#sorry this is so badly written but i’m very tired right now and my grasp of english is suffering from it lol

[holyscreamingintothevoid]

I’m still having way too much fun with the Colab notebook, haha. I always set show_all_candidates to true; it’s like getting a bulk discount.

Anyways, when reading the additional results for each candidate, I always find it a bit frustrating that the ones most likely to get lots of notes (and therefore most likely to get selected) are usually those that consist of short Tumblr-style humor or just mention random identities, rather than the longer ones, which are usually much funnier because of the earnestness with which Frank will talk about complete nonsense.

I fed sold(ered) 2 her into the Colab notebook a couple of times, and the longer responses containing continuations and/or serious analysis of the gibberish I wrote almost always lost to the quippy one-liner reactions, no matter the mood score. After Tumblr!Frank responded with just an image at first, I was surprised when I managed to even get one long response out of her before she got off track and started talking about actual pets.

To be fair, the fact that Ramsay is involved obviously exacerbates this, since the short responses don’t leave space for Frank to get into all the Ramsay-related topics that would fail a content review, but the trend persists even with more neutral story/multi-paragraph prompts.

I think that outside of “#quotes”, a lot of Frank’s most entertaining posts are her reblogging fiction or reviews from “her dash” and initiating RP or responding like she’s an expert on a given topic.

Also any posts supporting my frankhorse agenda, of course, but that one is likely just me.

[ysljoon]

Personal Business|CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Assistant Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+ this is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, noncon sex, public sex, crying, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk (jungkook has a filthy mouth christ), creampie, assault?

Being the personal assistant to Jeon Jungkook definitely has been a rollercoaster of experiences, but after working with him for about 2 years now you’ve gotten used to his erratic behavior such as mood swings and unreasonable demands. Everyone in the workplace has admired how long you’ve stuck around, but the paycheck you receive every two weeks is too pretty to pass up. You saw the listing for the job on a job search website and the pay per hour almost had you pass out, but once you came into the office you realized you were getting paid so generously almost as a test to see if the money could keep you around and it sure has.

Today Jungkook was in an extra gruff mood for the day because he had plenty of meetings to go through and not enough time for proper breaks and that’s the least ideal day for him. He loves breaks as much as any other person, but just tenfold. Everyone in the office is allowed a 45 minute lunch break, but since Jungkook is the CEO he will disappear on 2 hour breaks and not a single person knows where he goes. Not even you and people don’t understand how since you’re practically his right hand. You pay no mind to his whereabouts since it doesn’t affect and busy yourself with whatever tasks Jungkook left for you to do. Today he left no tasks for you since he’s been cooped up in his office occupied with other business officials. You haven’t been able to meet with him to get a briefing for the day so now you’re talking with Taehyung at his cubicle while you share a small pizza he ordered for lunch.

“Taehyung, I’m telling you right now there is no way that Joon and the receptionist don’t have something going on! They’re always eyeing each other up and Namjoon is always requesting for her to come to his office. It’s highly suspect.” You explained your reasoning to Taehyung exasperated and took another bite of your crust.

“Listen Y/N, all I’m saying is that it’s way too obvious for it to actually have any worth. Anyways you know how Mr. Jeon feels about workplace romance; he absolutely abhors the thought and would probably fire people on the spot if he ever found out.”

You continued to have your disagreement with Taehyung for a little while more, but what you didn’t realize was that Jungkook was done with his meeting a while ago and was watching you on his laptop through the camera system and was frowning deeply watching you fraternize with your coworker. He was tired of watching you practically throw yourself at Taehyung when you were his and only his. Jungkook got up from his desk and strode to Taehyung’s cubicle to stop this foolishness immediately.

“Mr. Kim, is there a reason why you are holding up my assistant from her work and why the expense report I asked you to do isn’t done?” Jungkook had a look on his face that he wanted to wring Taehyung’s neck and he was very close to, but he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to have you in his possession before he got rid of anybody that even tried to look in your direction so for right now this was his version of playing it cool.

“I-I’m very sorry sir it won’t happen again and I’ll get right to it!” Taehyung quickly turned to his computer and fervently typed in his password to get to work immediately. Jungkook then turned to you and grabbed you by the arm to drag you to his office. You were shocked and stunned by this action because sure he had talked to you roughly, but had never put his hands on you. He swiftly pulled you into his office and slammed the door. He even fully shut his blinds. This started to have you scared. He had this look in his eyes that made your body start to tremble. “S-sir I’m sorry for not working! I just wasn’t able to get the daily briefing for today so I tried my best to get work done. I had a lot of free time so I thought to spend it with Taehyung. I’m sorry if that was wasting company time you can deduct it from my pay!” You were heavily breathing by the time you were done with your panicked spiel. Jungkook chuckled at your anxiety and strode towards you till you were backed up into the wall and at this point you thought he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“Darling, if you really want to make it up to me you can kiss me.” He purred in your ear and it sent sickening shivers up your spine. Your head started to spin when you felt him plant his lips on the column of your neck and work his way up to your jaw. You tried to shove him off, but naturally he was able to overpower you and he used his leg and chest to trap you between him and the wall.

“My dear Y/N, I hope you cooperate with me if you know what’s good for you.” He slyly grinned against your skin and started to passionately kiss you. To really show he was in charge he bit down on your bottom lip with force you have never felt before. It had you cry out in pain, but you were quickly silenced when you felt your boss reach under your skirt and start to trace circles against your cunt. He placed a hand against your mouth and gave you a threatening look you have never seen. It was so sinister it had you squirming away from his touch. You thought you could have gotten away but by the time you were able to slide past his body he was grabbing your wrist and slamming you down against his desk which sent things tumbling down to the floor.

“Jungkook, please stop, I'm so sorry!” You didn’t even realize you were bawling at this point, but he ignored your pleas and sobs and continued with his sinister acts. He grasped your wrists in one hand and with his other he slid your panties off and inserted a single long finger into your cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight and wet for me.” He kept pumping his finger into you until he felt like he could insert another one into you. Once the second finger was deep in your hole Jungkook started to pick up the pace and you couldn’t even cry out to what he was doing to you. You felt numb and helpless and wanted him to stop, but your efforts were useless.

“Kitten, I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you fucking feel. I want to see you get dumb on my fucking fingers and cock that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. I want you to beg to have your dirty cunt stretched out.” Hearing your boss talk to you like this makes you speechless, but you listen to him because you don’t know what other worse things he can do to you. You let your body succumb to what he’s doing and you let out small moans and whimpers and this makes him let out his own grunts and groans in response. Before you can assess what’s happening when you feel his fingers slip out of your soaked pussy, Jungkook is shoving his cock balls deep into you and you gasp for air feeling the heavy pressure between your legs. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts to pound into you. You cry out in both pain and pleasure from hearing skin slap against skin. You feel close to an orgasm and tears are rolling down your cheeks from desperation. “Sir please let me cum! I need to cum so bad! Please let me cum all over your cock.” You can’t even process the words you’re saying, you just want to have your release so badly. Jungkook slaps your ass and groans a ‘fuck yes baby’ and just seconds after that action you’re creaming on his thick cock. You feel your walls pulse around your boss and this brings him close to the edge and he’s losing control over himself. He starts to wild slam into your cunt and after a few more pumps he’s spilling his cum into you and you feel delirious from everything that had just happened. You hear him adjusting himself behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to even move at the moment. You hear his steps come close to you and you just lie there motionless while you wait for him to speak. “I can’t wait to bring you home with me princess.” After that sentence all you can recall is a blunt object coming in contact with your skull and nothing else.

Notes: thank you so much for reading I’ve been on a pretty solid hiatus and will crosspost what I have written on AO3 on to here too because I have some fics there that I haven’t posted on to Tumblr! If you enjoyed please like and reblog it really helps and you can also give me a Kofi.

[nights-legacy]

Not What You're Thinking-Todoroki

First time trying to hold their hand. Does it go right or wrong?

MHA Masterlist

+ Everyone knows how Todoroki is with emotions. He is aloof, unemotional, and unfortunately, cold. It was no surprise to anyone with you two haven’t ever shown any physical part of your relationship. What no one knew was it never happened when you two were on your own either. As a result, you start to think he doesn’t really have interest in you after all.

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

Things between Todoroki and I were moving slow and I mean really slow. A slow as a glacier, no pun intended. We were currently walking towards lunch and I was walking towards Todoroki like normal. I wanted to hold the boys hand very badly but I didn’t want to rush him.

“What are you going to get today, L/N?” Uraraka asked me. I smiled and thought about it.

“I don’t really know. I am not really hungry right now. My stomach is upset.” I said truthfully. She looked at me worried.

“Really? Do you need to go see Recovery Girl?” She asked. I shook my head.

“No. It’s nothing to bad. I’ll probably just get some rice so I have something in my stomach.”

“Are you sure?” She was really worried. I stopped her and the others went on.

“I promise. If I start to feel worse I’ll go to Recovery Girl immediately.” I assured her. She relaxed, believing me.

“Are you okay girls?” Midoriya called out. We looked at them. They were stopped a few yards ahead of us. We nodded and walked to catch up.

“Are you alright, L/N?” Todoroki asked. “I heard you say that you had an upset stomach.” I could see the tiniest bit of concern in his stoic expression.

“Yes. It’s only a little thing.” I said, smiling. He nodded before glancing down for a second before looking forward again. He went forward and I looked down to see what he glanced down at. I saw nothing. I shrugged, following.

I stayed true to my word with Uraraka and got rice. Iida and I were waiting at the table for the rest to come back from the line. Todoroki sat down next to me while Uraraka and Midoriya sat across for us. I smiled at them being cutesy together.

“Is that all your eating, L/N?” Todoroki asked. I nodded. He stared at me with an expression I couldn’t read for a little longer before he turned back to his food.

Mindless chatter of training, course work, and other things swirled around the table. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Todoroki move his hand onto the table. The thought of holding his hand ran through my head. I took a breath trying to build the courage before taking the chance.

I place my hand on top of his and lightly gripped onto it. I held my breath waiting for him to return, but he never did. I let out a silent, shuddering breath. I took a sly glance at his face and saw no difference then normal in his expression. I bit the inside of my lip as I slowly pulled my hand away and into my lap. I gripped my hands together tightly.

What was I thinking? He’s not really a touchy person in the first place. Why would he want to hold hands? I chided myself. My stomach felt even worse now. I pushed my bowl back away from me when I caught onto Midoriya nearly hanging off of Todoroki. Maybe he just doesn’t want to do that with me…

“I’ll be back.” I said getting up. All three of them looked at me.

“Where are you going?” Uraraka asked.

“Recovery Girl.” I said quietly and walked off. I heard Uraraka call after me if I wanted her to go with me but I didn’t answer. As I exited the cafeteria. I felt tears run down my face. I went in the complete opposite direction of Recovery Girl.

3rd POV

Todoroki watched as Y/N walked away. You couldn’t see it on his face but he was extremely chiding himself. He basically froze and was internally panicking when Y/N had placed there hand on his. He only started to panic more when they pulled away and grew tense.

“What was that?” Midoriya asked after a few minutes of silence. Everyone at the table but the one was wondering the same thing.

“Well, they weren’t feeling well. Their stomach was upset so maybe it got worse?” Uraraka said more in a question then a statement. “They told me they would go to Recovery Girl if their stomach got worse.”

“It would be wise if one of us went to check on them.” Iida suggested.

“I’ll go.” Todoroki said without missing a beat, rising to his feet. He pushed in his chair.

“Excellent. It would be better if it was you anyway due to your relationship with L/N.” Todoroki only answered by nodding and walked off. He walked to Recovery Girl’s office. He walked in and paused when the only person he saw was Recovery Girl.

“Oh, Mr. Tododroki. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Has Y/N been here?” Todoroki asked. She thought for a second.

“No, they haven’t.” Todoroki’s eyes widened. He thanked her and walked out.

I didn’t pass her did I? She said she was going to Recovery Girl but… He stopped and thought about it. She probably went to the courtyard of the dorms. He took off running, not caring that lunch was going to be over soon. He ran without breaking his stride or stopping. He ran into the Heights Allience and straight through to the court yard. He finally stopped when he saw their figure sitting on the ground.

“L/N?” He called out. They tensed and looked over their shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” They said in a meek voice. He sighed and looked around before walking over and sitting in front of them.

“No you’re not. And I know it’s my fault.” Todoroki said.

Y/N’s POV

“No you’re not. And I know it’s my fault.” My gaze shot to his face. I saw only slight emotion his face. He took a big breath before looking up at me. Guilt and remorse were written on his face. “I am not good at showing emotions. I only recently learned that it was okay to show them. My damn father and his…”

He stopped taking another breath, closing his eyes in annoyance. I set a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and gazed down at my hand. Slowly he reached up and grabbed my hand. He gripped it tight before bringing it up to lightly kiss it. My eyes widen.

“I’m sorry. I froze up when you tried to hold my hand. My mind went completely blank but I knew I wanted to hold yours too. He set his hand that was holding mine in his lap and laid his other on top of mine. “I don’t know what I made you think but whatever it was it wasn’t true. I promise.”

“Thank you.” I whispered. I set my other hand on top of ours.

“I wish I was as confident in our relationship as I am in my hero training.” He admitted. “I didn’t have the best role model for relationships.”

“I know.” I said. I reached up and held his cheek. “If you are unsure of anything or need to slow down or whatever, don’t be afraid to ask. I won’t be upset. I understand that this is all new to you. I was just…earlier, it went through my mind that you didn’t want to do this with me even when I know that this isn’t something you know.”

“I do want to do this. Especially with you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you out on that first date.” He leant closer to look at me in the eyes. “I am ashamed of myself for making you feel this way.”

“Don’t be. I understand why you reacted that way. I just wish I remembered that in the moment.” I gripped onto his hand. I looked up and sighed. “We better get back to class. We’re probably going to get in trouble for being late.” He nodded. He pulled back and got up smoothly. He reached out for me. I grasped onto his hands and he pulled me up easily. I yelped a bit when I fell into his chest.

“Are you alright?” He asked, with a slightly blush on his cheeks. I nodded.

“Yes, I just forget how strong you are sometimes.” I admitted shyly. He chuckled, which I found out was my most favorite sound in the world.

“Come on. Time to go.” He said, pulling gently on one of my hands. I nodded and followed. After a few minutes of walking and getting back into the school building, he seemed to remember something. “Oh, how is your stomach?”

“Oh…” I was surprised, not only at the question but at the fact that the discomfort from earlier was gone. “Much better. I even realize the discomfort went away.”

“That’s good.” He said. “I hate seeing you unwell. How about after school, we got out to get something to eat? Anything you like, it’s on me.” He led me up the stairs and the classroom came into view.

“Alright. Sounds good to me.” I said. He brought my hand up to his lips again, kissing my knuckled ever so slightly and I noticed, a bit unsure. He looked at me, checking to see if it was okay. I gave him a smile and we got lost in each other’s eyes.

“Come on you two.” We jumped at the sound of Aizawa’s voice. We both looked to see the tired man in the doorway to the class. I blushed as Todoroki flushed a little. “You’re late but Uraraka, Iida, and problem child explained what happened. I guess you’re off the hook this time but don’t make a habit of it.”

“Yes sir.” We chorused as he disappeared in the room. I looked over at him with an amused smile. I covered my mouth and tried not to laugh. He smiled too before shaking his head and pulling me into the classroom.

Tags: @spicy-therapist-mom @dxnaii-rxse

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON THE END OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY.

Dishonour! Dishonour on you, dishonour on your cow! 

Well Jason Nation, it happened again, fanon wins over canon. The amount of bullshit that DC made Zdarsky write in this issue is insane, I have never seen this many fanfiction tropes shoved in a single issue in my life.

This book has been a constant insult to Jason’s character and his Red Hood “persona” since the very first issue but I never thought it would end this badly. It’s incredibly sad.

I will go ahead and say it, this tumblr and this post is not “Batfamily” friendly and it definitely isn’t fanon friendly when it comes to Jason Todd.

Fanon is destroying canon for Jason Todd. I am sorry but that’s how I see it, fanon doesn’t belong in canon, I would never get tired of saying that. But here is the thing, DC latches on to Jason’s fanon version because it fits their narrative of “the Batman is all that is right and all must follow his rules or they shall disappear”.

DC has been dying to make Jason bland and flavourless just like Batman. And now here it finally is.

Let’s be honest the story in this book, the new drug, Cheer, Tyler and his mom, none of that shaped this story, none of those things were the support beams for it. It was all about this never ending “daddy issues” thing that DC pretends is going on between Jason and Bruce.

It was all about those two fighting because they “think differently” so in the end they can push Jason towards the “no killing rule” being also the Red Hood’s modus operandi.

Its utter bullshit.

From the moment that Jason had to put a bat suit on I knew that this was going to be a mess. Luckily like I predicted they didn’t make a big deal out of him wearing it but the “Jason admires Batman” feeling was very present in the issue.

I will not talk about how easy it was for that one thug to land a punch on Jason while he was distracted and I will also not talk about Jason being a dumbass for not securing his dumb mask better when he knew the fight will involve gases. I will not talk about it.

Anyway, let’s talk about the Cheer Gas induced illusion, shall we?

In Jason’s illusion he finds Bruce at the manor looking at the picture of Joker’s death (?) and even though that is strange what Bruce says next is even weirder, he says this: “I did it. He was the last one, but I did it…Joker is dead. I am done.”

Now what the hell was that? This is Jason’s illusion, and by the looks of it in his illusion Bruce has killed every baddie in Gotham and left the Joker for last? Am I reading that right? Is this this a joke?

I understand that this is an illusion so the gas is making “real” things that Jason probably doesn’t know he wants, like wanting Bruce to go on a killing spree, which Jason never wanted because he said it himself, do you guys remember the iconic “I’m not talking about killing Cobblepot and Scarecrow or Clayface. Not Riddler or Dent…I’m talking about HIM. Just him.” Because I remember and it’s so important to Jason’s character, Jason never wanted Bruce to go on a killing spree, he wanted Bruce to kill the clown who had killed him when he was only fifteen. Is that so hard to remember DC?

And then it gets worse! Since WHEN has Jason wanted a perfect family life with the people that he has tried to kill, harm or looked down to? Why is “being with a bunch of people who NEVER get together for anything other than “help” the Bat in a fight against a fucking clown” the idea of happiness to Jason? Has this man ever interacted with any of these people in a positive way without the intrusion of a Batman/Robin event in the way? I will give you the answer, it’s no, the answer is no.

Jason Todd doesn’t care for your “Batfamily” bullshit DC, why would it matter to him? Because he was Robin? He was killed by the Joker when he was Robin, and he was killed because the man in charge of him didn’t pay enough attention! Jason Todd who was written as Dick Grayson’s number one hater for so long (and fandom loves that) is now having an illusion where he enjoys happy times with him along the others? Cass and Stephanie? What? Am I missing something, is this actually AO3, is this fanfiction?

I think Zdarsky got confused, this illusion is what would happen if Jason were dosed with fear gas. That must be it, I solved it everyone! Zdarsky just got confused by his own writing!

I wish.

Let’s go back to the sad reality, Jason has a moment in which he actually puts all his training in motion and shakes of the gas’s grasp on him. He does that but he is grabbed by so many people (who are this people?) and he is unarmed and I believe that’s the only reason why Cheer is still alive after saying that he has someone in Tyler’s mom’s hospital room ready to kill her if he doesn’t join him.

(If this were the real Jason, Cheer would have dropped dead instantly.)

But this is not the real Jason and this is not a *real* comic, it’s fanfiction! So just like that time in Batman #100 when Dick was fighting alone as Nightwing (for the first time since his “family” left him alone after losing his memories) the rest of the “family” shows up to fight Cheer and four random thugs.

Yep, its like the MCU had considered having Cap say “Avengers Assemble” when they were fighting a couple of robots instead of Thanos.

What a mess.

Also having Jason say, in real life (not illusion world), “You know what happiness is? It’s knowing that others have your back.” about this group of people is the perfect recipe for a big OOC moment for absolutely everyone. I cannot believe they have dragged Jason back to this awful concept and that they have sank him so low. It’s quite honestly, disgusting.

But the horrors don’t end there, we have a wonderful moment after Jason gives Batman the antidote, Jason stops Batman from punching the living shit out of Cheer. Because I am not stupid. There is no way in the world that you can convince me that Jason just stopped Batman from killing Cheer.

How incredibly delusional do you have to be to write Batman finally killing someone and that someone being Cheer, a guy that was introduced to comics two months ago?

Yes, later its said that between the gas and the antidote Bruce was a little too crazy and couldn’t help himself BUT I call bullshit once more, because Bruce has gone completely bat-shit-crazy on people before! I remember two recent instances in which that happened. Batman #57 in which Bruce beats the living shit out of KGBeast after he shot Dick. And the other one is Batman beating up Jason more brutally than he ever beat up Joker in RHatO #25.

DC cannot fuck with me. I might has bought this digital comic for 8 dollars but I am not buying that bullshit.

ALSO, there was no need for Zdarsky to do Jason as dirty as he did him when he made him say: “If you are going to come down from mount judgement to MY level for once… he’s not the guy to do it for.”

Zdarsky, why did you write a Red Hood story when you hate Red Hood? Couldn’t you have just told DC that you wanted to write a love letter to Batman? Once again, I am reading a Red Hood story for RED HOOD content not Batman content. Is it really that hard? I bet that if Zdarsky had asked DC to let him write a Batman story they would have said yes, there are like 20 Batman stories, they wouldn’t say no to one more!

Can you tell I am mad? And salty?

This post is so long and so full of anger, I am truly sorry for that but I have to write these feelings down or I would explode. And I am not even done, our suffering, Jason Nation, continues.

But first a little break from the pain, Tyler. Thank you after all the pain this book has given me Tyler is back and just like I predicted his mom is fine and he will stay with her, they both have been given a place and money to rebuild their life (not given by Jason nor Dick but I was close enough). The only happy ending that Tyler could have, he had and I am thankful for that, we even got a little adorable moment between the Red Hood and the Blue Hood.

I am weak for these little glimpses of a good Jason take in the middle of an incredibly awful/OOC story. And just to live in my own fantasy world I will headcanon that Jason promised himself to keep an eye out for Tyler and his mom. He would have wanted to know about their life and that they are still out of trouble.

Jason is a good man, don’t you forget that DC, I don’t care how much you twist it. Jason killing Tyler’s dad wasn’t a horrible act, it was fair game. That man was a horrible person, he drugged his child and made his wife (?) almost overdose. You never gave context as to why that man was working as a drug dealer but you told us those things so Jason should never feel like he did something wrong. As far as we know, Tyler and his mom are better off without him.

Having said that, lets go back to the pain of what is reading a Red Hood story.

“I’m giving up the guns.”

You know what, fine, as long as DC doesn’t pull another “I will stop being Red Hood for you Barbara” I will be fine. He can kill people with other things, he used to have the all-blades, he had normal swords and he had crowbars.

I will sacrifice Jason looking hot as hell when he pulls out his guns just to keep him as the Red Hood, all DC has to do is not give him that stupid… bat… symbol… oh no…. oh my god I can feel it… that thing, that horrible thing is making a comeback! NO!

Jason and Bruce’s talk is basic and it doesn’t do anything for anyone, in the end saying that Jason isn’t changing his ways for Bruce but that he is doing it for himself is more of the same. We know he is doing it for Bruce and we know DC is doing it because they cannot handle good, complex and interesting characters. We know that and sadly we have to live with it.

About Bruce’s illusion, well, Bruce has said that he wanted to kill the clown for a very long time and in the King run it was basically said that if Bruce were to be happy then the idea of Batman would die.

Listen, between me and you, sometimes I think that the Joker isn’t that big of a problem for Gotham as a whole, that clown has beef with the Bat and no one else. If Bruce has killed the Joker Jason would have been happy with Bruce all those years ago but killing the Joker wouldn’t make Gotham a safe place and any of his kids happier.

Bruce needs to care for his children, but he won’t do that, he has Dick for that. Taking care and raising Damian? No, thank you, I will not do that. Giving a shit about my son who lost all his memories and is alone? No thank you, I won’t do that and then I will lie about having watched him over. Tim? Oh, never heard of him, sorry.

The last page of this story is the one of Jason arriving home and finding a new suit that Bruce gave him with the bat symbol on it. That symbol that he had ripped off of Jason’s beat up body back in RHatO #25 (nope, I am not letting that one go).

Oh, and Bruce leaving that suit in Jason’s home gives me the same exact vibes as the time that Bruce was like “Long overdue. This is where you belong. As one of us. One of the family” in Nightwing #74 a second after Dick had regained his memories.

I don’t know why but they make him sound incredibly cold and like these people are just his pawns that he needs to rope back in every time they get away from him. It’s very disturbing.

Anyway, that’s all from me, I obviously LOVED this book, best Jason Todd/Red Hood characterisation ever! 11/10 would recommend to everyone including my enemies!

🙃

[oikadori]

A/N: No one asked for this but I really wanted to write some angsty fic...so this is the outcome of listening to Callum Scott and Conan Gray for three full days asfkasjk sorry this is the longest thing I’ve written Hope you like it!

Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Summary: He was your best friend and she was perfect, but still you fell for him

Genre: angst, unrequited love 

Warnings: self-doubt, insecurity, swearings 

Now playing: Dancing On My Own, Heather 

WC~2,6K

You should already be used to hear it, but every time Atsumu let out a booming laugh you couldn’t help staring at him with dreamy eyes.

“Oi, Y/N!  Are you even listening to me?” his hazel eyes open, looking at you playfully.

“Yes, I’m hearing you, and no, it wasn’t as funny as you think” he frowns, pushing you from your chair almost making you fall if it wasn’t for his quick grip on your forearm, “You asshole!”

“Why so harsh on me today, sweetheart?”

Yo feel your stomach twist at the nickname, making Atsumu smile at the way your cheeks get a dark red.

“Because you were a total dick with those poor girls” he sighs, tired, stretching his arms behind his head, “You could’ve been nicer, you know?”

Biting your lip, you remember the teary eyes of those girls as they ran away sobbing after they had told him their love confession. Would you have the same luck if- No, no way you had a crush on him.

“They have a crush just on my looks, it’s annoying”, he spits, “Why do you care so much anyways?”

“I…-” he looks at you with curiosity as you carefully think your words, “-I guess I would feel horrible if I were them and confessed”

“Don’t tell me you have a crush on someone Y/N”

“Of course not, all of you ,men, are idiots”, he place his hand on his chest with a wounded look, making your eyes roll, a smile tickling your lips, “Now, hurry with your homework, you’re stealing my lunch time”

He reaches for his bag, taking out his lunch box to hand you the extra Onigiri he had. You smile fondly even if it is not the first time he brings you food during your study sessions.

He was your best friend, yet his gestures never failed to dazzle you.... Maybe you do have a crush on him.

 ///

You enter the gym with a tired look, a yawn slips pass your lips before sitting on the bleachers, you plug your earbuds and take out an unfinished assignment from your bag. The second years wave at you, Atsumu sticking his tongue out, you wave back before locking eyes with him and returning the gesture, making the setter grin.

The next time you lift your eyes from your work, you open them wide before taking off your earbuds to listen to the scene in front of you.

A girl wearing the team’s jacket enter the gym alongside the captain, making it feel as if the time stop. The team look at them in surprise as she bows.

“I’m eager to be your new manager! I used to play but-” she points at her wrist with a shy smile,” I got pretty bad injured so I hope I can be helpful here”, you advert Atsumu’s gaze, making your heart flinch a little.

“I’m Miya Atsumu, setter, I haven’t see ya around before” the girl looks at him with an eager look, leaning closer, a happy smile on her face as Atsumu stands still, the smirk on his face fades as she erases the gap between them. ‘The hell is she doing?’

“Oh, I know you! The star setter, guess what they say about you is truth-”, you wait for the usual compliments girls told him all the time, your lips curve up a little remembering Atsumu’s usual reaction at them, “-your serves are truly monstrous, your technique is impeccable”

His eyes glimmer with curiosity and you notice the light blush on his cheeks as he gives her his best smile. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve seen him flirting with girls, hooking up with one before getting another, but this…this was different.

You stand up before properly thinking what you are doing. You haven’t felt jealous before and you didn’t have the right for it, but an overwhelming despair sets the pace of your feet as they move towards them.

“I used to be a setter myself but-“

“Hey, Tsumu, see you after practice to finish our chemistry homework?” you peek your head between them, making the girl take a few steps back, a surprise look on her face. Atsumu looks at your innocent smile and blinks.

“Y/N, I told you not to call me that in practice-” he whispers to you, hiding it with a few coughs, “Uhmm, sure” the couch calls them and he waves at you before jogging off with the new manager to line up with the rest.

Your eyes linger on them a few more seconds, he laughs with her, making you furrow your eyebrows together, noticing just now, how beautiful she was.

///

“You still look like crap”

“Shut up, Samu!

You stand between the twins near the main door of the cafeteria, watching Atsumu run his hand through his hair multiple times as he stares at his reflection on one of the windows ‘All that… for her?’

A voice that comes from behind you, makes Atsumu look over your shoulder with a nervousness you haven’t seen before.

“Tsum Tsum!”

He gasps at the sight of her, the short dress she is wearing frames her figure perfectly, and you can’t help to look at your own clothes wondering if you couldn’t have dressed more casually.

You remain silent as she reaches for his hair and ruffles it friendly, the display in front of you feels surreal, suddenly your limbs are numb and your eyes can’t seem to drift away from Atsumu’s happy smile as he grabs her wrist to kiss her hand.

“You look stunning”

“What a gentleman – Oh, hey ‘Samu and-“

“Y/N” the words come sharper than you intended, the girl just let out an innocent giggle

“I’m so sorry! I don’t get to see you a lot in school, you’re in the advanced classes, right?”

“Y/N is a genius, they wouldn’t allow me to play if it wasn’t for her”, Atsumu says pointing at you with pride while his other hand rests on the small of her back guiding her to your table. A lump forms on your throat, making it impossible for you to reply, you  manage to pull an empty smile.

On the table you are silent as ever, nodding at all the conversations the second years try to include you in. Your mind is already far away, wondering all the possibilities that could happen if you were brave enough to confess right there, right now, but the sight in front of you snaps you to reality again.

Atsumu lips gets stained by some red sauce and before you can point it out, she licks her thumb before pressing it on his lips. His cheeks turn bright red and his jaw slightly slacks open.

“How is that you aren’t already dating? It’s been almost three months since you are all over each other” Suna casually says

Three months indeed, and she entered more and more in their small circle. But how could you stop it when she was just…so lovely?

 Atsumu stayed until much later in practice but still you chatted together. Late night texts, becoming in late night calls to check up on each other.

‘I want to ask her out. Fuck, I want her so badly, but what if she rejects me, Y/N!’

‘Tsumu, you’re Japan’s top high school setter. Believe me, she won’t reject you’

Now you want to hit your head against the nearest wall, remembering your stupid words.

“Would you say yes if I ask you out?” 

“I would say yes to more than that” the table falls dead silent at her words as if they waited for the next scene of a movie.

 Suddenly Atsumu press his lips against hers with ferocity, she pulls the collar of his shirt, deepening the already heated kiss. You almost choke on your water, earning a concern look from Kita, you find yourself standing up violently before rushing to the restroom.

You close the door behind you before looking at yourself in the mirror, ‘I could have never competed with her’. You bite your lip, and shut your eyes tightly, your hands grasping both sides of the sink, you let your head fall forwards, eyes fixed on the white of the porcelain as they water.

“Y/N, are you okay?” you stiffen at the soft female voice coming from the other side of the door, “Do you need help?”, you let out an humorless laugh. ‘A sweetheart with everyone, huh?’

“I-I don’t feel good, it’ll better if I head home. Please tell the others, I had an emergency or something” your throat feels extremely dry all of sudden and your voice comes out shaky.

“Oh! I can take you home-“

“I’ll rather go alone! I don’t know if I’m sick and I’d hate to…infect you. Thank you, tho”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”

“Okay…text me when you get home!”

When you hear the footsteps fading away, you wait a few more minutes to walk out the restroom, just to find Atsumu talking cheerfully, his eyes filled with adoration for her. He didn’t even look at your direction as you left the cafeteria, and in that very moment you realized he would never look at you that way.

 ///

“Where is Y/N, I haven’t seen her in years?”

“I think she is tutoring some first years”

“Oh” Atsumu finds himself looking at your usual spot on the bleachers, he barely got to see or talk to you in the recent weeks. 

You’ve been missing his calls on purpose. Since that dinner, you had to put all your energy to smile at him when he waved at you in the corridors as he held her hand. It had been almost a month of hearing him talking about how gracious she was and weeks of looking how they made out on the couch in the end of the library or against one of the gym’s walls.

You thought that if you put distance with him, you’ll manage to get over that soreness that felt heavy on your chest each time she made him laugh. But no matter how many extra classes you took or how many first years you tutored, your mind always came back to Inarizaki’s setter.

The sky was dark by the time you finished tutoring the last first year, he bowed at you and you gave him a brief smile before locking the classroom. You handled the keys to your teacher and walked out of the building.

The cold wind hit your face, making you shiver, you search for your jacket in your bag, finding only a scarf. Atsumu gave it to you. You haven’t used it in a while now, but the cold was too much to bear with for your thin uniform. You place the material carefully around your neck, caressing the fabric begore sighing, watching your breath fading into the air and start walking.

“Oi” his voice makes you turn instantly, and you catch him jogging to you, “It’s fucking cold out here!- Uh, you still have it?” he points at your neck with a cheeky grin.

Atsumu looks extremely handsome like this, a little pink on his nose and cheeks and the few lights highlight the hazel of his eyes. It makes you gulp before replying.

“Of course, I do. It was my first two-digit birthday!”, he laughs remembering the chaos you both made by that age, you smile a little before looking at him with concern, “What are you still doing here? Something happened?”

“No! I-I just wanted to walk home with you, like we used to” he looks at the ground and sighs, “I know you’re busy, but I missed ya” the words make your heart warm even when you can’t stop shivering, “You are freezing” he takes his volleyball jacket and place it over your shoulders

“No, I’m fine, really. You should-”

“Stubborn as always. What am I supposed to do with your freeze corpse?”, you huff, putting the jacket on as he starts walking.

“What about your girlfriend?”

“She already left, don’t worry she knows you’re my best friend, she won’t act bitchy at you” you just nod and start walking alongside the setter, not caring about the sting that ypu just felt in your heart.

The walk is long and awkward, Atsumu finally getting hit by the way your friendship had changed. Your brief answers and forced smiles make him more and more annoyed, becoming more silent with each minute.

You didn’t have the energy to keep up with his drollery, each time you looked at him you just felt the urge to be held by him and tell him the painful truth: You didn’t have a crush on him. No.  You loved him.

“What is wrong with you?” he says, suddenly stopping.

“Excuse me- “

“If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, just say it! Jesus!”, his exasperated tone makes your eyes narrow, “-But don’t have me fooling around, worrying about you for almost a month” your mouth twitches downwards as you realize your indifference had hit a spot on his pride. 

For a solid minute you don’t hear anything, you just stare at him with a flood of thoughts rushing through your head until you manage to pull one of them out into a dry whisper.

“We shouldn’t be friends anymore- “his clenched fists loosen, and he watches your lips carefully, “I can’t do it anymore – thought I could but…is too much”,

The crack of your voice makes you stop for second, giving you time to gain a little bit more of air before feeling again as if you were drowning.

“I can’t be friends with you anymore, because I want you!… The worst part is that she is so FUCKING perfect!” your arms move in the air letting out all the feelings you had bottled up.

“I thought I could brush away the feeling, but I realize – I  love you, Atsumu” his mouth opens slightly not able to produce a sound as your arms fall to your sides, a tear streaming down your cheek.

You take his jacket off, the cold air embracing your body, but you can’t care less. He motions to you, but you lift your hand, stopping him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would it have changed anything?” his silence tells you all you needed, making your heart clench, “That – That’s what I though…It’s okay, really. I wouldn’t choose me either” your breath becomes irregular and you bite your lip, capturing a sob, “This is my fault, falling in love with you…If being friends makes you happy, I-I will do my best to be your friend, then”

Atsumu was usually selfish with the things he wanted and proud about the things he made but seeing you there, shivering with red eyes and swollen lips, made his heart ache.

And he couldn’t be less proud about the things he was about to say.

“You were right before. We shouldn’t be friends anymore. I do not want to deal with you being in love with me and my girlfriend”, you hiccup, fixing your sore eyes on his, “You made things so fucking complicated, it’s better to end this now”, he hiss, gritting his teeth, waiting for you to storm out.

 But when he feels your cold lips on his cheek, he bites his bottom lip harshly.

“Sorry, I never meant-”, ‘To fall for you’, it takes all his will power to not envelope you in his arms, so he only turns his face away, hearing your sobs. He loved you but not the way you did. “-to mess us up”

You walk away quickly, tears running down your cheeks as you press your hand firmly against your lips, drowning the uncontrollable sobs. Atsumu stands there watching you disappear into the coldness of the night, shutting his eyes tightly, understanding, he had lost his best friend.

❀ Please reblog if you like it! ❀

Thanks for reading ♡♡♡

↳ ∴ Master List ∴

[laufulneutral]

We all know how much I love music Inspos! So here’s one that came to mind whilst I’ve been obsessing over this Coldplay song recently.

I’m sorry if this is crap. Only briefly re read so have fun or not cool thanks bye haha

(It’s a sad Arthur moment)

You are Arthur’s fiancée. Arthur turns up out of the blue after disappearing for 3 months after shish went down in Valentine and the gang had to leave. He never told you and he hasn’t been responding to letters. This isn’t the first time he’s had to go, he disappears a lot to do jobs for Dutch, but you always knew. However things have been strained since the trouble in Blackwater and Arthur goes for longer periods between seeing you, and he doesn’t have the time to see you and it’s all coming to a crashing reality, that unless you keep running with the gang, you can have no future together

A sharp knock on the door takes your attention away from the book you had become so engrossed in. You look up as your Aunt leaves the room to answer the door.

Soon enough you hear the familiar drawl of the outlaw,

“Hello m’aam, is Miss Y/LN here?”

A brief sense of happiness and relief floods your system before it’s taken over by anger again. Anger that he left, anger he hasn’t written once to you or even responded to any of the letters you wrote to him.

“I shall go see”

You hear the door close, and your aunt appears in the entrance to the room

“Mr Morgan is here to see you” she smiles gently, worry etched into her face. You return the smile, and nod once before putting your book aside and standing to straighten your skirt.

“I can tell him your busy” you aunt offers,

“No it’s okay” you reply, twiddling the silver band with a single ruby raised from it on your finger. “He is meant to be my fiancée, I cannot ignore him”

Pulling open the door you are greeted by the familiar cowboy,

“Arthur” you greet him

“F/N” he smiles broadly, taking your hand and raising it to his rough lips placing a gentle kiss against your knuckles. The touch sends electric through your body, some things never change no matter how long it has been. “Y’look lovely darlin’”

You close the door behind you and attempt to offer him a smile. You can’t bring yourself to say anything amongst the anger and hurt that’s bubbling more now you are seeing him in person.

“I’ve missed ya” he says, awkwardly knocking his foot against the wood of the porch. The tension between you is thick, “ain’t stopped thinkin about ya since I’ve been away.. some strange people down south”

“Why are you here Arthur?” You snap, unable to continue anymore small talk. His face blanches and his eyes show a quick glimpse of shock and hurt

“I missed ya, and I wanted to say sorry” he answers plainly

“For what?”

“What?” He grunts

“For what Arthur. What are you sorry for?” you demand, impatient with him already.

“Erm…”

You let out a harsh laugh, walking away from him to the low fencing of the porch. You wrap your arms around yourself pleading it will keep you together,

“I would have been back sooner but we ran in to trouble”

You shake your head “ain’t that always the way”

“Ain’t nothing I could of done.. Dutch said..”

You spin round to face him, your patience snapping “well if Dutch said it then it must be gods word”

“Y/N.”

“Don’t” you hiss “I am your fiancée … least I thought I was till you disappeared and I had no idea where you were for 3 months”

“I’m sorry.. Pinkertons showed up and after what happened in Valentine I couldn’t come back and see ya in case someone recognised me”

“How about letters Mr Tacitus Kilgore? Did pinkertons take over the postal system too!” You sneer,

“No” Arthur mumbles, his eyes stuck firmly on the floor. He is so inherently frustrating, he never understands how him disappearing effects you,

“You cannot begin to fathom the thoughts I’ve had about you since you left! I thought you was dead!” You exclaim, your hands swing around widely

“Oh darlin..” Arthur hums, his eyes meeting yours with concern, “course not, I ain’t trying to make you worry”

“What was I meant to think ? I rode out to horseshoe and found it abandoned.. I thought cause I hadn’t heard from anyone that you must be ..” you take a deep breath to stop your voice from cracking and shake your head “That was till I saw Trewlany, he told me you were holed up somewhere near Rhodes. I didn’t believe him at first.. said you would have let me know if you had to go”

Arthur says nothing watching you with a blank expression

“Arthur I have wrote to you. I have wrote and wrote and worried and cried…” you stop yourself, turning away from him again to not have to see his face,

“What can I do to fix it?” Arthur asks you, his voice desperate

You shrug, before mumbling “I just wish it could be like it used to be, y’know back in Blackwater”

Silence stretches out between the pair of you, only broken when Arthur sighs heavily,

“I ain’t too sure what to say darlin.. I’m sorry and I’m here now… ain’t that enough?”

“We’ve done this before Arthur, you do something wrong, I get hurt and then you apologise. We are running in circles, and I keep getting hurt. I’m tired of it”

Arthur comes up behind you and wraps his two warm arms around you. The scent of pine and campfire invades your senses, the smell of him bringing comfort to you the same as it always has done.

“You darlin, are the most important thing to me” he says gruffly, his lips kissing you lightly on the side of your face, the electric tingle igniting your skin, “please forgive me”

“I always do” you answer, your voice exasperated “but that ain’t changing anything, you do it again and again .. disappear for weeks .. this time 3 months. What will it be next time Arthur? 6 months ? A year?”

Arthur’s arms stiffen around you,

“This is my life Y/N, you knew that when you met me and you knew that when you agreed to marry me” he says, his voice irritated “Nobody said it would be easy”

You laugh, shocking yourself, before shaking your head “you’re right ! Nobody said it was going to be easy. Being in love with an outlaw” you take a deep breath before admitting the truth “but no one ever said it would be this goddamn hard”

Your voice cracks, and your eyes begin to threaten unshed tears that have built up over the last few weeks. Arthur turns you in his arms so your face to face, you look up into his sea blue eyes,

“What are ya sayin” he asks warily,

You search his face for something to change your mind on the hard decision you’ve been thinking over for the last month. You find it hard to face the reality when you are in his presence, he is so intoxicating and just seeing the man you love brings you such comfort. Yes he looked different. His beard has grown out a lot since you last saw him, his scar no longer visible under the untamed hair, and he still wore that silly blue, very worn shirt that suited him so well, but he was still that same man who you fell in love with. The same man who drew pictures of you and taught you to ride a horse. The man who when he proposed dropped the ring cause he was so nervous. The man you thought would be your husband

“Say something’” Arthur whispers, his eyes watch you intently,

“I can’t do this anymore” you say barely above a whisper . His eyes go wide and a hand immediately holds your chin so you can’t turn away. His eyes frantically search your face,

“You’re leaving me?” He says with disbelief.

You close your eyes, as tears start to form. When you open them again, you look down at your ring finger. Sliding the gold band off, you hold it out to him. Disgust fills his face at this gesture, his grip on your chin loosens as he steps away from you.

“Y/N… no... I love you” he says, his voice cracking. His face is holds a frown, as he looks at you with hurt and disbelief,

“I love you too Arthur.. but it’s not enough, this is too…hard” your voice cracks and the tears fall down your cheek. You look away from him, but Arthur grips his hands on your arms, making you look up at him through watery eyes,

“It won’t be much longer darlin’…I know it don’t seem great now, but as soon as we have enough money we’ll be gone.. just the two of us” he reassures you with so much belief that you so badly want it to be true. However you know the horrible truth, that there was never going to be that time.. there is always one more job, one more favour to do.

You shake your head, “I think you know as much as me that ain’t the case… you’ll never change that part of you, I wouldn’t want you too. It’s what makes you who you are” you place your hand with the ring in over his heart, “but I am not the women who can live that life with you, I’m sorry”

You slip the ring into the breast pocket of his worn shirt. The same shirt he wore when you first met, it hugs his frame so well and was the first thing you noticed when you met him in Blackwater. The grin he gave you after he brought you a new drink to replace the one his friend Sean spilt when he was trying to dance on the saloon bar. Arthur was so carefree back then, but since the trouble in Blackwater it’s got worse. You respected his lifestyle but couldn’t be a part of it yourself, and had enough of moving all the time. Staying in Coulter was the breaking point, and you both agreed you would stay permanently in Valentine, since it was not meant to be long till you and Arthur left together.

Stepping back out of his grasp, his faces drops and he reaches out again taking your hand which his larger one.

“I love you…so much” Arthur mumbles confused, a broken look on his face that is no longer hidden by his facade of confidence

You smile weakly at him, tears running down your cheeks “I know”

Your voice cracking through the sobs as you pull your hand from his and turn for the door

“Goodbye Arthur”

You step through the door, closing it behind you before he does anything stupid, like kiss you. You knew that was all it would take to get you to stay, you love him too much. Leaning your back against the door you slide down, the sobs overtaking your body.

After a few seconds you hear Arthur’s foot steps recede , and then hooves disappearing until the house becomes silent.

[daddy-chiluc]

No Future (unedited)

Tw: Breakup, depression

Vent fic

——

What was he to expect? He knew from the start it’d fall apart. Crumble and wilt away, not giving them nearly enough time to bask in each other’s love and warmth. No...there would never be enough time. It was all just faded memories, moments once filled with an untamed happiness turning sour in his mouth, his throat soar as the screams he wanted to let out where trapped. He was trapped. Trapped in his own mind as a pile of regret sat along his once confident shoulders. His burning eyes becoming dark, desperate to hide whatever painful memory had come to mind.

They were fresh. New. The moment he found out he was a Harbinger though it was too late. He was already so deeply in love it filled his lungs, drowning him, grasping at his heart strings and violently pulling him down deeper and deeper. He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t have asked him to be his partner that night. Maybe they were just high off of Valentines day. High off of the floating, elated feeling of finally being loved by someone. Trusted by someone. Just reminiscing was enough to make his eyes burn. He didn’t want to remember. He never wanted to remember...but it felt like he didn’t have a choice.

They flooded him, swallowing him whole as he gasped for whatever remaining air was left. He felt weak. He should have done more. Why didn’t he do more? Childe could be suffering even more now. Suffering without his aid. This idea alone was enough to cause many sleepless nights filled with anxiety. The suffocating feeling of loneliness returning to its perch overhead. They never had enough time.

His memories were vivid. Vivid and gut wrenching. It made his fingers twitch and his work take up his desk space. He couldn’t distract himself anymore...at least not for awhile. No matter what he did or where he went, there’s was always that faint memory of him haunting him. Even on his darkest evenings, he’d go to his closet and grab the maroon shirt that hung idly behind. Burying his nose into the soft fabric his ex lover left behind, tears staining the dark fabric as his scent overwhelmed him, a broken sob breaking his throat.

He should have done more.

A sad smile caressed his features as his grip tightened on the forgotten shirt. He laughed coldly as he remembered his first kiss. Hidden in the restroom of the tavern as Childe looked at him so fondly. A look of pure adoration and love — the look he gave him burned into his memory as he remembered the Harbinger gently rubbing his thumb along his cheek while he held him so closely, the silent fear of letting him go dancing quietly behind his façade. A fear Diluc didn’t notice. A fear Diluc chose not to notice...because he himself feared the same thing.

He remembered the soft kisses they had, they were long and amateur, his heart fluttering like a teenager. He shouldn’t have been so elated. He should have ended it while it was still fresh...but this thought hadn’t come to mind at the time, far too enamored in Tartaglia’s love. His love blinded him.

His body tremors as recalled their first, and last date. The way they held hands. That’s when he got the maroon shirt. It was a birthday gift. That and many other items. But that was something he held onto dearly. Far too scared to let it go, terrified that he’d forget him. Forget what they had. Perhaps a part of him didn’t want to let it go. He wasn’t ready too.

He tried to recall their moments together. He remembered the day he was horribly sick. He wore his shirt all day, a heavy, nauseating feeling settling in his throat. He returned to the winery, Adeline aiding him as his workers took care of his work for the day. Childe had written him letters that day while he was out at Liyue, too far from Diluc’s reach. He had sent over music for Diluc to listen too, aiding him in finding sleep before he woke up heaving over a toilet.

After that it felt like things started to go downhill. Diluc sending and receiving letters everyday. Good mornings, afternoons and nights. He was so deeply in love with the harbinger that it became reckless. He listened to his stories. Storied of home and pets...stories of himself. How he had dated another male before the Fatui found out. That should have ended it right there...but he was so determined to make them understand.

Six months. Six months was all he needed. An absurd amount of time that was never achieved. The rest of his memories were blurry, his mind swarmed with that day. He had written and sent several letters to Ajax that day...but it wouldn’t subdue that uneasy feeling that filled the pit of his stomach.

The anxiety he felt that day. All he wanted was for him to be okay. To be alright. He didn’t care if he didn’t love him anymore. All he wanted was for him to be safe. Hours ticked by as he checked in with Adeline over and over, asking about any letters from Ajax and always getting the same answer. No sir.

Every time those words left her lips his heart would ache. Where was Ajax? He negotiated with himself, trying to come up with some logical situation. Perhaps he was just on a mission, or, maybe, Ajax had finally gotten tired of him. Diluc started to shut down. Becoming cold in his words and actions as he worked and worked, anything to push away whatever thought haunted him in the back of his mind.

When Adeline rushed to him with a letter however...and overwhelming sense of relief washed over him, perhaps a little too quickly. When he opened the black envelope, he quickly noticed it was from the Tsarista. He read through it over and over.

Ajax had ran from the Fatui? He was safe but...this woman could have very much so seen every “I love you” that Diluc and Ajax exchanged. Every intimate moment and their private love story was out on display for all of Snezhnaya to see. The red head’s body was numb. This was it. This is where it was to end. Only lasting for three, almost four months. It became apparent to Diluc now. It didn’t matter how long they waited...Ajax would never be able to be with Diluc. It was too dangerous.

Diluc had watched the fire mindlessly, asking Adeline go put any letter from Snezhnaya aside until morning. Even amongst the fire, the book that sat heavy in his palms wasn’t enough to distract him. It would never be enough. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat or focus on the task he had given himself. It was so short lived Diluc couldn’t do anything. He felt helpless.

He wasn’t sure when, but soon enough Lisa, Jean and Kaeya had silently made their way into his winery. They saw the winemaker sitting absentmindedly in the seat wearing a deep maroon shirt as he seemed almost lost in the flames performance. They were silent, the pain Diluc felt seeping just under they’re skin. The Uncrowned King of Mondstadt was happy with the Harbinger. Genuinely happy. He smiled and laughed more when he was with him, far too affectionate for a single person to even recognize that it was in fact Diluc with that Harbinger.

It was late now, midnight, and Diluc had disappeared to do his nightly routines. Lisa, the kindhearted woman she was, searched for him only to hear broken sobs from his bathroom as he sung a Snezhnayan tune through his cries. Deciding to let him have his space, Lisa notified Jean and Kaeya, a look of dismay dancing wearily along their features.

Too engorged in the agony the night had brung, they fell victim to sleep while Diluc grasped at the cold empty spot in his sheets. Where Ajax once laid as he quietly played the tune in his room, silently crying himself to sleep, slipping in and out of what was once peaceful to what was now a pained filled memory.

By morning, Diluc was too scared to leave the comfort of his linens. Too scared that if he left, what was left of Ajax would disappear too quickly. He wasn’t ready to let him go. He wanted to see the world with him. To move far away and own pets together, calling them their children and creating their own family out in the middle of nowhere...but now it was all just a dream too out of reach for Diluc to hold on.

Carefully, Kaeya walked in and held Diluc as he broke down in his arms. He had dealt with this woman that had intentions of hurting Diluc. He had read every note this woman had dare sent to the winery and disposed of them, a brutal back and forth of letters that should have taken days but it all happened within an hour. Diluc wouldn’t leave the bed. He would never have a happy ending...he couldn’t. The archons wouldn’t allow him to have a happy ever after.

Hours ticked by as he hugged Childe’s pillow, resting in his spot on the bed as he stared out the window. There was never enough time. He laughed bitterly at himself, Jean had even warned him this would happen and he made no effort to listen. No effort to put a stop to whatever forbidden love story he had hoped to achieve. Here he was now, lying pathetically in his bed because of this impossible love story.

Night had fallen once more and he had never been happier to get a letter from Ajax. He read it over and over. The Harbingers didn’t care for their little escapade...the Tsarista, however, would take “time” he said. Time. Something unknown to Diluc. There was no such thing as time. He knew if he stayed Ajax would only get hurt. He already suffers so much, Diluc didn’t want to add to that list if it wasn’t necessary.

And so...he wrote his, hopefully, final letter. He told Childe that he believed in him from the start, encouraging him to chase his dreams and to be himself even if others said not to. At that, he wished him the best of luck as he sent the letter, signing it and crying on his front porch.

They didn’t have a happy every after. What they had was no future at all. Their moments trapped behind an hourglass that would flop over and over in their minds. That’s all it was.

No future.

—

I’m sorry if it’s messy and a little ooc. I needed to vent pretty badly and Chiluc is my comfort ship and this situation that I went through is kind of the reason why I ship them at all.

Ah, the art of forbidden love.

[saladejin]

What Words Can’t Say | OT7

OT7 x Reader | idolverse, fansign!au | Fluff, slight crack, social awkwardness, probably seems unrealistic

(very self-indulgent, from 2-3 years ago) 

Summary: You go to a fansign event for the very first time, but you can’t speak Korean. How will you win over the boys?

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay so I was debating on bringing this over from AO3 for the longest time. It’s an older one-shot and very much fuelled by the fansign fantasies many of us have had (if you’re an international ARMY like me). 

MEANING it’s quite packed with what I consider to be clichés, since I really had to try and put myself in the shoes of someone who’s been to a fansign (and having to write the boys kind of in character took lots of thought). So I’m sorry if this is too unbearable for some! I did my best at the time. 

*Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’. 

  Bold = English (very important).

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      The anticipation was actually killing you, there was no denying it.

Somehow, things had happened and now you were waiting in the line to meet and talk to your favourite band of all time, the Bangtan Boys. Yeah … things had definitely happened, and you were quite frankly still shaken at the very thought. How had you even won a ticket to the fan-meet in the first place?

You couldn’t remember, not at a time like this.

The line was long, and you had already been waiting in it for about two hours since you weren’t even close to the front of the line. At any other time you would’ve been a bit bummed, but now the anticipation was eating away at you. Well, actually the main reasons were:

1. You were an international fan, and that wouldn’t even be a problem if you had made an earlier trip or something.

2. You hadn’t expected to win a ticket, so here you were with your rusty ass Korean skills.

3. No written hangul = no questions or easy conversation.

What were you going to do!? 

You had prepared literally everything you could, thinking hard about gifts and writing a small letter to Namjoon in English that would sum up what you would’ve written to everyone if you could, but the written Korean had just been a little too much to master in the time you had.

Sure, you had memorised a few key verbal phrases and responses for the general meeting, but this was seriously going to be tough. You would try your best at expressing your adoration for all seven boys, but you were so scared the message just wasn’t going to filter through well enough.

It’s actually a good thing I’m not at the front, then I’m not holding up too many people.

You watched as the boys interacted with their fans so affectionately, and cursed yourself for not being good enough at languages. Honestly, just meeting them and hearing them speak at all would be enough, but you so badly wanted much, much more.

I tried, that’s all I can say.

~

The boys were looking stunning as usual, hair coloured black and shining under the lights of the closed venue; their clothes appearing just as stylish as usual.

You hadn’t dolled yourself up too much in comparison, opting for light natural makeup and a trendy enough choice of fashion. You just wanted to be comfortable, and you knew you had made the right choice when you spotted some fans grimacing in pain from their heels or pulling down on their ill-fitting tops and dresses.

The boys wouldn’t be judging that aspect the most anyway, because it was your speaking you were terrified about. You took solace in knowing the gifts were what you’d put most of your thought into, because you’d spent so much time making them for about three nights in a row.

I mean, if you couldn’t write them lengthy letters, why not make them something they could have fun and create fan-related memories with? That was all you could ask for.

~

Finally, the girls from the current row were almost gone, and your row moved up to the front expectantly. You could see the boys closely now, and the smile on your face couldn’t possibly get any wider. The last few fans were taking their time at the end of the table, and as a result most of the members were idly looking into the audience or speaking into the microphone every now and again.

“How are you all? Tired?” Jimin smiled as he rested his head in his hands, rings glinting underneath the harsh lighting. Replies echoed back at the boy loudly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak because your breath had literally been stolen by his effortless charm.

How were you going to survive being in front of them?

“That’s good, make sure you drink lots of water,” Jimin advised before letting the microphone rest on the table below him, running one hand through his hair to shake away any messiness.

One fan screamed something from further behind your row, but you couldn’t quite catch what it was. The members who heard the outburst fell into fits of laughter, and you saw Hoseok lean sideways to slap Jimin on the shoulder as he chuckled. The younger boy hid his face slightly, but his smile was positively beaming.

“Thank you for that!” Taehyung saluted towards the rowdier part of the audience in response. Literally every time one of the boys did something, shouts and high-pitched screams of the fans would follow. It was easy enough to drown out though, and you had to admit joining in sometimes.

Oh my God, is Seokjin smiling at me?

You froze as you trailed your eyes down to the left side of the table and locked gazes with the eldest of the band. He seemed to be looking at the whole row, but you swore you saw his eyes darting back and forth to your area more than a few times.

“He’s looking at us!” The fan next to you squealed and grasped lightly onto your arm in a bout of excitement, but you couldn’t blame her.

Seokjin spotted the exchange and did a tiny wave in your direction, causing you to raise your own hand and blow a small kiss back at him sweetly.

Wait, why did you just do that?

“You’re cute, but I’ll always be the best.” Seokjin grinned as he picked up his microphone and let it drop again before dramatically blowing his signature kiss right back at you. You laughed loudly, but it was drowned out by the shattering screams of the surrounding fans.

“He just spoke to you!” The same fan from before faced you while shaking her arms around in exaggeration.

“Yeah, we are next. You talk soon,” you pointed out with raised eyebrows and tried your best to gather your Korean the best you could.

“Oh, are you foreign?” She tilted her head in confusion, long black hair swinging.

“Yes, I’m very lucky!”

But it must be too easy to tell…

“Amazing, I’m happy you could come and meet the boys too!” she replied with just as much enthusiasm alighting her tone. The conversation then ended when people started screaming for Yoongi to make hearts, and the kind girl turned away to voice her own input.

You noted that you were kind of short compared to many of the Korean girls and boys sitting in the audience, but it wasn’t too strange. Even younger fans came to these fansigns sometimes.

“Next please,” a deepened voice urged from the end of your row, and you gulped as the nerves gripped at your tightening throat. “Oh my God this is happening,” You murmured, and jumped when the same girl in front of you turned around with a smile.

“It’s okay, fun have fun!”

It was so nice that she was comforting you in your own language.

You bowed your thanks with your own smile and turned to wait for the line to inch along again. Most of the boys were idle now, and while Taehyung was doing cute little dances towards the ARMYs in the audience, the rest were scanning over your row to see what would await them.

Seokjin was occupied by the first fan, but your breath hitched when you saw Jimin and Jungkook throwing tiny waves towards the members of your row. The latter obviously imitating the former like the mischievous brat he was. Still, your mind melted at the adorable sight of their cheeky smiles, and you couldn’t help but clutch at your chest with one hand.

“Are you okay? You there in the first row?” Jimin’s giggle brought you back to your senses, and it took you a good couple of seconds to register that it was you he was talking to. The boy looked at you with amusement, his parted black locks framing his face handsomely as his eyebrows drew together in mock concern.

“Everyone,” Jungkook grasped for his mic, “Jimin-hyung is making you all have heart attacks, what will you do?”

The fans shouted their responses, but you weren’t capable of deciphering them too well. You thought you heard one girl shout something along the lines of ‘send me to hospital!’, but you weren’t entirely sure.

“I’ve had too many today,” You shook your head when the noises had died down just enough for them to hear, and were rewarded with the amused chuckles of the maknaes in return.

“Calm your hearts, everyone!” Hoseok waved one arm and let his tone drop into a warning, causing everyone to laugh at his concerned pout.

Wow, you were seriously interacting with them already and you hadn’t even reached the table. You could almost shriek with happiness.

“Next.”

Okay this is it, God give me courage.

You gripped your bag harder as you breathed shakily, taking careful steps to kneel at the end of the table in front of an eager Seokjin. His eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you, and you could barely stop the rumbling emotions from surfacing.

“Hello!” He grinned as he went straight to signing the album page in front of him, his large hand effortlessly gliding along the route even his muscles would probably remember.

“Hello,” You bowed, “I’m so happy to meet you, Jin.”

Seokjin chuckled as he finished up with the signature and leant forward in his seat to hear you better. His loose shirt was dipping a bit too low for your trembling heart to handle.

“Are you … Are you English speaking ARMY?”

Your breathing drew to a stop and you forced down a groan of disappointment.

“Ah, too easy to tell right? Hello, yes I speak English. Sorry!” You bowed and let both of your hands rest on the table so you could relax. You knew you wouldn’t be able to stay for too long, but your legs were falling asleep already.

“It’s okay! Where are you from?” Seokjin smiled and leaned even further forwards. You swore you heard him mumble a ‘cute’ somewhere along the line, but you were too focused on trying to speak properly that you let it soar right over your head.

“(Y/c), we love you there.” You beamed and also leaned forwards so he could catch everything you were saying. You were sure your eyes were glistening with adoration, so you hoped that would get across most of the thoughts you kept stored within.

“Wow, thank you for coming.” He tilted his head in appreciation and held up both hands for you to grasp onto. You swallowed apprehensively, and as you reached up to interlock your fingers together with his much longer ones, he cooed at your expression.

“I love your voice and I love your jokes,” You stated as you looked upwards for two reasons. Firstly to try and conjure forth the words you were thinking about, and secondly to stop any pesky tears from flowing down your cheeks suddenly. The fact that you were holding hands with Kim Seokjin himself was enough to break you down into a weeping mess.

Deciding you couldn’t take any more struggling, you reached into your bag to bring out the envelope marked with his name, in your best attempt at Korean handwriting. You also brought out a tiny flipbook with certain phrases scrawled across the marked pages.

“Please keep this with you until I reach the end of the table, I have one for everyone so I want you to open them all together please,” You read out confidently now that you had the confirming notes, and at your smile, the black-haired vocalist nodded his head fondly.

“Thank you so much, what is your name? What is your name?”

You returned his toothy smile.

“(Y/n), thank you-”

Your face dropped as the loitering staff behind the eldest member urged you to move with one sharp hand gesture, and you felt your chest tighten at the thought of pointlessly wasting too much time.

Seokjin saw the flicker of sadness cross your features, and looked behind him to see what was happening before turning around with his own pout.

“Thank you (Y/n), I will open,” He held up the envelope, and waved it along with his hand in farewell so cutely that you gripped at your heart again. The feelings of giddy glee swelled inside you, and you couldn’t help but grow excited once more as you waved your goodbyes enthusiastically and scooted over to sit in front of Hoseok.

Seokjin followed your form with a lingering smile, but it morphed into a frown when a staff member tried to slide the envelope away from underneath his fingertips.

“No, not yet please. It’s a surprise for later!”

You missed the exchange because you were already deep into an English conversation with J-hope himself. He had been idle for the last half of your conversation with Jin, so he had instantly picked up on your language barrier and greeted you warmly when you moved.

“(Y/c)? Wow, long way! Is this your first time?” The bright-spirited rapper made quick work of the signing before holding one hand up for a crisp high-five. You obliged immediately with the most dazzling smile you could muster.

“Yes, first time!”

“Is your heart okay? Now?” He asked suddenly, and it took you a few moments to realise that he was talking about the minutes before you had even made it to the table. Where Jimin had caused your very life essence to falter for a few moments.

“You remembered me? Well, no,” You smirked after laughing, letting your hands be held by the grinning man in front of you endearingly.

“Oh! Why?” He questioned while his eyes widened with concern, and you pulled one of your hands free to point at him cutely.

“Because of you.”

Hoseok made a loud sound of amazement and leaned back in his seat, the large smile never leaving his features as he shook your hand back and forth gently. The reaction had been something you were expecting, and you could feel your sides beginning to hurt from how much you were containing the laughter.

“Hobi-hyung is the one giving heart attacks now,” Jimin’s voice suddenly rang out through the concert hall, and you whipped your head around to see him sitting next to Hoseok and talking into the microphone lowly. When he turned back to watch you, your eyes blew wide because his eye-smile was just way too cute.

Hoseok pulled you back to him with a soft tug against your fingers, and you cursed yourself internally for wasting time again.

“Ah, sorry oppa, please take this. I love your mixtape!”

He mouthed the word ‘oppa’ and giggled before thanking you sincerely, but you were so taken aback by his overall cheerfulness that you forgot any misgivings you had about your pronunciation. You repeated the same instructions by reading off your booklet, but jolted in surprise when a hand tentatively reached forward to poke one of your cheeks lightly.

“Cute! Isn’t she cute Jiminie?” Hoseok shook his head in wonder, and you were even more surprised to see that Jimin had been watching the rest of the encounter as well. Had you actually managed to catch the curiosity of all the members already?

“Yes, hurry it up so she can sit with me!” Jimin playfully wacked his hyung’s shoulder and you laughed at their antics, eyeing the irked staff members behind them wearily.

I wish I could just spend as much time as I wanted here.

“Bye Hobi, please open later!” You waved rapidly and high-fived the rapper one more time, making sure he slid the envelope towards himself before scooting across to where Jimin was smiling widely down at you.

Since Hoseok had barely heard the instructions you had given him, he reached over to tap Seokjin’s shoulder for some help. If only he hadn’t been too caught up with the adorable foreign girl who had seemingly captured his heart from one measly conversation.

As you chatted with Jimin using your broken Korean, you noticed the members further down the table growing curious about the envelopes you were leaving behind in your wake. The staff members were probably going to hate your guts, but hey; you were here to make an impression and showcase your full love and devotion in any way that you could. Nothing would stop you now.

“I … don’t speak English,” Jimin warned when he finished signing, and rested his hands underneath his chin to prop himself up. He was most likely exhausted, but he still seemed fully enraptured with you and anything you had to say. Maybe you just looked interesting enough to pay extra special attention too, but you eventually figured they acted this way with every single fan.

“It’s okay!” You swiped one hand through the air reassuringly, and he dipped his head in another bout of amused chuckling. Just from your loud and bubbly tone alone.

“I learn, for you.” You swapped your hand to point to yourself then to him, not even having to try too hard to maintain a warm smile. The boy in front of you was too charming, and you couldn’t resist your expressions just quirking in that way.

“Thank you, you’re a very sweet ARMY. Where…wait, what is your name?” He confidently voiced the last question in a very triumphant tone, and you let out a loud sound of wonder and surprise.

“I’m (Y/n), you’re English is great!”

Jimin calculated for a few seconds before gasping and holding up his hands for you to hold. You reacted instantly and sat up on your knees to reach his hands, relishing in the way his pretty fingers held yours and swayed them from side to side softly.

“I love your voice, and I love your dancing. You … a beautiful dancer,” You breathed out, trying not to let the emotions build up and lodge in your throat again, but it was very difficult. Jimin smiled at your praise, but unfortunately noticed your watery eyes and cut his chuckling short.

“Thank you! Oh, no cry.” He craned his neck downwards to look up into your line of sight, and you fought back the prickling behind your eyelids with a playful groan of annoyance.

“I’m just too happy, I love you guys.”

“Happy? Happy cry?” The vocalist smiled sweetly while grasping your hands once more.

“I love you too (Y/n)!”

God, this boy would seriously leave you dead on the floor one of these days.

“Excuse me, please move along,” A staff member looked at you pointedly with raised eyebrows, and you knew you were definitely not in their good books already. You were only three members in, for crying out loud!

“Oh, okay. Wait, Jiminie can you please take this?” You scrambled to find the correct envelope from your bag, and you flickered your gaze upwards to nod at the staff member in assurance before inching sideways slowly.

“Yes, open later like the others?” Jimin queried while pointing to Hoseok and Seokjin who were locked in conversations with other fans, but the former side-glared at his younger member curiously when he saw the pointed finger.

Wow, he’s been paying close attention.

“Yes, thank you and I’ll miss you!” You exchanged high-fives and sweetened smiles with him one last time before you suddenly found yourself face-to-face with a concentrating Taehyung. Well, he was laser-focused on signing the album at first, but he finished quickly seeing as though you took so long with your goodbyes to Jimin.

“Hello.” He waved adorably, and your whole demeanour brightened when you heard the English right from the very get-go. This caused a few amused and awed chuckles from other parts of the table, but you let all the other sounds drown out.

“Hello Tae, thank you so much!” You beamed again, and you wondered how your face wasn’t aching from all the unusual stretching. Thinking ahead, you fished out his envelope early so you wouldn’t have to flounder with it later on.

“Ah, very cute,” He pointed to the handwriting displayed on the card and chuckled, showing off his boxy smile before meeting your gaze with his own honey-chocolate eyes. His voice and visuals up close were absolutely breathtaking, and you had to take a deep breath before you could even form words.

“Thank you, Oh my God.” You buried your face in your hands, urging away the prickling and masking your crackling voice with laughter. You had managed to keep it together so far, you just needed to last until the end.

“Okay,” You started after Tae’s own chuckles had died out, “I love your singing so much, and I love your humour, very funny.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows at your sudden Korean and clapped for you once you had finished. As he ruffled his own hair, you became breathless at how stunning his smile actually was.

“Thank you! You know Korean?”

“A little,” You cringed, obviously wishing you knew more. Taehyung reached forward to hold your hands softly.

“No, no. Your Korean is good!” He flashed a thumbs up before keeping his hand there for a high-five. You smiled and reached upon your knees to press your palm to his incredibly larger one, letting out a high-pitched sound of surprise when he enveloped your fingers within his own.

“How are you today?” He giggled, the airy sound trailing his voice so adorably.

“Amazing!”

“Amazing? Because you meet BTS?” He tilted his head, shaking your hands just like how Hoseok had previously.

“Of course, I’m such a big fan. I love your songs,” You gripped his hands just like he had gripped yours, and overflowed with joy when the young vocalist actually seemed to understand your words. 

“Oh yes, favourite song? Do you have?”

Ah, this would be a tricky one.

“I sing for you,” He added with a smirk and nodded encouragingly when you widened your eyes at him. “Can you sing with me?”

Okay, now you were terrified. Sing with Kim Taehyung? How could you ever even hope to use your vocal cords in his proximity?

“I love Singularity,” You suggested with a smile nonetheless, “But I’m not very good at Korean. Little Korean.”

You repeated your gesture solemnly, as you were constantly reminded of your inadequacy. The boy in front of you pouted and shook his head.

“No, you very good. I sing for you.”

You suddenly realised why the song had come to mind first, and that was because it was actually currently playing over the speakers to promote their album. He gasped silently and pointed upwards when you both realised, big brown eyes glimmering with joy. You let your eyes flutter closed when he began singing the melody that accompanied the music.

I’ll never get over it. The huskiness, the smooth dulcet tones…

You were broken from the trance when he cut himself off, and you opened your eyes to see the staff member gesturing for you to move urgently. The moments of sadness were so painful, but you took another breath and steeled yourself to leave the vocalist and move on. The gloom would still be there after this whole thing anyway, probably stronger than before.

“Bye bye, please open after!” You slid the envelope further towards the boy, but laughed when you caught sight of his dramatic fake crying. He reached towards you with two hands again and you high-fived him eagerly. He was actually the cutest bean alive, and you adored his childish side as well whenever it came out.

As you shuffled along to meet Namjoon, you felt cold dread bloom within your chest when you saw a new staff member walk up and reach in to take the envelope from Taehyung’s part of the table. The said boy was too caught up with the next fan to even take notice, and you felt your heart breaking at the thought of him not being able to receive his gift along with the others.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Namjoon’s deep voice sliced into your thoughts like a knife, and you scolded yourself for being so incredibly rude.

“Hello RM! Sorry, it’s nothing. I should have known the gift thing wasn’t going to work out perfectly.”

Ah, why were you so negative all of a sudden? The leader of BTS had these few precious moments with you, but you were wasting them!

“It’s okay! I’m so, so happy to meet you, you’re such an amazing and inspiring person.” You clapped your hands together and bowed lightly in his direction, causing the rapper to smile and show off his dimples in the most endearing way possible. Was it just you, or did you hear him also mumble a small ‘cute’ under his breath?

“I’m glad to meet you too, what’s your name?”

“I’m (Y/n).”

“Hello (Y/n), how have you been today? Has it been fun?” He held out his hands for you to high-five while you were positively swooning from his welcoming smile.

After holding his hands, you launched into the rantings you’d had to keep to yourself for the other boys. Well, it wasn’t that different, you just went into more detail about how much you loved and enjoyed the band and everything they put out for their fans to hear.

“So I just wanted to let you know all of that, and I’m sorry I couldn’t learn properly to tell all of you.” You sighed, reaching into your bag to pull out Namjoon’s envelope and extra little letter. The letter basically had some of what you just said, but sometimes it was just easier to express things on paper.

“Wow, thank you for all your thoughts. You know, we really appreciate you coming all this way and supporting us, everything means a lot.” Namjoon looked at you with so much sincerity and appreciation, you could barely even contain yourself.

“It’s always worth it, your messages will always reach us. I’ve always wanted to thank you for the effort you put in, and thank you for loving music as much as you do.”

Namjoon put one hand over his heart and nodded, smiling widely and laughing that bashful laugh of his.

“Please take this and open it when I’m at the end. Actually, I don’t think it’ll work…” You trailed off when you remembered Taehyung’s had already been taken away from him, so the plan for them all to have matching presents would be soiled.

“Oh, the envelopes? I saw you giving them out before, they’re quite big to be just ordinary letters. What are they?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow as he grabbed for the mentioned paper. “Hold on, this is solid.”

You wore a smirk again. “Yeah, they’re just things I made for all of you, something I thought you’d find a bit fun. But I wanted you to all open them together.”

Your head flicked sideways when you saw Taehyung moving out of the corner of your eye. He looked down under the table and then around himself worriedly, bringing up his hands to indicate he’d lost something.

“V-ssi, your envelope?” Namjoon asked into the microphone so the ARMYs in the crowd could understand what was happening.

“Hyung, did you see where it went?”

You were shifting along the line again, as the staff were not letting up, but you did want to find out if Taehyung would get his gift back or not. I mean, you wouldn’t be that surprised if they all just gave up and let the staff add the envelopes to their massively growing pile of letters.

“Bye (Y/n), I’ll make sure we all have the presents,” Namjoon waved at you cutely and you returned it immediately, feeling a bit shitty that your experience had been slightly ruined by your own creations.

“Hello, English?” Yoongi murmured when you finally settled in front of him, and you had no choice to return his small smile.

“I don’t have to, but I know little Korean. Sorry!”

The rapper shook his head in mock disappointment, and you laughed in response. His sarcasm was always something you had adored.

“What is your name? I heard something like (Y…?”

“(Y/n), you were almost there.” You chuckled, and you felt so happy to see him smiling along with you. Everyone always enjoyed saying he was cold, but this was just pure evidence that he loved interacting with fans just as much as the others did. It’s normal to show it in different ways.

“Yoongi I just want to say, I just want to say I love your rapping and your music production and writing so much. You are very talented.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows and let his mouth gape slightly at the language change, smiling at the pronunciation. Maybe he just found it cute like the others? You hoped you weren’t making a fool of yourself.

“Thank you, (Y/n).” He reached forward with one hand, and you didn’t even hesitate to press your own palm into it softly.

“I think,” You took a moment to look down at your flipbook, “I think your emotions really flow into your music extremely well, and people love relating to your lyrics.”

Yoongi smirked and nodded, showing how much he was appreciating your words through his actions rather than speaking. He let go of your hand momentarily to thank you again, also applauding you for your obvious practicing of the phrase.

“Can you please take this and open it when I’m at the end?” You pulled the second last envelope from the bunch and slid it over to his side of the table.

He took it with another nod and flashed you a tiny smile as you were urged along the line yet again. Time went by so fast, and you knew your whole fansign experience was soon going to draw to a close.

“Jungkookie!” You cooed quietly as you shuffled over to the last remaining member of BTS. The maknae grinned and widened his eyes at your non-discreet entrance, but you knew it wouldn’t be anything he wasn’t used to.

“Hello, do you have a present for me too?” Jungkook rubbed his hands together mischievously, but you hummed lowly.

“Sorry, uh, English? All I got was present, I think,” You cursed at yourself internally, again.

“Oh!”

Poor bunny.

“Uh, present? For me?” The dark-haired vocalist cocked his head with the most adorable expression of curiosity you had ever seen.

You vaguely noted Taehyung getting to his feet now that he didn’t have any fans sitting in front of him, taking a few steps backwards to discuss something with the staff.

“Taehyungie lost his present,” Jimin said into the microphone, smiling out into the crowd as cheers of support chorused from it. Taehyung turned back around and threw a thumbs up towards the mass of fans, and in return the room erupted into screams.

“Very…loud,” Jungkook brought one hand up to gesture around his ear, and you melted at how cute he was when he spoke in English using that characteristically shy voice of his.

After telling him your name and where you were from, you gave the maknae his envelope and chatted with him for a few more seconds about his singing and dancing. You had touched on your favourite points with each member, and that fact alone made you feel more accomplished than ever before. Now they knew how you felt, at least you hoped they did to some extent.

“Thank you, I heard V-hyung singing,” Jungkook pointed down the table. “I sing too?”

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, a staff member came right in beside the end of the table to point you towards the exit, and your face fractured into the most sullen expression you had worn for the whole night.

Jungkook noticed, and so did several other members who weren’t occupied. Together they smiled and waved, eventually causing the rest to join in once they realised what was going on.

“Sorry, Bye (Y/n)!” Jungkook held up his hand for a high-five, and you smiled again to oblige enthusiastically.

“I sing next time!”

“I hope, there’s next time,” You laughed, trying hard to think about the vocabulary to use.

“Sorry everyone, but we can open them now?” Seokjin complained into his microphone, obviously impatient after having the longest wait time.

The staff directed you towards the side of the stage, and you took one look behind you to see every single member ripping open their envelopes to see what was inside, regardless of if they had fans waiting in front of them or not.

“Wow!”

“Oh, these are great!”

“Ohhhh…”

~

It wasn’t anything spectacular you had put together, they were just colourful headbands. Well, to be exact they were headbands that had each member’s name in large letters following the arc of the band, in their favourite colours of course. Fun!

The idea had been a very fun one, and you knew the hilarious photos that could come out of Hoseok having a massive, green ‘J-HOPE’ protruding from his head during shows for example. The thing was, you knew they would love to have something like this a keepsake, and you hadn’t held back at all when thinking about the size and vibrant shades of the decorations.

It was go big or go home.

“Thank you (Y/n)!” Seokjin’s voice flooded the whole area, but it was almost drowned out by the roar of the screaming crowd. He now wore a massive blue ‘Jin’ on his head, and the audience were absolutely loving it.

You felt warm inside, because it wasn’t as if you needed to be acknowledged or put on a pedestal. As long as they were happy, even if it was just for a few fleeting moments, your job was done.

          Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[s-n-a-k-e-p-i-t]

simple questions / draco x hermione

A/N: coming @ you with some more dramione things that just live in my head rent free until they get moved to tumblr rent free

Warnings: mention of alcohol

Premise: After getting his task from Voldemort, Draco is coming to terms with the fact that once he kills Dumbledore, his life will no longer be his own. Overwhelmed with feelings he decides to do one last thing for himself.

Word count: 2k ish

- - - - - -

It was ridiculous, really, for him to be be so concerned with trivial things, the Christmas ball no doubt. But, he supposed it was a part of his acceptance. Acceptance that after this year his life would never be the same. That from that point forward he would either live forever in fear or be forever feared by others, and if he was being perfectly honest with himself, neither of those lifestyles appealed to him much at all. 

He had never really wanted people to fear him, it was just easier that way. Love was complicated, but fear, oh fear was very simple and it had served him for the time being. But the fear he was used to had always been instigated by a couple of harsh words he didn’t really mean or maybe a scowl, and the new fear he would come to be controlled by would follow murder...

He’d have to take life from another human being... when he’d never even squished a bug. 

And so he sat, alone in the Slytherin common room while everyone else was at dinner, thinking about all the things he could do while his life was still his, before he’d have to murder dear ol’ Dumbledore, and his path would change forever. 

He scoffed. Tad dramatic. 

He knew he’d still have his friends after carrying out his task. After all, most of their parents were Death Eaters. One life taken by him was nothing compared to what their parents had all done. They'd be hesitant at first, but eventually would come around, especially once they took their Marks. 

A face flashed behind his eyelids and he pinched the bridge of his nose. A sinking feeling filled his stomach and he took a deep breath. That face would surely never come around, not that she thought much of him to begin with. No, he’d definitely never come back from this one with her. These last few months were all he had left with her, better make the most of it. 

She had always intrigued him and he had found it hard to ignore her. She was smart, sharp, and she challenged him in ways no one else really had the guts for. They were similar in many ways and he had come to find that he actually really enjoyed being around her. And though she had what his father had always referred to as, “dirty blood” he had found himself caring less and less about it over the past six years of knowing her. He’d even stopped using that awful word their second year after seeing how upset it had made her. He had always wondered that if things were different, if they would’ve stood a chance. And now, with this given assignment, he was sure they never would. 

His stare bored into the fire as the gears in his mind continued to turn. The reflection of the flames danced on his face and he pressed his knuckles against his lips. He took a deep breath in and a deep breath out and made a decision. “Now or never,” he breathed. And with that he stood up rather quickly, and slipped into the corridor to make his way to the Great Hall. 

- - - - - - -

Hermione had just said goodnight to Harry and Ron, who were turning in early in preparation for tomorrow’s quidditch match. Tired, but not quite ready for bed, she had decided to hang back at dinner. Ginny and Neville were carrying on a friendly, but heated debate, but even they eventually wore each other out and retired for the evening. Hermione stood to leave with them, but as they exited the Great Hall, she stopped and turned to the courtyard. It was a clear night and she enjoyed catching constellations when she got a chance. 

Draco rounded the corner, managing to keep his pace calm and his appearance normal despite the fact his nerves were eating him alive. As he made his way towards the Great Hall, assuming she’d still be at the table talking with her glued-at-the-hip companions, a slight movement caught his eye. There she was, looking up at the night sky and completely oblivious to him approaching. He swallowed hard, his nerves threatening to suffocate him.

“Granger,” he whispered. No response. She was completely mesmerized. He inched closer, as quiet as possible as to not scare her. 

“Granger!” 

She yelped, clearly startled and he instantly felt a twinge of guilt for freaking her out that badly. When she regained her composure, she raised a skeptical eyebrow to him. 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” She asked, her voice almost tired of having to ask that question. 

He licked his lips. His adrenaline had gotten him to her, but he still hadn’t quite planned out what exactly he was going to say. He opened and closed his mouth. He suddenly felt extremely foolish for thinking she would actually say yes to him.

“Right,” she sighed, “Well, when you think of whatever insult you want to throw my way, you know where to find me.”

She took a step, in an attempt to walk around him, but he moved to his right, blocking her path. He looked down into her eyes, feeling her breath hit his face. They were closer than they’d ever been and she was not having it. 

“Malfoy, seriously,” she said through gritted teeth. 

“Granger, please, just-” he stammered.

She took a step back and he immediately felt the absence of her presence. She crossed her arms across her chest, waiting for him to get to the point. 

“I know I haven’t been the nicest guy in the world-”

Hermione laughed. Out loud. In fact, it echoed off the stone surrounding them. The sound completely engulfed him. He closed his eyes and waited for her to be done. He deserved it and he knew it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but are you trying to apologize to me? Has Hell frozen over? Are you ill?”

His hands balled to fists. “If you’d let me finish, you’d know what I was trying to say,” he clipped back. 

The amusement in her eyes returned, “Right of course, carry on.” She was mocking him. 

“Granger. I know this sounds ridiculous, believe me, I'm surprised too..” he took a step towards her. “..but, the truth is, you have always interested me.”

Hermione sucked in a breath. That was not what she had been expecting to hear.

“You challenge me in skill, you actually stand up to me when I’m, well, myself and well you’re, um,” he struggled to find the words, ”actually not too hard on the eyes either.” 

Neither was he. She banished the thought almost immediately.

“Gee, thanks, Malfoy. Can I go to bed now?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Granger, please just listen to me.” 

“Let me think about it,” she said, tapping her chin three times before replying with a short, “No.” And then she went to step around him again and he went to block her again, grabbing her wrist. Her eyes met his, they held the gaze, neither one of them daring to back down. When he blinked, she use the excuse to sweep her eyes over his face, noticing how his jawbone stood out more than usual and his eyes seemed to ache for the comfort of sleep. He slowly let go of his hold on her. Maybe he was falling ill.

“Granger. Look everything is going to hell, I’m just hoping for a glimpse of heaven, before you-you,” his voice faltered, “Before you hate me forever.”

She laughed under her breathe and muttered, “Little late for that.” And then louder, “Now if you’ll excuse me, as much as I’d like to pretend you haven’t chugged a flask of fire whiskey and there’s actually a point to this conversation, I’m going to bed.” 

She saw the hurt flash in his eyes and decided to use that to her advantage.  This time when she stepped around him, he didn’t block her. He was grasping at straws. Admitting feelings? Not something his father had prepared him for. Asking a long time enemy to a ball? Not covered in Bellatrix’s teachings. 

“Look, Gra- Hermione please just hear me out,” he tried one more time. 

She heard her first name and turned swiftly around. Curiosity danced in her eyes as she took in the sight of him. Vulnerable, pleading, honest...? She almost didn’t recognize the boy in front of her, almost. Luckily, over the past few years, she had seen this version of him a handful of times. Times when his mask slipped and she saw who the real Draco Malfoy was. Not the hard outer shell reinforced by Lucius time and time again, but someone who overcame a great deal of expectations and was tired of playing the part. She would never admit it out loud, but had he been like that all the time, she believed they could’ve been, at the very least, friendly. Her curiosity had the best of her. “What?”

He closed his eyes, another deep breath. She watched him carefully, her walls coming down, but still guarded. His eyes betrayed his normally calm demeanor. She stood, anxious in anticipation.

“Will you go to the Christmas ball with me?” He hadn’t meant to say the words so fast, but his nerves had gotten the best of him. He felt his cheeks immediately heat up, his heartbeat roaring in his ears.

The words hung in the air between them. She certainly hadn’t expected him to say that. Hermione didn’t even realize her mouth had fallen open, shock written all over her face. She shook her head, as if to gather her thoughts and then took a step towards him. 

The silence was painful for Draco. His eyes remained glued to her every move as she scanned the courtyard. 

“Please?” He added with a shrug, his voice small, sounding very not like himself at all. 

Her face changed suddenly, and she spoke. “Look Malfoy, I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but I refuse to be the punchline.” 

His face twisted into confusion, hurt littering his features, “No, that’s not what-”

“Ha ha! So funny! Go ahead run back to report to your little friends and collect your winnings.” She fought hard to keep her voice steady, but her emotions were threatening to break out. She was embarrassed not just from what he had asked her, but for what admiring him just moments before. She threw her walls back up. 

“Granger, please, I just, let me prove it to you, just listen-”

“No, you listen. If this is seriously your idea of entertainment, count me out. I’ve heard enough from you and I will not continue to put up with this garbage. I refuse to play along with this stupid little act. Now if you don’t mind, I really will be going now.”

She stalked away and he let her go, watching her disappear into the darkness of the castle. 

When he was finally alone, he let out a big sigh. Perhaps he deserved this, no scratch that, he knew he did. He felt incredibly stupid thinking she would ever even entertain the idea of agreeing to go with him. He hadn’t even stopped to think about how she would take it. And now she had seen him like this. He’d really dug quite the hole for himself. 

The bells rang out on the hour and he headed back in. As he made his way towards the edge of the courtyard, he noticed a rose bush. The flowers seemed to have a soft glow under the moon and starlight. He cut a few off of the bush with his wand and stuffed them in his robes before retiring into the castle for the night. 

- - - - - - -

She laid in bed that night, tossing and turning. Sleep would not come easily. Had that really happened? Had Draco Malfoy asked her to an event? As his date? She thought of his face, giving way to his real personality. Who he was without his gang of friends, without his father, without his tyrannical leader. She had always thought he had a nice face. And though she could go without the douche personality, she did enjoy his mind as well, how he too seemed to know all the answers and how, without fail, he always managed to be the one to finish her sentences in classes. She remembered glances they’d shared, off character things he had said, and a smile she’d managed to catch a few times over the past few years. 

She thought about it all night. 

- - - -

The light peaked through her window, slowly stirring her from her deep, dreamless sleep. No one else in the room had woken up yet and so she decided to head out early and get a jump start on some reading. She threw on her uniform and quietly made her way down into the common room. 

As she sat on the couch, a new object at one of the tables caught her attention. Timidly, she tiptoed over to the table to find a single rose laying on the warm wooden surface. A small piece of parchment was attached. She picked it up, inspecting it closely, blinking several times to ensure she was in fact, not dreaming.

Just let me prove it to you. 

-DM

She put the rose into her bag, careful not to scrunch it up and sighed before exiting the common room in pursuit of the library. 

[glenncoco4]

Hiding

A/N: A/N: He's a pro-surfer. She's a waitress. A chance meeting brings them together and their relationship grows into something more, but it's not always how one imagine it to be.

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

His eyes move with the waves as he watches the barrel form, imagining himself and going through his body movements as he focuses on standing up, and becoming one with the wave. He’s drawn out of his trance at the feel of her hand sliding down his chest as she comes up behind him, her breath warm against his ear. “We should go out for dinner.”

He closes his eyes, letting out a deep gush of air. “Baby, you know how much I want to but-“

Snatching her hand away, she walks around the couch and heads straight for her bag. She’s furious with him, but more so with herself because she agreed to go along with it in the first place. Early on she thought it was just a normal fling and nothing was going to come of it but boy was she wrong. “But nothing. I’m tired of this, Marty. I’m tired of your excuses.”

At her words, he quickly hops up off his seat and scurries over to her, his hands finding their place on her shoulders. “Kens, baby, please don’t go.”

She lets out a deep calming breath, willing herself not to cry before turning around and coming face to face with decision she had no idea she’d be making today. “I deserve more, Marty. I deserve a whole lot more than what you’re giving. I thought I could handle hiding out, and sneaking around so you can protect your “bad boy” image, but I’m sick of it.”

“I’m trying to protect you, why can’t you see that.”

“You’re trying to protect yourself and I can’t be in a relationship with someone who’s more focused on the opinion of strangers than the opinion of the person they said they love more than anything.”

He reaches out for her but she pulls back, stinging him like nothing ever before. “Baby, no. Don’t go.”

“Goodbye, Marty. Call me when decide to live your life the way you want to and not the way others want you to.”

He watches as she walks out the door, leaving the life they had behind her. The ache that’s in his chest tells him just how bad he screwed up, how selfish he was. Leaning against the wall, he slides down to the floor as the tears begin to make themselves known. “What did I do?”

XXXX

She sits the plates down in front of the respective customers, telling them to enjoy their meal. At this point she’s just going through the motions. Yesterday was a shit show inside a dumpster fire and the numbness continues to grow. She can’t get him out of her head, out of her heart. Maybe she walked away too soon, maybe if she-NO, she did the right thing.

The brunette’s so lost in her own thoughts, she does’t see him until she’s halfway across the dinning room, stopping her in her tracks. “What are you doing here?"

“I’m here to apologize to you.”

“And you chose to do it now?”

“Marty Deeks?”

Their attention turns to the older woman who is now in their immediate vicinity. He sends her a quick smile before turning his attention back on Kensi.

“Oh, my god. I’m like your biggest fan.”

“That’s nice.” Any other time he would talk to her but right now is not the time. So he sends her a brief smile only to turn back to see the brunette’s retreating form.

“Kens, please?”

She quickly turns around, irritation written clear on her face. “WHAT?”

“I love you. Please?”

“You can do better than that, Marty.” She knows it sounds harsh, but she can’t turn a blind eye any more.

He can feel the eyes in the room on him, if there’s ever a moment when he needs her to know how sorry he is, it’s right now, so he powers through. “I love that you push me to be my best because you know what I’m capable of. You see me for me and no one ever has before, not really. Ever since I was 18 all I ever was to anybody was a dollar sign, but not with you.” Gaining a small amount of courage, he takes a few steps towards her almost as if she’s pulling him in. “I was wrong to keep you hidden, because you deserve to be shown off to the world. You deserve so much more than what I can give you, but if you’ll forgive me, I promise to do everything to become the man you deserve.” This is the moment of truth. Reaching into his pocket, he takes out an intricate ring, the one that he widdled from the piece of wood of the cutting board that she burnt the first time she tried to cook dinner for him. “Kens, will you marry me?”

Tears spring in her eyes, she so badly wants to say yes but she can’t, knowing he could just as easily back track tomorrow. “I can’t be your secret anymore.”

Taking a deep calming breath, he does something he’d never thought he’d ever do. He pulls out a chair of the empty table that’s right next to them and uses it as a stepping stool to stand on top of the very expensive dining table. “Excuse me, can I have your attention please?” If there were some that weren’t paying attention to what was going on before, they definitely are now. “I've been dating this amazing woman for the past year and a half. Against my better judgment I listened to my team and kept it a secret, but no more secrets.” His attention turns from his “audience” and towards the woman whose always been there for him, loving him, and brining a light he’s never known into his life. “Kensi, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I met you at the beach and you insulted my roundhouse cutback.” At he sight of her smile, he’s suddenly filled with a sense of confidence. “You didn’t care who I was back then and you don’t now, and I mean that in the best way possible. You see me for me and who you know I can become. Ever since I met you, there’s a peace that has washed over me, a peace that up until then, I had only found when I was out in the water. Kens, you deserve to be shown off to the world, and I was wrong to even go along with the idea of hiding your light. Baby, I promise I will never put you in second place again and I promise to love you with everything I am for the rest of my days. So if you’ll have, I would very much like to be your husband.”

The room is filled with a resounding gasp, drawing Kensi’s attention to just how many people are watching them. She’s not use to this and it freezes her. The only thing coming out of her mouth being one of reprimand. “You’re not allowed to stand on the tables.”

He crosses his arms, keeping his feet firm on the piece of furniture. “Well, I’m staying here until you give me an answer.”

“Fine, get down.”

“So?”

For the first time tonight she allows herself to lock eyes with him. She sees the desperate love so clearly written in his cerulean blues and can’t help but give in. Closing the distance between them, she lays her palm on his cheek before standing up on her tiptoes to bring her lips to his in a kiss that she so desperately missed. “Yes.”

The goofy grin that spreads to his face is one that reminds her of a kid on Christmas morning, yet somewhat in disbelief that what he’s asking for is really in his grasp. “Yes?”

She nods, confirming her answer one last time.

“She said yes!!!!” Before she knows it, he has her wrapped up in a bear hug, spinning her around the dinning room of one of LA’s most glamorous restaurants, not a care in the world.

XXXX

Later that night as they step into his loft, Kensi hesitantly observes the room, even though he did everything to make her believe he wouldn’t hide their relationship anymore, there’s still that hint of disbelief in the back of her mind. Before she looses her courage, she turns around, seriousness set on her face. “How do I know this is going to be any different from last time?”

“Turn on the TV.”

Her brow furrows at his evasiveness and weird request, but does it anyway. “Now what?”

“Turn it to E!.”

They stand side by side in the middle of the living room for about 10 minutes before Kensi’s finally aware why she’s watching. “Breaking News: Pro Surfer Marty Deeks is reportedly engaged to longtime girlfriend Kensi Blye an International Global Studies major from UCLA. The assumed “bad boy” surfer has been known for having numerous girlfriends in the past, but it looks like that was just for show. The surfer just released this statement a short while ago.”

First of all, I want to publicly apologize to my fiancée, she wanted no part of keeping us a secret and frankly, neither did I. But I was talked into it by my team because they thought I needed to protect my bad boy image and it also didn’t “look good” that she was a waitress. They were wrong…I was so very wrong. Kensi stood by me even though I haven’t stood by her and there’s no excuse for what I did. Believe me when I say that I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to her. I don’t care about any image or what people think of me other than her, and it took almost loosing her for me to see that. I’ve lived in a persona most of my career and frankly I’m sick of it. She’s the best person I know and she makes me a better man every single day. I can’t wait for the day that she finally becomes my wife.  - Marty Deeks

“Wow, talk about love confession.”

She turns to him, tears in her eyes. There comes a point in life when you realize who’s here to stay and who’s just here in passing. Asking more of him wasn’t a good feeling at first because she knew the risk, but taking that risk and telling him what she needed had to be done. For her and for them. “I love you.”

Wrapping his arms around her, Marty pulls her into him, placing a kiss on the top of her head. The thought of how close he was to loosing her will haunt him for a long time, but spending every day for the rest of their lives together will without a doubt bring in the sunshine. “I love you too.”

[tellmealovestory]

Slip Away

Summary: During a New Years Eve party Bucky pulls you away for some alone time.

Notes: Happy New Year! I wanted to write something for the new year and this happened. Listen it's been years since I've written any kind of smut so I am very rusty and this is my first piece in a longggg time and it's not very good, but it is what it is.

Warnings: 18+ only - badly written smut and some swearing.

“I need to borrow her,” came Bucky’s smooth voice, his hand grasped yours as he tugged you away from Natasha and the conversation you had been having. He didn’t give you a chance to reply, a chance to ask him what the hell he’s doing as he lead you down a narrow hallway. The last thing you heard was Natasha yelling at the two of you to have fun.

“What the hell was th-,” you started, your words cut off as Bucky pulls you into an empty office room. He pressed your back flush against the closed door, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss that has you moaning against him despite being annoyed at his behavior. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer and you can feel him pressing against you. Breaking the kiss you struggle to steady your breathing. 

“I was in the middle of a conversation Bucky! You can’t just pull me away like that.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. A thought that’s confirmed as his lips press soft kisses along your jaw. He can tell you’re annoyed at him, not that he entirely blames you. It wasn’t his finest moment pulling you away like that, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Seeing you in that dress, dancing with Natasha, laughing with Sam, your eyes sparkling, your hair done up so pretty, your lips painted that perfect shade of red that always drives him crazy. 

The way he saw it it was either take you right there where everybody could see or steal you away for some private time.

“Let me make it up to you.” He can hear your breathing start to get heavy as his lips work their way across your jaw, can feel your body begin to relax when he lets his hand slip underneath your dress. His fingertips inching slowly up the inside of your thigh giving you plenty of time to push him away if this isn’t what you want.

"Yeah, not good enough,” you huffed out in annoyance, proud of yourself for being able to get those few words out. You can’t deny that his touch is intoxicating, that it feels good, really good and though you want nothing more than to continue on like this you can’t, not yet.

To his credit he pauses his ministrations, his lips pulling back from your jaw as he glances down at you. Yup, you’re still pissed at him. "I really am sorry, doll. But you in that dress. I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “’Sides don’t think I didn’t notice the way you couldn’t take your eyes off of me either.”

“That’s... that is completely different! I didn’t drag you away from Steve while you were in the middle of a conversation,” you sputtered. 

Okay, yeah, maybe you had been staring at him a lot tonight, but how could you not when he looked so handsome in that suit? You can hear him chuckling and you want to smack him, but you can feel his fingers inching up higher and your breath gets caught in your throat and as you lean your head back against the door silently begging him to continue you both know that you’re a goner.

"Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Depends. Are you going to make it up to me?” you teased, your words coming out breathier than you had intended and you don’t miss the way Bucky’s grip tightens on your waist, the way his hands brush over your soaking core or the way he drops his head into the crook of your neck, the sound of him groaning vibrating against your skin.

“Jesus, doll, you’re not wearing underwear?” He choked out and despite him being so close to touching you you can’t help the giggle that spills from your red lips at his reaction. “Are you tryin’ to kill me?”

“Maybe,” you teased, your hips wiggling against his fingers trying to get him to move.

Taking the hint he slips his middle finger into your wet folds, the sounds of both your moans filling the office room as his lips search yours out. Tangling your hands in his hair you tug on his dark locks as he adds another finger, his thumb brushing slowly over your clit. Deepening the kiss Bucky slides his tongue into your mouth, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you in a pace that you consider far too slow.

The first one to break the kiss your breathing is heavy and ragged as you tilt your head to the side, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his fingers working you so well. “Bucky,” you moaned, your back arching, your chest pressing up against his in a bid to be closer to him, to feel more.

Bucky swallows, watching as your back arches, listening to his name tumble from your perfect, plump lips. No matter how many times he coaxes those beautiful sounds from you it’s something he never tires of, something he doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of. 

“Yeah? That feel good?” he murmured, his lips moving to your exposed neck. Starting with open mouthed kisses he groans at the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers and it spurs him on. His once sweet kisses turn to his teeth grazing over your skin and when that causes your back to arch again, another round of moans and whimpers to spill from your lips he roughly sucks on your neck. He knows that he’s marking you, but he can’t help it, not when your squirming underneath him, your hips moving against his fingers, your nails raking through his hair. 

“Fuck.”

“S-so good, Bucky.” You’re amazed you can even get the words out. Between him sucking on your neck and the feeling of his fingers moving faster, curling inside of you you know that you’re not going to last much longer, but you’re okay with that. This is already so intense and all you can think about is how had you known this was where the night was going to end up you would have been the one to drag him away.

“No idea how good you feel around my fingers, doll, can’t wait to get inside of you,” he groaned, a third finger slipping easily into your soaking folds as he kisses his way back up your neck, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

Whining you untangle your hands from his hair as you reposition your hands on his shoulders. You’re not going to last much longer, not with him talking like that, but the words won’t come out as you feel his fingers curl against that one particular spot inside of you that drives you crazy. 

“Right there,” you gasped, your voice too loud, but you don’t care, not right now, not when you can feel that familiar tightening in your stomach signaling that you’re close.

“Shh, don’t wanna get caught, do we, Y/N?” he teased, hissing when he feels your nails digging in. 

“Bucky... please. I’m so...so close don’t tease me,” you begged, your teeth tugging on your lower lip in an attempt to quiet yourself down. You don’t want to get caught, but you don’t know how he expects you to be quiet when he continues to curl his fingers over that one spot.

“Come on, cum for me, doll, let yourself go, I’ve got you,” he whispered before pressing his lips over yours in a bruising kiss meant to swallow your moans.

And that’s all it takes. Those words, the promise of Bucky catching you as you fall. Your orgasm is intense as it rips through your body, wave after wave crashing over you and you swear if he didn’t have such a tight hold on you you would have fallen to the floor by now. You can feel your knees start to shake, but he only holds you closer, his lips moving over yours more sweetly now as he helps you ride out your orgasm. 

His fingers continue to work you over before the intensity is too much and you swat his hands away. It takes you a couple more minutes before you feel coherent enough to open your eyes and when you do you think you could cum again as he breaks the kiss, bringing his fingers up to his lips which are dripping with your juices, he slips them into his mouth sucking his fingers clean. 

“Oh,” you moaned, the only word coming to mind as you watch him with wide eyes. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen him do and you clench your thighs together as you hungrily press your lips against his. You can faintly taste yourself on his lips and his tongue and you find yourself moaning into the kiss, enjoying it.

“Isn’t this better than some par- shit,” Bucky groaned, his head tilting backwards, surprise written across his face as he feels your fingers making quick work of the button and zipper of his pants.

Tugging the offensive material down his legs you dip your hand into his boxers, letting out your own quiet groan as you wrap your hand around him. Your thumb brushes across the tip of him, smearing his pre-cum and it’s your turn to smirk triumphantly when you hear him groaning above you.

“You’re right. This is much better than a party,” you teased, beginning to move your hand up and down him.

Placing one hand on the door behind you for balance Bucky drops his head to your shoulder, his breathing picking up with every move of your hand. Even though you’ve barely touched him his hips are rocking back and forth against your hand seeking more from you. 

“Fuck.”

Letting go of him you giggle at the pathetic whine that spills from his lips as you tug his boxers down, swallowing as you catch your first sight of his throbbing erection. Part of you wants nothing more than to tease him, to take your time with him, but you can’t deny that you miss the feeling of him in your hand. Reaching forward you take hold of him again, your hand slowly moving up and down his shaft as your free hand moves to cup his balls.

“Y/N,” he groaned. “You really are tryin’ to kill me tonight aren’t you?”

“Mm not my fault you’re old and you can’t keep up,” you teased, your hand moving slightly faster against him.

A growl spills from Bucky’s lips. His hand reluctantly grabs your wrist pulling you away from his length. 

“What did you just say?” His voice is low and dark and you can feel yourself growing even wetter as he pulls his head away from your neck. His eyes so dark they’re almost black.

Pretending to think it over you tilt your head to the side. “Hmm old man? Was that it?”

His eyes never leave yours as he reaches down into his pants pocket to grab a condom. Ripping the wrapper off he rolls it down his length and as he watches you he takes in your messed up hair, the way your chest is rising and falling, the way your black dress rests above your knees. For a moment he thinks about ripping it off of you. It’d only be fair, after all he’s half naked, but the thought of keeping it on while he fucks you against the wall sounds so much better.

“I’ll show you old man.”

Everything seems to happen at once. Your back is slammed against the wall causing you to gasp in surprise. His hands are everywhere. Hiking your dress up, grabbing the back of your thighs as he lifts you up, your legs locking behind his waist, his metal hand grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the door as his flesh hand grabs hold of your waist, his fingers digging into your skin and before your brain even has time to catch up to everything he’s slamming his hips into you earning him a delicious moan.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust before he’s thrusting his hips against yours harshly and you’re left a panting mess. 

Bucky’s pace is rough and fast and you know you’re not going to last long. His lips search out yours and the kiss is sloppy and wet, but fuck if it doesn’t feel good.

When you had called him an old man you knew that you were going to get a rise out of him, but this? This you hadn’t been expecting. Not that you’re complaining. 

His fingers dig into your hip and you know you’ll be a bruised mess in the morning, but once again, you’re not complaining.

Despite how good everything feels you need more and you miss the feeling of being able to use your hands, to run your fingers up and down his neck, to grab his hair, to use his shoulders as leverage.

“Bucky... please.” Your voice is whiny as you push your wrists up against his metal hand, but it’s useless.

“Please what?” His hips continue to slam into you, his teeth biting your lower lip causing you to whimper at the stinging pain. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“I... I need you to touch me.”

Bucky chuckles against your lips and it’s only now that you’re starting to regret calling him an old man.

“I am touching you, doll.”

A frustrated groan tumbles from you and Bucky catches it in his mouth as he presses another heated kiss against you.

“That... that’s not what I mean. Please, Bucky.” It’s a struggle to get the words out and if you weren’t so close to another orgasm you’d feel embarrassed at how whiny and needy you sounded right now.

His pace slows down, your words sinking in and slowly, oh so slowly does his metal hand release your wrists. Your hands fly to his shoulders, your nails digging in. Tilting your head back against the door you breath out a thank you. It had only been a couple of minutes, but you had missed touching him.

“You shouldn’t have called me old man.”

You don’t think it’s possible, but his pace slows down even more and you let out a frustrated growl. His hips are barely rocking against yours and you need more. Opening your eyes you bite your lower lip before calling his name softly as you rake your fingers through his locks.

Bucky muttered a quiet fuck and you almost don’t hear him. You know you have him where you want him right now, he’s a sucker for having your fingers in his hair.

“I’m sorry I called you old man,” you murmured, your voice dripping with sweetness.

“And?”

“And... and I apologized, James! Now move. Please, please, please,” you begged, your words getting cut off as his pace quickens, his hips thrusting into you as his metal fingers brush against your clit. The coolness of the metal against your warm clit catches you off guard and though it feels good the contrast leaves you gasping.

He smirked, enjoying the way he’s able to get you to beg for him.

"Maybe you shouldn’t call people names, doll, ya ever think of that?”

“I apologized!” You yelled, your frustration growing every minute that he continues to tease you.

“Shh, don’t wanna get caught do you?” He asked, his voice teasing as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss before moving his lips down to your neck.

For a moment you forgot. Forgot that there was a party taking place just down the hall. Forgot that at any minute somebody could come looking for you two. Chewing on your lower lip as his lips work down your neck you struggle to keep your moans to a minimum, but it’s so hard when his lips are working over your sweet spot again, when his hips are picking up the pace again. Everything feels so good and you want to be mad at him, but you can’t. Not when you can feel his hot breath hitting your neck, not when you can feel his hips slamming against you hitting all the right spots, not when his metal fingers are rubbing against your clit.

“Don’t bite your lip. Wanna hear you, wanna hear how good I’m makin’ you feel, doll.”

Whining you release your bottom lip giving him exactly what he wants as moans and gasps and whimpers of pleasure fall from your lips.

“Yeah, that’s it doll. Fuck you sound so pretty moaning my name,” he coaxed, his words making heat rise to your face and neck.

His lips continue to work over your neck, his hips slamming into you hitting that one spot that drives you crazy. You’re getting close, you can feel it, your walls clenching around him as his name tumbles from your lips in breathy moans and gasps, the thought of someone catching you far from your mind again as you give into the intense pleasure he’s providing you with.

“‘M gettin’ close. Come on, cum for me again, I know you can give me one more,” he demanded.

“B-Bucky... oh,” you cried out, your walls tightening around him as your second orgasm rips through your body. Giving a hard tug to his hair you gasp and whimper, struggling to compose yourself. It’s so much more intense than the first one and as Bucky continues to thrust into you you’re not sure how much more you can handle. You’re so sensitive now and just when you think you can’t handle anymore his hips falter, a string of fucks tumbling from his lips as he rides out his orgasm. Instead of pulling out immediately he stays inside of you and once he has his breathing under control he’s peppering your face with kisses and brushing back the sweaty hair from your face.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You’re not sure you can string any kind of sentence together so you nod your head yes. Bucky pulls out of you and you unwrap your legs from around his waist as he gently sets you down. Running a hand through your sweaty hair you attempt to fix it before tugging your dress back down while Bucky removes the condom and pulls his clothes back on.

Faintly you can hear shouting and cheering in the distance. For a moment you’re confused before you remember. New Year’s Eve. Your eyes search for a clock and when you see it’s midnight you walk towards Bucky, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Still upset I took you away from the party?”

“No. I’m glad you did. Are you still upset I called you old man?”

“No, but next time you do it I’m not letting you off so easy, Y/N.”

Laughing you wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you,” you whispered.

His arms tighten around your waist. “I love you too. Happy New Year, doll.”

[sparklingpax]

Tales From Iacon - Part 2: Intentions

A/N: 

-Part one can be found here and I also have a wattpad where I’m posting updates as well as other stories! (user is @/kunixjiro)

-Idk if this was an appropriate title for this part but the idea was that they both had their own intentions and well....you can see how it turned out.

-Sorry if this is badly written (and for any typos, mistakes, weird phrasings, etc)

-Also sorry that this is long af O//O’’

-This part isn’t so fluffy ^^’’ But dw I promise I’ll resolve everything in time....anyway, hopefully nothing got too ooc or anything! Enjoy!! <3

///

It was no secret that Megatronus was a gladiator.

He was not ashamed or afraid to admit his purpose—to kill both beast and bot alike.

For the entertainment of the crowds, and in accordance with Cybertron’s corrupt caste system. 

            Such a life was a choice he’d made long ago, when he rose up from the mines and cast away the life of a meaningless energon miner. With it, he’d cast away a name given to him—a name which held no meaning anyway.

             D-16 was no more—he was Megatronus now.

///

            The wild cheering of the crowds invigorated Megatronus, fueling his drive to utterly mutilate the monster hulking before him. All he could think of was the desire to fight stronger and harder than ever before—to show off his power so he could bask in the glory of the hundreds all around calling his name.

             “Megatronus! Megatronus! Megatronus!”

               The deafening roar of the onlookers filled his audio receptors, causing Megatronus to grin wildly, and the injured monster to bellow in terror. It stumbled forward hastily, only for Megatronus to dodge and deal another blow with his sword. Much to the delight of the crowd, the beast cried out in pain and reared up to attack Megatronus again.

             There was no fear as Megatronus gazed into the black eyes of the beast, lit only with primal rage. They bored into him for only a moment before it shook its head and charged.

             Call my name! Call it louder—shout it to the skies, Cybertronians!  

             He stood in battle stance, breathing hard but not yet tired. Bright lights all around blazed down on his plating, making the grey and burgundy glow as silver and red. His optics were alight with a wild look, as if he knew the battle was over and victory was in his very grasp.

             Megatronus tossed away his shield, gripping the hilt of his sword tighter. He released a savage cry and charged right at the monster. Screams of excitements and fear sounded from every angle as he neared the gaping jaws of his opponent.

             The gladiator swung the sword and neatly sliced off half of the grey tongue that greedily reached out at him. The monster instantly recoiled, writhing in pain. Blue blood sprayed everywhere. The warm, sticky liquid showered Megatronus as he slid the weapon into its holder at his hip.

             He paid no mind to it, for he had known the tongue would bleed the most.

             Megatronus took a running leap off the dirt and landed on the back of the beast. With his own servos, he grabbed its snout and yanked it towards him, bending its neck backwards to injure it further. It tried to swing him off, but Megatronus stabbed his sword into its body. The crowd collectively shrieked with anticipation upon seeing the legs of the monster buckle beneath him.  

             Before it could scream in pain again, he vaulted off its body to the side, twisting its neck with a fatal, sickening crack. There was a brief, abrupt silence while the monster moaned more quietly, attempting to move. It crumpled inward with a low huff.

               A pool of energon gushed out from its wounds, soiling the ground around it as Megatronus backed away to watch it die. He grinned with pure delight—breathing heavily, limbs quivering with exhaustion—at his work. Only seconds later, the beast went totally limp.

               It was done.

             The volume of the crowd was loud enough to sound as if the whole of Cybertron had packed into the small stadium.

              Megatronus was victorious again.

             He felt pride and joy rush through him as he raised his sword and cried out to the masses before him.

              “I AM MEGATRONUS, KING OF THE PITS OF KAON!!!”

             “Megatronus! Megatronus! Megatronus! Megatronus! ”

             “I AM LIVING PROOF THAT ONE DECIDES HIS OWN DESTINY!!”

               Hundreds packed together in the seats raised their servos and shouted as loud as they could, amazed by the skill of the gladiator before them, and filled with inspiration. Megatronus felt something warm in his spark, for he knew Orion was one of the many voices.

               There was no disputing it now, D-16 was truly no more.

///

             Outside the arena’s seating, there was a dimly lit, blue corridor. Various clumps of bots milled around there. Some were making their way out from the seats, conversating excitedly about the fighting, or were making their way back in. Others stayed outside for whatever reason they had. A quiet murmuring filled the space, contrasting greatly from the deafening roar of the arena.

             Orion Pax had his back up against the wall, breathing hard. He tried to steady his breath, attempting to erase the images of the brutal murdering of that beast from his mind.

             He had never seen anything so violent in his whole life.

             Orion couldn’t bear it a second longer, hearing the crowd cheer hungrily for the monster to suffer more, and chanting all the louder for its death. All of it had felt so…wrong. For a second, he had wondered if everyone in there had lost their senses. Surely a society of civilized people wouldn’t bee chanting for the death of a living, breathing creature? Or will it to be tortured?

             And yet…they were.

             He had slipped out to regain himself a little, and decided he’d return to his place when the act was finished. At least, if Orion didn’t watch some of the real fight, he’d see the aftermath. After all, Megatronus had invited Orion as a…somewhat esteemed guest. It was only fair that Orion, too, should raise his voice to cheer his friend on.

              I’m here for Megatronus.

             I’m here because he invited me.

             I’m…here to…support him….

             His stomach turned upon thoughts of what he was doing to the creature at the moment. He heard a loud roar of pain and the noise of the crowd increased greatly. Orion shook his head and slid down to a sitting position.

              I’ll…I’ll wait here until it sounds like it’s over…or else….I just might purge…

///

             “So then, Soundwave,” Megatronus shook hands with the quiet mech and nodded. “I’ll be off. I’m meeting someone now. We can speak again tomorrow, if you like.”

             Soundwave nodded, then turned and left. Megatronus watched him go, interest dancing vaguely in his gaze.  

              What an interesting bot, being so quiet and yet saying so much.

              The gladiator was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion, and it seemed the adrenaline that had pushed him through the fight was finally fading. With a small grunt, Megatronus stumbled and fell against the corridor’s wall for support. To Megatronus’ frustration, his legs were tremoring a little. He let out a sigh, straightening again after a moment with a small wince.  

             I suppose I…expended a bit too much of my energy today…

             He still felt pride and joy in his victory.

             Even still, all my efforts were worth it. I stand alive once more.

             “Good evening, Megatronus!”

             Orion’s voice reached Megatronus before he sighted his friend at the other end of the corridor. Orion picked up pace and jogged down the hall to meet him.

             Megatronus immediately felt his exhaustion dissipate.

             Orion had seen the fight!

             He was eager to know what Orion had thought of it all. He knew it Orion’s first time seeing something as graphic and epic as this.

             But more than that, Megatronus was eager to know what Orion thought of him. Battle brought out his truest form, and that form was Megatronus’ greatest pride. Having somewhat of an ego, Megatronus knew that deep down, all he needed to keep going was some sort of praise.  

             After all, who wouldn’t? Validation is a beautiful thing, especially in one’s own art. 

             “Orion, it brought me much joy to know you could make it tonight!” He and Orion shook servos and greeted one another, then started slowly back up the hall so they could leave the building. Megatronus continued, “How unfortunate you could not have seen me last week, when I, with great fervor, slayed—”

             He paused, sensing Orion tense up next to him and look away.

             Odd.  

             “Never mind. Anyway, you are usually too busy with your studies or your work. How is it that you came tonight?” Orion sighed.

             “My apologies. I hope to be a master archivist one day, and full commitment to my studies is essential for me to reach that goal.” He looked up at the sky speckled with thousands of stars and smiled. Shifting his gaze to Megatronus, who was listening intently, he nodded. “I did get time off tonight, though. I have Alpha Trion to thank for that.”

             Megatronus patted him on the back.

             They continued through the quiet streets of Kaon—well, the backstreets, to be specific. Megatronus knew how ugly the main streets could get with all the crazy bots running around at night. He wanted no part in it tonight as long as Orion was with him.

             And Orion is no fighter.

             “Megatronus, uhm…” Orion’s voice jolted him out of his thoughts. He looked a little nervous. He fiddled with his fingers for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I…I hope you can be patient with me.”

             “What?”

             “You might feel offended.” Orion tried elaborating. Megatronus, however, was not following. “I am only asking that if you are mad, that you don’t take it out on someone else…or that you can understand what my reasoning was.”

             Offended? It made little sense. Yet his friend remained tense, and would not meet his gaze. Megatronus immediately felt guilty. Have I said something wrong?

             “Orion, I do not understand what it is you refer to!” He picked up his pace, trying to think of changing the subject. He so desperately wanted to know about what Orion had thought of his battle with the monster!  

             “About the fight tonight…” Orion’s gaze dropped to the ground and he halted. Megatronus, who had walked a few paces ahead, stopped and turned. Oh, he read my mind. How funny; I was just about to ask!

              “Listen, Orion, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not—”

              “I had to leave halfway through the fight. I…” He slowly lifted his gaze to meet his friend’s. As he’d suspected, the beginnings of frustration had already begun to spark into it. He mustered all his confidence to finish. “I waited in the hall because I couldn’t take anymore of the violence…or the bloodthirsty crowd. It…did not feel right at all.”

              An uncomfortable silence weighed on the pair.

              At last, Megatronus turned away and sighed quietly, breaking the silence. Orion felt guilt and embarrassment to the depths of his spark. He opened his mouth to say more, then thought it better not to. He figured Megatronus would have something to say to him.

             “So…that’s it?” Disappointment was fully evident in his voice, causing Orion’s spark to twist more. Megatronus turned back to his friend and moved closer. His hands were folded behind his back. Orion swallowed.

             My intentions were to be honest, but I fear I have taken an imprudent course of action…

             Orion decided not to voice the thought. Instead, he quietly responded, “Yes.”

             “I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’m…very hurt, Orion.” Megatronus kept his voice level as he gazed into the archivist’s eyes, yet Orion could still hear dejection in its tone.

             He realized he had to fix this.  

             But how? What do I say? Orion Pax, you foolish child!! He scorned himself internally.

             “I am sorry, Megatronus. I understand that words will do no good, but for the moments I was there, your courage in the face of the beast was admirable.” Megatronus looked away. Indignance and annoyance welled up inside him.

              He’s probably making it up.

             “And that is the honest truth.”

             Orion looked earnest.

             He also looked and sounded guilty.

              Is it? Or are you telling me what I want to hear? Why did you come if you knew you couldn’t stand violence and a crowd’s wildness? Orion, you anger me…or rather…

             Megatronus then remembered his friend’s quiet plea for peace and patience beforehand. To lash out at him would wound their friendship forever, and give Orion the wrong impression of Megatronus. All that aside, Megatronus realized he…felt no anger towards his friend. The heated emotions faded, quickly replaced by pangs of rejection.

             …such is my fate, being a lower-caste bot raised in blood, darkness and cold steel. Of course Orion does not find it beautiful, and I should not have forced him to witness such things.

             It seemed they would have to allow time to do its work.

             Megatronus began to walk away, saying nothing more. Orion called after him, but received no reply. His friend disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving Orion feeling guilty and ashamed.

              I won the battle, but I now feel…defeat.

              Megatronus felt exhaustion creep back into his limbs.

///

             On his way out of the city, Orion paid no attention to the tranquil, moonlit nature around him. He was instead lost in thought.

             Had I said nothing, I’d have lied.

             He shook his head.

             I can’t lie. I won’t lie. I know it would have come out eventually, and he would still be hurt. 

             A pang of sadness twisted his spark again. 

             Why couldn’t I bear it even for his sake? It is because I do not understand it that I fear it, I know. But...it is his joy...his art....and I was not there for him.

             As he reached a train station, Orion still did not have any real thoughts in mind as he punched in the location for his ticket.

             When the train arrived, Orion boarded and sat by the window.

             I realize now that my intentions were faulted. It would have been better to stay quiet, becuase then I would not have hurt him.

             He closed his eyes.

             Time will have to heal this wound.

[askthewitchlady]

Tick Tock Tought

@absurdmageart I love your HorrorSwap boys ever since you posted about them, I dunno if you remember I said I wanted to right something for them so I did finally got it done, I hope I did them justice :)

Wandering at a slow pace Papyrus ‘Big’ Snow watched his brother stride with a lot more confidence then he’d had for a while along the path.  They had seen and done a lot of terrible things underground, and when they had finally emerged with the help of the child so many had expected to be hated.  However, while Big understood that some did hate and fear them, the majority of humanity had come together to help them.  Medical care, psychological help, food… stars the food! So much of it! He remembered the first time seeing a grocery store, rows and rows of food, Sans had cried, he’d been so stunned by it so shocked to see so much Papyrus wondered if his brother had almost forgotten what it was like.

That had been a few years ago now and was one of the few things he remembered strongly about their emerging.  Day to day it was hard to really remember things.  It was ok though… well, not really but he had his notebook and his bro to help him so it worked out.  It was a little funny to think the notebook he used to keep in his pocket to jot down ideas for writing had become a way to just remember life in general.  Perusing the notebook last night however, he knew that his brother was really planning a surprise and not just taking him someplace he had forgotten about.

In fact when Sans, or Tiny as he was called by the others at the house, had approached him he had been very excited, almost his old self.  Apparently he and the ‘original’ Papyrus had gone out food shopping and while looking around had found a shop he seemed absolutely certain his younger brother would love.

Big had agreed.  It wasn’t that he was unhappy on the surface but the fact was, he wasn’t the skeleton he used to be, he’d been tired before but it was nothing compared to the depression that weighed on him now.  Sans was always trying so hard to cheer him up, and his notebooks were full of the days Sans had found something for him to do that he enjoyed. 

He did try to do the same for his brother but it was difficult when he couldn’t always remember if he had done something for his brother already.  Not that Sans seemed to mind, he was always delighted when his brother worked up the energy to do something for him.

Papyrus snapped back to himself when he realised Sans had stopped walking and was bouncing on the balls of his feet at an open alleyway.  Now, Papyrus had been doing pretty well adjusting to life on the surface (at least that’s what his therapist said) but there were a few old habits that hadn’t quite died and the nervousness of the small space Sans was waiting by made him pausing.  Noticing the hesitation the smaller skeleton approached his brother, grabbing his hand gently, Papyrus tried not to think about the knicks and divots in his brother's bones.

“It’s ok Pappy it’s only small for a couple feet then it opens up you’ll see I promise.” he assured eyes shining eagerly behind his glasses.  Big missed the way Tiny's eyes went star shaped in his excitement but Papyrus was happy that Sans could be so excited about something so freely.  Papyrus knew his brother wouldn’t do something to scare him, and if he thought whatever was on the other side of this small space was worth it then Papyrus would give it a try.

Sans wasn’t wrong, in fact the little ‘ally’ was more of just an underpass where two older buildings connected.  He could see how it opened up into a sunny cobbled lane. With a couple trees, their gnarled roots spread as much above the cobblestones as below.  It was... charming.  Yeah that was the perfect word for it, charming.  For a moment he felt a blast of inspiration, and all he wanted to do was sit and write, all the little ideas that came to mind is this little secret space.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Sans said encouragingly now Papyrus was through the small space,  the taller skeleton nodded slowly, yeah it was.  It was kind of like stepping back in time almost,  while a lot of this part of town was still very classic in the way it looked. A lot of the beautiful old architecture had been covered by modern facades that were so… cold.  There was so much glass and so many reflective surfaces.  Big didn’t really like it, it just reminded him of what he had become.  There was glass here too, but the shop windows here were smaller, they had artful names on the display windows or from signs that swung gently in  a cooling breeze.  The wood was old and weathered but well kept and he had a feeling the plaster was either replaced or freshly painted recently as everything looked as if it had been built just yesterday.

“We’re almost there, come on, we’ll look at all the shops but I wanna show you this one first.” Sans said, giving Papyrus's hand a gentle squeeze.  He didn’t pull or drag Papyrus like he used to because of how badly he knew his brothers back hurt him so Sans had taken to those gentle but firm squeezes to get Papyrus moving.  There was more? This wasn’t what Sans wanted him to see? But this was amazing, he hadn’t felt this much inspiration in such a long time, what could be better?

The answer came quickly as they made it to the far end of the lane. There was a pretty wrought iron fence painted black that framed a tiny courtyard filled overflowing with flowers planted with no care to how they grew, the thick smell filled the air in a pleasant assault on his senses. Sans stepped forward pushing the door open, the hinges creaked a little and a charming bell rang from above the door frame.  It was a sudden noise but not so loud that it upset the bigger skeleton.

“Hello hello hello, I’m back, miss Human, I brought my brother today.” Sans called.  That was interesting. He hadn't heard his brother call out like that before.  He didn’t have time to question it though as stepping into the shop he stopped dead in his tracks.  It was fantastic,  the shop was an old (very old) antique shop and to his wonder there was a whole wall covered in clocks of all types,  they ticked softly some had pendulums swinging and others had doors that made him think of cuckoo clocks.  He’d never seen so many old clocks.

“Oh Sans, welcome back, you can use my name dear you don’t have to call me Human.”  The voice was soft and easy with a gentle chuckle to it. Papyrus turned to the sound he had sort of expected an old woman, the place had a feel of age and dignity.  Not to say the woman standing in the archway to another room wasn’t dignified, in fact she was quite elegant, but she wasn’t old. It took him a moment to realise while she was looking in his brothers direction she wasn’t fully looking at him.  Another instant and he realised her pale eyes weren’t just a light color she was blind.

“I remember I’m sorry Human! Oh! As I said before I brought my brother, he really loves clocks and from the look on his face when we walked in I think he wants your whole wall of clocks!” he said brightly, the woman chuckled nodding as she walked towards them. She was fairly confident in the way she walked but she would occasionally touch a display case, probably orienting herself in the room. She smiled nodding as she paused once she was closer to his brother.

“Well then you are more then welcome to look at them as much as you like, they are for sale of course.” she said gently tilting her head, she was listening for him. 

“Uh, thank you I appreciate it.” he managed he felt uncomfortable awkwardly, the feeling growing when the woman followed his voice to look in his direction and offered a gentle smile.  He was sort of glad he didn’t have to stress about what she thought of him, his hulking bent form in her tiny shop.  Not being able to see him she only knew him to be a monster, he doubted his brother told her what he looked like.  He watched as she returned her attention to Sans tilting his head slightly trying to get a grasp on the feeling that tickled in his skull. It was a weird feeling, he wasn’t jealous, he’d never be jealous of Sans but he found himself wanting her attention.  Was it because she was blind?  Knowing she’d give him that soft and welcoming smile with nothing behind it because she had no idea?  He couldn’t really be sure.

“I am glad you came back, I received a shipment of some lovely antique almanacs yesterday, would you like to see them before they are out for display?” she asked, Papyrus knew that Sans had really developed a love of reading, but he hadn’t realised the hobby had expanded to be interested in antiques.  He smiled weakly glancing back at the wall of clocks.  There were so many and they were all different. For a moment he closed his eyes and just let the soft sound of them wash over him, he could hear his brother and the woman talking quietly in the other room he felt… safe.  The calm quiet of the shop just gave him a sense of peace  he wanted to write.  To get all these thoughts down and, maybe later if he stayed in this right frame of mind…

He settled right there on the floor, if he moved or tried to find a chair he knew he’d lose the thin thread he had hold on.  Drawing the notepad from his pocket he began scribbling.  His handwriting had suffered but he could still read it so that was good.  He wrote down the feelings being in the shop and the charming lane had invoked.  In the quiet with just the faint murmur of Sans and the Sales woman talking and the gentle scratch of his pencil, Papyrus didn’t realise almost an hour had passed until Sans came to get him.  His brother now had a satchel over his shoulder with, presumably, some books inside and was grinning his braces winking in the soft light.

“You’re welcome back for more books Sans,  Oh your brother can come back to watch the clocks whenever he likes.” the human woman said as Papyrus stood his bones felt creaky and achy but he felt... good.  He had written so much, more than he had in a long time and he felt great.  But he couldn’t quite manage to say so.  His brother however was a step ahead of him.

“I’ll be sure to bring him back,  I’ll want more books.” Tiny said cheerfully as he walked with his brother out of the shop.  Papyrus smiled looking at the notebook in his large hand before looking at Sans who had stopped to beam at him as soon as they were outside.

“So, was that a good surprise or what?” he asked happily, Papyrus smiled softly, the corners of his mouth twitching up gently.  He pocketed the notebook before reaching out gently rubbing the top of Sans head approvingly 

“Did good Bro, I liked it there.” he said quietly, anyone else would have missed the subtle changes in his manner but Sans saw them and he knew that his brother really had enjoyed the shop.  He smiled settling the bag,  tucked amongst the books was a clock he had seen last time he had visited the shop, he fully intended to give it to his brother when they got home.  He had been on the fence about the purchase but seeing how his brother had lit up seeing all the clocks had cemented his decision.

He was glad his little brother had liked the shop, regardless of their sizes and manner Sans was still the big brother and he took Bigs happiness seriously, if something as simple as an old shop with a wall of old clocks could make him so excited then Sans would bring him everyday if he wanted.

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

True to his word, when Papyrus mentioned the shop a few days later with a fresh notebook in hand Sans was happy to take his brother back.  He wanted to show Big the other shops and he told Papyrus that there was a little cafe they could have lunch at as well or they could eat in the courtyard on one of the benches under the tree.  Both ideas were nice and Papyrus agreed without hesitation.  He wanted to write, he wanted to get the pretty images onto paper before they left his skull, though the fact they held firm so far delighted him, usually he had such a struggle with new memories.  

It was earlier when they arrived then last time so the sun wasn’t quite as high giving the lane a look of fantastic shadow that made Papyrus think of mysteries of an old world, foggy cobbled streets, magic and adventure…

A shiver thrilled up his spine and he looked at Sans with a bigger smile

“It’s… coming so fast bro, all these ideas.” he managed Sans smiled nodding happy to let his brother plonk himself down on the bench already scribbling in the open notebook He hadn’t seen his brother so eager and inspired in such a long time, it was so nice.

Knowing Big would be fine on the bench, Sans made his way to the little antique shop and went inside wanting to look at some of the other books the owner had on hand and tell her how much Papyrus had loved the clock he had bought him.

Papyrus wasn’t sure how long he had been writing but when he surfaced from his thoughts he was startled to see the woman from the antique shop sitting on the other end of the bench, hands in her lap face turned up at the dappled light that peaked through the leaves of the tree.  Was it her sitting that had caught his attention.

“Oh uh… can move.” he mumbled glancing around for Sans, he was better at this. He didn't want to bother this woman, she probably hadn’t even known he was there or else she wouldn’t have sat there obviously.

“Hmm?  Oh no you’re ok, it sounded like you were really into your work, you were mumbling to yourself.” she said gently turning her face slightly in his direction, he had been talking?  It occurred to him after a moment that Sans had commented once, that when he was really immersed in an idea he would sometimes say what he was writing.

“Sorry…” he muttered roughly wildly embarrassed, she just shook her head

“Don’t be, it sounds like an interesting story, your brother mentioned you enjoy writing, ‘m glad our little plot of land inspires you so much.” she said warmly.

“Y-yeah, it’s… been awhile since... I mean…” he trailed when something occurred to him “Y-your plot?” he asked kind of curious she nodded slowly

“Mhmm,  all of this space belongs to my family.  It used to be one huge Manor house so I’m told.  It was parted out over time to family members and became our own little block of shops.” she explained softly, he smiled, that was kind of a neat idea.  A nice thought as well, having so much family and being so close?

“S-so all these shops are, uh…  your’s?” he asked.  She shook her head “Not mine specifically but they all belong to a member of my family,  lets see sitting here…  Ok  that shop there, My brother runs it with his son His wife is an executive assistant at our grandfather's company.  The shop next to that belongs to my aunt on my mother's side…”  and so shop by shop she told him about who owned it, a bit about the shop, a bit about the history.  It was really interesting and after a while he had started making notes about what she was telling him.  When was the last time he'd just sat and had a conversation with anyone?

“And you own the antique shop?” he asked when she finished she nodded expression shifting slightly 

“Yes though I suppose at times I don’t really feel like it’s really mine.” she admitted before shaking her head

“Oh! No ignore that, I know I shouldn’t think like that I’m sorry.” she said sheepishly, blushing faintly as she settled her hands in her lap closing her eyes and taking a deep breath 

“‘S ok… I don't mind listening.” he offered, surprising himself as much as her it seemed, by his words.

“Hmm… well, I should preface it by saying I love my family and I know at the end of the day they just worry for me, and for good reason.  I don’t feel like I earned the shop.  I got my degree yes and I work hard to keep it but, I feel sometimes like I only got it because of my condition.  By giving me a shop in our unit family can always keep an eye out for me.  I don’t know if they know how much I love the antiques, how much I’ve learned or if they just gave me the shop because it wasn’t being used at the time and it would keep me close?” she admitted before shaking her head again.

“And I know it’s not fair to anyone to think that way.  Yes they want me safe but if I had pushed I could have gotten a shop someplace else, and I know they only want what's best for me.  I try not to let those thoughts get to me.” she said fingers fidgeting in her lap

“Well, dunno if it matters from a stranger but, sounds t’me like you earned it… if you got the degree, and you're still learnin about it, and you work hard at the shop then… isn’t that what it means to earn somethin?” he offered, he was no stranger to dark and intrusive thoughts and he had to admire how she tried to get past them

“There's nothin wrong with ‘earnin’ somethin after it’s been given to you … I think… ‘s not like you're just passing it off to someone else to manage and sittin around.  You could, and no one would probably mind ‘cause of your ah… uh eyes, but you don’t do that so, seems like you’re earnin’ it… uh, well to me… anyway.” he mumbled trailing off as he lost steam, she was looking well, facing him directly seeming stunned as he had spoken before smiling brightly.

“That's, so true, you’re right and yes I do work hard I am earning it, Sometimes those ugly thoughts poke in but that’s something else I can remember when it gets like that, thank you, ah, it’s Papyrus right?  You’re brother told me.” she said warmly he smiled a bit nodding oh wait she couldn’t

“Yeah, yah, uh there's a couple of us called Papyrus so sometimes people call me, B-big to… I’m uh, well pretty tall.” he said a little nervously

“Oh yeah?  Well unless I meet another Papyrus I think I’ll use your name if that’s alright, oh, unless you prefer big?” she said suddenly considering that he shook his head

“N-nah nah it’s fine I um, I like my name better I just, having a nickname just helps so people don’t get confused.” he muttered magic dusting his skull embarrassment rising, yah he liked the way his name sounded when she said it, Big didn’t sound to bad either but he liked the way she said his name, Papyrus, heh.  

“Where is Sans anyway uh he’s been gone a while.” He said suddenly to cover the silence of him savouring his new friend.

“Oh  He must still be looking at books.  When he first came to the shop the friend he was shopping with had to drag him out, he said something about them needing to get home for the best spaghetti night ever.” she said chuckling softly

“He likes the books I have a lot, I guess it makes a nice change from a lot of what comes out now.” she said musingly as she stood

“Would you like to come see if that’s what’s happened?  I’m sure he’ll surface when you call for him.” she said laughing softly.  Papyrus shifting standing slowly and stretching spine popping.  He’d sort of settled in the bench but it was lower than he was used to and so he'd folded awkwardly into it. It hadn’t been so bad while he was writing and then talking but now he could think without distraction he could feel the aching protest of his joints.

“Oh, That was a sound heh,  you should see my sister in law, she might have something for that.” she said easily gesturing to one of the shops she had told him about before, Holistic medicine?  He shrugged

“Could give it a shot.” he said softly he didn’t really think about it all that often if he was honest he’d gotten so used to the pain,  He didn’t like it but it just… was, and since the few medicines they had tried to give him hadn’t worked.

As expected, Sans was sprawled on the floor in the shop pouring over different books, his eyes shining as he looked over the weathered pages in utter awe.  Papyrus smiled. It was nice to see his bro so immersed, and not worrying about him for a little while.  He appreciated his brother's help obviously but he was glad Sans was comfortable enough with where Papyrus had been to leave him there to get involved in the old books.

“Hey bro.” he called instantly catching Sans’ attention the smaller skeleton shifting scrambling up

“Papy, check it out This book has some of the old monster myths!” he said thrilled looking to the woman hugging the book to his chest

“Is this one one of the ones for sale, I know Queen Toriel would love to see it, I’d love to read it to her, if it’s not for sale could I borrow it?” he asked eagerly not relinquishing his hold on the book as he stared at her.  Papyrus looked to her curiously, she’d been letting Sans look at the books that weren’t for sale?  That was, well really nice.  If they were really antiques and not for sale they must be pretty valuable or rare.

“Actually,  Why don’t you consider it a gift?” she said gently Sans stalled staring at her, 

“What? but, I can pay for it.” he managed, surprised.  He hadn’t been above using his cute looks in the underground for things he really really wanted before things had gotten bad but he’d given all that up, and even if he hadn’t she couldn't even see him, he had.. Why…  Sans felt stuck unsure what to say or do.

“If it has monster stories in it then it must have belonged to monsters at one point right?  You’re my friend Sans, I like it when we talk about books, if you want to share that book with other friends then I want you to do it.  If you really want to pay for it, you can come back and tell me what your friend thought of the stories, how does that sound?” she offered Sans nodded quickly hugging the book so close

“Yes absolutely I will! I will.” he said quickly, looking at Papyrus with awe and delight as if silently saying ‘Did you see that?’  

“Well bro, look at you makin friends all over the place up here too? You’re still the best.” Papyrus said grinning as he rocked back a bit on his heels, hands in his pocket he didn’t feel as tired as usual, today?  It felt like a good day.

[spnsmile]

Title:  Stranger Things

Summary: When Sam and Dean went to hell to look for the Occultum and Castiel went to the Empty and he got results. He was so happy to find Sam and Dean back when he wakes up until—

“You’re an idiot, by the way,” Dean says, a typical greeting. Then there’s the second Dean freed from the wall flirting at him, Castiel thinks he has enough of Dean to deal in one day.   

You will treat Castiel with respect, Huntercorp Dean!

Rating: M

Word Count: 7550

Tags/Warnings: Established Destiel, 15x13 coda, fluff, too much fluff, talks and fluff, established relationship, Huntercorp Dean

Written for the @supernaturalpromptchallenge for April prompt: Health and Well being Prompt 1. Full Recovery & 2: Massage

Enjoy!~~~~~~~~~~~“You’re an idiot, by the way.” 

Castiel grimaces. It's not the greeting he wanted from Dean after his harrowing escape from the Empty. He can still feel the torment of the Shadow, the creeping sadness and regret that coursed through his essence like a river still eerily fresh.

Then there's Dean calling him an ‘idiot' with vigor, which was unfair when they both did something equally dangerous. Dean going to hell wasn’t any smarter but Castiel refrains from waging war. Energy is required for the arduous task of engaging Dean, something which he currently doesn't have at his disposal.

So he ignores Dean. He talks to Sam, concentrates on making them understand his choice at the same time trying to fully recover his strength. It’s not easy to jump back in his vessel right after being in his amorphous form. The sensation of pain cast by the Entity was gone, but the residual effect of his grace rolling through his veins took time. He escapes the Empty and that should be a cause for celebration.

But then there’s Dean breathing down on him like a pissed rhino-bear.

Castiel hates this frying pan and fire scenario where Dean gets to be the fire giving him a real burning sensation in his blood— no, you don’t understand— Castiel can pet a rhino and a bear. He doubts the same approach would work on Dean. Unsurprisingly, pizza works on Dean. He and Jack bought so many for him the last time too. Jack calls Dean the pizzaman these days, but Castiel doesn't have the patience for the pizzaman today.

Distractedly explaining about Ruby and the location of the Occultum artifact gets him some fresh air. But he was still stung by Dean’s greeting, so he gets up when he felt less clammy then demands, “Do you still think I’m an idiot?”

The daggers in Dean’s eyes disappear but the cross features remain. Dean hesitates a moment, then fumes back.

“Well, yeah!” 

Castiel tilts his head. Dean is still angry and murderous. Rhinos are easier to understand. Bears too. He’d still choose Dean though. As he understands, it’s part of Dean’s charm, to be his usual overprotective self not only to Sam nowadays. Castiel by extension and Jack. It takes a second for Dean to become amiable about this whole mess until they all agreed they gotta get down the road now.

Finally, moving in the right direction.

Until Dean tells them his ‘dumb’ idea.

Castiel follows Dean to the corridor while he explains his plan, all the while Castiel is still uncomfortable in his skin. He can't point it but there's a crawling needle prickling at the back of his head. Dean opens the door where they are keeping the Sam and Dean Winchesters stuck on the wall.

It’s not so dumb after all. To make decoys of the alternate universe Winchesters stuck on the wall. Long story short, they need the ingredients for the spell which Sam and Jack are now retrieving from the storage room, leaving Castiel and Dean sitting beside each other with arms crossed.

Nobody spoke for a minute. They watch the ghost of the brothers make dunderheads of each other with routine slaps on the shoulders. Castiel looks at Dean from the corner of his eyes. The jutting outline is magnificent from his view but Dean won't look at him.

"Are we not going to talk about your mini outburst?" he begins slowly, hesitating if it was the right time to ask. In the last couple of months, he tried to move on with a severe connection from Dean after their fallout. He found he can live without Dean but with a shocking revelation that he didn't want to. He's not going to go through that again. Rowena was right about fixing things.

Dean makes a face.

"I dunno, do you?”

"Well, I am the one asking." he points out.

"Right." Dean clicks his tongue, "I dunno, Cas. I mean you sneak around behind me doing your stuff without regard to your being, and then you always expect me to understand it's okay. I know we live a hard life, but one of the things I get jumpy all the time is because I know the people around me are capable of doing the stupid stuff. And I'm not just talking about you, okay?" he clarifies, glaring at Castiel who opens his mouth to argue.

Castiel closes his lips, nodding. He peers closely in Dean's eyes with things getting clearer. It always gets clearer when Dean voices out his concerns. But he stands by his choice.

"I just wanted to help with the mission.”

"I know you do, Cas. But sneaking behind me- what's next? I learn you die?’

Castiel looks away. He can feel Dean's eyes boring on his face but he can't look back. He feels Dean's turmoil now, electric wires vibrating in his skin.

"Sometimes we think it's the right choice. But when we do stuff without thinking of what those around us will feel, about those people we leave behind, that scares me." Dean's voice grows quiet. "Because it's usually me who gets left to deal anyway, and if you don't care about that... nothing I could do but just worry every day, I guess.”

Castiel clasps Dean's arm, heart-wrenching. The tight grasp earns him a surprised gasp, but that's how much he wants to hold Dean. He understands it now, why Dean needs to get angry.

"I'm sorry," he says, feeling hollow. A word that cannot encompass how regretful he is of his choices, and the choices he hasn't revealed. It pained him to think of Dean in the end, but he still couldn't say a word about his deal with the Shadow. But he meets Dean's eyes. Deeply. Sincerely. With all his heart."Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean looks somberly back at him behind the veiled green eyes of pain. Castiel pulls Dean to him and embraces the man, breath hitching. Castiel always finds himself getting drawn over Dean's reasoning. That's how Dean's mind works. How his heart works. Dean's so bright even then.

"S'long as you know." Dean hugs him back, both hands on Castiel's lower back, reeling him in and the tension broke, his body dropping heavily on Castiel like jelly. "I need you safe, Cas.”

But the way Dean sighs, it's like a wish, a prayer unattainable. Castiel wished he could grant it with a whip of his grace. He wants to protect Dean so badly but he can't do anything about the man's deep concerns so all he can do is press a kiss on his cheek.

"You know I always return to you, Dean." he pulls back, smiling at Dean's glistened eyes, brows contorting at the flushed speck of freckles. "How do I comfort you?”

"Give me a massage?”

"Massage?"

Dean nods, blushing, hands still on Castiel's hips. "M'yeah. Took a beating from hell when Jo's lackeys ambushed us. You know how you angels get to make demons your dogs now?”

But Castiel is already running his hands over Dean's cheeks and shoulders.

"Were you hurt? I can heal you.”

"No, you dork. Do you think I didn't notice how sluggy you were back there after your little trip to the Empty?  We still need your grace for Dean 2 over there, I don't want you too tired. By the way, you’ll know the difference between me and that handsome dumbass, right?”

“Of course.” Castiel throws him a frown. “Your duplicates may have a copy of your appearance and soul, but I don't share my profound bond with all other Dean Winchesters out there the way I do with you. I expect this one to be just this… handsome dumbass.”

Dean smiles in satisfaction. The smile that turns upside down when he looks over his shoulder to the brothers giggling for some reason.

“They don’t look too bothered to be stuck on the wall.”

Castiel suppresses another chuckle. He gets his hands on the meat of Dean's shoulder and begins doing the massage routine he often observes humans do. He likes it when Dean looks back at him after a sexy moan. Castiel narrows his eyes at him.

“Believe me, their tolerance of Supernatural is… incredible. Maybe that's one thing they got from the original? The fact that they look very… equable about all this inconvenience in face of danger is just like you and Sam.”

"Ah, fuck, that's good." Dean hums at a very good dig between his shoulder blades. “They can’t feel they’re in a wall? How does that work? Are they only souls now?”

Cas shrugs. “Suspended animation, though,  I doubt they can even see anything pass each other.”

“What about their stupid car?”

“I don’t see it anywhere.”

“You think it’s stuck on another wall?” Dean looks around in alarm with an arched eyebrow.  Castiel smiles at the grumpy expression knowing well Dean’s tastes. He did a compression over the bulky muscles. Dean exhales.

"Cas, you're fucking me.”

"Quiet. Jack can hear us." he orders and Dean clamps his mouth in submission. After a moment, the corners of lips curls mischievously.

"I'm glad you're safe, Cas.”

"I have to. Who else can make you moan like this." he uses a bit of his grace, softening the tight tissues covering Dean's shoulders to his back. Dean gives an out loud grunt with his fingers digging over Castiel's hips. He pulls their hips together and grinds their front. Castiel kisses his moan.

"You sure those idiots can't see us? We're not giving them free porn subscription, right?”

Castiel squints back at the ghosts like Winchesters. The Winchesters on the wall remained in their world,  but Castiel’s attention is no longer on them. Dean is building up some good pressure in their front. He listens carefully to Sam and Jack's footsteps too, it's not something the boy should see yet. He finger-kneads Dean's neck, going as far as the back of his neck. It elicited some satisfying effect on Dean's expression.

Castiel looks down between them. It's not good. At this rate, they will be distracted.

"I'm going to hunt Jo after this. We cannot trust her.”

"Seriously, Cas? You're gonna talk about a random angel while I get my boner on you?”

“I’m just saying, at this late stage, we don’t know whose side she is and that’s dangerous.  Anael is cunning,  Dean. She won't work for us, then she works for against us.” he watches Dean's eyes dip sleepily and smiles. "You like it?”

“Your hand works like magic, babe. I got a bruised elbow and banged hip,  we still kicked their ass though.”

Castiel works his eyes over from Dean’s elbow to his hip with overprotection coursing through his body. He doesn’t see blood and he’s not waiting for it. Jo needs to be reminded about how the Winchesters are under his protection.

“Here,” he adds pressure on his fingers kneading Dean's nape. It elevated the stiffness on Dean's jaw and he's moaning again. Castiel thought he’d never recover from that. "Sexy Winchester." He whispers.

Dean snorts out of nowhere. Their eyes lock softly. Dean looking with an intense fixation on his lips. Castiel can feel Dean wanting to lean down, but he's currently holding the hunter's nape hostage under his expert massaging hands. When he realized he won't be doing any kissing soo, Dean satisfies himself with drinking Castiel's blue eyes.

"Should stop before Samwitch finally decides we need to be stuck on the wall too." he murmurs. Castiel nods but it takes them a full minute to pull away from each other.

Dean steps a little away, shifting on his jeans to do something about his boner. Castiel looks down his front, uses his grace to calm his steamy reaction to Dean. There are always steamy days with Dean in the Bunker. They worked their way over it after their little trip in Purgatory but they've never gone far. Not with all the things happening around them, they don't even have time to breathe.

Dean clears his throat after a moment, then jumps to a change of subject.

“Sam is hideous with the John Snow bun, what is the thinking? And my guy in the flashy  jacket too ‘yellowy’ if you ask me.”

Castiel is glad for the quick save. “I agree with the contrast in nature so you shouldn’t be worried about your close friends being unable to tell the difference.  The flashy jacket is an indication enough. Although it does compliment the color of your eyes.” He does think of that deeply, more than he cares to admit.

He finds Dean eyeing him thoughtfully.

“You think that awful color brings out the color of my eyes? Do you think I should wear that? I’d rather kill myself if someone made me wear that.”

“Let’s not give out points of weakness.” Castiel frowns.  “He doesn’t dress that bad for a human.”

“Wow, Cas? Are you gonna jump sides when he comes out? Got another guy to lay the profound bond?” Dean teases lightly.

“Now you’re being an idiot.”

“Hey!”

“No matter how much you look like, he'll never be you and you will never be him. Just like how Jimmy is not the same as me even when we share the same vessel. And you don't need bright colors to bring out how much you shine,  Dean. You are too bright enough on your own for me.”

He doesn't expect Dean bumping his shoulder with his own, grinning from ear to ear. Butterflies tumble inside his stomach is what he would explain his sudden blush. DEan can make him lose it time and again, but not when he's so happy like this. Castiel can live with Dean just smiling like this every day.

“When did you learn how to suck up, Cas?”

“I don't do suck up, I don't understand suck up. And I was saying the truth, Dean.” 

“Sounds like mighty sucking if you ask me, or is it because you like me?”

Castiel doesn't answer. There's something inside him that wants to burst from happiness, but at the same time, freezes him every time he does. The crawling feeling is back again and he crosses his arms so Dean won't notice.

Dean did. He steps closer.

"What's wrong?”

"Nothing." no, it's not 'nothing'. He suddenly feels cold. The claws of torment from the Empty is gripping him, closing on his throat tight. He's sure Dean can see it, though he doesn't know how. Maybe his bond with Dean has intensified over the years.

"Cas, Tell me, okay? What's wrong?”

He meets Dean's eyes again, feeling Dean is allowed this much truth at least when Dean has shown him the same vulnerability just now.

"I was just... I don't do overthinking as much as you humans tend to do but, I suddenly had this bad feeling from the Empty. Like it's sucking me back, literal sucking Dean." he gulps with a sigh. Dean's gentle palm touches his cheeks.

Green eyes are frighteningly bright, brighter than the sun. And Dean's smiling so confidently, Castiel feels all the darkness in his heart melts away.

“Heh. Stop worrying about it, Cas. Don't think we won't find a way to get you out there. I won't let that happen."

And Castiel believes him. Believes in Sam and Dean Winchester, the men who broke doors from heaven, hell, Purgatory and alternate universes… of course. Being just who they are. It's strange how Dean can calm him. It's stranger because all his worries just vanish like Dean is the answer to his own prayers. But stranger things have happened like how he just wants to kiss Dean over again. The Empty doesn't nag even then, maybe because he still worries for Dean at the back of his mind.

Even worrying for Dean if the Empty does come. It's all strange, this thing between them.

Castiel smiles, Dean's confidence flowing to him. Strange how Dean is like his angel. "Thank you, Dean.”

Dean beams.

"Any time. But if you wanna return the favor, just comfort me how my double self can wear all that fabric?" Dea nods at the wall. He is always good at dodging and dropping cheesy stuff. So they're back at the 'wardrobe' critiquing.

They run their eyes on the material. Dean tucking his arms closer as if it pains him on many levels. “Ugh. How can he run with all that fabric?”

“Run from who?”

“It’s a given I’m always being chased whatever universe I am in, okay?”Castiel stares at him at loss. Dean stares back then rolls his eyes when he realized Castiel didn’t get it. Arms violently untangling from his chest, he points at his face.

“Oh, come on! This face, really?”

Confused, Castiel shakes his head wordlessly.

“Good thing you're hot, Cas, and I like your coat too." Dean drops it.

“I like my coat. Physical appearance remains a concept to angels, Dean. We don't find value in what the naked eyes can see.” he looks from Dean to the other Dean. “But I'm sure Chuck will see the difference. He is ’god’.”

“You think it’s a dumb idea too?”

“No, I think it’s unnecessary.” Castiel admits, “but it hardly matters now, we are going to release them from this wall one way or another.”

“What are you going to do if you’re the one stuck on the wall?” Dean grins. “I’d do the same thing.” The watch the brothers play rock paper scissors again. Castiel squints with a hint of amusement.

“I believe you.”

“You do?” Dean plasters a smile, Castiel can’t help staring at his lips for a moment before turning back to the wall.“Yeah, as long as you don’t blast the wall when you go do the rescues stuff, maybe I should worry.” Dean smiles goofily at him, nudging his shoulder. He leans too close, his breath against Castiel's skin. “Don’t blast the wall. I'll lose it, I tell you. Cause that's hot. I like it when you're badass.”

Castiel flushes, but he swallows down his answer when Jack and Sam return, carrying ingredients for the spell. Sam asks for his grace which Castiel quickly hands over by the table. Sam is talking but Castiel can only glare at Dean. He pulls away when Sam calls his name, doing so gives him a closer look at the wall where the other Dean now is inspecting the wall with round eyes.

It's strange how he can look at Dean's face and not feel the same thing. He shoots his Dean a look and there's that warm fuzzy feeling by only looking at Dean's creased brows. Castiel looks back at the other Dean. The round eyes and smooth expression. He doesn't feel a thing. .So strange... This Dean

If his Dean staring back at him with no recognition in his eyes, it would devastate him. He finds himself glancing back to his Dean with longing. Dean seems to catch on when Castiel returns to his side.

Dean gives him questioning look bordering to concern. Castiel just nods and together, they watch as Sam finalizes the spell and move back. Jack stands beside Castiel with a worried expression. Jack has learned the art of expression.

Quietly, they watch the simmering white smoke of the angel's grace erupt from the bowl followed by a blinding flash of light.

When Castiel opens his eyes next, he is staring at the living breathing forms of the Winchester brothers looking back, struck at their copies staring right back at them.

"This is..." Jack starts, blinking in awe.

"Strange." Castiel finishes for him.

There’s a beat when nobody breathes. Until the other Dean grins from ear to ear like he hasn’t just been peeled from the wall unceremoniously. He double-takes and points at Castiel’s Dean. 

“Now that’s something worthy of my memoir.” he breathes in excitement.

Dean face screws, Castiel’s too.  “You have a mem-what?”

This Dean flashes a boyish grin that struck Castiel. It holds no features of Dean’s distinctive nature, no mood, no heaviness, no lines of pain on his smooth face whatsoever. It struck Castiel just how much the two Dean’s are unalike. And he won’t begin with the bright souls. They are similar in structure, but different in weight at the same time and he’s glad he can tell.

The weight on his Dean the one he’s bonded to draws him with open gravitation.

“Uhmm…” says the singsong voice of Dean’s alternate. “This is hard to swallow.  Would you give me your best whiskey I need a break and a good bath and a good bed.”

Castiel rolls his eyes.  Dean’s eyes bore on his doppelganger too,  and a tiniest forced smile appears on his lips.

 “I bet it is. And no. Not until you grant us a little favor.”

The alternate Sam Winchester looks around with open palms.  “Sure,  I mean we know you have lots of questions-”

“Oh yeah,  like how you two were able to open a rift on your own,” Sam says fixing his doppelganger a look.

“No one’s going to get me a whiskey?” The alternate Dean’s eye falls on Castiel’s way and he cringed at the evidence that he saw.  He can tell with just a glance now,  deep into that soul, this is not the real Dean.

The green eyes linger at him for a moment,  then looked back distractedly when his own alternate brother spoke.

“Maybe we can do this with proper accommodation? I mean,  we don’t mean to impose-”

“Oh,  you wouldn’t.” Dean shakes his head,  “We have jobs for you.”

“A…  job…” Alternate Sam’s voice falters, line appearing on his forehead where his hair is tightly pulled back.  Sam furrows his own brows,  glancing at Dean uncertainly. 

“So are we just gonna stand here or what?” Dean asks a little impatiently. He nods at the door to indicate where to go. The alternate universe Winchesters exchange a look before man bun Sam turns to Dean.

“Just a little curious and an answer to your- my other versions query.  We opened a rift using high technology science and supernova power from the collapsing world. We know by theory it is possible when something godlike is present in our world.  We know Apocalypse was coming and been prepared for so long… Now,  I’d like to know how you got us out from there?” he points delicate hands on the wall behind him. “That kind of spell must need some kind of celestial energy.?

“Uh, yes. Cas got that covered for us.” Sam answers,  nodding over Castiel who primly sets into his reset mode as the eyes fall on him. Other Dean gives him a once over,  his mouth dropping open.

“The guy in the trench coat helped you, how?” the other Sam asks skeptically.  “Cas is an angel.” Jack promptly answers,   “Well, Dean’s guardian angel.”

Dean and alternate Dean exchanges a look this time.  Dean’s eyes narrow as the alternate Dean stares at him and then Castiel.

“Got a problem?”

“You have your own angel?”

“Yeah, it’s my kind of thing.  I’m guessing you don’t?”

“No,” alternate Sam responds while alternate Dean sneaks a look at Castiel,  his eyes full of wonder, “Angels are different, we only work with them when necessary. They get in touch with us when something that concerns civilians is involved.”

“You work for them?” Sam says in disbelief.

“With them.” Alternate Dean continues, glancing over Castiel again, “So maybe we can do this all over again somewhere comfortable with couch and whiskey,  what do you say?” he throws a look at Castiel now,  addressing him like they’ve known each other for years.  “Wanna get me the whiskey, angel?”

Castiel chews his tongue. He glares not only at the alternate Dean but even to his own Dean who’s already frowning at his doppelganger.

“I apologize,  I do not handle Dean’s liquor beverages,  you have to ask permission from him to get one.  And…” blue eyes flash. He makes sure he’s looking straight at the soul of the carbon copy he does not recognize. “I’m a guardian angel, not your servant. I can easily throw you back on the wall so…you will treat me with respect.” he enunciates the words clearly, the way he did when he said it to Dean. He deliberately catches the real Dean’s eyes somehow gets unreadable.

Alternate Dean just breathes,  or wheezes as he steps back.  Satisfied, Castiel pushes Jack out of the room after giving Sam and Dean mutual nods.

They are already in the middle of the corridor when he heard the gushing voice of the alternate Dean trembling in excitement. “Did he just flirt with me?  Did you see how his eyes  just felt so intense on mine?”

“No.” Dean growls.

Castiel doesn’t hear from the Winchester and Winchester for the next twenty minutes.  He knows they are in the War room, he can hear them all the way from the kitchen where he and Jack sit down, listening. Well, Jack is eating the pizzas again, but listening saves him time and effort of asking Sam and Dean later.  Ten minutes of exchange from the Winchesters and he becomes thoughtful.

He doesn’t question the authenticity of the story but it surprised him to find John Winchester was supposed to be in this world as well. He can hear Dean’s heartbeat when he closes his eyes. Shock beyond measure, but nothing to the knowledge that the John Winchester of the other world used all his assets to build a giant corporation. Unlike Dean's father who exhausted all means to seek revenge.

Which is more like Dean, to be honest. Castiel doesn't ponder on the thought of Dean being too much like his father. Dean has moved on it over years ago. Has become the better version of his father.

When they finish, Castiel hears them move to the inner corridors to get a change of clothes. Castiel focuses on Jack then, conversing on the next step after getting the Occultum.

The plan was to be there around nightfall.  They know it’s not the best hour to hunt for an important object, but they cannot delay any longer. Anael has made it clear she is their enemy. Just thinking about how she had Sam and Dean risk their lives makes him want to hunt her just on principle. 

Then again, it can also be just Anael's angel instinct to protect Heaven's artifact. Castiel knows if anyone asked him about it, he would also protect it without question, just like what he did with the tablet. Though, he would likely be trusting Dean more than anyone.

Ten minutes and Jack goes to his own room,  leaving Castiel to follow Dean’s whereabouts.  He can feel Dean's link in the garage with Sam. Their conversation is very personal but he wanted to be there for Dean. He makes his way along the corridor when at the turn, he gasps when he nearly collided with Dean- not his Dean- but a Dean in his Dean's red flannel.

The lazy petting on the fringes of the hair is also telling. This is the Huntercorp Dean.

“Angel,” Dean breathes out, eyes shining in excitement again.

Castiel takes a step back, uncomfortable with their proximity. Gone here was the pattern of Dean jumping away whenever he drops by to visit. He doesn't mind the 'angel', but his auto mode slips an answer distracted by the fact that the red flannel only makes him real.

“My name is Castiel. And you’re wearing Dean’s lumberjack.”

“What, oh this? I know.  Horrible right?”  

Castiel’s expression closes. Huntercorp Dean seems to realize it’s the wrong thing to say. It’s one thing for Cas to comment on Dean’s choice of wardrobe. It’s another when another person makes a mockery of his friend’s casual dress he’s grown fond of no matter his previous jives.

“You will only wear it after a couple of hours.  Once we return,  I will personally retrieve it from your possession.”

Huntercorp Dean flushes. It's a kind of his Dean’s embarrassed look when he gets discovered about his porn and preference to adorable rabbits.

He gets distracted by how this Dean keeps swallowing every time their eyes make contact,  even steps closer on purpose. He doesn’t know what to make of that.  His first meeting with his Dean back in hell was violent. It doesn’t change when they first laid eyes on each other’s physical form.

And this reminded Castiel again,  this is not his Dean.

Huntercorp looks him up and down looking giddy,  cheeks flushing with green eyes almost glassy Castiel can see his own image reflected on them.

“That’s so cool,  angel Castiel? Hebrew for the angel of Thursday,  huh? I know all the names of angels back home,  I’ve got a good memory and I learn fast. My dad used to praise me,  y’know. Best hunter he’s seen since his days.”

Castiel doesn’t mention how he heard the story. The surprise timber of the voice of his friends upon the discovery of Hunter Corp and John Winchester being a perfect father. Perhaps a little too much of a perfectionist.

“So uh…” Hunter Corp Dean looks down his feet looking sheepish,  “I’d know immediately who you are,  except there’s no Castiel in my world.  I don’t have a Castiel back there. Why don’t I have a guardian angel?” he asks like the typical child looking for his Christmas present.  With a pout.

“I have no idea, but I need to be somewhere so if you can move aside,  I need to be on my way.” he makes to slip pass hunter corp Dean but like his original born from the training of one John Winchester, his reflexes are commendable. He grabs Cas' arm,  then let's go like he's burnt when the angel glares at the touch.

“I’m sorry, Castiel, s-stop getting mad." he looks strangely tensed, like a younger version of Dean some ten years ago. "I uh, I don't want you made at me, okay?

Clearly the opposite of Dean's younger version who's done nothing but to piss him and push him to the edge. That Dean now who happens to belong to him now. Dean has always belonged to him from the beginning. He claimed Dean. .His Dean

This stranger is never his. Not for him to claim. He does wonder what happened to his own version unable to meet Dean Winchester. May still be the upright angel that he is... what pity... and to those Deans who also have not met him? Well, this one appears to be okay. A little shallow, but... okay.

Huntercorps Dean swallows. "Uh...about what happened back there…sorry. I got the wrong impression when he said you’re his guardian angel.”

“Apparently.” Apologizing not an hour after the first meeting? Castiel smiles remembering Dean's snarky attitude towards his own version, but it might be because of the old stick up his ass.

Huntercorp Dean sighs at the smile not meant for him. His shoulders lose an amount of tension, “So uh… are we okay now? Are you still mad at me? Are angels really supposed to get mad? Back in my universe they just come and go,  reporting orders from the attic, you know? So um…  are you, you know…  mad?”

“I’m not mad at you. But I am in a hurry,  so if this is what you need to apologize about, I sincerely accept it. Now I have to go to the weaponry room and you’re still on my way.” He points out drily. Hunter corp Dean snaps from the trance of ogling at Castiel.

“Oh. Uh…  sure, I’ll go with you.” 

It wasn’t exactly an invitation but Castiel has no reason to stop him. Now he has to change his route.

The Dean moves aside, making Castiel glare a little as he walks past him. The Dean follows him shortly,  steps lighter than the original. That eases Castiel.  At least he can hear and understand the difference.  He leads him down the narrow corridor,  his attention drifting to Dean back in the garage. He has to shut his eyes again when for the third time,  he hears Hunter corp Dean clear his throat.

“Yes?” he looks sideways for a second.

“So uh…  Dean kinda lucked out on everything else except for you,  huh? I mean,  I get it, I respect his trade.  The guy does charity work saving people on this side and he has an exclusive…  somewhat top-secret venue for the operation.  So he doesn’t get paid and he’s got issues with his dad from our conversation a little while ago-”

He lets hunter corp Dean talk. His Dean likes to talk about the most mundane thing,  but rarely about his father. This is not his Dean.

Stopping at the door, Huntercorp Dean goes on with the ramble until he clamps his mouth at the angel’s glare.

“Stay here.”

“Aw,  c’mon Castiel. We’re a team now,  you know? I got Dean’s layers of thin material for clothes, I’m not going to betray my own face.”

“You’re not him.”

“I am pretending to be him,  can’t you think of me as your extended charge too?  I’m also Dean Winchester.”

“No.” Castiel says without a hitch. It’s the calmest “no” he’s said for the day,  this morning’s encounter with Dean and his golden theories about pirates topping his chart of “no,  Deans.”

“Ow,  you hurt my feelings,  Castiel.’

Castiel narrows his eyes. "How? You and I have nothing. Dean and I have a more profound bond.” He was not supposed to say it,  but it makes him proud to do so anyway. A full second of Hunter corp Dean just blinking at him in surprise. He even looks like he swallowed a bullfrog.

“P-profound bond you mean…?”

"I chose Dean and he chose me. We're together." he feels tired more than he should about the subject.

"Really?” his eyes dilate. "Like you too really do things... and you know things?! Him and an angel?

Castiel grimaces. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.” Turning the knob, he enters, but not after the gasp that was so his Dean when he watches Doctor Sexy.

Hunter corp Dean follows him to the table where Castiel rolls the rifle on both palms. This Dean shifts on his feet like an impatient cat ready to pounce.  He can’t help reading him from how Dean does his nonverbals, but he’s an expert when it comes to Dean Winchester.

He squints a little,  unable to read this though, or perhaps it’s his own uncertainty that is frustrating him. He tries to pacify the little annoyance blossoming entirely out of nowhere and for unknown reasons in his being.  This Dean has done nothing to him. Why is he averse to the man who only looked like his friend?  Is it because they don’t have the bond?  Or because he is a complete stranger to him as the next newborn baby prophet he knows by name?

“So you guys have that kind of relationship, huh?”

“It’s a special kind.” He admits kindly.

“Ah…  that’s why he looked about to eat me every time I mention you.  I mean, I get it.  You kinda struck me the first time I laid eyes on you too. Kinda makes me jealous he’s got a special someone out there. It’s not so bad even without my usual glamour.”Castiel checks the bullets quietly.

“That looks dangerous.” Dean says,  “Your mission that dangerous even an angel needs a shotgun?”

“I don’t. I have my angel blade. This is for Dean. He’s distracted enough to just remember his handgun.  I’m making sure he doesn’t run out of full barrel count.”

“You do that for him?  I thought you said you’re not a servant?”

Castiel clamps the barrel in one snap,  then eyes this Dean coldly.

“I am not his servant.  I am his best friend and I do this on my own accord.”

“Does your Dean clean your angel blade too?”

“He has his own angel blade,  he doesn’t need to clean mine.”

“Do you do whatever he asks?” comes the uncertain question with a hard swallow.

“Of course.  Unless it is stupid, that’s when I take control.”

This Dean openly gawks at him now like he couldn’t believe his ears. Castiel locks the safety pin and tries it to make sure it’s clasped properly. He will bring extra rounds too,  for safety precaution.

Eyes bore on him.  The green eyes now slowly becoming familiar. Huntercorp Dean shakes his head.

“Oh man,  if he doesn't come back someday,  you’re free to call me anytime.”

Castiel slams the bullet back on the table so fast everything seems to spin. His quick hand snatches the red collar and in one twist he and huntercorp Dean are eye to eye with a hair strand difference.

"We're not talking about this." He hisses, voice laced with iciness. “You are not going to speak about Dean like that again.” Green eyes remain round, a flash of fear and shock battling on his expression.

"”Okay chill, Castiel,  I was just joking!

“Keep the irony to yourself.” Castiel’s jaw clenches. 

“I get it, alright! ” Hunter corp Dean touches his wrist, “I’m sorry,  it was just on the spur of the moment-I dunno, I was jealous okay? I thought you’d like me too,  you brought me alone in a room!  Now, I get it,  you want him. Not me. It’s capisce!”

“You capisce?” Castiel tilts his head in question.

“Yeah,  I capisce. Please let go.  I kinda like you, okay?”

Castiel sees a shadow from the corner of his eyes he sharply looks up to find Dean standing by the door with a box on his arms.  Castiel’s grip slackens. His Dean looks surprised for a few seconds, turn to controlled rage where his enemies should start running until everything disappears to nothing.

“Dean.” Castiel starts.

“Everything alright here? Cas?” Dean asks stiffly, putting the box down the floor and keeping his murderous eyes on Hunter corp Dean who flinches at the hard stare.

“We uh…  we were preparing your shotgun for uh… the mission and uh…” he says lamely.

Dean steps closer,  his broad body blocking the way of escape, eyebrows hiking up.

“You don’t need to feel like you need to defend yourself here in the Bunker.  It’s the safest place on earth.”

Huntercorp Dean forces a smile.

“Somehow,  I doubt that.” He gulps when Dean doesn’t stop staring.  “You always look at the guy you asked for a favor like you’re about to skin him alive?”

“Maybe.” Dean crosses his arms and shrugs. “But I don’t do favors. Your brother’s looking for you.  My Sam wants to pull the man bun,  you ought to be there for support.”

“Believe me,  I’d gladly pull the bun too.”

Dean smiles an empty one that turns into a scowl. “Now can I get back my angel?

Castiel who feels neglected for not being shown any attention gazes at Dean wide eyed and red. Huntercorp Dean sighs like he knows he just escaped death and so glad to be alive.

“See yah. You too, Castiel. And you guys can take it slow here, yeah? I’ll make sure the Sams behave too!” he winks at Dean whose face crumples in confusion. They waited for him to disappear before their eyes bore at each other. 

“I knew you were gonna sneak around.” Dean teases him, taking the box from the floor and heaving it up.  He finds Castiel with his deadpan expression already standing before him with only the box between them.

“I don’t sneak around Dean.”

“Yeah?  Getting that sexy ass here alone with you isn’t, huh?” he steps aside to put the box on a higher shelf. Castiel pulls it from his hands and easily lifts it at the top pile before rounding on Dean,  finally getting his whole attention.

“You call yourself sexy?” he asks in disbelief.

“Eyes on the beholder, remember? Same. Reaction when I saw my future self back in 2014. I was hot as fuck, your old self there would’ve agreed.”

“What was I like there?  You never told me.”

Dean opens his mouth,  then stops. There’s a brief look of worry on his face but then-

“What were you thinking holing up with him here? No one ever told you how dangerous it is to be with a hot Dean Winchester in a room with four walls and only one way out?” He licks his lips, gazing down the angel’s plump ones. Castiel smiles.

“I agree.  I do feel in danger now.”

Dean laughs out loud,  his arms falling on his side with his stony features disappearing. Castiel sighs in relief, glad there wasn’t any breaking or fight between them this time. Not when they’re about to do something dangerous under Chuck’s nose.

“Just don’t put yourself in danger like this again.” Dean sounds like he’s scolding him with that finger pointing up. He doesn’t look strained at all which could only mean one thing.

Dean trusts him.

Unable to control his emotions, Castiel reaches his right palm behind Dean’s neck, then drags the man’s head down close to his and kisses him gently. Dean’s lips are always moist,  always soft maybe because of Dean’s habit of always biting them temptingly.  

Castiel moans when Dean draws him closer, hands going around his waist. Running his palms on each aide of the angel,  Dean pulls back little, green eyes as expressive as ever.

The very eyes Castiel fought for so many years.

“We have an Occultum to catch,  Cas.  Stop being so distracting,  what’s gotten in to you?  I thought angels always prioritize mission?” he nudges his nose on the angels.

“I am. Doing prioritizing.” Castiel follows Dean’s lips with his eyes then dips in for a brush on the pair of red. “I made it a goal to kiss you when I see you ever since we let them out of the wall.”

“Why?” Dean sounds concerned again,  which Castiel loves about him as long as it doesn’t bite on his every risky decision. Then again,  when has Dean ever done anything he asks too?

“I'm not sure. I just want to make sure I don’t lose the way you look at me. The way you take care of me… the way you make me feel like this…”

Dean smiles and presses a kiss on his forehead. 

“Didn’t you see how my love reaches to an alternate self of mine?  Didn’t you see how he’s very smitten with you?”

“Yes,  but he’s not you.  It doesn’t matter how many alternate Deans you have, they won’t have what we have.”

“Lemme guess, our profound bond?”

“My heart.”Castiel grabs Dean and kisses him thoroughly.

Dean lets him take control,  leaving his lips into submission as Castiel ravishes his mouth. Castiel kisses his open mouth, letting his tongue roll in and out,  taking its time exploring the insides of Dean he knows too well. He meets the tongue, earning him a moan when he starts to gently suck-but then he stops.

He looks into Dean’s flushed face, so happy to know he is the reason. They mutually nod to end it there even when their hips don’t stop grinding at each other,  arms still wrapped behind each other’s back. Dean is speechless for a while.  He keeps his eyes on Castiel.

"How did I get lucky to get you, Cas? Because I’m still not convinced I deserve-”

Gentle forefinger presses on the wet lips. Castiel had a hard time removing his eyes from there.

“Shh. You don't need good fortune to be with me, Dean. We just need to be together.”

“Dean!” Sam calls from the corridor. “Dammit,  you guys better be decent there!”

“Shut up! We’re gonna be back in a second!”

“I’m counting! You know we have a treasure to find!”

“Yeah yeah!” Dean whirls to Castiel again,  eyes determined. “We all come back here tonight you and me in my room?”

Castiel’s heart pummels up.  This is the part he and Dean haven’t explored yet.  He touches Dean’s cheek lightly and nods willingly.

“Oh. I can show you just how lucky you are.”

Dean suddenly chortles nervously.

“Damn… this feels like we're doing honeymoon before the marriage.”

“Because you never ask, Dean.”

“Not like we have a place to tie our knots appearing right before our eyes.”

Hours later there is the church. Dean and Cas stare at each other,  makes out a little while Sam groans by the door, then find themselves horrified at finding Jack choking with hands on his throat.

The Nephilim had swallowed the Occultum.

They recover Jack after a good five minutes with that bright ball of light. The boy was silent a lot the whole ride home. Castiel and Dean communicate silently from the rearview mirror, Dean asking if Jack is okay. Castiel nods, having checked the boy whose body stay healthy and strong.

And that’s what matters to Dean. Jack is healthy even when he looks morose. Another hour passes and the new informally wedded husbands just get the biggest surprise of their lives.

Jack has recovered his soul. 

[ajokeformur-ray]

Face it all together // J x Lilith // Lilac lovin’s <3

I’m dedicating this piece to the angel @jokershyena. I love you so much dear, and I hope that this comforts you in even the tiniest of ways.

Fully personalised with permission - I checked in at every turn so I’m hoping the final result is close enough.

Summary: your BPD is flaring up and you need J to just… be there for you. You think he’ll be annoyed, that you’re bothering him or worse disappointing him. But you’re not. You’re making him proud every single second of every single day. And he takes the time to tell you, show you, in his own chaotic, adorably grumpy way.

TW: swearing, J’s brutally honest but it’s cute so who cares, mentions of mental illnesses flaring up and other heavy feelings related to that.

Mental illnesses mentioned: BPD, anxiety, some depression.

Word count: 1, 332.

(Captured below is J @ you over your shoulder every day, doll. Don’t’cha ever forget how much he loves you, okay?)

You had woken up feeling upset. 

Worse still, within less than five minutes of opening your eyes had you been crying in earnest, your entire body wracking with anguished sobs. Your tears fell hot and fast, rolling sideways off your cheeks and dripping into your ear, your hair, dampening your cheeks and somehow did you only feel worse for every second that you lay there, visibly shaken and upset by the demons within your head.

You hated this. You hated it so much. You just wanted one morning where you didn’t wake up feeling like shit, where you didn’t wake up feeling like you were a burden before you had even gotten out of bed. You needed to draw, to write, to study... on and on and on did the responsibilities and duties go. You were so tired, so tired, running on very little sleep and energy drinks just to stay awake long enough to do all that had to be done, all that you told yourself had to be done... It was exhausting doing all of this as well as fighting yourself all the time.

You sniffled and rolled over, pulling the duvet up and over your head so that you were completely surrounded by warmth, by the darkness which was reflected within your own mind... but your thoughts were still there. They were getting exponentially louder with every passing second. You swallowed thickly and then choked on a sob which ripped its way past your clamped lips without warning. You gave into it, quivering but so badly fighting yourself for even a semblance of control and you really just needed someone to - 

Two impatient fingers hooked into the top of duvet and pulled it down. J’s face was set in stone, his jaw muscles ticking as he gazed down at you. He looked angry, but you knew J better than that: He was concerned. There was no grace, no finesse in his movements, and before the chill of the bedroom fully reached you was J climbing over you to get to the other side of the bed, so important were you to he. J sighed quietly and then all you saw was a flash of green, as a series of over-exaggerated and dramatic grunts made it known to you that J was only doing this to try to make you smile. 

After a brief period of deliberately bouncing around on the mattress to get ‘comfortable’, he got beneath the duvet with you with some enthusiastic tugs to get you to relinquish your firm grip on it.. J left the top corner folded over so that he could see you in the scant daylight seeping through the gaps in your curtains. Your tear stained cheeks, your red rimmed eyes, the utter devastation and exhaustion written all over your face. Oh, but you looked so pretty in your pain.

“Oh, Lil,” J sighed wearily as he got comfortable on his side, facing you. A hand found yours beneath the duvet and J’s fingers interlocked with yours as the smell of greasepaint, gunpowder and gasoline but also something distinctly J filled your senses, instantly grounding you and capturing you in the moment. “What’s eatin’ at’ya?”

You sniffled as another course of tears ran down your face and J grumbled, his dark brows knitted together as he raised his other hand to wipe your tears away. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his intense chocolate gaze warm. You were his hyena, his, and anything less than a smile on your face was catastrophic.

“I don’t feel good, J. I never feel good... I’m a handful because of what I have and I feel like a burden so I always apologise and then it’s like I’m a disappointment... and I’m tired, I can’t sleep, I - “

Your breath hitched and you choked on another sob. J wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you closer to him, his arm tightening over you. You took the opportunity to tuck your face into his green waistcoat, your trembling fingers hooking into his braces to keep him close to you. 

“Shush, shush, shush,” J’s gentle mocking made you smile even through your difficulty in breathing, so hard were you crying, and J brought as close into you as he could, one hand threaded in your hair and the other tracing up and down your back in smoothing motions; fluid, strong, just like the man himself. “Look, listen, doll,” J sighed wearily, the exhalation tickling the smaller hairs atop your head and making you wrinkle your nose as you resisted the urge to scratch. “Having what you’ve got isn’t easy. And no matter how many times people say they accept and support ya...they don’t.”

J’s brutal honesty was something you had always adored about him, but right now you weren’t entirely sure it was what you wanted to hear. “What? J - “ You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, to look up at him in disbelief, but J held fast.

“Ah-ta-ta, listen. It ain’t easy. The world will only make it worse for ya. People will turn and abandon ya because they don’t wanna feel the need to care. And that’s how the world is. But, there are a few who’ll stay...like mua~. There’s nothing you can do to please the world, so...as a wise hyena once told me: fuck the world.”

“Do I... do I please you, J?” At his high pitched giggling did you curse your poor choice of words, “Well, yeah, okay, that too, but - don’t I annoy you? I’m always asking for reassurance and I feel like a burd - “

“That better have been a bad joke, Lil.”

You shook your head, your leg hooking around J’s hips as you tried to pull yourself even closer to the man who had your entire heart, your whole being. You had known each other for so long, twelve years, but it was only in the last few years that you had grown to become this, the Joker and his hyena. The hyena and her Joker. In moments like this did you most want to climb inside him, to become one with him, and J huffed a laugh as he allowed you to merge your lower bodies together. Truthfully did he want you as much as you wanted him. He craved you the way you craved Monster; even when you were drinking it did you want it.

“I’m sorry, J.”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” At his sharp tone did you freeze but J tipped his head to press a tender kiss to the top of your head, his painted lips dramatically smacking against you as he peppered kisses to the same area. “Not a burden. You’re you and you’re not broken or wrong or anythin’ else you’ve ever been told. Got it?” J’s inflexions suggested offense and it was true - you were insulting yourself by speaking like that, and therefore you were insulting J.  “You’re my hyena and if you weren’t you, then you wouldn’t have me.”

“J,” You released a small noise of hurt, of pain, and J mocked you by repeating the noise back to you, his chest shaking in suppressed laughter as he pressed you into his body, letting go of your head just long enough for him to grab the corner of the duvet and tugging it back over your heads so that you were surrounded by darkness, and warmth, and J. “It hurts.”

“I got’cha, Lil. I got’cha. Sleep, hm? You’ll, ah - you’ll feel better when ya wake.”

“Stay?” You were sleepy, your voice quiet and hoarse with all the crying, your eyes heavy and stinging with sleep, so tired were you that even shutting your eyes hurt.

The only response you received was a squeeze.

I purple you, Lilith.

You heard the words he never spoke inside your head and it followed you into dreams, where finally, finally, did you rest.

Warm, safe, protected, loved.

Destructive raccoon boii™ @nothing-but-a-comedy @jokershyena   @anyatheladyclown   @mijachula   @joker-daddy    @rinbyo    @imightaswellnotexistatall    @vladtoly    @joker-is-my-hero    @liz-rdwitch   @enigmaticandunstable        @ledgerskitten    @tsukiakarinobara    @germansarechill      @ezziesworld    @antonija89

[alj4890]

Kiss/Love Prompts

(Maxwell Beaumont x Nadia Park) with the prompt: A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them as requested by Anonymous. (Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) with the prompt: Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force also requested by Anonymous. And the prompt: "I shouldn't be here." As requested by @krsnlove​

(Maxwell x Nadia) (Thomas x Amanda) in a The Royal Heir/Red Carpet Diaries/Perfect Match crossover Fan Fiction

@lxaah11​   @alleksa16​   @penguininapinktuxedo​   @blackcoffee85​   @stopforamoment​     @hopelessromantic1352​     @krsnlove​     @annekebbphotography​        @hopelessromantic1352​   . @sunflowergirl05​   @desireepow-1986​  @greywitchyshots​   @lilyofchoices @moodyvalentinestories​  @emceesynonymroll   @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms   @ab1901     @lolablackwrites     @flyawayboo   @i-bloody-love-drake-walker   . @trappedinfandoms   @kate-mckenzie

A/N This isn’t a part of any particular AU, but the idea came to me while listening to one of my playlists and somehow this storyline came about, LOL. It will be a short miniseries because somehow it blossomed in size the more I went into it. I changed Nadia’s problems with Eros for this and made her and Rachel Hunt old college roommates. Without further ado, let's see if Thomas Hunt's sister, Rachel, knows what she is doing when she sets him up on a blind date. Maxwell also plans his hand at matchmaking once more. He was awfully successful with Riley and Liam. And what are plans without a few troublemakers in the mix?

Song: In My Dreams

Masterlist

part 2

A Not So Perfect Match (Part 1)

Upper East Side, New York, Friday the 12th...

"Rachel!" Nadia squealed before squeezing her surprise visitor in a tight hug. 

"I've missed you too." Rachel patted her back. Her eyes widened at the top of her old friend’s once striking, jet black hair. “You colored your hair?!”

“Yeah.” Nadia pushed her now caramel hair back over her shoulders. “I needed a change.” Her brow furrowed with this unexpected visit. "What are you doing in New York?" 

"I came to check on you." She replied. “You didn’t sound right when we last talked.” 

The petite artist teared up some at the sweet gesture. "You shouldn't have come all this way. I'm fine."

"Nadia." Rachel grasped her friend's shoulders. "I lived with you for four years in college. I think after you comforted me during my crying jag over that moron, Nelson, who stood me up our freshman year, we are way past having to fake being fine."

Nadia's overly bright smile dimmed. "Thank God. I didn't think I could continue acting happy." Her eyebrows drew together with worry. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you again, it's just..." She took a deep breath. "It's just that I'm tired."

Rachel waited silently for her to elaborate.

Nadia groaned, thoroughly disgusted with herself. "I know when we last talked, I told you about the Eros debacle."

"Yes." Rachel moved her hand in an impatient motion to get her to continue.

"Well, ever since Damien found out the dating service was actually for people who wanted to cheat on their significant others and that it had someone perfectly matched for me, I have been too scared to try dating again.."

"Why?"

"Because!" Nadia practically exploded off the couch. "Each guy I think is the one turns out to be my worst nightmare. They either cheat, or stalk me, or take my left shoes, or--"

"Whoa. Back up. Who took your left shoes?!" Rachel glanced down at her own footwear, wondering why a man would do such a thing.

"Evan." Nadia reminded her. "Remember? Junior year, he broke into our room and took two left shoes from my closet."

Rachel's eyes narrowed as she thought back. "I completely forgot about that."

"I wish I could." Nadia tilted her head for her friend to follow. "I've recently made a study of my bad boyfriends."

She led her into the second bedroom of her apartment. There was a large rolling bulletin board covered in pictures of various men. Multicolored strands of yarn went from one ex to another.

"Wow." Rachel stepped forward and read the notes written in glitter gel pens and such her friend had posted with each one. "Nadia, perhaps--"

"Look, I know it's crazy and I'm crazy for going through with making this." Nadia's eyes filled with tears. "I have to know why I'm a jerk magnet."

"You're not a jerk magnet." Rachel rolled her eyes. "You have simply had a run of bad luck."

"It isn't a run! It's years of this." Nadia pointed out.

The evidence on the board was damning. It did seem that somehow the jerks of the world latched on to Nadia.

"You need a change." Rachel decided. "Pack your bags. You're coming with me to California."

"What?" Nadia exclaimed. "Rachel, I can't just--"

"Yes, you can." Rachel went to Nadia's room and began to go through her clothes. "We will go shopping once there. But for the time being, these will do." She pulled out several outfits and laid them on the bed. "I'm going to introduce you to someone that I believe is perfect for you."

"Who?" Nadia asked. An excited trepidation overcame her.

Could the perfect guy be waiting for her in Hollywood?

"My brother." Rachel declared. "Like you, Thomas hasn't had the best of luck with dating." A smile slowly formed as she imagined one of her best friends marrying her only brother. And it would all be because of her brilliant matchmaking.

"Rach, I don't know." Nadia hedged. "Didn't you say he is," she hesitated, "kind of grumpy?"

"He definitely is." Rachel searched for a suitcase. "And that's why I think you would be perfect for him. He needs someone sweet."

"I'm not so sure it will work out. You said he has a quick temper. I do too and--"

"You both have an artistic temperament." Rachel pointed out. "While yours is on canvas, his is film." She continued to pack Nadia's bags. "I can't wait for you two to finally meet."

When she noticed her friend trying to think of a way out of going, she decided to use their new current obsession. They had spent numerous hours on the phone talking about their favorite book.

"Maxwell Beaumont is bringing everyone in The Royal Romance to Hollywood in a few days."

"What?!" Nadia squealed. "Do you think we could meet them?!"

"Tommy Phelps invited my brother to a party for the nobles." Rachel laughed when Nadia dramatically flopped on her bed. "I talked Thomas into taking me. If you come, he can take us both."

And then you'll fall in love with each other, she thought.

"Why didn't you lead with that?!" Nadia broke into a wide smile. “I would love to go to California."

******************

A private jet, a few hours east of Hollywood...

"Excited?" Maxwell asked.

"Sorry?" Amanda removed her ear buds. "Did you say something?"

"Are you excited?" Maxwell repeated.

"About going to Hollywood? Of course." Amanda slipped her ear buds back in, assuming the conversation over.

He yanked out the right one.

"I'm sorry, were you not finished?" She set her kindle down.

"Amanda, you're about to meet everyone who's playing your favorite people in the world!" He took her by her shoulders and playfully shook her. "How can you sit there calmly?"

She laughed at his antics. "I am curious who the director picked to play you."

"I'll give you a hint." His dimples deepened. "Your favorite actor is playing yours truly."

"No!" Amanda's eyes widened. "Are you saying that Ryan Summers is playing you? Ryan I am too handsome to be true Summers?"

He nodded, finally content at having worked her into an excited frenzy.

"I love his movies." Amanda sighed. "Any chance you added a hidden romance for you in the script?" Her lips curved in a teasing smile. "I would be willing to work for free to share a love scene or two with him."

"Oh really?" Maxwell teased. "I guess it's a good thing I told him that if he wanted to learn more about me, then he should spend time with you."

"Shut up!" Amanda hit his arm. "You didn't!? Did you?"

"I did." He winked at her. "Perhaps you can also get to know him."

Amanda fanned herself with her tablet. "I can't imagine talking to him much less spending time with him."

"Breathe." Maxwell repeated. "In and out."

"This is going to be the best trip ever." She declared.

***************

Hollywood, Sunday the 14th...

"Come in." Thomas yelled out when he heard the persistent knock.

Rachel opened the door to his apartment. "Busy?"

He finished packing a stack of books in a crate. "Only with getting the last of my things on the moving truck."

"Good thing I came ready to help.” Rachel rolled up her sleeves.

"Thank you." He handed her a box and motioned toward the awards case. "Bubble wrap is over there."

"This is it for the bathroom." Ryan came around the corner. "And I managed to-- Rachel!"

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "Hello Ryan."

His slow, suggestive smile that made his horde of fans shiver formed. "I didn't know you were stopping by. I would have dressed up."

Thomas eyed the two silently.

"I like to surprise my brother. Keeps him tethered to the real world." She teased.

Thomas did not bother to respond to her quip as he hefted a box downstairs.

Ryan set his own box down and helped Rachel reach one of the awards on a top shelf.

"I heard you were in New York." He helped her wrap one of the SAG Awards.

"I was."

He paused waiting on her to say why she went there.

She glanced up at him. "I went to talk a friend of mine into coming here for a visit."

"A friend, huh?" His smile grew at the thought of her having a secret love. "Is this a close friend?"

"Very close." Rachel replied.

"Really?" Ryan turned away from her and picked up a box to take downstairs.

"I think she is perfect for Thomas." Rachel added when he stepped out the door.

Ryan slowly backed up. "Who's perfect for Thomas?"

"My friend in New York. Nadia." She explained. "I intend to put them together."

Ryan thought about the numerous ways this could end badly for all parties involved yet wisely kept it to himself. "When do I get to meet her?"

"You don't. Not until she meets Thomas." Rachel's nose crinkled. "You're too handsome."

His brow furrowed. "And this is bad?"

"Yes." Rachel faced him with her hands on her hips. "I can't tell you how many women have told me that you blind everyone with your looks and charm. I need Nadia to truly see Thomas. Once that is done, then you can meet her."

Ryan casually leaned against the doorframe. "Do I blind you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not at all. I'm immune to the charms of actors and models. One of the perks to having Thomas as a brother." She cut her eyes to him. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." He winked at her and said over his shoulder. "I like to know who will let me get away with anything by just flashing a smile."

She shook her head in exasperation while packing the rest of Thomas' awards away.

Her brother returned, frowning slightly at the few items that were left.

"Thomas?"

"Hmm?"

"Moving into your home seems like a new beginning, doesn't it?" She asked, attempting to sound innocent.

Perhaps a little too innocently.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing." She kept her back to him. "Just that life itself can change when one moves out of their comfort zone."

"I'm moving to a home I personally designed as my comfort zone." He grumbled.

She grit her teeth at how obtuse he could be sometimes. "I meant that you will have a place where new memories can be made without the stigma of the old."

He stopped packing and folded his arms. "What new memories are you talking about?"

"Well," she shrugged a shoulder. "You'll be making new movies. Throwing parties--"

"I'm not throwing parties."

"New romance." She continued, pretending he had not interrupted.

"I'm not interested." He informed her.

"You will be when you meet the right person." She set the last of his awards in the box. "Thomas, you built a home with eight bedrooms."

"And?"

"And what better way to fill them than with a family!" She exclaimed.

"Rachel, I built those for visitors. Plus, I am using some of those rooms for--"

"When do you invite people to stay with you?" She snapped. "And don't you dare say you are using them for your movie paraphernalia."

Thomas ran his hands over his face. "Rachel, I appreciate your concern, but I am perfectly content as a bachelor. I don't have to worry about whether or not I am focusing on a relationship like I should when a new film comes my way. The unnecessary drama of trying to figure out how serious we should be or--"

"That's why I have the perfect person for you!"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"You mean, who." She smiled at him. "I found someone who understands getting swept away with artistic endeavors."

"Rachel, you are not setting me up with someone." He stated firmly.

"Yes, I am." She argued. "Nadia is the one for you."

"Nadia?" Thomas' frown firmed as he tried to recall how he knew that name. "Your old roommate? The one you claimed was deeply in love with love?"

"That was nearly ten years ago." Rachel waved her hand dismissively. "She's mellowed some."

"No." He snapped. "Thank you for what I assume is a loving gesture on your part, but I am not interested."

"You're meeting her Thursday night for dinner at La Boucherie ." Rachel informed him. "Then escorting us next Friday to The Royal Romance party." She hefted her box and walked out the door, yelling, "Don't even think of getting out of it!"

Ryan dodged her on his way back inside. "What's wrong with Rachel?"

"She set me up on a blind date." Thomas replied bitterly. "One I neither asked for nor wanted."

*****************

The Royal Romance movie set, Tuesday the 16th...

"Here's the ballroom where we have the big BOOM" Tommy Phelps moved his hands like a bomb blowing up.

"But the night when Liam was crowned King was when the photos happened." Riley pointed out. "Not the night when the Sons of the Earth attacked."

"Love how you're thinking." Tommy said. "But we thought fireworks exploding during that big reveal of you and Tariq would really hammer home how little control you had."

"That moment was fraught with turmoil." Liam argued. "I had to immediately come up with a way to keep Riley safe while also trying to find a way to be with her." He looked about the ballroom. "I don't think fireworks do justice to that heartbreaking moment."

He shifted his daughter in his arms when she grunted.

Riley slipped her arm around him. She alone knew how he still suffered from that one night's decision. To this day, he apologized for being unable to choose her in that moment.

While the director continued to discuss options with the royal couple, Maxwell led the others to meet their actors.

"And this is Ryan Summers, aka me." Maxwell cocked his head to the side as he studied the man. "It's like looking in a mirror."

"I don't think you know what a mirror is." Drake commented.

"See." Seth pointed out. "This is what I am talking about. I need to know how you use your snark when talking to others."

"I still can't believe they chose Seth Levine for Drake." Amanda whispered to Olivia. "He is nothing like him."

Olivia nodded before turning her attention to the actress cast as her. "They made the right choice for me. Victoria Fontaine is known for not taking crap from anyone."

The normally blonde beauty had her hair the exact shade of Olivia's rich red locks. She was in the midst of training with a pair of daggers.

"She's got potential." Olivia muttered. When she noticed Amanda's lack of comment, she turned to see what held her attention.

"Really Amanda?" She teased. "You're drooling."

She quickly touched the corner of her dry parted lips before scowling. "Look at him!" She whispered. "He's more handsome than I expected."

"I guess Ryan is not too hard on the eyes." Olivia conceded.

"Amanda!" Maxwell motioned for her to come over. "I need you to tell Ryan how wonderful I am."

She steeled herself and hoped she didn't succumb to giggling like an idiot when he spoke to her.

Ryan held his hand out. "So this is the other friend who only knew of circumstances through phone calls?"

"That's me." Amanda could feel her skin flush from her neck to the tips of her ears. "I was away caring for my late uncle during Liam's search."

Maxwell grinned at her hand remaining in Ryan's. "She was the voice of reason whenever I called in a panic. If anyone can tell you what I went through during my times alone, it is the duchess I would call at three in the morning for encouragement."

"You won’t mind my pestering you?" Ryan's smile flashed causing her cheeks to turn darker.

"Not at all." She replied, smiling shyly back.

"Sounds like you two could use that dinner reservation I won't be able to make." Maxwell interjected. "Perfect opportunity to talk about me."

"What?" Amanda turned abruptly toward him. Her hand slipped from Ryan's grasp.

"Thursday night, seven o'clock. My agent unfortunately scheduled a last-minute book signing for that night. " Maxwell quirked an eyebrow at Ryan. "Any chance you could take her to dinner at La Boucherie?"

"Maxwell--" her voice almost squeaked with embarrassment. "I... I’m sure Ryan has...we can't..."

"Sure." Ryan responded. "I'll come by and pick you up." He smiled once more at Amanda as he left the two to speak to Tommy.

She pinched Maxwell underneath his arm.

"Ow!" He rubbed the spot. "What was that for."

"Did you just set me up with Ryan Summers?" Amanda hissed.

"Are you asking if I concocted a plan to have one of my best friends go to a romantic dinner for two with the one actor she gasped over when he removed his shirt during a love scene?" He countered.

She dropped her head in her hands. "Maxwell!"

"You're welcome." His sing song voice taunted her as he left her alone.

****************

"Here you go Chris." Addison helped him into another jacket. "Better?" She asked when he moved his arms.

"Much better." He replied. "Thanks Addison."

She smiled and went to check on Cassandra's ballgown, pausing when she overheard one of the nobles talking about someone she knew well.

"I still think Thomas Hunt should have directed this." The dark-haired duchess muttered behind her cup.

"You sure it isn't your crush on him making you say that?" Asked the guy that was clearly best friends with the king.

Addison ducked behind a column to continue to eavesdrop. She peeked around it to see how the duchess looked when responding.

"Just because I've always found him attractive doesn't mean he isn't a talented director. When I think of all he could have done with this story--" she smacked the man's arm.

"Amanda, what was that for?!" He asked.

"You know what you were doing, Drake Walker." She wagged a finger at him. “I don’t make that expression whenever I talk about him.”

"Would you have been able to concentrate on the tour if Hunt was directing?" Drake teased.

Amanda's cheeks turned red. "I highly doubt it." She lowered her eyes. "I was secretly hoping we could still meet him." She looked around the set. "Seems unlikely now."

"You've got a few weeks to casually bump into him." Drake countered, nudging her side. "Just because you haven't seen him after a day or so in Hollywood, doesn't mean you won't."

Addison studied the noble closely. She might work for Thomas, she thought. Then the next words she overheard caused her to decide then and there to set Thomas up with this lady.

"I guess we better rejoin the others. Tommy probably has this whole soundstage rigged to blowup like every other movie he has directed." Amanda grumbled. "Would it kill him to stick to the heartache and romance of Liam and Riley's story?"

Addison quickly pulled her phone out and sent a quick text.

Holly. I found her.

*****************

Later that afternoon, The Beverly Wiltshire...

Nadia closed her eyes and sank deeper into the pool, sighing at how wonderful it felt. She tilted her head back, enjoying the sensation of the cool water mixed with the warmth of the sun.

She might have to visit California more often.

She sat up with a start, spluttering at the wave of water that crashed over her.

"I'm so sorry! You okay? I tripped and almost landed on you. It was either splashing you or drowning you."

She rubbed her eyes and blinked at the man nearly tripping over his words with the speed he was speaking. A pair of startling blue eyes were narrowed in concern at her silence.

Her lips parted at the face that slowly came into focus. The very face that graced the cover of the book she kept on her nightstand sheepishly smiled at her.

"I hope I didn't hurt you." He said, dimples deepening.

"I'm fine." She managed to say, smiling at him. "Besides, if I didn't want to get wet, I shouldn't have come to the pool."

His smile grew. "I've never understood people who want to just lay out by water. Who can resist how great it is to swim?"

"Exactly!" She exclaimed. "I'm usually the one having to drag my best friend into the water. He thinks he is too old to play in the pool."

Maxwell shook his head in sympathy. "It takes special people to be friends with such a person. We have to work so much harder to make sure they have fun."

"That's what I always say!" Nadia covered her mouth at how loud her words were. She was so excited to be talking to the Maxwell Beaumont that she lost all volume control.

He smiled and held his hand out. "I'm Maxwell by the way."

"I know." She bounced a little in the water with meeting him on her first day out. "I am your biggest fan! Well, me and Rachel are. I can't tell you how much I LOVE your book!"

Maxwell couldn't stop smiling. "I love meeting a fan."

Her bouncing began to make waves. "Fan hardly describes it. Not that I'm like obsessed with you or anything." She quickly amended. "I've had a stalker fan before. Not. Fun. At. All. Huge fan of your work is a little more appropriate."

His smile dimmed. "You had a stalker?" His eyes swept over her. "I wish I had Amanda here. She could tell me what movie I must have seen you in."

Nadia laughed and shook her head. "I doubt it. I've never done any acting. I'm an artist." She explained moving her hand as if it held a brush. "Paints and canvas."

He playfully wiped his brow in relief. "Thank goodness. I was about to call a doctor to check me over for a head injury if I had forgotten someone like you."

Her cheeks flushed. "I--that's so--thank you." She clasped her hands together to keep from fidgeting. "If you are ever in New York, you'll have to come by my gallery."

"New York huh?" His eyes held hers. "I should have known. After meeting Riley there, I've learned that amazing women come from that city."

Nadia thought she might melt right then and there.

He moved a little closer to her. "Nadia, I don't suppose--"

"Maxwell!" Hana called out. "There you are!" She sent a brief smile toward Nadia. "Sorry to interrupt but Tommy's been trying to get a hold of you. He needs to discuss another scene he thinks needs to be amped up."

"Be right there." His smile disappeared at having to leave. "It was nice meeting you Nadia."

"Best day ever." She replied.

He fought his grin. "Any chance you'll be staying in Hollywood for a while."

"A couple of weeks." She replied.

"Here? At the hotel?" He pushed himself out of the pool.

She became speechless at the sight of him shirtless and dripping wet. "Um. Hmm? Yeah."

He quickly dried off. "Then I hope to splash you again." He winked at her and hurried off.

She watched him until he went back inside before ducking under the water. She let out a squeal once under then popped back to the surface.

Nadia scrambled out of the pool and reached for her phone. "Rach? I JUST MET MAXWELL BEAUMONT!"

*****************

Later that night at The Ivy...

At a table for four out on the back patio, Holly waved to get her friend’s attention.

"Hey guys." Addison pulled a chair out and collapsed. "I needed this."

Steve chuckled at her actions. "Hard day?"

"Hard barely covers it." She grumbled. "With all the fireworks and explosions, I'm going to have to find flame retardant material to make ballgowns out of."

"Could be worse." Holly countered. "You could be helping Thomas move into his new home."

Steve grimaced at the reminder of his current assignment. "Or trying to draw up the right plans for his guest house." He rubbed his temple. "I somehow convinced myself that it would go easier after drawing up blueprints for his dream home." He downed his cocktail. "I've never been more wrong."

"He is a demanding, highly detailed man." Holly muttered. "Turns out great on film but is such a pain to work with."

"At least with Thomas, there aren't any surprises." Addison countered. "I'd willingly trade spots right now for a break from Tommy."

"Don't worry. You'll soon be back where you belong." Holly lifted her menu and grinned. "Tortured with the rest of us as we deal with Mr. Hunt's next vision."

"This is the last time I volunteer to work under Tommy." Addison swore.

Steve leaned closer and lifted a blonde lock of her hair. "Addison? Did you get burned?"

She glanced down and let out a shrill shriek. "MY HAIR!"

Holly coughed to cover her laughter. "I'm so sorry." Tears fell with her suppressed laughter. "I'm not laughing about what happened, just your reaction."

Addison dropped her head on the table with a loud thunk. "I need drinks."

"On it." Steve got their waiter's attention and ordered her favorite.

She sighed and resumed sitting up straight. "Thanks."

"Cheer up." Holly nudged her. "We can get your hair cut in a cute style before Matt gets back in town."

"I know." She mumbled.

Steve and Holly shared a glance at their friend’s unusual low spirits. "So tell us about this woman you found for Thomas."

Steve quirked an eyebrow. "I'm curious how you plan on getting them together. He's already trying to get out of one blind date."

"Blind date?" Addison narrowed her eyes. "But I found the perfect one! Who set him up?"

"Rachel." Holly explained. "With an old roommate of hers."

"She's an artist from New York." Steve added.

"No. Nope. She will not be his perfect match. The lady from Cordonia will." Addison argued. "And I think I know how to get them to meet. Is Thomas still planning on doing that sci-fi movie?"

"You know he is." Holly answered, wondering where she was going with this. "He's been taking his time with it during this move. Plans on focusing on it in a few weeks."

Addison pulled her phone out. "Don't judge me for this, but I took some pictures of the one I want for him."

Her friends studied the first image.

"She's pretty." Steve zoomed in on her face.

"I agree." Holly studied the next picture Addison had snapped.

"Look at her eyes." Addison pointed out.

The two were silent as they did as she said.

"Okay." Steve said slowly. "She has beautiful eyes."

"Oh." Holly blinked. "Oh, you're good."

"Right?!" Addison exclaimed.

"Am I missing something?" Steve asked.

"When are you doing this?" Holly asked. "How will you get her to do this?"

"I overheard her say she hoped to go on a tour of the studio. I thought I could offer to take her to Thomas's soundstage and," she scrunched her shoulders with anticipation, "watch the two fall in love."

"Hello?" Steve waved at them. "Guy over here that isn't fluent in Chang-Sinclaire-ese."

"Addison is going to pretend she's found the perfect person to play the female lead in Thomas's next film." Holly explained. "He has stated more than once that he believes he needs an actress with large, expressive eyes."

"Oh." He looked down at Amanda's face again. "You are good."

 "Good enough to have you buy dinner for me?" Addison teased.

"I did just build a multimillion-dollar home." He pretended to think about it. "And you were singed on the job."

Addison clasped her hands together. "Think of my poor hair and how desperately it needs nutrients."

"I guess I could be talked into it." He smiled at her. "I do owe you both for recommending me to Thomas."

"Wait, you're paying for mine too?" Holly rose halfway out of her chair to search for their waiter. "I need to add to my order."

Once they had their entrees, Addison studied the two closely as they talked about their day. Feeling confident in her choice for Thomas, she began to wonder which individuals she could match them with.