#tbh the other thing that makes me pause is deciding who i’d write bc my brain is out here plucking up a good chunk of the main cast

[quietlyblooms]

at the risk of being annoying, the appeal of writing a.rcane characters grows and the only thing stopping me is that i’ve been busy and tired 😔

[lazywonderlvnd]

Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly. 

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him. 

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it. 

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

*

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning. 

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences. 

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils. 

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

*

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

*

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather. 

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

 At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Life After Losing Him

Summary: Reader goes about their new daily life but soon runs into the best friend they had lost several months prior.

TW/CW: Platonic!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester (mostly Dean tbh). Classmate bullying Reader. Should College Student Reader be a warning? Bc I feel like it should lmao. Lots of swearing. Dean does the silver blade test so a wound and blade are mentioned. I don’t think there’s anything else but lmk if I should add something.

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Hello love, your writing is really good and I love how active you are on your account it’s very impressive I could never 🥰 I would be so honored if you could do a platonic imagine for me??? I had in mind like Dean going to hell and coming back and being mad at Sam because he stopped hunting and maybe being mad at reader for moving on and going to college/not trying to help Sam? Idk if that makes any sense lol”

Word Count: 1,880

A/N: So, Dean isn’t as angry as I could’ve written him to be, I didn’t really include Sam much in this one, and it’s mostly Reader going about her day in her new life. If enough of you want it, I could write a second part where Dean and Reader get home and talk to Sam or whatever. I hope this is alright. I personally really like some bits of it but as a whole it feels off to me for some reason.

Your POV

    I grabbed the car keys off my side table before heading out my bedroom door with my backpack slung over my shoulder. I stopped in the kitchen to grab the lunch I had packed the previous evening and a thermos of coffee before heading out for another day of boring ass classes. When I enrolled at the local community college to major in folklore and mythology, I thought the classes would be more interesting and it would be a piece of cake but unfortunately, I got stuck with a boring professor who obviously didn’t even want to be teaching the class in the first place. I push the garage doors open before making my way over to the car. I open the door and drop down into the driver’s seat, set my thermos in the cupholder near my feet, and toss my backpack and lunchbox into the passenger seat. After closing the door, I sigh as I place my hands on the steering wheel, “Alright, Baby. Another day without him but I know you’ve still got my back.” I reach over and pat the dash before cranking the ignition and pulling out of the garage to head for school. The ride to school is quiet aside from the classic rock drifting softly through the speakers.  

    I manage to find a decent parking spot within walking distance of my class but have to mentally prepare myself before grabbing my coffee and backpack and stepping out of the car. I lock the doors, shut mine, and head towards class. On autopilot, I find the classroom that I need and take my usual seat near the front against a wall and turn my back to the wall as I always do. Aside from a few who like to get here early for the same reason I do, to get our favorite seats, the majority of the class hasn’t arrived yet so I pull out my notebook, pen, and coffee. I avoid all eye contact with the others in the room and label my notebook page for today’s lecture. For the most part, people around here seem to avoid me although I haven’t decided if it’s because I intimidate them or because they think I’m “one of those backwoods crazy people” or perhaps it’s both. Regardless, it suits me fine. I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a degree and do something useful with my new life. When he died, Sam and I both agreed to not try to find a way to bring him back and try to create a normal life. Every now and then, I secretly take a hunt but it’s usually nothing more than a basic salt and burn case. I did get a job at a local mechanic shop. They were practically begging me to take the job when I showed up for the interview in Baby.

    I’m pulled from my thoughts as a loud group of guys enter the room. I try to ignore them but as per usual their little pack leader wants to try to ruin my day. He calls out to me but thankfully before he can start something, the instructor enters and tells him to have a seat. I’ll have to give this instructor points for at least not putting up with any bullshit like that in his class. Anyway, the rest of the class joins shortly and takes their seats and, on the dot, as always, the instructor starts his lecture. A miserable hour and a half later I have several pages of notes, most of which are completely false from a hunter’s perspective, about topics I already know the truth about just so I know what the instructor will expect on the test. The instructor dismisses us so I pack away all my things and head back to the car to eat lunch before my next class.

    I’m about halfway back to the car, which is completely hidden by a huge, jacked up, 4x4 pickup truck, when the loud group of guys catches up to me and their leader calls out again, "Hey, nerd! Why don’t you stop for a second? I didn’t get a chance to take notes in class and I want to get pictures of yours.”

    I ignore him and keep my head down as I mumble under my breath, “yeah because you were sleeping,” and continue to the car. As I come around the back end of the pickup and approach the car, I slam into something, or rather someone, sturdy and nearly get knocked on my ass if it weren’t for the person catching me. Out of instinct I go to grab my dagger out of its sheath under my sleeve but the person grabs my hand, “Don’t pull that thing out here. It’s just me.” Hearing that voice causes pure shock mixed with a touch of suspicion to wash over me. I look up and into the face of my formerly, dearly departed best friend, Dean Winchester. However, before I can ask questions or even test to make sure it’s him, the small group of my classmates rounds the end of the pickup truck causing Dean to push me behind him in a protective way.  

    The pack leader grins mischievously, “Who’s this? You know this guy, nerd?”

    I roll my eyes but Dean speaks up for me, “I’m (Y/n)’s brother you little bitch. Now, fuck off and leave her alone.” In all honesty, Dean wasn’t biologically my brother but he and Sam have been the closest thing to having any siblings in general that I’ve ever gotten.  

    The pack leader looks around Dean at me, “This true?” I nod. He laughs, “Well, I don’t know which of you are driving this piece of junk but you should probably get with the times and stop driving this old rust bucket. Maybe you could upgrade to a nice truck like mine here,” he taunts patting the truck parked beside us.

    “Your attention seeking, overcompensating piece of shit on wheels could never handle the things this car has been through,” Dean argues, stepping forward. I grab his arm and tug in attempts to get him to back down, no luck.

    The guy scoffs, “Yeah right. I bet if your little friend behind you there hit a curb it’d tear this car to pieces.”

    Before Dean can get into a fist fight, I unlock the car door and shove him in before climbing in myself. Unfortunately, the asshole doesn’t get the hint that I’m leaving and leans back against Baby. I check the mirrors to make sure that I’m not going to run anyone over before driving forward out of my spot, mentally thanking whoever didn’t park there or had just pulled out of the spot in front of me, causing the pack leader to fall on his ass. I laugh to myself as I watch in the rearview mirror and then take off. I find a secluded spot on campus to park so that I can test Dean, figure out what the hell happened with him, and eat my lunch before my next class in four hours. When I put the car in park, and look over, he’s already rolled his sleeve up and has a silver blade ready for the test. He presses the blade into his arm right above another wound that looks fresh.  

    “I figure if Sam wanted all the tests done then you definitely will,” he grumbles before wrapping his arm having sufficiently proven he’s not allergic to the silver. I grab the bottle of holy water that I keep in my backpack and hand it to him. He takes a sip of it before handing it back to me. I nod in understanding before grabbing my lunchbox to eat.

    Once I’ve opened my sandwich, I take a bite, chew, and swallow before asking, “What happened this time?”

    “I don’t know, Sam’s working on that now,” he pauses, watching me, “I’d like to know what the hell happened to you.”

    “There it is again. You never call him Sam but that’s twice in just the past few minutes,” I muse, avoiding his question, “I guess you’re pissed at him because he stopped hunting?”

    “Yeah, and it seems to me like you did too so why don’t you answer my question?” he replies.

    I sigh, and toss my sandwich back onto the paper towel in my lap, “After we lost you, Sam and I agreed to not go looking for a way to bring you back and to start living a normal life. Granted, I always mentally thanked him for phrasing it that way because that meant if a way to bring you back fell into my lap then I could take the opportunity. Regardless, I got a job at a mechanic shop nearby and started classes here for a degree in folklore and mythology.”

    He scoffs and whips his head around to look out the windshield, “So you stopped hunting too. What the hell is wrong with you two?”

    “The two of us didn’t stop hunting. He did,” I snap back, “He doesn’t know it but I go on hunts every now and then when the apple pie life gets too boring.”

    “What about that asshole back there? Why do you let him bully you?” he asks, nodding his head toward where we had come from earlier.

    “He’s always trying to pick on me but I ignore him for the most part and keep my dagger in my sleeve just in case. The less attention I draw to myself the better.” I answer.

    “You’re really balancing all this? Like, you go to class and study for exams and shit but then every now and then you go hunting during the weekend?” he asks and I nod. “So, what about Sammy?”

    “He got a job, even been on a few dates but like I said, he stopped hunting, as far as I know anyway,” I respond. My phone dings before either of us could say anything else so I pick it up to check it and find that my instructor for my other class for today has sent out a message to cancel it for today. I toss the phone down onto the seat between us and stuff my sandwich and everything else I had pulled out back into my lunchbox before putting the car in drive and backing out of this spot.

    “What are you doing?” he questions, once again. I swear if he doesn’t knock it off with the questions, I’m going to roundhouse his ass.

    “Going home. My other class for today was cancelled,” I answer shortly.

    He’s quiet until we get to the campus entrance, “Can we- uh- Can we stop and get a burger on the way?” I nod as I laugh at him. This is probably going to be weird to adapt to but we’ll figure it out. The three of us always figure things out. Honestly, if this turns into something bigger, as it usually does, then wouldn’t mind quitting school. Turns out it’s not all it’s cracked up to be and definitely not for me. I just hope Dean won’t sulk too long about how Sam and I handled life after losing him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii @akshi8278 @deandaydreaming @castiels-majestic-wings​ @desimarie12​

[mego42]

I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

[ragnarachael]

So I couldn't decide between two of the sentence starter list😂 But maybe: * Did someone spike the punch? And * I'd let you haunt me all night long. With Matt Murdock pretty please? If you get a chance I mean

hi! when you sent this in last night i literally got hit with inspo so i already have the bare bones of this and i literally went all out with basically a whole fic instead of a drabble but it’s my fave holiday so i had a BLAST (but tbh this may seem like i’m trying to jump around and i apologize bc i’m doing like a bunch of things while writing so it probably reads like trash)

send in a prompt or two for a halloween drabble!!

Foggy was throwing a Halloween party at his apartment with Marci this year and told both you and Matt that you have to come. No Daredevil or Siren action to keep the city safe while little kids trick or treat. Just Matt and Y/N having fun with friends drinking punch that has dry ice in it, eating little finger foods in scary shapes.

With that proposition, you two couldn’t say no.

You went to Matt’s to pick him up for the party, only to see him in a suit and tie while you were dressed up in a shitty costume version of your suit.

“Matt, who the hell are you supposed to be?”

“A lawyer in Hell’s Kitchen,” he replied with a smirk before letting you follow him into his apartment. You rolled your eyes with a huff as you walked in and shut the door behind you, your bag on your back suddenly weighing a little heavier on your back.

“That’s not very fun and creative of you.”

“Did you expect me to wear the suit, Y/N?”

“Maybe I did.” You dropped your bag on his couch as Matt grabbed his suit jacket with ease. He paused as he was about to pull it on, tilting his head like he usually does in your direction.

“You’re wearing a knock off of your suit?”

You laughed and fell back to sit on the couch next to your bag. “Obviously! It’s Halloween, Matt, why wouldn’t you want to dress up in your costume?”

“Because it’s not for Halloween festivities, it’s for fighting, Y/N. It’s not a party trick. What are you pulling out of your bag?”

You let out overdramatic scoffs, slowly pulling out a folded up pile of something, before placing it on the coffee table. 

“Your actual costume. Because vigilante buddies don’t let other vigilante buddies look like lawyers from Hell’s Kitchen.”

After Matt figured out what the pile of clothes was, he was huffy and reluctant to put it on.

But he still wore it. With no complaints that the material was scratchy, thankfully.

The walk to Foggy’s was, as usual, uneventful. There was a bunch of kids running around with parents and significantly less traffic than there would be on a normal Thursday afternoon.

It was a little chilly walk but you and Matt have been filling the silence with laughter and that was enough to warm the both of you up.

Eventually the two of you got to Foggy’s apartment and the first thing you got when he saw you two was a death glare behind Foggy’s own superhero costume mask.

“Trick or treat?” You said almost innocently, smiling as you looked through the shitty remake of your suit’s cowl. Foggy relented a sigh before stepping aside to let you two in.

“You’re the worst.”

“No we’re not!” You exclaimed as Matt just laughed, walking in with you.

“You didn’t say we couldn’t dress up, Fog,” Matt said, defending your choices in costumes, “however Y/N forced me into this. I was going to be a lawyer.”

Foggy let out a huff from behind his mask before lifting it up off of his face to properly talk. “I’ll allow it. As long as they’re not the real deal. I can’t see anything with the neon lighting Marci’s got on.”

You rolled your eyes fondly and reached out a hand to pat Foggy’s shoulder.

“We wouldn’t do that, Fog. They’re knockoffs, I promise.”

Foggy seemed pleased with that response and smiled at the both of you before quickly explaining and describing where everything was, starting to guide you to the two punch bowls located on the kitchen counters.

Just before he was finished explaining he dropped two cups of punch into your awaiting hands before saying his goodbyes to quickly greet other people just as he saw Marci get the door.

“This seems like a really wholesome party,” you started, smiling as you passed a cup to Matt’s awaiting hand. Matt chuckled as you went to take a sip of your cup before making a face.

“Did someone spike the punch?”

Matt in that instance brought his nose up to the rim of the cup and kept quiet for a moment before grabbing your hand and gently guiding your cup to his nose.

“I think it’s jungle juice, actually.”

You let out a grunt of disgust before taking another sip. 

“Why are you still drinking it if you’re hating the experience?” Matt questioned as he tried not to laugh. You shrugged and cleared your throat after the second sip.

That’s how the majority of the night went for you with Matt attached to your side. In hindsight, you really wished you had actually switched to the regular punch, considering after three cups you felt like the room was constantly spinning and you wouldn’t stop flirting with any and everyone.

It was a curse.

“Y’know, Matt?” You started, plopping back down on the couch next to him as Thriller played over the sound system, the party having gone down in size considerably due to it being 11 at night. “I’d let you haunt me all night long.”

Matt took in a breath and could tell you were considerably trashed, especially since he could hear your heartbeat picking up from sudden adrenaline rush you’d gotten.

“Are you flirting, Y/N?”

You hummed back in response, laying your head on his shoulder as your hand lands on his thigh. “Maybe. Is it finally workin’?”

Matt scrunched his face up with confusion before protectively wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you snuggled closer to him.

“I’m cutting you off for the night.”

[generallynerdy]

Babysitting (Carol Danvers & Sister!Reader)

first 10 minutes of endgame spoilers im warning u

Summary: When Carol goes to find Tony Stark and company on Titan, she regretfully has to leave behind her little sister, (Y/N). She isn’t pleased with the arrangement, at least until she discovers a raccoon and a particularly friendly cat in the compound.

Requested by & Anon: I'd love a Carol Danvers x little sister! Reader who loves animals! Like, she takes care of Goose and she loves Rocket, even though he insists he's not a raccoon

Key: (Y/N) - your name Warnings: nova calls the Decimation by the Snap bc that’s clearly what it should’ve been called, Cursing Probably, f l u f f, insinuations of death by plum-man Word Count: 2,202

Note: this focuses a lot on the avengers w/her sister sorry not sorry it’s cute and i needed to write rhodey tbh

    “Woah!” The little girl gasped. “This place is so big!”

    She was led along, hand in hand with a blonde woman in a sort of suit of red, blue, and gold. She skipped as she went, little stuffed dog wrapped tightly in her free arm. Her companion took her to a massive compound that looked relatively empty.

    The blonde laughed. “Yeah, it’s pretty big, huh?”

    “Carol,” the little girl whined as they got halfway across the building’s huge lobby. “Up.”

    Carol leaned down, plucking her tiny partner from the ground and scooping her into her arms. “You are needy, you know that?” She teased, booping the child’s nose.

    She giggled and shoved her hands away, using the stuffed puppy to cover her face from further attack. “Do you have to go?” She whined suddenly.

    “(Y/N), I wouldn’t leave you if I didn’t have to,” Carol sighed.

    Carol went to brush her little sister’s hair behind her ear, but her hand was shoved away spitefully. She didn’t want to leave her baby sister, but sometimes duty called. In this particular case, she was headed out to find a certain Tony Stark and company, who were hopefully on Titan.

    “Ah, there you are--” Someone said before stopping.

    Carol stopped as they approached the elevators and ran into a redhead, who stopped them there. “(Y/N),” Carol said to the girl in her arms, “This is Natasha.”

    “Hi,” (Y/N) whispered, waving shyly at her and burying her face in her stuffed friend.

    Her older sister smiled fondly. “She’s gonna help take care of you while I’m gone.”

    “I don’t wanna go,” she whined again. “I wanna stay with you and go save people, Carol, please!”

    Carol sighed and kissed her forehead. “I know, kiddo. But this one will be faster if I do it myself. They’re gonna take really good care of you and I’ll be back before you know it. Okay?”

    “Okay,” she whispered, though reluctantly.

    “Can you take her?” Carol asked Natasha. “They’re waiting for me in the hangar.”

    Natasha nodded and was soon given the terrified child. Carol kissed her on the cheek once more and was gone, (Y/N) waving miserably after her.

    “I know being left with strangers is horrible and scary,” Natasha said to the girl once her sister was gone. “But we’re gonna make the best of it.”

    (Y/N) nodded slowly, but her expression didn’t change. She was scared out of her mind.

    Natasha didn’t try to force her to talk, as she knew that would only make her more uncomfortable. So, she took her upstairs instead, hoping that the others would be able to make her more comfortable with things. After all, she could be stuck with them for days before Carol came back.

    The pair walked into the meeting room, where part of what was left of the Avengers gathered. Thor had yet to show, rather preoccupied with setting his people up in a new place to live, but Steve was downstairs sending Carol off.

    Bruce and Rhodey were the only ones in there, as well as Rocket, who was closest to the door. (Y/N) spotted him first.

    “A raccoon!” She gasped.

    The others looked up instantly at that, Bruce shooting Nat a confused expression. She just smiled a little and shook her head at (Y/N)’s reaction.

    “Why do people keep saying that?” Rocket huffed, not quite realising that a child had said it. “I’m not a raccoon!”

    “Guys, this is (Y/N),” Natasha said, kneeling to the ground to put the girl down. “Carol’s little sister.”

    Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “Hi, (Y/N). I’m Rhodey. This is Bruce.”

    “That’s Rocket,” Nat added, gesturing to the raccoon.

    The girl nodded a little before wandering over to Rocket, who looked terrified at this action. She just kind of pet his ear, giggling a little.

    “You’re so fluffy,” she said.

    He couldn’t help smiling slightly. “Yeah, one of my best qualities.”

    Meanwhile, Nat sat beside the other two men in the room, sighing as she did. She didn’t want to make them help her watch (Y/N), nor did she want them to do so at all. They were grieving, all of them. They didn’t need this. But, of course, they were heroes and they would offer to anyway.

    “How long are we babysitting?” Rhodey asked.

    “Who knows?” Nat sighed. “Until Carol gets back.”

    Bruce moved from the table to kneel in front of (Y/N), who had moved away from Rocket to the computers on one side of the room. They displayed the faces of the missing and, frankly, he didn’t want her to ask about them, so he decided to distract her instead.

    “Hey, (Y/N), what do you do for fun?”

    (Y/N) put a hand to her chin thoughtfully. “Carol likes taking me to new planets! And sometimes we sing to old songs on the way there or play hide n’ seek in the ship!”

    “Hide and seek, huh?” Bruce asked with a small smile. “Do you wanna play that?”

    “Yeah!” She exclaimed, hopping up and down. “You seek and I’ll hide! But you hafta count to 200, ‘cause that’s how much we count in big places.”

    Nat barely held in a laugh and Rhodey failed entirely. The kid was adorable. Maybe she was what they needed around here.

    “Okay, 200. Got it,” Bruce said. “Ready?”

    By the time he was at 5, (Y/N) had sprinted out of the room, tiny stuffed dog in hand.

    Rhodey didn’t have much to do at the compound except worry about Tony. So, he took to pacing the halls, finding unexplored rooms that had been abandoned since the Snap. What he didn’t expect to find when he turned a corner was little (Y/N) tugging at a stuck door with all her might.

    He laughed at the sight, glancing down the hall, but seeing no one. So, he approached the kid.

    “Uh, hey,” he said suddenly. “What are you doing?”

    “Tryna get in,” she answered bluntly.

    Rhodey had a silly grin on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to be playing hide and seek with Bruce?”

    She shrugged. “He’s bad at seeking. And Nicky’s office won’t open.”

    “Nicky…?” Rhodey asked. He glanced at the name on the door and stopped cold. Nicholas J Fury. “You know Fury?”

    “Uh huh!” (Y/N) said proudly, still pulling at the door handle. “Carol tells me stories about him for bedtime. Like when they saved the world from Kree! That’s my favourite.”

    Rhodes shook his head a little. “Here, lemme help you with that.”

    He managed to get the door unstuck and followed the girl inside, viewing the office with a sense of reminiscence. He was too busy looking around to realise that (Y/N) was looking for something-- or someone-- in particular.

    “Goose!” She whisper-called. “Goosey, Goose, Goose. Where are you?”

    When Rhodey did hear he, he tilted his head. “Goose? What are you--?”

    He was interrupted by a meow and watched in awe as a ginger cat appeared from behind Fury’s desk. It greeted (Y/N) instantly with purrs, making her giggle and pet it lovingly.

    “There you are!” She cooed.

    “I didn’t know Fury had a cat…” He muttered.

    (Y/N) picked up the cat and held it up, looking into its blank eyes. “You’re even cuter in real life! Carol’s gonna be so happy I found you!”

    “Did your sister tell you stories about Goose, too?”

    “Yeah!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “She’s like the coolest pet ever.”

    Rhodey hummed. “Didn’t take Fury for a cat person. Or a pet person.”

    “Goose isn’t a cat,” she huffed. “Goose is a Flerken. She’s way better than any cat. Isn’t that right, Goosey?”

    “Mrrow?”

    He simply paused, looking between the girl and the cat, the latter of whom stared back somewhat eerily. “Flerken. Right.” He furrowed his eyebrows, muttering to himself. “What the hell’s a Flerken?”

    (Y/N) was at the compound a little longer than they had anticipated, but they quickly got into a routine with her. Natasha, Rhodey, and Steve were in charge of making sure she got food and everything else she needed, while Bruce and Rocket were in charge of fun. Thor wasn’t in the mood. Nobody else really was either, but they were willing to put aside some things so that (Y/N) was taken care of.

    One night, as Steve was tucking her in, she asked him something.

    “Steve?” She called before he could close the door. “Can you tell me a story?”

    The captain stopped dead in his tracks and turned to her with a little smile. “A story?”

    “Carol tells me stories,” (Y/N) whispered quietly.

    So, he pulled up a chair beside her bed and settled in. The girl was just missing her big sister. He wanted to give her as much comfort as he could until she came back. Goose was pretty helpful when it came to that. In fact, she was curled up beside the little girl, looking like she was waiting for a bedtime story, too.

    “What kind of story do you wanna hear?” Steve asked.

    Her answer was instant. “Carol tells me stories about when she was in the air force. Or when she and Nicky saved the world.”

    “Okay…” he paused, exhaling sharply. “I’ve got one.”

    So, he told her about the time he and his best friend, Bucky, went to the Stark Expo. He also mentioned how he tried to illegally sign up to fight in the war, which she thought was funny. He didn’t go much further than that, but he did linger on Bucky a little.

    “Carol has a Bucky,” (Y/N) yawned when he finished his story.

    Steve raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”

    “Uh huh. Her name’s Marie,” the girl said. “We go visit her an’ Monica-- that’s her daughter-- a lot. But we don’t tell Nicky when we come visit, ‘cause we visit a lot.”

    “Is this the Marie that was a pilot, too?”

    (Y/N) nodded drowsily, smiling before frowning. “I asked Carol if we could visit ‘em this time, but she said we can’t. D’you know why?”

    Steve’s heart broke. He couldn’t be sure, but he had a pretty damn good hunch on why (Y/N) and Carol wouldn’t get to visit Marie and Monica. It took everything in him to lie to this kid, to tell her something that was so far from the truth.

    “No, I don’t,” he lied through his teeth. “But maybe you’ll get to see them before you leave.”

    “I hope so,” she muttered as he went to leave her room. “G’night.”

    “Goodnight. Sleep well, kiddo.”

    (Y/N) stumbled into the kitchen one morning, Goose following her as she carried her stuffed friend there. The cat followed her pretty much everywhere.

    A gasp left the little girl’s lips at the sight of a familiar blonde head of hair.

    “CAROL!”

    She ran into her big sister’s arms, laughing excitedly.

    “Oh, there’s my girl,” Carol groaned at the impact of the attack hug, kneeling down to her sister’s level. “I told you I’d be back before you knew it.”

    “Lookie who I found!” (Y/N) said, rushing over to Goose.

    She picked the cat up and showed her to Carol, who smiled instantly at the sight. It was a bittersweet smile as she remembered why Goose was all alone in the compound, but a smile nonetheless.

    “Hi, Goose,” she greeted softly, grinning when the cat rubbed up against her fondly. “Remember me?”

    (Y/N) giggled. “Of course she does!”

    “You know what, kiddo?” Carol asked, not noticing the smiles on the faces of her fellow Avengers, who were scattered about the room. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

    “You do?” (Y/N) gasped.

    Carol nodded. “I made breakfast-- French Toast!”

    “YAY!” The girl squealed, racing to find a chair at the table as her sister went to grab her food. “Can Goose have some, too?”

    Goose climbed up on the chair beside her, almost on cue.

    Carol laughed. “Yes, Goose can have some, too.”

    She placed one plate in front of her sister and a smaller one in front of the Flerken, who was practically drooling in anticipation. (Y/N) dug in, but Goose had to hop up on the table to reach her food.

    The other Avengers watched with small smiles as the Flerken nudged her food experimentally with her nose. Carol waited. It was gonna be perfect.

    Goose’s mouth snapped open and tentacles cascaded from deep in her throat. She gobbled up the French Toast in seconds, doing it so quickly that (Y/N) barely saw it. The kid knew the stories about the Flerken, though. The Avengers did not.

    “Jesus--” Bruce gasped out when the tentacles disappeared.

    All of them were wide-eyed and fearful, some even backing up a little ways away.

    (Y/N) giggled at Rhodey’s face particularly. “I told you she wasn’t a cat! Goose is a Flerken! Isn’t that right, Goosey?”

    Goose rubbed her chin against the girl’s outstretched hand, purring up a storm. “Mrow!”

    “Okay, that I get Fury having as a pet,” he whispered. “That’s freaky. That’s-- that’s terrifying is what that is.”

Masterlist

[ditchin]

11 Questions

This shit again

S/o to @selftitledegomaniac for tagging me & asking me questions!

Rules: 1. Always post the rules 2. Answer the 11 questions they ask you 3. Ask your 11 questions that you make 4. Tag people to answer your q’s

Questions: 1. would you like to be famous? in what way and why? fuck yeah I wanna be rich as HELL it’d be cool if it was bc of some amazing humane act

2. what are you most grateful for? Being vaguely emotionally stable

3. make up a six word story about your life No thanks this takes too long

4. if you could know the absolute truth about one thing ( about yourself, life, the universe, whatever) what would you want to know? Is it possible to be truly happy with yourself?

5. what is your greatest accomplishment? One time I stayed up for 36 hours straight

6. what does love and friendship mean to you? snart snart snart snart snart

7. if you were to die today, without being able to communicate with others, what would you most regret not telling somebody? Not making up with anyone I’m frustrated at

8. your house catches fire. you saved your loved ones and pets. you have time to save one item. what would you save? if I could save my record player thatd b great but I don’t think that’d be possible, so probably our nearest object from greece

9. what is your most embarrassing moment? I can’t decide between “dating a furry” or “stepping on jay’s French horn and crying about it” or “confusing the difference between mellophone and trumpet” or “blast-playing the john cena theme while walking to the pit with jay” anyways 2015 was a wild year

10. what is your most treasured memory, worst memory, and weirdest random memory that you have no idea why you remember? Treasured: ok I have a lot for this too but I’ll just pick one, probably marching band comps as a freshman. Everything was so new and fun and I felt like I belonged Worst memory: sorry I suddenly can’t read Weirdest: you know Victorious the TV show? In one of the first episodes her mom makes her try this shaving cream and she has to hold her arms over her head for most of the episode

11. what super power do you want the most? Pause time tbh that’d be so great I’d just pause everything, sleep for 50 years, and go back to normal

My questions :~) 1. Kill your best friend or marry your worst enemy (no divorces)?

2. If you had to knife fight either me or hannah montana who’d you knife fight

3. If you could work at any retail store/restaurant/whatever where would you work & why

4. If you could b any other zodiac sign which would you be & why

5. If you could remove all people of 1 zodiac sign from the planet what would you remove & why

6. do you keep a journal? what do you write about?//why not?

7. snart snart snart snart

8. I’m using this to procrastinate practicing (kill me), what’re you procrastinating? (You can’t say practicing I already took that answer fuck you)

9. What were you doing right before you started answering this?

10. Class you’re looking forward to the most next year & why?

11. do you ever get words stuck in your head? I do. Mine rn is snart bc of that one shitpost. Anyways if u do what words/phrases were most recently stuck in your head? If you don’t then what lyrics were most recently stuck in ur head? If u wanna answer both then answer both idc

(Now I have a bonus question for each person :)) (try to guess who is whom)

Bonus question for sk8r boi: knife fight, marry, fuck: Evan, Kale, Gerry from the Lou Boys, why?

Bonus question for daddy vader: listen. listen. hsm is better than the lorax

Bonus question for bandaid boy: plants for hands or hands for plants? why?

Bonus question for good bit: what’s the smoothest thing you’ve ever said (if it’s been to jade it doesn’t count)

Ok yall I’m tagging @marxistlangblr @space-ceo @tbhjay @kinky-clarinetist

I mean technically you fuckers don’t have to do this but you better

[zenonaa]

2,3,4,7,8,9,19,22,28,29,32 (i already know the answer tho, lol), 37!

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

i’ve done this before once but i would love to write a fic where the POV either can’t see or hear. it’d be a fun challenge.

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

ones where my otp cheat on each other. >_>

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

@polafuka​ asked me to write a tofu-focused one shot based on And I Would Do It Again and she said she would write it herself with some fuka/hina added in if i didn’t. :O though i said i’d add some of that in for her

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

ok i’m going to cut to a readmore bc the next snippet is LONG

Dark Grey Eyes (nsfw)

Part of him had hoped what he felt was a phase. Part of him still hoped what he felt was a phase despite however much time had elapsed. Or that it was a symptom of some illness. Or anything else because no one in the Togami family ever actually felt about another person what he might have felt at that moment - a strange stirring in his chest he always thought to be nausea, supplemented by those dark grey eyes. Not just those eyes but the body they belonged to.

Then again, the rest of the Togami family was dead.

Without him noticing, that nausea - that disgust - had developed into something else... or he finally learned to recognise it for what it was. But he regarded it as weakness nonetheless, even now. It was illogical. Irrational. Wrong. Feeling attachment to someone. It was wrong. Caring. Wanting. Bonding. It was wrong because feeling that way was a distraction and a liability.

Well. So he assumed until the final trial, where Makoto personified hope and brought the remaining students together into a powerful force that overcame the mastermind’s despair. On top of that, the growing closeness of Makoto and Kyouko Kirigiri suggested his view on these sorts of relationships may have been too harsh and hastily made. May have been.

Byakuya balled his fists.

No matter how often he tried to convince himself that he jumped to an incorrect conclusion about what he felt, or that he was above such things, he had still willingly slept with Touko Fukawa and he thought about her more than he should. In that he thought about her at all, like now - he thought about her persistence and loyalty and determination and strength, for she had made it through the mutual killings and the ordeal with Komaru Naegi and everything else. In fact, her love for him had made her stronger, it seemed, and he was beginning to think that love didn't make people weaker after all. Then there was her lewdness and her self-satisfied smiles that nearly always grated on his nerves, but there also existed what lay behind her stuttering and fidgeting that up to now he only glimpsed, and he almost thought he saw a bit of himself in there, and there was her intelligence as well, and her-!

He stopped himself there.

... i like it because i wrote this way back in late 2014 and as more details on dr/ae came out, all i had to do was edit in examples. the characterisation stayed the same. and it’s just.... i love.

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Pink Candy (nsfw)

“What were you expecting?” he eventually asked. He turned his face away, pouting. “A box of chocolates?”

“It’s-! B-B-Byakuya-sama’s-!” She peeked, pupils dilated. “It’s so... did I do th-that?” He refused to dignify her question with a response. “I g-get to t-touch it?”

they’re such nerds tbh and togami’s second question is so funny to me.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

hm... elusive is/was actually pretty hard to write at times. i remember wanting to give it up after the first few chapters and if i wasn’t writing it for maddie, i would have. i’m glad i didn’t give it up though.

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

I STILL DON'T KNOW. but if i see tofu stuffs, then i do generally get more inspired to write. even if it's not tofu-related.

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

She inhaled but then remembering his last remark, she squeaked and slapped her palm over her mouth. In a muffled voice, she said, “I was wondering whether," she lowered her hand, “maybe,” she fidgeted, “I could possibly,” she gulped, “sleep wi… with,” she blushed, “with y-you?”

“No,” he said right away. The bed creaked as he lay down. “Now begone. Find a bit of floor to curl up on.”

Touko twitched. “B-But it’s dirty!”

“I don't see the problem. It’s a match made in heaven, surely.”

“I m-might cut myself! A-And bleed!” Touko clamped her eyes shut, buried her fingers in her hair and shook her head wildly. “A-And when I see it in the morning… the bl-blood… I’ll-! I’ll-!”

Another pause. Longer than before. Could pauses be longer than other pauses? Like how some laters seemed laterer than other laters, and some laters ended up being so late they turned into nevers? Did those warped laters even qualify as laters?

This later remained a later, and the pause just a pause. Byakuya didn't turn around to face her but said, “If you stay on the other side of the bed and shut up, you may… join me.”

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

this will be three OF them, because i probably have more. there's @die-einzelganger who like... writes so well and english isn't her first language. emotions show in her writing, her characterisation is great and she is full of great descriptions and phrases and i aspire to be as good as her one day. also ikuzonos who writes such spot on togafuka and they're still pretty young yet so talented too?? i love their ikuzono fics too and their fics got me into that ship tbh. finally, there's maddie!!! she is really creative and working on a pandora hearts au for dangan ronpa and she puts so much thought into her works and i love them.

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

someone was writing a non-despair fic and they seemed to just be getting to the tofu when they discontinued it. 3 i remember that hina accidentally got caught indecently dressed and then everyone decided to wear their underwear to make her feel better and hagakure tried to make it even by exposing himself. asahina was going to give togami secret swimming lessons too.

32. How do you feel about smut?

i love it as long as it isn't over the top or have gross kinks. even badly written ones for my otp make me smile.

37. Talk about your current wips.

i really need to start the next chapter of elusive... also i'm 300 words into a request where naeg/iri and togafuka double date.

PHEW!!! if you got to the end, well done!! and thank you!