved from his corruption, he ends up pausing his "side work" but he does eventually continue it, not learning his lesson.

Status:

Mental/Emotional Strength: ★★★☆☆ (Easily disturbed or shocked but he has a strong head when focused)

Physical Strength: ★★★★★ (Really strong due to octo-strength)

Stamina: ★☆☆☆☆ (He's too slow and really bad at running.)

Strategy: ★★★★★ (He's clever and can easily find loopholes)

Strengths: He's VERY observant and sneaky. He most likely knows very special information on you that you don't want anyone to know. It's also easy for strategy planning because he can predict your movements just by some observations. He's also a smooth talker.

Weaknesses: He genuinely cannot run fast for shit. Horrible at chasing people. If an opponent gets away, he says "Jade, Floyd, go get them!" (Their designs are coming soon)

Abilities:

Ability 1: Octo.. Cannon?

"FIRE!"

Azul's coat sleeves are cannons, yes. The cannonballs are octopuses, yes. Is he judging? YES.

He usually wears the coat over his shoulders because his sleeves are his weapons and they're HUGE. They move on their own when Azul needs them. He can also move both as once. Reloading is quick because of his own training and it is REALLY POWERFUL. One shot at that thing and you're FLYING.

If Azul is unable to focus and aim, nothing will come out of his sleeves.

Ability 2: Ink Tentacles GROSSSS YUCK!!

"Oh, please don't go. We have so much to discuss."

Azul can summon ink through cracks on the ground, buildings, anything and they will form into tentacles. They can restrain and attack people. They can be different sizes but the maximum size is like Floyd's height. They can also be attacked back too.

Final Ability: Golden Contract

"It's a Deal!"

When Azul activates this ability, you will see a golden contract appear in front of you and you'll be forced to be mesmerized by it. This will lure you closer to it, making you grab the contract in curiosity before you realize you pressed your fingerprint on the contract. You suddenly have an anemone on your head, forcing you to follow Azul's orders.

It's really hard to look away or escape this event and it usually works but it takes a lot of Azul's energy and magic. Using it too much can end up with him fainting or becoming corrupted.

Corrupted Form

(Quartz is there for size)

When Azul turns corrupted, his body becomes covered in this thick ink before tranforming into a large octopus. The purple glowing area is his weak spot and where you will strike if you’re trying to defeat him (aka KILL HIM).

Uhhh he can basically grab you with his tentacles. They come from the ground and he can summon multiple.

He can do a loud ass screech which will produce strong soundwaves to push you back

Since he drips a lot of ink, there are a lot of puddles of ink but they’re actually really deep like the ocean so if you fall in, you’ll fucking die or smth.

[bcksbarnes]

ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP PROMPT REQUEST: #29 "STOP STARING AT MY ASS, PLEASE."

you hated going to the gym with bucky for one reason and one reason only: he was a show off.

sure, rightfully so. if you had super serum and the endurance that bucky had then you probably would be just as much of a show off, but you didn't, so you were always a little jealous at how effortless he made it look.

though, you'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying the show.

bucky could lift every weight in the gym without breaking a sweat, he could run faster than the treadmill would even go up to, and when he would hit the punching bags it was always a guess if he would knock it completely off the chain it was being suspended by.

the other gym goers always gawked at him, he was basically a living, breathing hercules - not something that most people saw every single day. you couldn't help but love the attention a bit, you loved how despite how impressed everyone was by his strength and agility that bucky true intention was only to impress you.

a usually humble man making sure that his biceps and leg muscles looked absolutely toned every single time you looked at him, as if the floursecent lights of the gym were a spotlight on stage and this was his act.

it's when you're running on the treadmill that bucky conveniently starts doing his squats in front of you making sure he was holding the heaviest weights he could find as he starts. you can see him watching you through the mirror that lined the wall, your footing faltering for a moment as your mind is distracted for a quick second.

damn, he really did look good. your eyes wander from his shoulders, down his back - all of his muscles taut. you can't help when they fall on his behind while he's in the squat position. had it always been that round? and perfect? was this a beautiful part of your boyfriend you failed to admire previously? you try and snap yourself out of it.

"stop staring at my ass, please." you hear bucky's voice teasing you even through your blasting headphones. your eyes quickly snap up to meet his in the mirror, he has that shit-eating grin on his face as he pushes up from the squat.

you roll your eyes despite the blush creeping onto your face, cranking up the speed of the treadmill as you try and pretend like this whole thing never happened.

[growth-opportunities]

A flat girl uses an old spellbook to steal the tits right off her bitchy flatmates and finally get the body to make a move on her crush. Unfortunately, most of the stolen curves wound up going a bit lower than what she hoped for.

SMACK!

"Hurry up!"

"I'm trying! This shit isn't even in English!"

Indigo shifted uncomfortably, her roommate's handprint glowing red on her magically swollen ass. Her newly widened hips and massive cheeks were too large for any chair in the apartment, forcing her to bend over the table as she frantically flipped through the pages. The old, thin pages felt like they were more likely to crumble to dust than rip as Indio searched for a spell to undo what had been done. She just wanted to put her roommate in her place, to give Katelyn a taste of her own medicine. She made such a big deal about being busty, about having massive tits; Indigo wanted to see how the vapid bimbo would react when the situations were reversed. Katelyn tapped her foot impatiently, arms crossed over her flat chest, before letting out a frustrated groan.

"Ugh, I can't believe you would do this! Dumb bitch! Can't even get a magic spell right! Now none of us has any tits!"

"You think I fucking wanted this?" Indigo looked over her shoulder at her roommate, fury in her eyes. "An ass that turns a ball gown into a miniskirt?! It was an accident! How did I know that one of the ingredients wasn't named literally?! This book is, like, five hundred years old!" Indigo blew a strand of hair out of her face, turning back towards the book. "Tom doesn't even like asses! Everyone and their fucking brother is obsessed with asses these days and I get a crush on the one guy who couldn't care less. I'd have to find someone who actually likes an ass this fucking enormous."

Katelyn moved behind Indigo, grabbing at the bottom-heavy woman's hips. "You think you're in the shit?! Jackson wouldn't even be with me if it weren't for my tits. How the hell do I explain this to him? You want someone who would put that ass to use? You better fucking fix this or I'll shove my whole arm up your fucking ass!"

"It might help if you let me fucking concentrate! Swear to God, bitch, if you won't shut up, I'll put this huge fucking ass on your face until you pass out!"

The mental image of Katelyn's pretty, blonde face trapped beneath a mountain of jiggly, pale ass struck both women at the same time. They shared a look as silence filled the air. Slowly, blush crept into their cheeks as they fought against the realization that both of them were deeply turned on by that idea. Katelyn broke the gaze, glancing down at the massive ass, giving it an exploratory squeeze. Indigo's soft moan was enough to startle both of them, Katelyn jerking her hands away, tucking a curled strand behind her ear. "Just, uh, keep looking." Indigo just nodded, turning back to the book, her breath shuddering out of her as her arousal spiked.

If things didn't work out with their boyfriends and if they couldn't get the spell undone... Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all...

[impetusofadream]

Bro you can't clean the OG Mona Lisa. Cause Da Vinci was a weird little fuck who dicked around with the established painting/art techniques all the time. Same reason preserving whats left of the Last Supper fresco has been such a pain in the ass. He did shit that was cool and new but ultimately totally failed to give longevity to a lot of this works.

On top of which its like 600+ years old at this point and fewer than 25 verified Da Vinci works remain in the world and many of those are unfinished/disputed or things his students also worked on. Nobody wants to do anything to the most famous one left that even remotely has the potential to damage it.

That tiny little wooden plank of a painting is as clean as its gonna get until we develop magic levels of scientific skills to invent a new way to restore paintings.

Meet the Mona Lisa of the Prado, the earliest known copy of Da Vinci’s best portrait. Similarity in the undersketch of the painting indicates that this was very likely painted concurrently with the original Mona Lisa, by a student of Da Vinci.

There is much controversy in the art world over the question of whether or not to clean the fragile Mona Lisa, but her sister has been restored and some fairly odd later alterations removed to show the original vibrant colors and lighting. Some details, such as the sheerness of her shawl and the pattern on the neckline of her dress, have become utterly obscured in the original, but in the restored copy they’re perfectly clear.

It blows my mind a little bit to look at these two sisters side-by-side and imagine how much vivid detail could be hiding in the Mona Lisa under 500 years of rotten varnish. 

[electricneonvalkyrie]

If you think Abby Anderson would hurt her partner just because she can deadlift a bear, you haven’t been paying attention.

This powerhouse of a woman would drag a wounded stranger through a burning village and then apologize for getting ash on their clothes.

Listen.

Abby sees you flinch when a door slams, and her heart breaks in six different directions.

She doesn’t push for details right away and she waits. She gives you space to process. When you’re ready to talk, she listens like there’s nothing more important to her in the universe. To her, there isn't.

Abby is not the type to throw mantras at you without thinking. She doesn’t try to convince you that you’re safe with her, or that you’re safe now.

She shows you. Over and over again.

She gently untangles your trauma narratives and walks beside you as you unlearn the voice in your head that whispers it was your fault. She reminds you that love is not supposed to hurt like that, and surviving isn’t weakness. You’re strong as hell, and Abby helps you feel it.

And goddamn, if you freeze in public, this girl shifts into protective mode instantly. She’s got one arm around your shoulder before you even realize you need grounding. She knows what you need because she’s been in your shoes and it’s her priority to pay attention.

One of my personal favourites? She’s brilliant at building routines that work with your sensory needs. Bad day? No problemo. Abby has the lights low, all the cozy textures within reach. She’s your stability when everything shakes beneath your feet.

She isn’t a miracle worker, obviously. She is healing, too. She makes mistakes. They're never the kind of mistakes that force you to question her integrity and trustworthiness, though.

The first time you spiral, she asks what helps you. Hell, she may need to do this a few times over. The difference is, she memorizes your answers. This badass soldier gives a shit. She isn’t perfect, but she doesn’t leave you to suffer alone, ever. She reminds you that you’re not a burden and that your meltdowns aren’t brokenness.

With her actions. Because she shows up in a real way and not some regurgitated thing she saw go viral.

When you casually apologize for being too much, she looks at you like you’ve just insulted Mother Earth.

Okay and yeah, so she encourages you to hit the weights. It’s one of her personal coping mechanisms, and she’s fallen in love with it alongside the trauma that pushed her to pick up that first dumbbell. She wants you to know what it feels like to have quick access to taking your power back. But she doesn’t just slap you on the ass and tell you to hit the gym like some common douchebag. She wants to spend time with you and share her passions.

She lifts with you. She stretches with you. This girl wants to learn trauma informed exercise goals that aren’t about punishing your body because she has sure as shit punished hers. Abby wants better for you.

Maybe through this, she finds ways to be gentler with herself.

And my girl is a praise queen.

Enough said.

You did good. I’m so fucking proud of you.

In a modern setting, Abby definitely helps you set up your own bank account and encourages you to track your finances in a way that gives you full control over your safety and your future. She wants you to succeed, with or without her.

People assume far too much based on Abby’s build. I’ve seen her written like a man (at one point, most, if not all fics permanently fixed her to a strap-on, without ever acknowledging her actual body), fetishized as a monster, and stripped of her softness entirely.

Strength and tenderness coexist.

Writers who recognize this, understand the weight of characterization and how misrepresentation can be harmful.

I appreciate those of you who respect it and pour your heart into your art. It really shows, no matter how many kudos or whatever.

Keep going.

Abby would want you to.

[spring002]

now playing. . . i want you to want me by letters to cleo

if anyone knows you, they'll know the list, the list of top five things you hate about the infamous straight-a’s, cocky egoistical student known as scaramouche. you and he go way back when he used to be called kunikuzushi... well, actually, when he went by kabukimono. scaramouche is his “new brand” now. you hate how he was a sweetheart to a wannabe "badass" delinquent. you see him hanging with the group afterschool. they think it’s so tough to call themselves “fatui". whatever that means, you just hate the aftermath of your former best friend, scaramouche.

the list might be petty but hey, it's definitely a list. the list officially started in middle school when he began to mix with the bad crowd. his saccharine voice that used to talk sweetly to you as you two were best friends changed into something that could only be described as egotistic. the different friend groups he was in then, it made him think that he's the shit. when really in reality, he was the shittiest friend ever, ditching you at the curve to only be all buddy buddy with you later. only a sweetheart when you two were alone but the rudest guy you'll ever meet in front of his friends.

number one: you hate the way he talks.

scaramouche talks in such a condescending voice, it sounds too whiny, pitchy like he could be related to a banshee. it's so annoying when he's near your ear, spewing out lies to get under your skin. he always acts like he’s above everyone, especially you. like he knows more about you than you do yourself. sometimes, well let’s not lie, most of the time, you wish that someone finally gets the guts, the steel balls, to put scaramouche in his place. just to see the stupid smirk be smeared off his face, for that satisfying look of defeat etched into his porcelain face. maybe that would help you ascend to heaven when you die. 

it was late at night. you were chewing on your pencil, remembering a distant memory in middle school. it was stupid. totally stupid. you lost an academic event against him– whatever it was, it was devastating as it was ego bursting. you saw how he put up his fake facade of being grateful, you knew in reality that he would come over to brag to you. 

your friends were comforting you, saying that you’d get him next time, he would so lose for the next competition and that second place wasn’t so bad. it wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t scaramouche you lost against. yes, second palace to scaramouche. he sauntered over but really, it looked like he had a stick up his ass. he smirked, his voice pitchy and whiny as he called your name. kokomi gave him a dirty look as the others ignored him, averting their attention to you. 

but you took the bait, biting down as you looked his way. he said something so elementary. it was so stupid that you still get riled up from it. it was “you snooze, you lose”; it was unbelievably so dumb. he was smart enough to insult you properly and he didn’t give a shit to give you a better one. 

number two: his smile

you couldn't even classify his smile as a smile when it's always been a smirk. like he was a doll and the only face mold he has only been a smirk. you wish you could remember when he smiled so brightly you used to engrave it into your brain and dream of scaramouche being yours. alas, he's an asshole who's only emote in his inventory is to laugh like he’s operating without a brain. his hands look like skinny little tree branches as he chuckles like a madman. get a load of this guy. 

an idiot. 

number three: the way he stares

you two somehow managed to be in the same two classes together each year. it's like he pays the school to sit near you. this one time in class, miss linyang's liyuean history class, each table was a set of two and had to be coed. you were paired up with kazuha kaedehara. he was very cute as you could remember. but everytime you and kazuha interacted, you could feel daggers being stared behind you. you felt insane afterwards because even though you knew it was scaramouche. each time you turned around, his eyes weren’t glued to you but rather he was turned to his own partner, haypasia, doing whatever work they had.

during the second semester of history, you were paired up with another student, chongyun, who was a bit quiet but had an amazing work ethic. each time you two were working together, chongyun would always look terrified and guess who was behind you two....

scaramouche.

it's actually so sickening how he manages to annoy you. always stuck in your head, rent free. when you recounted this list to kokomi, she laughed at you a little and asked a question that irked you.

"name, don't you think these points are petty? are you sure it's out of pure hatred?"

you and kokomi were sitting in your bedroom while you debriefed midway through the list. she sipped on her tea quietly as you paused. is this pure hate or... wait? why are you second guessing yourself? kokomi doesn't know what happened to the two of you and why is she even asking that question? "pfft, kokomi, of course, it's a tad-"

kokomi placed her tea down on the nightstand and raised a brow.

"-- petty to list these as actual reasons to hate him. but i'm definitely sure these are out of pure... uhm, hatred. but nothing else."

"if you say so."

number four: you hate it when he lies

okay before everything that happened. 

before the identity changes, you remember how his mother lost her twin sister, miss makoto. how that situation of his life has been flipped upside down and how that affected how he treated you. not pinning this hatred on his mother, of course. but you wish things were different.

or at least, there could been a universe you two were still buddy-buddy despite it all. when you asked him what happened, he told you everything was fine in a bittersweet, heavy on sweet, voice, so you believed him. even though you knew it was a lie. you tried to coax the truth out of him, but he never broke it to you.

only when you asked his stepmother, yae miko, she told you the truth out and plain. however, she only told you because she believed you were his girlfriend, and you deserved the reason why he started to ghost you. but you two?

it kind of makes you laugh a little that she believed you two were together. kind of stupid, isn't it? by the time you found out, it was too late. scaramouche ghosted you for a newer crowd and it was fine. you didn't really need him anyway.

number five: you hate it when he's not around

as much you didn't want it to, your routine wasn't the same without him. his presence lingered in the school hallways, in your house, near your bed and next to you. you could only live off of glimpses of him in school and sometimes looking at your archived posts on instagram. sometimes when the thoughts get to you, you go through a cycle of denial again. but you managed to stop yourself from actually sending a text to scaramouche or breaking no contact.

you settled for less of him in your life because that's what he has given you. but was it worth it? you don't want to second guess it because if you do, regret would seep into you and linger in your brain until you rot to death. even after your death, if archaeologists in the future find your body, they’d find your bones in the dirt aching with guilt and regret, all the emotions you hid away over the years.

well, kokomi was right. none of these are out of hatred. there isn't just five reasons you hate him, there's a sixth which was:

number six: you hate it that you don't actually hate him, just miss him

the school year was over and the summer has started, maybe, it's time to get over this. your group of friends suggested that you should get out more often. during the school year, you were swamped with your job at the cat's tail, studying and responsibilities were piled up. eventually you did fell for their nagging and had a one day off, you spent it with kokomi, yelan and kaeya. in the mall, debriefing sessions and just overall, quality time. however, yelan brought up the fact she was invited to a party hosted by the itto. but you knew if it was hosted by itto, it's likely to see scaramouche again. not like you couldn't handle it, it's just that... yeah, you couldn't handle seeing his face again. in the tevyat uni, you could because it was school. but out of school, it's over. it’s best to decline the invite and go home.

yelan saw the look of your face fall as she sighed, adjusting your collared shirt. "name, you need to get out more. just because the one who could not be named is going to be there doesn't mean you shouldn't know."

kaeya agreed with yelan, "why are you letting a man get in the way of fun?" you knew this feeling– this is when your friends were going to gang up on you. mentally preparing yourself for an ongoing chain attack,  kokomi added, "and we haven't seen you outside of your dorms or even video calls. please, name, we could have so much fun at the party."

you replied, "just give me three reasons to go." the three of them made eye contact with each other just before blabbering out reasons why you should go.

"you could stop stalking him on instagram!"

"okay, low blow, yelan." you huffed, pointing at her accusingly. “and you stalk him on instagram not me!” 

“well, i just want to tell you when he’s doing badly. plus, you could use this time to catch up with other people.” 

"you could finally pull a guy!"

“or multiple.. guys.” 

"or it could be just hanging out with us, the gang???"

"talking to people face to face instead of text to text?"

 "you keep reposting sad shit on tik tok, it's not healthy to surround yourself with that negativity."

“you listened to mitski a couple times this week #nooticing.” 

you won't lie, some of these things do hurt to hear and they're right. you should go out. it doesn't help being depressed everyday when you only have two months of the summer left. "alright alright. i'll come."

they celebrated with a cheer. in your soul, you knew, the feeling of regret would still reside in your head.

you already regret it and the emotion settled on your shoulder. you're at the party, in a corner, and somehow, your friends who preached being by your side disappeared into the crowd who was raving to the music. you were left alone, holding a red solo cup. since it was actually shinbou and yelan's house, not itto's, so you knew your way around the house. you saw people making out haphazardly  in the hallways, you winced at the sight of that as you made it out upstairs, near yelan's beloved koi fish tank. a familiar face saw you, you nearly flinched at the pair of indigo eyes but alas, it wasn't him. you took a deep breath, preparing for more bullshit coming your way.  it was venti, already tipsy, holding an empty bottle in hand.

"aha! name, i knew you would be there." he said, walking to you, holding onto your shoulder for balance. "c'mere, do you wanna play a party game? you don't have to, of course, but you look a little bored here, standing near..." he paused to look at the pink-blue colored fish and a white pearlescent fish. "mimi and gojo. oh no, that white fish is totally dead."

venti wasn't a bad person per say, but you knew he was heavily associated with scaramouche. putting it as “heavily associated” was an understatement, they were most likely friends. you didn't really want to see him even though your friends encouraged him to face him because he's just a man or something not worth to dwell about. you ignored the offer for the game and replied with a short answer, "i don’t think it is."

he nodded as he took a tiny swing of the bottle before realizing the bottle was actually empty. his shoulders moved up and down as chuckling, he changed the subject back to the game, "anywhoo, are you joining us in seven minutes in heaven? or speculating?"

you knew that he wouldn't give up on the offer. he's quite stubborn. you gave in, "the latter."

"alright, follow me." he gave you a cheeky smile.

you saw familiar faces like kazuha and he waved at you. you smiled back. the rest of the people sitting in the circle didn't look familiar to you. venti laughed, "whoops, guys, this is name and name, this is xiao, the star twins, aether and lumine, yoimiya, nilou, albedo and so-and-so!" he placed the green tinted bottle down in the center of the circle, "we are playing spin the bottle."

you glanced at each person in the circle. xiao looked like he was forced to be there. lumine looked indifferent to the situation while aether was giggly... tipsy? you weren't sure why venti said so-and-so but you're sure scaramouche wouldn't play a game like this. after a couple of rounds, only some of the people came out disheveled while the others were just getting to know each other. you feel like this game might be a set up, but you brushed it aside. feeling the fomo get to you, you joined the game. venti cheered as you laugh a little. it was your turn to spin, and you landed on...

some random guy. he wore a hoodie that obscured his face. this is definitely a setup isn’t it?, you thought, as venti pushed you two into a random room together and locked it from the inside. you flickered the lights on and the other person in the room looked in your direction. you two were on the opposite sides, the gap between you guys could be compared with the sun and planet uranus. you couldn't make it out who it was in the room with you as he wore clothes that covered any features of him. unlucky for you, you just know who it is, "scaramouche."

he chuckled just the way you hate it. how it gets stuck in your head and forever played in your head, how it picked at you. how irritating. "took you long enough, name. a bit slow on knowing this time."

"you're not the type to play this game." you replied, your voice was not warm like it was before outside of this room. it was cold like when you lashed out on him long time ago. he doesn't reply for a while until he took off his mask and retorted, "neither are you but how would you know? we haven't talked in a while."

"'a while'? it was highschool. that's more than just a while."

he huffed, the stupid nails on a chalkboard voice coming back, ringing in your ears. "whatever."

"'whatever'!" you mimicked his voice. "you're still the same guy in highschool."

you noticed how your words pricked at him, expecting the relief in your heart. instead of the awesome feeling you’ve been yearning for since you were a tween. it was a pang in your heart, lurching forward. you saw the look on his face before, he's riled up. you've seen this face on him before but never as expressive as this. he grunted, his voice fluctuating between pitched to low. "i've changed."

you let out a sarcastic laugh, "yeah right."

the room was silent. you were sure these seven minutes might go on for decades now. you were waiting for the time to be over. he broke the ice, "you know what? why are you always pissed to see me?"

"what?"

"you think i'm stupid? why do you always get annoyed when our eyes meet or whatever."

"do you seriously don't remember anything? i didn’t think you’d develop dementia so early." you're in disbelief. how does this asshole not remember anything? is this how he lives life blissfully? you’re seething at this point, jealous that he’s unable to live the same pain he inflicted onto you. 

he rolled his eyes as you clenched your fist, almost winding it. just to be prepared to knock his head out before he uttered more bullshit excuses. "i remember that you betrayed me first."

huh? 

his sentence made you confused. betrayed him first? what kind of drugs is he on? baffled, you almost snorted. you quipped back without missing a beat, 

"what?"

so stoic, he didn’t even flinch but just looked at you with the same face you gave him earlier, "you broke the promise."

"well, you ghosted me and never explained why!" you replied. the gap between you and the indigo haired male slowly got lessen. he opened his mouth until he noticed that you were agitated. he closed it and inhaled, “fine, i’ll tell you since it’s obvious you forgot the promise.” 

an eye for an eye.

he sat on the bed, pursing his lips as if he’d regret even manifesting these words out loud. “i ghosted you because i didn’t want you to see me at my weakest… or at least, i think so. i didn’t understand the feeling i had at the time when i saw you with other people. i just wanted you to be my best friend. but there was this nagging feeling that you deserved better than me and you did.. you still do.” 

instead of reacting in disbelief, you pinched your nose bridge, “so instead of telling me, you just kept ignoring me?” 

“yep.” 

“you’re an idiot.” 

“i know.” he said with remorse. there was more to his words, something hidden. his gaze looked down at the wooden floors. “so what was the promise?” you asked, his head cocking up, meeting your eyes. 

“it’s something stupid.” 

“like what?” 

“that you’d be…” he looked embarrassed. man, you wish you had your phone on you because he was extremely red, flustered like you caught him in a trap. “... my girlfriend in highschool.” 

you couldn’t help but crack up, “i didn’t break that promise?” sitting on the corner of the bed, “if i’m being honest, if you didn’t ghost me, we’d be dating for sure.” 

he looked like he wanted to die. “so it was all my fault.” 

“nah, it was mine too. i didn’t ask you why you ghosted me either. i was too hurt by it.” you murmured, fiddling with your shirt. 

there was a pregnant pause. scaramouche murmured but it was loud enough to hear, “i think…” 

“what? just spit it out because this became seven minutes of closure.”  

"i think i have feelings for you, name."

you yelped, "...what?" were you really getting a confession from your ex best friend right now? if he was really someone you hated, then why was your heart aching again? "repeat that again?"

"i have feelings for you." in disbelief you laughed, watching him shrivel up into a corner. 

“again.” 

“no.”

you wanted to ignore this off like it wasn’t a big deal. as if this hasn’t been something you secretly wanted to happen, just not in this situation. your feelings were all over the place, divided on his confession. though, you always knew that you still like him and that kokomi was right, it wasn’t just pure hatred. you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him, no less, to love him again.

“as much as i reciprocate your feelings, i just can’t accept it.” you replied as his head lifted up, cowering in his hood. “you can’t expect to confess and think it would be all better because you did.” 

scaramouche paused, “but…” 

“but?” 

“if i earn your forgiveness, can it happen?” he asked, meekly. the facade of the confident guy diminished before you. 

you bit your lip, tilting your head left to right. “only if you do.” 

“i can accept that. i mean, i understand.” 

“okay.” 

[arget-star]

some Dad!Sakura thoughts based off this ask :) (written with f!reader in mind!)

tw: mentions of pregnancy, having a child

-It takes a LOOOOOONG time for Sakura to not immediately shrug off the idea of fatherhood. The number of (positive) father figures in his life is 0, nor did he ever imagine himself as being a dad.

-When he does come to terms with the idea, it scares the absolute shit out of him. What do you mean he'll be entrusted with the care and raising of a tiny baby?

-This man is literally ?????? for most of your pregnancy. Doesn't understand why you're craving ice cream and pizza at 3am but he'll make damn sure you get what you want some how, some way. Grumbles a little as he's putting his shoes on and gives you an extra peck on the forehead when he comes back home. (Asks his friends for advice a lot. Will deny it if confronted. You are frequently sending thank you texts to everyone.)

-Secretly loves it when you silently plop your feet in his lap for a massage. Nearly combusts the first time he feels the baby kick. Always asks before putting a hand on your belly (dummy) and in fact turns a charming shade of pink when he does.

-Sakura.exe stops working the first time he holds his baby. Just stares at this itty bitty little face and prays to whoever is listening that baby's hair and eye color is normal. (Even if baby inherits Sakura's heterochromia, he will teach them how to fight/defend themselves and you bet your ass any snot nosed bullies will have Sakura to deal with.) ("Sakura you cannot beat up a six year old." "They made our baby cry! Where's their dad?")

-All jokes aside, Sakura really is such a loving dad. No, he doesn't always handle situations correctly and he gets frustrated easily, especially early on, but his baby will never go a day doubting they are loved and in a safe environment. Sakura raises his voice to be heard over a tantrum one (1) time and feels like the world's worst father. Apologizes to baby, to you, to baby again. Once baby is calmed down, you then calm down your husband who has not said a word since The Incident.

-He will do anything--anything--for his child(ren). Never passes up a chance to say he loves them or he's proud of them.

-(It's not uncommon for Sakura and your little one to play fight around the house. Until one of them breaks a lamp and you forbid them from roughhousing inside)

[zepskies]

Omg yay!! @tofics Welcome back, friend!! ❤️❤️ I'm so glad you're tuning into this one because you'll see some Smoke Eater type stuff in this mini series too - with the added fun of a plus-sized reader. 😘

Okay, first of all - love love loooveeee @redhoodieone for requesting this and @zepskies for bringing it to life. Firefighter!Dean just does things to me. And yes, Alex, it's all your fault. (Thank you!) And now the reader is an ELEMENTARY TEACHER? ARE YOU KIDDING ME! That only happens to be what I'm studying! It's like this trope was written for me 😭

Omg that's right!! I love that you can relate to this story on multiple levels, and the reader being an elementary teacher was part of the request too! ❤️

Now. I know I've said it before, but as a plus-size girly myself, reading fics where the reader is plus-size herself not only helps with the immersion, but also becomes even more of a delight when they're pictured as desirable. And you did such a good job with that. The repeated slaps on reader's ass, his obvious attraction to her, but most importantly, his outrage when she calls herself fat. Like he can't even believe she'd think of herself that way, because that title simply never occurred to him. Such a rewarding and healing thing to read! 🥹

Ughhh I feel you so much here. Me being plus-sized myself, it's always fun for me to give myself this escape and write how I wish all of us would be treated, especially when we get down on ourselves. That scene at the end was very self-indulgent in a way, but at the same time it made sense for the reader character and how Dean sees her! And also, I just feel that Dean wouldn't mind having his hands full. 😏❤️‍🔥

And god, all those feelings of comparing herself to Lisa and Jo. I wish I didn't know that sinking feeling in her gut when she talked about how she had to slim herself down to fit into the dress, while Lisa and Jo do it so effortlessly. Or the absolute gut-punch that was Lisa's talk about "sticking to a clean diet for the baby" - as if she gives two shits about the little one growing in reader's belly 😒 Ten bucks say she secretly wishes there was no baby to begin with (which, honestly, theoretically I can't blame her for...), nor that she cares about the reader's "health". Fat shaming packaged as "caring". 🤮 Ugh, it made me so mad just reading it! (You wrote it so well 🥲)

lmfaooo pure personal experience on this one! 😅 While I'm sorry you can relate to the reader here like I do, I'm glad you thought it was written well! Lisa being a total bitch in this one loll, disguised in "niceness and politeness" to me is always worse than being blatantly nasty for some reason. It's more like the kinds of things we probably deal with on the day-to-day, when you don't know if something knows they're being a bitch or not, or if they're really trying to hurt you.

GIRL. Now why was this so freaking hot. Jesus Christ. And then his admiration when she's on top next morning 😭

Because who would expect a selfless (generous) man on a one-night stand? 🤭

*dreamy sigh* And this. THIS. The moment where he catches her disappointment. (Cause, ngl, I would've been uncertain as hell myself if I'd just slept with this guy for the third time in one night and suddenly he's scrambling to leave...)

It's an important moment! Shows that Dean is not trying to make her feel like he just used her for sex, he really just is running late. 😂 He's a good guy, he just has a lot of growing to do. 💓💓

Oh, Dean Winchester, the man you are. Alex, I can't wait to see where this goes! Lisa as a more bitchy version is quite the interesting read, and their little unintentional three-way set-up is bound to cause some drama 👀 And I'm here for it!!! Can't wait for the next chapter - coming out on here just one day after my birthday! Can't wait to read it 💓

He's extra something special, all right. 😩

Girl I can't wait to share Part 2 on Sunday!! (Soon and very soon!) It's a huge rollercoaster of emotions we're headed down, and this is only the first leg of it. 😂

Omg Happy early Birthday!! 💕

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Read Part 2 on Patreon now!

⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005

[weirdero]

So. Not to say I called it but i told y’all Lochlan was a FREAK. And in a strange and twisted way, Lochlan might actually be a bigger freak than Saxon.

When the series started, I assumed we’d be watching a tug of war between Piper and Saxon over Lochlan each trying to shape him into the kind of person they want him to be. But as things have progressed, it became clear that’s not really what’s happening. Sure that’s how they might view it, but the truth is Lochlan isn’t some piece of Playdoh they can mold. He’s already his own person, with his own selfish desires and tricks up his sleeve.

And honestly he’s way freakier than either of them even know.

So far, he’s already “betrayed” Piper in a bunch of small but significant ways. He doesn’t spend time with her at the monastery, and when he tells her about Saxon’s nasty comments he severely downplays them almost defending him. He laughs along with his family’s gross jokes. His biggest betrayal so far is abandoning her before the dinner literally when she needs him the most. I think Piper already suspects she’s losing him to Saxon, but in her mind she probably believes he’s being manipulated like Saxon is luring him in.

And Saxon’s freaky ass probably believes he’s doing the same thing too.

So far this man has deluded himself into thinking he’s a “positive influence” on Lochlan teaching him how to be a “proper man” or whatever. He probably thinks going in these “hunts” (yes I’m calling them that) with lochlan are beneficial to lochlan development as a young man. In his mind, he’s just showing his younger brother the ropes.

But like I said, little does he know Lochlan isn’t some lost little puppy. He has his own desires and tricks up his sleeve. While Saxon is desperately (and pathetically) trying to hook up with Chelsea, he’s so focused on setting an example and showing lochlan how shit gets done that he doesn’t even realize Lochlan is quietly flipping the script on him the entire night. Literally playing his own tricks on him.

It starts when Saxon tells Lochlan not to get carried away with the drinking “Pace yourself. Let them get messy” Gross. That’s the kind of shit some like alpha male podcaster would say. Lochlan doesn’t really react he just responds with a simple “Someday, I’m going to take you down.” It’s playful but in my opinion carries some truth.

When Chloe comes back with the drugs and Lochlan actually takes one Saxon is shocked. For the first time ever he we see him panic a little but Lochlan brushes him off “Why are you mad? Relax.” Already Saxon has lost his assumed control over him two seconds later it’s Saxon who finds himself peer pressure into taking the drugs being egged on by Lochlan it’s wild.

Another moment like that is the one of them in the beach. It’s subtle, who knows I might be reading to much into it but when Lochlan plays with Saxon’s hair it’s so like calculated to me. I feel like It’s not just innocent sibling playfulness like Saxon’s nuggie and head kiss was normal like that’s sibling shit but the way lochlan touches him. It’s weird. It’s uncomfortable.

And then…… you know.

First of all, Chloe and Chelsea asking them to kiss was so weird. Love Chelsea but why would you say that. At least she looked a little weirded out idk.

Anyways such odd behavior like I don’t care how fucking high you are I think any sane person would have been immediately turn off by that. Even saxons ass was weirded out and he was GEEKED. You can’t hear what they’re saying really but you can see him being clearly bewildered by requests itself and before he can even react and say some shit back out of nowhere, Lochlan just goes for it. He doesn’t hesitate. Its the way he goes for the first initial kiss and then he looks up at the ladies checking ti see if their satisfied. And when the girls clearly aren’t satisfied (specially Chloe weird ass hoe) he goes for it again.

in that moment, Lochlan stops looking to Saxon for validation. He used to hang on Saxon’s every word like when they have lunch and his mother spews out a gross joke he checks to see if Saxon is laughing. When is confronted with a difficult conversation like when he tells Piper he was staying on the boat he looks back for saxons guidance. But in this moment on the boat Saxon isn’t irrelevant. or at least his feelings and boundaries and basic human rights are Irrelevant. In my opinion with the single kiss Lochlan intentionally intended to accomplish three things. To gain approval from the ladies. To flip the script on his brother and gain authority and show his brother what he is capable off. He can be just as slimy as Saxon too

And the smile Lochlan gives Saxon afterward it’s Sick. There isn’t any remorse there it’s almost a playful expression that he gives him like a “You didn’t see that coming, did you?” He’s so satisfied of himself.

And look, I don’t even like Saxon. But when the realization of what just happened hits him? Oh my god. I’ve never felt so bad for anyone. No one deserves that.

Now, as much as I hate to say it—I don’t think Lochlan kissed his brother just as like a gag to impress those girls. I genuinely believe he’s both attracted to and obsessed with Saxon in a deeply twisted way. I don’t thinking it’s just about him l wanting Saxon but it’s that plus him also wanting to be Saxon. Both at the same time simultaneously.

And if that doesn’t make any sense to you, the only comparison I can offer is “Asian girl”

Fucking Asian girl.

“I am her. And I’m fucking me”

That. That’s how Lochlan feels about Saxon.

Anyway I’m pretty sure Piper will find out about the events that transpired eventually. But I don’t think she’ll take it seriously at first. And even if she does what are their parents going to do about it. Probably nothing. What I’m really curious about is how Saxon is going to cope with this moving forward. Is he just going to bury it how will he confront Lochlan if he does end up confronting him

And The night’s not even over yet. It’s already super late probably closer to sunrise than sunset but I would be surprised if they don’t show what happens after all that weird shit I wonder if Lochlan actually gets it in with Chloe. And if he does he’s probably gonna pull some weird shit in her idk.

That family is wild.

[sexy-monster-fucker]

But I’m Gonna Get You Back

Lee Russell x Vice Principal!Reader

Summary: Lee uses revenge against Dr. Brown as an excuse to fulfill a fantasy of you he has had.

CW: friends with benefits, p in v, public sex, spanking, creampie, mentions of porn

a/n: changing timeline here a bit, so that Lee was going through his divorce right before Dr. Brown was hired

~~~

“There you go, sweetheart,” Lee groaned as he bottomed out inside you. One hand grasping the meat of your hip while the other wrapped around his iPhone. He had you exactly where he wanted to. Skirt hiked up over your ass while bent over the desk.

Making sure to get everything in the shot as he began sliding in and out of you. Cock lathered in the wetness dripping from your folds.

Lee was a cocky son-of-a-bitch, there was no doubt about that. Loving to hear his own head roar, constantly checking himself out in the mirror, thinking he’s the smartest and cleverest in every room he’s in. So when the idea struck him to film himself fucking his long term work fling, he felt like a modern Da Vinci.

Taking his time to pull in and out of you. Loving the sight of his length penetrating your cunt. Especially when he would hit a spot that caused you to moan his name.

Porn never was something Lee cared all that much for. Finding himself critiquing the facial expression and likelihood of the situations that played out. Opting to just rub one out in the shower then even take the time of finding a cheap porno. Easier than trying to fake his attraction for some woman with massive, fake tits.

But, you?

You never failed to get him going.

Ever since the first time the two of you had stayed late together, you were the apple of his eye. Finding comfort in you in a time of divorce. Really, he had never been in love with Christine. Only wanting her so someone else could not have her. He was bitter that way.

Of course, he had originally seen you as competition for the Principal position at North Jackson. Hating the stupidly short skirts you wore everyday. How your cleavage hung out of your tops more often than not. But really hating how kind you were.

Gamby and Russell were hard-asses. Faking nice when it convenienced them. Always plotting someone’s demise; whether it be catching a student they knew was doing some shady-illegal shit, or a teacher they both hated. Especially hating each other. Only finding friendship at the shared hatred for Dr. Belinda Brown.

But you could never fake it. Always trying to stick up for people, especially the students. No matter how hard Russell or Gamby tried to insult you, you would simply allow it to fall off your shoulders. Unbothered.

That was until you did not get the Principal job. Fully convinced you were the most deserving amongst your peers. Enraged that the school board had just brought some random in. Unraveling and having to take your anger out in the clearing behind the school. Screaming so loud that birds flocked away.

The first time Gamby and Russell had seen you break. Not knowing you were in company when you had hid yourself away. That was when you all decided to get Belinda out.

Your bond with your coworkers had deepened over the time of mischief and questionably-legal activities. Learning that maybe they were all you needed. Even considering them friends.

So when you got some awkward butterflies when Lee would give you an “atta girl”, you got confused. Developing some kind of crush on your fellow Vice Principal was the last thing you imagined when getting involved with the two. Pushing the feeling deep down as to not get distracted.

Until you had went out for Payday Drinks and had one too many. Drunkenly confessing in Gamby’s backseat as you laid against Lee’s shoulder. Mumbling how he had overtaken your mind and how you felt a flip in your stomach every time he looked you in the eyes. Only really remembering the bright smile that came across Lee’s face when he realized you were serious. You were so drunk that Lee stayed with you, holding your hair while you hacked into your toilet. Hugging the bowl and crying because you were so embarrassed.

Next morning being greeted by the source of your embarrassment asleep on your couch. Discussing the night before over breakfast. Not that either of you ended up eating it. Too quick with connecting mouths and tangling in your sheets.

Neither of you looked back since.

Hooking up in supply closets or under the bleachers when one of you had an itch to scratch. Familiar with every scratch and scuff on his office floor. Almost having hooked up in every possible place in the building.

All except one.

Lee had suggested it as a way to “get back at that bitch, Brown.” Unsure how secretly getting fucked on her desk was exactly getting back at her. Not really caring either. Because the idea of getting railed by your coworker on the desk that should have rightfully been yours tingled inside you.

Sneaking in while Dr. Brown was off on some fake wild goose chase with Gamby. Lee had lied to convince him you would be wrecking her office while she was gone. Switching files around and shredding some. All just a ploy to get the office to yourselves.

“I wanted to ask something,” Lee’s dark tone fell along your skin as he kissed you.

“Hmm?” you hummed a response, lost in the feeling of him.

“Can I record this? That way I can have a physical reminder of this?” His big puppy dog eyes looked into yours. Chills trickled down your skin. Never having been filmed during sex. A hint of fear clouded the back of your mind. Fading when you felt his large fingers interlock with yours. Being slightly turned on by the idea.

“Sure,” you grinned. Capturing his lips with yours. Enamored by his lust blown eyes and the toothy grin across his face.

Which is how you ended up where you were now. Thick length buried inside your walls. Front flush against the Principal’s desk. Papers sliding under your palms as you attempted to brace yourself. Loving how perfectly he stretched you.

“Lee,” you whined. One of his hands gripped your ass. Swinging and planting a firm smack on the tender flesh. Gravely exhale falling from him.

“It’s like this pussy was made for me to fuck it,” his voice had dropped an octave. Snapping his hips aggressively into you. Chasing his own high, knowing he would have to pay you back later. Longing for the feeling of your walls spasming around him. Happy to have to fuck you again later to get that feeling.

White knuckles gripped the edge of the desk. Trying your hardest to not completely ruin the organization of files. But then remembering, this was Dr. Brown’s desk. Who gives a fuck if everything gets ruined?

Pencil holders and paper weights bounced against the linoleum. Previously alphabetized pages decorated the floor like a blanket of snow. Causing Lee to chuckle. Never stopping his movements into your core. Camera never leaving your backside.

Finally darting his eyes up to the clock ticking on the wall. Realizing he had been taking far too long enjoying you. Needing to hurry things along before the two of you were caught with your pants down.

“Gonna cum in you,” Lee grunted. You vigorously nodded. Loving the feeling of him seeping out of you. A gargled “fuck” fell from him as he pushed himself flush against you. Cock twitching as it sputtered into you. Coating your walls with his cum.

Sighing with a wince as he pulled out of you. Squatting down for a moment to capture the image of him leaking out of your core. Smiling ear to ear as he watched through his phone screen. Pretending he did not want to go right back and fuck you again.

“That’s it, honey,” Lee cooed. Pulling your panties back over your cunt. Making sure to keep his seed pressed into you. Sliding his phone in his pocket as he rose. Holding your position for a moment as you attempted to catch your breath. Pushing the remainder of nonsense on Dr. Brown’s desk as you stood to your feet.

Lee was quick to spin you around and plant a feverish kiss on your lips, “That pussy never quits, hmm?” Smiling with a low chuckle.

Both of you realized the time and began scrambling. Throwing stuff around, flipping her chair upside down, tipping over a filing cabinet or two. Adrenaline running high as your body shook with afterglow and nerves.

“We’ve gotta go,” you pointed to the clock. There was barely any time left before Gamby and Dr. Brown would be back. Quickly running out of her office. Composing yourselves before anyone saw you. Flattening your clothes and hair down. Both of your faces still flushed. Tucking away into Lee’s nearby office to pretend like you were having a meeting. Logging onto his computer to make sure and delete the footage of you entering and exiting Dr. Brown’s office.

Finally able to breathe when you sat across from Lee. Eyes falling shut as you grasped your chest to catch air. Lee leaned back in his chair, hands gripping the back of his head as he laughed. “That was fucking incredible,” he exhaled. You shifted in your seat feeling Lee’s seed leaking into the fabric of your panties. Still struggling to catch your breath with the adrenaline rush you were feeling.

Sitting in a comfortable silence until Dr. Brown’s scream jolted you both aware. Eyes wider than ever before as you both rushed over to fake concern. Lee stormed in first, teeth locked together as his eyebrows jumped up his forehead. Finding Dr. Brown and Gamby both standing stunned by the mess. Gamby’s eyes were huge when they met yours, clearly not expecting the overkill you and Lee had done. You shrugged right before Dr. Brown turned to look at you both.

“Who the hell would have done this to me?!” She stomped her foot on the floor with disdain.

“Jesus… I’ll go grab one of the janitors, this is just terrible,” Lee grasped at his heart.

Soft lump of guilt piled up in your stomach. Having to keep your false face as you mouthed words that did not escape. Shocked, atleast pretending so.

“We need to check the cameras,” Dr. Brown sternly said.

Pulling a smirk across your mind. Knowing she would not find anything. Knowing you had bested her again. Giving Gamby a knowing look.

Not long until you ran her off.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! I’ve been writing for Lee for nearly a year now, and I’m just always so overwhelmed with the positivity I receive from these. I’ve made some awesome mutuals who I get so excited to tag every single time [mutuals let’s be friends fr]. I wish there was another season of Vice Principals! As always, if you want to be tagged let me know. Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! //

{tags}

@boydcrowderapologist ~ @justme12200 ~ @toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @iwmflbb ~ @dichromaniac ~ @megangovier ~ @itsyellow ~ @hiddlebatchedloki ~ @ddlydevotion ~ (I love you guys)

[izunaposting]

hikaku is pissing me off bad today. so, as you know, as clan heir to the eminent position of head uchiha, i am filled to the brim with talent and skill and chakra which means i can make fire dragon no jutsu. i know you're jealous and if you're not you should be because it's f***ing bad ass. and because i am kind and genteel to the future generations i was showing off a smaller version of my fire dragon, which is definitely a flex, i can create at least two types of dragons, and so i told these kids that what makes our clan great is that most of us have this potential especially if you harbor a dragon's soul, like me, unlike a CERTAIN clan (senju) and then hikaku has to open his big mouth and remind me that tobirama also has the ability to create an elemental dragon.

so the reasons wrong with this

1. tobirama doesn't have a dragon's soul, he has a dung beetle for a heart and shit for soul and i hate him

2. i'm trying to bring in future generations into the fold and you're INTERRUPTING my TRAINING SESSION, you asshole

3. shut up!

4. it's a water dragon, which is stupid because anyone can make a water dragon. i can make one in my bathtub. ohhh, but water can flood towns and rend crops to waste and cause landslides. um, maybe run away from the mud, first of all, and a water dragon is all about life and stuff, whatever, while a freaking bad ass fire dragonn kills everything in its

path

but hikaku still is going on about how the wielder of a proper dragon jutsu must share some form kindred elemental spirit which is DISGUSTING to imply that i'm in any f***ing way similar to f***ing tobirama senju or even WORSE his stupid tree of a brother (for i refuse to recognize his elected position) who i only give credit for being able to have wood AND fire dragons which make a f***ing awesome funeral pyre, and hikaku just said, so you are complimenting hokage-sama?

SHOULD I KILL THIS MAN WITH THE HILT OF MY SWORD?!

[itdobethatbitch]

I would like to note that young girls are also more predisposed to mental illnesses like anxiety or depression, they are in a time in life where they are looking to fit in and thus fall easily into the whirlwind of media saying they are broken. I was lucky to get out when I did, because I remember being a senior in high-school and looking at the freshmen and thinking they were disruptive, disorderly, disrespectful, and just kind of stupid!! It has only gotten worse. This is like that post about being emo, like kids were weird and naive and immature maybe but they weren't so damn disrespectful, they had issues and used dying their air and doing makeup and clothing as part of a rebellion they felt they needed.

And they kind of do! (sorry I am just rambling now) like kids are treated as not having autonomy in any way when 7 year olds used to go hunting (with their older siblings or father generally, but still) they did chores and could take care of themselves for the most part. My nephew wasn't wiping his own ass when he started kindergarten!! His mother babied him so much he is just...unable to comprehend the thought of trying to do something yourself first. Then trying again!! And failing again!! But the younger generation just doesn't have any sense of responsibility.but yeah emo music and shit helped teenagers feel like someone understood them in a time when they feel like NO ONE understands them and how they feel. They are funky balls of raging hormones!! Let them grow and develop normally!!

We were allowed to grow and change without having our body parts removed. Girls could be multifactorial, like in late middleschool early high-school there was a big push for diversity at that time, and being from WV, that was good at first. We learned more about different cultures and gained a better understanding of the experiences people have and even more we learned how alike we were!!! Anyway rant over.

[rei-ismyname]

Jean and Scott get judged

It's A.X.E Judgement Day, baby. Previous discussion here. The Progenitor/Space God has been rebuilt by people who never seem to learn. Instead of magically fixing everything it takes a good look at the planet and says 'YOU HAVE 24 HOURS TO JUSTIFY YOURSELF.' If more people on Earth fail than pass, there will be no tomorrow (very literally.) It judged Captain America first, very publicly, and failed his ass. Uh oh.

Scott approaches The Progenitor, adamantium balls clanking, but refuses to recognise its authority. He IS down for judgement though. Scott requests a change of venue...

'... What?' Despite being an omniscient being, it really didn't expect that. Scott's position seems to be that only Jean can judge him, though he'll accept a scolding from his teammates. Considering the stakes are the end of all that exists, it makes sense that Scott is only willing to put his heart on the scales for Jean. He's been living on the edge of annihilation for most of his adult life and he knows who he is. He knows who loves him and who knows him best. There was never any chance he'd accept the judgement of a god built by Mister Sinister and Tony Stark, but he does need to pass. Everyone does.

He passes! Thumbs up for Wife Guy Scott Summers. He's so incredibly confident about this that it's a little off-putting, even threatening The Progenitor as he turns his back. Rule of cool plays a massive factor here, but I think if it was left there it would be a bit trite. Refusing to listen to anyone but your wife? That doesn't sound healthy.

Scott has always had self doubt - it's one of his superpowers. The First Krakoan Age is the happiest time in Scott's life, no contest, seeing it as a reward for all the years of suffering and hard work. It's to be expected that his angst would be at an all time low, and this isn't the first time he's faced down space gods without blinking. However, they're being judged individually and as a collective.

The Progenitor has a much harder time with Jean. She's currently leading a mixed strike force into its body - protecting everyone present from the very hostile environment. She describes it as 'holding a small star at bay,' so keep that in mind while she's simultaneously debating God.

The Progenitor knows where to push, and manages to make Chuck look as sinister as ever. The framing is her first day of school, observing as the Danger Room runs the D'Bari program for the rest of the O5.

The O5 get into Dark Phoenix formation and the Progenitor!Chuck makes the case that Jean, and Jean alone, is responsible for the D'Bari genocide. She manages to kinda throw it out of her head, which is an astonishing feat. Jean cries out that she's been a hero ever since, admitting guilt if not culpability.

Tony, the unhelpful jackass, tells her she needs to pass the test. No shit dude. Somehow he passed his, despite causing as many problems as he solves (including this one) and being a billionaire. Logan is as paternalistic as ever, but at least he's supportive. She's a grown woman, dude.

Unknown to Jean, Destiny engineered a Quiet Council vote to approve destroying The Progenitor despite a high chance of destroying Reykjavik. A very exaggerated Emma Frost lays out the details while Jean's hands are nailed to the table. I wonder if this is Jean's exaggeration or the Progenitor's. Emma is so delightfully callous that I think it's plucked from the subconscious and twisted into a caricature.

The Quiet Council was already a disaster before Jean left/was forced out. It's only gotten worse, with people like Shaw, Sinister, Mystique, Destiny, Xavier etc making the decisions. Jean feels guilty about giving up the power as a ballast and becoming an instrument of policy. If anything, I think her sin is being a part of it in the first place and not overthrowing the council/working to reform it. Jean Grey has a unique position of moral authority and near universal respect, not to mention the power to avoid telepathic subversion.

It's unfair to put it on any one person, but Jean should and would feel guilty for allowing this travesty to continue. Same with X-Force - she left with clean (ish) hands and did nothing to challenge the institutional rot. It's fascinating that The Progenitor speaks as Xavier this entire time, suggesting that Jean still holds him as an authority. Someone she doesn't want to disappoint, when maybe she (and everyone else) should be worried about how he's disappointing them.

Sinister manages to insert himself and Logan into the Jean's mindscape, as the owner of purloined telepathy and Celestial knowledge. Logan gives The Progenitor props for getting Xavier's patronising demeanor right while Sinister shoots the metaphorical Quiet Council (he already had a taste for that, but it's clever foreshadowing by Gillen.) Jean tells them both to fuck off - she hates mind games.

Jean engages beast mode and steps up. The Progenitor finds her difficult and needs perspective, summoning character witnesses. Useless ones.

Sinister, the ultimate coloniser and objectifier, reduces Jean's value to her uniqueness and power. He tried to clone her and failed, making 'none better than her.' Why TF did it even call upon Sinister? He does know her well, in the way you know a painting. As a thing - beautiful and unique, forever out of his grasp - but still a thing.

Logan might be even less helpful. Calling God 'bub' is kinda funny, but his perspective is that of a worshipper. He can never truly see her for who she is because he's built a pedestal that nobody deserves. No knock on Jean, but nobody is perfect. Ignoring someone's flaws and mistakes while idealising their virtues stops you knowing the real person. He's not just saying she's perfect, he's saying she's better than this God. It might be his truth, but it's neither healthy nor helpful. I wonder what he'd say if he was a character witness for Scott, heh.

The Progenitor has heard enough of that. I can't imagine what its takeaway was from those two. High expectations? There's a third character witness it references - Jean's husband Scott. We find out the reason Scott passed. Bravery, haha. Buddy, you have no idea. It's not fear, I'll say that much. It's LOVE and submission to/respect for power. It's misquoting Scott heavily, or misunderstanding the subtext. Either way, it doesn't matter right in this moment. Look at Jean's face. I have no idea what to make of it, other than terror. There's a lot more than that going on, but I think it's successful in making her feel like a monster.

Well, God says Cyclops was right. Someone should make memes and t-shirts. 'I think you are like me' is an existential nightmare. The Progenitor gets to the point - Jean destroyed a planet for no reason at all. Umm, actually bro, it was a star and she was hungry. Get your facts right. It certainly is complicated though, no doubt about that. Jean certainly feels guilt for that, and it's interesting that she's 'never stopped trying to make up for that.' People aren't motivated by only one thing, but I feel like Jean has done more penance than most. Wayyyy more.

I'd like to see some receipts for the 'violent bully' claim, but again, this is about guilt. Emma called her a 'schoolyard bully' when she was caught raping Scott, and while Jean's actions were punitive against someone without the ability to fight back, I don't think her behaviour was especially untoward. It looks like those words have stayed with her, though. Considering the social flak she caught and her need for self improvement, a being of her power should be wary of bullying people. That's a strength IMO, but it haunts her subconscious.

Yeah, violence, god who's currently destroying the world. That's the idea - to stop your bullshit. The world isn't perfect, not even close, but destroying it accomplishes nothing. Jean makes a case of arithmetic, arguing that she's in the black. It doesn't work that way (I'm sure the broccoli people would agree) but that doesn't mean you don't keep trying to be better. You do the right thing because it's the right thing, not to balance some arbitrary karmic ledger.

Tony Stark didn't blow up a star (plenty of planets though but nobody remembers), but he was an arms dealer for a long time. He'll never have clean hands no matter what he does, yet The Progenitor passed him. That says more about Marvel's favourite billionaire failson than any Godly judgement, but Jean being The Phoenix, now and forever, doesn't have to be a bad thing. She did do that shit and it will always be with her, but dying closes the book on her story forever. Living means the opportunity to spend every day being better. Every day is Judgement Day.

This dark night of the soul that Jean experiences leaves her with more resolve than ever, and maybe a little bit of a perspective shift. When Enigma is playing his time travel game to undo Jean in RotPoX #5, he specifically goes back and changes this Judgement to a pass. Her arrogance and self awareness is untempered in that situation, leading to ruin. Gillen wrote both, so I think it's a valid reading to say that The Progenitor is teaching here. Sure enough, Jean collapses weeping after her judgement - briefly. She shakes it off with fury and a burning resolve to save everyone, protecting everyone like a Super Saiyan avenging angel. It's The Progenitor who ends up debating itself into a corner and judges itself unworthy of judging everyone else, because nobody is.