#she 100% believes she's meant to be alone and it hurts a little bit )

[cutielando]

i’m not clingy | c.l.

synopsis: in which Charles dreams of you cheating on him and is not okay with that

a/n: i accidentally deleted the request for this fic, so i’m making up for it 😭😭

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Charles was very confident when it came down to your relationship.

He was a confident person overall, and he was very confident about the strength of your relationship. He truly believed he had found the one for him when he met you.

He knew he had nothing to worry about, that you were 100% devoted to him and your relationship.

But something at the back of his head said just the opposite.

She’s too good for you.

She’s going to leave you.

You’re way out of her league.

She deserves someone better than you.

The thoughts just wouldn’t leave his mind, especially when you would be out to a club with your friends.

Just like tonight.

You had been clubbing with some of your closest friends until the early hours of the morning, celebrating all of you finally being in Monaco at the same time.

During the night, you and Charles danced the time away, wrapped up in each other’s arms and completely blissfully ignoring anyone else who tried to talk to you guys except for your little crowd.

But when you announced that you had to go to the bathroom and had to separate from him, something in the pit of his stomach told him he shouldn’t have left you go alone.

You were very attractive, Charles was very aware, and he knew men would always do anything to get your attention.

And when he said anything, he meant anything.

And that night was no different.

After a couple of minutes had passed and you still hadn’t returned, he got worried and went looking for you, trying not to let himself show the distress he was feeling.

That’s how he found you speaking with an unknown man, your forced smile clearly an indicator for him that you really didn’t want to be stuck in the conversation.

The stranger didn’t seem to notice the uncomfortable look on your face, or simply chose to ignore it. Either way, none of it sat right with Charles, who didn’t want to let you spend a second more talking with that man.

“Are we all good here?” Charles immediately stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist as he felt you instantly relax at his presence and touch.

The man glared at him when he butted in, his fake smile hiding the rage bubbling under the surface.

“We were having a conversation” the man pointed out, his chin pointing towards you.

He hadn’t even noticed the hold Charles had on your waist, instead settling on glaring at him until he would back off.

Which Charles had no intention of doing.

“I don’t see what kind of conversation you would be having with my girlfriend. I suggest you leave before I have you escorted out, and don’t ever talk to my girlfriend again” Charles demanded, glaring at the man with superiority in his stance.

You were watching the exchange like a tennis ball, thankful that Charles appeared when he did and interrupted the uncomfortable conversation the man had pulled you in.

You bit your lip and expectantly waited for the stranger to finally get the courage to leave, which he eventually did after a staring contest with your boyfriend.

“Thank God, I didn’t know how to get away from him without being a total bitch” you said and pouted, making Charles internally smile.

You were too sweet for your own good sometimes, always polite to people even when they didn’t deserve it. It was one of the things he loved most about you.

“I’ll always save you from creepy men trying to talk you up” he joked, making you laugh and lean into his body.

You quickly kissed him on the lips before taking his hand and dragging him away, back to your friends and the beloved dance floor, eager to forget the situation you had just escaped from.

All while Charles’ chest was tight at the thought and sight of you with another man that was not him.

It hurt more than he cared to admit.

♡♡♡♡♡

It was very late into the night, and Charles was twisting and turning in your shared bed. You were sleeping deeply next to him, his shuffling not even remotely bothering your sleep.

Charles' face was scrunched up as if in pain, his mind plagued by the worst nightmare he could have ever imagined having.

You, his dear and most precious girlfriend, kissing and hugging the man from the bar, the both of you laughing in his face. Charles could only stand there, his body paralyzed as he watched you living in happiness with someone else, someone who wasn't him.

He thrashed and turned the entire night, up until the early hours of the morning, when you rose from your deep sleep and felt the bed and sheets under you constantly shuffling.

"Charles?" you asked confusedly, turning your head to see Charles with a scrunched up face, his forehead sweaty and creased with worry lines.

He continued to twist around, his breathing heavy. You sat up and gently shook his shoulder, trying to gently coax him out of his clearly troubled sleep.

"Charles, amour, wake up" you said as you shook his shoulder slightly harder, jumping back once Charles opened his eyes and aggressively got up, panting and frantically looking around the room for you.

The moments his gaze fell upon you, he body-slammed you into the mattress, wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around your waist.

“Oh, thank God you’re still here” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the hem of your T-shirt.

Your eyebrows furrowed, keeping a tight grip around his shoulders in comfort.

“What happened, Charles?” you silently asked, not wanting to spook him even more than he already was.

He sighed, shaking his head into your neck and burying his face even further into your skin, like he was trying to get inside of your skin and stay there forever.

Neither of you spoke for a couple of minutes, the only sound in the room was Leo's breathing next to your bed and Charles' shuddering breath against your skin. The sun was getting ready to rise, the world was ready to wake up and start the day, but you two weren't.

“I dreamed that you cheated on me” Charles mumbled, his voice muffled into your neck.

“What was that, honey?” you asked, your fingers scratching the back of his head.

He sighed, slowly pulling his face away from your neck to rest it on your chest, still not meeting your eye.

“I had a dream that you cheated on me with that guy from the club” he explained, his voice still quiet but more understandable now.

Your shoulders relaxed a little, your frown softening and being replaced with a gentle look.

You gently played with the hair at the back of his head, your lips pressing light kisses against the top of his head.

"Mon amour, you know I would never do that to you with another man, no matter who he is" you explained, which made Charles quickly nod against your chest.

He shifted and got back up, making you sit up with him as well. He leaned against the headboard, his eyes closed and his cheeks still damp from his tears.

"I know. I'm just scared that you will leave me for someone better, someone who has a normal job and isn't gone halfway around the world almost every week" he said, his voice wavering.

This had always been a topic between the two of you. Charles was always worried about the time he spent traveling and being away from you because of his job. It sparked a lot of long conversations between the two of you, which mainly consisted in you trying to reassure him that it didn't bother you and you understood it was his job and dream.

You were nothing short of supportive, attending every single race that you could, but the doubt was still there in Charles' mind.

The doubt that told him that you deserved someone who was there for you every single day, not halfway around the world risking his life every single week.

"Charles, please look at me" you said and cupped his cheek, turning his head to the side until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know you think I deserve someone else and that you feel like a failure because of your lifestyle. But baby, I love our life the way it is. You are following your dreams every single time you go away to race, you do what you love and then you come back to me in one piece. Knowing you are doing what you love makes up for the distance and the weeks spent away from you. Nobody will ever measure up to you, mon amour. You are the only one for me and that is never going to change. I love you and only you"

Charles bit his lip, a fresh set of tears brimming his eyes. He had never had someone understand him on the level that you do.

The love between the two of you knew no bounds, and he was now more convinced than ever than you were both made for each other.

"I love you too" he said before crashing his lips on yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and squeezing you tightly.

And with that, even though you had a long road ahead of you, you would tackle everything together.

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[clvric]

        ❝ I should have known I’d leave alone... Just goes to show that the            blood you bleed is just the blood you owe. ❞

[theawkwardterrier]

Wednesday 100: S5 Series, cont.

Bree (5x06) 

“—and a bowl of milk will be fine, but cream is better."

Bree crosses her arms, looking only half amused. "I think we can take care of your cat, Mama."

"Of course, darling. It's only that I've never left the poor thing alone before."

"He won't be alone, that's the point." Eyeing Claire cuddling Adso, she adds, "Hey, if I didn't know better, I'd say you love that thing more than me."

Jamie, who has been waiting on the porch, sticks his head in. "Dinna be daft, a leannan. O' course we love you and yer wee brother the same."

Murtagh (5x07)

He cannot truly feel his godson's hands, only sees the stricken movement — not a soldier's instincts or someone trained by a healer wife, but a child's impulse, desperate to keep the blood inside where it belongs, to keep hold on someone he loves.

He wishes he could stay, yet he cannot regret what brought him here, cannot regret the righteous fight and brotherhood, the foundations of freedom. Even far from home, he isn't dying for nothing. He is doing it for Jamie, instead of him, so it will be years until he knows himself that it doesn't hurt a bit.

Ian (5x08)

He had known that the Ridge would be changed — he has been gone too long and Uncle Jamie's plans had been too expansive for it not to have — and yet Ian had still imagined that same little cabin here. He had wanted it, in some ways, wanted to somehow find himself turning back into the boy he had been then: someone who had suffered, yes, but someone who could smile without effort, who could imagine his bright future ahead.

But now he is here, haunting that big house, no long husband, father, warrior, tribesman, seeing only hopeless darkness awaiting him.

Marsali (5x09)

"Dinna tell me ye don't have snakes in yer time," Daddy says to Ma, and Marsali hears but does not pause in her work, only thinks to herself Yer time? and So that's what it is about her, and decides to speak of it with Fergus later.

A bit of her does feel invisible just then, wondering if they hadn't considered her worthy of true explanation or even excuses — misspeaking or delirium. The rest, however, feels warmed all through by the thought that they consider her family now, trusting her with their secrets, knowing that she accepts them both unguarded.

Roger (5x09)

He is a minister's son. He knows the confessions of the dying are meant to be sacred. That his father-in-law still lives does not change that he spoke this in confidence, as a last resort.

And yet when Bree asks if there is something else, he does not recall his duty to the dying, but that to his wife. He has kept things from her before, telling himself that it was for her own good, and brought only suffering to them all. He’s learned that lesson. He tells Brianna the hard truth.

He thinks Jamie Fraser would—will understand that.

Jamie (5x11)

"We just finished the upstairs," he had told John, and it feels now as if he had spoken a curse upon them, that specter that has visited them more than once before, as they grew settled, as they came to believe that they would have a life of perfectly twined peace.

But Jamie Fraser decides no. They will not be haunted again. They will have that peace, their walls and neighbors firm around them.

He has burned the cross. He will burn the world to find his wife and bring her back whole to this home they have built together.

Fergus (post 5x12)

The nightmares only start a week after.

It makes Fergus feel foolish, that he could ride to rescue Milady, take lives doing it, that he could find Marsali, think she was dead and still hold and joke with her later, and now once everything is calm, the nightmares come.

It makes him feel foolish, that he dreams of himself, laughing with Milord while Marsali shouts for him until she is shoved into silence and Germain stands outside alone, waiting and waiting.

That's why his hand finds the bottle: so he won't feel foolish, guilty, helpless, won't feel anything at all.

Claire (S5)

She realizes one day, looking around the house, that she still doesn't own a vase. She realizes the next minute that it doesn't matter.

She has here her garden and her favorite berry patches in the woods, patients and people who greet her each day. She has the children who have become hers, and her grandchildren too. Her husband has given her two rings, a cat, seeds for cabbages and marigolds, a strong roof, a surgery built by his own hands, windows no matter how dear the price, and everything of himself besides.

She has the vase already, and more.

[thatturtleleon]

OMG I am soooooo sorry!! I meant for tfp Airachnid x arcee x fem human reader! My bad 😅😅😅😅 That was totally on me lol

It's still cool if you can't! And if you can't some genreal fluff hc's with tfp arcee and her human s/o will be fine! Thank you and have a good day/night!!!!!

Note: Lol ur good!! I've never explored this ship before so hopefully these are ok! You have a wonderful day/night as well <3

TFP Airachnid x Arcee x Fem! Reader hcs:

*cracks knuckles* alright lets get started

first of all, these two bots are definitely more on the reserved "I work alone" side

Airachnid spent most of her life going solo, collecting alien species after she left the Decepticons, and Arcee doesn't do well with people, and is constantly dealing with the trauma of losing her past partners

(In this situation we'll pretend Airachnid wasn't involved in any of Arcee's trauma)

however, when you arrive in the picture, they found themselves drawn to you

they began to enjoy your company more and tagged along side you in missions

Airachnid was offered to join team Prime, but she refused, claiming she wanted to remain solo but was still open to helping out only if the team really needed it

that being said, you and Arcee noticed she "just happened" to be free to assist you guys on a mission, especially when it was going to be just you three

very soon the three of you were together almost all of the time, they felt comfortable around you and each other

you felt comfortable around them as well, every time they let you ride around while they were in one of their vehicle modes, you felt perfectly safe

eventually you all confessed to each other on a mission after being badly injured

that incident made them realize how fragile humans were compared to Cybertronians, and how quickly someone special could be taken away from them

it's safe to say they were more than happy to know that you had feelings for them as well

I imagine the others hearing about the news and making a little sign that said "congrats girlfriends!!" or something cute like that <3

dates include laying down together after a long day and looking up at the stars, each of you taking turns pointing out different constellations and telling stories

Airachnid likes to show you and Arcee around her ship, eagerly explaining all of the different species she's collected over the years

if you have a hobby you really enjoy, they'd nod and listen carefully as you talk about it

although, you could be talking about something as boring as a potato and they'd still be 100% willing to listen

they love your voice and they love hearing all the wonderful human traditions humans do with their partners too (you explained anniversaries to them and they never ever forget to get you something special that day)

on missions, these two show off for you. they try to act like its nothing but secretly (not so secretly) very much enjoy when you tell them how awesome and badass they were

both Arcee and Airachnid "fight" over who gets to drive/fly you around that day

"I believe it is my turn Arcee"

"Really? Cause it looks to me like y/n's eyes are definitely screaming 'motorcycle' right now"

"Her eyes are not screaming such things"

its cute, you let them bicker and love to tease them

cuddling was a bit of a challenge at first because you were so much smaller than them, and they didn't want to squish you or hurt you in any way

eventually you settled on laying on each of them, taking turns leaning on each of their shoulders

if you're really tired, they'll make sure to grab a pillow so you have something a bit more comfortable to rest your head on <3

they're also incredibly protective, of each other and of you

[kinetic-elaboration]

April 4: My So-Called Life 1x08

I don't remember being hit this hard by this episode in previous viewings. Either I'm just in an emotional state from being generally tired, or I'm old enough now to be super-moved by the emotional turmoil of my fellow-adults.

I mean, I'm not 40, but Graham and Patty were major Moods in this episode. Wondering if you've reached the point where 'this is what I really do.' Fearing mortality. Lying alone in a dark room with the desire to be left undisturbed. Bullshitting answers to questions over the phone. Not knowing what's going on in your own house.

Watching this time with the idea that Graham and Patty were supposed to represent subverted gender roles makes me think differently of the scene where Camille tells Patty that she's "not like her" because she "needs" Andy. I think Patty interprets it as "you would be emotionally okay if your husband died" but Camille actually meant, or primary meant, "you would be financially okay if your husband died." I think Patty is really shook by that idea, that she projects that image. But also like honestly good for her. I felt a lot more sympathy for Graham in this ep, within his own second-coming-of-age story, but she's still his superior. (I want to be Patty's friend so bad!)

I think of this as the ep where Sharon and Angela 'become friends' again but that groundwork was definitely laid in for several episodes before. In a way, they were never really THAT broken up imo. A big part of them becoming closer again is Rayanne's befriending Sharon--which she does in part because she's jealous and scared of losing Angela, because she and Sharon have both decided Angela's love is a zero-sum game--but also because she genuinely likes and is interested in Sharon, I think. I just... don't have the brainwaves to think about their dynamic right now but it is SO GOOD.

There was just a lot of small but nice stuff continuing to build on some of these relationships, like between Rayanne and Sharon, or Rickie and Brian. It bums me out a little that we don't actually get to see Sharon show up to the hospital with Rayanne and Rickie. I understand why she was hurt by Angela's distance because those are two REALLY random kids for her to be getting rides from. Also I love Rickie kinda mediating for Rayanne and Angela at the end.

Brian was a little bit of a wet noodle today. I like him better when he's being more forceful, sarcastic, kinda challenging Angela and not making things easy for her, in a sense. Like their last conversation while he was working on his bike. He can be a bit bulldozed by women when he finds himself in awkward situations with them. There are ways in which...he does kind of remind me of a young Graham.

I don't even entirely remember where Jordan and Angela left things at the end of the last ep but I guess they're over it now. He soooo wanted to get up and follow her when she left the class to see her dad. And there's a specific shot of him kinda half-getting up, like we need to know this. I am 100% convinced he thinks of her as much as she thinks about him. She's so mysterious! She just leaves class when something happens! She shows up under the bleachers--why is she crying? She's always so intense and you know, stuff just matters a lot to her.

Also I can't believe they just let teenagers smoke on TV in 1994. Or at least put cigarettes near their mouths? Idk, does he smoke. It reminds me of the pilot of The OC being allowed one cigarette and that's it.

[prrism]

–❄ here! So sequel idea is C!Tommyinnit finds out that Dream is his savior's brother and isn't bad back at the past, but someone [Aka XD] drove him insane. Reader took Tommy since he has a splitting image of what Dream used to be, but genuinely loves Tommy as Tommy.

[I love Brothers!Disc Duo]

Facts if needed [again]

×Dream is an Owl Hybrid but his wings where chopped off, further driving him into insanity.

×Reader is not entirely a hybrid, but they can communicate with owls at times.

×Dream still cares about Reader despite his derangement. Same with Reader

×Foolish, Dream, Reader, and Drista are biological siblings and Tommy being adopted.

×Drista is not a God.

Thanks for reading and receiving this request! Also, I didn't realize that I didn't anon my little fact there but I'm totally okay with my profile being exposed ^^.

First and foremost, how did you know my favourite animal is an owl? Like I’m 100% going to use that fact every time, how dare you (affectionate). Alright, now I’m going to be completely honest, this is going to be a little choppy. I couldn’t fully connect every piece of the story together fully, or at least nothing felt right to me, so it’s going to be broken into segments I did end up liking. Because of this format I’d say you’re free to interpret this as a sequel to Wanderer or see it as its own stand alone thing, doesn’t matter to me

I’m really sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted 😥

A Series of Events

Summary: There is no proper plot, just snippets of different scenarios I sadly couldn’t fully piece together…

Characters: Tommy x Reader x Dream (feat. Drista and Foolish too)

Relationships: platonic, familial

Pronouns: he/she/they (mostly kept neutral tho)

Tommy finds out you’re related to Dream:

“How could you not have told me! I trusted you!” He screams, hot tears trailing down his face. You could feel your own tears welling up seeing his distraught.

“I didn’t think it mattered.” You say softly, hoping to calm the situation.

“You didn’t think saying something like: ‘Oh hey Tommy, by the way I’m related to your worst enemy, who also looked a lot like you before he became a complete lunatic.’ Would matter!?!” His breathing is heavy as he suddenly slumps to the ground. You slowly kneel down next to him and stay there in silence for a bit as you work out your next words carefully.

“You’re right.” You start slowly. “I never meant to hurt you, and I should’ve said something a lot sooner then having you find out like this. Yes, you do look a lot like he did years ago, and maybe that did somewhat influence my view on you, but you’re also your own person and I can easily distinguish you away from Dr-him… You might’ve looked the same, but your still Tommy through and through and I wouldn’t want to change that for anything. I swear.” Its quiet between the two of you for a while, you almost wonder if Tommy had fallen asleep with how slow his breathing had gotten and the fact that he slowly leans his weight into you.

“I believe you.” You hear his muffled voice say. “You’ve been nothing but kind and helpful to me… I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so fast.” You wrap an arm around him for some extra comfort…

Drista (temporarily) joins the team:

“I’m just saying, at least here her chaos is more, you know… contained.” Foolish voices his worries, you just chuckle and give a reassuring pat on your godly brother’s arm.

“Relax, I’ll keep a close eye on her, besides I think a bit of wandering will do her some good and it’s not like we’ll be gone forever. Besides, I’m sure you could use the break from having to babysit her and watch your own children.” You reason, holding up Finley to him as if to exaggerate your point.

“I can hear you, you know!” You hear Drista shout.

“Oh yeah, and what of it?” You call back in a teasing manner, all you get it her sticking out her tongue from under her little mask. You chuckle and focus back on Foolish. After a long pause he sighs and gives you a nod before taking his child from you. You smile triumphantly and again turn to your other two siblings. “Hey, Tommy! Drista! Foolish agreed!Grab your things we’re gonna be leaving soon!” You call, easily gaining their attention.

“Wait, seriously? Foolish actually agreed? Sweet! I’ll be there in a minute!” Drista gives a small cheer before dashing off to grab some of her things for the road.

“Those two are going to be quite the handful.” Foolish gives one last subtle warning.

“Yeah yeah, what else is new.” You quip. Once Drista was all set you all say goodbye to Foolish and his kids before setting off on the road once more…

Reminiscing on the past:

While Drista agreed to help set up camp, you and Tommy went out into the forest to clear the area of mobs and maybe hunt some wild cows or sheep for dinner. The forest was eerily quiet, the sound of hooting making you jump until you see the barred owl who was the culprit of said noise, you respond to the creature with a few hoots of your own, it understood and silently flies off. You watch it fly between the trees, admiring its graceful flight until it’s out of sight (hey that rhymes), it brought you back to a simpler time when you were just kids, Dream being a barred owl hybrid always pridefully showing off his wings or trying to hide them when you or Drista tried to put things in it. Hide and seek was such a hard game to win whenever he was it, using his strong hearing to pick up just the sound of your breathing, not to mention the improved vision in darker lighting. It was awful when he had come back one day, a dark look in his eyes and his wings completely missing, you had tried to be supportive but you could see it clear as day. Whatever or whoever he had encountered changed something in him from that day forward and it still breaks your heart thinking about what went wrong and if there was anything you could’ve done to prevent it…

Confronting Dream:

“Step away from him!” You hiss dangerously, holding your crossbow so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Awww, but we were having fun. Right?” Dream taunts looking down at Tommy’s shaking form.

“I said step away!” You fire a warning shot into his arm, Dream hisses in pain but doesn’t show any signs of backing down. “Don’t make me do this.” You warn, hiding the waver in your voice as you load another arrow. He tilts his head at you curiously taking a step away from Tommy and towards you.

“You’re really going out of your way to protect him over family?”

“He’s just as much family to me as you are. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.” You hold strong, taking a quick glance at the shivering teen who was staring straight back at you shocked.

“Oh you will huh? Alright, show me what you’ve got!” With that Dream charges at you, you fire another arrow but he dodges that one and swings at you with his sword. You duck away and pull out a splash potion of weakness throwing it in Dream’s direction, he barely gets out of the way of the effects, you pull out a potion of strength for yourself only for the item to be ripped out of your grasp by the fishing rod you didn’t even realize Dream was carrying. You just knew he was smirking under the mask as he holds up the bottle and shakes it tauntingly at you, you huff and as you take this moment to load an arrow of harming into your crossbow. You curse your slower reflexes in comparison as he easily switches to his shield and blocks the arrow, quick on his feet he dashes into the foliage making you scan your surroundings for any sign of movement.

“(Y/n), look out!” You hear Tommy’s warning too late as you get pinned against a tree, and axe pressing into your neck. Despite the situation, your breathing is calm as you look into the the ever smiling mask, it makes you frown.

“Take it off.” You simply say.

“What?” This seems to catch Dream slightly off guard.

“Your mask, take it off. If you’re going to kill me, I want to at least see your real face one last time.” You say evenly. The world feels like it’s at a standstill and for a long moment Dream doesn’t more until slowly, hesitantly, he lifts a hand and removes the mask, revealing a scarred face with a wild look in his eyes. Your expression softens as you raise your own hand up and place it on his cheek, gently rubbing your thumb across it where a few fuzzy, white facial feathers are present, the last remaining evidence of his hybrid nature.

“Let ‘em go!” You hear Tommy shout.

“Tommy, don’t!” You say back, not breaking eye contact with Dream. You hear the teen fumble over his own words remain unmoving, you could finally see it, the hesitance, the sorrow.

“Stop.” Dream breaths out. You don’t reply, only staring back with a saddened look on your face. “Stop it!” He yells at you, a shake in his voice.

“Stop what?” You ask quietly.

“Stop looking at me like you actually still care! You hate me! I know you do, after everything I’ve done! So stop pretending and just say it!” He spits.

“Come on Dream,” you say softly, running your thumb over his cheek again. “You know I’d never say anything I didn’t mean. I’m a terrible liar after all.” With a loud cry, Dream summons his axe in hand and swings down.

“No-” Tommy yelps but stops short when he sees Dream had completely missed your head, the axe embedded in the trunk of the tree you were pressed against.

“It’s not fair…” He looks away from you in shame and when he looks back you’re no longer looking into the eyes of a madman but a broken one. For however long or short it was going to be, your brother was back and you weren’t going to waste the moment as you wrap him in as comforting of an embrace as you could.

“I missed you.” You whisper. He goes stiff from this but eventually returns the gesture.

“Missed you too.” He whispers back. When you let go he steps back awkwardly and looks over at Tommy who freezes up at this. “I know you have no right to forgive me, and I’m not asking for your forgiveness. But I’m sorry… for… for everything.” Tommy doesn’t drop his intense stare but gives a small nod of acknowledgment. “If you could do me one favour though. Always be there for (y/n). They work so hard to look out for others, sometimes they forget to look after themselves.”

“Yeah, I can-I can do that.” It was still tense but the promise was genuine, Dream then turns and begins to leave.

“Wait!” You call, apart of you still desperate to hold onto this moment. “Don’t you want to make a quick trip to camp and see Drista?”

“It’s better if she doesn’t see me, especially like this.” Is all he says before picking up his discarded mask and leaving without another word. There was so much more you would’ve wanted to say but you held your tongue back knowing whatever you’d say now wouldn’t mean much of anything anymore.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asks concerned, placing a hand on your shoulder. You place your own hand over his and give him a somber smile.

“I’ll be alright. Come on, lets head back to camp.” With that you both make your way back to your little base camp.

[kkusuka]

Haikyuu poly headcannons!! <33

 Pairs: Kageyama & Hinata, Oikawa & Iwaizumi, Ushijima & Tendo, Sakusa & Atsumu, Kurro & Kenma, and finally Bokuto & Akaashi. 

part 2

Sfw AND Nsfw 

Slight time skip spoilers!!!

let me know what you want to see next

word count: 2.6K I got a bit carried away. lol

FEMALE READER

Kageyama Tobio  and Hinata Shoyo

Sfw

It's a constant fight for attention

They are polar opposites, Hinata is warm and energetic while Kageyama is confused and awkward, but  they both love you so much it hurts.

How you got together was kind of a funny story, you and Hinata knew each other from middle school and reconnected when you met at a local mall in tokyo. So when you and Hinata started hanging out more he couldn't help but brag to Kageyama about it, which led to him wanting to meet you and thus began the year long fight for your love. 

You couldn't choose between them so they came to the decision that they would just share you!

Your dynamics are pretty simple, you spend as much time with whoever is not at practice at the time, lucky they have two completely different practice schedules, Hinata in the morning and Kageyama in the afternoon.

That meant cuddling with Kags in the morning and cooking lunch with Hinata in the afternoon. 

You guys also have a weekly date night! You have a rotation of who gets to choose what they want to do. 

Unsurprisingly Hinata likes volleyball inspired dates, but he also likes the movie and picnic dates!

Kageyama is a bit more romantic, shockingly (he read a dating book), like romantic dinners and late night walks , shopping, anything to see you happy.

They also love anything you want to do, stay in? They make popcorn for movies. Dinner? Where, what and when should they make a reservation. 

They are literally so whipped for you.

Nsfw

Oh~ ho ho~

I am a firm believer that these two are switches. 

Hinata is a bit more submissive than Kags (for the most part), but he has his moments. 

And i have this thing where Kags makes you and Hinata fuck while he watches biut votgh of you are power bottoms.

Toys toys toys

I'm talking double ended dildos and vibrators galore.

Punishments are usually for Hinata and consist of you riding Kags while he watches, and its absolute torture.

They also have nights where they have you alone and those are sweet and romantic, rose petals and candles. 

It's never boring <33

“Tobio, doesn't she look so pretty?” 

“God Shoyo you’ll cum in your pants if you grind like that” 

“ go fuck yourself on the fucking dldo like a slut” 

Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime 

Sfw

There are two ways that this happened

1. You grew up with them and slowly fell in love through your life, and you all got together in highschool

Or 

2. You met Oikawa in Argentina, literally fell in love at first sight, stars in your eyes. This led to him bringing you back to Japan, which led to you meeting “Iwa-chan” (who looked much more beautiful in person). After hanging out everyday for about 3 weeks Oikawa bright up the idea of sharing

And here you are! 

You guys are all similar but you share personal things with each boy

With oikawa you have the obsession with aliens and you too even have a beauty routine that you do every night before bed.

With Iwaizumi you, of course, make fun of Oikawa at every waking moment. But! You also do all different kinds of exercise with him. You have a monthly yoga class and a swim aerobics program every other tuesday! 

These two spoil you so much it's ridiculous.

Perfumes, jewelry, clothes and even gaming things.

They will get you anything even if you don't want it (and they are rolling in cash so it doesn't really matter.) 

Nsfw

Iwaizumi rules the bedroom.

And as much as Oikawa pretends to be the top, he falls apart the second you kiss him neck. 

Favorite position?

Simple. It can go two ways.

Oikawa laying on his back, Iwa fuking him into heaven and you sitting on his face OR you on your stomach ass up with Iwa between your legs and Oikawa's dick in your mouth. 

The only real times Oikawa is in you is when Iwazumi wants to see both of you be pathetic sluts, or when Oikawa is being punished, mostly cockwarming while he is tied and not able to thrust in you.

 Double penetration?

 Your punishment.

Whine and cry all you want neither of them are slowing down, this is really the only time Oikawa is dominant in the bedroom

“Aw, Tooru, look at her! So pathetic!”

“You look like two whores trying to fuck, Harder brats” 

“Oh! Iwa her throat gets tighter when you do that!” 

Ushijima Wakatoshi and Tendo Satori

Sfw

Oh bby how did you get so lucky?

You have the best of both worlds!

Tendo, who you can joke around and cook with.

And Ushijima, your pillar and voice of reason. 

This relationship was 100% started by Tendo. No question. He saw you and decided right then and there that you were his, and what kind of best friend would he be if he didn't share with Wakatoshi! 

Thank god you were willing to do this, it would have Broken Satori AND Wakatoshis heart :((

This WAS the best decision of your life. 

Your first date as a threesome was so cute, it started with walking around tokyo and you stopped and ate in a small cafe. You begged them to pay and they didn't let you so this became a game to see if you could ever find a way to pay before them.(you're still failing to this day) 

After the cafe they took you to a small beach that had a little volleyball net set up. Insert uwus here

They taught you how to play, the basics if you didn't already know, and you guys played around until it was 2am 

All of your dates are different but they either end like that or cuddling on the couch wachting movies. OR you know ;))

Nsfw

UHHH there are two ways this could go. 

You being absolutely ruined by these two. Both being pretty big, they easily overpower you. 

Tendo also has the obsession with being in your ass while ushijima rips your poor pussy apart. 

Sadist tendo also makes a slight appearance, not letting yu cum for hours then making you cum over and over and over again

Or 

Mr. Tendo controls what you and Toshi do! 

Trust me Wakatoshi is still controlling you every waking second, but having Tendo tell him what to do (being slightly unaware of what to do anyway) gets him off just as much as you. 

And when he’s feeling more adventurous, Tendo has kept you and Ushijima on literal leashes at his feet while he just chilled out. (i literally love this so much-)

You guys do a lot of exploring!

“Harder Toshi, the slut can take it”

“” we don't have enough dicks to fill all your holes” 

“Satori! Please!” “Shhh, floor whores don't get to talk” 

Sakusa Kiyoomi and Miya Atsumu

My #2 pair 

DAMN, i can't even put how whipped they are for you in words. 

You defiantly knew Sakusa first. 

You two met in the supermarket, much to his displeasure he had to shop for himself, it was the classic strangers to lovers trope 

You both reached for the same countertop cleaner! 

To both of your shock you touched his hand and immediately started to apologize to him (he couldn't even reply because he was so stunned by your beauty) 

He snapped back and started to interrogate you about what cleaning products you use, you both didn't even realize how much time passed with you just talking about how you clean.

Eventually you exchanged numbers and texted almost all day.  

This led to him texting you back every chance he had during practice breaks, but he never told you he was a professional volleyball players AND happened to be on one of the top teams in the country, (you found out when he randomly followed you on instagram)

Eventually he got sloppy and Atsumu looked at his phone and found your number! Aren't you lucky ;) almost immediately after he started to question Sakusa about you

Who is she?

Where did you meet?

Is she pretty?

Gimmie her number Omi, i wanna know her too!

Eventually Atsumu just stole his phone and started to non-stop call you. 

“Uh Kiyo? This guy keeps calling me and asking me questions about you.”

“Ignore it” 

It got so bad that when you officially met atsumu he had followed Sakusa to your meeting spot, and you hit it off! (much to Kiyoomi’s disdain) 

After a few months, and a lot of talks, all three of you entered a relationship!

Your dynamic was great! You were clean like Sakusa and fun like Atsumu!

Perfect!

Another spoiling group, it's like they just know what you want. It doesn't even matter what you think :// no take backs :))

Plus you have girl time when they are at practice, a good time to plan surprises ;)

You even got Atsumu into skin and hair care (kiyoomi approves) 

You are literally perfect (and the hottest couple in the planet) 

Nsfw

Sakusa is in control.

No question.

He wants ti fuck you? Done.

He wants to watch you play with yourself. Already rubbing circles on your clit. 

He wants you to ride Atsumu until you squirt? You're bouncing on Atsumu Cumming and cumming. 

Believe it or not Sakusa AND Atsumu love messy blowjobs, seeing you slobber all over yourself and their cocks is the most beautiful thing to them. 

Atsumu also has the dirtiest most vulgar mouth on earth, will not spare your feelings one bit. 

But that doesn't even measure up to how Kiyoomi speaks to you. He has no shame is telling you that they are going to let everyone on the team fuck you senseless. 

Sakusa also loves to punish you and Atsumu for literally anything, he will tie you to each other and put vibrators in your holes and just watch you  two desperately grind on each other to get relief that just won't come. 

(they both love to ruin your orgasm too) 

“Go Whore i know you can bounce faster than that” 

“Look at her Omi! Isnt she the best little cumdump? Yes you are! Yes you are!” (pls he treats you like a pet) 

“Hey Miya. Wouldn't shugo just love to have her on her knees for him? I think we should let her sometime” 

I would do anything for these two- 

Kuroo Tetsuro and Kozume Kenma

Oh? You're the most spoiled pet in the world?

You definitely grew up together, aka you've had both of them wrapped around your finger since you were 8.

 You guys probably started dating after you accidentally let it slip that you were in love with the both of them. 

After you all confessed and talked for hours, you were officially dating!

Not much has changed, but they were more affectionate and loving and more physical with you. 

Your dates are really random, all the varying schedule and all. 

They take you to anime cafes and gaming cafes and ALL the different cafes. 

They always tell you you don't have to work but you feel bad so you started a makeup channel on youtube! And of course you were a sensation! 

You and Kenma make little collab videos and were voted as the cutest couple of the year! 

But that doesn't1 mean you aren't involved in Kuroos life just as much! 

You help him get ready every morning, he just “can't” tie his tie even after doing it since highschool. 

You make him a unique bento everyday! 

You even buy him little chemistry sets whenever you see that a new model was released!

Plus living with two cuddle bugs is a dream for any girl ;)

Nsfw 

The way that both of them are into cockwarming- 

Whenever Kenma is not streaming he wants you to sit on his cock, just be a good kitten and do it. 

No worries! Between rounds he'll start to pound you for as long as he can, but it's never enough  for you to cum :// too bad you'll just have to wait until he’s done, or when Kuroo some home. 

With Kuroo it's usually when he is doing more work in his home office. This is pure torture.

He won’t even pay attention to you until HE wants to cum. 

To add on to that neither of them are afraid of fucking you infront of people. 

Kenma has no fear of keeping you at his feet while he streams so you can suck him off whenever he wants. 

One time he was on a zoom call with his PR team and they had no idea you were deepthroating his cock under where the camera could see. 

Kuroo is the worst with this too, he’ll start fucking you when he knows he ahs a work call in a few minutes, so in the middle of fucking he’ll just answer the phone and make you shut up :((

Both of them together? You’re fucked. (literally haha) 

Kenma a bottom , 100%, just not as much as you.

Sex mostly means kuroo fucking you and sucking kenma off. 

“I wonder if everyone would still follow you if they  knew what a slut you are” 

“Kitten you have to be quiet for Daddy now, this call is important” 

“Look at that kenma, she’s cumming all over the place while drooling all over you!” 

Bokuto Kotaro and Akaashi Keji

The owl nest?  Yes Ma’am.

You were akaashis girlfriend first, but that meant you were practically dating Bokuto anyway. 

Akaashi? He loved it, you were just so cute when you tled to Kotaro! 

When he got excited, you got excited and you were just the cutest two babies in the world!

 The way you would talk for hours about nonsense and laugh about the stupidest things. 

Slowly but surely Akaashi braugh Bokuto into the relationship, and you had no objections! 

It started with small things like movie nights that turned into sleepovers that became full dates! 

Dates? Oh man you go on one almost every night! 

The movies! Bookstores! Restaurants! 

Even to the volleyball gym.

Sometimes Akaashi takes you to Bokuto’s games and you two just Cheer your lungs out!

This seems crazy but one time on your anniversary that took you to an owl farm! 

It was probably the funnest night of your life, and that was it all three of you knew that this was how you wanted to spend the rest of your lives. 

Nsfw 

Bokuto might be the driving force but Akaashi is the real mastermind behind the bedroom life. 

Sex mostly includs being railed by Bokuto for hours while Akaashi whispers sweet praises in your ears, telling you how good your gtaking Bokuto. 

Akaashi is also a firm believer in punishing people with toys,aka Bokuto getting ahead of himself and ignoring Akaashis commands which lands him tied up and a vibrator pressed to his sild until his orgass are dry :)

 Of course you are no better, cumming before your told or vene worse masterbating without permission. 

That lands you with a bunny vibrator, unable to move and just watching as Akasshi fucks Bokuto with your favorite dildo :( 

But if you'd just listen this would have never happened, just promise not to do it again! 

“Keji please, pease, wanna cum s-so bad” 

“Gee, you're just sucking him in huh? After all this time you still want more!” 

“You are just the prettiest little thing huh.” 

[jikookiekosmos]

Can You Feel Me || jjk

➥Pairing: best friend!jungkook/reader, stripper!jungkook/reader

➥Summary: It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did: you slept with your best friend, Jungkook, and now you’re feeling confused. You want to take your mind off of things, so what do you do? Hire a stripper, of course! But when you leave the hiring to your roommate, you end up getting more than you bargained for.

➥Genre: best friends to lovers, angst, smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Content Warnings: making out, marking/biting, dry humping, reader is blindfolded for part of it, jungkook is acting as a stripper (reader has no idea to start with), dirty talk, slight choking/breath play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cursing (fuck is said a lot), oral (f. receiving), fingering, jungkook has a big dick, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), cumming inside, praise, aftercare (they take a shower, lots of cuddling), jungkook is actually the sweetest

➥Words: ~8.6k

A/N: this is the follow up chapter to Be Good For Me, but it can also be read as a stand-alone fic. 

Thank you to Kenz for always supporting me and inspiring me to be a better writer. ❤

Also, thank you to anyone who reads this, I hope you enjoy it~

➥Masterlist

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

It’d been almost a week since you’d slept with Jungkook. You hadn’t talked much – which was 100% your fault since you kept dodging most of his calls and texts. But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

The look on his face when you told him the morning after that it meant nothing to you and that you both should essentially forget about it (spoiler: you couldn’t) was all you could see when you tried to sleep at night. He looked so crestfallen and it broke your heart.

But you kept telling yourself you were doing this for the best.

In your mind, he was confused. You thought that maybe he slept with you because he was horny and you just conveniently happened to be there. And hell, maybe that’s why you did it, too! You guys were just two consenting, horny adults, having a good time. There didn’t have to be feelings involved.

Which is what you kept instilling in your brain every day for the last 6 days. It didn’t make anything better. You kept thinking about how his hands felt on you when he was holding you up, how he took care to not hurt you and kept making sure you were ok with everything that was happening. How he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. It was driving you crazy.

Your roommate was tired of seeing you mope around your apartment, grumbling things about how you were treating this like a break-up and just needed to work it out with Jungkook already. She knew Jungkook, too, not as well as you, of course, but enough. She also tried to convince you that pushing him away wasn’t the answer but you were stubborn and didn’t want to listen.

It was Thursday night when she brought up the idea of hiring a stripper to help you forget.

“You’re kidding,” was your response as you closed your book you’d been reading, curled up on the couch. The look on her face told you she absolutely was not joking.

“Nope, I think it’s a great idea, and if you’re down you can just leave everything to me. I know a guy,” she responded nonchalantly and you just stared at her. When she didn’t elaborate, you sighed and agreed. Hell, hiring a stripper may be more fun that you thought. And you’d have a whole day at work the next day to think about it.

Work the following day went by much faster than usual, because you had been surprisingly buzzing with excitement about the whole stripper scenario that was supposed to go down later. You had decided to leave the hiring of the stripper up to your roommate and she had yet to actually tell you who she hired.

When she finally did, though, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Okay so like I said, I know a guy, but his style is a little...unique.”

“That sounds kinda sketch,” you said with a tiny frown. You were still excited but also…it sounded extremely sus.

“No I promise he’s really good! His whole thing is just that you can’t see him, so you’ll have to be blindfolded while he does his routine. He has great reviews though, people say it brings this whole new level to the experience.” She grinned and it honestly sounded crazy enough to be true, and you figured your generation was known to be into crazy shit so you guessed it wouldn’t be too bad…

You sighed in defeat. “Alright fine, fuck it. I trust you.”

“Yay! I think you’re really gonna love this guy.” Her beaming face was enough to melt your worries away. That was, until you understood what she just said.

“Wait, why do you keep saying ‘you’ like I’m gonna be the only one. I thought this was supposed to be a way for both of us to relax after this hell of a week.” You were confused about why she kept talking like she wasn’t going to be around-

“Nah, I actually have some stuff to do so this one’s all you.”

“Wait, no-“ you started to protest, but there was suddenly a knock at the door.

“Oh, that’s probably him. You just wait here, I’ll be right back.” She ignored your shock, already heading to open the door.

“Hey,” you yelled after her, “we’re not done talking about this.”

“We are for now,” was her response before she disappeared.

When she returned a little bit later, you were still where she left you, this time with your arms crossed.

“I don’t know about this,” you expressed your worry again.

“Y/N. Please just trust me on this. It’s gonna be great, I promise.” She smiled and you couldn’t deny how that smile made you feel like everything would be alright. She really was a good friend to you, even if you didn’t understand her at times.

“Okay, so he’s all ready to come in and start. We just need something to blindfold you with.” She started looking around the room.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” You left to go grab just what you needed from your room. You grabbed a tie - funnily enough, it was one of Jungkook’s. He was always leaving clothes at your apartment along with various other things he owned. You clutched the tie to your chest, trying to push your confusing feelings back down. Now wasn’t the time for that.

When you got back, your roommate excitedly turned you around, preparing to blindfold you. As you waited you held your breath, and when you felt the fabric on your face, you tried to open your eyes. All you saw was black and for a moment it actually kind of frightened you. 

Your roommate told you to wait so she could go get a chair, and when she returned she held onto your hand which calmed you down some, guiding you so you could sit down. You heard her walk away to open the door, and soon after you heard her come back with what sounded like another set of footsteps.

“Alright well I’ll leave you guys to it. Don’t break anything in our apartment or I swear to God I won’t pay you.” Her tone was joking, and she almost sounded like she might know this person, if you didn’t know any better. She was probably doing it to make you feel better, though, and you had to admit it helped.

Once you heard her footsteps fade away, you were suddenly very aware that you were in the room blindfolded with a complete stranger. And as much as that fact scared you, it also excited you. Which probably wasn’t supposed to happen, but you know.

“So,” you started awkwardly. You heard the other person make a sound that was something like a sharp intake of breath but it was honestly hard to tell. Were they nervous?

They cleared their throat. “Your friend seems nice,” was the first thing they said, and it was so unexpected that you couldn’t help but laugh.

His voice also sounded really hot, it was deep and had a faint accent to it and you were somewhat sad you couldn’t see who the voice belonged to because you just knew he had to be attractive.

“Yeah, she’s the best. She also said you came highly recommended which I gotta say,” you tilted your head to the side, in what you hoped might be his direction, “I’m kinda curious to see why that is.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and mysterious. 

“Well, I’ll be more than happy to show you.” More footsteps as he got closer now, and soon you could feel him close to you.

“What’s your name, babygirl?”

Oh fuck, you were in trouble. Fuck, that pet name, what the fuck-

“Y/N,” you stuttered out. It felt like he was standing right in front of you now.

“Mmm,” he hummed, that accent threatening to drive you crazy, “pretty name for a pretty woman.” You felt something brush against your knee, making you jerk slightly in the chair.

Yeah, you were liking this blindfold thing a little too much, probably.

You laughed. “Please, you can’t even see all of me to know that.”

“Don’t have to,” came his hushed response. “I can see everything I need to-“

He paused for a moment and when he spoke again, it was right by your ear.

“And what I’m seeing right now, tells me that you are very attractive.” His lips ghosted along the shell of your ear, never touching, and the teasing was making you hot.

‘For the love of god,’ you thought to yourself, ‘please do not already get aroused by this stranger in your home-‘

“That’s very kind of you, stranger who has a very attractive voice and is probably attractive in general.” There came that damned chuckle again.

“Hm, I’m glad you think so. How about I show you why I do my job the way I do now, yeah?” He sounded a lot closer now too, and you definitely felt something in front of your legs, probably his own.

“However, if at any point I do anything you’re not comfortable with, I need you to tell me, ok?” Even with that hot sounding voice you could still hear the concern. Which, of course, made him even more hot and you were so sad you couldn’t see him-

“Yes, of course, I’ll let you know. I’m fine right now, I’m enjoying all of this.”

“Good,” you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “First,” he continued, “blindfolding is effective because it takes away one of your senses.”

“Which means-“ his hand brushed against your cheek, “all of your other senses are heightened. Everything is more intense.” You felt as his fingers trailed from your cheek down to your neck before slightly curving around your throat.

You let out a quick gasp, your arousal from his actions immediate.

He gently squeezed, not really applying any pressure at all, it was more of just a touch, but it made you wet all the same. You tried to discreetly rub your thighs together because you didn’t want this happening so soon.

“I-I see,” you stuttered, his fingers still wrapped around your throat. He was applying feather light touches there, while simultaneously trailing the fingers from his other hand down your bare arm, since you were still wearing a sleeveless dress from earlier.

“So even though you can’t see me,” you heard him say as he removed his fingers from your neck, making you almost whine at the loss. “You can feel everything I’m doing to you that much more.”

It was then that you felt him close to your lap, and before you could process what was happening, he grinded down, close enough to where you could almost feel him, just as he said.

It felt like he was rolling his hips, and it was like he could see what you were thinking, because he used his hands to guide both of yours to his hips so you could feel exactly what he was doing.

“Wow, you’re really good at this,” you breathed out without thinking, and you were rewarded with another beautiful sounding chuckle from the man now above you. He sounded so hot, holy fuck-

“I’m glad you think so, because there’s plenty more where that came from,” was his response, and before you could question what he meant, he ground down again and this time you did feel it.

You bit your lip to hold in a quiet moan that threatened to slip out. Suddenly, a hand gripped your chin and tugged it down a little, making you stop biting your lip.

“Nuh uh, none of that, babygirl,” fuck there it was again, no pet name had ever had that effect on you before.

He was still rolling his hips and from what you could feel with your hands and in other places he seemed like a real fucking expert at it. It was getting harder and harder to hold in any sounds, but you really didn’t want to let any out just yet.

“I want to hear all the pretty sounds you can make,” he said, and he was just hovering above your lips now. God this stranger was going to be the death of you.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, turning your head to the side as you tried to concentrate on something other than the feeling of him so close to your clothed core.

“What made you want to hire a stripper, anyway,” the mystery man surprised you by changing the subject. “Your friend said something about you were having a bad week?”

All the memories of everything involving Jungkook came flooding back and it was the last thing you wanted to think about right now. But, you couldn’t blame him for being curious, and since he was showing you such a good time, it’d be rude to not answer him.

“Yeah, it’s ­– fuck – it’s been a week.” He was still rolling his hips and you made no attempt to stop him. If the small pants you could hear from him every now and then above you were anything to go by, he seemed to be enjoying it, too.

You wondered how much you should tell him, and you figured since he was a stranger, pouring your heart out wouldn’t really do too much bad to anyone.

“I did something bad, and it’s been hard to forget about it. I-I hurt someone I have really strong feelings for,” when you finished your sentence, he stopped for just a second before he kept going.

“Yeah? And that’s what made you want to go and hire a stripper to take your mind off of things?”

You nodded, your thoughts jumbled. “If I could take everything back I would, but it was one of those things – you ever think you’re not good enough for someone? I mean, hopefully you haven’t ever thought that you weren’t worth it because you sound amazing, but-“ you were cut off by the feeling of lips suddenly pressing against your neck, sucking lightly. You let out a small gasp, the feeling definitely more intense than it should’ve been.

You reached out involuntarily, and thankfully you found what you were looking for: his shoulders. He had broad shoulders and from what you could feel he seemed quite muscular. And god you wished you could see him.

“You’re more than enough, for anyone,” he said as he continued trailing down your neck toward your shoulder. His voice was quieter then, and almost sounded familiar…

You had Jungkook on your brain though, so that’s probably why you were imagining that.

“Do people pay you to say things they wanna hear alongside making them feel good,” you asked jokingly.

“Sometimes. But this one was on the house, babygirl,” you could feel him speaking the word against your neck as he continued placing kisses, almost like he was trying to brand your skin with it.

You couldn’t help it. You let out a small moan and heard him chuckle right by your ear.

“Ah, there it is. Seems like I’m finally doing my job right, huh,” that deep, deep voice was filling your head and all you could think about was -

- still Jungkook.

Now, this stripper in your apartment just doing his best was a great distraction, but lately almost all of your thoughts had been filled with Jungkook and how badly you had fucked up. You guessed the man above you could tell the shift in your mood, because he stopped everything he was doing.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hm,” you muttered back weakly.

“What’s on your mind?”

You laughed. “Why, you curious?”

“Sure. But also,” you gasped as he started rolling his hips again, this time with more force than before. Instead of just feeling him, you felt something press against you. And if it’s what you thought it was, that made you even more excited.

“I’m here to show you a good time. So if you’re thinking about anything that’s going to upset you, I’m going to change that right now.”

He was essentially grinding down right against your clit now, and since your dress was thin you could feel everything. You let out a whimper because you didn’t have a choice.

“Oh my god, Ju- just do whatever you want to.” You had started to say a name - his name - and thankfully saved yourself in time.

At least, that’s what you had hoped.

He stopped moving, and it was then that you knew you’d fucked up.

“Babygirl?”

You gulped. “Y-yes?’

He slowly ground down and you felt something very hard press against your core. It felt amazing and you tried to lift yourself up to feel it again. His fingers were wrapping around your throat once more, keeping you from moving.

“It sounded a lot like you were about to say a name then,” he continued, drumming his fingers along your neck, squeezing every so often. His tone was low, dark, and sounded dangerous.

You gulped again. “N-no that’s not-“

He cut you off by another squeeze around your throat, this time with more pressure than before. You gasped, and you swear you heard him let out a soft groan.

“You know,” he said as he placed a kiss around your collarbone, “you can’t see me. So, if you’re thinking about someone making you feel good, you can call me by their name. If it helps.”

His logic made sense but also how weird would you feel calling this stranger Jungkook’s name? Your thoughts were indeed simply all about Jungkook right now, but would it be really ok to do that?

As you contemplated, he grinded down again, making you moan.

“What do you think, babygirl?” You started rolling your own hips as best you could in the position you were in. “How about you let me hear that name fall from those pretty lips of yours, hm?”

“I- are you sure?” Your eyes were squeezed shut from the pleasure that was building up, despite not being able to see anything due to the blindfold.

“Yes, if it’ll make you feel good, call me whatever you want, whoever you want.”

You could feel his lips hovering over yours again, and one particular thrust had you reeling and losing control before you could realize it.

“Jungkook,” you said it barely above a whisper, your lips brushing against his as you did so. His fingers were still wrapped around your throat, and he squeezed them with the most pressure he’d done for the whole night. You moaned again.

“Fuck, I knew you’d sound so pretty.” He suddenly stopped moving and you couldn’t feel him anymore. You started moving your head side to side to try and find him.

It was then that you felt yourself being lifted up and turned around, before you felt yourself sitting down again. He placed your hands on what you guessed were his shoulders, and you realized then that you had to be straddling him.

Listen, you’d never hired a stripper before, so you weren’t sure how all this worked. You didn’t know if they got intimate, and if they did, how intimate they got. You also weren’t sure if it was just different for everyone.

But whatever was happening now, he seemed to definitely be enjoying it, and you knew you were. And not seeing him was suddenly a blessing, because now all you could think about as you were straddling this ridiculously-attractive-sounding man, was the boy with the bunny smile that stole your heart.

Even if you realized it too late.

He used his hands that were now around your waist to roll you forward. You had momentarily forgotten how dresses work, and since you were straddling him now, you were rolling against him with just your panties as a barrier from his figure under you.

“Fuck,” you let your head hang as the pleasure washed over you, and with the sensitivity you felt due to your senses being heightened, you would absolutely cum all over this stranger in your apartment if you weren’t careful.

He, however, seemed very hard underneath you, so you guessed he didn’t mind much.

“Can you feel me, babygirl,” he asked breathlessly, panting as you kept moving against him. His small noises were almost driving you insane, and all you could see behind your eyelids was how Jungkook looked when you were on your knees for him that night.

You were also really grateful Jungkook never called you babygirl because you’d still probably be in your bed with him even now, almost a week later.

You nodded, moving faster on your own accord letting out moans as quietly as possible. Soon he started to let out sounds that matched your own, and it spurred you on to continue.

He trailed his fingers along your neck, which made you shudder in his hold. You heard him let out a soft chuckle and before you could ask why, his hand wrapped around your throat again.

Except this time, instead of just squeezing to apply pressure, he pulled you closer to him by the hold he had on your neck. He was basically manhandling you while you were straddling his lap blindfolded and holy fuck were you enjoying it.

“Do I make you feel good,” he asked against your lips, giving them a small peck, as if to test the waters. You nodded again, panting as you could feel your release approaching quickly.

“Jungkook,” you let the name roll off your tongue again because fuck it, why not, at this point. He groaned and squeezed around your neck, making you gasp.

“Please,” you breathed out. You felt him drum his fingertips against the pulse point in your neck.

“Please what,” he all but growled out, that deep accent as strong as ever. His voice seemed a little more strained now as he was coming undone too, but he was holding it together a lot better than you were.

You placed your hand on top of his and squeezed. “More, please,” you said weakly, hoping he’d understand.

“Fuck,” was the response you got, before he applied more pressure. It was getting harder to breathe, but never to the point where you felt like you were in danger or it hurt. He was giving you just enough of what you wanted, and it was bringing you to the edge very fast.

“You look so sexy like this, Y/N, fuck-“ he broke off and he definitely sounded a lot like he was losing his composure now.

“Jungkook, fuck, I-“ you stuttered as you kept rolling your hips on top of him as he guided you with one hand on your waist, the other still around your throat, a feeling you were now fond of.

“Come on, let go for me,” he spurred you on, and you knew it wouldn’t be long now. Especially not when you could feel him panting again by your ear.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” he said as he gently bit down on your earlobe, a harsh contrast from many of his other actions tonight.

“Fuck, Jungko-“ you were cut off as his lips crashed against your own , thankfully, because he swallowed all the sounds you made as you were experiencing one hell of an orgasm. His hands were gripping your hips so tight you felt like he could break you if you let him.

And maybe you should.

He was still panting below you, letting out soft moans as you started slowing down. You didn’t want to be the only one to reach your high, though, so you kept going.

“F-fuck, Y/N, you don’t have to,” his voice was low and didn’t have as strong an accent now, but you couldn’t focus on that. All you could focus on right now was returning the favor for this stranger that just gave you one of the best orgasms you’d ever had.

“It’s your turn to cum for me now,” you said against his lips, since neither of you had moved from earlier. He groaned into the kiss and you felt yourself becoming overstimulated at this point, but if you kept getting to hear the sounds he was making, you’d deal with it as long as you needed do.

“Fuck, babygirl,” he moaned and you swear you almost came again right then. You couldn’t help it, you wanted to see him, needed to see him. You wanted to watch this man beneath you fall apart.

“Can I see you,” you asked timidly, still rolling your hips forward, trying to bring him to that same euphoric state you’d just reached yourself.

His response was…not what you expected. Instead of a simple yes or no, he started slowing your movements until you were completely still on his lap. Had you done something wrong?

“Y/N,” he called your name. That voice…no way, it couldn’t be…

“Jungkook?” Your voice cracked as you called out his name, this time not out of pleasure, but out of genuine confusion.

You felt him remove his hands from around your waist, going now to the back of the tie still blindfolding you. You felt him untie it and suddenly it fell from your face and into your lap. You blinked to readjust your eyes to the light, and then you looked at his face.

Your heart sank.

“Jungkook,” you asked again. You saw him gulp and nod, so many emotions hidden behind his big doe eyes that you were sure mirrored your own.

“Hey” he tried offering you a small smile. Under normal circumstances, you would have returned it. But this was not a normal circumstance; in fact, it was anything but.

His hands hand gone back down to your waist, but he wasn’t touching you again yet. Which, honestly, you were grateful for right now because you had no idea what the fuck was going on.

When you made no attempt to speak, his eyes widened. “I can explain-”

“That would be a good idea,” you responded, trying to keep your tone under control because you really, really did not want to fight with him again. You’d been beating yourself up over how you treated him the last time you saw him, and the idea of pushing him away even more hurt your chest.

He sighed, the sound almost coming out shaky. “I just- I wanted to fix things. I know what you said about what happened between us, and that it didn’t mean anything,” hearing your owns words coming from him hurt more than you thought it would.

He looked into your eyes now, taking your hands into his own, rubbing gentle circles onto the backs of them with his thumbs. “But I know that’s not true. We’ve been so close for so long now, I can tell when you’re fighting something, especially when you fight your own feelings.”

You could feel yourself tearing up at his words, and is if on cue, he reached up and brushed his thumb across your cheekbone, catching a tear that hadn’t quite fallen yet.

“I know you’re scared,” his voice was soft, soothing. “Y/N, I’m scared, too. Fuck, I’m so scared of doing something wrong, so terrified of hurting you.” He cupped your face in his hand, making you instinctively lean into his touch.

“Jungkook, I just don’t know…” you trailed off with a sigh. And you were telling the truth: you didn’t know. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way. You knew that you loved him, that you would do anything for him, and that you never wanted to hurt him.

So why was this so difficult?

His eyes held yours and suddenly he looked more determined. “You may not know right now, and that’s ok. But,” he added as he leaned his forehead against yours, “I know.”

You held your breath while you waited for him to continue.

“I know that I’ve loved you for a long time. And not just as your best friend, but I’ve loved you for the person you are. The way you laugh, the way you smile, every little thing about you is something that I adore.”

Every word that fell from his lips made the feeling in your chest more overpowering, to the point where you felt like you may burst. Jungkook was confessing to you. Something you’d only ever considered would happen in another lifetime, something you’d wanted to hear for so long.

But you convinced yourself a long time ago that it would never happen, and that’s why you’d pushed him away.

Jungkook sighed after a few moments of silence, pulling away from you and giving you a sad, small smile. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I understand.”

He couldn’t be any further from the truth. You loved him with everything you had, and you wanted to show him. No more holding back, no more fighting feelings. The only thing that mattered right now was Jungkook and that you were here with him.

You knew you had to act fast, or else he may try to leave and you didn’t know what would happen after that. He was looking down so when you suddenly moved to hold his face in your hands, his eyes widened with surprise.

You kissed him with all the sincerity you could muster, hoping he could feel how much you loved him with the way your lips were moving against his. His arms wound around your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss and letting out a content sigh.

You pulled back for a moment to catch your breath. “I love you, too.” You felt him smile against your lips, but before he could kiss you again, you pulled back more.

“I love you even if you pretend to be a stripper and have me blindfolded to where I can’t tell it’s you.” His laughter made you smile, your chest feeling warm upon hearing that sweet sound.

“Jeon Jungkook, honesty what the fuck were you-” he cut you off by kissing you again, the kiss soft at first but quickly turning intense when he bit down on your bottom lip, swallowing a small moan from you.

“I promise I’ll explain later,” he started mouthing at your neck, your hands instinctively finding purchase in his hair. “For now, though, how about you let me do my job and take care of you, hm? Babygirl,” he added the last part as he thrusted upward to meet you again, the feeling still enough to overwhelm you since it hadn’t been that long.

“Fuck, I love it when you call me that,” your eyes closed as he stated to mark your neck, no longer holding back. He chuckled and you felt the vibration against your skin.

“I can tell,” he added, moving his hands up and down your sides as he continued rolling his hips forward. You wanted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face, so you met his thrusts with one of your own, pushing down hard enough to earn a groan from him.

“You know,” you added, “there’s probably somewhere much more comfortable where we can continue this.” He grinned at your suggestion.

“I like the sound of that. Lead the way.”

You moved to get off of his lap, but before you could do anything, he got up from the chair, picking you up at the same time and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your arms wound around his neck.

“I thought you said you wanted me to lead,” you quipped, raising your eyebrow. He gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“I just need you to tell me which bed I’m going to fuck you on, and I’ll handle the rest,” was his response, and his words had you becoming wet again at an embarrassingly fast rate.

“My bed, preferably.” He started walking to the staircase then, and you thought he may put you down, but as always, Jungkook managed to surprise you when you least expected it.

You knew he was strong. Jungkook liked to work out, he liked to stay fit. But him being able to carry you up an entire flight of stairs while mouthing at your neck, not bumping into anything along the way or missing a single stair? It had you feeling dizzy.

When the two of you reached your bedroom, Jungkook pushed you against the wall so that he could still hold you up and open the door with his free hand. The feeling of being caged between him and the wall was doing no favors for your arousal, and your panties were practically sticking to you now. You wanted them off, and soon.

You figured that it wouldn’t be much longer before you’d be getting your wish.

When the door was opened, Jungkook walked both of you through it before placing you on the bed, hovering over you as he captured your lips with his once again. You pulled him closer as his thigh parted your legs. He pressed against your core, making you gasp.

“I love you,” he said as he kissed down your neck, each kiss leaving you feeling like your skin was on fire. “Let me take care of you.”

You watched as he kept moving down until he was situated with his head between your legs, staring up at you as pulled up the skirt of your dress and played with the hem or your panties.

“Let me make you feel good,” he said in that same low tone from earlier, placing a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh. He looked at you now like he was asking for permission. You nodded, desperate for him to touch you again.

He started sliding your panties down your legs until they were around your ankles, removing them completely before tossing them over his shoulder. His eagerness made you giggle, causing him to look up at you with a smirk.

“What’s so funny, hm,” he asked, massaging your thighs but not yet providing you with any relief where you wanted it.

“Nothing, just you.” He hummed but let it be, inching closer now to your core, close enough you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“You’re already so wet for me, babygirl.” There was that pet name again, the one that drove you insane, and you suddenly weren’t sure if you’d be making it out of this bedroom anytime soon.

“Jungkook, please,” you didn’t mean to let out a whine, but the sound that just came from you sure sounded a lot like one. Jungkook chuckled.

“As you wish,” he answered, giving your clit a quick lick that had you arching your back. He’d barely done anything yet and you were already overwhelmed.

Without a warning, he started tonguing at your entrance, moving it in and out slowly, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them apart as you were shaking.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you called out and your hands buried themselves in his hair. You felt more-so than heard him moan.

“You taste so good,” he said before he continued, going faster now. You chanced looking down at him and the sight made you shudder.

He was staring up at you, his lips wrapped around your clit, dark hair falling somewhat into his eyes. He looked like pure sin and you wanted him to devour you. And, judging by how he seemed to be enjoying himself, it looked like that’s what he wanted to do as well.

You felt him gently prod a finger at your entrance as he started licking your clit faster. You were more than wet enough to accommodate his long fingers, but as always, he had to make sure you were ok before doing anything.

“Tell me if it hurts, ok,” he was looking up at you again, his eyes focused on your face. You smiled.

“Kook, you act like I’ve never had anything inside me before,” you joked with him. He smirked.

“Just making sure,” he said as he plunged two fingers inside of you, the motion making you breathless. His long fingers could easily reach spots you couldn’t and the pleasure had you gushing even more.

“Oh my god,” you moaned out when he curled his fingers, finding your g-spot almost immediately.

He continued licking and sucking at your clit again, now trying to match the rhythm he had going with his fingers. Your hips were starting to move so much that he had to hold them down with his unoccupied arm.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged, hands pulling on his hair again, making him groan. He went faster now, and you knew that if you didn’t stop him soon, you’d be cumming in no time.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna- if you keep doing that I’m-,” the pleasure was so intense that you were having trouble forming sentences, your warning not coming out.

He understood, though, and that just made him go faster.

“Cum for me, babygirl,” he said it breathlessly, making sure to speed up his actions enough to push you over that edge.

You shuddered violently as you came for the second time that night, a string of moans and Jugnkook’s name leaving your lips as you rode out your high with his fingers still inside of you.

Once you started to calm down, he carefully pulled his fingers out and you watched as he sucked the fingers into his mouth before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, coming back up to kiss you again. You could feel how hard he was as he was pressed against your thigh.

“It’s my turn to take care of you now,” you told him in a soft tone right by his ear, cupping him and being rewarded with a moan as you did.

He leaned up to take off his shirt, your hands going to work removing his jeans. When he had shed all of his clothing, he pulled your dress off as well, taking care to not hurt you in the process, despite his eagerness to see you naked before him once more.

He was sitting on his haunches now in front of you, pushing his hair out of his face as he looked down at you. You couldn’t help but moan as you looked at him.

He wasn’t just looking at you with lust, however; he was looking at you with so much love that you felt a warmth spread throughout your whole body.

“Come here,” you opened your arms, “please. Need to feel you,” you added and he smiled. He moved closer then, stroking himself, his cock leaking precum as he rubbed the head against your still soaked folds.

You both knew that you were on the pill and that you both were always safe with any previous sexual partners you’d had, so you had no qualms with him being inside of you unprotected and neither did he.  

You always told yourself that this type of sex was something you wanted to experience the first time with someone you truly loved, and it looked like now was the time.

He pulled you further down the bed so he could line himself up with your entrance, just barely pushing in. He looked at you and it seemed like he was holding back.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, “I need you to tell me if it hurts, ok? I’m gonna go in slow-“

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you encouraged him. You knew he was big – you remembered from when you’d taken him in your mouth that night – so you were aware of what you were in for. “I promise I’ll let you know.”

You ran your hand lovingly over his tattoos that extended from his shoulder all the way down his arm and over his hand as he readjusted his grip on your thigh. You gave him a nod and it seemed to be the last bit of encouragement he needed.

He pushed in and all but knocked the breath out of you. You weren’t sure when the last time you’d had something, or someone, so big inside of you – and you realized the answer may have actually been never.

He was stretching you out in a way that faintly hurt due to overstimulation from you having cum recently, but the look on his face and the sounds he was making made you forget all about that. His lips were parted, eyes half-lidded as he looked down at you. He licked his lips as he pushed in further, letting out a strained moan.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” he groaned as he finally bottomed out. His eyes were closed now and he didn’t make any attempt to move, probably so you could adjust to his size, but you wanted to tease him a little. You clenched around him and felt him twitch inside you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hung his head, hair falling into his eyes again. “Shit, don’t do that or I’m really gonna have a hard time holding back.”

“Then don’t,” you told him, clenching around him again. His grip on your thighs tightened.

He opened his eyes again and was looking at you know, his stare intense. You knew you were in for it now.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he growled, suddenly pulling out and slamming back into you with a force that had you shifting up the bed. Each thrust left you gasping, unable to form any sounds as the pleasure washed over you at a degree you’d never felt before.

“You feel so good around me,” Jungkook moaned out, his pace increasing as he kept pounding into you. He pushed your knees up to your chest so he could get closer to you, the new angle leaving you a moaning, panting mess beneath him.

He was close enough to you now that you could wrap your arms around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades every few thrusts as the pleasure intensified. He was panting by your ear now, saying your name so sweetly, making you clench around him each time.

You could feel the familiar heat building up in your stomach again, albeit not as strong as before since you’d already cum a few times tonight, but it was still strong enough. It seemed like Jungkook was getting close now, too, and you wanted to help him over that edge.

As he felt your walls tightening around him, he leaned his head back, cursing before coming down to kiss you harshly. He was moaning into your mouth now, and you were swallowing almost every beautiful sound he made.

“I won’t last much longer,” he panted out, his kisses and thrusts becoming more sloppy.

“Me too, baby, me too,” you pulled him impossibly closer, wanting to feel him as much as you could. You saw as his brows furrowed together and listened as his moans started becoming louder and more frequent.

You had a thought then, and you figured now would be the best time to act on it. You took one of his hands and placed it around your neck. Jungkook looked down at you and you felt him twitch inside you.

“Y/N,” he moaned out, squeezing slightly, the pressure making your high start to approach much faster than before.

“You’re always so good for me,” he continued, praising you as he leaned down to kiss you and squeezed again. He was so careful, always applying the same amount of pressure, never too much. You could breathe easily, but just the feeling of his hand there was enough to push you over the edge for the third time.

“Jungkook,” you cried out, your orgasm less violent than before, but the feeling was different now, somewhat still heightened since he was inside of you. Your walls clenched around him hard, making him let out a long, loud moan. He moved his hands now to grip the bed sheets so he had some way to ground himself as he was coming undone.

“Y/N, fuck, I’m gonna cum, I love you so much, I-,” you cut him off as you pulled him into a kiss, one that you filled with as much love and passion as you could. He kept moaning as he continued his now uncoordinated thrusts, once, twice, three more times before he twitched inside of you and you felt him fill you up, cumming inside you with a loud groan.

He was breathing heavily, his forehead pressed against your shoulder, eyes closed as he came down from his high. You were rubbing his back and placing kisses on his temple, feeling as he softened inside of you but made no attempt to pull out just yet.

“Well,” you started to say, “that was nice.”  You felt him chuckle against your shoulder.

“Just nice, huh,” he asked as he was still laying on top of you, leaning up on his elbows now so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight.

“Hmmm,” you pretended to ponder about it. Jungkook feigned hurt and the look on his face made you laugh.

“You made me cum 3 times in the span of like an hour. I’d say that’s pretty good.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Trust me, babygirl, I can do way better than that.”

The suggestion had you slightly throbbing again upon hearing it, but you knew you were done for right now. Perhaps in the future you could go for longer rounds without needing a break, but right now you just wanted to stay like this with Jungkook.

“I’m sure you can,” you agreed as you captured his lips in a gentle kiss. You felt him sigh against you, sounding completely content.

He grunted as he pulled away. “As much as I’d hate to move right now, we should probably get cleaned up. How does a nice, warm shower sound?” You nodded and he pulled out carefully, leaving you feeling slightly empty now that he was no longer inside of you.

He got off the bed first, legs somewhat wobbly from what you could tell, but he was probably in much better shape than you were. You actually dreaded getting up because you weren’t sure how well you’d be able to walk-

You didn’t have to think about it very long, though, before Jungkook was scooping you up and carrying you bridal style towards your bathroom. The gesture wasn’t grand or anything, but it made you fall even more for him.

You were so, so in love with him. And there was no use in denying it anymore.

During your shower, you both took turns cleaning each other off, sharing passionate kisses whenever you’d be facing each other. You ended up just staying under the water wrapped in each other’s arms for most of the shower, but you both eventually decided to get out when the water started to get cold.

Jungkook helped you dry your hair with a towel, his lips slightly parted as he focused on drying it carefully. As you looked up at him and saw his face full of concentration, you felt that familiar warm feeling blossom throughout your chest. It was a feeling you’d felt for quite some time now, whenever you’d catch him doing something endearing.

Once you both were clean and dried off, you settled back into the bed, you opting for one of his t-shirts and him in a pair of sweatpants. It was later in the evening than you thought it was, and you suddenly realized how tired you’d become.

Jungkook was lying on his back and you placed your head on his chest, his arm wrapping around you to pull you close. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, looking down at you as you sighed comfortably.

“Hey,” he said softly. You peered up at him sleepily, making him smile. “We don’t have to get into it now, but-“

He trailed off, seeming somewhat troubled. You figured it was probably because of what happened the last time you two slept together.

Except then, all these mutual feelings weren’t out in the open like they were now. You leaned up to kiss him, hoping to assuage his worries as much as possible for the time being.

“I love you,” you told him, not missing how his arm that was wrapped around you pulled you even closer. “And I know you love me. I think that’s all we need to know right now.”

Your answer seemed to help somewhat, but it looked like it wasn’t quite what he was looking for since his brows were still slightly furrowed.

“I know that, I guess I’m just worried about what happens now,” he said quietly as he rested his cheek on top of your head.

“Well,” you pulled back so you could look him in the eyes. “I figured maybe we’d date or something.”

Your answer took him off guard and the look on his face was too laughable you couldn’t help but giggle. A second later he broke out into a huge grin.

“Wait, are you serious,” he asked, his tone excited. You nodded and he pulled you into a kiss, hugging you tightly.

“God, I’ve waited so long for this,” he added, pulling away to leave a peck on your nose. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”

“Honestly, me too,” you added, giggling again when he brushed his nose against yours.

Before you got comfortable laying on his chest again, there was still something your were curious about. You folded your hands together and laid them on his chest, resting your chin on top of them as you searched his face. He was still beaming and the sight had your stomach feeling fluttery.

“So, this whole stripper plan. Explain.”

He looked taken aback and averted his eyes, only to have you turn his face toward you again.

He sighed. “I asked your roommate if she had any idea how I could fix things. It was mainly her idea, but the blindfold thing was something I suggested because I knew it’d probably be best if you couldn’t see me- which now in hindsight sounds stupid,” he finished with a groan.

You laughed. “You’re both idiots, but I love you anyway.”

“Hey!” Jungkook tickled your sides, making you squirm in his hold. “We should at least get points for creativity.”

“Fine, I guess I can give you that,” you finally relented as you laid your head on his chest again. You could hear his heartbeat, slow and rhythmic, also soothing. “Where’d you learn to dance like that, though? You certainly felt like you knew what you were doing, even if I couldn’t see you.”

Jungkook’s laugh was like music to your ears as he rubbed your back. “You know those dance classes I took as electives in college? I learned a lot more than you think.”

“Ooh, interesting. Perhaps you can show me some time,” you peered up at him again, your eyes half-closed from being sleepy, “and not under the guise that you’re a stripper.”

“You got a deal, babygirl,” he said softly, giving you one last kiss before you placed your head on his chest again. You fell asleep listening to his heartbeat, the sound lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you’d had in weeks. His arms were wrapped around you protectively, making you feel safe. You knew the road ahead might not be easy, but you had your best friend – the man you loved more than anything else in the world – by your side. You knew that in the end, that would make it all worth it.

[pack-the-pack]

My (likely) unpopular opnions on Mo Dao Zu Shi.

So I finished the novel, and I'll be only talking about the novel and the novel alone, not taking into consideration any of the other iterations, simply because I didn't finish any of them. This is also just my opinion and because I can't keep my thoughts to myself, so try to not take it too seriously.

!ALSO HAS SPOILERS!

1- Jin Guangyao is my favourite and I love him, I don't care what anyone has to say. I believe almost everything he said in the Guanyin temple, maybe aside from whether his child was conceived before or after he married Qin Su. But I'm inclined to believe him on that too rather than to doubt, because he really didn't seem like he liked causing harm unless he saw it as strictly necessary.

2- That said, that's mostly just going by the book. Idk how canon we're supposed to take the extras to be, but if they're indeed meant to be canon, the extra by the name of "Villainous Friend" kind of makes my love for him waver a bit. But I understand his position, he was ordered by his dad, so refusing or leaving the job half done would probably be bad for him. But dude... He could have spared some mercy for the children (but maybe that'd be a bad idea, having living proof that a grudge fuels insanity and bloodlust sitting right beside him in the form of Xue Yang. So he probably did it as insurance).

3- I still love him tho. And I still love XiYao and want a lot of fix-it fics now :((

4- Jin Guanshan died the death he deserved and A-Yao was 100% right to do it. Everyone that was like "but he was your father" in the novel can go suck a dick cause it's easy judging when you're not in his position. That goes for everything he does actually.

5- I was a bit confused about Xue Yang's end? Like did he die or not? Cause it seemed like he just lost his arm and was a bit hurt and then was swept away. If he didn't die what happened to him? We never get a follow up on that. Did I read it wrong or did he really just got yeeted out of the story never to be seen again? Idk seemed a bit weird.

5.5- I also love Yi City arc, but it makes me a bit confused on what was the point of it? It seems like it could have been skipped entirely and not much would have changed.

6- I'm not entirely sure that Wei Wuxian was actually gay or even bi for LWJ in his first life. You can boo me all you want, but I don't think there's enough information to draw a conclusion here. He could have just been really determined to bother Lan Wangji and make friends with him just because he posed a challenge, given he got rejected all the time. It wasn't really too different from his behaviour with MianMian. Just saying, reincarnation could have very well made him sort of gay, or well gayER.

7- Zizhen didn't have enough scenes, he should have appeared more and have been on those night hunts in the extras.

8- Talking about the juniors, I know a lot of people ship Jin Ling with Sizhui, and a lot of people ship Sizhui and Jinyi, and then Jinyi with Jin Ling. I say we forgo that and just throw my boy Zizhen in the mix and make them all date together. A couple of four. This way everyone gets 3 cute boyfriends. No need to choose.

9- Some of y'all be acting like the incense burner chapters killed your dog and shot your parents. Chill out. They're intense and not everyone's cup of tea, but in their essence there's nothing really wrong with them. It's clearly just two married people who trust each other pushing the bounds of their fantasies and kinks IN THEIR FUCKING DREAMS! And it isn't like they aren't both into what they're doing. Wei Wuxian is more than enthusiastic. There is like one little mishap that happens at the end of the last chapter, a matter of miscommunication and kink-negotiation mishandling, but it's solved right after it happens! Calling it true non-con is a stretch and a bit unforgiving don't you think?

10- I still don't get why Yanli was at Nightless City. She had abstained from pretty much being part of anything like that the whole book. Why all of a sudden go to Nightless City? What could she have done there? Seems a bit convenient.

11- Talking about convenient, what was that throw away line on the explanation of how Wei Wuxian started cultivating the demonic path? He just found a book???? Conveniently like that? No further explanation needed? What?

12- Nie Minjue was a self-righteous hypocritical asshole.

13- Nie Huaisang is not that much better than Jin Guangyao. He used people and did terrible things, even willing to sacrifice teenagers, just to achieve his goal.

14- There is no justice in this book. Not really. Everyone does selfish things (maybe aside from Lan Xichen, the saint) to achieve their own goals and always think themselves to be justified in their actions. To only see Jin Guangyao's crimes as bad is to ignore that everyone did bad, selfish, detrimental things. The people that got a happy ending or a bad ending didn't get them because they deserved it or due to justice. They just got it. Like Xue Yang says "there's no why, sometimes things just happen".

15- Chengmei is far too cute of a name for Xue Yang.

16- Everyone shits on Jin Guangyao, but he was legitimately a good chief cultivator. While the sects generally saw themselves as above helping on insignificant matters, he went and made projects to help the common people. He also worked hard to maintain his sect in line with an ideal of nobleness and discipline as shown by how Jin Ling says in the extras that when he was sect leader no one would be so quick to take a bribe.

17- A-Yao was ambitious, clever, hard working and yes he did love people too. He's not just bad. He had all the odds stacked against him, and even so, at least momentarily, he overcame all of it. Whether his means were justified or not is another story entirely.

18- Wei Wuxian wasn't really a great caretaker of A-Yuan. He was kind of mean and careless. He obviously didn't do it with ill intention, but he's just not the best baby sitter.

19- I don't hate Jiang Cheng for his mean remarks and hatred for Wei Wuxian and his relationship with Lan Wangji. He's just kind of stupid and emotionally constipated. He's not bad, he's just a bit ignorant. And you have to remember that these are their society's norms. He's acting in line with what he was taught.

20- Wen Qing had such a minor role in the story overall. She should have been used more.

21- Wei Wuxian is many times kind of mean to Wen Ning even tho he's so selfless and doing everything he can to protect and respect him. I don't mean it all the time, but he could be kinder to him. Wen Ning in general always gets the short end of the stick and the worse treatment undeservedly.

22- Gusu Lan could have held a little secret cerimony to officially marry wangxian and officially accepted them as cultivation partners. It would have been specially meaningful because Lan Qiren would have sort of being communicating that his Nephew's happiness holds more value to him than his hatred for Wei Wuxian and the upkeeping of sect rules and appearances. I know it's unrealistic but man it would've been nice to see.

That's it. And yea I know this is mostly me just trying to defend my A-Yao, but I regret nothing. Y'all can throw stones and boo, be my guest. This is just my opinion anyway, so you don't have to take it seriously or give a crap about it.

[hmspogue]

Outer Banks season 2 Official Trailer shot-by-shot rundown

A comprehensive post where I scream about analyze the entire trailer frame by frame for clues, theories, and plot. Just my own opinions and general tin foil-hatting

These are screenshots from Netflix’s trailer for Outer Banks season 2. I do not claim or own any of these.

note: this post is tagged as a long post if you wish to avoid having to scroll until your thumbs break.

“My old man used to tell me, ‘it’s best to never say you’ve hit rock bottom’.”

(Putting all of these shots together since they’re scenes we already know but-) Holy shit, okay let’s just....start off like this I guess, damn.

“'Trust me’, he said...”

Kiara looking back and forth between the boys like this really just feeds the headcanon I have that her form of grief this season is going to be her trying to hold it together for their sakes (and eventually just snapping).

JJ just looks fucking furious someone give these kids a hug? I already know this scene is going to ruin me.

“You can always go...”

JJ back working at the hotel. He looks literally so angry again in this scene I could see him self destructing at work and losing his job? (Please do not be isolating yourself you beautiful son of a bitch even though I know you’re going to).

Pope in the Twinkie (costuming wise they all are in warmer looking clothes for some of the shots, so just confirming it’s a little bit into the school year when this all takes place).

“Lower”

Big John was real big into pep talks, I see. (seriously can you imagine Big John having this conversation with like 8 year old John B after he fucking dropped his ice cream cone or some shit I shouldn’t be laughing).

I’m just-

These poor kids, I wanna know how the police all the way down in the Bahama’s knew about them?

Their calves....

“RUN!”

Are going to be so fucking jacked by the end of this season I stg.

Fuck you.

“The gold from the Royal Merchant....it’s here.”

For a while, I had thought that maybe they didn’t even make it to the Bahama’s at the front of the season and ended there (because everyone had been filming in there). But I guess they’re going to be making two trips.

If I were a bird from this POV I’d shit right on that house no questions asked.

oooooh ho hokay. Just so we’re clear. Ward Cameron not only get away with murder and about two dozen other felonies, but-

“Half a billion.”

HE STILL FINDS THE GOLD IN THE CRAIN HOUSE AND GETS TO KEEP IT?

Not the polo with the snap back, I just know this man has a playlist called Sad Boi Hours that is just Juice WRLD’s top 5 songs on Spotify and he tells his friends they wouldn’t know the underground artists he listens to.

Sh, you have lost screaming privileges. Go inside and take a nap maybe.

“John B, we are fugitives in a foreign country.”

So, previously, I was talking about how I was confused how they would still be trying to find him is everyone thought he was dead, but here the wanted poster clearly says “presumed lost at sea”. I think that will be interesting to see how the Pogues all interpret that. 

Especially because they already had a memorial for John B and everything, I wonder if there will be any part of the Pogues holding out hope that they both could still be out there OUCH.

I’m going to circle back to this, but it looks like John B and Sarah are going to get separated for a little while in this man hunt, I could see my idiot himbo son trying to sacrifice himself so Sarah can get away but in reality just....stranding her.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?”

Oh, sweetie....

“Well, Sarah Cameron, I do stupid things all the time without realizing it.”

The volume of his self awareness is astronomical. sir, that is your whole character summed up in your own words.

GOD, IT’S ME AGAIN. PLEASE LET THEM LEAN INTO COMPLETE HIMBO JOHN B THIS SEASON I’LL DO ANYTHING-

nyyooooOOOOOOOOOOOOM-

“Hold on!”

The complete abject terror I would feel having John Booker Routledge driving get-away and then saying the words “Hold on” while reaching fro the gear shift? The english language fails me. 

Sarah, bestie, I’m so sorry.

I just wanna know-

what the plan or objective was in this situation. What was the reason for being this dramatic.

Rest in piss, bozo <3

“Ward’s still out there...”

Okay, same conversation they were having as before. I wonder what makes them decide they need to get back to the OBX for this tho.

“I can clear my name. This can all be over in one shot.”

It looks like Topper watching this but way more concerningly, correct me if I’m wrong but this 100% looks like....John B gets caught. And the DEATH PENALTY?! He did have a mug shot for the fliers in s1 and the one above but he was never brought in? Plus he just looks super dirty and dishevled in this one so I-

Jail break anyone?

I also still want to know if they’re going to go with a Topper redemption arc this season. like, does he know more than he should just from being around Rafe and his big fat mouth? Is he going to help out the Pogues even if it’s just for Sarah?

This shot just suddenly made me really sad. The thought of this all started because Big John left one last thing for his son to find, his literal life’s work. And when it all started, it was just a fun adventure John B and his best friends were going on together and having fun with. Then it all got dragged to absolute shit and turned into what it did, including the remaining 3 Pogues thinking that this treasure hunt took their two best friends away from them. And it’s nothing like Big John intended it to be.

Why my eyes wet?

Now we’re edging into what I was talking about earlier with John B and Sarah getting separated.

“If you think there is anything I wouldn’t do...”

Once again, John B is no where to be found. Also, just in case y’all didn’t already know or forgot Ward is an actual psychopath.

I believe this one of the new character, played by Jontavious Johnson (Stubbs). Based on the voice over it lowkey sounds like they’re implying Ward maybe hired Stubbs and Cleo to find and bring Sarah back. My theory would be I bet they do go to retrieve her, but she somehow convinces them that it would be more beneficial for them in the end to be on the Pogue’s side instead.

Miss Girl you gotta be keeping your head on a SWIVEL. Especially when you’re a FUGITIVE of the LAW-

“...you haven’t been paying attention.”

My guy, who are you clarifying this for?

It’s what you deserve for monologuing.

in all seriousness, the idea of them coming to face to face with Ward in Nassau after thinking they finally escaped him is genuinely terrifying.

“SARAH!”

It kind of looks like they’re either hiding their faces or covering their noses? I don’t know maybe it was from some tactic to get away from Ward.

What did I literally jsut say about yelling privileges, you unhinged mother fucker?

“I’m calling the shots now. I’m driving.”

The following progression of scenes made me actually snort-

“I can’t drive stick.”

PLEASE THE FINGER GUNS LAUNCHED ME INTO ORBIT I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

Alright, so now it looks like we’re in Charleston. This is the same scene with Heyward’s truck that got leaked from BTS (read: JJ and Kie shoulder touch).

One of the main things that stuck out to me in the following scenes which, you will see, is it lowkey looks like Pope is kind of heading up this part of the operation, or even going in alone? The following clips are just very Pope focused. 

I don’t know what it means, it’s just an observation.

“John B was not the only one that Ward double-crossed.”

LIMBRY-

Bro, we have been hearing about this woman for literal months and I just have....so many questions? 

Who the hell is she? How is she connected to Ward? Why is she in South Carolina instead of the OBX? How do the Pogues even learn about her and how to track her down? How is she meant to “help” them? GAH I JUST WANNA KNOOOW. I already know I don’t trust her though and no I will not be offering up supporting evidence.

Sir, that is my son please unhand him.

“I think you know what I want.”

.......no? But feel....free to explain yourself?

The print on the paper is the same one that’s on the ceiling tiles in the following scene. Obviously, with a key on it that most likely goes to the place a few shots from now.

Hell yeah, son, let’s get SLEUTHING.

“The treasure belongs to the Pogues.”

DAMN STRAIGHT.

Bestie’s I’m not going to lie, I stared at this frame for a solid 10 minuets and I have no idea what it says on there I’m sorry. Someone in the comments is welcome to enlighten us.

“We gotta find it first.”

I can’t tell if that’s just dirt or if he hurt his head? But he look GOOD right now for one thing. For another, same outfit as the one in the Twinkie from the beginning of the trailer.

Look at her. LooK AT HER! LOOK! AT! HER! I MISSED HER SO MUCH even in that damn smiley face top that continues to haunt my waking hours she is in it so much and it stresses me out for literally no good reason I’m sorry-

I could literally cry right now and I think that speaks volumes to how little we actually see him genuinely happy. Have I mentioned how much I love that red hat?

Also, probably not that important, but this is not from the same scene as the shots of Pope and Kiara were. This is from the next one-

“Woogity-woogity?”

“Give me some woogity, baby!”

Yeah, this pushed me over the fucking edge, the way that they’re actually happy and laughing? The fact that they kept woogity-woogity and made it A Thing? Yes.

I am, however, going to be intentionally ignoring what appears to be the very intentional stagingof having such an obvious space between where Kiara and Pope are sitting adn where JJ sits, even including the level they’re sitting on because I don’t have the emotional capacity to face those implications right now. Thank you for your time.

Yes yeeeeEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!

GIVE ME ALL OF THE SCENES OF THEM ACTUALLY GETTING TO BE TEENAGERS AND JUST BREATHE AND LAUGH AND HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT BE RUNNING FOR THEIR FUCKING LIVES!!!!!!!!!!!

before Rafe comes in and literally starts shooting because they can’t breathe for more than 7 seconds but we’ll....get to that.

They refer to Sarah as a Pogue this season or I burn Netflix to the ground. Your move, Jonas.

50 bucks says John B is driving the Twinkie again for the first time since being back.

I deadass think the Pogues JUST got Sarah and John B back and they’re just having the time of their life. Kie was in her smiley face outfit when Pope was in this one a few clips ago, and I still hold to the belief that that one still they released of JJ and Kie hopping over a fence is the Pogue reunion so-

Ward? I have no idea what he’s looking at behind the wall paper and I’ll be so honest I don’t care my eyes are only seeing Pogue content right now.

“This is a map of the whole island.”

This fit, when will John B learn how to operate buttons, stay tuned for season 5. Also my previous theory of this being their reunion outfits and stuff because Pope is in the back in the same jacket as before.

The plot thickens and so has JJ’s hair, Rudy drop the shampoo brand.

Please, dear God, tell me they’re back in the sex church. For @jiaaraa sake.

Kiara, your Madison is showing.

Okay, I really did try but all I can make out is Something to the tomb begin something something.

You’re welcome.

I am no expert but I do not believe boats operate on land.

John B looks like he is in the same outfit here that is in his mug shot we saw on the TV screen so I have a sneaking suspicion this is where he gets caught. 

“John B is back-”

Once again with the damn sexual tension that’s always between Barry and Rafe in every scene they do are we about to kiss right now?

“-it’s him or me.”

First of all, no.

Second of all, I’m just....so very confused about this time line this season. It kind of looks like Ward and Rafe follow and find Sarah and John B in Nassau (unless those scenes by the truck were actually back in the OBX). So did they....go to Nassau, then just come right back when they did? I’m just confused.

Put that thing back where it came from or so help me.

Literally when will you stop at this point I am begging you. 

This looks like the same scene the Pogues were, ya know, literally just having a good time at so fuck me, I guess.

Yeah, no, it’s going to be a no from me, I’m just going to pretend like I’m not seeing this and moving on.

I have simply no idea what is going on here or who that is on the bike but maybe JJ? Maybe Luke even? I think that’s JJ’s bike. 

The sewer scene. The SEWER SCENE-

For months sicne that tiktok leaked this damn scene has been genuinely all I could think about. So (obviously) it seems like they’re sending Kie down into the sewer to go do seomthing and things go horribly, horribly wrong. 

If you haven’t seen the tiktok, essentially all it was was JJ and Pope screaming and trying to lift up the man hole cover while Kie is begging for them to hurry from inside. I’m cheating a little bit as this isn’t a shot from the trailer but this picture was posted and it’s from the same scene.

I’ll just....leave this here. Back to the trailer shots.

Nice. Also, same shirt as mugshot.

Hey, um, what? 

Kiara’s car, she’s driving, I can’t tell who’s in the back seat or the front.

Holy God what is going on and how can I as an audience member put a stop to it?

So, same scene as we will see and was in the teaser but, for some reason, they’re all jumping off of a giant ass boat into the little life raft where it looks like JJ gets hurt later but don’t you worry we’re getting to that.

JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE JJ AND KIARA WITH THE POGUE HANDSHAKE THEY BOTH LOOK SO DAMN GOOD AND THEIR LITTLE SMILES SPARE ME-

Cleo 🥵

I’m so excited to see her arc and what it brings this season you guys have no idea.

Please for the love of God be about to get Ward Cameron’s ass like he deserves literally punt him into jail right from Tanny Hill.

Sarah at My Druther’s with what looks like a bloody bandage on her side? Same outfit she’s wearing when they’re running from the police on the beach and she has the bandage there too so. Interesting. 

Topper hugging who I’m pretty sure is Sarah, being a general douche because he’s clearly looking at John B like 😏 

Clips like these serve to remind me just how many of my worldly posessions I would gladly give up to be able to punch Topper Thorton in the throat one time. 

I think this is Cleo jumping off the boat with Pope after John B and Sarah. 

Absolutely busting a lung at Pope’s form in this one.

John B and Sarah waiting in the life raft, still Cleo and Pope coming after them. The obvious next question is where are JJ and Kiara. The scene I’m sure you all have been waiting for is coming up and clearly takes place in the life raft as well.

So, I really think JJ and Kie get left for last, something horrible happens as they’re trying to jump (my head instantly goes to JJ maybe like pushing Kie out of the way and getting hit on the head instead or even just some accident). 

And, oh my GOD a scene of him falling off the boat after it happens and Kiara diving in after him immediately, having to desperatly try to stop him from sinkingand get to the life raft holy shit-

Girl CATCH HIM?????

Because why wouldn’t this be Rafe’s fault. Part of me wonders if this isn’t related to JJ being hurt.

I am going to try and unpack this as calmly as possible because behind my computer screen I am vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass but respectfully.

WHAT IN THE FUCK IS TIAUEWFHLAILA

Okay, so scene wise, JJ’s hit his head somehow (probably while he was jumping with Kiara) it looks like and now they’re back on the raft. 

In my opinion, this is either:

A) JJ is in really, really bad condition after getting hurt in the jump and they’re not sure he’s going to make it. So this is a “Please stay with me, stay awake, please don’t die” hug OR

B) They very narrowly just avoided a deadly situation (my first thought is JJ hits his head while jumping, passes out in the water, maybe almost drowns but Kie and the others get him onto the life raft in time) and this is more of a “Oh my God, you’re okay, you’re safe now, we’re okay” hug. 

I honestly lean more to the second one based on the little bit of Sarah’s face we saw in the background. To me, it almost looked like she was smiling thru tears, which, fits way more with the second option than the first. 

Anyways. Moving on before I burst a lung again.

(also, before anyone comes at me, no, I’m not happy JJ is hurt, obviously.  

(Once again, arrest outfits). You can still see the bandage but it looks like Sarah’s limping now too so...good Lord give the girl a break maybe?

Everything in this trailer just went to shit so fast I think I have whip lash, can we go back to the Pogues hanging out and being happy now pkease I liked those scenes.

“I get it. You guys are scared.”

“No.”

She’s cute but, uh, hello sewer scene outfits. Seems like them planning to do whatever the hell they were going to do in the sewers but the boys are starting to get cold feet as maybe they should but hind sight is 20/20 I suppose.

“It’s kind of cute.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You should’ve just led with that.”

I will never be able to express how much I adore Pogue banter and general dumbassery and I have a feeling this season will not be lacking in either department

I high key don’t think these two are actually going to be there for this scene to go down but I’ll let it slide this time because-

They do be kinda cute.

It both feels like I’ve been waiting for this damn show for 3 years and also like I just watched season 1 last month explain that to me. 

Either way holy shit. I missed this dumb show and these dumb kids so much it physcially hurts and WE GET THEM BACK IN T-MINUS 16 DAYS.

Also. Where The Hell Is Wheezie Cameron And When Will She Have The Rights She Deserves.

[zmediaoutlet]

in support of Texas relief, @padaleckimeon donated $100 and requested Dean Jr. meeting Sam and Dean in heaven. Thank you for donating!

to get your own personalized fic, please see this post. (no longer taking prompts) 

(read on AO3)

When Dad dies, Dean takes a week off. It wasn’t sudden, or a surprise. Dad had been sick for a while, his body starting to fail him. At first Dean had been scared, and then he’d been angry. He was only twenty-four when Dad got the diagnosis and it wasn’t—fair, in some stupid but essential way. He’d barely graduated from college and, yeah, Dad was kind of old, older than a lot of his friends’ parents, but—he thought, somehow, that him dying just wasn't… applicable. Dad was just—there, always. Solid, supportive, kind of boring maybe but also stronger than anyone Dean had ever known, or would ever know, and it wasn’t right that he could just be sitting in his apartment midway through a novel and get a call and kind of sigh, because he was in a good part in the book, and then to sit up straight with his hair standing on end to hear Dad say, quiet, I'm sorry, buddy. We need to talk about something. That’s what he said, first. That he was sorry.

There were treatments, but not many. Dean had flown out and gone to a few of the appointments with the oncologist and Dad had been quiet, listening to the options. He’d researched a lot of this on his own, because Dean had done the same thing, and they’d both been nodding along during the options. Injections, radiation. Chemo. Dad had asked, polite, what the life expectancy was for each option, and Dean had watched the side of his face and not the doctor, and when the answer was given Dad had closed his eyes briefly, and then looked away from both Dean and the doctor, out the window at the snowy day, and Dean had known, then.

Dad made it past Dean’s twenty-fifth birthday. He had a party with his friends, at his girlfriend’s apartment, and they tried to keep his spirits up but it was a pretty shitty party, all told. The next day, his actual birthday, he flew back out to Dad’s house and he was in good spirits—had a mini-cake, even, with a single candle that he made Dean blow out—but he was thin, and his hair was growing back in snow-white and tender-soft, and when Dad fell asleep in front of the crappy old cowboy movie that Dean had picked just because he knew Dad for some reason liked it, Dean went out onto the porch into the nearly-springtime air and he cried, pissed at himself. Pissed at everything. Then just—unbearably sad, because he liked his current girlfriend but he didn’t think he was going to marry her, and that meant that whatever girl he did marry would be one his dad would never meet—if he had kids, they’d never know how his dad concentrated like a motherfucker on crossword puzzles and obsessed over documentaries and knew every single piece of the inside of that behemoth car in the garage and was just the smartest kindest most stubborn person. Just—the best person. They’d listen to Dean’s stories maybe but they wouldn’t know, because Dad would never meet them, and that was just—unbearable, that night. In the morning, Dad made oatmeal and Dean added a bunch of sugar because Dad’s oatmeal was inedible otherwise, and Dad smiled kind of rueful like he always did when Dean did that, and then Dad said, I’m sorry, again, kind of quiet, and Dean reached out and held his hand—thin, and the bones feeling frail—and he said don’t be sorry, Dad, and four months later, Dad was dead.

Dad was always pretty up-front with him about most everything, especially after he and Mom split up. When he was twelve, Dad explained the supernatural very carefully, telling him that he was safe but that other people might not be, and why. When he was thirteen, Dad told Dean that Hell and Heaven were both real and that there was, definitely, confirmed, a God, and maybe it wasn’t the same God that other people knew but that Dad said he was kind, in his own way. The person in charge of Hell, Dad said, was maybe less so, but she wouldn’t hurt Dean, ever. Dad said he knew that for fact, and he said it so certainly, looking Dean in the eye, that Dean believed him. When Dean turned eighteen, a few months from graduating high school, Dad took him to a tattoo parlor and said for maybe the first time in Dean’s life that something was non-negotiable, and Dean hadn’t cared because what other kid in the senior year was going to walk at graduation with a kickass demonic tattoo?

There were other things, though, that they didn’t talk about. Dad said one day a lot when Dean was little but then, when he was older and it was clear that one day would be never, he just said—I can’t, buddy. I wish I could.

After the week off, rattling around the old house, and the cremation with no service that Dad had insisted on, Dean drives out to the lawyer in Sioux Falls. She’s nice. Respectful but not cloying. The Samuel Winchester Estate that Dean is the sole beneficiary of is—a lot of money. A lot more money than he knew Dad had, or that he could have ever earned. Dad has assigned some of the money to go to charities, and to some people Dean doesn’t know—the lawyer doesn’t say who in the specific, but says they’re kids of some of Dad’s old friends. Dean didn’t know Dad had many friends, much less ones who’d get trust funds in inheritance. Aside from the stock options and the accounts and all the money left over, Dean inherits a list of assets. The house, of course. The Chevy in the garage, with the stipulation that he can never sell it. A safety deposit box, from which the lawyer has already retrieved the contents.

She leaves him alone, to go through the box. Neatly organized, like everything else in Dad’s life. File-folders of pictures, printed out all old-fashioned. Some of Dean when he was a baby. Some of when Dad and Mom were still together, leaning against each other, Dean hugged between them. Some—much older, creased and faded, stored in little plastic sleeves so they can't degrade. He recognizes a few from the framed copies Dad always had in the house. Some he hasn't seen. Most of them—almost all of them—are of his Uncle Dean, who died before he was born, and he looks especially at one that just—hits him in the gut, in this awful way where he has to sit there looking at the soothing taupe paint of the conference room wall before he can look at it again. Uncle Dean's facing the camera, sort of, although he's laughing about something and not really looking into the lens, and there's Dad, laughing too. He looks… young. Younger than Dean is now. He flips the picture over. Dad's handwriting, careful: 2006, Bobby's house. Almost fifty years ago. An entire life he didn't know. He thinks again of his imaginary future kids. These lives they have, grandfather to father to son, that overlap like a venn diagram but—not enough. Not close to enough.

*

What's a life? How to summarize, from beginning to faded end, in a way that would make sense to anyone but who it happened to?

Dad left letters, explaining, but he's gone and the context is missing. There are so many questions Dean wants to ask but he can't, of course, anymore. The first letter is attached to the key to the bunker, where he would never take Dean when he was alive, and on winter break from med school Dean flies from Boston to Kansas and rents a car and drives alone through the snowfields.

Dark, inside. He throws the big switch and the lights crackle, hum on, almost reluctant. He has no idea how it's getting power. Dust, but not as much as there could be. A library, a kitchen. Archives upon archives. Dad had explained, but what little he'd said both in life and in the letters didn't come close. It was home, he wrote, for over a decade. The only one we had with four walls, for our whole lives, although we didn't think of it that way. I didn't, at least. Dean doesn't know what that means but he looks into the bedrooms and sees… emptiness, plain bunks and old desks and funny lamps. I just picked a random room, Dad said, and as Dean's looking he really can't tell which was Dad's. Figures. Their house when Dean was growing up didn't change a bit, no matter how terrible that wallpaper was. It's only when Dean pushes open the door to room 11 that there's any personality, and he flicks the light and stands there blinking, surprised. Guns and knives on the wall. Books, piled up. Empty beer bottles crowded on the little table. Dust, but—not as much as there could be. He walks in, cautious, this feeling in his gut like he's in someone's home and they've just walked out, and could return any moment. A food bowl on the floor. A shirt flung over the chair. On the desk: more books and magazines and a folded actually-on-paper newspaper from 2024, and a job application, half filled out. Dean Winchester, it says at the top, in mostly-neat capitals, and Dean rests a hand on the back of the chair and feels… strange. He tries to picture it—the man from the pictures, Dad's brother, filling up this space. Drinking beer and reading pulp westerns and checking out—oh, weird, magazine porn. Dean shakes his head. Impossible.

In the letters, Dad said: Hunting was all we knew how to do. With everything we knew, it was our duty to use the knowledge the best way we could. I went back and forth on it. Your uncle never did, even if I know there were times he wished he—that we both—could be something else. I don't want that for you. I want you to live exactly the life you want for yourself. No expectations, okay? Not from me or anyone else.

There are printed files that go back a hundred years. More than. Paper files, but old SSDs too, with connectors Dean has to find adapters for. Dad: If you want to know what we did, it's digitized. I know I always said I'd tell you one day, but I never knew how to say it. I'm sorry for that. I always thought I'd be one hundred percent honest, if I ever got a kid, because of how we were raised. I didn't know how hard that could be. Stuff that you'd want to say, but when it came time to just open your mouth and say it there weren't any words.

Dad wrote up all the old hunts, it turned out. Simple notes about where/when/how, the kind of monster it was, the number of people who died and the people who were saved. The people they had to explain things to, who knew now about the supernatural underbelly to the universe. He noted, too, if there were injuries, and Dean reads with his hand over his mouth a long, long litany of Dean W. shot, right arm; Sam W. broken bone in hand; Dean W. concussion; Sam W. strangled. On and on. No wonder Dad didn't make a big fuss when Dean broke his leg in the fourth grade.

He sleeps in the bunker overnight, in one of the spare bedrooms that's not room 11. There's a fan on the ceiling, dusty office supplies on the desk. By lamplight he reads the letters, on his back on the stiff terrible mattress, his eyes stinging and past-midnight tired. Our lives weren't the kind of thing anyone would want, Dad wrote. I spent so long trying to get away from it because I thought 'it shouldn't be this way' – and I was right, you know? It shouldn't have been how it was. But it was that way, anyway, and in the end that was something I was okay with. We were making what difference we could. We were happy. A lot of people have it worse.

'We'. Dad hardly writes Uncle Dean's name but he's in every letter. We, we, we. Dad told Dean stories, of course, the dumb stuff they got up to when they were teenagers, or the (sanitized, Dean's sure) adventures they had as adults, but despite the pictures on the wall at home and the pictures in the deposit box and the whole life that's here, Dean can't—see it. Beer bottles on the table in the bedroom, one on either side of the tiny table. The shirt slung over the chair. We were happy, he says, but—how? Dean can't imagine it.

In the last letter Dad wrote, I think I'm writing this when I've got a month or two left. Dr. Hendricks isn't sure. I wish I had more time, to explain how it was. Who we were. I never told you the most embarrassing thing in the world, but I'm old and I'm not going to be around and not much will be able to embarrass me anymore, so screw it. (Fifty years ago I would have gotten really mad at myself for that kind of comment; more things age can fix.) There are books about us. There's a hard drive, in the bunker. It's labelled BURN THIS. (That's your uncle's handwriting.) They're true, more or less. Written by a really crappy, amateur writer, but he was a kind of prophet, and he knew everything there was to know about us, and he wrote books for about five years, based on our life and the real things we did. Some of it is exaggerated and melodramatic. A lot of it is just how it happened. You'll have to decide which is which. I don't come off too well in some of them but I hope you'll understand that the world… I don't know how to describe it. Somehow the world felt different, then. It was just us, trying our best. I hope it gives you some idea of the life we had. No matter what happened, I'm glad that life led me to you.

*

What's a life?

Dean marries. Not the girl from college but a woman, later. Red hair, blue eyes. Absolutely no sense of humor beyond puns. Hates cooking and has strong opinions on movies from the 1980s. They have three kids, a girl and then a boy and then a girl again. All dark-haired, smart. Dean gives the boy the middle name Samuel and his wife holds his hand, says it sounds great.

He's a doctor. He meets hunters. He sets bones for free and prescribes medication when needed and when it will be needed. A woman, last name Novak, calls him and says you know, your dad was one of the greats?, and he meets people—older than him by twenty, thirty years, with scars and dangerous lives and guns hidden in every corner, and he hears stories. Sam Winchester, who saved the world. Dean knows—he's read the books—but there are more years that the books didn't cover, more people who didn't die because of his dad's intervention. "They were the best," one man says, shrugging, and gets no argument, nods and shrugs from every hunter in the room, and Dean goes home that night and kisses his littlest girl where she's already tucked up in bed, and he thinks: what will she know, about who her grandfather was? Who their family is? What could she possibly know?

Dean's wife dies in her eighties. An accident. A broken hip, an infection following. Still happens, even in this new century. The kids are grown, have kids of their own, and the funeral is big, and there are people at his elbow who say to him we're so sorry and who share anecdotes of her life and who support him to his chair, even though at ninety he's perfectly capable of getting to his chair himself. He's a cranky old man, he realizes. She would've laughed at him. He thinks, inevitably, of his own father's death. Silent and unmourned, except by one. What's a life.

He writes letters, for his children. The estate is handled. He calls the oldest girl and explains to her that she's going to be the executor, and that there are things she has to keep. A key. A car. Pictures, so that her boys will know where they came from. "Of course, Dad," she says, placating a little because he's old and clearly starting to lose his grip, but she'll do it. She's a good kid. Dean learned how to raise a kid from the best.

When he dies, he's expecting it. The trip to the hospital. The monitors. He knows the pain meds even if he's retired and his doctor looks like an infant but she gives him the good stuff. It's—easy. A slipping away. He closes his eyes to sleep and there is a moment where he thinks with surprisingly clarity, this is okay, isn't it, and has the feeling of someone's hand laid on his, and then he sleeps, and doesn't wake up again.

*

He opens his eyes in an armchair, in a house that he doesn't recognize but that feels instantly familiar. Music playing, somewhere, and a gold-tinged afternoon spilling through the window, and tone-deaf singing from the kitchen. His mind feels clearer than it has in… Tears come to his eyes but it doesn't hurt. He puts his fingers to his mouth and smiles, breathing in slow, and thinks—well, this is it. Heaven.

Time is no longer time. Space is—immaterial. There's a house, not their house, but it's roomy and it has what he needs and the bed he crawls into with his wife at the end of a day is comfortable, and that's what matters, as he lays his hand on her hip where he used to lay it always, and she sighs against the pillow and squirms and tucks herself into a fetal pretzel, like she always used to. The spill of her hair red against the pillow. Her warmth, plush against his bones. She smells not of honeysuckle or vanilla but just like warm, human skin, the faint bite of salt-sweat at the nape of her neck, the must in the morning in thin bluish light when she turns over and finds him awake, and smiles. Incredible. The weight of her is real, and the spot between her breasts when he kisses her there is real, and he'd always believed in some distant way that what his dad had told him was true—that there was a heaven, that there would be some kind of justice after death—but it was distant, and academic, because of course there was a life to live and patients to care for and children to raise and a wife to bury and a death to get through. What a thing, to come to. This place, with her hair on the pillow, and her smell. He hadn't forgotten it, in the end, after all.

The house sits in some place that feels like South Dakota. Home, or close to it. A lake among trees. A distance between things. He reads, and plays games he barely remembers from being a kid, and he watches the Ghostbusters movies again because his wife insists and they are, he has to admit, still funny, but he makes fun of the weird museum guy anyway, and she kicks him where her feet are tucked in his lap, and he tickles her in retaliation, and then—well, the movie will be there, later, when they're done.

She rides her bike every day. One day she comes back and says she was just visiting her mother, and Dean sits up and says, "What?" But—of course. What's time? What's a space, between this shared slow heaven and another? She shrugs—his mother-in-law says hi—and he sits there on the couch with his game paused, watching her go into the kitchen and shake her sweaty hair back from her face, redoing it into the practical twist at her neck like she always does, and he thinks—okay. Okay, maybe now.

The bookshelf has every book he could want, and seems to know what he needs to read before he does. Raining outside, spattering gentle on the eaves, and his wife made a huge pot of tea and took it to bed upstairs and left him just a cup, and so he sits at the kitchen table with his cup of tea and opens the book—Home, by Carver Edlund—and reads it, lingering, even if he's read it three times before online, his thumb brushing over the cheap too-thin pages of this physical copy. There's a poltergeist, preposterous. The psychic, odd and familiar. The brothers, united, and he reads the next-to-last chapter very slowly, lingering, as they find the box of pictures, as they get into the car together. Drive off, to meet some new dawning day.

He finishes his cup of tea. Puts on a clean shirt, combs his hair. "I'll be back," he says, to his wife, and she blinks at him from her nest of blankets with her own book and then only nods, and Dean goes downstairs and gets into his car and finds the road, beyond the garden gate, and drives.

He doesn't know where he's going but that doesn't matter. He turns on the car radio and it's playing—oldies, but really oldies, the stuff that was old when he was little. What childhood sounded like. Farms appear, melt away. Trees rising, through hills. He sings along, under his breath, remembering: a roadtrip to his grandma's house, Mom sleeping in the passenger seat and Dad driving through the night, and Dad singing very, very badly, as quiet as he could, and Dean thinking even as a kid that this was some private thing, to see, and he had to be silent and not show that he was awake or it would disappear. That feeling, it crept up on him at the oddest times, when he was an adult, and later. That sensation of the armored tank of the car moving through the dark, and the silence around them, and the quiet music inside, and Dad, in a world of his own, entirely separate from the world he shared with Dean.

Another hill. Climbing a mostly-paved road. Not raining anymore but the sun coming in slanted gold through the trees. Distance, and a curve, and then: a house. Old-looking. Older maybe than the one Dean and his wife share. In front of it, a car. The car.

Dean parks. He gets out, and the air smells washed-fresh, a little fecund. Like summer. He puts his hand on the hood of the Impala and it's sun-warm and he tears up, completely unexpected, and has to sit on the hood and hold his hands over his face, his heart—full, in a way he's felt since dying, but not in this particular way, this way of feeling that he thought had mellowed, a lifetime ago.

So much for putting on a good face. He wipes over his mouth and dashes his eyes clear. A porch, with new-carved railings. A door, painted blue. He knocks, his body feeling empty and clean and young, terribly young, and before he's quite ready the door opens, and it's—his uncle, in a purple plaid shirt and paint-spattered jeans and grey socks, frowning at him, saying, "Uh, hi?"

He looks—almost exactly like he looked in the pictures. Maybe forty, lines beside his eyes and heavy stubble on his jaw. The age he was when he died. Dean opens his mouth, can hardly dredge up what to say, and then he hears a voice say, "Dean?" and Dean and his uncle both turn their heads to see—Dad, young too, completely shocked, standing on the far side of the porch in running gear with sweat slicking his hair back from his head, and Dean drags in air and says, "Dad," and Dad grins at him, that big creased dorky-looking dad-smile that Dean only got once in a blue moon, and he steps forward and they're hugging, then, and it's—heaven. That's all he can think. Heaven, Dad's arms tight around him, his shoulders slotting in under Dad's because—Dad was so tall, and this is where Dean fit and never would fit again once Dad was gone. Here, under Dad's arm. Like being a kid again.

Dad's hand on the back of his head. A startled, shaky, deep breath in, and then hands gripping his shoulders, and being shoved reluctantly back to have Dad look down at his face, serious and worried. "How long has it been?" he says. "Are you—you didn't—?"

"I was ninety-seven," he says, and Dad's eyebrows go high and he smiles, big and glad and real, relieved. He touches Dean's face and Dean smiles back, tears rising again for no reason and for so many reasons. "I look good, don't I?"

Dad huffs a laugh. "You look great," he says, and then his eyes lift over Dean's head, and Dean has to turn around because—

What to call him? Uncle Dean. Standing there with his shoulder against the doorframe, his mouth tucked in on one side. Like from right out of one of the pictures, returning Dad's look. His eyes drop after a second to meet Dean's and Dean feels this odd jolt, in his chest. Bizarre, to see. He's real. All Dad's stories, the wall of memories, the books, and here he is, in grey socks, looking all over Dean's face like he's seeing it for the first time. "Guess you got your looks from your mom's side of the family," Uncle Dean says, finally, and Dad says, behind him, "Nice, dude," and Uncle Dean shrugs, unrepentant, but with an unexpected dimple quirking into his cheek, and holds out his hand to shake, and Dean takes it and has another shock at it, warm, callused, firm, real—while Uncle Dean says, wry, "Well, I guess some introductions are in order, huh?"

Uncle Dean and Dad share the house. It's nice, inside. Old fashioned in a way that feels comfortable, as Dean's come to expect. (He wonders, in a few hundred years—will new arrivals to heaven expect old-fashioned arcologies?) Uncle Dean brings beers from the kitchen and Dad takes his without even looking, drinking in Dean's face when Dean's doing the exact same to him. He looks so young. Younger, maybe, than he was even in the few pictures Dean has of him being a baby, held tiny in the crook of Dad's massive arm—some past time, some time Dean doesn't belong to, but Uncle Dean clearly does. Dad shakes his head after a few seconds, huffs again, rueful. "I don't even know where to start," he says.

Uncle Dean rolls his eyes, behind him, and says, "How about you ask the kid how he's doing, genius." Mean, but he squeezes Dad's shoulder too, and Dad bites his lip, looks at Dean, his head tipping. Asking.

It's awkward, but only in the way Dean would expect. To see his dad after so long—and both of them dead—and to explain… what? A life. Being a doctor, meeting a wife. Children. Grandchildren. "Great-grandpa Sammy," Uncle Dean fake-whispers, "told you you were old." Nudging Dad, half-sitting on the arm of his chair. Looking proud enough he could burst, although Dean doesn't know exactly why.

"Are you going to make dinner or are you just here to heckle?" Dad says, looking up, exasperated, and Uncle Dean raises his hands, says, "Oh, I'm here to heckle," but he gets up, too, says, "You get tired of the inquisition, kid, we've got more drinks in the kitchen," and cuffs Dad around the back of the head before he disappears down the blue-painted hall—and music comes on, after a moment. The kind of music that was on Dean's radio as he drove. Comfort sounds that go deep into some space beyond his bones.

"He's a lot, sorry," Dad says, after a second.

"I know, I read about it," Dean says, and Dad blinks at him, mouth half-open, before he remembers.

They have dinner. Uncle Dean makes burgers, fries, a spinach salad that Dean and Dad both groan at, and he looks at them across the table with his burger in his hands and shakes his head. No salad on his plate, Dean notices. They talk but about—nothing. Uncle Dean asks if the Broncos ever won the Superbowl again and Dean tries to dredge up an answer. Dad asks what his wife did for a living. Dean wants to ask things and doesn't know how. There's time, he knows, but for now all he can do is—watch. Dad leaning back in his chair with a beer, smiling at him while Uncle Dean tells some probably well-worn story about trying to fix the Impala in a rainstorm, and Dad was pissed for some reason and so kept handing him the wrong tools. "It was too dark to actually read the grip numbers," Dad says, patient like it's the hundredth time, and Uncle Dean says back, immediately, "Who needs the numbers? You can feel the weight in your hand!" Old arguments, well-worn, in the well-worn house. The way they move around each other, washing dishes, putting plates away. The way Dad's eyes will jump across the table, half a second before Uncle Dean's even opening his mouth, a smile already waiting to be pushed back down.

When it's night he says he should get back to his wife. "I'd like to meet her," Dad says, "some day."

"Gotta see who's willing to put up with a Winchester," Uncle Dean says, eyebrows waggling.

Dad sighs but nods, too. Dean gets folded into a hug, there under the tuck of his arm, and then he hugs Uncle Dean, too, impulsive and just—wanting to, feeling like a kid. Uncle Dean startles but hugs him back right away. "You're good, kid," he says, quiet against the side of Dean's head, and Dean nods and says, "Thanks," for more than he can say other than that, right then on this particular day, and then he gets into his car and pulls away from the house and looks back to see Uncle Dean gripping Dad's shoulder again while they watch him move away—and when he's home, after a blurring drive that's long enough for him to settle himself, he comes up the stairs to where his wife's warm in bed and slides in beside her and she says, sleepy, "How was it," and he says against her hair, "Perfect," because—it was. It was perfect.

*

Dean comes alone to their house twice more, on days when he needs it and doesn't see a reason not to. He brings his wife, the third time, and Dad's extremely polite and Uncle Dean asks her about engineering and Dean enjoys it, from the couch, while she gets the same interrogation he did, and they're driving home with her at the wheel, his eyes on the passing trees, before she says, "They're an interesting couple," and it doesn't strike him, for what may be a mile of blurring distance, why that sentence wasn't quite right.

It should be a shock. It isn't. That it isn't should, itself, be a shock, but he sits with it for a few days, the easy rhythm of heaven sliding around them.

He goes to see his mother, finally. She's in a place on a lakeshore. Her first husband, kind but remote, giving them space. She presses his hands between her own and he goes through the list of answers to all her questions, smiling, feeling déjà vu, and then says, cautious, that he's been to see Dad. "Oh!" she says, and doesn't seem upset. "How is he?"

"Good," he says. They never married, his parents—Dad had told him, much later, that it just didn't occur to him to ask—and he knew they didn't resent each other, but there wasn't much closeness there. He didn't realize how little until he was married himself. Still, he's cautious as he says: "He and my uncle have a place. Uncle Dean, you know?"

Mom sits back in her chair. "Well, then," she says, soft. She's youngish, too. Fifty maybe, her hair shot with grey. "That sounds about right."

He doesn't know how to ask but there's no way to do it other than just—to ask. "What do you know about him?"

Mom smiles, slow, and looks out at the lake. "Honey, your dad's a good man, but I think you know as well as I do that he doesn't give a lot away." Dean follows her look. A boat, far out on the water. Not close enough to hail. "He didn't talk about his brother, much. That said more than I think he knew it did. All those pictures. Well, you remember." She shakes her head, looking down at her lap. "I resented him for a while. A dead man. Silly of me. But then I suppose your dad could have resented Luke, if he'd—cared more. Sorry. That sounds like I'm angry, but I'm not. There just wasn't much left in Sam, that's all. He loved you and he loved someone that wasn't here anymore and there just wasn't room for me, or at least not room for what I needed. I wished I could've known him. Dean, I mean. I would've understood your dad a lot more, I think, but then—I don't think I would've ever met him, if Dean were around."

When he gets home he pulls a book off the shelf. Frail, the spine cracked badly. Supernatural, the first book in the whole series. When Dad was at college and the whole thing started. He sits on the floor by the bookshelf and lets the cup of tea his wife brings go cold on the rug, and reads again and again the scene—coming down the stairwell, finding the car in the garage, going through the details of the voice on the tape, on where their dad (Dean's grandfather) could possibly be, and Dad says there's this interview he can't skip. His whole future, on a plate. In the story, it's Dad's point of view, and he looks at Uncle Dean and Uncle Dean smirks, and Dad thinks, This is exactly what I was getting away from. Dean drags his thumb over the page, looks at the shelf. All those books. All the years in them, and the horrors in those. Hell, and apocalypse, and none of it euphemisms or easy metaphor. All the things Dad wanted to get away from—and then all the years, after, where he stayed exactly where he was. And then—a lifetime later—to come back home to a house, with a blue door, and his eyes not bothering to follow his brother as he leaves a room, because he knows without doubt that he'll be back.

In bed, he asks his wife, "When do you think the kids will get here?" and she turns over and stares at him, and says, "Hopefully not for years?"

He shakes his head, folds his arm under his head. "Duh," he says, and gets her to punch his chest lightly. "Ow. I meant… I don't know. What do you think their lives will be? Like… who will they be? I can't even imagine."

She stops trying to lightly beat him and goes thoughtful. Her thumb finds the little scar on her chin and rubs it, as is her habit, and her eyes slip over his shoulder to the distance. "They'll be—them." He raises his eyebrows, and she shrugs, rolling closer. "I mean, what do you want from me? I knew Abbie for fifty-one years and I still think that girl's a mystery. When she's… probably a grandmother herself, now, I guess. Is she still at Notre Dame? Are she and Andre happy? Are the boys healthy and do they like each other, and did she ever get Jacob to stop drawing cartoon dicks on the walls?" Dean laughs—god, he'd forgotten that—and she smiles at him, props her head on one fist. Says, softer, "Did she live the life she wanted to have? I don't know. I guess when she gets here we can ask her, but we'll never…"

No, they'll never. Dean touches the scar on her chin and she focuses on him, instead of some other world they're no longer privy to. "It's a venn diagram," he says, after a moment. "All of us. Abbie, overlapping with you and me, and then us overlapping with our parents, and on and on, all the way back. I guess we don't get to know what's outside the center parts."

"Even if there's a hundred and four crappily-written books about the other parts," she says, raising her eyebrows, and Dean shrugs, caught. She grins, shaking her head at him, and then squirms in close, tucking in under his chin. Kisses his throat, sighs. "Why not stop at a hundred? Seems random."

"I don't know, maybe the publisher wanted him to stretch it out," Dean says, and she hums, and puts her nose on his collarbone to settle in. He smooths her hair back, away from her shoulder. His favorite book is Swan Song, probably. The final one, as far as most people knew. His dad, the hero, saving humanity and the world, but that wasn't the best part. The best part was the army man, stuck in the door. His dad, looking at that, and meeting his brother's eye, and that being—enough. Just that, and all the life it represented. Enough.

"Venn diagrams," he says, aloud, quietly.

"Yes, you're very brilliant, Dr. Winchester," his wife says, mumbling. "Now go to sleep."

He kisses her hair, and does.

[snowywrites]

Yuri x popular Fem!reader

summary: fluffy fic in which the reader sees Yuri while working at a coffee shop and intends to be closer friends with her.

word count: 2.1k

"Y/N!"

You stop in your tracks, turning to scan the tables around you for the source of the voice; it was kind of familiar, and your eyes fall on a customer that's a regular here at the coffee shop. A young man around your age, usually here with his friends but alone today.

You had been about to go make another coffee for a different customer, but you force a service smile onto your face and hurry over to his table. "Hello!" You wrack your brain for a second to bring a name to this man- it wasn't easy keeping track of so many different people, and not just at your job! You also tried to keep tabs on the majority of your peers from school, too. Fortunately, it clicks a moment later. "Hatsumi, was everything alright?" You ask, noting he's already finished his pastry and drink.

Hatsumi grins, clearly pleased you had remembered him. Customers tended to get really happy over little things like that... if only they knew you did this with all of them. It was no secret you were one of the favorites here at the little shop, consistently getting better tips than many of your coworkers. "It was great!" He answers you brightly.

You nod and inquire politely, "Would you like me to go ahead and bring the bill out now?"

A moment of hesitation, and then, "Oh- uh, yes, thanks." He seems a bit disappointed, but you don't have time to dwell on it right now, not with how busy today's rush hour is. The only good thing is you're hopefully going to be getting off in about a half hour.

You assure him you'll be right back and then flit off to the counter to ring up the items he'd ordered and print the bill. As you're doing so, you feel a tap on your shoulder.

Glancing up, you see your favorite coworker, a girl several years older than you. "Y/N," she begins, a bit of a pleading look in her eyes that means she's about to ask you for a favor.

Biting back a sigh, you push down whatever annoyance you have at being interrupted to look expectantly at her. "What's up?"

"Can we please switch tables really quickly?" She practically begs you.

Switching tables wasn't too terribly uncommon- sometimes when guests came in, the baristas would know them outside of work and might ask a coworker to deal with the order and anything else.

"Sure," you giggle, ever the people-pleaser. You had a reputation to keep, after all! You don't like to brag, but you do enjoy the fact that you have many different friends and are well-liked by just about everyone you know. "Who?"

She gives a hop of delight. "Can I take the bill to Hatsumi?"

You can't help but smirk mischievously. "Ohhhhh, I see."

She lightly smacks you on the arm, instantly blushing. "Nono, I just-"

You cut her off before she can defend herself, knowing the two of you don't really have the time to waste playing around. "It's no worries. And who's that order for?" You question as you point at the circular silver tray in her hands which is holding a cute polka-dotted cup of tea.

"Ah, this goes to table three, the girl with the purple hair."

You nod, exchanging the bill for the tray. You want to watch and see what will happen between your friend and Hatsumi, if anything, but when you look towards the designated table, already heading for it, you realize you recognize the girl sitting there.

You have no trouble recalling her name. One of the members of your Literature Club, Yuri...

You haven't actually been in the club all that long at all, maybe a week-ish, and you feel like you haven't had any time at all to get properly acquainted with Yuri. Part of you feels that it's a shame, because you get the sense she's a very interesting and sweet person beneath her quiet and distant shell. It's just hard when she's always reading, and even in the rare moments she's not, she doubts herself so much during conversations with you that it just ends up being a bit weird.

But not today! No, you're suddenly filled with a sense of determination to get closer to Yuri.

You consider playfully scaring her when you walk up, but ultimately decide against it; aside from being naturally timid anyway, she's also, as usual, reading, and doesn't seem aware of anything going on in the shop around her. So, yeah, best to use a more gentle approach.

"Hey, you," you say, putting all the friendliness in your voice as possible, stopping beside the table to greet her.

In spite of everything, Yuri still jumps a bit in her seat, violet gaze flashing up to you in alarm.

'So much for trying not to scare her,' you think unhappily. Pushing that thought away, you give her a reassuring smile. "Sorry, it's just me! Y/N. We're in the Literature Club together," you try to remind her, wondering with a pang of horror if she's actually forgotten who you are. That would be a first for you.

A second of silence, but at last Yuri's tense grip on her book loosens, and she glances down at it, avoiding making eye contact. "O-Oh, I'm sorry."

Another awkward beat of silence. This was what you meant!! It always went like this with Yuri, and you wished more than anything that you knew how to make her more comfortable around you. Hoping to carry the burden of saving this interaction, you laugh nervously, "It's no worries! But, you didn't forget me, did you?" As much as you're just trying to joke around, there really is a slight feeling of hurt that that may very well have been the case.

Yuri stiffens, quickly answering, "No, I- I didn't!" It's a rushed response, louder than you've ever heard her speak and yet still quieter than most people's normal speaking voice. As if embarrassed by her small outburst, she ducks her head to add quietly, "Uhm, that is- I just meant that... I wouldn't ever forget you, Y/N."

Oh. Talk about giving someone butterflies. You never knew what to expect with Yuri- sometimes she could never get her words out, but then other times she'd say something with such a deep meaning that it would catch you entirely off guard. What's odd though is you know for a fact how truly sincere she is; Yuri is the type of person that's much deeper than most people, and she wouldn't say something if she didn't really think or believe it.

"Thank you, Yuri," you say warmly, setting her tea down near her on the table. "Here you go! I like this kind, too." Truthfully, since you hadn't taken the order yourself or even made the drink, you weren't 100% sure what kind of tea this was, but you were willing to try anything to make Yuri more at ease. It also wasn't unheard of for you to make conversation with customers, even if it was busier than usual right now- for once though, you weren't aiming to make a good tip or secure a regular customer. You genuinely wanted to talk with her. "Hey, is that the same book you're reading at the club?" You question after catching a glimpse of the cover art.

She shakes her head, causing some of her bangs to fall into her face. Brushing them out of the way, she frowns and then nods. "W-Well, kind of. I finished that one yesterday... this is the sequel," she explains.

"It must be pretty good if you want to read the next part already," you comment. "What's it about?"

As predicted, Yuri noticeably perks up. "Oh, I think you would really enjoy it, Y/N. It's about-"

"Y/N!"

You flinch at the stern voice of your shift supervisor, who apparently hadn't realized Yuri was speaking when he cut her off.

You glance back to see him gesturing at you in clear annoyance, motioning to the line of guests waiting for their drinks to be made. You nod, signaling you'll be right over.

Focusing back on Yuri, you're unable to mask your disappointment. "I'm sorry, I've gotta get back to work. I'm supposed to be off in a little bit though."

Yuri seems to also be discouraged, apologizing for keeping you, even though you're the one who had intentionally kept the talk going. She bites her lip, and then, probably overtaken by a brief moment of courage, suggests, "When you get off, maybe then I could tell you about the books?"

You're stunned, but at the same time, this was precisely what you'd been hoping for! "Yes, sure! That sounds great. I'll see you then!" You chirp, hurrying away.

The last of your shift passes by rather quickly, and when it comes time to clock out, you actually have to tell your supervisor no, you can't stay another extra hour even if they are busy, because you have plans! Normally you would have, but not today.

You meet Yuri at the door and the two of you leave the coffee shop together. The sun is close to setting, but not quite there yet. "Thank you again, Yuri! I like spending time with you, I've just been a little busy lately," you say.

Yuri mumbles something you can't quite hear, but then adds more clearly, "I-I'm glad..."

"So," you begin, clasping your hands behind you and beaming at her. "About those books!"

That's all it takes for Yuri to dive into an explanation of the main plot points as the two of you walk side by side towards your home.

You're more than a bit tired from work and standing on your feet for so long, but it's nice to have company on the walk back, especially someone like Yuri. You hum and comment every so often, honestly thinking that they did sound like the sort of books you would enjoy. Full of fantasy and mystery and thrills... and of course, romance.

"So, the main character ditches his friend, who's been with him the whole time, for the new girl? And she's from the enemy's group?" You surmise.

Yuri hesitates. "I don't want to spoil anything for you if you're wanting to read them for yourself..."

"Such a tease," you sigh, pretending to be betrayed. "Oh, we're here- this is my house."

The two of you stop at the gate leading to the front yard of your home, and you're positive you aren't imagining the plaintive expression on Yuri's face. You didn't really want your time together to end either, but alas, you both have classes tomorrow.

"If- If you really would like, you can borrow the first book from me," offers Yuri. "And then... you'll see for yourself how it all goes."

You nod enthusiastically. "Yes, please! Thank you, that's really sweet of you! We can discuss it too after I'm finished reading it. I think I already know who my favorite character is going to be, though."

Yuri tilts her head curiously. "Who would that be?"

"Nope! It's a secret, for now." You pause, glancing up at the darkening sky. "Will you be okay walking home by yourself?"

Her violet eyes soften at your concern. "Yes, I don't live very far from here."

You find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye to Yuri, an uncertain quiet settling over the two of you, but she doesn't seem to find it awkward. "Okay, if you're sure. Do you mind giving me your phone number, though?"

She starts in surprise, a dusting of pink covering her cheeks. "U-Uhm- I- you-?"

"So you can text me when you get home," you quickly defend your reasoning, feeling a bit shy yourself at Yuri's reaction. She really was unique- most people tried to play it cool when asking for or giving numbers.

"R-Right," she stammers, reciting it off for you, and her phone buzzes at the quick text message you sent her so she would have your number.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, at the Literature Club," you finally say, already looking forward to it. "And don't forget to bring the book, please!"

Yuri steps back, her gaze on the ground but you still see her smile to herself. "Yes, I will. Bye, Y/N." She seems like she has something else she wants to say, but then she gives herself a shake and quickly turns away, her long hair twirling to follow her.

You watch her go until you can't see her anymore, partly due to wanting to make sure she was safe.

You couldn't help but admire her for her intelligence and beauty, even if she seemed to admire your social skills in return. Hopefully this was the start of a very deep relationship with Yuri.

[wutheringmights]

I just read the newest chapter and I loved it! ♥ ♥ ♥ I was wondering if you had some hcs about the engineer that you could share?

Awww I'm glad you like it! I just spent 5 minutes trying to figure out what "HCS" meant before realizing I'm a tired idiot who can't read lol

But yeah! I got some headcanons for the engineer/Spirits I can share!

These headcanons are a mix of things I generally believe for any iteration of the Hero of Spirits and a few things exclusive to CTB. It's pretty obvious which are which.

Technically this is slight spoilers since most of this is not mentioned in-story, but Warriors is a such a self-centered asshole that I'm not sure when I can get him to explicitly ask about Spirit's backstory lol

This got super long and kind of just became me talking about Spirits's entire backstory, so enjoy:

Spirits is sixteen during the course of Spirit Tracks, mostly because that was the vibe I got from him when I first played the game (I made him younger for CTB)

He's not descendant from Wind (who I maintain disappeared instead of settling in New Hyrule); instead, he's Aryll's great grandson

His family name used to be Outset, but when everyone who originally immigrated from Outset island took on that last name, they changed it to Aryll to reflect the family matriarch

So Spirit's full name is Link Aryll, though there is a branch of his family that uses Macaryll instead

The Aryll/Macaryll family is huge; everyone has at least six aunts and uncles on all sides of the family and they can trace back how they are related to Aryll

"I'm Grandma Aryl's third son's second daughter's fifth child." -someone Spirits is related to, probably

He actually never met his great grandmother; she died before he was born.

Spirit's dad was full-blooded Lokomo while his mother was Hylian; his mother passed a few months after he was born after never truly recovering from childbirth while his father died in a fishing accident when he was eight

He went to live with an aunt and uncle who owned a general store; their relationship was polite at best. The aunt and uncle told Spirits upfront that they intended to give the store over to his cousin when he was older so Spirits needed to come up with his own life plan

Spirits didn't necessarily mind since he never wanted to work in a store for the rest of his life, but the ultimatum made it clear that they didn't care for him like a son

To this day, their relationship isn't strained and he doesn't hate them. But whenever they meet, he's overly polite; they're more acquaintances than family

He's cool with his cousin though. They have different interests so they aren't best friends, but they're okay.

Spirits also always had his spirit-sensing abilities. It's really like a sixth sense to him, as normal and automatic as seeing and hearing; he actually didn't realize this wasn't normal until he was a little older

His abilities at this point are limited to sensing vague ideas of a person's spirit (if they're light or dark, etc.), and seeing ghosts (which are really rare. You have to have a lot of power yourself to become one)

(Note: I'm not the only one who headcanons Spirits as having spirit sensing abilities; if you know who can up with the idea, please let me know so that I can tag/credit them!)

The elder of his village told him that select Lokomo had minor spirit sensing abilities, and those who did were traditionally made elders of their villages; being more of a follower than a leader, Spirits adamantly dismissed that idea and refused to be trained on how to hone his spirit senses. He also never learned any of the religion behind it

Which was a little worrisome since his abilities are way stronger than most

Besides, he's always liked trains and it's been his dream to travel around the kingdom as an engineer; being some town's elder would get in the way of that

Anyway, Spirits had to pass a written exam before being accepted as an apprentice engineer, so he's very studious and has a lot of drive (pun unintended?)

He went to live with his Uncle Niko during his apprenticeship in another town; Niko isn't related to him, but he's been a friend of the family for so long that everyone secretly thinks he's actually related to someone and they just forgot who

Niko is his real family, hands down. Those two are as thick as thieves and bring out the wild side in each other

A preteen Spirits used to think Niko was a little lame and kind of embarrassing, but now that he's older, he's all for Niko's weird old man-ness and has even picked up on some of his weird old man-ness himself

That being said, they're both disasters. Neither can clean or cook or do any kind of housekeeping and their shared house is cluttered with Niko's art projects and Spirit's half-finished tinkering

Growing up, Spirits had no idea he was related to the legendary Hero of Wind; Aryll died before he was born, but even in life she was filled with too much grief over her missing brother to discuss it often. Within the family, being related to the Hero of Wind is a rumor at best.

Of course, Niko knows but keeps it a secret from Spirits; once he got back from his LU-adventure, Wind told Niko about the curse of the Hero's Spirit. Then he went missing post-New Hyrule's founding, which really drove the terror of the curse home. Niko thought he could keep Wind's family from falling victim to it by not inadvertently encouraging them to follow in Wind's footsteps

So Niko kept it a secret

And obviously, that didn't work

Spirits' quest to save New Hyrule resulted in him realizing that he needed to embrace his Lokomo heritage and get a handle on his spirit powers; Anjean gave him a little training during his quest but afterwards he traveled around the kingdom to find as many people as he could with abilities like his

They were all really excited to teach him what they knew, especially the religious aspects of the abilities; Spirits is still not the most religious person, but he at least understands and embraces the cultural significance of what he is able to do

This is where he learned how to read a person's Spirit to get an idea of their life experiences and the kind of person they're like; he can also detect where a person is without having to put much effort into it

At Zelda's encouragement, he also got more sword training from the Castle Guard. She offered him a place among them, but he turned it down in favor of remaining an engineer. He still helps around as a swordsman when he can and will act as Zelda's body guard

Speaking of which, he and Zelda are 100% in love. Their relationship started out as puppy love but over the years as matured into a deep connection built on mutual respect

When he's working on designing new engines or parts for his trains, he occasionally brings his drafting materials to the castle gardens so that he can work alongside Zelda; sometimes she falls asleep leaning against his arm and he has to be careful not to shake her awake as he works

Whenever she need to go anywhere in the kingdom, she rides in his train and teasingly criticizes his conducting; he takes a lot of pride in his conducting, but he lets her get away with it since her critiques are objectively hilarious

He keeps a tiny pictograph of her taped to his dashboard

But there's a bit of a problem with their relationship, and it's that he doesn't know if he wants to be the prince consort or not. He does love her, but that would mean giving up being an engineer in favor of being stuck at the castle all of the time

Plus, he's doing great as an engineer; he's saving up to open his own garage that produces his own train designs

Eventually, he leaves for the War of Eras

His experiences with Warriors leaves him more sure than ever that he doesn't want to be the prince consort, resulting in him ending his relationship with Zelda shortly after he returns home

It hurts for a long time to be around her since all of his old feelings keep coming back, so he keeps his distance for a long time; it takes a few years for him to go back to hanging out with Zelda as friends

But now she's approaching marriage age, and he spends a lot of time when he's on body guard duty super jealous of these princes and ambassadors from foreign kingdoms who try to court her

But again, he knows he can't be in a relationship with her so he respectfully and silently pines over her (I'm just a sucker for pining, okay?)

Okay, more random headcanons that are a little less sad

Spirits likes super spicy food, but since he can't cook to save his own life, he just eats whatever he can get his hands on

He's super dirty all of the time, just the epitome of scrappy; there's always a smear of oil somewhere on his person

He actually really hates bathing and only keeps his curly hair in check to comply with train safety regulations

He's really polite and a little shy, but once he loosens up, he gets talkative and personable

He's also very contemplative; he likes conducting so much because he gets to spend long stretches of time alone with nothing but his thoughts

His trauma/stress response is to shut down; he goes quiet, loses energy, and sleeps for longer periods of time

He tends to gravitate towards socializing with people who are older than him, which gets him labeled as being no fun by his peers (despite having someone as cooky as Niko for a uncle)

Post-adventure, his best friend is Linebeck III. They're drinking buddies. Neither can really explain why they even like hanging out as much as they do

(I just like the idea of Linebeck accidentally getting attached to one kid and his whole bloodline getting forever tangled with Wind's; they're bros for multiple lifetimes)

Not only is Spirits good at designing and building new machinery, but he's great at tinkering; he can fix almost anything and will buy broken things on purpose just to have something to fix

No one really knows he's a hero; he doesn't like the attention and, at his request, Zelda did her best to keep his involvement with Malladus a secret

Because not many common people know about his adventure and records of New Hyrule are very rare, he's considered in Warrior's time to be a forgotten hero; some scholars believe that a Hero of Spirits may have once existed, but if he did, no one really knows who he was or what he did to serve the bloodline of Hylia

[effei-s]

What shatter-me Warner would do.

The fastest character assassination I’ve ever seen.

Here’s the thing: Warner from original trilogy had character arch. More important: he was a character.

He was mean, villainous, cold, cruel murderer, with daddy who basically bought him regency (like come on, if it wasn’t for Anderson no one would even think about giving him that position; n for nepotism), but he also was deeply traumatized and abused his whole life and had little to none normal human interactions. I loved that fact that the only good thing he did (killing Fletcher because he was abusing his family) resolved into a complete catastrophe (Anderson killing children and wife) because Warner didn’t think it through. He tried to do the right thing and failed miserably, because he was more concerned with making a spectacle for Juliette. And after that he still had the audacity to paint himself as a hero who saved poor family from terrible tyrant in Ignite me.

I didn’t expect him to act and think like a human being. He didn’t need to act like a normal human. Warner gas lighting Juliette in the first third of ignite me is Warner’s thing to do. Him yelling and throwing tantrums and making scenes in Unravel me is Warner’s thing to do. Him forcing Juliette to do things she doesn’t want and traumatizing her in the process in Shatter me is Warner’s thing to do. Him wanting to torture Adam to death is Warner’s thing to want.

There’s a few reasons for this:

a) he doesn’t know how to communicate with people other than giving them orders or making threats;

b) he truly believes that he’s in the right here (he doesn’t see himself as a bad guy in Juliette story, more like a knight on a white horse);

c) he’s physically unable to be honest with himself and always has someone to blame for his own mistakes and failures;

d) he’s ‘results justify the means’ kind of guy.

Changes for good, with trauma that deep, when you basically don’t have a moral compass, don’t happen over night.

Was his ignite-me arch made sloppy? Yes. Everything was too info-dumpy and too convenient (Juliette forgetting that Warner was going to torture Adam to death; Juliette feeling that she’s the one who needs to apologize; Leila’s entire character used only for a sob story; Adam turned into a douchebag so Warner would look a more suitable love interest, etc). But it still was an arch. And the finale of ignite me was so open I really could imagine that, little by little, in the future, he will start to trust people more and really gonna help Juliette and co to make the world a better place. And his redemption arch wasn’t finished in the slightest, and I would even say that it was only the beginning of it, but it was implied that things will get better from there (the most important part of that being him genuinely wanting to make things right with Adam and James; he’s the one who makes the first step and initiate the bond).

So what went wrong in new three books? Ehm… everything, to be honest. Instead of developing a character that was already there, she decided to give him a new personality. Actually it can be said about every single one of characters, but Warner just happened to be the biggest victim of them all.

Let’s look at Restore me.

Okay, we have his pov, and I never thought I would say it but… Warner is kinda dumb. He’s supposed to be this military strategy genius, someone who knows how RE works from within and… it turns out that he just as clueless as Juliette. More than this, we never actually see him do ANYTHING except fucking Juliette. And for some reasons he never helps Juliette with her work??? There’s so much paperwork and instead of helping her to sort though it he’s… just not there???

Those stupid long monologues about how she’s capable to do anything mean nothing if he doesn’t actually help (as we can see at the end of restore me, when Juliette gets captured).

That fact that he doesn’t immediately check if Castle’s words are true? And instead of helping Juliette with Haider (telling everything he knows about him and his family, preparing her for the dinner) he fucks her??? This is a dumb bitch shit. And maybe you didn’t noticed but Shatter-me Warner wasn’t a dumb bitch.

After all, there’s a simple reason I never wanted the job of supreme commander myself—

I never wanted the responsibility.

It’s a tremendous amount of work with far less freedom than one might expect; worse, it’s a position that requires a great deal of people skills. The kind of people skills that include both killing and charming a person at a moment’s notice. Two things I detest.

Remember shatter-me Warner who wanted power because power meant that he could have control over his life? Remember shatter-me Warner who wanted to work with Juliette as a team to change the world? Yeah that’s him now.

No personal ambitions allowed when you’re a walking dildo, I guess.

Off the topic, but Mafi really enjoys making Juliette stupid as fuck:

“Oh, yes, of course,” she says, remembering. “I’ve gotten a bunch of letters about that. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

Let's continue.

Hurting Haider would be enough to start a world war.

Warner says and then Juliette threatens Haider, a foreign official on a diplomatic mission, and instead of being even a little bit worried and think about possible consequences, Warner thinks this:

But I can only smile at her. I want to scoop her up and carry her away. Take her somewhere quiet and lose myself in her.

Okay, I guess it’s official, there’s sperm inside of his head instead of brain cells. I can’t find any other explanation for this clownery.

Shatter-me Warner would… Shatter-me Warner won’t be in this situation in the first place.

Someone tries to kill Juliette and Warner does… nothing about it. He never goes to check the body of the assassin himself. He thinks that Nazeera hides something and he still allows her to go around and doesn’t even interrogate her when Juliette says that Nazeera was there at the moment of the attack. He doesn’t find it even a little bit suspicious? That guy who had tremendous trust issues in the original trilogy? Remember him? Yeah, that guy. Shatter-me Warner would lock Nazeera and Haider up and demanded answers. Shatter-me Warner would be angry as fuck, and would try to kill Kenji with his bare hands, because Kenji was stupid enough to leave Juliette alone. Shatter-me Warner wouldn’t stop until he had answers (and the head of a person who wanted to kill Juliette on a plate).

New Warner is too busy feeling sorry for himself to actually do anything about it. And after one chapter it’s completely forgotten, like that fact that someone tried to kill her is not important at all.

And then Castle enters the picture with his stupid and sloppy info-dumping (I guess Mafi never heard of ‘show don’t tell’ rule). And says this:

“She can’t lead this resistance,” he says, squinting at something in the distance. “She’s too young. Too inexperienced. Too angry. You know that, don’t you?”

and if that wasn’t enough he also says this:

“It should’ve been you,” Castle says. “I always secretly hoped—from the day you showed up at Omega Point—that it would’ve been you. That you would join us. And lead us.” He shakes his head. “You were born for this. You would’ve managed it all beautifully.”

AND HE’S STILL ALIVE AFTER?

This is a fucking treason right there. And Warner A-OKAY with this.

Shatter-me Warner would strangle him right there. Or better yet, he would go along with this until he has 100% evidences of Castle’s betrayal and then he would kill him. Or he would kill him simply because Castle was withholding important information and earlier in books he put Juliette in a great danger by sending her to Anderson without telling her the truth (unravel me).

But not this Warner. New Warner is far more concerned with fucking Juliette then helping her or looking for a way out of this situation (because now he has dick instead of a brain).

After my father’s revelation, my thirst for information became suddenly insatiable. I needed to know more—who these people were, where they’d come from, how much we’d known—

WHERE AND WHEN DID WARNER IN PREVIOUS BOOKS DISPLAY THIS?

When I say that Mafi simply forgot her own characters this is what I mean. Warner from original trilogy didn’t give a flying fuck about them. He thought that they were weak and stupid.

I will lose her.

And it will kill me.

He said this shit and after he nearly had a panic attack because he imagined her dating someone else? Oh, come on, how more pathetic can he get?

There are words for this kind of behavior: toxic codependency.

Oh wait wait! I know! This is not Warner! This is Edward Cullen disguised as Warner! The mystery is solved!

Oh, he fucks her again. Apparently it’s the only thing he’s good at. What a character! The layers! The complexity!

And then Lena came into the picture.

Until that moment I was more or less okay with Warner. Yes, I was very confused, but I was ready to give Mafi benefit of the doubt. He lost his father and was dealing with grieve. We all can act out of character in the face of a tragedy or drastic changes.

“Why do you keep pressing this? Who cares if I’ve been with other women? They meant nothing to me—”

And there I felt in my guts, I’m not gonna like what next to come.

Haider was exhibiting suicidal tendencies. Self-harming. And I got really scared. I called Warner because I knew Haider would listen to him.” She shakes her head. “Warner didn’t say a word. He just got on a plane. And he stayed with us for a couple of weeks. I don’t know what he said to Haider,” she says. “I don’t know what he did or how he got him through it, but”—she looks off into the distance, shrugs—“it’s hard to forget something like that.

Oh, so Warner's words about how he never had any real interactions with anyone before Juliette were bullshit. About how he doesn’t understand people were also bullshit. About how Juliette was the first person who was not afraid to speak with him freely were also bullshit. Because all of the sudden he can help someone heavily depressed. Someone with suicide tendencies? Someone who harms himself? And now he has an ex-girlfriend who’s ready to beat the fuck out of him and calls him mean words (she clearly doesn’t fear him)?

Now his entire character in the first trilogy doesn’t make any sense. And his excuses don’t make any sense.

Bravo, Mafi! Bravo! This was the fastest character assassination I’ve ever seen.

She says that Lena was in love with him—really in love with him—but that Warner broke her heart, that he never treated her with any real affection and she’s hated him for it.

Oh, so he’s not only stupid and absolutely useless, he’s a fuckboy. And if there’s one thing I HATE, it’s fuckboys.

There’s a big-big-big difference between someone who has one-night-stands and THIS SHIT:

“You’re upset, I understand. But it’s not my fault you feel this way. I don’t love you. I never have. And I never led you to believe I did.”

“She and I,” he says, “it was—we were nothing. It was a relationship of convenience and basic companionship. It meant nothing to me. Truly,” he says, “you have to know—if I never said anything about her it was only because I never thought about her long enough to even consider mentioning it.”

“It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t two years of anything serious. It wasn’t even two years of continuous communication.” He sighs. “She lives in Europe, love. We saw each other briefly and infrequently. It was purely physical. It wasn’t a real relationship—”

So he despised her but used her for sex? WOW. Cool. He can go and trip over a fucking knife or fall out of the window for all I care.

“Everything in my life was different before I met you,” he says. “I was lost and all alone. I never cared for anyone. I never wanted to get close to anyone. I’ve never—you were the first person to ever—”

And how exactly he was able to help Haider with his self-harm then??? If he didn’t CaRe for anyone before Juliette?

This was the moment when Warner from original trilogy died in agony.

Okay, let’s see real quick what we have in Defy Me:

He thinks about escape but never really does anything to escape;

(anderson is the one who opens his cell;

he stands in front of a guy who murdered his mother and doesn’t even think about her, yeah I can see how important she was for him;

/again, shatter-me Warner would probably demanded answers, but not walking dildo, walking dildo cares only about Juliette. his excuse in ignite me 'i did it all for my mom' doesn't make any sense now, because he actually doesn't give a flying fuck about her/

he gets captures one minute after he “kills” Anderson;

nazeera is the one who gets him out of there;

super soldier taught his whole life how to survive, everyone. useless as fuck)

He doesn’t know anything about jewelry.

(super ooc, i know what Mafi was trying to do here: she tried ‘sherlock holmes doesn’t know that earth revolves around the sun’ thing Arthur Conan Doyle did, but the problem is WARNER IS A FASHIONISTA, or he was).

He wants to get married because…???

He sees a woman who tried to kill Juliette and he’s a-okay with staying at her place, because she said that it was actually a message (???).

Castle is still alive.

Nazeera who knew all this time about Anderson and was working for him is also alive and well.

Oh and he doesn’t care about Anderson being alive and being a real threat to Juliette (fucking her is more important for him, as usual).

His complete disregard for Juliette’s safety only makes me hate him more with every new book.

Imagine me.

First and foremost: don’t call imagine-me Warner shatter-me Warner. Don’t insult shatter-me Warner like that. With shatter-me Warner Anderson would have to try very hard to get to Juliette. It would be ‘Warner made 100 back-up plans, but Anderson knew him too well and created 101 plan and that’s how he managed to win’ kind of situations.

But walking dildo is too busy feeling sorry for himself (as usual), he just sits by her bed FOR TWO FUCKING DAYS, doing absolutely NOTHING to make sure she’ll be safe.

Nooira says that Juliette should be killed and she’s still alive for some reason.

He’s entire persona is that he’s rude to people (but not bbc’s sherlock holmes kind of rude, when he’s unbearable dick but he’s actually smart and really gets shit done, so we can tolerate him). He’s just rude.

He doesn't care about Adam or James's wellbeing (remember Ignite me Warner who really wanted a family? Yeah that's him now).

But he has gruppies now, because he’s hot and everyone in the sanctuary wants to fuck him.

Oh and he proposed to Juliette. HE PROPOSED. THEY ENGAGED! DO YOU HEAR ME??? THEY GONNA BE MARRIED! HE PROPOSED TO HER! AND SHE SAID YES! THEY GONNA MERRY!

Because god fucking forbid we forget about it.

(mafi really thinks that her readers have the mental capacity of a golden fish, huh?)

I lost count how many times walking dildo implies that he's gonna kill himself if Juliette is not with him (disgusting).

Then our walking dildo cures Juliette by the power of petting (it’s not power of love, lads and gents; you want to see love go watch defenders on netflix; mafi already copypasted elektra’s arch from that show into imagine-me Juliette, you can do yourself a favor and see how this trope can be executed without borderline on sexual assault petting scene).

18-old girl marries a fucking sociopath believing he’s actually a good person.

(we all know how shit like this ends, people like that don't change; and this 'he's different with me cuz i'm very special and i'm gonna teach him the right way' it's really harmful message considering that the audience of those books are mostly teenage girls).

Trust me, there's nothing revolutionary in this trope, it's tale as old as time.

Here's the thing, good written character always defined by connection to other people: friend, lovers, enemies, family, foes, acquaintances, even some random strangers. It's the easiest way to establish what kind of person they are.

Walking dildo doesn't have any of that because all of his "character" revolves around Juliette. He's not a person anymore. By the end of Imagine me he doesn't have friends (his relationships with Kenji or Haider non-existent), no family connections (no talks with Adam or James), even enemies or foes or even people that don't like him (because everyone wants to fuck him, because being hot is his only character trait).

His only family and friend is Juliette. And you know what? It's fucking boring, overdone and lazy as fuck. And insulting to the character he once was.

No redemption arch, no character arch at all.

Happy end.

[alchemania]

Barbara, and Bennett: Toxic Positivity (and how they each exude it)

While it's easy to spot negative toxic behavior, toxic positivity can be harder to recognize and pin down. In this blog, I am going to analyze 2 characters in Genshin and explain just how they show traits of toxic positivity. (I originally was going to include Jean, but I already covered her in an earlier blog so it'd just be redundant)

Barbara Page

Barbara is all smiles and sunshine, trying her best to ensure that everyone is happy. However; she does this to an unhealthy degree and often does not prioritize her emotional wellbeing.

#1: Forcing herself to always be happy.

Barbara's story lines state that she "only allows herself to be depressed for 30 seconds" and that after that, she basically puts on a smile; regardless of what she's actually feeling. She often talks about how good everyone is to her, and I honestly believe that Barbara invalidates her own depression because in her eyes; she has a good life and there's no "reason" for her to be sad, plus if she was sad then everyone else would feel down. She hasn't experienced anything traumatic, so how can she have the right to be depressed? But the thing is, she has: her parents divorced when she was young; and Barbara grew up apart from Jean, leading to a lack of a relationship between the two. While the divorce, based on Jean's story lines, did not seem to have a lot of negativity around it (from what I can tell Simon and Frederica actually split on amiable terms, they just fell out of love with each other), it still affected Barbara in a negative way and no doubt she is hurting from it but she's not acknowledging her pain. All trauma is not the same, this is true. But all trauma IS valid; just because someone is hurting less doesn't mean they're NOT hurting and Barbara needs to understand that her pain is valid and give herself time to process it.

#2: Lack of emotional boundaries

If there's anything that Jean and Barbara have in common besides both being healers, it's that they're absolutely terrible at saying no. In Barbara's hangout, she feels guilty for avoiding Albert and wanting to be left alone despite being emotionally exhausted and even wants to apologise, despite doing nothing wrong. Later on when her fans ask for autographs; she agrees, despite being off the clock and trying to take a break: Aether has to step in personally to get people to go away, and not only that; he has to lie through his teeth in order to do so. If you tell the NPCs the truth ("Barbara is currently on leave, please don't disturb her",) they'll reply "Oh she's on leave? Perfect time to ask for an autograph!" They don't care about her feelings; all they care about is what she can do for them and the worst part is that Barbara lets them treat her like this. It's so bad that the Knights have to constantly step in and rescue her because folks can't get it in their heads that off the clock =/= available; and Barbara feels like if she can help other people that she needs to; to the detriment of her own needs. She seems to think it's selfish to put herself first; but looking out for yourself emotionally is anything but. It's okay to say no, it's okay to tell people you're not available. Just because you're free doesn't mean you're up to engage and there's nothing wrong with that. But like Sister Victoria says herself; Barbara is too nice. She gives and gives and gives and expects nothing in return, and people take advantage of that.

#3: Undermining herself through constant praise of others

In her hangout, she tells you that besides singing and healing, she doesn't have anything worthwhile about her, and then goes on about how amazing you are, Jean as well. Barbara doesn't acknowledge her positive traits, and then when she vents to you she apologizes for doing so, since you were supposed to be hanging out and having fun. She puts a lot of her worth in comparison to what other people can DO, and not actual character. Barbara is a lovely person: she's sweet and kind and loving, but because she doesn't see herself as physically strong or powerful, she doesn't think she's worth a lot.

Bennett

My GOD, Bennett is like the EPITOME of toxic positivity.

1. Allows others to mistreat him and take out their feelings on him because he feels it's his fault they're suffering (essentially, a martyr complex)

Bennett's hangout is a prime example of this where when Royce got angry, Bennett simply let him yell until you step in. Due to his almost perpetual bad luck, he feels that he's responsible for the misfortune of the people around him and since he can't physically do anything about it, he attempts to "atone" by letting himself be emotionally assaulted.

He also puts himself in physical danger to keep other people safe (he figures since he's already unlucky, might as well suffer a little more if it means everybody else is okay, right?), and accepts abandonment as the norm since he's a liability. Bennett does not value his wellbeing whatsoever due to constantly being in danger and he seems to be of the mentality "If I'm going to die, at least let me die protecting everybody" and that immensely upsets me that a KID, who's probably no older than 17, is already considering his mortality.

#2: Not allowing himself to process negative emotion

Just like Barbara, Bennett constantly forces himself to always keep a smile on, only in his case it's more to keep himself from getting overwhelmed about his situation. It's heavily implied in his story that Bennett is afraid that he could die any day (and I don't blame him) and so he lives hard and fast because he feels he doesn't have a lot of time. He's cheated death MULTIPLE times (he almost died as a baby, and he almost died prior to receiving his Vision), and Bennett more than likely feels that one day, he's not going to get lucky enough to escape again; and he'll actually die. His life is an entire string of misfortune and unlike Barbara and her parents divorce, Bennett is aware of this trauma: he simply chooses to take it in stride and forces himself to stay upbeat. Which is just as bad as letting negative emotion completely overwhelm him, it's literally just the other ditch.

Bennett also seems very sad about the fact that his team abandoned him but he doesn't let himself process that either (if you respond angrily to the revelation that his teammates left he'll jump to defend them and insist "they had their reasons"- and that may be true, but that doesn't invalidate the trauma and sadness of being left behind because of something you literally cannot control). Similar to Diluc, Bennett is sort of an Atlas of his own right, but instead of carrying all of Mondstat on his shoulders he's shouldering his emotional wellbeing: he refuses to vent to anyone and bottles everything up because he doesn't want to be a burden; but in doing so he's only hurting himself in the long run.

(Thank God for Razor though it seems like he might be hanging around for the long haul and that makes me immensely happy. I could cry. Please don't let anything bad happen to him and Bennett they deserve friendship)

I'm going to go off the beaten path a bit here but, to all you guys reading this; please remember that:

1. Your trauma is valid, regardless of how "lesser" you think it might be.

2. You are not obligated to give yourself emotionally to other people if you are not up to it. You cannot give what you do not have, and if you're not 100% emotionally wise, you really shouldn't be taking on any more negative energy. It's not selfish to take care of yourself. If people can't respect that then they're not worth your time. Set emotional boundaries and don't budge for anyone. The people who are meant to stay will honor your boundaries.

3. It's okay to be sad! And it's okay to be sad and have no idea why. It doesn't matter if you have a 'good life,' depression doesn't care who you are or where you are on your walk of life and sometimes it hits like a truck. Your sadness is valid and don't be afraid to take the time you need to acknowledge and process your negative emotions.

Please take care of yourselves, friends; and be safe.

Have a good day. 💗

[mona-stay]

Prompt - Sweetpea splits up with Josie but he's in love with y/n his long time FRIEND

Pairing Sweetpea x reader (riverdale)

Warning - none really, some angst and maybe worthless feelings

Story

 

Sweetpea had spent most of the night drinking as his relationship with Josie McCoy had ended; he knew it was just a summer fling, but it still hurt in a small way.

For a while Josie had been a distraction for Sweetpea, well every girl he'd dated was. Although he'd never admit it out loud, he was in love with someone else: someone who, in his eyes, was too good for him. She was beautiful, funny, smart, and knew Sweetpea better than anyone. Fangs included. So instead of showing his feelings, he hid them; having strings of one-night stands to block her out of his head and heart. Not one ever worked.

Now he found himself drunk, and once again, on the steps of y/n’s home not knowing what he was gonna say when she opened the door. 

"Looking for me?", her voice behind made him jump.

Turning to face her, he smiled seeing her lifting up a full bottle of vodka. 

"Wanna be my drinking partner?" he shouts; mentally kicking himself for sounding dumb. Why did he always look like a goof around her? He cursed to himself.

You smile back: "Sure", before finding your keys and opening the door. 

This wasn't unusual Sweets. often turned up drunk, looking for his favourite drinking partner. This never bothered you before. In fact, you loved being around Sweetpea, loved being the key word. However, it had been clear for years that he saw you as a friend; a good and close friend, but a friend all the same. There had been numerous times when Sweetpea would put an arm around your shoulders calling you his best friend.

You'd learnt to live with him calling you a best friend, to compartmentalise your feelings. For a while it worked. That was until his fling with Josie started. It hurt seeing them together, maybe because it was more than a one-night stand. Maybe he liked her more than he said.

Mid-way through the summer break you found yourself distancing yourself from Sweetpea and others in the group, taking on more shifts at the Wyrm.

"I thought you'd be home by now?" he asked, while getting glasses out of the cupboard. His pouring out two extra-large drinks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"I've been working the night shift this week. I took Hogeye for 100 in pool tonight". You laughed showing off your winnings, before putting them away.

Pea shook his head. "We really should team up in doubles", he joked, while taking a big swig from his glass.

"You know there would no one to give you a challenge if we did", you teased back. 

That was the thing: no matter your feelings, you both fell into friends mode, in spite of what was going on in your head.

"I'm a bit surprised to see you. I thought you and the Northside lot were camping?" you asked, sensing something was up, as he had drunk more than half of his glass before you had even started.

He rolled his eyes with a snarl across his lips. "Nar... Josie and I were over, so there's no point being there. Who cares? She was just a bit of fun". To anyone else, this would have sounded convincing, jerky even. Others would have bought the Playboy line, but you could see the hurt in his eyes; most likely the same look from which you spent years hiding.

"She's a fool. You deserve someone real, not some fake Northside diva!" you say, trying to sound supportive, yet not too happy with the news.

He finished the rest of his drink, one last massive mouthful. Squinting his eyes as the alcohol burnt his chest on its way down, he said: "couldn't agree more, but who cares? I'm over her".

He wasn't lying. He was over Josie in a way; annoyed at how she blew him off for sure. The emotional connection was gone.

The topic of Josie was dropped pretty much then. For the next few hours, the pair of you listened to music, having your usual debate over which bands were better. You told him about things at the Wyrm: how you'd started taking on the late shifts, helping Hogeye kick out the drunks who wouldn't leave really could be your new calling in life.

"I would have loved to have seen you chucking out Danny. 'Bet he was fuming... " he said, chuckling, while imagining you push a six feet long Serpent out the bar. "What else 'been happening?" he asked.

"Well, two new girls did their Serpent dance. I'm surprised you missed it", you said, knowing Pea never missed a dance, "Showing support", he'd say in defence. Heck, for your dance he was front row and centre. His intense stare kept you focused, staring back at him while you moved and danced.

He laughed, asking if any were fit, earning an eye-roll from you. He was more drunk than normal, possibly giving him both courage and an excuse for his next comment: "never mind newbies. When are you getting back on that pole?" he asked, with a cheeky wink.

You raised your brows at him but couldn't hide the shade of pink your cheeks started turning. "Coz' I work the bar", you answer, not sure from where his comment came.

He stood up, changing the music to a different song. "Well, you're wasted behind a bar. You're one of the best dancers I know" he said, seductively holding out his hand to you. Again, this was something Sweetpea wouldn't dare do prior, even when drunk. But right now he was using it to fuel his actions he'd denied himself for so long.

You took his hand, unsure what was going on his head. He clumsily tugged you, trying to dance. You almost fall over his giant feet, but he caught you in his arms. For the next hour or so the pair of you danced, laughed, and finished Sweet pea’s bottle of vodka, as well as almost one of your own. You were happy; it was just like old times, minus Fangs and Toni.

Sweetpea had spent the past hour building up the courage to make his move even though he didn't exactly know what that was yet. He poured the last of the alcohol into glasses, watching y/n shake her hips, arms over her head. He watched intently as she turned, showing him a full view of her ass. He bit his lips, watching her move as sway. He was holding on to what little restraint he had to not go over and grab it. He smiled as she turned to face him, her eyes were glassy and bright with a smile to match. The song changed, and to his delight it was a slower, sexier one.

He came over close, putting his hands on your hips, moving with your rhythm. Although he'd done this before, something this time felt different. Maybe it was the way he was staring in to your eyes, or the wolfish smirk, which looked  like he was planning something. Or maybe the way it all made you feel. Your heart pound against your chest, your breathing had quickened. Just like putty in his hands.

Sweetpea thought it was now or never. He lifted his hand to your chin, tilting it up as he bent down to capture your lips with his. They were soft, as you always imagined they would be. For a second, you kissed him back, enjoying the thing you had craved for years. His hand, still on your hip, tightened, pulling you closer to him. His kiss deepened when you grabbed his shirt.

You both pulled away. Your mind was hazy with a mix of thoughts running through it at the same time. A few seconds on your head felt like eternity. All your wants here in your hands, yet some rational voice in your head reminded you of his recent break up.

Was this all it was, Sweetpea getting over Josie? Were you his rebound? If so, how will it affect your friendship afterwards? You'd rather not destroy the connection you had, for one night of everything you ever dreamed.

Sweetpea smiled, happy, until he studied your shell-shocked face. He was unable to read whether you liked it or not. A bit worried he moved in for a second kiss, the moment his lips touched he could feel you pushing him away. He took a step, looking confused. "We shouldn't do this", you said, in a low voice.

You saw him tense up, his jaw clenched, as well as his fists. It was only the look in his eyes that showed the sadness he was feeling. "Why?" he asked, through gritted teeth. His tone wasn't angry like he looked.

You swallow hard, partly for not believing what you were saying, wanting to just run back and kiss him again. "You've just split with Josie. I don't want to be your rebound girl. There are enough Southside sluts you can use for that", you say, trying to sound kind in hopes that he'd see your point. "I care about you enough to not let us wreck our friendship like this", you add.

The F-word was like a knife to his chest. You said it, proving his original thoughts, You'd never love him like he loves you. He nodded, not sure what to say, nor trusting his voice not to crack. Turning to finish his drink, he mumbled a weak apology before getting his jacket to leave.

You told him not to leave as he opened the door, but he just gave you a half-smile before walking out. When the door shut, you collapse on the couch, silent tears run down your face as you cradle a cushion. Your heart was screaming, "what have you done?"; your head still trying to think if it was the right thing to do. You went to bed thinking out of all the times you imagined kissing Sweetpea, you'd never imagined it ending with you crying alone.

Sweetpea wasn't feeling much better. He walked out the trailer park, your words running in his head. "Why did I have to kiss her?", he asked himself aloud before punching a beat-up street sign. The first punch felt good, so he hit it again and again until his stamina started to wear. His knuckles were grazed and cut. He opened and closed his fingers, the pain now noticeable. Sinking to the floor, his head in his knees, he finally broke down.

You didn't leave your trailer all of Sunday, not wanting to face the world after the kiss went wrong. However, on Monday, you had to work. Working meant the possibility of running in to Sweetpea. You wanted to see him, but didn't know what to say after pushing him away. The thought of it made you cringe, still regretting your actions.

Outside you can hear the buzz coming from within the bar. Maybe work was a good idea. If it's busy, you won't have time to think. You walked though the door, the first person you saw was him. It didn't help Sweetpea being one of the tallest in there, standing at six-feet three inches. 

He saw you walk inside. Turning back to the pool table, he hit his ball with more force than necessary. He looked up seeing you head to the hatch near to bar, dumping your bag. The sounds of Toni's protest made him look back. "I don't know what's wrong with you today, but if you keep hitting balls like that, you're gonna crack one", she moaned.

He didn't answer her, just took his next shot; it was softer than the last, but the sound of the hit was anything but calm. To add more annoyance to his mood, Cheryl had to open her mouth: "Why's he throwing a fit after my girl, Josie, dumped his ass?", in a sassy remark.

Annoyed, he growled:  "I'm not throwing anything. It was a summer fling. Summer is over now. I couldn't care that it is over", he yells, unconvincingly. Right now he wasn't bothered what they all thought, as long as they didn't know the truth.

Fangs asked what happened but Sweetpea ignored the question, focusing on the game which he was in the middle of. When he didn't answer, Cheryl took delight in spilling the gossip to Fangs. He tried ignoring them but Cheryl's voice was hard to block out, especially when she said things like: "Josie was slumming it with him. A last bit of fun before New York", and "becoming a star, she had to drop the dead weight". With each comment his knuckles got tighter and tighter around his cue.

You walked over with a tray of drinks Toni had ordered. You asked Hogeye to take it, but he wouldn't. The closer you got, the more you heard Cheryl’s comments, basically saying that he wasn't good enough.

On the best of days you didn't like Cheryl; she's loud, obnoxious, and full of herself. You only tolerated her because of Toni's and Jughead's relationships with her, but right now you were struggling to keep your cool.

You could tell Sweetpea was struggling too, his face was like thunder, his knuckles as white as rocks. You wanted to go and tell him that it's okay, to ignore her, but the way he looked at you made you decide against it. You placed the tray down giving Pea a small smile, but he didn't return it. You wished it were because of Cheryl, but knew deep down it was a knock to your friendship.

"Well I have been telling her all summer that she's better off without him", you heard Cheryl say. That was it, you couldn't take any more of her slating him. You span around to face the venomous redhead. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" you snap.

She looked at you with her faux shook, "excuse moi?" she asked in her fake and bitchy way.

You stepped closer so she couldn't mistake you this time. "You heard me. How dare you come here making out he's not good enough." Your arm shot up, pointing at Sweetpea. "He's the nicest, funniest guy going. Your diva-slut mate wasn't slumming it, he's the realest guy that fake bitch will ever have. If you think she was, what does that say about you and MY girl?" This time you gesture towards Toni who was now walking back from the bathroom, unaware as to why her mate and girlfriend looked like they were about to come to blows.

Sweetpea watched you go off at Cheryl, a mix of happy and hurt, listening to you defend him. The argument in front of him faded as he was lost in his own trail of thoughts, only broken when he saw Cheryl slap y/n. That was after you had shoved her back, hard. He dropped his cue, but before it had even touched the floor, she punched Cheryl back.

Both girls attacked each other. Toni dragged Cheryl away, while Sweetpea took you out back to cool off, mainly because he was the only one strong enough to drag you out the bar and handle the kicks or hits that landed his way; something neither of you were a stranger to, what with the past bar fights and scraps.

 

You paced outside, a string of insults at Cheryl coming from your mouth. Sweetpea just watched you in silence, not knowing if he should walk back inside or not. He also wanted to know why you went off like that too. Yes, you'd had fights before, never having started one like that though. When you finally finished ranting, he asked "what was all that about?"

"What? She's vile, and after hearing her talk shit about you... like you're nothing, made my blood boil. Plus, it's about time someone gave her a nose job", you shout back, still angry from the small fight. "The bigger question is: why did you just stand there, and let her talk trash about you in your own place?", you ask, folding your arms.

He shrugged his shoulders in reply, "why bother? It's Blossom, she talks trash about everything; not something to get worked up over. Ignoring her hurts her more", he said, hoping you'd buy his excuse.

You didn't. You knew him better: the sly look to the side, the way he slid his hand down the back of his head. His signals. You took a step forward.

"Yeah that might be true, but there is something you're not saying", you point out.

He doesn't look at you, keeping his eyes to the ground he mumbles, "nothing". He goes to turn away back inside, when you grab his arm. He stopped, his body tense, still not turning back to look at you. So instead, you walked in front of him.

When he finally looked at you, the hurt was visible in his eyes; the same look he gave you when he left that night, the same eyes he had when you entered the bar, and when you first brought the drinks over.

"I've known you for as long as I can remember. I know something's wrong, and you'd normally tell me what's on your mind. Now please stop looking at me like I killed your dog", you plead.

"She's right", he says, whispering. Your brows crossed; you couldn't believe your ears. Was he really saying that he believed those things? "what do you mean?", you asked confused.

"Cheryl, that bitch. She's right about me: I'm not good enough! Tell me something that wasn't a lie! I am trailer trash, a worthless gang member; no real money or goals", he shouted back, releasing his pent-up anger he'd held in all night.

You pushed him hard. "Look. Josie thinks she's the next Beyoncé. You don't need a girl like that. You're more than ten times good enough for girls like Josie and Cheryl, for that matter. You deserve someone who see how incredible you are Pea, someone who will love you the way you are", you say, hoping he'd listen and believe you. You meant every word and wanted to show him.

He snorted and rolled his eyes at you. "I couldn't care about Josie; I never had any real feeling for her. She was something to take my mind off someone else. I wasn't good enough for too, so there's no point trying to make me feel better", he stated with a raised voice. By the time he said the first something his tone lowered and wavered.

You wanted to tell him you weren't lying. What you said was how you felt, how you wish you hadn't denied his kiss, and most importantly who the girl was. But none of that came out. The most your brain mustered was: "she's an idiot".

Sweetpea passed you. "Yes you are", he whispered to himself, not realising you'd heard it. You turned around so fast it could have given you whiplash.

"What did you say?", you asked.

Sweetpea froze. He didn't know what to say. He didn't think it could hurt anymore than being rejected, so he decided to tell you, and suffer now rather than let it drag on as it had.

"You! You rejected me. The one person I loved more than anyone. I could deal with being friends for so long, but no matter what, you would be on my mind. I knew you were too good for me, so I tried sleeping with other girls. I started a fling with Josie but none of them made me feel the way you do. I thought, well nothing else worked, so maybe just coming to tell you... but I couldn't see how, so I just kissed you. I was right, I you didn’t want me too.”

He didn't mean to say as much as he did, but once he started, it all just came out. He looked at you, when you didn't speak, seeing a smirk on your face, almost like you were holding in a laugh. "Oh, now you're gonna laugh at me. Reject then laugh"

You put a hand on his chest, shaking your head. "I'd never laugh at you and I'd never reject you because you're not good enough. I did it to protect my own feelings. I couldn't be a rebound. I love you too much for it to be a one-time thing", you say with a smile.

It took a second or two for your words to sink in. His eyes widened "did you just say...?" but never finished.

"I love you, yes" you say for him. "I always have, Pea, but never thought you liked me. Let's face it, I'm no Josie, nor the type you normally go for", you say, hearing how weird it came out.

He brought his face in close to yours, cupping your cheek in his hand. "No, you're better", he said before kissing you. When it ended, Sweetpea smiled. You looked up at him, seeing the joy. "If I do it again, you're not gonna say no this time", he joked.

You shook your head, leaning in for a second kiss, proving to him you would never reject or push him away again. This one was more passionate than the first. He held you close, one hand on your back, the other in your hair. You wrap yours around his neck, tugging on the hair your fingers reach.

When he felt the small pull, he deepened the kiss, his lips moved in sync faster and harder, but with a tenderness too. When he pulled away, you felt a little breathless. "Wanna get out of here?" you say, biting your lip to remember the feel of his.

"Thought you were working?" he asked; giving you a devilish smirk, knowing perfectly well neither of you were going back inside.

"Nar, we can feed Hogeye some line like I needed to calm down after that Blossom bitch. Hooking up with a sexy Serpent was just an added bonus", you giggle. You walked off towards his bike. He slipped his arm around your waist. He couldn't believe his dreams had come true. His only regret? That he'd not said anything sooner.