#the friend that died was from the neighborhood group I was really involved with as a teenager

[raygender]

.

[should-know-better]

An interview from Italian Rolling Stone Magazine which I put through Google Translate.

- Note how Alex says that Sweet Dreams TN is about a beautiful Mexican girl 🤔

- Also how Alex is self deprecating about his nose 🥺

Fooling around with the Last Shadow Puppets

Alex Turner, frontman of Arctic Monkeys, and Miles Kane are more like brothers than friends, and they introduce us to the new album by stealing each other's jokes.

25 April 2016. Di Silvia Danielli

They look at each other secretly and burst out laughing, one finishes the other's sentence, from one word they begin to remember a thousand anecdotes about them. They call it bromance, that friendship between two people of the male sex so strong that it resembles a romantic brotherhood. Once upon a time, Bruce Springsteen and his saxophonist Clarence Clemons were a clear example of this, while in the Hollywood field it is Brad Pitt and George Clooney or Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. Alex Turner and Miles Kane, both recently thirty, of The Last Shadow Puppets are no less so.

Some classify it only as the side project of Turner, frontman of Arctic Monkeys, others see its potential. Turner and Kane, the latter in the Rascals and Little Flames and now a soloist for a few years, met at a concert in 2005 and since then "have never left each other". In their free time, obviously, because Arctic Monkeys are a group with a high maintenance rate with a fan base worthy of a boy band and Last Shadow Puppets represent, after all, the time for messing around. In these years they have only produced the album The Age of the Understatement in 2008 and now Everything You've Come to Expect. The proportions, however, could also be reversed: AM are currently at a standstill, TLSP have recently started a long world tour (with two dates in Italy: July 5 in Ferrara and July 6 in Milan) and they already have the last chapter of this ideal trilogy ready (even if they still don't know when it will be released).

We meet them in a boutique hotel in London and it’s 9.30 in the morning. Early for them, very early in fact. Alex is the first to arrive and, even with his eyes rumpled and his quiff ruffled, he is still elegant. Like a new crooner, one might say, in tune with the general mood of TLSP. He starts interviewing me: “Where have you been in London these two days? Where did you eat your Sunday roast? Do you like Saint Paul’s?” After asking him in turn and finding out that he has a house in London, that on Sunday he was also in the Islington neighborhood for the ritual of the roast at the pub with friends and that the ghostly atmosphere of Saint Paul’s Cathedral scares him, Miles arrives and apologizes for the delay. I immediately sense that interviewing two subjects suffering from a bromance at the same time will be anything but simple.

Turner and Kane have both left England (Turner is from Sheffield and Miles from Birkenhead) to live in Los Angeles, so they have even more anecdotes to share, without involving the third wheel (me). They recorded this new album at Shangri-La Studios in Malibu, once Bob Dylan’s and now Rick Rubin’s. They certainly had a pretty good time during that time: “Well, you know, having the Pacific Ocean in front of you all the time gives you a certain energy. Nothing like recording the previous album in the north of France. We also had lots of friends who came to visit us while we were in the studio. And we never went to the beach, you know, otherwise we would have been too distracted. Anyway, that air, the moonlight, the romantic atmosphere…” They laugh. And any chance of bringing them back to a more serious tone is lost forever. They steal each other’s jokes, like when they swear that in L.A. they go to bed early, “because, you know, we wake up really early.” Looks of understanding. And they say they only get pissed off for “fundamental” reasons: “For example, when we both want to wear white shoes in the evening. Even now, I arrived late because I had to change, for example,” Miles explains.

Back on track with Everything You’ve Come to Expect, they say they once again used James Ford (also in Simian Mobile Disco) on drums, Zach Dawes of Mini Mansions on bass and Owen Pallett on strings, but this time they limited the references to Scott Walker: «We chose him for his ability to use strings and transform the pieces into ideal soundtracks, but this time it went differently: we tried to give it a more personal touch». Like the first album, however, this one also seems like a soundtrack with a dreamlike atmosphere. And they reiterate it, using the word dream in two titles: The Dream Synopsis and Sweet Dreams. «Yes, you know, dreams are important, don’t you think?», Alex sneers. Apart from everything else, Sweet Dreams, where Alex brings out his best crooning skills, is remarkable. «It’s the only love song on the album, you know? Dedicated to this Mexican girl, very beautiful…», and he starts singing.

The two have defined the sound of this album as halfway between the Beatles and the Fast and Furious. The first reference is evident in some songs (in the title track, for example), but for the second I ask for explanations: perhaps it applies to the first single they chose, Bad Habits, which is the most rhythmic, quite different from the others and reminiscent of the Strokes. «It could be, some of the Strokes' albums were really fundamental for us, and we still like them». In fact, the video of the two of them at the Strokes concert in New York last summer, while they happily dance to Barely Legal in Hyde Park, went viral in a short time. Like the photos that portray them with it girls, from Alexa Chung to Suki Waterhouse, or the models of the moment, to the delight of the English gossip newspapers. Tombeur de femmes? They laugh. Surely fans of the genre, to the point of choosing sensual women for the covers of their albums, like for the latest one, where there is a young Tina Turner. “Always better,” Alex concludes, “than putting my nose on the cover, don’t you think?”

[knee-stockings]

So I’ve been listening to lots of podcasts at work lately to break up the monotony of my office job. Mainly they’re horror, suspense/thriller, drama, that kind of thing. Trying to give ratings without spoilers~

(Check out updated pod recs here)

The Left Right Game (a journalist investigating an urban legend that gets increasingly more dangerous as they go): 5/5, this being one of the first ones I listened to set the bar really high tbh, it was great, immersive sound design, genuinely suspenseful and creepy moments, interesting plot, my only gripe is that I didn’t love the ending but I couldn’t dock a star just for that, highly recommend, maybe I’ll retire to Wintry Bay someday 

Alice Isn’t Dead (delivery trucker goes searching for her believed dead wife, comes across supernatural towns and creatures and a conspiracy that goes way deeper than one missing woman): 5/5, so so good, enjoyed a lot, I loved learning the truth about the Thistle men, still don’t completely understand oracles but that’s okay, some delightfully creepy moments, this will be high on my recommendation list (also it’s by the Welcome to Night Vale people, which I actually haven’t listened to lmao)

Harley Quinn and the Joker: Sound Mind (it’s a Harley Quinn origin story basically): 5/5, very enjoyable, sound design great, plot was fun, I don’t know how accurate this story is to the original Harley Quinn origin story but I liked this a lot

The Burned Photo (two women try to fight a familial curse haunting their bloodlines): 4/5, not bad at all, I thought the sound design was great and immersive but I thought the monster’s voice was a bit goofy idk, the plot wasn’t bad though ofc it was pretty bittersweet and sad in the end, tho I think it was never going to be happy for everyone involved

Blackwood (group of teens investigate the town urban legend and uncover more than they bargained for): I can’t decide…3.5 maybe? It was okay. I didn’t love it or hate it, I’m pretty neutral about it. It was interesting enough

Gaslight (girl goes missing and then reappears to her best friend years later with little explanation): 3/5, feels like there should be another season, wasn’t as dramatic/suspenseful as I thought it would be (maybe that’s my own fault tho, from the description and stuff I thought there would be more to it)

Ice-Cream (teens suspect the friendly neighborhood ice cream man of abducting little kids and uncover a dark secret): 4.5/5, interesting and a lil creepy, there’s something oddly funny about hearing someone scream “fuck you Beelzebub” even in context, sound design is pretty good and voice acting is great, finale was also pretty good but I’m docking half a star bc of that very last bit and bc I said so, overall short n’ sweet, no pun intendo (I’m kinda glad that it’s only the one season and not super long, gives the feeling of not overstaying its welcome. Also in awe that they made it within like a month, gonna go listen to their other podcast Cascadia too)

Cascadia (submarine expedition to uncharted waters, gone wrong, we almost died!?): 5/5, by the Ice-Cream people so I expected great sound design and voice acting and said expectations were met tbh, yes god love the drama, ocean depths are inherently scary to me so this is top tier horror, season one was chef’s kiss beautiful and I heard season 2 is coming so I’ll be waiting eagerly for that

Listening now:

Within the Wires (season 1 is relaxation cassette tapes from another world, season 2 is a guided museum tour I think): also by the WTNV people, interesting so far, the plot that unfolded in the first season was cool to watch as it played out, but also I am so sad. I like it so far

Rabbits (girl goes searching for her friend who disappeared because of this mysterious Rabbits game): feels like a really slow start after a few episodes, I kinda wanna get to more action soon please

Wake of Corrosion (apocalypse where characters are trying to find other survivors and also answers): mild shrug, not sure what to make of it just yet. Only like 2 episodes in so I think I need to give it a bit

Ars Paradoxica (scientist accidentally invents time travel and is thrown back to the 1940s): pretty interesting so far, science is fun 

Spoiler comment for Cascadia under the cut bc it's the one I just finished and I have Thoughts

As much as I enjoyed Cascadia, when I think about the expedition for more than 2 seconds I get confused. Not the whole alien thing, that’s fine, it’s Badger and Maria and their ulterior motives. Why in the world did Badger spend millions of dollars to make a submarine that’s faulty on purpose? And there was so much media coverage around it so the second something went wrong reporters were practically beating him over the head with microphones, so why risk so much bad press? Plus sacrificing three other talented divers who trusted him with their lives??? That’s the most confusing to me. There’s no way Badger foresaw them getting attacked underwater and losing Declan alone, so he must have been fully prepared to lose captain AND crew. Holden said that he saw Badger as a father, and yet he chose Holden to die? He said he handpicked them, so what did Holden, Alia, or Iris ever do to him to deserve being sent on a suicide mission? Doing all this just to get rid of Declan and be with Maria doesn’t feel right. Feels like there should be something more there. Tldr: surely Badger had another reason for conducting the suicide mission, right? Also since season 2 starts with Lila all grown up, a diver just like her father, I wanna know her opinions of her mother and of Badger. Did she learn about her mother’s betrayal? Is Badger still involved in funding deep sea diving or did the FBI take him out of that? Omg who’s the father of her little sibling…I’m so curious…

[coffbeanie]

Decided to post some EJ hcs i’ve been sitting on-not sure how much of these are just me just repeating canon. They’re more like notes I took while relistening to the story and trying to answer my own question

Anyways just remember their hcs and ur welcome to think differently-this is just all in good fun

Enjoy!! <3

-Jack and Chernabog are now forced to inhabit one body

-Jack can keep Chernabog down by eating humans organs-he chooses kidneys because he can take them without killing his victims-he steals the materials he needs and uses his schooling to take them without causing much damage. Since we only need one to live, he takes one and leaves the other.

-When Jack doesn’t eat, Chernabog takes over. This results in physical changes-he becomes much larger, sharper fangs, a more muzzle like nose, pointier teeth, larger hands with sharper fingers, tar dripping down his eyes, and his legs turn into hind legs reminiscent of a lion (or honestly any other predatory mammal)

-In this state, he follows the scent of blood and will eat anyone who crosses his path, leaving nothing but bones. He will keep eating until he is satisfied, where he once again lets Jack take over

-He’ll take people’s cars and drive to different neighborhoods (townhouses, apartments) to stock up on kidneys and see what's going on in the world-then drive to a woodland area to hide and eat. Sometimes he’ll steal kidneys from any campers that happen to be nearby. He moves frequently and at this point has lived in many different states. He’ll also just sleep in abandoned buildings

Now for some bigger picture thingies :))

-The cult at the college specifically was started by Jenny. She felt that what she read in her books was real, and started to spread this idea to her friends, who spread it to their friends, which led to the creation of the cult. They believed that they had to summon Chernabog, as he would release them from the suffering of life. As they satisfied his hungry spirit, he would, in return, lead them to paradise.

-People in the school weren’t really aware of this. The most people saw was this group of friends going into the woods to hang out, and they would sometimes make a bonfire, but nothing more. Even if people saw it as a cult, they never took it seriously-just some people worshiping some fake demon. They haven’t done anything wrong, so why should they care?

-The cult aspect of this story brought it to a national news level, putting a highlight on secret societies at different universities. However, the story died down, though it was still talked about for months later on a local level as the authorities tried to find out who killed the cult members

-Jack is still the primary suspect, seeing as his roommate could support his going to the meeting, and as his body was not found in the massacre. It’s also assumed that he took the missing cult mask. However, the one detail that lowers Jack’s possibility as a suspect are the claw and bite marks of the victims-the scratch marks are obviously from an animal with claws, and the bites are from a creature with sharper teeth than a human, which leads to the possibility that it could have just been an attack by some wild animals, even though wild animals with those characteristics are not native to the area

-The attack was first reported by Greg, his roommate. He knew Jack was there and was the first to see the massacre. Greg, along with Jack’s parents, still deny he had any part in the Cult Massacre. Greg insists that Jack would never hurt anyone, and he was way too focused on school to get involved in that cult stuff seriously. Jack’s parents were proud of their son and the bright future he seemed to have ahead of him-they’re still waiting for him to come home.

-When Jack first started taking kidneys, many of his early victims died as he did not have access to the proper materials and was not used to performing these at home surgeries. As he continued, the mortality rate of his victims went down, though there was still a chance they would die. It was easy for investigators to link these to one person, due to the trend of taking one kidney.

-In between these were cases of people being brutally mauled to death. It was first assumed that it was a person assisted by some kind of animal, as the state of the bodies afterwards had markings made by some kind of animal (though the specific animal was never pinned down, it was just obvious they weren’t human), but doors were still unlocked, and windows were opened, which suggested that a human had to have been involved

-The connection between these two crimes were made after Mitch’s (the mc from the original EJ story) story was released-it got both attention not just on national media, but also on the internet. Both the stories of people waking up with just one kidney, and people being brutally mauled were now connected and could be attributed to one person, though this only confused investigators more, due to his two methods of killing, the now lack of clear motive, the inclusion of now possibly cannibalistic tendencies, and questions as to how this person could have left claw and bite marks similar to that of an animal

-People later reached out to Mitch afterwards online, thanking him for his bravery in posting his story. The people were either victims of this mysterious killer, or knew someone who was attacked by him. This led to a small support group on the Internet where people talked about their experience with him, and how it affected their life. Most victims have moved to less wooded areas, more in city areas, in fear that he might come back for them.

-There is a small subgroup of people on the internet that connected this animalistic cannibal to the Cult Massacre story. They dubbed the name “Eyeless Jack” as they believe that Jackson Novikov of the Cult Massacre story is the same person in Mitch’s story. The blue mask is similar to the mask of the cultists, it was revealed that Jackson was in med school which explains the in-home surgeries, and the state the cultists were left in is similar to how some of Jack’s victims are left. Few are quick to believe this, seeing it as only a conspiracy theory.

-Investigators have come to predict where their cannibal will strike next, as medical supplies from hospitals will have been reported stolen a few days before someone would report either being a victim of the cannibal, or knowing someone who was attacked by the cannibal. This has led to an increase in stolen materials from hospitals and other medical facilities, and after a few too close for comfort run ins with the police, Jack has learned to move around before making his attack, though this has led to a increase in attacks that resembles ones done by Chernabog

If u read through all that u should share ur ej hcs with me :)))

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Ah! Valentine’s Day! What better time to share relics from romances past….

Um, WAY past! LOL

The first romance involved a shockingly older man. Okay, boy instead of man. He was all of 7 and I was a mere 4yr old. As you can see, he wrote me my first “love letter”. He knew how to get to the point.

Oh he was so cute, tall with sparkling eyes, golden hair, and big teeth, but he was also fun.

He once tried to pull a prank on me with a trick pack of gum that would snap your finger. I may have been little, but saw through it and refused. My grandmother chided me for saying no, that it wasn’t polite. I still refused, saying it was a trick. He laughed, grinning ear to ear, and told my grandmother I was absolutely right. He even demonstrated the snap on his own finger.

You know, the way he smiled at me when I saw through the trick and said no was so beautiful, like the sun shinning on me. It was pure delight. We both knew the trick without saying anything, sharing a private knowledge that others standing right there didn’t get. He actually loved I was smart. I think I have spent the rest of my life chasing after that kind of smile. The most romantic thing I can imagine is someone’s eyes sparkling as we both “get” something.

Once his grandparents died he stopped visiting the neighborhood, but I remembered him with incredible affection. Unfortunately when I finally saw him again we were both in high school things were very, very different. He was now one of the cool kids and I was the fat, ugly, introverted geek. I don’t think he spoke to me once, and would avert his eyes if we started to face each other.

Still, even if teenage Michael wasn’t even friend material, I will always love 7yr old Michael.

Now this doll is even more dear to me, because the boy was even dearer to me. I’s even go so far as to say Stacy was my first real love.

I’m sure I’ve written about Stacy. I was the older woman here, a year older and more than a head taller, though I don’t think either of us ever seemed to notice that. He was smart (I guess a given with my weakness for smarts) and fiery tempered. But it wan’t a violent sort of fiery temper, let me be clear about that. It was more like blow up fights that he always apologized for. He was the only boy I ever knew that would, all on his own, say he was sorry and absolutely mean it. He was a total sweetheart, temper or not.

Stacy was the kind of boy that made me really notice what a boy looked like. All these years later I remember the way his eyes always twinkled with mischief and crinkled when he smiled. I remember the little birthmark dimple at the corner of his eye, the eyelashes as thick and dark as a deer, the skin that was always warm, always brown as dry leaves, and smelled like the woods. I can remember walking behind him on a summer day and being mesmerized by how his shoulder blades moved as he walked shirtless and shoeless on the too hot street.

I remember his voice and his laugh and every contour of his body even after all the other boys have faded in my memory to names and vague shapes like ghosts of who they were.

Back the there were a pack of us kids running wild in the neighborhood. Children were allowed to be naturally feral creatures back then, and it was glorious. I was the only girl in the group, which TBH is nothing like how fiction has depicted it.

Honestly fiction made me miserable, thinking there were rules about these thing. Fiction said, or at least I thought it did, that when there is one girl and several guys the girl has to marry one. The problem wasn’t that I thought I was destined to marry one if the boys, it’s who I thought it had to be.

See, this is where I thought there were rules. I thought it had to be the “leader”, and since we didn’t exactly have one (leader shifting depending on who was hanging out that day) there were the “like with like” rules. That meant as second oldest, with college educated parents, I’d have to marry the oldest boy who, unlike the others, also had college grad parents….

The boy I fought with all the time. The sexist boy that pretended he didn’t know me at school for the sake of status. The boy with the skin as cold, pale, and damp as the underbelly of a cat fish.

I remember crying when it occurred to me what fate lay ahead. I didn’t want to marry Jeff, I wanted to marry Stacy!

Obviously I was just confused by fiction. Actual fate has ended up with me married to no one. Oh well.

So I adored him, and he seemed especially fond me too. Not that either of us would have dreamed of saying that word “love”. We were little kids, safe from all the anxiety over what what we felt and whether it would be requited. Grownups worried about that sort of thing.

One year my birthday rolled around and I got a tangible bit of proof of his affection for me.

Now understand, I wasn’t expecting anything from any of the boys. There was an understood rule that none of the kids gave you gifts unless you had a party, and even then everyone knew the Mom’s picked the gifts. The boys themselves never, ever gave you a gift.

Stacy rushed over that day, I mean rushed, with a sense of purpose. He called me over behind my family’s car, where the other boys wouldn’t see us. In his hand was a present.

Oh he was so excited! He smiling, so eager for me to unwrap it that for a little you would think he would blurt out what it was before I could finish. I had NEVER seen any of the boys looking so proud and happy. I talked in one long explosion of words. He’d wanted to give me a birthday present, he’d picked it out himself, it was the most beautiful doll they had, did I like….and he looked up at me with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes, so hopeful and expectant.

The doll was a dollar store type doll, thin plastic with the hair only attached at the very top of the head, and at the time just wearing a blue bikini poorly stitched (the clothes in the pic were made by my cousin). It’s makeup was a bit like Stacy’s Mom, so I figured that’s why he was drawn to it. If you had pointed to the doll on a shelf and asked me what I thought I wouldn’t have used the word beautiful.

But it was. It was beautiful because he thought it was beautiful. He had thought of me and picked out just for me. He had even risked mocking by the other boys to give me this doll. Of course it was beautiful. Love makes everything beautiful!

I haven’t seen Stacy since I was 9. I moved out to the farm and he moved away. It’s been decades, and yet I still miss him, this best friend that had claimed a special corner of my heart. And you know what, I will probably still think of him until the day I do. You don’t just forget people that make you feel loved.

[techmomma]

I was in sixth grade when 9/11 happened. I think I'd recently turned twelve. Some people say 9/11 was one of those "flashbulb moments" where you can remember exactly what you were doing when it happened, but all that I really remember is we were scared, but we were in California. The chances of something happening there too were low, but we understood something horrific was happening on the other side of the country.

I can't say I was the greatest, most compassionate twelve-year-old. I think I was angrier that a group of girls I thought were my friends told everyone that I was crushing on some boy than I was about our country being attacked. Which my little ace ass was not crushing on him, but was probably fawning over him because I was a messed up little twelve-year-old and he was vaguely nice to me.

I do remember, however, the feeling of something being wrong. Not wrong in a great moral sense, but the logic we were being told just didn't add up. In the weeks after 9/11, when they started the invasion of Iraq, I do remember thinking that it didn't make any sense to do so.

The hijackers were already dead. The ones who did the crime were couldn't even be prosecuted.

And we knew, early on, that none of the hijackers were Iraqi. We knew, early on, that they had ties to Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan, who had ties to Saudi Arabia or something like that. None of which really seemed to involve Iraq other than "Saddam Hussein is evil!" as they said ad nauseum. The links between Iraq and 9/11 were, from the start, flimsy at best and nonexistent at worst. Even at twelve, though I didn't understand the moral depravity of it, I understood that was weird logic. And most importantly, for my little autistic ass, no one explained in a way that satisfied me. (This was their downfall, frankly.)

And then the images started coming out of the bombing campaign in Iraq.

It felt even less logical. I don't remember them, but I was old enough to have lived at the same time as a few other terrorist attacks like the Oklahoma City Bombing (I think my mom talked about that one a lot when it happened. I think she worked in a similar building that also had a daycare she took me to and it affected her a lot at the time.) And I remembered that when those happened, there were giant manhunts and police chases and fears about hostages and whatever.

But we didn't bomb neighborhoods to take out one guy though. Or even to take out a cell of guys.

But here we were. America was bombing what felt like an unrelated location, and even then I understood that you can't like. Bomb a city. Without killing a lot of fucking civilians.

I think we had also recently (within the last few years) learned about WWII and the Holocaust, and had learned about all the civilians killed as a result of bombing indiscriminately. So for every tragic news story about the latest American soldier death, they'd say "some civilians were killed" if they even mentioned civilians. Most of the time, soldiers died and nothing at all was said of Iraqi citizens, not till many years later. It all felt very one-sided (which it was) and none of that sat well with me.

So I guess I started doing my own research into Islam, SWANA countries, the people that America was fighting this war against.

I've also always been a contrary little shit since birth so when people tell me one thing, I have a kneejerk reaction to do the opposite or disprove them, so unfortunately at the time it was probably less about being morally upstanding and more about wanting to rub it in everyone's faces that I knew more than them.

And then I learned about the cultures. The people, the history, and especially, the art. The calligraphy, the geometric designs like manmade kaleidoscopes enraptured me, and I had to know more and more.

I doubt I was articulate enough to consciously understand it, but I think deep down I understood that, surely, a people who can make art this beautiful cannot be as bad as everyone was trying to portray them.

I also knew that Arabic calligraphy was made of words, and fuck, I wanted to know what the pretty art was saying.

It was a short ride from that to realizing how fucked up the war was, to understanding I wanted to do everything I could to combat the rampant Islamophobia that persists to this day.

I found such great beauty in the religion, the culture, the language, and the people. And it felt only right to show everyone the beauty that I saw.

As someone who grew up in a very recently post 9/11 USA and had to do this myself, I'd like to hear how the rest of you started deconstructing the islamaphobic rhetoric we've been fed our whole lives.

I remember one specific incident, I dont remember anyones name, where a young girl had written a book and was invited on the news to talk about it. She sat down, all excited and happy, about as young as I was, maybe a few years older (I was about 8 or 9, this would have been 2008 or 2009) all ready to share her story and how she had written it with the world. And the woman who interviewed her started it out by asking her "do you condem 9/11"

All the happiness instantly leaked out of her face and was replaced by genuine fear. THEY (the adults) were scaring HER (young child) and everyone expected me to believe they acted like that because muslims are scary and evil. Even at that young age I understood why she would be scared. By asking her if she comdemned it, they subtly implied she has something to do with it. She now has to defend herself against random, unrealistic, ludicrous, unfair claims about a terrorist attack shes too young to personally remember. I knew she HAD to respond to these things calm and measured, she HAD to keep her cool or they'd have painted her as some crazy pyscho. She tried to explain she was to young to remember or have had anything at all to do with this, but the interviewer threw a large and noticeable bitch fit demanding she condemned it verbally. And so she did.

Never once did that interviewer though. Never once do any of them. The grown adults, old enough to have had something to do with it. Old enough to have sent support to Osama Bin Laden and Al-Qaeda. Old enough to have been an informant or a spy. They never condemned him or his actions. In fact as I grew to notice, it was only okay to ask muslim people that, and deeply DEEPLY offensive to even suggest that they the interviewers do.

She never got to talk about her book. The demands of the interviewer wasted all the time.

In less specific examples, I remember random muslim people I saw asked this question on the news or random street interviews would answer calmy and concisely even if their anger was obvious. In an admireable show of self-control they'd keep their cool and not go off on the interviewer.

I always felt it was disrespectfull to the dead to do that. Dragging their memories up and waving them around in the face of these random people because they shared a religion with someone evil. They died horrificly, some people burning, some jumping, many being crushed to death. It didnt need to be treated like a Q&A moment everytime someone had an obviously muslim person in their presence.

Eventually it just began to click that the fall of the twin towers, the hijacking of the planes, the deaths of all 2,996 people wasnt the issue these people had. They cared about loudly hating muslim people and the deaths of those people provided a nice excuse to do it for 20 years publicly.

[sie-rui]

hey ok so imagine this

You and Mikey are dating right, but he keeps it secret cuz he doesn’t want other gangs to target u and he doesnt want u getting hurt right? Ok ok but Mikey secretly has fan girls cuz I mean he’s good looking.

Then outta no where like uhh 2-3 pick me girls that are in the same friend group transfer to ur school and they act like they suddenly run the place. And I wanna mention that ur like uhm the popular girl of the school cuz we’ll s/o is cool 😕👍🏼 anyways They dont know abt mikeys reputation right. And everyone’s like “hey hey if u don’t wanna die don’t talk to him” but they’re pick mes so they don’t listen RIGHT

AND THEN they’re like “hey he’s cute let’s flirt” and u suddenly show up and show them who’s boss and like fight them outta jealousy or smt and they run crying. A few weeks later they find out mikeys reputation and they avoid him scared outta their minds. MIKEY WOULD PROBABALY BE AMUSED TOO

LIKE LIKE IDEK IT WAS JS A RANDOM THOUGHT THAT CAME TO MY MIND THE OTHER DAY IDEK IF IT MAKES SNESE LMAO anyways I’m sorry if this is too detailed or if it’s too complicated 😭

❀ THE LINE | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 sano manjiro 💿 female reader, second pov (you/your), tw: violence, jealousy, established relationship, au - everyone lives / nobody dies, timeline: highschool, imagine 📅 june 29, 2021 🔗 masterlist ,, sent by mikeysboba

sano manjiro’s s/o is his alone just like how he is his s/o’s alone. that’s just how it is. some people don’t understand that.

You heard about the new transfer students next door the moment they arrived. You were respected in school and were well-liked so the news reached you fast since everyone is usually excited to tell you something or they’re always happy to share something with you if you ask.

…Also because of the students’ reputation.

There were two of them, both from the same school and neighborhood and apparently childhood friends as well. They transferred for some reason that none of the staff disclosed which you could respect since it’s their privacy after all.

Their reputation… isn’t the best.

To put it simply, they were entitled bitches who’s acting as if they created the school with their bare hands and they raised the students so everyone should respect them. Also because they insulted this nice girl in their class for telling off a male student for cheating. Apparently, they took the boy’s side who was clearly in the wrong and insulted the girl. (One of the transferees ended up flirting with said male student so everyone understood immediately.)

You could only sigh and thank whoever is up there that they didn’t end up in your class.

You spoke too soon.

“I’m sorry, Y/n-san! We tried to warn them to not approach him because of his… reputation but they didn’t listen,” one of your classmates said apologetically with his head hanging low.

You could only pat his shoulder, flashing him a smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with them to make sure no one gets hurt.”

“Are you sure? Mikey-kun isn’t really… the best person out there and you- you could get hurt,” he stammers, lips in a frown and brows furrowed in worry.

You only shake your head, waving dismissively as you chuckle, turning around to go to the classroom. “I’ll be fine, just keep everyone out and I’ll handle the collateral.” Or maybe I’ll cause it, we’ll see when I get there.

No one really knew about your relationship with Mikey. It was kept secret since he didn’t want you getting too involved with Touman, he preferred keeping you away to keep you safe and so that you could live a simple gang-free life which you’re thankful for. You’re planning on getting in a good high school and you really can’t afford getting distracted.

Even if your relationship isn’t public, no one really does usually approach Mikey despite his pretty face. Mostly because of his reputation as Touman’s President, also because he was mean to anyone that tried to flirt with him… Perhaps also because he beat up a senior that challenged him two years ago in his first year. He may be smiling but all students just labelled him dangerous and tended to steer out of his path. Everyone just knew better after that.

Everyone except the two idiotic transferees. According to your classmate, they tried telling them off, trying to stop them from approaching the sleeping blond in your classroom, but of course they wouldn’t listen. What else did you expect?

Your classmates just ran out of the classroom after that, leaving those two alone with the half-lucid Mikey. It was break time anyway. (Even if it wasn’t, you’re sure that the teachers wouldn’t mind knowing how impulsive Mikey sometimes is.) So, here you are, returning from the restroom to see everyone outside the door, either covering their eyes, snickering, or just sighing, some were even thinking of calling an ambulance.

You just took up the job of dealing with the collateral first-hand since you seemed to be the only person Mikey loved talking to other than Draken. Everyone just thought that it was because of your charm and not even Mikey could be immune to it.

Speaking of Draken, that poor guy got dragged by Baji earlier because of some stupid shit he and Chifuyu stirred. Mikey was supposed to go with them but he refused to wake up so Draken just left him alone, giving you a sorry look.

You can’t help but sigh as you slide open the door, ignoring the murmurs behind you. You knew that they wouldn’t dare to come in or even try to pry open the windows. Not anyone can stomach a beating.

The door slides close behind you, before you freeze. One of the girls, a blonde, was sitting on the chair in front of Mikey, smiling coyly and twirling her hair. While the other was standing beside Mikey, a hand on his shoulder. Mikey looked as if he was going to kill someone, uncomfortable.

You were also probably the only person present that knew he wouldn’t hit girls. Sadly, these girls wouldn’t learn from words, they learn from actions.

“Uh, hey, we’re busy here,” the blonde says, noticing you.

You force out a smile. “This is our classroom, you’re intruding. Please take your business elsewhere or I’m going to have to drag you out by force.” You really didn’t want to fight them. It might affect your clean record and therefore make your acceptance to the high school harder… Also because you kind of liked how everyone treats you currently.

“Mou, just let us finish~” This time, it was the brunette that spoke, pouting and still patting Mikey’s shoulder. “We’re going to finish our conversation real quick! Right, Mikey-kun?”

“Conversation is a two-way discussion. Both parties will talk and share their ideas, and both parties are supposed to be comfortable in it; if not, then it is either persuasion or pressure,” you raise a brow, taking slow easy steps to them. “So tell me, Manjiro, are you comfortable in this situation?”

You met his gaze and instead of the uncomfortable blank expression earlier, there was a small smirk on his lips. He glances at both of the girls before carefreely resting his cheek on his propped up hand, eyes twinkling with curiosity and amusement. “No. Not at all.”

You finally stop a table in front of them, poised. “See, ladies? Now, I’m asking you to go for the second time. Resist and I’ll be relying on force.”

The blonde scoffs, standing up from her seat. “But I really want to talk to Mikey-”

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as your hand was already on the ribbon that kept her ponytail up, dragging her down as she yelped. The brunette squeaks but you caught one of her braids before she could either run away or come at you.

Easily avoiding their sharp perfectly-painted nails, you drag them by the door as Mikey watches on with a little chuckle. You slide open the door with your foot ignoring both the yelps of the duo and the gasps of your classmates. You spread your feet apart before throwing the brunette out and lightly spinning so the blonde could go next.

They both topple to the floor, your classmates not bothering to catch them and just opting to back away instead. “My hair and nails!” The blonde shrieks causing a few wandering eyes to gravitate to her, tears were gathering up in her eyes while her partner had already let a few of them slip. “You bitch! I’m going to-”

The foot that met her stomach wasn’t yours.

Mikey stands beside you, expression once more blank but fire in his eyes as he hears what she just called you. His hands are on your shoulder as he nonchalantly scrutinizes everyone around him, all who are frozen including the passing teacher who was about to stop the growing fight.

“I don’t hit girls,” Manjiro starts, his grip on you tightening. “But you just crossed the line by calling Y/n a bitch.”

[helliontherapscallion]

Anon who’s dog had a seizure. I wanted to be able to give a positive update, but I won’t be able to. I was woken up by a call at around 1:30am from my mom and the first thing she said was “[my dogs name] died”

I don’t know all the details, I was in a full fledge panic attack and was overcome with despair when it was either explained to me or I overheard (frankly, I don’t remember) but apparently at some point either last night or veryyyyy early this morning my mom let the dog out to use the restroom, and he collapsed again similarly to how he did two days ago. My mom rushed him to the emergency vet (a thirty minute drive) but he didn’t even make it there.

I think I was dry heaving at some point because my panic was so bad. I ended up going to the vet with my dad so I could say goodbye (he had before my mom left with the dog) and ngl, going with him did not help in the slightest. My dad has NPD and he kept making the situation about himself and I stg I was ready to throw myself out the car window in the middle of the freeway and walk the rest of the way there OOP—

I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to because of Covid, but we were allowed to all head into the vet and hold him and give proper goodbyes before they took him to be cremated (they have a partnership with some place that does all that jazz). It was rough. He’s a small dog, only 18 pounds, but just holding him felt so different. There was no resistance when I picked him up (I’m not his favorite person lol, so he’d always deadpan and shuffle away a little from me before giving in whenever i’d make grabby hands hahaha) and it was just rough.

A year and a half ago my old bird passed away in that same emergency vet, so I just felt like I was suffocating the whole time. It was basically history repeating itself and I had a ✨mental breakdown✨ while cradling the pooch. My mom almost had to drag me out 2.5 hours later because I didn’t want to leave him. I tried to be strong, he was her dog in the end and they had an unbreakable bond. I should’ve been the one comforting her, not the other way around. I totally failed lol.

Thank god I was able to go home with my mom and not my dad. I wanted to be the one to drive home so she could rest, but I didn’t have the energy to protest when I saw she was already in the drivers seat.

We’ve had him since he was a few months old. I was in first grade at the time, and despite us having a very rocky start (young me didn’t like all the attention he received bc it used to be mine) he was my lil buddy and I would have done anything for him. I was looking forward to taking my senior and graduation pictures with him soon, but it seems like that won’t be happening. I just wish I did more with him.

Sorry for rambling and being so depressing! I haven’t gotten much sleep over the past two nights so I’m really out of it.

If it’s not too much to ask for, could I have a part ii of my previous request but have it involving what I wrote above? Asdfghjkl my depressed ass needs comfort and all of my friends are in school LOL. (Thank god I was called off from school this time) Plus, I don’t wanna make my mom feel worse by adding my grief on top of her own (I hope that made sense)

Part 1

(A/N): anon, I’m so sorry to hear about your dog. From what you sent me about him, he sounded like an absolute delight to be around and a very good boy. You deserve to grieve too, even if you don’t think you should. Grieving is healthy and it’s something that shouldn’t be ignored. Everyone grieves differently, so maybe you and your mom could reminisce on the good times with him? Only if you both feel comfortable doing so of course. Please get some sleep, drink plenty of water, and eat some food if you haven’t already. My DMs are always open if you ever want to talk <3

Warnings: death of a dog and bird (mentioned), panic attacks, NPD parent mention

You were jolted awake by a loud ring from your phone laying on your nightstand. It was the ringtone you specifically set for your mom. Blinking deliriously, you answered with a raspy, “mom?”

You were only met with her choked sobs on the other end. This woke you up completely as you turned on a lamp and sat up fully in your bed, “mom what’s wrong?”

“(Dog name)...” She was unable to say your dog's name before she broke into more harsh sobbing. Worry and fear pricked your gut at the mention of your dog’s name. “What about (dog name)? What’s going on?”

“He d-died, (y/n). He isn’t suffering anymore.” You felt as if ice cold water was poured onto you as you sat staring at the wall in shock. Faintly you heard your mom telling you how it happened, but you didn’t register her words. The words that came out of your mother’s mouth were nearly incomprehensible anyways due to her distress. You didn’t know when she hung up, but the next time you looked at the phone screen your homescreen met you: a picture of you, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy at an amusement park. 

Your panic attack had escalated to you dry heaving over the toilet after puking up your dinner. You felt like you were suffocating as you remembered the techniques Techno used a few days prior. You stumbled up from a crouch and scrambled over to the sink. Your hands could barely grab the faucet and turn it on as you lost most of your sense of spatial awareness and everything you touched felt distant, like every single synapse in your body was both simultaneously working in overdrive and failing at the same time. The water was as cold as it was going to get, so you plunged your hands into the liquid and felt your body jolt at the temperature. After a while, your hands turned numb after regaining some senses back so you shakily cupped your hands under the faucet and gathered water into your hands. You splashed it at your face and felt yourself becoming more grounded as time passed.

By the time you left the bathroom, your dad gathered you into the car and started to drive you to the emergency vet. The entire time he was ranting about how you needed to pull yourself together because the dog was closer to him than to you. That definitely did not help in any way, it made you want to jump out of the car and walk the rest of the way to the vet. It would be better than having someone constantly belittling you for grieving. The ride was hell, but you persevered for (dog name). You needed to say goodbye to him.

When you left the car and walked into the building, it felt as if you were walking through the nine rings of hell with blazing infernos licking at your skin with every step. Dread and despair filled and overwhelmed you with every step. 

When a nurse escorted you to the room, she offered you her condolences and left you to say goodbye. With wide eyes, you slowly walked over to your mom and saw the motionless bundle of fur in her hands. It looked like he was sleeping, but you knew better. She looked at you with so much heartbreak and sadness as tears slipped down her cheeks that you remembered that he was her dog in the end and they’ve always had an unbreakable bond. You needed to be strong for her.

Your stony facade broke the second your mom handed you (dog name). He was cold and stiff as he laid unmoving in your arms, not even trying to wiggle out of your embrace like he always did. You were never his favorite person. He felt so… different. So wrong. 

Time passed around you as you held him and cried into his fur. This situation was very similar to your previous one that happened about a year and a half ago when your bird passed away and that was what finally sent you over the edge. Before you knew it, your mom was dragging you out of the building so he could get cremated. Your dad had long since gone home so he could get ready for work, so that left you to ride home with your mom. Not that you were complaining, it was certainly better than riding home with your dad. You just wished that you could drive so she could get some rest. 

By time you got home, it was about the same time you would leave for school. As you were driving down your neighborhood, you saw a very familiar car pass you. It was Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy’s car. They were probably going to school. You kept your head down and stared intensely at your tightly clasped hands. 

The second the car was in park in your driveway, you made a beeline for your room. For the rest of the day, you hid underneath your covers and ignored the incessant buzzing of your phone on the nightstand. You spent that time alone having a panic attack. This was your longest and most intense one yet, by the time it finally calmed down it was 10:30 at night. 

You smacked your dry lips together and feel absolutely drained. The buzzing still wouldn’t let up, so you reached out with a shaky hand and opened your phone. You had at least eighty combined missed texts from Wilbur, Tommy, and Techno. 

Tuesday, Innit?

Yo, the fuck’s goin on? 

Why the hell did you ignore us when we passed you???

Music man take me by the hand lead me to the land

Ignore that dumbass

What’s going on? You weren’t at school today

(Y/n)?

Technology Sword

You don’t have to tell us what happened if you’re not comfortable

Just tell us if you’re okay

That was only the start of the messages in the group chat. Granted it was mostly Tommy spamming your name and Wilbur and Techno trying to get him to chill out, but some of the messages managed to calm the swirling panic inside of you slightly. Your phone buzzed as you got another text. This time, it was an individual one from Technoblade.

Technology Sword

Look out your window, grab your notebook

You raised your eyebrows slightly as you read the message. Your window was right across from Technoblade’s, so when you saw Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” music video and showed it to Techno, you both decided that this would be your primary communication before you eventually got phones. It wasted a ton of paper, but you both felt like the main characters in a story so you kept doing it. You hadn’t done this since you got your phone and he got his. 

After you grabbed your spare notebook and a sharpie, you sat up in your bed and turned on your lamp. When you opened your curtains, you saw Techno smiling at you before he grabbed his notebook and wrote ‘hello’. 

You uncapped your marker, wrote ‘hi’, and shakily raised it to him. You saw him frown at your shakiness, he wrote ‘you okay?’

You stared at your paper for a bit contemplating whether or not you should tell him the truth. It was no use in lying to him, he knew you better than you knew yourself. After a moment, you wrote ‘no’.

You watched as he frowned and his eyebrows crinkled together in an upwards slant. ‘Discord?’

‘Sure’

You closed your curtains once more and opened up your PC. You could already see that Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy were in a separate voice channel. When you joined, you were startled by Tommy’s loud screaming and Wilbur’s hysterical laughter. 

“WILBUR YOU PRICK WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT I WORKED SO HARD GETTING THAT NETHERITE!” 

They were interrupted by a knock on Tommy’s door, “Tommy for the love of god it’s almost eleven at night kiddo. You can keep playing but please just keep it down.”

“SORRY DADZA!”

“Good job dumbass,” Wilbur chuckled.

“Hey (y/n), how’re you?” Techno’s somewhat pointed voice interrupted them. “(Y/N)! Please tell Wilbur that it’s not cool to borrow my armor and ‘accidentally’ fall into a lava lake.”

“It was an accident I swear!” Wilbur’s slight chuckle told you otherwise. “Wilbur,” your croaky and wobbly voice scolded him quietly, “not cool.”

The voice channel went silent as you logged into your shared minecraft server. You immediately spawned in the main lobby at spawn that you built the last time you logged in. You got to work gathering wood for walls you were going to build around the city. You saw Techno’s character run to you and help you gather wood. 

“...You good, (y/n)?” Tommy’s voice took on an uncharacteristic level of gentleness and concern. 

“‘M fine.” 

After a while of silence, you heard keyboards start to click again. Gradually conversation started back up and everything felt lighthearted once more. Though, you only talked when you were prompted to. After gathering the correct amount of wood, you and Techno went back to your house so you could craft some slabs. However as you approached the crafting table, you passed your bed. Next to your bed was your pet dog, barking slightly and looking at you with it’s pixel eyes. 

You could feel tears well up in your eyes at the sight of the pixelated dog. With a lump forming in your throat you struggled to breathe through it, your breaths coming out shuttering. You made quick work of muting yourself on Discord and started sobbing, the white dog staring at you sitting on top of your minecraft bed. This wasn’t a panic attack, you knew that. But you still felt overcome by a massive wave of grief. 

After a bit, you saw Techno’s character pop in front of you and start hitting the air. In chat, you saw that he private messaged you ‘vc 2’

You clicked off the main voice chat and was immediately greeted by Techno’s gentle voice. “What’s goin on buddy?” He was only met with your sobs, “deep breaths.”

“I’m not having a panic attack.”

“Still, deep breaths are good. Follow me.” With that, you two worked on getting your breathing back to normal and your tears slowly stopped. The entire time he was giving you praise and gentle reassurances whenever you tried to apologize to him. By the time you stopped crying you felt almost completely drained. 

“You okay now?” You hummed in confirmation, too tired to say anything. “Thank you Tech, I-I’m sorry-”

“Stop apologizing for feeling emotions. They’re one hundred percent valid… Do you feel comfortable telling me what happened?”

“I…” You trailed off as you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words out loud. “You don’t have to tell me, ya know.” Technoblade gently reminded you.

“I’ll PM it to you.” With that, you PMed him on minecraft explaining that your dog died this morning. “Fuck, I’m so sorry (y/n). I’m sure he isn’t suffering anymore. Did- did they ever find out what caused the seizures?”

“No, but… he had tons of health issues that I’m glad he doesn’t have to deal with anymore.” 

“Do you wanna talk about the good times with him with Wil and Tommy? If you don’t want to we can just talk about them here.”

“Let’s rejoin the main voice channel.”

“Hey (y/n), how’re you doing?” Wilbur gently asked you. “I’m alright, do- do you guys know what happened?” They both said yes. Technoblade must’ve told them what was happening.

“(Y/n) come outside. We built something for you.” Tommy was uncharastically gentle. 

When you moved to go outside of your minecraft house and Wilbur and Tommy led you to an empty spot in the city you four were building, you stopped in your tracks. In front of you built in various types of stone was a dog statue. In front of it stood a sign that read ‘in loving memory of (dog name)’.

“We aren’t done with it, but we can finish it in a couple of hours,” Wilbur mumbled into the microphone. 

“No, it’s perfect as it is. I don’t know what to say guys…”

“You don’t have to say anything, just know that we’re here for you.” Tommy said, his minecraft character walking over to your own and hitting you. 

“Oi, don’t hit them!” Techno punched him back and that started an all out brawl between the two. It quickly ended when Techno pulled out his fully enchanted netherite sword named ‘Orphan Obliterator’. 

“Get fucked, nerd.” You could just tell Tommy was holding in screaming at his brother. “I’m not the nerd here, you’re the one that reads for fun.” Tommy retorted. You heard shuffling on Techno’s end and him walking away from his PC. You were about to ask what was happening before you heard Tommy silently scream in terror. “Oh fuck he’s coming!” You assumed that Tommy ran to lock his door. Not long after that you heard a knock, “I just wanna talk.”

“No! You-”

“I just wanna talk.”

“Let him talk, Tommy!”

“NO WILBUR.”

You heard Philza’s groggy muffled voice, “it is midnight on a Friday. I don’t care what happens or who fights who, just do it in your own rooms and do it quietly.” 

“Sorry Dad,” you heard Techno’s retreating steps before he returned to his chair. “You’re a douche, Technoblade.” 

“I just wanted to talk, Tommy.” At that, Techno started beating Tommy to death once more. Each time he would kill Tommy, he would give Tommy a small head start before he would find him again. While this was happening, Wilbur PMed you ‘wanna prank Tommy and Techno? I’m thinking we put chickens under their houses’.

You looked at his player and nodded. You and Wilbur got to work luring chickens into holes you dug around their bases and burying them so that they were close enough to hear, but deep enough for it to be mildly inconvenient finding them. After you two were done with that, you met at spawn again.

“Techno stop killing Tommy. We want to tell stories about (dog name).” You saw Techno’s character sprint to your group and Tommy’s come up from a hole in the ground. “I was just about to find him.”

“Thank you! God, I hate it when he does that.”

The rest of the night you four spent reminiscing on the funny things that (dog name) did over the years. At some points you even laughed along with them. After you told them that you wanted to take your senior pictures with him, Techno offered to edit him into your photos. You didn’t know when you passed out but when you woke up, you had a crick in your neck and your PC monitor was off. You could hear three sets of soft snoring on the other end of the call. You felt yourself drifting off to their gentle breathing and smiled slightly; with them, everything felt better. 

[barnesbabee]

𝓹𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓮 - 𝓯𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓵

|| ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ⇜ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - 21

⟿ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: No sensible person would turn down their boss if they looked good as good as Seonghwa. But maybe they would wish they had…

⟿ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛ: CEO!Seonghwa x reader, bestfriend!Yunho x reader || Social Media!AU || no gender specified for the reader

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: (send me a DM or an ask to be added) @ateezappreciation @shinyddeonghwa @lilithpooped @cloudyyeonnie@yeosangmystar @wooyoung-a @sanisms @mingismoon @lovelyvitamin @anawwyd @annasbannas @im-just-trying-to-survive-man @uglychildd @oddlittlefandomist @hwahomie @jin-neck-shaft @lovelyvitamin @yeosangmystar @skmoonchild @lovelymultiwrites @sunwooyoung

Panic settled in the room as Seonghwa's words echoed in your heads. Yunho was dead, Mingi disappeared, San wasn't waking up and the body was gone.

And meanwhile, you were getting railed in Seonghwa's office. You felt sick to your stomach, not knowing what to do, or where to even start.

"Someone say something!" Jongho yelled, at the top of his lungs, finally breaking his calm character.

The silence in the room was heavy and you suddenly felt as if you couldn't breathe, as if someone was gripping your throat from the inside. As if on cue, San groaned and his eyes fluttered open.

"What the fuck?..." He groaned, as he sat up straight with the help of one hand.

San rubbed the back of his head with his other hand, hissing as he moved it up and down slowly.

You and Seonghwa ran towards him and knelt beside the man.

"San what happened!?"

San sat against the sofa, feeling too sick and too dizzy to sit up straight on his own. He took a couple of breathsm trying to recollect what happened before he blacked out.

"There really isn't much to say, right after Y/N left Mingi asked me to get him something from the kitchen and when I came back someone, I'm assuming Mingi, hit me with something in the back of the head. Next thing I know I'm waking up next to Jongho."

Seonghwa stood up, visibly stressed and irritated.

"Y/N I- I can't take this anymore. I'm tired, I'm stressed out, I wake up, go to sleep and go through the day stressed but I try to keep calm and be reasobale but I just can't anymore! I need to rest, I need time!" Jongho said.

His voice was shaky, his face was red and his eyes were desperate and tired. He had huge bags under his eyes, and he looked as if he wanted to cry, but was too tired to do so.

"I... I know. I know what you're feeling because I'm feeling it too, but the body is gone, and you know that if the body is found we'll all be questioned by the police and if he turns himself in he will also be questioned by the police and we both know that in either case they will be asking questions. The body is decomposing! They'll start asking why he didn't come right away, what happened between the murder and the confession, and it doesn't take much for Mingi to break! If he goes down he'll bring us with him!"

Your voice was unstable from crying, and you, just like every other person in the group, regretted helping Mingi. You should have stayed mad at him. You shouldn't have babied him and helped him cover up a murder. But it was too late, friendship and compassion won over you as if you were in a kid's cartoon where the power of friendship could overcome anything. But it didn't.

"Each of you get in one of my cars. We're splitting up and looking for him. Keys are in the ignition, let's go. The sooner we find him, the sooner it will all be over."

Seonghwa turned his back and started walking towards the garage, giving them no time to oppose themselves to the plan, or to complain at all.

Four motors roared in the garage as each of them left in their respective car to look around. He couldn't have gone very far, it had only been a couple hours and Mingi had no car and no money for a cab.

It was becoming increasingly hard for San to throw off Wooyoung. They had been spending a lot of time together and these past few days he had barely talked to the younger boy, making the latter suspicious that either San had gotten tired of him, or that he had found someone else. Either way Wooyoung was panicking and constantly blowing up San's phone, which was just the cherry on top. After the 10th ding sounded from his phone, San pulled over for a second and called Wooyoung.

"Heeey Woo." He said, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

"San what's happening? Please tell me if you're getting tired of me... Don't give me any hopes, because I really like you."

"What? No Wooyoung, I like you, like... a lot. Really. But I've just been busy with consoling Y/N, and there was a bunch of issues in some paperwork from my part-time job so I had to work on that as well, it's just been a very tiring couple of days, I'm sorry... Can I get back to you once I'm done? I need a little rest."

As far as Wooyoung knew you were still upset at Mingi.

"Alright fine, but I expect a nice homemade dinner once you're free."

"Of course baby."

San hung up with a sigh, relieved that he bought his excuses, and started the engine once more, resuming his search.

San was driving around the town, searching places with fewer people and hidden spots where rarely anybody went to. He ended up in a couple bad neighborhoods, which in retrospect it wasn't very smart since he was riding a Rolls Royce, but they hadn't been making good choices the past few days. Seonghwa headed back to the cabin where they had found the body, you searched every bridge and police station and Jongho went to his apartment.

It was minute 12 of driving around when you received a call. It was a group call with everyone involved.

"The body is back in the cabin. It's covered with all the leaves and shit we put here."

"Don't touch it, get out of there for now. I'm still trying to get to his house, anyone got anything?"

Jongho's question was met with a bunch of no's.

"Well I'm almost at his house and I can see- oh my God. I found him. I found him he's standing on a balcony and I think he's gonna jump everyone get here!"

Jongho hung up and you told Seonghwa the address. Thankfully you were close by and got there in no time. Jongho sprinted up the stairs and by the time you and San got to the house he was trying to talk Mingi out of it. Mingi was standing on the edge of his balcony, on the other side of the railing, but still holding onto it. Jongho was crying and begging Mingi to come to his senses and to come back inside, as he gripped his arm.

"It's no use Jongho, just let me go! This is not up to you!"

You and San got up to the balcony as well, trying to talk Mingi out of it.

"Mingi please! We'll get through this I'm begging you, we can't lose you too!" You yelled.

You wanted to stay composed but you couldn't help the tears streaming down your face. Even Jongho, who was usually very uncomfortable displaying his emotions, was crying and begging.

When Seonghwa got to the scene, he was terrified. He didn't know what to do, which was a common thing throughout the past few days, and it was killing him.

Everyone was pulling on Mingi's left side, trying to pull him up along with Jongho, so, without anyone noticing, he jumped outside the railing, and slowly walked towards Mingi without him noticing either.

Once he was close enough, he grabbed the man and pulled him up and over the railing, while holding himself stable with one hand on said railing.

However, Mingi's selfishness was bigger, and in the end, he showed that no matter what other people did for him, he was going to put himself first.

Mingi was mad, he thought his friends were being selfish and had no say in the matter, so while being saved, while going over the railing back into his house, he kicked it away with all the strength in his body, making him fall back.

Seonghwa, who was holding onto Mingi, failed to grip the railing harder and fell with Mingi, looking into your sad, panic-filled eyes as he fell to his death.

You bent over and watched the man you loved fall, in what felt like slow motion. His body hit the ground, and with an ugly cracking noise, Seonghwa's head split open.

You sprinted down the stairs, and once you got down to the ground people were circling the two men, taking pictures and gasping at the scene. You shoved away everybody in front of you so you could reach Seonghwa. His face was nearly intact, but the pool of blood surrounding his cracked skull told you there was no way he'd survive. His chest moved up and down quickly, for a couple of seconds, indicating the intense pain he was in.

"Seonghwa I'm sorry- I-I'm so sorry! Please... I love you..."

Just as the last three words left your mouth, you could see his lips twitch, before his chest stopped moving, before his eyes lost all of their color, before his body went limp in your hands. You stayed there, holding the face of the deceased man you once loved, your clothes soaking his blood and you cried out for forgiveness.

You didn't dare look at Mingi, but you sure hoped he was dead.

But he wasn't. And in the end. When the ambulance and the police came, they took Seonghwa to the morgue and Mingi to the hospital. Mingi ended up surviving after intense surgery, but not for long, because you would end up killing him.

"You don't get to live!" You told Mingi, as you stabbed gagged him and stabbed him over, and over, and over.

He died in a slow, agonizing way, just like you wanted him to. After all he put you, San, and Jongho through, after the sleepless nights, the constant stress, after staying the love of your life he still thought he'd get a second chance!?

You made sure he suffered, and you made sure he knew how much you hated him as you pierced your old, blunt, and rusty knife into his body.

San and Wooyoung ended up fleeing the country, and Jongho joined the military, both too afraid to face the reality and their past actions, seeking any refuge outside of their past lives. They did end up hearing about Mingi's death, and neither of them seemed to care. After everything, they just gave up on him completely.

You were arrested for Mingi's murder, but after confessing everything, and giving a couple touch-ups where you removed Seonghwa, Jongho, and San from the story, and after leading them to Yunho's body, the lawyer from your case pleaded not guilty, and blamed your acts on the heavy toll the incidents of helping your best friend, and the death of your lover, had taken on you, and the judge agreed that you should be under house arrest, with a government assigned professional that would assist you, take care of you, and report back to court.

Was that the end? Was that all there was to your life? That seemed to be the case... Sooner or later you'd end up joining Seonghwa however, you knew that much, you just hoped he was somewhere waiting for you.

[kisses-for-cas]

Summary: When a witch hunt forces the Winchesters to go undercover in a suburban neighborhood, Dean finds himself fighting with his upcoming feelings for a certain angel. To be more precise: the angel, who currently pretends to be married to his brother Sam.

Ships: Dean/Castiel

Word Count: 8,200

Read on AO3

Tammy has lived in this neighborhood for almost 30 years – she raised her kids around here and now is enjoying her well-deserved retirement with her husband Harold. And if she knows one thing for certain, then it’s this: there’s something wrong with the new neighbors. It’s not because they are gay, Tammy tells herself. She believes herself to be quite open-minded, one of her nieces is actually a lesbian. It’s something else, but she can’t quite put her finger on it yet.

The men moved in today, only a few days after the last tenants died in a horrible and tragic accident involving the lawnmower and a malfunctioning electric wire. Tammy doesn’t like to admit it, but she always knew those two didn’t fit the neighborhood. Sarah brought it up several times at Sunday Brunch, and as it turned out, the entire neighborhood held a grudge against the deceased couple. At least the house still looked well enough to get sold almost immediately again.

It’s hard to catch glimpses of the movers, but she catches a few sights as she stretches out of her bedroom window. One of them has dark hair and is wearing a tan trenchcoat, the other one seems to be taller and is coated in a flannel shirt. Not really the type to be moving into this street, but they might turn out to be nice. She tries to keep an open mind, she tells herself, even though she doesn’t understand how somebody could possibly move while wearing a trenchcoat.

Shortly after dinner, the doorbell rings, and Tammy almost jumps forward to get it. Sarah told her she’d call once she had a proper talk with the new neighbors, but the phone’s been quiet so far. But to her surprise, it’s not her friend in front of the door, but two handsome men holding a basket with muffins.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Philipps. We’re the Winchesters,” the taller of both says, as he holds his hand out. Tammy shakes them politely, as she smiles at them.

“Tammy is fine, and my husband Harold is probably already asleep in his lounge seat,” she jokes as she shakes their hands. The man in the trenchcoat seems a bit more reserved, but he still gives her a small smile when she looks at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tammy,” the other man says again. “I’m Sam, and this is my husband Cas.”

5 days earlier

“Lawnmower accident?” Dean laughs, as he re-reads the headline again. “Well, if this isn’t our kind of thing, I really don’t know what is.”

“Exactly what I thought,” Sam replies, turning his laptop back to himself. “Apparently there were several deaths within the last 10 years in this neighborhood, and all of them were classified as accidents.”

“All over the area? So less likely a spirit, and more like –“

“Witches?” Sam finishes his brother’s sentence. “Probably, the victims weren’t exactly popular in the area. One of them had a kid, but the couple wasn’t married. Another person wanted to move in with her wife, but she died before she could. Seems like they are most likely targeting people, who don’t fit the community.”

Witches and conservative suburbs sure aren’t Dean’s favorite things in the world, that much is sure. But if people are in danger, there’s no way he’d let them down. Especially, if he might get to kill some fundamentalist witch.

“Huh, so what we’re thinking? I’d say go undercover, but brothers usually don’t go buying some white picket fence house in a conservative neighborhood,” the older Winchester proposes, while settling back in his seat. He remembers how they tried to infiltrate that neighborhood so many years ago and how the salespeople kept mistaking them for a couple.

“I thought Eileen and I could maybe do it, but her leg isn’t healing as we hoped,” Sam thinks out loud, wincing at the thought of his injured girlfriend. The recent werewolf hunt was tougher than expected and left Eileen’s leg badly hurt. Cas tried his best to heal her, but she was still struggling.

“Maybe one of us could team up with Mom?” Dean suggests but cringes once the words leave his mouth. “Urgh, never mind. I’m not very strong on the Oedipus thing.”

“What about me?” Cas chimes in, all eyes turning to him. Dean didn’t even realize the angel entered the room. “Since we are not related, it might be less awkward to pretend a relationship.”

Dean is left more or less speechless, as he babbles incoherent words. He likes Cas very much; they are best friends for a reason. But pretending to be in a relationship? Heaven and Hell have been teasing them for years about their “profound bond”, so they might even get away with it. But Dean’s stomach twists uncomfortably at the mere thought of calling Cas a pet name or holding his hand in public.

“Uh-Uh, no way I’m getting fake-married to Cas!” Dean protests once he finds the ability to speak again. His reaction was apparently a bit harsh, judging by the looks both Cas and Sam give him.

“Okay…,” Sam sighs, drawing the word out in a long breath. It sounds like he wants to say more but instead turns to face the angel. “Castiel, would you like to pretend-marry me?”

Dean can feel a blush creep up his neck, as he stares at his brother. It’s the reasonable thing to do, but it just feels wrong. Nobody ever questioned their status as friends, and Dean can’t even picture the both of them acting in love. When he thought his stomach felt bad before, he’s now actually feeling sick.

He’s close to suggesting a fake relationship with their mom again when Cas simply nods to answer Sam’s question. “Of course, Sam. I mean, I do.”

The two share a hinted smile as if they are both part of a joke Dean doesn’t get. The sick feeling still doesn’t leave him, as he stands up from his seat. He must have eaten something wrong today, that’s the only logical explanation.

“Well, Mazel Tov to you guys then,” Dean mutters, more to himself than to the other men. They don’t even look at him when he leaves the room behind.

———————————————————————————————–

“I still think this is a stupid idea,” Dean protests, as he puts the meatloaf in the oven. Somewhere behind him, he knows Cas is preparing the salad and Sam is busy fluffing some pillows on the couch.

“We need to connect with all the neighbors, and a housewarming party is the easiest way to do so,” Sam replies annoyed. He and Cas introduced themselves to everyone in the neighborhood, but nobody seemed guilty so far. Cas tried his best to “sniff the witch out” but only found some kitchen herbs in the local gardens and a loud laugh from Dean, when he explained his plan to search for witch-like smells. So far, they had no clue who the responsible party could be.

“Dearest, could you make space in the hallway closet for the coats?” Sam calls out to Cas, and Dean almost burns his hand at the stove. He had a few days to adjust to the idea of Sam and Cas pretending a relationship, but the term of endearment still surprises the hunter.  

“What’s next? You’re gonna kiss goodbye on the porch when Cas drives to work?” Dean snaps at his brother, who seems confused by the sudden anger.

“If the situation needs it, sure…,” Sam replies, but Dean interrupts him before he can continue.

“What the hell, Sammy? Dearest? What kind of weird pet name is that even supposed to be?”

“The one Sam and I agreed to,” Cas replies drily. The look in his blue eyes leaves no space for any further discussion. “This act is completely planned out, and we can’t risk our standing because you are having trouble adjusting, Dean.”

Just as Dean wants to argue again, they are interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. They can only hope nobody heard their yelling, the last thing they need is unnecessary gossip from the neighbors. Cas and Sam waltz towards the front door, while Dean stays a few steps behind them.

“Hello Tammy, Harold. Welcome to our humble home,” Sam greets the guests, as the couple enters their hallway. Cas takes their jackets from them, hanging them in the biggest coat closet Dean’s ever seen. Well, at least the house got some perks. Before he can think more about the architectural features of the house, his brother calls for him.

“This is my brother Dean,” Sam introduces him, and Dean tries his best to give a fake smile and nod politely at the boring stories the neighbors tell him. This is going to be a long evening…

—————————————————————————————-

“Well Ladies, let’s begin Sunday Brunch,” Irene happily pronounces, as she raises her mimosa in the air. The other women do the same, cheering each other. It’s the first Sunday Brunch after the Winchesters moved to the area, leaving more than enough gossip material for the group.

“They seem nice enough, but I heard Sam is unemployed. He just sits around all day at home and waits for his Cassiel to come back home!” Jennifer complains with a deep sigh. It’s no secret she isn’t the biggest fan of the new couple, but even she can’t deny the quality of the served meatloaf at the housewarming.

“His name is Cassiel, dear,” Beth replies, eying the salmon pieces hungrily. “They said Sam’s working in IT and can do it from home. Clearly, an excuse, if you ask me.”

The gossip continues happily: Tammy found out they only have one toothbrush. Irene asked about Cas’s job, and apparently, he’s working in a nearby library. And all of them agree, their marriage is weird. Whenever Sam touched his husband, it felt unnatural, and they didn’t kiss once the whole evening.

“We need to address the elephant in the room,” Sarah sighs, and the group’s attention draws over to her. She’s been quiet so far, which means her news are far bigger than everyone else’s: “The brother.”

“If I were only twenty years younger…,” Beth starts, earning a peal of laughter from the women around her. “He’s very handsome, that’s true.”

“Yes, and I think Castiel would agree with you there,” Sarah speaks, before taking a long sip from her teacup. The reaction is immediate, as all the women start talking at once. The Winchester barely lived a week in the neighborhood, but they already produced the best gossip they had in a while.

“Do you think they are having an affair?” Tammy asks shocked. Of course, she had felt the tension between the family members, but she blamed it on the stress of moving. But now that Sarah suggested it, it seems like a possible explanation.

“We can’t be sure yet, but I bet something is going on. Dean surely looked rather unhappy every time he saw Sam touching his hubby. And Cas got some serious heart-eyes for his brother-in-law.”

“Besides,” Irene steps in “their marriage just seems – off? There’s more sex happening in the way Cas looks at Dean than in his marriage bed with Sam”

“Irene!” The shocked gasp from the elder women makes the other guests laugh, as they refill their mimosas.

“Oh, poor Sam,” Tammy sighs, fiddling with her wedding ring. Being cheated on must be awful on its own, but having your husband fool around with your own brother? That’s a new level of tastelessness.“

“Anyways, have you seen Mrs. Ericson’s new haircut? Just awful…”

——————————————————————————————

Dean excuses himself early from the housewarming party, not knowing how much more of the charade he could have handled. He expected to get some blackmailing material for his brother, it was supposed to be a funny sight after all. What he didn’t expect was the burning sensation on his inside, as he regarded the play right in front of him.

He’s still mad about the whole thing, and how caught up both of them were. It’s one thing to hold hands and present in the couple in front of others. But Sam calling Cas by a pet name in private? That’s just unprofessional, even Dean knows that. And then Sam told him, he would even kiss Cas if the situation needs it…What the hell was that even supposed to mean? Nobody is going to force them to kiss, the party guests are all far too old to play “spin the bottle” anymore.

Would Cas even kiss back, if Sam initiated a kiss? The angel doesn’t seem the type for physical affection; hell, he only lost his virginity a few years ago! The image of Cas pressing Meg against the wall, kissing her passionately, popped back up in Dean’s mind. And then the image changed to Cas and Sam in the same manner…God, Dean’s gonna have to swallow some holy water to get rid of that mental image.

Carefully, he watched the way his brother and his friend interacted, and the sight made him feel uneasy. He thought it was a stupid idea for them to fake a relationship because it would just be weird. But now that he was watching the way Cas’s hand rested on Sam’s lower back, Dean realized it’s something entirely else: he’s jealous. It’s not a feeling he knows very well; after all, none of his relationships ever lasted long. But as he watched Cas laugh at one of Sam’s stories, their sides pressed together – it’s setting something inside of Dean loose.

If he hadn’t acted like a child, he might have been the one standing beside Cas at that moment. He would have been the one holding his hand, laughing at his jokes, and maybe even pressing soft kisses on Castiel’s cheek. Nobody would even question their act, he’s sure of that. And then his mind kept wandering, back to the memory of Cas showing off his kissing skills. Except now it wasn’t Meg, but himself getting pinned against the wall.

Dean’s not stupid; he knows he likes men the same way he likes women. It’s been a long journey to finally find self-acceptance, but he’s finally contempt with it. That doesn’t mean he’s going to buy pride stickers and tell everyone around him he’s bi. No, it’s his secret and he’s the only one who needs to know about it.

He also knows Cas’s vessel is very attractive. But those two things – his attraction to men and his profound bond with Cas – were never something he considered might be related. But thinking about Cas kissing him – it’s something Dean never knew he wanted that much. When the sight of the happy couple got too much for him to bear, Dean excused himself to get a drink. Only then he remembered they are actually on a job, and he’s supposed to be on the watch out for possible bad guys.

And he’s totally going to do that.

Once he had a proper drink.

——————————————————————————————

“Please tell me your stupid charade is at least getting you somewhere,” Dean groans, once Cas is settled in his seat across from him. They decided to meet up in a close diner to discuss their next steps, while Sam is hacking the public security cameras from their house. Dean refuses to call it their “home”, hating the implication it’s setting.

“There are a few people we can surely rule out,” Cas replies, stirring some sugar into the coffee mug Dean pressed into his hands. “On my drive yesterday, the energetic waves were much stronger at the end of the street.”

“Great, so what’s next? You and Sammy going to play house for some more weeks, until we finally got our suspect?”

Dean can only hope the hunt will be over rather sooner than later. He barely slept the night after the housewarming party, his mind racing with thoughts. Not even liquor helped to drown them out and the night left him feeling not only exhausted but more upset than ever.

Castiel releases an annoyed groan. “Can you just…you’re undermining this plan at every given opportunity, and Sam and I are getting worried you might risk the entire thing.”

“I just want,” Dean starts, the words twisting in his throat. He knows exactly what he wants, ever since seeing Cas and Sam casually holding hands and snuggling on the couch. But at the same time, he knows it’s something he can’t have. Angels aren’t supposed to have emotions, he knows that. But when he catches Castiel’s blue eyes carefully watching him, Dean can’t help but feel a spark of hope.

“Do you ever think things could be, you know, different between you and me? Maybe we could be…more…or…”

“Dean,” Cas replies, his name sounding almost like a prayer from his lips. “Are you saying…”

“Well, hello you handsome fellas,” a sudden voice snaps them back to reality and when they look at its owner, Beth is smiling at them. “I thought it was you, so I just had to pop in and say hello.”

“Hello then,” Dean grumpily answers, his eyes focused on the table before him. Of all possible times, Beth had to disrupt them just now. He remembers the way those nosy neighbors had eyed him at the housewarming party, and how it made him uneasy. But then again, he only had eyes for Cas that evening.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work, Cas?” Beth asks, an obnoxious tone hidden under her sweetly sick smile. Right, Dean remembers, they told everyone Cas works at the library. Good enough of an excuse to spend their time there.

“Uhhh – Lunch break,” Castiel answers stiffly, his eyes shortly glancing over to Dean. The hunter seems to have grown smaller by the second, as he fiddles with the menu.

“Well, tell Sam I said hi,” she comments cheerfully, as she finally leaves them alone again. Silence falls over the table, only disturbed by the noise of the diner around them. Dean can feel Castiel’s watchful eyes on him, but he’s not ready to face them yet. He might not believe in fate or destiny, but the disturbance came just at the right time. A few seconds more and he might have destroyed the best friendship he had his entire life.

“Dean…,” Cas finally breaks the silence, but Dean interrupts him before he can speak more.

“Just forget it, Cas…Let’s focus back on the case.”

They don’t pay any attention to Beth, who silently snaps a picture of them from the outside. It feels like the ultimate proof those two are actually having an affair; why else would they meet up in a diner during Castiel’s work hours? She can’t help but grin, as she sends the picture to her friends.

TO: BRUNCH LADIES

“Look who’s having dinner instead of working….”

——————————————————————————————

“It’s Jennifer,” Cas says, once the image of Dean flashes over the laptop screen. After several neighbors pointed out how attached Dean seems to be to his brother, they decided to stick to virtual conversations for the moment.

“You sure?” Dean asks as he watches his brother and his best friend sit on their couch. He should be glad to once have an entire motel room for himself, but for some strange reason, he misses his family. Okay, he knows exactly why: he hates not knowing what’s happening between his brother and Cas. Sammy isn’t interested in Cas that way, he knows that. But the thought of them holding hands is enough to get Dean bothered.

“Absolutely,” Sam replies. “She was already one of our suspects due to some lucky incidents in the last few years, but when I was at her house, I clearly saw some witch supplies.”

“Her magic doesn’t seem too powerful, destroying her supplies and her altar should be enough to stop her,” Cas adds up, and Dean nods along.

“She’s working from home, right?” Dean asks while trying to remember everything about the suspect. Jennifer didn’t talk to him a lot; she was more of a loner. Apparently, her husband died a few years ago and left her enough money to start her own jewelry company. “How are we going to get her out of the house long enough to take care of the situation?”

“We could throw another party. Maybe celebrate a birthday or a wedding anniversary. And you and Mom could handle the house in the meantime,” Sam suggests.

“She didn’t stay long at the housewarming,” Cas throws in. “We need some more time, there might be warding at her house – maybe we could try a distraction, so she stays longer?”

“You could fake-break-up your fake marriage,” Dean huffs under his breath, knowing already they won’t agree to it. If their plan fails, the entire cover-up story would be blown up. There’s a bottle of beer in Dean’s hands and he takes a deep gulp from it. It may not be noon yet, but he stopped caring about that years ago.

Cas answers once Dean finished drinking. “No, that’s hardly enough to draw her attention.”

“We could call Jack, maybe he can help out. He could be your unknown son from a secret affair,” Dean jokes next. It sounds almost like a cheap plotline from Dr. Sexy – except Dr. Sexy’s secret son actually appeared in season 3 and needed an organ transplant, which could only be donated by his father. While Dean tries to remember how the episode ended, Sam and Cas nod in agreement.

“I’ll call Jack right away,” Cas speaks, his phone already halfway pressed to his ear. A second later, the angel disappears from the couch, leaving only Sam in his view. The younger Winchester seems to wait for Castiel to leave the room before he addresses his brother again.

“Dean, promise me you won’t act up,” Sam tries to reason. “We can’t risk the entire thing because you are getting jealous.”

“Jealous? Don’t be ridiculous, Sammy,” the older Winchester mumbles, trying his best to not sound petty. “Scout’s honor, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

——————————————————————————————-

Dean’s promise lasts around 20 minutes, which is already longer than he honestly would have expected. He and Mary will enter Jennifer’s house at 1800 sharp, leaving them with just enough time to trash her little altar and the supplies. Jack is going to start with his distraction around 10 minutes earlier, giving Dean enough time to slip out quietly. It’s all planned to the minute, which of course means, it’s destined to fall apart.

They invited their neighbors under the premise of Castiel’s birthday, even though the angel technically doesn’t even have a birthday. It doesn’t matter anyway, since Sam promised some BBQ and apparently that’s enough to motivate everyone to show up. Dean watches the spectacle from a distance, occasionally sipping his cold beer. He planned to handle the grill, but some bored husband hushed him away to deal with it instead.

Cas looks beautiful, Dean notices as he watches his best friend talking to his guests. He’s wearing a light blue dress shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and Dean makes a mental note to thank his brother for finally getting Cas out of his usual outfit. Then he remembers it means Sam took Cas shopping at some point, and Dean’s gratitude turns sour in his mouth.

“How long have you two been married?” one of the ladies asks Cas, and Dean tries his best to hide a snickering laugh.

“Too damn long,” Dean jokes under his breath, but loud enough for several heads to turn in his direction. Maybe he had a beer too much, but watching Sam and Cas acting in love isn’t a thing he can handle sober.

“Two years,” Cas replies shortly, shooting angry glances at Dean. A second later, he mumbles to his guests again. “May you excuse me for a moment?”

Dean steps back, ready to hide from Castiel’s anger, but it doesn’t work. Barely a moment later, Cas is already in front of him. His hand closes tightly around Dean’s arm, keeping him from turning away.

“What’s the matter with you, Dean? You’re acting like a child,” Cas hisses when he catches him in the hallway. It’s enough to make Dean angry again, as he pulls his arm away from Castiel’s tight grip.

“The matter with me?” he shoots back. “This is honestly so ridiculous, you’re acting so…”

A middle-aged man bumps into them, and Dean stops talking immediately. There are far too many people around and if he says anything about the case, it could ruin their entire plan. The guests are spread all over the house, leaving no place to talk in private. Well, almost no place…

“We need to talk,” Dean whispers, before dragging the angel into the coat closet. Some curious eyes seem to follow them, but Dean shuts the door before anyone else can spot them. The closet is surprisingly spacious, but the walls seem to suffocate him. There’s a bit of light coming in through the shutters, and he can see the concern written all over Cas’s face.  

“What’s going on? Ever since Sam and I began working this case, you’ve been acting weird,” Cas presses on and Dean knows it’s finally time to come clean about his feelings. He doesn’t want to lose Castiel’s friendship, but he can’t keep lying anymore.

“I wish it were me,” Dean rushes before he can chicken out again. “Instead of Sam. I wish it were me you’re married to. And I know it’s all fake, and you’re just pretending, but it’s driving me insane. Watching him hold you and call you those cheesy pet names. Because - because it’s something I want to do with you…not pretending, but for real.”

Once Dean starts speaking, the words don’t seem to stop rushing from his mouth. Cas just regards him with those hauntingly blue eyes, his head tilted in a way that always makes Dean’s heart melt. When all is said, Dean feels like the air was punched out of his lungs, as he awaits his friend’s answer.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because I was too stupid to realize it for the longest time. And then I just didn’t know how to say it,” Dean admits. He came close to confessing in the diner, but Beth interrupted them and afterward, Dean felt ashamed and stupid.

“Dean,” Cas whispers. “I want those things too.”

There’s the beginning of a bright smile on Castiel’s face, and Dean swears his heart skips a beat when the words finally dawn on him. Before Dean can overthink the situation, he presses closer to the angel and is relieved when Cas is doing the same. And then their faces meet in the middle. Kissing Cas is the easiest thing in the world, it turns out. Whatever Dean was so afraid of, is right forgotten once their lips slot together.

It starts out innocent and gentle, just like the way relationships start. But then Cas opens his mouth a little bit, letting Dean lick inside and,  oh  – now things are getting heated. Dean presses even closer to Cas, their chests flushing together and their arms holding each other close. Somewhere, Cas’s back hits a wall and Dean pins him against it. The moan that falls from Cas’s lips is almost obscene while motivating Dean only further.

It’s perfect, and amazing, and breathtaking – until the closet door opens and they stumble onto the floor. Tammy’s surprised gasp draws everyone’s attention over to the couple, still entangled on top of each other on the floor. Everyone’s, even Sam’s.

“What the hell do you two think you are doing?” he yells loud enough to attract the entire house to the hallway, where they are watching them closely. Dean and Cas are still on the floor, slowly stumbling back to their feet.

“Sammy, I can explain…,” Dean starts, but now Sam turns his attention to Cas. He steps closer to them, his pointed finger slapping against Castiel’s chest.

“You’ve been screwing my brother?!” he yells, before locking eyes with Dean. “And you! Is this why Fernando broke up with me?”

Dean is taken aback for a second. Who the hell is Fernando? It’s only then when Dean remembers their lesser-used codewords. He can still recall how he wrote it down in his own leatherbound journal:  Fernando – just play along.

“This got nothing to do with Fernando, this is about me and Cas!” Dean replies with an angry voice, before taking Castiel’s palm into his own hands. Cas gives him a quick squeeze, and Dean decides to have at least a little fun with the situation.

“I finally understand now, why I was so against your marriage. Because you two don’t belong together! Your whole marriage is a scam! You act all perfectly happy when in reality, you’re not even sleeping in the same bed anymore.”

Dean can hear the people around them gasp a little. He wouldn’t be surprised if one of the elder people would end up with a heart attack due to all the fake drama being uncovered right now. Besides him, Cas draws in a deep breath, before speaking to his (fake) husband.  

“It’s true, Sam. I’ve been having feelings for your brother for a while now, but I never knew how to address them.”

Sam just looks at them with the biggest puppy eyes Dean’s ever seen. His time in drama club surely played out. “Are you two in love?”

Dean takes a deep breath, looking over to the familiar blue eyes, and the truth slips easily over his tongue.

“I think I love Cas more than I’ve ever loved myself.”

The look on Castiel’s face is everything and without even words, Dean knows he feels the exact same about him. The room is quiet around them, and from the corner of his eye, Dean spots Jennifer amongst the watchers. At least their little distraction worked well enough for her to stay.

“As your brother, I wish you all the happiness in the world,” Sam speaks, his eyes fixed in the distance. When Dean turns his head, he spots their mother coming in through the entrance door, breathing heavily but otherwise seems okay. She gives them both a small nod, signaling them she took care of the altar.

The crowd seems satisfied for the moment, and Dean is about to lead Cas out of the house when a voice stops them midway. It’s Jack, who is shouting loud enough for everyone to hear: “Sam, I am your secret son!”

The drama is enough to make at least one elder lady faint.

——————————————————————————————-

Dean and Cas depart soon enough, leaving Sam to deal with the rest of the concerned neighbors. Everybody seems to be too caught up in the drama to notice their quiet leave. They end up back in the diner, this time holding hands on the table. Surprisingly, everything feels the same and yet, completely different than before. Dean can’t put it in words, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s truly happy.

It takes a bit of time for Sam to finally text him, saying his guests finally left them alone and they can come back to talk about their next steps. When the Impala roars down the road, Dean can feel the eyes of every household staring at them. They are probably wondering why he would be back so soon enough, but Dean doesn’t care. He just holds Cas’ hand on the way to the house, fully knowing he won the grand prize.

Jack and Mary greet them happily, and even Sam can’t hide his grin as he approaches his brother. “Well, if it isn’t the homewrecker himself.”

“Come on, I bet several of your neighbors would have consoled you all night long, if you had asked them,” Dean shoots back, throwing a wink at Sam. He remembers the way one of the ladies had clung to Sam’s arm, trying her best to cheer him up about his failed marriage.

They all settle in the living room: Cas and Dean on the couch, Mary and Sam seated in each of the armchairs, and Jack sitting cross-legged on the floor. It may not be much, but it’s their own little screwed-up family. While Sam gets them beers from the fridge, Dean considers putting his arm around Cas. They haven’t had time to label their relationship yet, but they’re both too old to play games. So, Dean decides to go with his gut and wraps his arm around Castiel’s shoulder. The returned smile lets him know it was a good decision.

“Sorry for the way I acted earlier, it was just for show,” Sam says when he passes the beer over to the couple. “I’m actually glad you two finally figured things out.”

“Me too,” Mary chimes in with a laugh. “Even though I was patiently waiting for your back-up at the house.”

“Bet you still did an amazing job without me,” Dean returns, an honest smile on his lips. He holds his beer towards her, and she clinks it with her own.

Sam fills them in with the details of the last hours, and how he watched Jennifer leave her home in a panicked state. She packed a few bags, before driving away with screeching tires. Well, another case successfully solved. They talk for hours while laughing about stories and eating the leftovers from the party.

“Damn, I could really use some sleep now,” Dean yawns, stretching his arms. A short glance at the clock lets him know it’s almost 2 am and they gotta hit the road early the next day.

“How about you two head to the motel, and Jack and Mom stay here?” Sam proposes. When Dean checks on Jack, the kid is curled up in his seat, snoring quietly. No way they’re going to move him somewhere else, so this plan might be for the best.

“You just want me to stay, so your neighbors see this pretty lady leave your house tomorrow,” Mary jokes, earning some quiet hollering from her elder son and a laugh from Castiel.

“Guess we’re heading back to the motel,” Dean finally decides, before clumsily standing up from the couch. If it weren’t for the awful neighbors, this place might actually be nice. The furniture for one thing is comfortable enough. And the closet sure gave him a few ideas what to do with Cas in the future. He takes a few steps towards the door until he notices something is missing. “Cas, you coming?”

“You want me to come along?” Cas asks, and Dean just nods.

“Of course, would be weird to stay with your husband now that you scored the hotter brother,” Dean replies, pressing a gentle kiss on Castiel’s cheek. He never knew angels could blush, but it’s a sight he will never get enough of.

“We’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, better be dressed!” Sam shouts after them when Dean is already halfway out of the door.

“You’re such a buzzkill, Sammy. No wonder your husband left you”

“I’m just glad you’re finally out of the closet,” Sam shoots back with a grin. Dean already knows it’s a joke he’ll hear a thousand times in the upcoming years, but when he looks over at Cas, it sure is a price worth paying.

The drive to the motel is rather short, and soon enough, Dean unlocks the door to his room. Luckily, he had booked a room with a king-size bed. He rarely had a room for himself during hunts, so he had decided to enjoy that. Cas closes the door behind them, while Dean strips out of his flannel and his jeans. He’s still wearing a shirt and his boxers, but compared to a fully dressed Castiel, he almost looks naked.

When Dean comes near him, the angel wraps his arms around his torso and pulls him even closer. Once again, their lips meet in a kiss, growing more heated by the second. It’s with a sigh that Dean slowly pulls away again.

“Maybe we should take it slow, honey. How about we just cuddle tonight?” Dean murmurs, pressing gentle kisses along his jaw. The exhaustion of the day lies heavily on Dean’s bones, and all he wants to do is cuddle into bed, his lover beside him.

“Honey?” Cas asks with a raised eyebrow, and Dean feels himself blushing yet again.

“It’s just – every time I see a bee or something, I have to think about you,” he admits. “Remember how you collected honey yourself? Or when you showed up covered in bees?”

Cas smiles at the memory. “Of course, I remember, but why would you bring that up now?”

“It’s just a term of endearment, a pet name. I can stop if you want”

Dean was never a big fan of pet names. He usually called his partners by their names, not some silly phrase. But then again, he was the one who turned  Castiel  to  Cas,  so maybe the angel has always been the exception for him.

“No, I like it,” Cas decides, before pressing another quick peck onto Dean’s lips. “And I am fully contempt with cuddling you.”

After some discussion about clothing choices, Cas also strips down to his underwear. Cuddling in jeans and a dress shirt would have been awful, and Dean luckily managed to convince the angel of it. The bed is more than big enough for the both of them, as they lie facing each other in the dark.

“We should make you a proper Winchester someday,” Dean mutters, gently kissing Cas’s knuckles. He isn’t thinking about marriage, not yet at least. Most marriages he’s seen over the years ended in death: his parents, Bobby and his wife Karen, Ellen and her husband…The list goes on and on, including those couples they couldn’t save during their hunts. When he saw his own father stricken with grief for his lost wife, part of Dean swore he’d never marry. But then again, Dean never would have believed he’d ever live past the age of 30. It’s with a smile upon his lips that he finally falls asleep.

All his life, he expected monsters in every dark corner, and more than enough times Dean was proven right. He’s been long enough in the business to smell danger from miles away, Dean believes. Which is why he’s surprised to wake up to the sound of Castiel shouting his name.

When he opens his eyes, all he sees is purple. The room seems to be painted in the color, reflecting on every surface possible. And in the middle of it all stands Jessica, glaring at them with violet and angry eyes.

“You! You really thought destroying my altar was enough to stop me?”

Dean’s hand finds its way under his pillow but returns empty-handed. He must have forgotten to place it there, too caught up with his lover. And when he looks around, he can spot his faithful gun sitting on top of a dresser, which is inconveniently placed behind the wrathful witch in the room. Cas is already standing beside the bed, and the sight of a half-dressed angel ready to fight would be hilarious if it weren’t for the mortal danger they’re in.

“You’re an abomination,” Jessica yells again. “Dirty and sinful, and…”

The angel blade hits her right in the chest. Her purple eyes glance downwards, where the blood comes rushing out of her body. Apparently, she was so caught up in looking dangerous, she actually forgot to ward herself. And with Castiel’s heavenly aim, that could only end deadly for her. Jessica sinks to her knees; the purple flashes of lightning slowly disappearing from the room. It’s only then when Dean decides to approach her. Blood is running down her mouth, but she’s still alive, watching the hunter carefully as he kneels down in front of her.

“I’ve had a voice like you in my head my entire life, whispering awful things about myself,” Dean tells her, keeping eye contact as he pulls the angel blade out of her bleeding chest. “But now, that I’m finally happy, do you know what happens to this voice?”

Jessica doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t need her to.

He would have slit her throat either way. 

———————————————————————————————

“Welcome to Sunday Brunch, Agnes,” Sarah announces, as the women settle down at her dinner table. It’s been a while since they had another brunch, but it was long-awaited. Today, a new face sits at the table with them.

“So sad Jennifer decided to move away, but we are glad we got you in the neighborhood now.”

“Thanks for having me,” Agnes replies with a shy smile, as she glances around at the other women. “It’s wonderful to have such nice and caring neighbors, my old neighborhood was so scandalous…”

“Scandalous?” Irene laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh dear, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

“Are you referring to the Winchester?” Tammy replies while stirring her tea. It’s been weeks since those men came and went, but it’s still everyone’s favorite topic of discussion.

“Don’t be silly, of course I mean the Winchesters!”

Beth releases a deep sigh. “I’ve heard they did it right in Dean’s fancy car after the party.”

“No, they threw Sam out of the house and then had sex in the bed Sam used to sleep in. How tasteless of them,” Sarah corrects her immediately.

“That can’t be.” It’s Tammy’s turn to speak now. “I saw him the next day with a blonde woman in front of the house”

“Guess he got over it quickly then,” some other woman giggles. “Have you seen the kid too? Sam can’t have been older than maybe 25 when he was born”

Agnes just smiles quietly, as she listens to the stories. She may not know the Winchesters, but they sure are entertaining as heck.

———————————————————————————————

Castiel becomes a Winchester on a sunny day in July.

It’s been months since the case that started their relationship, and they never spared another thought to those nosy neighbors. Dean suspects the rumors they started that night, but he couldn’t care less. Once the town disappeared from the Impala’s rearview mirror, none of them ever spared another thought to the neighborhood. Dean and Castiel couldn’t be happier, and that’s all that matters to them.

Jody invited all of them to her cabin at Lake Alvin, just outside of Sioux Falls. They are celebrating Claire’s graduation from college, and Dean couldn’t be prouder of the kid. He talks Cas into buying her the cheesiest greeting card they can find, paired with the most beautiful gun in the entire bunker. It’s got engravings all over and Dean even finds somebody who puts “C.N.” onto the side of it. He would rather have Claire live a normal life, but he knows it’s not going to happen.

It appears like everybody in the hunter community got the invitation: Sam and Eileen, Mary, Donna, the Banes twins, even Garth and Bess together with their kids. It’s not often hunters get to celebrate something, so everybody immediately jumped the opportunity. It’s a beautiful day, and at some point, Dean finds himself standing next to Claire.

“So, when you gonna put a ring on it?” she asks, nodding over to Castiel, who is chasing his little namesake all over the lawn in a playful game. Dean’s heart swells at the thought of this man being his husband. They hunt less and less these days, especially since Sam decided to move in with Eileen. It’s still a secret, but he and Cas recently bought a house in the same street as them. It might finally be time to leave the hunting life behind.

“There’s no rush,” Dean simply answers, trying his best not to settle on the thought. If he’d ever marry someone, it probably would be Cas. His eyes are still fixed on the laughing figure when Claire continues speaking.

“Whatever, old man. But if you ever want to tie the knot, just call me,” she says, shrugging with her shoulder. When Dean looks at her with a raised eyebrow, she continues. “I’m actually a licensed officiant, not that it would matter for you two anyways. Could marry you just like that –“

She snaps her fingers, before taking a gulp of her soda. Dean looks over to Cas again, his thoughts running in his head. What if…? The idea seems insane to him, but Claire seems to catch his thoughts. A smile breaks over her face: “Go ahead, dude. Just ask him.”

“Don’t want to steal your thunder, kid.”

“There would be no thunder without you,” she confesses, and Dean can’t help but pull her into a tight hug. He never expected to have kids, but he loves Claire just like his own blood. Her first weeks in college were rough, he remembers. But every time she came close to quitting, she’d call Dean. At this point, she’s just as much his kid as Jack, and he couldn’t be prouder of the people they’ve become.

When they step apart, Claire pulls a necklace from her neck. Two golden rings are connected on it, and Dean immediately knows who they belonged to.

“Here, this one should fit,” she says and presses the larger ring into his shaking hands. Dean mutters an honest thanks, smacking a gentle kiss on her forehead, before sprinting over the lawn.

“Hey Cas, can we talk for a moment?”

“You’re not dragging me into a closet again, are you?” Castiel laughs, but willingly follows his boyfriend a few feet away from the crowd.

“If I remember correctly, you rather enjoyed that…,” Dean counters with a grin, before kissing the angel gently. Cas is still smiling against his lips, and Dean pulls away with a deep breath.

“I have an idea…well, actually Claire had the idea, but I think it’s kinda awesome. And since everyone we love is already here, it would just be such a good opportunity and…”

“Dean,” Cas simply says, putting a stop to Dean’s blabbering.

“Will you marry me? Tonight? I know, you actually deserve a much better proposal and a wedding that doesn’t take place in flannel, but I love you so very very much”

Dean’s stammered words are silenced by a loving kiss. When they pull apart, Cas is smiling brighter than the sun.

“I’ve adored you ever since the moment I touched your soul in hell, of course, I’ll marry you”

The biggest smile flashes over Dean’s face, and Cas returns it just as much. A moment later, a loud shout draws their attention over to the cabin, where Claire is cheering in a way, that reminds them far too much of Dean. And when they tell everyone else, the mood just keeps going up.

It’s not a traditional wedding, but then again, their whole lives aren’t exactly normal. Jack insists on being the flower girl, even though Dean and Sam try their best to correct it to “flower-boy”. The music comes from a beaten-up boombox, which plays “November Rain” on repeat and the couple agrees not to exchange vows, deciding to wait with them until they can talk privately.

Dean’s hands shake when he slips the ring onto Castiel’s finger. It’s only now that he realizes they only got one ring, but before Dean can freak out, the angel pulls another golden band from his pocket.

“Where did you get that ring from?” Dean asks, and Cas casts a glance over to Jody, who is currently trying to stop crying. They barely knew her husband, and sometimes Dean still feels a pinch of guilt they couldn’t save him. The ring, he knows, is not only a final peace offering but an official invitation to the family. Dean shoots her a thankful smile, and she just nods in return.

“Speak now, or forever hold your peace,” Claire announces from the front, but the crowd remains luckily silent.

“We’ve been waiting for ages, no way we’re going to object now,” Sam shoots from the side, making everybody laugh. If Dean wasn’t close to bawling his eyes out, he’d probably throw a witty remark at his brother.

“Well then,” Claire says, clearly holding tears back herself. “I shall pronounce you officially hitched!”

Everyone cheers when Cas pulls Dean in a kiss, marking the beginning of a new chapter. The rest of the evening passes in a blur: they dance, they sing, Sam proposes to Eileen, Claire and Kaia finally get together, and Dean and Cas once again find themselves fooling around in a closet. But it’s perfect in every way.

Not every family contains of two parents and a bunch of kids. For them, family contains of two washed-up hunters, their time-traveling mom, a badass Irish huntress, a fallen angel, the devil’s son, and dozens of other people they got to know over the years. Bobby once told Dean, family don’t end in blood, but it doesn’t start there either.

And as Dean watches his happy and fucked-up family, his hand tightly holding onto his husband, he just knows truer words were never spoken.

[ehenyeoongg]

CHILDHOOD FRIENDS

Pairing: Bestffriend Hendery x reader Word count: 2.4k

“I-If you can’t accept me yet, then.. I’m willing to wait for you.”

“I can’t do it anymore, Hendery.” you were walking home with an ice cream in hand. 

“You know, you could always move into my place. it’s empty, and you’ll be away from your parents that way.”

“Can I really?” You asked, but you still refused his offer.

---

“You know when you told me I could move into your place?” you called Hendery one night. 

He hummed in response. “Is your place still vacant?” Hendery was waiting at the playground in front of your house fifteen minutes later, and helped you with your bags.

“What happened to you?” Because of the tank top you wore, he could see the blue and purple bruises that decorated your tanned skin. There was also a wound and dried blood on your forearm, and your lip was busted.

“Can we just get out of here first?” you got into the car and buckled up. He drove off and when you arrived, he helped you out of the car and placed his jacket around your bare shoulders.

---

“You know, you could report them to the police..” he brought some blankets into the living room after you finished your shower and saw you struggling to apply medicine on your arm. 

“Nah, if I report them and they end up in jail or something, I’ll have to live with my aunt and uncle, and they hate kids. Who knows what’ll happen to me if I live with them.” he took the tube of cream from your hands and sat down beside you, then helped you apply it onto the bruised spots. 

“Until when are you going to stay here then?” You looked into his eyes that were filled with concern.

“Why? Are you renting this place to someone else? If you are, then just tell me, I’ll move out immedia- ah!” you winced when he pressed on your bruised skin. 

“I meant how long are you going to stay away from them? You can’t stay here forever, someday you’ll have to go out and find a job, maybe marry some guy and have kids.” he spoke what had been on his mind for awhile.

“I could marry you and have kids with you.” you said, not turning around. 

“Not funny, Y/N. You’re 19, I might get arrested if my fans find out.”

“You’re only 21! Also, I’m turning 20 in a few hours, I’ll be an adult then. So, we’re two young adults who are single and unmarried. We’re living under the same roof, and we’ve been in a loving relationship for years!”

“You mean, you got dumped by your boyfriend a week ago while I’ve never had a girlfriend, my dorm is just next door, and we’ve been best friends since we were in elementary school.”

“Exactly, single, under one roof, and loving relationship!” he recapped the tube of cream and placed it back into the first aid box. You turned to face him. 

“Did you really never have feelings for me after all these years?” You looked into his cold, expressionless eyes. He shook his head, and moved to pick up the first aid box. You grabbed his hand, making him sit back down onto the couch. You slowly crawled closer to him, while he didn’t make any move. 

As you climbed on top of him and straddled his hips, the look in his eyes changed. No matter how good he was at acting, you always knew. Or at least you thought you knew.

“W-What are you doing?” he tried to sound as cold and emotionless as he possibly could in that situation. 

“Can’t you at least try?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him like a huge koala bear. 

“Hmm?” he hummed, sending vibrations through your chests that were in contact. 

“Be my boyfriend. For a year. If things don’t work out between us, we’ll end things.” you pulled away from him and looked into his eyes.

He was quiet for awhile. 

“I can’t. Now can you please get off me?” You can’t, or you don’t want to? You got off him and watched his back, your eyes brimming with tears. 

“What do you want to eat?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen, but you had already left. 

“Y/N?” he wanted to go after you, but after what he just said, you probably needed some time to yourself to think. Still, it was night time, should he have gone after you? Hendery sat on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. 

“She’s independent and strong. I’m sure she’ll come back safe.”

---

You met Lucas as soon as you left Hendery’s place. 

“Eo? Y/N, why are you coming out of.. Are you crying? What happened?” your tears were about to spill but you held them in and smiled. 

“I-It’s nothing,” you laughed it off, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“You’re crying..” he reached a hand out to you but you turned away, “No, I’m not..” you wiped your tears away with the sleeves of Hendery’s huge hoodie. 

“What happened? You can talk to me if you want.” Lucas followed you and sat down at the playground.

“I heard you’re an adult now. Congratulations!” he offered you the can of beer but you shook your head. 

“You sure?” he offered it again. You took the can of beer from his hand and drank it all in one go.

“H-Hey, Hendery will kill me if he finds out that you drank it all in one go. I wanted you to take a sip, not..” You reached for another can and opened it, but he pulled it out of your hand. 

“I think that’s more than enough.” you sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes and lighter from your pocket. 

“Where did you get those from? You were underage just a few hours ago..” You took a puff, and let smoke out.

“I’ve done more than smoke, Lucas. I have a high alcohol tolerance too, so that one can of beer was nothing.” 

“Uh huh, right. I’ll ask Ten for some wine then maybe.” he left the playground and you took the chance to drink a few more cans of beer.

---

<message from LUCAS>

Hendery opened the message. A video?

“You know.. I wish I hadn’t been born as a human.” it was your voice. You were already very drunk, and Lucas took the chance to take a video of you as a prank. 

“Then what do you want to be if not a human?”

“His heart. I want to share his feelings, his happiness, his sorrow. I want to be wherever Hendery is. If he dies, I die. But if I die, I could just be replaced with a better heart.” you smiled sadly and drank more beer. 

“I’ve tried to be there for him, but it seems.. He doesn’t want me involved in his future. He’s been pushing me far away, and without realizing it.. We’ve drifted apart.” Your tears fell, and the camera was shaking too. It seems that Lucas was crying as well, and he was trying his best to hold it in. 

“HENDERY WONG! YOU JERK! SHE LOVES YOU, CAN’T YOU SEE THAT!?” A drunk Lucas shouted at the top of his lungs.

Hendery left the apartment and ran down to the playground.  

“You dummies! What are you doing here?”

“You jerk!” he narrowly dodged a crushed beer can that came flying his way. Lucas stood and staggered and swayed as he walked towards Hendery. 

“You’re drunk. I’ll get Winwin to..”

“No need. I can get back myself.” Hendery could do nothing but watch as Lucas refused to get any help from the jerk, yelling and screaming as he did so. They were lucky they lived in a loud neighborhood, so no one really cared for the tantrums of the young man.

“Y/N.” you turned away, “Y/N.” Hendery walked to the other side of the swing and knelt beside you.  He sighed and picked you up over his shoulder. 

Lucas left some trash at the playground, help me pick it up.’ he texted in the WayV group chat before leaving. 

“What do you want, Hendery!” you kept hitting his back. He opened the door to his apartment and entered, going straight to the room and throwing you on the bed. He had both your arms pinned above your head, and your legs between his. You were trapped, and in your drunk state, all you could do was squirm around. 

“Let go of me!”

“Look at me.” you refused to meet his eyes. 

“I SAID LOOK AT ME!” he raised his voice and you flinched. You were really scared now, and tears fell as you met his eyes. 

“No! No, I don’t want to..” he had never raised his voice at you before, and now that he suddenly shouted..

His lips met yours. His kisses were rough and needy, as if hungry for something. You melted into his touches as he loosened his hold around your wrists. You reached for the hem of his shirt, but he held your wrist, stopping you. 

“I can’t. You’re drunk.” he pushed himself off you, but you pulled him back.

"If you say goodbye now, it's goodbye forever." he was right on top of you, his arm supporting him. Hendery opened his mouth, but hesitated to answer. He didn’t know what to do, what to say. When you asked him to be your boyfriend, he refused, but he had a reason, and he wanted to explain, but how would he start that conversation?

You flipped him over and straddled his waist. Wait, this seems a little too familiar. Right, you just got rejected a few hours ago in this very position. You lost your will to continue as soon as you remembered that.

“Y/N, I..”

“I get it. You don’t actually love me or have feelings for me. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. I’ll move out tomorrow.” you got off him. Hendery reached out for you, but he didn’t know if that was the right thing to do. If he reached out for you, he could cause the downfall of the entire group if there are scandals. But, if he doesn’t, he’ll lose you forever. 

---

“YOU WHAT!?” Lucas slammed the door open. His hair was a mess, and although his eyes weren’t fully open, he was awake enough to punch Hendery’s face. Of course, he didn’t punch Hendery because he knew there was no use.

“SHE’S YOUR FIRST LOVE.” Yangyang followed closely behind him. 

“But you guys are my family.” he looked up at them. It was clear that he hadn’t gotten any sleep the last night. He had heard you get up to pack and leave early in the morning. You didn’t even say goodbye.

“Only in these situations you call us your family.” Kun scoffed. 

“Go talk to her, and-” Ten was cooking in the kitchen.

“It’s no use. She’s probably out of the country now. I heard her call someone.” 

“You heard her call someone yet you didn’t bother to stop her from leaving?” Lucas clenched his jaw. He had had enough of Hendery who was now staring blankly at the coffee table.

“Would you do anything to see her smile, or smirk. Maybe laugh for a split second?” Memories flashed before his eyes. The summer days and winter nights you spent together when you were younger. The way your smile was imperfect, yet made his heart skip a beat every single time. The little things such as the way you separated the onions from every dish. Every little thing, and trivial thing, it was all still fresh in his mind. But what could he do? You had already left.

“IS THAT A YES OR A NO.” Lucas was on the verge of losing his mind. Hendery was taking too long. The more time he took, the further you were getting. If he took too long, he might not be able to see you again.

“Y-Yes. I would do anything I could to see her smile, and laugh. I would even pick out the onions in every side dish for her, even if it meant I would get cramps in my hand after all that. I would..” All he could see in his mind was your smile, and your laughter filled his ears. “Fuck, I love her.” Hendery finally realized how much you meant to him. 

“Well then what are you waiting for, let’s go find her!”

---

All 7 of them and a few managers were at the airport, looking for you. 

“Excuse me, can I ask about this flight number..” 

The plane had left. You were no longer in Korea. Lucas and the boys felt dejected. He finally realized he loved you, but you weren’t there to hear his confession. 

“We have a concert in Japan tomorrow. If you leave, you won’t get back in time.” He didn’t know what to do. 

“Ah, sir?” Kun turned to the lady at the counter, “ We received information that a passenger didn’t board the plane. She missed her flight and booked the evening flight.” Right, that clumsy girl must’ve forgotten her passport. 

“Hyung, can I have your car keys?” Hendery asked the manager and drove home immediately.

“Y/N!” You were in your room,  standing in front of the bedside table, and just as he had thought, you forgot to bring your passport. You were about to pick it up when he had you in a bone-crushing hug. You could feel his rapid heart beat against your back.

“H-Hendery?” you were surprised to see that he was back so fast from his dance practice. 

“Please..” he sniffled, “Don’t leave me..” 

“It won’t work out, Hendery. You’re an idol, and I’m a nobody. I’m not worth the time and-”

“No. You’re my love. You’re the only person I love in the whole wide world. You’re worth more than time and money. I’ll even quit being in the group if it means I can spend more time with you. I love you,  Y/N. And I’m sorry I took so long to realize it.” You were in shock, and couldn’t say a word.

“I-If you can’t accept me yet, then.. I’m willing to wait for you.” 

“What are you even saying?” you noticed the tears in his eyes.

“I love you , Hendery.”

[lovecolibri]

Look, these people are only friends when M*ria is in a coma or feels like dating someone. Anything happens to anyone else anytime, oh well, whichever character is randomly in the neighborhood to help, no logic required.

For such a supposedly character-driven season, S3 has been easily the worst in terms of friendship moments. The only people who are actually shown to want to hang out and aren't related are Kylex, but we couldn't get one single team up episode for them all season, even though they both wound up at Deep Sky and parallel each other a lot in general. Remember when Liz had genuinely heartfelt friendship scenes with Michael and Isobel outside of Max? We got a little Michael/Rosa and Michael/Kyle but not nearly enough where I would label them friends now. Liz/Alex was as non-existent as ever, and Kyliz was as one-sided as ever. Most teen shows are terribly written, but I don't think I've ever seen one with writers so bad at maintaining relationships.

For. Serious. And this season actually had the set up for some really good friendship moments! Like you mentioned, Alex and Kyle BOTH ended up at Deep Sky? The head of the organization and Alex's boss who personally did his entrance test is Kyle's uncle?! HOW did we not get so much Kylex brotp this season?! We got one really good Rosa/Liz moment but otherwise nada on that front too. This season is all about the science so whyyyyy are we not getting more Liz/Michael/Kyle scenes?! And as much as I do not like m*ria, why for the love of everything are her and Rosa STILL not having the majority of their scenes together but instead having them separately with Isobel?! If m*ria wanted someone to talk to and be her friend, why is she bitching at Isobel, someone she has always butted heads with and who is her ex's sister who has, naturally, been spending her time with her brother, about it instead of *checks notes* spending time with her actual friend who was resurrected after 10 years and intimately understand having to walk the part human/part alien path?! Why did Gregory come back only to NOT spend any time with his brother, the one way he was connected to the group while they work through their father's death and the shutting down of Project Shepherd and where they go from here together?!

Like ???? Make it make sense! And it's not that all the plotlines this season are bad (NOT YOU Wyatt! Your plotline WAS bad and you can leave forever), but the people who end up involved in them don't always make sense or hit the emotional beat that you would get if it was another character. Why was everyone so worried about m*ria over multiple episodes when Kyle was MISSING at the same time, possibly and then proven injured, and we were purposefully shown him interacting with every character and being the help and support for all of them in the lead up to his disappearance? Why make him the focal point only to have every. single. character. turn their back and forget all about him the moment he needed their help? And not even have a single thing mentioned on screen that anyone else even knew where he was or what was going on with him after Alex learned it but still hadn't told anyone about Deep Sky? And why make him be woken up off screen with no lasting effects and STILL, several episodes later not had him get a hug from his sister or even had her mention him, nor his best friend who also almost died recently. And not another friend of his, his HS sweetheart, basically family, has been kidnapped and possibly injured considering Max would have come out to a puddle of blood and nothing else, and Kyle, the doctor is nowhere to be found and neither is either of the two combat vets who might be useful in planning an infiltration and hostage extraction? You're telling me Alex, after ALL he's done to protect Michael and keep him safe at the expense of his own happiness, isn't there for this?!

[captainscanadian]

Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

 My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Being back in your childhood home had certainly brought you some well-needed inspiration. 

Word Count: 2900+

Pairing: (Eventual) Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader, OMC Harry Nelson x FWB!Reader, Rebecca Barnes x OFC Rosie Bender

Warnings: Heartbreak, Bullying, Grey’s Anatomy Spoilers

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup​‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

When Harry Nelson had first moved to Los Angeles at the age of eighteen, he’d had many dreams of becoming a screenwriter and director. He wanted to make movies that seemed relatable to the general public, with no action sequences or elements of science-fiction, no monsters  or magic, no million dollar budget to be spent on visual effects. Just simple stories about real people, whether it was the kind that made them laugh or the kind that made them cry.

Throughout the span of his twenty-year long career in Hollywood, he had come to realize that the genre of romance movies had their own built-in audience that he could definitely make money off of. The hopeless romantics, as he liked to call them, were a group of people who were always longing to see love stories that don’t necessarily end happily, but still leave them believing that true love existed. 

While he had since directed several romance films that went on to have the cultural impact in the likes of Notting Hill and The Notebook, it hadn’t been until he had met another hopeless romantic did he realize that he was one of them. For a man who never believed in true love, he sure enjoyed love stories. He was a hopeless romantic, as much as he hated to admit it. Whether his story was going to end happily or not, he still had a part to play in it. 

Back when the first instalment of the Hopeless series had turned out to be a success, Harry had simply approached you in request of the movie rights to your novel series. While you hadn’t given in to his request due to not knowing how you might even end the series yourself, he decided to play the long game and wait until you figured out the ending. 

Years had gone by and the two of you had only become best friends, bonding over your mutual love for the romance genre. Many movie nights were spent watching the classics such as Casablanca and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. He had invited you to his premieres and parties, to simply take part in the discourse of what it meant to write a beautiful love story that stood beyond its time. But the friendship you shared had turned to something more when you had found yourselves drunk at an after-party and consumed by lust of all things and not love as one would have assumed. 

Even though becoming one of the love interests in your story had certainly not been his plan all along, he couldn’t complain about it either. A newly single romance novelist and a divorced filmmaker with a knack for romance getting involved with each other was not the strangest thing to take place in Hollywood, not even when you had a ten year age difference. You had kept your arrangement as secretive as you could though, for you did not need the prying eyes of the media to ruin what you had. 

By the time the third instalment had been published, no one had suspected that the muse behind Dr. Jake Winston was Harry Nelson himself. Harry had seemed to figure it out early on though, when you had let him have a glimpse of the first draft. But when he gave you his approval to go ahead with the story, you had made him promise you that he would play the role he helped create if your novels were ever made into movies. Harry had been delighted to accept that if he were to make his acting debut, it would be as one of the love interests of Hope Anderson. 

Being the man who taught you what it felt like to be safe in a relationship, he had always given you a way out of your friendship with benefits. After all, the strings had never been attached to begin with. But that was a path you did not think you would want to take, at least not until now. 

Not that the two of you had managed to drive each other crazy like most Hollywood couples. As unsurprising as that would have been, you felt that you really needed a break from living the California dream and that included what you had with Harry. 

With the fourth and final instalment of your series being due in just a few more months, you found yourself hitting a brick wall with where you wanted Hope Anderson’s story to go. Writer’s block was a curse that you hadn’t really experienced with the last three novels. But inspiration for the fourth novel had just not struck. 

You were well aware that your readers were longing for a happy ending for the girl who had spent a majority of her life being heartbroken. For a strong and career-driven woman like herself, she could easily find someone to settle down with. But that wasn’t what you wanted when it came to the ending of your series. 

You wanted Hope to find some kind of purpose for the journey that she had taken since leaving her hometown for college. You wanted things to be right for her, even if they weren’t necessarily right for you. There needed to be a purpose behind her journey, that was meant to be fulfilled in the final book. 

It had been Harry’s suggestion, being a fellow writer himself, that it might be plausible if the fourth novel took a rather ‘coming-of-age’ kind of path compared to the last three instalment. Reid made her realize that she had moved on too soon, Ethan made her realize that love was messy, and Jake made her realize that there are good men in this world. Neither of these men had been right for her, but then who was? 

“I think our girl Hope needs to go home.” Harry had suggested one night in the midst of your pillow talk. “She hasn’t been home in ten years. I think she needs a little trip of self-discovery, a walk down memory lane… she needs to find herself in order to find her one true love.” 

“What makes you think that she’ll find her true love when she finds herself?” You had asked him, curiously. 

“There’s only one way to find out.” 

The air was crisp as you stepped out of your Uber and grabbed your suitcases from the trunk, leaving a heavy tip for the driver at the end of this dreadfully quiet ride from Indianapolis International Airport to your humble home in Shelbyville, Indiana. 

Being back in this little city after an entire decade in the West Coast sure brought back the good old days for a moment there. But when the cold breeze hit you, you were reminded why you had fled your hometown in the first place. Certainly, you had gotten used to the California sun. But who could blame you though? This place was hell on earth. 

As you dragged your suitcases up the driveway, you could not help but look around the neighborhood that you had grown up in. It seemed as though nothing had changed in the last ten years. Or perhaps, it was just the nostalgia of being back here that made it seem as though everything was still the same when it wasn’t. 

Old man Nick who lived next door still had his ratty old truck parked out front - was that thing still kicking; you couldn’t believe it. The last you heard, his daughters Carol and Maria had moved out to Indianapolis after college and visited the man every now and then. Apparently, he refused to leave Shelbyville as he had lived there his whole life. His wife had lived and died at that house, and he could not see himself leaving behind the memory of her. 

The girls had asked your mother to keep an eye on him, and she had kept an eye on him because she seemed to be the only one in the neighborhood he trusted. Your mother had told you that they were bonding over their mutual empty nest syndrome, but not even her attempt to guilt trip you had brought you back here. 

You hadn’t even bothered to come back here when you had found out that your mother was ill. You had flown her out to Los Angeles instead, and did the best you could to give her the medical care she needed at one of the best hospitals in the country. 

Not even when she had passed away did you ever try to come back and take care of the house she’d left behind for you. You just hated everything about Shelbyville, Indiana, to ever come back. 

But nothing like a little writer’s block to bring you back here. 

You made a mental note to leave a rather sarcastic voicemail for Harry, for convincing you to fly out here on your own and facing a part of your life that you never wanted to return to. God, you hated him sometimes, mostly because he was always right and he seemed to know it. You loved him too. Not the kind of love that destroys you, but the kind that made you realize that you always deserved to feel loved by someone. 

Truth be told, the house was not as bad as you had thought it would be. It just needed a little dusting and maybe a paint job, but it was still your childhood home in every way. Nick had kept it in good shape while you were gone, because your mother had asked him to take care of it in case you had ever thought about coming back home. 

You thanked the man when he handed you the keys, and asked him if you could borrow his truck to run some errands later that day. You just needed to run into town to pick up some groceries and stop by the hardware store to grab some supplies. 

In the meantime, you could use the quiet and the nostalgia to come up with the perfect plot for the final instalment of your novel series. Perhaps you could start off with Hope Anderson returning to her hometown due to her mother being ill, putting a pin on completing her residency and giving herself a break from her arrangement with Jake. 

She spends hours on end sitting by her mother’s bedside, losing her hope as the days rolled by. And when her mother passes away, she copes with her loss by spring cleaning her childhood home and fixing it up. 

*EDIT: 4th love interest? 

You had written a few pages of your first draft when you finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms as you stepped away from your laptop on the dining table. You had been avoiding your childhood bedroom like the plague ever since you had arrived, claiming the master bedroom as yours for the duration of your stay. 

But as you ascended up the creaky stairway and turned the corner to your childhood bedroom, you could have sworn that the last ten years had never gone by. The paint was chipping off of the cream colored walls, multiple posters of the Jonas Brothers pasted against them, never being taken down in your years away. 

You recalled the time you’d had the chance to meet them following their comeback, as one of their wives had starred in one of Harry’s films. You may not have been an overly enthusiastic fangirl on the red carpet, but you were certainly proud of how far you had come from your childhood bedroom. The teenage girl who used to live in this room had clearly grown up, living every dream she’d always had… except one. 

You walked over to the desk at the corner of your room, where the first few scenes of your Grey’s Anatomy fanfiction had been written. You had written more than one hundred thousand words about the undying love between Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey, as though they had never died after that plane crash, not even realizing that the basis of that story would eventually inspire the plot of your third novel. The attending and the resident with a significant age difference - God, could you ever be original with your own writing? 

This was the room where you fell in love with writing, but writing was not the only thing you had fallen in love with at the time. On the bulletin board above your desk remained one photograph, being held together by a thumb tack. 

You remembered the day after your high school graduation, when you had forcefully ripped out most of the photographs you had pinned to that bulletin board and chucked them in the trash bin, along with the feelings you had for the seventeen year old boy who was in those photographs with you. 

A part of you wanted to rip up the last remaining photograph that still remained on that bulletin board, but the ten years you had been away had certainly suppressed the anger you felt towards him. So instead, you left that photo where it was and returned to your laptop, picking up your writing from where you had left off but the thought of him now lingering through your mind. 

James Buchanan Barnes. Your best friend. Your first love. Your first heartbreak. The reason why Hope Anderson’s love life, and yours, had become hopeless in the first place. Perhaps the best way to end this story was to go back to the very beginning, to where it all had started, to the man who had been a part of her life before Jake, Ethan and Reid. 

“Oh Harry, you son of a bitch!” 

Dr. James Barnes let out a yawn as he eyed the CT scans in front of him, even though it was only the beginning of his twelve hour call shift. Only into the second year of his three year residency in emergency medicine, he was starting to familiarize with the intensity of his life as an emergency room physician. Sleepless nights were only the bare minimum. 

Not that he could not handle the stress of running the ER one day, but Bucky was well aware that outside of the walls of Shelbyville Hospital, he did not have a life. No girlfriend to go home to, no hobbies to kill time with and no friends from outside of work to hang out with. Work, sleep, repeat… life was starting to get boring for the poor twenty-eight year old man. 

“You look miserable.” Rosie Bender, the ER nurse on call and Bucky’s former classmate, remarked cheekily at her friend before she slipped into the seat next to him. 

He shot her a fake smile as he set down his patient file back onto the rack, leaning back in his chair and looked over at the nurse. “I’m just bored as fuck, Rosie. As you can see, the ER’s pretty quiet tonight. I just want something to do.” 

“If you’re so bored, you can help me make some calls. I have to finalize the number of people who are coming to this thing by the end of the week. The catering people have been asking for numbers… and don’t even get me started on picking the menu.” 

For the woman who had been head of the Prom Committee back in senior year, planning their ten year reunion was supposed to be a piece of cake. But Rosie was struggling with juggling all of the responsibilities that came with planning this reunion, being the only who seemed to care so much about being able to reunite with some old friends from what had been the best four years of her life. Why did no one else care about this as much as she did?

Truth be told, Bucky could care any less about this so-called ten year reunion. He was well aware that the one person he would be hoping to see would never show up. You hadn’t even come back to town when your mother had gotten sick, let alone to this stupid reunion that was meant to be a remainder of your senior year - the memory that he had ruined for you by being so inconsiderate towards your feelings for him. 

He could never forgive himself for what he had done to you, and to think that he would never have the chance to apologize to you in person. He fucked up, and he pushed away the one friend he had. If he could just see you one last time and tell you how sorry he was, Bucky would give anything. But he knew that all hope was lost on that, at least until Becca Barnes had come rushing into the ER. 

He had just assumed that she was only dropping off some dinner for him and Rosie, but instead she looked over at the two of them with beaming eyes. “You two are not going to believe who I ran into at the hardware store just now...” 

“Is old man Nick renovating the Y/L/Ns’ house again because he’s bored?” Rosie perked up at her girlfriend, giggling softly as she stood from her chair to lean over the desk and peck her lips. 

“No, but close…” The younger Barnes chirped before she turned to her brother. “Y/N’s back in town.” 

Perhaps, all of his hope was not lost after all. 

[gohyuck]

this is for the nct prompt thingy. i hope my choices aren’t boring 🥺✊ member: jaemin au: 10 trope:4 scenario prompt: 5

based on this post

i’m also adding another request i got to this one:

jaemin + tangible pls

notes: prom night!! and pretty much just fluff with a small bit of angst at the beginning

10: neighbors

4: coming of age

5: “i’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

enjoy! part 2 here

being the president of the student council has its perks - you get to have a say in a decent amount of the major decisions that go on in your high school, and you get to do things like visit your prom venue (the top floor of a hotel this year, overlooking the entire city) weeks beforehand just to ensure that your classmates will love it. you got to design the class ring, and help lead student sections at football games. you wouldn’t give up your role for anything, and you know it.

still, right now, as you feel your high school world almost crashing down around you, you’re painfully away of the negative aspects of your job. prom ended two hours ago, and you’ve only just finished clean-up. the rest of your officers had left thirty minutes ago - you’d ushered them out yourself, wanting all of them to enjoy their prom nights in the way you wouldn’t be able to do so yourself. you’d stayed behind to help the caterers clean up and even managed to stay after all the chaperones had left, almost hell-bent on being alone in the end. 

it’s only as you say your final goodbyes to the hotel staff and make your way into the parking garage that you let your tears start to fall. 

you no longer have a ride home, and you really don’t want to bother your parents at 2 in the morning. getting a rideshare would involve paying with money you really don’t have. before you can talk yourself out of it, you dig your phone out of your clutch, searching for the contact of the one person who might be able to get you home at this hour. you press call. you rush to wipe your tears and stabilize your breathing, praying that you’ll sound normal on the phone. 

jaemin picks up on the third ring, and you realize immediately that he’s at a party, or a club, or something. regret climbs up your throat - you don’t want to tear him away from the fun he must be having. you almost hit the glaring red end call button, but his voice interrupts your actions. 

“(name)? what’s up? are you okay?”

you’re pleasantly surprised by the worry behind his words, but you’re quick to reassure him that yes, you’re fine, you’re just a little bit stranded at the hotel and if he could please give you a ride home, you’d be indebted to him forever. he agrees without qualms, and assures you that no, the party behind him isn’t very interesting, and that you aren’t doing him a disservice by calling him away from it. it takes him almost no time at all to get to where you are, and you realize he must’ve been at one of the clubs nearby. 

you wonder what it’s like. 

he opens the passenger door for you and ushers you in like a regular gentleman, and it isn’t until you’re settled down and buckled in in his beaten down honda civic that he asks the question you’re dreading. 

“didn’t you go with bradley?” his eyes don’t waver from the stretch of highway ahead of him, and it’s obvious he’s just trying to make small talk. still, you can’t help the sigh that escapes you. jaemin finally glances over, concern etching his features. 

“he left with alina halfway through,” you say, a sad smile turning up one corner of your mouth. “and left me rideless.”

“that bastard...” jaemin starts before trailing off, muttering angrily to himself, and you’re reminded of how protective he can be over his friends. though you don’t run in the same circles - his friend group is comprised mostly of the dance team, and yours is mostly your friends from student council and yearbook - you’ve managed to maintain some form of a relationship with jaemin throughout high school, in part due to the fact that his house is right next door to yours. 

“it’s fine, jaem - him and i weren’t a couple anyways.” you tell him, and he only gives a tight-jawed, curt nod in your response. you realize you’ve reached your neighborhood only when he turns onto your street. you’re prepared to give him a genuine thanks and a cursory goodnight until he drives directly into the driveway rather than stopping in front of your house. 

“did you forget that i’m here?” you tease him, though you’re thoroughly confused. he laughs before shaking his head, pressing the button above his head to open his garage. 

“how could i forget you?” he smiles directly at you after he parks, and under the fluorescent lights of his garage you realize just how handsome he looks in the dark blue suit he has on. you knock your shoulder against his as a way of responding to him, and the both of you share a grin. 

“but seriously, though, what are we doing here?”

“well i live here, so there’s that.” jaemin points out. before you can snark back at him, he waves a hand towards the passenger’s side door. “get out of my car and into my house and you’ll find out.”

♕ ♕ ♕

a few minutes later, you’re sitting on top of jaemin’s dining table with your feet - your heels long gone - resting on the chair in front of you. he’s scooping ice cream into a two bowls at the island as you watch. both of his parents, as professors at a nearby college, are off at a three day, two night conference, so he has the house to himself. 

jaemin hands you your bowl, though not before sticking a dessert spoon in it. you watch with equal parts horror and fascination as he pours soy sauce onto his own vanilla ice cream, and he sends you a cheeky wink when he catches your disgusted stare. 

“you’re a goblin, na.” you state, shaking your head. he can’t help but laugh at you as he pulls the chair out from under your feet and sits down on it. 

“what? it helps me with my lactose intolerance.” as if to emphasize his point, he digs in, making sure you’re watching as he places a spoonful of his concoction on his tongue. 

“mmm, it’s so incredibly delicious. why don’t you give it a try?” he grins up at you, and you fake gag at him in response. the two of you continue to banter back and forth as you eat, and, soon enough, bradley is out of your mind for good. it isn’t until after jaemin washes your dishes - “i can help, jaem-” “and get that gorgeous dress wet? not fucking likely.” - that you realize you should probably get home. he walks you to the front door and you give him a hug and say your thank you and goodnight. 

you’re genuinely surprised when he follows you outside. 

“dude, i live right there.” you point at your front door, which is hardly 20 feet away from you. jaemin gives you a sheepish smile before shrugging his shoulders. 

“it’s 3 in the morning. i’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.” 

you shake your head in disbelief, though neither of you can ignore the smile that spreads across your face. you look up at him, and the way he looks back at you is so heartbreakingly tender that you find your own smile fading fast as your face relaxes itself. any response you might’ve had dies in your throat. 

jaemin hadn’t gone to prom with a date, the voice in the back of your head reminds you. he’d left his best friends to come pick you up, and he’s been the first person to make you smile all night. he looks impossibly good in the moonlight, dark hair tussled artistically and his single, dangly earring framing his jawline. in the moment, he seems realer to you than he ever has before. he’s concrete. tangible. 

before you can stop yourself, you lay a hand against one of his lapels and search your eyes with his. 

“can i kiss you?” your voice is more sure than you can give yourself credit for. jaemin, to his own right, lets his hands fall onto your waist naturally before nodding. you lean up as he leans down, and as the two of you meet in the middle, you can’t help but feel like something’s fallen into place. 

as you pull away from him, though, only one thing is on your mind...

... and your tongue. 

“you’re so lucky you’re a good kisser,” you say, not stepping away from him. before he can question you, you keep speaking. “because you taste like soy sauce, you big idiot!”

[mirrorballls]

* jacob elordi, male + he/him  | you know stephen maldonado, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, their whole life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to jerk by the front bottoms like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole dark denim jackets littered in pins paired with ratty white nikes, brow seemingly held frozen in a consistently furrowed brow, and empty bottle of mountain dew code red stuffed with cigarette butts thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 13, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

hi.

one more time with feeling (until i stupidly take up my fourth muse ASAP).  liz (she/they, 23, est) AKA auld liz syne#2288 on discord.edu. anyways every squad got the Extremely Normal Guy and sometimes that’s stephen. 

basics.

full name:  stephen casey maldonado. birthday:  november 13, 1997. big three:  scorpio sun, capricorn moon, taurus rising. sexuality:  bisexual. occupation:  guest service representative at the palm motel. neighborhood: grew up in the orion avenue area, now lives in delphinus heights.

bio.

stephen was raised by irving stock. his parents were hometown sweethearts that started dating when his mom was a sophomore and his dad was a junior and somehow, they made that last. they never wanted more than to live in their little home by the beach with their family and the community they were so attached to. his mother was a social worker and his father was a firefighter and they loved their little suburban life. they had kids and got involved in their neighborhood play groups and that classic idea of the little house and the two kids and an abundance of hometown spirit.

death tw. when stephen was seven, his dad died. it was sudden, unexpected, not even related to his work or anything. it was just like one morning he was there and the next he wasn’t. and it hit his family hard. he had always been close with his dad, and after this, he became immortalized to stephen as a hero. he still bumps into people in irving who’ll have a story about how his dad, who he barely got to know, and how he was this amazing guy that he should strive to be like. it’s given him something of a complex. he’s got this idea of the person he needs to be an he’s scrambling to piece that together. it’s just not as easy to him as all the old stories lead him to believe it would be.

through it all, his mom and his sister grew closer, and stephen began to feel like something of an outsider in his own family. it wasn’t their fault, it was natural. they had things in common, a similar temperament, just these natural things bonding them that stephen wasn’t apart of. he was already spending a lot of time hanging out at other neighborhood kids houses while his mom worked, so it wasn’t a stretch for him to stick around when he realized he had more fun there than at home. so he became one of those kids that would just bounce between friends houses and look for any opportunity for a group hang or sleepover. 

middle school stephen was that kid who wanted to be really funny and athletic and likable but always fell short. he wasn’t horrible by any means, he was just kind of a dork, by middle school standards. when high school came around, he was determined to rebrand himself, and it sort of worked. he grew out of his awkward phase, got a pass for his daily uniform of ratty flannels and hand-me-down levis from his mom’s friend’s kids, because now it was grunge and it was an aesthetic. he never had the confidence to try and pass himself off as Truly Cool, but he found a way to make his whole thing work as like a pretentious kind of cool guy. 

but what he did not realize is while being pretentious earned him street cred with a certain group, it also made him kind of a jerk. he always had to be right or like assert his opinion even when no one fucking asked. bit pathetic. but sometimes that’s the price of being a depressed indie king....

when he graduated, he got into hospitality. part of it was a fluke: when his friends all went off to college, he needed a job. so he took one working nights at the palm motel, because it was the best pay he could find and he was still able to sleep in on weekdays which was an epic win in his mind.  in the end though, he ended up loving it. it’s corny and he’d never admit it to anyone because he has a reputation to uphold, but he loves getting to feel like he’s giving the tourists that come through town a special little home away from home. he knew he loved the feeling of getting away, even if it was just down the street, when he was a kid, and he likes giving that feeling to other people. it was also around this time he started getting serious with his girlfriend and they moved into their own little place they could barely afford but still skillfully and thriftfully decorated and it felt like everything was really coming together.

like sure it wasn’t his parent’s perfect marriage and beautiful community serving jobs, but it felt like something close. something precious he could have and be proud of and use to get to sleep at night with a hope that his dad would be proud too, if he could see it.

but that was years ago, and now things have taken a turn for the worse. things lose their glimmer, over time. he still loves the idea of working at the motel, and has even worked his way up the ranks over his time there, but now working as a guest service rep, he’s dealt with enough pissed-off moms and spring breakers that fuck shit up for fun to last him a lifetime. “disgusting-little-man”gate hasn’t been great for business and he’s having to face the facts that there may not be much else for him left at the palm, but he’s also too broke to really stop and reassess the situation. icing on the cake has been his recent breakup and his car getting two flat tires at once, landing him in the ideal situation: living with his ex-girlfriend that he still has feelings for with no clue what’s gonna happen next in his life. funny sadman falls on hard times :pensive:

plotting ideas.

friends/acquaintances because he’s weirdly socialized!

enemies/people he’s pissed off being a pretentious [redacted]!

it’s always weird to ask for cousins but honestly i love extended family stuff be my cousin.

tinder date he fucked up by being too emotional about being recently dumped!

tinder date that went better and they hooked up but then he ghosted because he’s a bit out of it!

i’m out of ideas to just vaguely list but..... we talk and we plot something amazing okay?

[thebonggirll]

Chapter 21 - Hero Name

Chapter 20

After the sports festival, Iida's big brother was all over the news. It turned out that he was attacked in Hosu City, Tokyo. The person responsible apparently already killed 17 heroes in the past, and hurt 23 heroes so badly that they were beyond recovery. He is known as the elusive hero killer, Stain. The first thing Y/N did after reaching home and hearing the news was to send him a text about her concerns. But Iida soon called her, telling her not to worry about it at all.

She knew it wasn't fine. It was the tone he was talking in. There was something different. He was upset but she couldn't push him to talk about the issue. They weren't that close and she thought that he needed some time. As if it wasn't enough that he was going through such a hard time, that the media was speaking about it daily. But that wasn’t all that they focused on.

In the days after the sports festival ended, Y/N wasn't left so alone by the paparazzi after the revelation of her identity and her family background. They were there whenever she was out with her friends, or with her family - all eager to get some reaction out of her about the viral picture of her and Todoroki. She was just glad that it wasn't as inappropriate, as she feared. But well, some of the media was ruthless as usual and so was some of the comments. While most articles about her were positive, some of them were used mainly to slander her brother and family's image. That was their target anyway. To find some kind of dirt in the entertainment industry, especially an idol that the public adored. Y/N might've been kept away from such things by her parents but she knew all about how media worked and what would make people click on their content.

But she was glad that her brother also had some really good number of fans who criticized the articles. Although her parents did have the power to take the articles down because of defamation, they didn't do it. According to Y/N's own words, she didn't want her parents to interfere or take any steps on behalf of her. That will give more ideas to the media about how "her influential family were making sure to shut them up with their power". And besides, she wasn't under their company that they will file "defamation" against them.

The next day after the sports festival, Y/N woke up in the afternoon and the first thing she did was to check the social media, ofcourse. Her phone was blowing up. She gained a good number of followers but then she did notice the viral pictures and videos.

Todoroki was melting the ice stuck on her feet and holding onto her waist and balancing her weight. After a moment when the ice was halfway melted, Todoroki hugged her close, making sure she didn't fall on her ass and cause anymore injury. Her head slowly moved forward and rested on his chest. When he was done melting the ice, the medical team came and took her in.

Oh, these pictures and videos had some creative headlines too.

'Endeavor's son and Y/L/N's daughter gives off a cinematic ending!' , 'Todoroki melts ice for Y/N, along with our hearts! ' , 'A new bubbling love in hero course.'

And ofcourse, the comments under it. Some were really nasty - nitpicking on her physical appearance, her flaws, how she's not cut out for hero course, how she could've been better as an idol like Haruto. But some were really good - appreciating her powers, her incredible moves on Iida and Shiozaki, how she was the only girl on the top three position.

She avoided meeting with Shinsou in fear of getting him dragged in another controversy, but they did start talking. Although, she knew she had to give a statement about all the rumors and she was more than ready to give a piece of her mind. She talked to Todoroki about it and apologized for involving him in anything like this. One thing that she learned from her attempt to befriend Shinsou for her benefit is that "communication is the key" and apologizing helps lighten the burden of carrying a guilt.

And obviously, class 1-A group chat was filled with her classmates teasing both of them except for some like Tokoyami, Momo and Bakugou.

After her little bold statement on her way home, she felt a bit shy to talk to him again. Yes, she did look at him with her cheeks going red but she knew she needed to do this. So that Bakugou couldn't suspect anything. He would be suspicious if she avoided looking at him completely.

But the thing is...it felt like even Bakugou was avoiding speaking to her. It just became awkward. She didn't know how to start talking and he had no idea what to talk or tease her about when he knew the kind of reaction he had on his face, the time she left.

He was blushing, but he wasn't sure if she noticed it. If she did, it would definitely feel awkward talking to her. And for Bakugou to feel like this was a first for him. He never felt awkward to talk to someone. He always had one outburst and it was enough for the other person to talk back to him. They were always fighting and teasing each other, sure, but it turned out to be difficult when both of them spoke their minds for the very first time to each other. They spoke sincerely with each other and he was aware of that.

When Y/N entered the class, her friends weren't teasing her about the incident anymore when they learned how it upset her. She looked at her seat and the blonde sitting before her, who was looking out of the window, his face resting on his hand.

She quietly walked and sat down with a sigh leaving her lips. Kyoka along with Midoriya joined to talk to her.

"So? How did it go? What did you say to the reporters?" Kyoka asked.

"When I came out of the house, some of the reporters were already there, so I just decided to listen to them for once. Besides, it looked like some of these reporters were rookies. And I just said that he is a friend and because I was in a bad situation, he just decided to help me out. And that was what any hero would've done in their situation. If he is going to be a hero, then he will help millions of people out there," Y/N said, "And I said, instead of following around an idol's sister for a topic that most of the public won't care about unless it involves my family, they should concentrate on other news. They would never get a hot topic out of me."

"And that's it right? You didn't go overboard with your rant right?" Midoriya questioned her nervously.

"....No."

"You fucking did, didn't you?" Kyoka sighed, furrowing her brows.

"Look it wasn't too harsh and they did infact leave me alone. I just said that all those companies that made articles like this are all listed by Haruto's agency and they know now exactly who are after to slander their image or make money out of misinformations. It would take them one word from me and my parents to file a restraining order against all of them and get police protection if they further continue to follow me or are seen anywhere near our neighborhood. I was polite."

"Darling, you need to understand that you are pretty fucking rude even when you talk politely. You'll be lucky if they don't hate you after that." Kyoka said.

"Nah, I just asked them to work on something they are genuinely passionate about. Not only would they enjoy it, they will also make sure it is done perfectly. And I am sure their news agency would appreciate the work when it's done. I just gave them some pep talk and support, that's it. Besides, I'm sure they didn't become journalists to stalk some celebrity's sister."

"Does everyone in our class talking about themselves getting famous bother you?" Midoriya asked.

"What? No, ofcourse not. Dude, even I enjoy some attention. You know, about my abilities and stuff. But not this much where they'll follow me everywhere. That shit is annoying."

The door opened and Aizawa walked in saying, "Morning."

"Ribbit, Mr. Aizawa you don't have bandages anymore. That's good news." Tsuyu said.

"The old lady went a little overboard in her treatment. Anyway, we have a big class today on Hero Informatics," Aizawa replied, "You need codenames. Time to pick your hero identities. This is related to the pro hero draft picks the last time we were in class together. Normally students don't have to worry about their draft yet, not until they're in the second or third year actually. But your class is different. Infact, by extending offers to first years like you, pros are investigating on your potential. Any offers can be resended if their interest in you dies down before graduation."

"So what you're saying is that we've still got to prove ourselves after we gotten recruited?" Toru asked.

"Correct." Aizawa said and turned around, "Now here are the totals for those of you got offers."

The board didn't have everyone's name. Ofcourse, Todoroki and Bakugou got the most with 4123 and 3556 offers respectively. And then there was Y/N Y/L/N with 1812 offers. She didn't expect much because of the recent rumors and fainting during the fight, but half of her knew some would contact her in the hope of getting exposure and fame.

And she just needed some information from her parents about which hero agency is associated with which other companies, if she wanted to work on her skill. Oh yeah, Y/N wanted to work on her quirk control. She needed to know more about her quirk.

"In past years it was more spread out. But there's a pretty huge gap this time." Aizawa said.

"Todoroki got the most ahead of Bakugou?" Kyoka commented.

"Yeah, it's the opposite of how they were placed in the festival." Kirishima said.

"They probably weren't eager to work with a guy who had to be chained up in the end." Sero said.

"If I scared a pro, they're just weak!" Bakugou yelled, as expected.

"Nah, I think most of them just find you hard to deal with." Y/N muttered.

"I can hear you bastard!" Bakugou said, looking at her. She looked back up, trying her best to suppress her smile, relieved that not much has changed between them. Bakugou looked at her expression and it reminded him of what they talked about. Within two seconds, he whipped his head back and was staring at Aizawa.

Aizawa continued, ignoring the comments, "But every single one of you have to work under a hero. Eventhough you have an idea of how villains attack, working alongside of proheros is good for experience and knowledge how things work. And for that you need hero names. Keep in mind, this these hero names are going to be temporary. But take them seriously, or -"

"-you'll have hell to pay later." Midnight completed his sentence and walked in the class.

Aizawa took out his sleeping bag and said before getting in, "Midnight's going to have final approval over your names. It's not my forte."

Y/N looked at the white board passed on to her by Bakugou in front of her. She took it and passed the rest back. Looking around the class, she observed some done in seconds while some staring at the white board. She knew that if she named herself something awful, it might be stuck with her forever, especially when media has a few eyes set on her. A number of people went before her, but she finally found a name. Something that described her quirk and, well, she heard a conspiracy theory about it. Slowly, Y/N raised her hand as Midnight called her.

She blushed looking at the whole class staring at her and said, "I-I like the name - Europa." She immediately heard Midnight's enthusiastic voice reacting to her choice of hero name, and felt relieved.

"Excellent choice! You named it after Jupiter's moon which has an ocean of liquid water beneath the ice?"

"Yes ma'am." She smiled in contentment and went back to her seat.

She peeked from behind Bakugou's shoulder trying to look at his name. He immediately shot his head back and looked at her with a frown, feeling her presence. He was finding it difficult to come up with a name.

"What?" Y/N asked with an innocent face.

"Don't put that crap in front of me grandma."

"...I told you to stop calling me that." Y/N smacked his shoulder lightly.

Bakugou didn't react to it and got up to present his hero name, King Explosion Murder, which amused Y/N and she hid her face, trying not to laugh out loud. He was told to change it but once again, he just changed the word King to Lord.

Aizawa got out from his sleeping bag, and rearranged the forms saying, "Now that everyone has decided on their hero names, we can go back to talk about your upcoming internships. That will last for one week. As for who you'll be working with, those of you are mentioned on board and got offers will get to choose from them. Everyone else will have a different list. You've a lot to think about. There are around 48 agencies around the country who've agreed to take on interns from your class. Each agency has a different specialty that it's heroes focus on, keep that in mind. So think carefully and turn in your choices before the weekend. You're dismissed."

After putting much thought about what agency to join, she decided to take on the offer from the Aquamarine Agency near Tokyo Bay. She did some research and found out the kind of agency it was. Since Tokyo is a busy city, there are agencies that handle small parts of the city. And the biggest agency working to keep the waters of Tokyo Bay safe was this particular agency. Since it is a big city, there's also a few murders and deaths that the agency has to inform to the police. And often they have to fight villains to avoid such instances. The risk was high, but if Y/N wanted to put effort on controlling her quirk and learning about strength, offensive techniques as well as the defensive ones, she had to work here.

It wasn't so surprising for her to find that Bakugou joined the No.4 Hero Jeanist. She figured, he would join something that was top dog, something that dealt with more fights. Midoriya got one offer from someone and he wanted to join, because he trained All Might as well. Kyoka joined Death Arms Hero Agency and Todoroki joined Endeavor. She guessed it was Midoriya's influence that made him finally be able to handle stuffs about his father maturely. But the one that bugged her the most was Iida's choice of agency. She didn't know whether it was just a coincidence but she had every reason to doubt considering the location of the agency was Hosu City.

Maybe she was just overthinking, but Y/N felt something was going on with Iida. Midoriya and Ochaco told him to talk to them when everyone was at the station with their luggage, leaving for their internship. He replied with just a 'yes' and left.

His smile should've been enough to convince them, but it wasn't. His body language was screaming the exact opposite.

Chapter 22

SEASON - II

Ignite

MASTERLIST

tags: @captncappuccino​