#there’s just miscommunication. lots of it.

[northopalshore]

♱ Mars in the ♱

Union persona chart

Mars in the Union (1585) persona chart tells you how you will pursue your significant other when you first meet. Even if one party shows more effort into the initial courting, it's still important to note that both need to show their interests and effort into forming a relationship as well (or it wouldn't be a relationship!) That is what we'll be looking at in this post. Please check your UPC Mars sign, house & degree.

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Masterlist | Union persona chart Masterlist

Foreign spouse indicators | Union predictions | Attractive Spouse Indicators

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Here are a few things to note before we get into it;

The 0° degree bares no significant meaning on its own but it does enhances (draws more attention to) whatever sign it's in or aspects that it makes.

Retrograde in this scenario can make one more reluctant to make a move, or you may second guess your efforts often, in some cases it may seem like you are avoidant at first or many things are distracting you from pursuing them

Conjuncting Sun you will do a lot to showcase your personality & best traits to them (trying to impress them with how cool you are ). Persistence is also a common theme with you.

Conjuncting Mercury a lot of your efforts may be shown online i.e texting, face time

Conjuncting Moon there may be a lot of emotional back & forth on your end, like emotional crash outs at times or overwhelming feelings, feeling divided

Square Union asteroid meeting up with them may be difficult & may require special (more) effort on your part.

It's not how your spouse will pursue you, but how you will pursue your spouse.

♱ Aries (°1,°13,°25) & The 1st House

With this placement, you are most likely the more active pursuer in this relationship. Being the one to actually go by "Don't chase, attack" (lmaoo). You can crave their attention, and always have a way to intercept yourself into their lives or plans. Tagging along to trips or something. Your whole body will show that you are interested. Trouble comes from personal problems, time management, acting without consent or planning (doing what you want instead of what your partner may want), rivalry, short temper, assuming things according to your desires, lack of patience, selfishness and ignorance.

♱ Taurus (°2,°14,°26) & The 2nd House

Okay, money is definitely something you will be using to get closer to them. You could spend money on them or to get to them (especially if they live away from you), you'll be spending money on your own expenses just to be closer to them for example. Frequenting a place they work (as a customer). Buying them gifts, making sure you look good and attractive when you're going to see them; you want your makeup or outfit to look perfect every time. Looking like a catch to get them to want you more (lol). Arguments or hardships on your end come from money (or a lack of money), stubbornness, selfishness & a sense of responsibility.

note: similar effect if aspecting venus

♱ Gemini (°3,°15,°27) & The 3rd House

Sharing your thoughts, starting conversations, non-stop talking, exploring new topics and asking what they think about it, sharing jokes & memes, asking for their opinion it's like every time you think of something randomly in the day, you'll talk about it with your partner later. This placement makes you especially curious about them; like you want to know what they're made of. You may ask them a lot of questions too or tell them a lot of things they might not know about to make you seem smart lol. Fights or frustrations stem from miscommunication, gossip, language barriers and mistrust or suspicion.

note: similar effect if aspecting mercury

♱ Cancer (°4,°16,°28) & The 4th House

Being more.. submissive in a way? Here, you will be showing them how vulnerable and flawed i.e human you are. You may allow them have some sort of personal view into your life and let them help you or guide you (letting down your walls for them). Showing them a more relaxed and needy part of yourself. You may start to have disagreements or arguments when your emotions go haywire or when you (both) let your personal feelings get the best of you i.e pettiness, emotional attachments, clinginess.

note: similar effect if aspecting moon

♱ Leo (°5,°17,°29) & The 5th House

You could rely on a lot mutual attraction and wild fun when pursuing your partner romantically. A love for the arts and physical thrills; you'll want you partner to associate you with a good time. Seggs. There could be a lot of sex aha, Ya Nasty. (Though it's not completely limited to that sort of fun, there is a natural inclination to be drawn into physical pleasure for the sake of it). If you do argue, it's likely about the things you find enjoyable, children & inflated egos.

note: similar effect if aspecting jupiter

♱ Virgo (°6,°18) & The 6th House

You guessed it. They'll be part of your routine. You may try to find ways to have them in your daily schedule, and really make an effort to get closer to them; keeping promises to meet, making plans. However, with Virgo I find that you are more cautious when pursuing your partner. You will overthink, and be more observant. You might stalk their socials as well lol. Only because you are serious about pursuing something with them. You'll show a lot of effort, and if they show it first you will make sure that it's reciprocated. You reassure your partner, and that's usually what they notice most about you when "pursuing" them! If arguments occur, they will usually be centered around your work i.e having no time to be with them, conflicting schedules.

note: similar effect if aspecting saturn

♱ Libra (°7,°19) & The 7th House

You will charm your partner with your down to earth, high morality, well mannerisms, fairness and poised argumentative qualities. You will always make sure you look good around them, and may keep a certain look (*cough Flyn Rider-esque) that you are sure will knock them straight outta the park. You may also prefer to take them out on traditionally aesthetic but also thought provoking dates often ; movies, museum & galleries. The key for you is debating. What you may argue (or what causes tension) comes from the topic of your debates itself, work or professionalism or marriage & commitment (the idea of it).

note: similar effect if aspecting Venus

♱ Scorpio (°8,°20) & The 8th House

You might be taking a lot of risks for them, or doing something you aren't supposed to just to get closer to your (FS/this ) partner. Illicit affairs, secret rendezvous, disobedience ( going against someone's wishes to be with them) or even meeting up somewhere without telling anyone often. Something about it is quite scandalous. If fights occur, it will be related to jealousy, exes, trauma & petty rivalry (either between the both of you or with someone else).

note: similar effect if aspecting pluto

♱ Sagittarius (°9,°21) & The 9th House

In order to woo your partner, you will likely be taking them out to interesting places that are fun, spontaneous and are able to showcase your intelligence, optimism and reliability. You'll likely be doing a lot to impress them with your broad mindset and talents. You'll want to show your partner that you are both a do-er & a thinker. Perhaps you have many capable qualities that you wish to share with them to make 'em like you more. In terms of arguments that you may face or obstacles it's likely going to be related to your studies, language, passport, citizenship or some sort of seniority (one being older or of a higher status than the other).

note: similar effect if aspecting mercury

♱ Capricorn (°10,°22) & The 10th House

As a means to keep your partners attention on you, you may show them how reliable, stable and useful you are. You could show them a lot of (new) things or take the lead / control when you get together; being the person they can rely on. You could do things for them, purchase things for them or be the one to help them make decisions . Your career, father, control issues or public image may cause friction in your relationship and you may argue or feel reluctant due to it.

note: similar effect if aspecting saturn

♱ Aquarius (°11,°23) & The 11th House

You'll be letting them into your social circle, getting to know their friends and also hanging out with them. Showing them something new. You believe the way to their heart is to know them as a person. You'll enjoy a lot of interesting conversations, calling them, texting them and just hanging out. You'll show them how different you are compared to the people they've dated before for example. Showing them how smart, quirky, fun & genuine you can be. Arguments stem from selfishness, freedom, time spent with friends, erratic feelings, comparison, lack of compassion & disingenuousness.

note: similar effect if aspecting uranus

♱ Pisces (°12,°24) & The 12th House

You might travel to your partner a lot, being the one to come to them or invite them over to you. I find that with this placement, you will do a lot just to be able to be around them or closer to them; sacrificing anything that needs to be sacrificed i.e money, time, energy (usually energy). You'll try your best with this placement. In a way, you want to appear "cool" to them, but on a slower pace compared to Leo. Arguments, frustrations, misunderstandings, illusions, fears, something being hidden from you, long distance, being ignored or left on read.

note: similar effect if aspecting neptune

support?

Thank you for reading, hope this helps ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore union predictions 2025 all rights reserved.

[pinkyqily]

ONLY YOURS - JUJU WATKINS X READER

Summary: Because of recent speculation, online, it makes you rethink your relationship with juju.

Warning: cursing, angst to fluff, reader bluffing, miscommunication from r

Author's note: this fic was requested by @atditsitzjt and I hope you enjoy reading this, we love Otto in this house, I just needed someone who juju is close to build up fic tension.

feedbacks are always welcome and happy readings readers 💐

To be honest, you had no reason to think that juju would cheat on you.

But overthinking is a bitch and that how you and juju found yourself in this messy position in you're relationship.

It all started with when you saw a comment about how juju is always with Otto and doesn't she have a girlfriend to go to.

That comment didn't bother you at all until the sudden change of your algorithm.

You started seeing post of people shipping them together, pictures that looked way too intimate.

how they are always together from practice to hanging outside of campus together.

You felt like your heart got twisted and toyed with. You waited until she would come over to your place to try and bring it up, not wanting to jump into conclusion yet wanting to give her the benefit of doubt.

Juju came around, and she could tell something was wrong, but she didn't want to push your buttons after the long day she had.

You both enjoyed each other company, but the sense of lingering tension was obviously in the air and if anyone was to enter the room they would most likely feel suffocated.

You were laying on your girlfriend as she scrolled through her phone on Instagram.

But you couldn't keep quite anymore and got off her, she looked at you a confused.

you cleared your throat to speak.

"So you and Otto hang out with each other a lot." You started with.

"Yeah, she's my best friend, you know that." She said.

"You guys are really close for best friend".

"What point are you trying to make?". She said, looking irritated.

"I'm gonna be straight with you, Juju are you cheatin-. Before you could finish you heard her cut you off. "Don't you finish that sentence, what made you come to this." The way she reacted caught you off guard.

"Oh, I'm sorry that my supposed girlfriend loves hanging out with her best friend more than her actual gf, that it has the internet speculating if you guys are dating".

"You have to be serious, you're getting your claims from delusional people on the internet?". She said looking really hurt by the not so accusation you put against her.

"Yeah because they make more sense than whatever your fucking saying juju".

"What can't you understand she's my best friend just because we're always together, means nothing to me." You heard her say, she tired grabbing your hands but you simply moved back creating more space between the two of you.

"But it does to me do you ever think about how I would feel huh, you don't see me always hanging out with my best friend like that". You told her getting upset that she couldn't understand your point of view.

"One she's been with me since day one, she works with the team too, so of course we're always gonna be at the same place two just because we're always together means nothing to me". She explained to you. Grabbing both your hands as she continued speaking

"You're my girlfriend, not her, the person I love and adore you make me feel all sorts of things when we're together."

You felt a little shakend, she was someone who was always straight foward but doesn't to pushy with it. You had nothing to say to her they only thing you could do was leave the living room.

where you both we're staying so you could get some air.

You felt like a huge asshole for doubting her. What type of partner accuses there significant other, onto of that you use the internet as some type of excuses just because of your insecurities instead of communicating with her.

Oh you felt bad, after what felt likes hours but was only a few minutes you went back inside after staying outside. Juju was just how you left her, she was sitting on the arm of the couch fidgeting with her fingers.

You stood in front of her, but there was still the lack of distance between two of you.

You started by saying

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have accused you like that I don't know what wrong with me everything people were saying just got to me". You told her.

"I'm not gonna lie, your accusations hurt me, especially when you know I would never do you like that." She said, pulling you closer as she laid her head on your shoulder.

After your conversation with her that night, you expected her not to stay over like she normally does but she did.

You're both laying down in bed you couldn't fall asleep yet.

"Baby, I just wanted you to know I'm really sorry, and I feel so stupid thinking about it." You said, thinking she fell asleep.

"It okay, just go back to bed mhm". You heard her say as she pulled you closer by your waist.

"Goodnight, I love you." You said to her as you slowly able to fall asleep and be at peace without your mind playing tricks on you.

"I love you too." She said her arms stil wrapped around your body.

[zepskies]

Omg first of all, thanks so much for shouting out As Tradition Dictates, my lovely!! I have more Eomer coming in the near future. 😘

But first *rubs hands together* time to dig into this delectable love triangle...

Dear LORD you didn't have to do me like this from the onset with that opening scene of Butcher. 🥵

No man his age should look that good. 

Correct. 👆🏽 Why is it that rugged men in their 40s attract me more than men my own age. 🫠🫠

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

lmfao Eomer, is that you? ("romantasy" ftw! 😏❤️‍🔥)

The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

lol this is one of my favorite aspects of reading/writing in The Boys fandom - everyone's creativity on creating our own fictional supes that cause mayhem for the boys. 😆😆 (Not "a reenactment of the eighth plague" 💀💀💀)

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing.

Can always trust you to give beautiful descriptions of flora and fauna. 🪴💚

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

Sigh. I can deeply relate to that first part, as you know lol.

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

Girl stop torturing me lmfao. (But actually don't stop though) "Big hands" indeed. 🥵

Ben saw straight through her though and I'm living for their dynamic! lol

“He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

Oh how magnanimous of him. 🙄 Like yes, let's all jump (literally) on that opportunity to debase ourselves for his entertainment.

...But of course, there's also that whole ridiculously attractive factor that makes Ben difficult to resist, even though he's a complete asshole loll.

You’d tried the usual things… Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation. Gone completely mute when he asked you a question. Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room. Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

OMFg. That last one is so real! 🤣🤣🤣 I feel for her for real. I wonder how Ben's actually going to help her self-confidence. 💗

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-” Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Awww this melted me so much! She's not in love with him yet, but I think he's gonna bring it out of her on accident with stuff like this loll. Also big surprise on how he said she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to do. 💚💚 I half-expected him to suggest exactly what she could do for him if she was so inclined. 😆

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.”  What have I gotten myself into?

Oh my God, YESSS. She's in so deep already and I can only imagine where you'll take this next if you choose! I can say for sure that I'd love to see how this little scheme unfolds lol.

Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader and a little bit of Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested by: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:  When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care.

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips. 

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood. 

No man his age should look that good. 

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands. 

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you. 

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly. 

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap. 

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher. 

You were always distracted by him. 

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face. 

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out. 

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one. 

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing. 

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin. 

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you. 

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy. 

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up. 

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle. 

But you liked your job… sometimes. 

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander. 

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut. 

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced. 

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies. 

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe. 

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you. 

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him. 

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up. 

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again. 

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm. 

“What?” You ask him. 

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red. 

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking. 

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben. 

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. 

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath. 

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble. 

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful. 

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done. 

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard. 

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin. 

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.” 

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced. 

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone. 

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose. 

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly. 

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly. 

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously. 

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment. 

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!” 

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly. 

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this. 

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was. 

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair. 

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not. 

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before. 

Your mouth drops open in surprise. 

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to. 

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you. 

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away. 

“Fine.” Ben states. 

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-” 

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this. 

Keep it together… 

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin. 

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight. 

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you. 

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.” 

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

[starlightbuckk]

recents reads for me <3

Love You 'Til The End | perpetual_wallflower on ao3

summary: Buck offers up a date with a firefighter, himself, for a silent charity auction and ends up exchanging letters with a secret admirer and a first date set for Valentine’s Day several weeks away that will change his life.my thoughts: this was soooooo sweet, def one of my fav valentine fics i read this year. i particularly also was drawn to this characterization of eddie.

the rollercoaster | dqstcrdly on ao3 and twitter

summary: Buck has a manic episode. He slowly descends into the throes of mania, and the people who love him notice that something is wrong. All of them, particularly Eddie, are there to help him pick up the pieces in the aftermath. my thoughts: a fic you think about forever. buck's descent into the manic episode is deeply emotional and by the end i was crying.

I’ll tell them put me back in it (and I would do it again) | paleredheadinascifi on ao3/ palwritesfics on twitter

summary: Eddie doesn't know how to make his listening history private. Buck doesn't know what to do with the words in front of his eyes. Chris cannot believe he has to deal with either of them. my thoughts: i read lots of fun, lighthearted fics this past month and this one was no exception. silly boys who are in love with each other, one of whom does not understand how spotify works. chris was especially funny in this one.

the parts we play | @calinaannehart on ao3 and tumblr

summary: Buck isn’t a firefighter, he just plays one on TV, or at least that’s what he’s about to do. He’s offered the chance to shadow the 118 to learn what it’s like to be a firefighter. Eddie is fed up with these Hollywood types turning up and feigning interest in the job that he loves. Buck, however, is nothing like that and everyone can see the connection they have. my thoughts: okkkkk this is totally not what i would usually read (famous aus), but i loved it. it was interested to read a fic where eddie is the one confident in his sexuality and not buck, i enjoyed the dynamic and would love to see more of it done.

just like magic | weewooforever on ao3/ maydaydiiaz on twitter

part one of the witch eddie cinematic universe

summary: eddie diaz is a witch and his magic leads him right to evan buckley. my thoughts: have been LOVING!! this witch au, this is part 1 of i think 5?? and the series is ongoing. very lighthearted and sweet.

the mortifying ordeal of being known | Polish_Amber on ao3/ @the-amber-raven on tumblr

summary: the AU where miscommunication abounds as Eddie seeks advice about his new relationship, Bobby despairs over his adopted son's career prospects and his refusal to talk about it, and Evan Buckley-Nash juggles training at the fire academy, building a family with his new boyfriend, and trying to work out how to tell his overprotective dad that he's already chosen the life he wants, actually. my thoughts: this was fantastic. i need to make my way through the rest of the series. i honestly eat up any bobby and buck father-son relationship and this one was done in an honest, yet unique way.

plant new seeds in the melody | @bibuckleyforever on ao3 and tumblr

summary: Eddie's all but given up on dating when he meets Buck at the scene of a call. Chimney and Hen think of it as a sign from the universe. Buck and Eddie think of it as a chance to finally get the love story they've always wanted. my thoughts: sweet, different first meeting alternate universe. love when one of them isn't a firefighter because i love seeing what jobs authors have them do instead. this will be reread.

fill me full (of love and desire) | tiredwrites on ao3

summary: when buck comes in stormy-eyed and brimming with anger, they all confront him to get the full story and find out he's fresh off a breakup, has blue-balls, and is reeling from the reveal his ex has a micropenis, so what does eddie do to make it better? he loves (and fucks) buck better than tommy ever could. and finally makes buck realize he's been eddie's this entire time. my thoughts: this was Everything. i went from giggling to in awe of how well-written this smut was. i am so sorry tommy (not really), but i am not sorry for how well buck got fucked.

Look How They Align | allyasavedtheday on ao3/ @littlespoonevan on tumblr

summary: In which Buck has a crush on the hot dad of the new kid in his daughter's class. The hot dad who also happens to be his new co-worker. Yeah, this is fine. my thoughts: there is a scene in chapter two of this fic that made me cry. i love single dad+different first meeting aus. the relationship that grows between the 4 of them is simply so special and i loved reading it.

hope I make it through the night | arcanaphora on ao3

summary: Eddie and Buck go on an awkward first date. my thoughts: hehehehehe this is kinda canon for me. idc if its not realistic. i am a firm believer that buddie's first date will be awkward as hell bc neither of them know how to date someone they have actual feelings for (let alone their best friend).

as always, give a reblog, a follow, or share your fic thoughts.

later this week i will be posting my first rec for a specific prompt/trope. i'm excited for this one, it's one of my favs.

if you have any requests for a specific prompt/trope recs, leave it in my ask and i'll add it to my list <3

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Chapter 6

Fic Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who’s not named Eddie Munson.

Chapter Summary: You start off your criminal career and you and Eddie talk about alignments

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, one-sided enemies to lovers, one-sided pining, miscommunication trope, anxious-ish!Reader, fem!Reader, Reader is not described, no use of y/n

Word Count: 3.9k words

Master List

This was not a good idea. Well, Stacy thought it was a good idea. You were unsure, even though it was your stupid idea. 

“It’s a store. You’ve been in a store before.” Stacy sighed as you stared at the small game shop that the two of you were parked in front of. 

“Yeah, but not this store.” you pointed out. “This is so stupid. Let’s just go do something else.” 

“Oh no, you begged me to bring you here and so you’re going to do this. It’s a store. They sell things. You want to buy things.” She opened up her door and stepped out of the car and marched to the front of the building and waited there for you. 

You had begged her, and that was the most embarrassing thing. In your euphoria of having Eddie talk to you about Dungeons and Dragons you had asked Stacy to take you to the game store in town to pick up your own copy of the game manual to learn. It seemed so simple in the heat of the moment; get the manual, learn the rules, impress Eddie by playing his game and then he falls in love with you. 

And Stacy, being the good friend that she is, agreed to the plan after laughing her ass off. 

You got out of the car, seeing no other choice but to commit to this plan. She held the door open for you as you both entered the store. It was small, and there was a slight musky scent to the room. There were a few guys hanging around the back, huddled over some sort of card game and you were met with some odd looks. That didn’t really surprise you though, you didn’t think that many girls came in here, especially not ones that looked like Stacy with her perfect perm and lipgloss smile. 

The shopkeep looked unimpressed as you made your way to the counter. 

“Makeup shop is down the street.” he said, looking back down at the comic he was reading on the counter. He had messy dishwater blond hair, and his crooked name tag read CHRIS.

Any nerves you had suddenly vanished, as now you were just pissed. What the fuck was that comment about?

“Actually, I’m here to pick up a copy of the Dungeons and Dragons manual.” you said, stepping up to the counter. The cashier didn’t move his head, but his eyes flicked up at you. 

“Original or advanced?” he asked. 

“Advanced.” You said confidently, not knowing the difference or that there was more than one version but advanced had to be more impressive, right? 

The cashier rolled his eyes and pointed vaguely in the direction of a rack on the far wall, and you saw that Stacy was already looking at the different items. You made your way over and scanned the shelves until you found the manual for Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. There was a lot more in the section than you had thought. There were several books filled with what looked like stories about the game, but you didn’t have much to go off of what you remembered Eddie talking about. You held the manual as you scanned the other books, your eyes landing on something called The Tomb of Horrors. You picked it up and flipped through it for a moment, figuring out that it was some sort of companion to the game. Were all players supposed to have these? 

“The art’s cool at least.” Stacy said, looking over your shoulder. “Lot of numbers though.”

“You literally tutor me in math, I don’t wanna hear it.” You countered.

“You won’t find any princess fairytale in that.” A voice said, and you turned to see the cashier, as well as the rest of the store staring at the two of you. 

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“I’m just saying it’s a fantasy game but it’s serious business,” he said. “I’m sure if you go to another store there are games that are more your speed.” 

“Excuse me?” you repeated yourself, your cheeks now burning. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, it’s cute that you come in here all dolled up but this is a serious store so if you’re just here to look at pictures you’re gonna have to leave.” 

You really didn’t like the way he was looking at Stacy, and it made your blood boil. “Dude, what the hell is your problem? I’m here to buy something, do you want my money or not?!”

One arm or not, you were fighting the urge to deck this guy in the face. 

“Okay, I see we aren’t wanted here.” Stacy said quickly, pushing you towards the door. You stared at her, as she flipped her hair and gave the cashier a look that baffled you. “I’m, like, so sorry to bother you all. I was just so curious about the game my cousin was so obsessed with.”

The cashier faltered for a second, and if you weren’t so pissed you’d find it funny how quickly his brain seemed to have turned to mush. 

“Well uh- if you really wanted to know about the game I’d be more than happy to teach you. Maybe set up a little one on one-”

Oh, gross. You quickly turned heel and walked out of the shop to Stacy’s car feeling all sorts of bogus feelings. 

Stacy was right behind you thirty seconds later. “Car. Now.” she said, and you wasted no time getting in as she sped off before you could even put on your seatbelt. 

“You owe me.” she said firmly. “What a creep! Ugh, you’re lucky you’re my best friend.” 

“This was such a stupid idea.” you said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that the store would be... that.” 

“Whatever, buy me a milkshake and we’ll call it even. You better have that book memorized next time you see Eddie.”

What book-

“Oh fuck, I didn’t pay for these!” you stared at the two books in your hand. 

“Duh, as if I’d let you spend money in there.” Stacy said. 

“Stacy!” you gasped. 

“Yes?” 

“The only reason my parents let me hang out with you is because they think you’re a good influence.” 

“Their problem. Anyway, I actually really like the makeup store in that plaza and now I’ll have to avoid it for at least a few weeks so make it three milkshakes.” 

Your little grand theft nerd book probably saved you about fifteen bucks, so yeah, you owed Stacy big time for this. 

“And fries.” you agreed. 

“That goes without saying.”

The weekend passed by with no further petty crime, unless you counted the backstory that you created for a thief character. You still weren’t very certain that you did all the math correctly, but you tried. 

The manual was the most helpful, and you recognized terms that Eddie had used that had flown right over your head when he had talked so passionately about the game. The Tomb of Horrors was more interesting but you had a feeling that you weren’t supposed to be reading this. It was a module, something that only the Dungeon Master would use to guide the players through the game. Reading it felt like cheating, even if you weren’t in Hellfire. 

It didn’t stop you from reading it all in one sitting, though. 

Monday rolled around, and you had spent so much time learning a game that you had forgotten to study for your English test.  

No. You didn’t forget. It was painfully in the back of your mind the whole time you were messing with paper and dice. But the louder that knowledge was, the more you focused on reading the books instead. 

You did the best that you could on Ms. Benson’s test and, not wanting to be the first one to turn it in, you spent the rest of the time staring at the back of Eddie’s head like some lovelorn teenager. Which you were. 

Eddie spent more time on his test than you, and you watched as he would write something, then erase, and write again. Occasionally he’d tap his pencil and stare up at the clock. You wondered if DIO was any good. Maybe if you were any kind of artist you’d been sketching the lines of his shoulders and the way he’d run his fingers through his wavy hair. You thought that his jacket and the denim vest made his form look older, more filled out maybe. It could also be that Eddie was a year older than you, and thus 2 years older than most of the seniors. 

After half the class turned in their tests, you walked up to turn yours in as well. You considered ‘accidentally’ brushing against his arm as you passed him but that felt too desperate. 

God, you had it bad. This felt pathetic. You didn’t give a shit about how anyone else here felt about you, but your IQ dropped into the single digits at any sight of Eddie.

You spent the rest of class re-reading the handbook under your desk, and stealing glances at Eddie who finally turned his test in about ten minutes before the bell rang. 

At least he tried. The thought was just as much praise for him as a jab at yourself. 

The bell rang and you got up and shoved the book in the new backpack that you had gotten permission to use to carry your books while you were still in a cast. Your wrist was twinging today, but you could ignore it for the most part. 

Eddie didn’t even look at you as he left the classroom. Why would he? A small conversation last week didn’t exactly make you friends but you wanted to try. 

In the time between arriving at school, and taking Benson’s test, Eddie had managed to study for a solid twenty minutes, which was about twenty minutes more than he had with most tests. It was better than nothing, and at least he could tell Wayne that he had tried. 

He doodled on the margins of the paper, hoping that Benson would be amused enough to maybe pass him a few bonus points. It had worked only once last year in science, but that didn’t stop him from doodling on every test since. 

The rest of the day passed by without much to report, it was only when Eddie was sitting in his van, getting ready to get the hell off Hawkin’s High property that he remembered that he had to report back to his parole officer (Benson) with his fellow inmate (you) to break some rocks (call random businesses in town). 

You were already in the classroom, staring at the binder with the notes you all had taken last week. 

“I’m grading tests today. Use the lounge again to make calls.” Ms. Benson said, grabbing a stack of papers from her desk. 

And those were all the marching orders the two of you received before making your way back to the teachers lounge. Eddie didn’t get why you two were still doing this. Last week the two of you had called pretty much everyone in the rolodex and had handed in all of the quotes given. 

“Is there anyone who we didn’t call last week?” Eddie asked, grabbing two chairs and dragging them over to the phone. You were already holding the binder and rolodex one handed. He could at least pretend to be a gentleman for now. 

“Some didn’t bother answering so maybe we call them again?” you suggested, plopping yourself down in the chair. 

Of the seven numbers left, you got 4 to answer and only one of them left any sort of helpful information. 

“Did Ms. Benson ever say how long we were supposed to be helping with this?” You asked, messing with the phone chord. The two of you were done, but neither of you had made a move to go back to the classroom. 

“Few weeks. Sounded like she was going to have us single handedly take care of Spring Day.” Eddie sighed. 

You stared at him blankly. Then to your cast. Then back to him. And then back to your cast. 

“That’s not what I meant!” Eddie said. “Not my fault you took a nosedive off the bleachers.”

“I did not!” you protested. “I threw myself down valiantly to distract our peers from the fact that Miles shit himself.”

“You should have let him fend for himself.” Eddie said, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

You paused and looked at him for a moment with that same intense expression. Maybe you really were trying to study him like a bog. 

“I... was going to talk to you that day.” You said, and Eddie didn’t miss a slight waver in your voice as if you were nervous. “It had nothing to do with Miles.” 

Eddie couldn’t mask the shock on his face. “Me?��� Why the hell were you trying to talk to him that day?

“Yeah I-” your nerves were throwing him off. He had always expected you to pick a fight with him every time the two of you made eye contact. “I made that stupid joke and you heard and I wanted to come over and apologize. Then, Miles elbowed me and I tripped and.... Yeah.” 

“Really?” Eddie was usually a master of words and bullshit, but this was rendering him speechless.

“Yeah. It was a really stupid joke and you looked pissed and flipped me off and I felt bad.” You, the person who always gave him dirty looks, felt bad? And you had been trying to come to him to-

“Shit. So it’s my fault you broke your arm.” He realized. If it had been anyone else, then he probably just would have rolled his eyes that day and ignored you but he’d made a show of making sure you knew he heard you. 

“Wrist. And... what the fuck are you talking about?” There was the pissed look he was used to!

“If I hadn’t flipped you off, you wouldn’t have hurt yourself.” 

“If I hadn’t made a stupid comment I wouldn’t have needed to apologize!” 

Seeing you so worked up about this amused Eddie greatly. He felt bad that you had broken a bone on his behalf but knowing that you had done that plus saved his ass from expulsion gave you some points in his book. 

“You’re probably the one one in this hell hole to ever apologize.” He said honestly. “I doubt anyone else would have apologized and then cleared my name.”

You just stared at him for a long time, an expression on your face he found frustratingly unreadable. Your furrowed brows said that you were pissed, but your eyes... well Eddie always knew when someone was looking at him with contempt. This wasn’t it. Confusion maybe? Frustration? Maybe you were pissed that you felt bad and broke your wrist? He wasn’t going to push it, especially when you were still looking at him. 

“So... should we go see Benson since we’re done with this?” he asked after you had stared at him like this for about ten seconds longer than he was comfortable with.  

It’s not like there was anything else the two of you could do so you just nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie grabbed the binder and rolodex and kicked his chair back to its rightful place. When the two of you left the lounge, you made a move to turn left, but he turned right, in the opposite direction. 

“Where are you going?” you asked. 

“Takin’ the scenic route.” Eddie didn’t even bother turning around as he kept walking. 

You stood there like an idiot for a moment before jogging to catch up to him. “There’s a scenic route?”

“Yup.” Eddie said. You’d either join him and he could try and figure you out, or you’d ditch and go running to Benson. By the look on your face when she mentioned grading tests, he didn’t think you’d be in a rush back to the Warden. 

Eddie led you to the end of the hallway and opened up a door that led you both outside. It was chilly out, and you wished you had grabbed your jacket from your bag but it was such a pain to put on with the cast. 

You were now playing hooky with Eddie Munson. Well, shirking your semi-detention duties which was close enough. 

Okay. You were alone with the guy you’d been pining for, and he was hanging out with you in a seemingly willing way. Just talk to him. Ask him a question. 

“Would you rather fight a horse sized duck or a duck sized horse?” you asked. If it was a good enough ice breaker for Stacy, it’s good enough for Eddie. Hopefully. 

“Duck sized horse.” Eddie said instantly, looking at you. “Every time.” 

If he thought the question was stupid, he hid it well. 

“Explain yourself.” you said. 

“A horse sized duck would be too powerful.” Eddie explained, leading you past the football field and into the woods. “Ducks are made of evil and hatred, and I’d rather punt a small horse than deal with that.” 

Okay, so that was an answer you were not expecting. “Ducks are evil...?” you asked. 

“Oh, very evil.” Eddie said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“....Chaotic, lawful, or neutral?” 

Eddie stopped walking to stare at you with wide eyes, and you felt your face heat up painfully even in the cool air. 

“Neutral.” Eddie finally said. “I’m sure there’s some duck code that I haven’t cracked, but as far as I’m concerned they’re all the same base evil across the board.” 

“I think geese would be chaotic evil.” you offered as the two of you started walking again into the woods. “I had one that would randomly attack me in my old neighborhood every time I walked down the street.”

“Most waterfowl are some flavor of evil.”

“Maybe swans are lawful?” 

The two of you sat on an old abandoned picnic table, and Eddie lit up a cigarette. 

“So, you were paying attention to my little lecture last week.” he blew the smoke away from you as he exhaled. “I figured that you would have forgotten anything I said by now.”

How could you? You’ve been replaying that moment in your mind over and over all weekend. Not that you could tell him that. 

“It was interesting.” That was putting it mildly. “It sounds like a lot of fun, honestly.”

Take the hint take the hint take the hint take the hint-

“I love it. We’re close to wrapping up this campaign, too. If they don’t royally fuck over my plans then everything should be wrapped up in a nice little bow by the end of the school year. It’s getting serious, and none of them are allowed to skip out on Hellfire unless they are actively dying.” 

The hint flew right past him, running off into the woods while carrying your hopes and dreams. Of course, trying to join this late in the year with only a few weeks left of school would be impossible. It would be like trying to join the basketball team right before the championship game. 

“You really take it seriously.” you looked over at him, taking in his profile as he took another drag of his cigarette. 

“As serious as the plague.” He exhaled. “It’s the only thing that keeps me coming back to school most days. Well, that and I promised my uncle I’d graduate.” 

“Your uncle...?”

“Yeah, I live with him.” 

You wanted to ask more, but this was the first time the two of you had really had a conversation. Would it be weird to ask more?

“Where do you guys live?” Nope, that was too weird and personal to ask but you did anyway. 

“Forest Hills.”

He didn’t say it was the trailer park, but he didn’t need to. The answers were short, and you could take the hint he didn’t want to talk about his personal life. You’d take any scrap he’d throw at you.

“Have you always been the Dungeon Master?”

And off he went again, his eyes lighting up as he regaled you with the rise of Hellfire. How his best friend Ronnie had dragged him to this weird club at someone’s house and he had been hooked ever since. When the original DM left, Eddie took over. His first campaign had been clunky, but the more he dove into this world he created the better it got. 

The more Eddie talked about the game, the worse your attraction to him got, and the more you mourned any opportunity to be part of his world. Your feelings for him aside, it really did sound like a lot of fun. 

The bell rang far too soon and you and Eddie booked it back to Ms. Benson’s class. You handed over the notes and information you gathered and she dismissed you both with a waive of her hand. 

“I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.” you said as the two of you made your way to the front of the school. 

“Tomorrow.” he corrected. “Unless you plan on Benson’s class tomorrow.”

“It’s tempting.” You wonder how quickly that failed test would get back to you. 

The two of you passed a group of cheerleaders who were giving Eddie dirty looks before they really noticed you next to him. Two of them- Chrissy and Emma- smiled and waved at you. You gave a smile and waved back, hoping that they took it as a sign that Eddie was more than welcome to be walking next to you. 

“You’re friends with everyone, huh?” Eddie asked when they were out of earshot. 

“Not really?” His question was confusing. Other than Stacy, he was the only other person who you had any consistent alone time with, and that was because he was being forced to. “I talk with some of them sometimes but we’ve never hung out. I think I just don’t offend them.”

“I didn’t think you were the cheer type.” Eddie waved his hands as if waving imaginary pompoms and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Nah, I’ve never been in with any cheer squad, unless you count the Field Day in elementary school. I twisted my ankle and was given some fake pompoms to wave while all the other kids played.” 

“Oh, so hurting yourself during sport themed activities is a hobby of yours?” Eddie asked. “There are easier and less painful ways to skip gym.”

“Oh, now you tell me!” you feigned shock. “I wish you had told me earlier.”

“Happy to be of service.” he bowed dramatically. 

Outside, you spotted Stacy standing by her car and chatting with a boy. Fresh meat. You thought to yourself. 

“It’s probably because you’re friends with her.” Eddie said, looking over at Stacy. 

“Huh?”

“I mean, she was on the team before. If one of those girls likes you, then the rest will at least tolerate you.” 

“...Stacy was a cheerleader?” you snapped your head at him. That would explain so much, but why didn’t you know this? 

“You didn’t know?” 

“I guess not.” 

“HEY! YOU NEED A RIDE OR WHAT?!” Stacy yelled from across the parking lot. The guy she was chatting with was gone and she was waving her arms. You mentally added pompoms to her hands and suppressed a laugh. 

“I guess that’s my cue.” you said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“If I don’t skip.” he winked at you and headed towards his van, so casually, as if he didn’t just make your little heart explode and your knees weak. 

For the first time ever, you were actually looking forward to school the next day.

Author Notes: Sometimes I worry that Reader and Stacy have more chemistry. Oh well. Also I had to re-write half of this fic because my dumb ass went from Eddie POV to Reader's.

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[zepskies]

Loll sorrrrryyyy, but you know me -- I love a good cliffhanger. 😘

You were throwing hints at us here, but I still have questions that hopefully will be answered. Now I'm wondering how Michael was before the war. It's traumatizing and on the brink of death you grab at every straw. I do believe that he really loves her, but maybe it morphed into something else. Him being dependent on her? Or he realized that the man he actually is does not fit to her... I NEED ANSWERS!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Oh yeah, you'll get more nuggets about Michael and who he truly is in Part 5, and many of your instincts are right on the money of how I see him. 😅 But in some ways I'm letting you readers interpret for yourselves how you see Michael and his actions, judging, for example, if you think he deserves sympathy or not.

He did NOT!!! 😲😲😲 Oh Dean... that was not nice. You're already drawn to eachother. Inextricably linked. Don't sabotage yourself from something real. ☝🏻

He's doing a whole lot of denial isn't he? 😭 Basically it's Dean's trademark "I'm no good for you" coming in to rear its ugly head.

See? It hit right home. She already thinks she's not worth it anymore and you just confirmed that. 😔 This is pure miscommunication. But I'm glad that nothing happened to Sam and that he got the evidence they needed. She'll be free in a couple of months. 👍🏻

Big YEPP. But at least Dean reels it back, apologizes, and tries to comfort her. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

Sam's doing some top-notch lawyering! It's gonna take some time, but he's committed to helping her be free of Michael.

Eventhough you got me a little worried about your 'next time' teaser... 😑 I can't wait to read the next chapter! 💜💜

lolll Can't wait to bring you guys Part 5 next week!! 💖 All will be revealed...

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Now we get into the aftermath of the night before, with all the insecurity and heartbreak to go along with it. 💙

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “Danke Shoen” by Wayne Newton

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angsty angst, trauma/PTSD, and a cliffhanger…

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Part 4: Complicit

Sam would give Michael one thing. The guy damn well knew how to drink.

He didn’t stop all night, throwing back whiskey like it was cheap beer. His words began to slur, his movements sloppy, but he was still coherent. When he got up to visit the men’s restroom, Sam got up as well. Maybe he could get Michael talking.

Sam stopped the other man from tripping into the urinal. The two laughed it off, with Michael thanking him before he unzipped to finish his business. Sam did the same.

After washing their hands, Sam looked over and noticed Michael’s gaze lingering on his own reflection in the mirror. It was becoming a rough sight—his blonde hair no longer neatly coiffed, purplish rings under his eyes, the stench of alcohol clinging to his skin and clothing.

“You all right there, Milligan?” Sam asked.

Michael ran a hand over his face, sighing when it didn’t get any better.

“Fine,” he replied. “So, Winchester. What did you say you do for work again? Something about your own business?”

Sam nodded. “I started up a law firm.”

That much, he had to be honest about. It was all too easy for someone to look up his name in the directory.

“Sounds like a good outfit,” Michael said, with an incline of his head. “Every lawyer I know wears a Rolex.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at his father’s watch. “Well, I’m not quite there yet.”

“Someday soon, I’m sure,” said Michael. He bumped Sam conspiringly on the shoulder.

“And you?” Sam asked. “What’s keeping the lights on at your place?”

Michael raised a hand to sort through his unruly hair, a dirtier blonde in this unflattering light.

“Well, you could say I’ve inherited a business of my own,” he said. “I run a meat packing plant down in the district.”

Sam’s attention piqued. There had been a meat rationing during the war, even some rumors and propaganda about “meatleggers,” black market operators.

“How’s it been with the rations?” Sam asked. “Been hard to even find a good carton of eggs lately.”

Michael gave him a slight smile. “Been on the turnaround, actually. I’ve been able to make some connections with vendors outside the city. A little grease on the palms makes a little go a long way, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly smiled and nodded. A little grease on the palms, huh?

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Michael snorted. “Now you’re talkin’. That’s all we can do, you know. Try to make a thing work, with whatever scraps we get. Try to stay afloat.”

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Michael made a low sound of approval. He became more contemplative, crossing his arms as he once again glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sam’s gaze on the other man was perceptive, gaining ever closer to what seemed to be eating at the very core of him. Whether Sam actually believed what he was saying or not, each of his words was a test, a subtle nudge.

“You know,” Michael said. “I was shot down in France.”

Sam sobered further. Leaning against the counter, he retrieved two cigarettes and a lighter. He didn’t often smoke, but he thought it might keep the other man talking. He handed one over to Michael, and he took it gratefully. They lit up together and coiled musky tobacco smoke into the air.

“Where?” Sam asked.

Michael snorted, huffing a bit of smoke. “Lord knows. But when I woke up, I had stitches from here to here.”

He gestured to the back of his head, all the way to above his brow. It explained a small, but noticeable scar near his temple.

“And I had an angel standing over me,” he added, his eyes growing heavy. Guilty. “A bona fide angel. She’d stitched me up, she told me. She also told me I was lucky to be alive. The doc wanted to toe tag me and be done with it, but she thought I still had some fight left in me.”

Michael shook his head. “The next chance I got, I married her.”

Sam’s brows rose. He knew you had been a nurse, but he hadn’t known this part of your story.

“A wartime romance, huh?” he said. Michael quirked a smile.

“She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

He hesitated, his eyes somewhat glazing over. He stared over Sam’s shoulder at something only he could see.

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said. “Sometimes, you need to forget your own damn name. Forget that your entire life and mortgage is in a warehouse that might as well be a freezer full a’ dead cow meat. And still, it smells a hell of a lot better than lying on a dirty cot—where the last guy who had your spot probably got his leg sawed off.” 

Michael considers the cigarette in his hand for a long while before he takes another puff.

Sam exhales smoke as well. He spent the last three years behind a desk, but he sees the same shaken core in Michael Milligan that he too often sees in his older brother.

“You know, Winchester, there’s two kinds of men,” Michael said, just a hint of a slur in his voice. “The ones who pray to live…and the ones who beg for it to be over.”

“And what kind of man are you now?” Sam asked. His tone was loose, but his gaze was sharp.

Michael snorted. He dabbed the butt of his cigarette on the inside of the sink before he threw it away.

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

He rolled his shoulders, as if to let the weight of his words and everything that came along with them to roll off his back. Then he pushed his way out of the bathroom, leaving Sam considering more than just half a cigarette.

That night after Dean left, you slept in the guest room instead of your bed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep next to Michael when he stumbled in at four in the morning, especially now that you had seen his game with your own eyes. 

However, you also felt complicit yourself the next morning. You felt…ashamed. You took your vows seriously. You had never in your life thought you would be someone so brazen. You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

And yet. All while you got ready for work, hearing Michael’s snores from the other room, your mind was filled with warmth and memory—of Dean. His smile, his voice, his eyes, his lips, and of course, his hands. You couldn’t decide which of them was your favorite, but his hands were high on the list. 

You shouldn’t have let him in, you reminded yourself. You nibbled on your lower lip while you prepped the coffee maker. You should have told him goodnight at the door and saw him off. You should very well not have invited him up to the apartment, let alone drank with him, or let him touch you…

You paused while the sound of percolation and the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. You looked up at yourself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The woman looking back at you was conflicted at best.

Yes, you felt guilty. But at the same time, you didn’t. Was it really betraying your marriage if your husband had been doing far worse, and for God knew how long?

No. This wasn’t a marriage. This was a sham. A mockery of the very thing.

You frowned angrily and almost slammed the carafe on the counter when the coffee was done. Forcing yourself to take a few steadying breaths, you allowed that hate and anger to slowly drain out of you, and you smiled.

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

What the hell am I doing?

Dean stared at the two bouquets of flowers. One was a bound bunch of red roses, the other was wildflowers and other colorful ones he didn’t know the names of. He was having a hard time deciding, namely because he didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked.

Because after all, he barely knew you.

He sighed down at the roses. They were pretty, but expensive. He could imagine your surprise, followed by your smile—the one that actually lit up your eyes and changed your whole face, made you sweeter, almost shy.

I’m buying flowers for a married woman.

The thought managed to make him pause, with a rough exhale of breath. The truth was, he’d crossed the line with you. More than once.

The hard part about it was, he didn’t really care. He did wonder if you cared.

He wondered if you’d be embarrassed to see him again. He wondered if you wanted to keep last night a memory, and nothing more. He wondered if he was better off booking his train home now, and leaving some kind of note for you with Sam. Dean didn’t think he wanted to see that look of mortification on your face, the whiskey finally cleared from your mind to see what he really was: a man with no job, no commitments, and very little prospects on the horizon.

“Ah, ‘scuse me,” a young man said from Dean’s left side.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him.

“Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

When the florist asked about you as well, the mention of your name rang between Dean’s ears. A feeling like inky claws raked through his chest; he raised his head from the roses and finally recognized Michael Milligan. He was the same man Dean had spotted in your wedding pictures hanging on the wall last night, right in the foyer.

“She’s all right,” Michael chuckled. “Truth be told, I’ve been working late this week. Hoping to surprise her tonight, take her out to dinner. Somewhere nice, you know.” 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you take her to that nice steakhouse off of Broadway…” the florist twittered on as he continued to ring up Michael’s order.

Anger and disgust prickled under Dean’s skin, his fists clenched at his sides. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and lay your husband out flat. If he thought one little bouquet and a Salisbury steak was going to wash him clean, then he was an idiot as well as a selfish bastard.

But Dean knew, deep down, that Michael would be just as justified to throw a swing right back at him.

So Dean left the flowers, the flower shop, and the entire busy street and all its blaring sounds behind.

During your lunch break, you quickly made the trek over to Sam’s office. He’d called you this morning with a story that only confirmed everything you’d inherently felt, and yet, some of it still managed to shock you. 

You didn’t even have the patience to wait until after work, but when you got there, he reassured you. It had taken him a few rounds of poker and discreetly following Michael and Dolores after they exited through the back of the club…but Sam had gotten the evidence not long after. They weren’t exactly discreet in the alley. Or in the nearby motel.

You had the envelope in hand filled with the pictures he’d developed from his camera.  

“You don’t have to look,” he advised. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No, I want to see it,” you said. You took the pictures out, and your expression didn’t change as you look through them all. Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He was sincere, with those hazel eyes of his.

You nodded and gave him back the envelope. “What’s next?”

“I went ahead and filed the petition. I’ll take this right to the clerk’s office myself.”

“How long will it take to be over?”

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured.

A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

“Oh, I meant to ask…how’s your brother?” you said.

Sam began to smile, but he tempered it. “He just called before you came in. He let me know he was stepping out for a walk.”

“Oh, really? Did he happen to say where?”

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Well, look who’s here?” he teased. “How’d you find me?”

“I stopped by Sam’s office,” you said, holding onto the lapels of his coat. A cold November wind pushed at you both, ruffling your clothes. “The paperwork is on its way. Soon enough, I won’t be a married woman anymore.”

He tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear and smiled, but it didn’t altogether reach his eyes.

“How soon is soon?” he asked.

“A few months, according to your brother.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

That made you pause, tilting your head in confusion. Though you supposed it made sense. He was only here visiting his brother. He was planning on going home eventually.

But surely, that was before we… You lowered your gaze.

“Back to Lawrence?” you asked. Again, he nodded.

“I need to take care of some things, figure out my next move,” he said.

You pulled away from him to brace yourself, and not just against the cold. “Well, when will you be back?” 

He stayed quiet, worrying you even more. There was a deep pit forming in your stomach, churning with unease.  

“Dean?” you prodded.

He stepped back in to grasp your arms gently.

“Sweetheart…the truth is, I don’t have much to offer you,” he said. “I don’t have a business to inherit from my folks. I don’t even have a job. I’m a man who was about as useful as a jackhammer, until the war ended.”

You frowned, resting a hand against his chest. “Dean Winchester, that’s not all there is to you.”

“Really. When did you figure that one out, in the whole week you’ve known me?” he asked. It was harsher than he meant to be, but he couldn’t help the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “Didn’t that get you in trouble the first time? I’d a thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now.”

You snatched your hand back, hurt filling your eyes. You turned to walk away before he saw your tears. You should have known. You should have known a man like him would never be serious. Not about you. 

As soon as he let the words go, Dean realized what he was doing. Yeah, he was frustrated, but it wasn’t aimed at you. It couldn’t be aimed at you.

God knew he didn’t want to hurt you, or for you to hate him. He really couldn’t stomach either thought, so he relented and reached out to grab at your hand, before you could get too far. 

“Wait,” he said, managing to pull you back to him. “I’m sorry.”

You tugged your hand to try and free yourself from his grasp. 

“You know what, maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice wobbling with anger, dismay, and tears. “Maybe I ought to stop letting a man get even an inch into my heart. At this point, it’s my own fault.”

“Stop,” Dean demanded. “No, it’s not.” 

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just an idiot,” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears as they fell. “But you…you deserve to be happy. With a man that can take care of you, protect you. A man who has a little more of his life figured out.”

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.”

Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

You stepped back and straightened your clothes. You took in a deep breath that did nothing to calm you, and you uttered a humorless laugh.

“I suppose it makes sense. Why would you want anything to do with me?” You gestured down at yourself with a dismissive hand. “A-a walking mess. Even when I am divorced, that’s how people will see me. Damaged goods. I don’t even know how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

You covered your face against Dean and the rest of the world, and after weeks and months, you finally allowed yourself the one thing you hadn’t since your first inkling that your husband was being unfaithful. You finally allowed yourself to break.

The first sob shuddered through your body, followed by hot tears. You squeezed your eyes against them and wiped at your face in vain.

Dean broke too, in his own way. He gathered you into his arms, where he shushed you gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I wasn’t giving you an excuse,” he said.

Despite how much you wanted to push him away, the deep, steady timbre of his voice pierced you and soothed you at the same time.

“I meant every word I said. I may not be the right guy for you, but don’t you dare take a scrap of what anyone else might say, you hear me?” he said firmly. “You’re beautiful. You don’t suffer fools like me, and you’re better than that sad sack excuse of a man deserves.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes.

“You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but you’re not a fool.”

He shook his head, not wanting to argue with you anymore. He just kissed you, deeply, thoroughly, the way you always imagined a kiss should be.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

You met him with as much as he gave and reached up to touch his cheek. It felt a little rough under your fingers, just like you remembered. You would probably always remember that feeling, long after you left the park.

That evening, you packed as many bags as you could. You put together the savings you’d been collecting for a few months. It had been at your coworker Jess’s advice, ever since you started feeling the inkling that something wasn’t right in your marriage.

After you were all packed, you took one last, long look at the space you had tried to make your home. With one last tear trailing your cheek, you stepped out of the apartment. You took the bus uptown, where you later checked into a hotel. 

When your husband finally got home from work, he would find a one-page letter written in your own hand. 

For once, Sam was actually home in his apartment. He was helping Dean take his suitcase to the front door after calling a taxi to come shortly. Sam wasn’t happy about it though.

“You don’t have to go so soon, Dean,” said Sam.

Dean gave a humorless laugh. He grabbed his coat from the rack and threw it on.

“I’ve gotta get back to the house. It’s already been empty too long,” he said. Three years too long. “Fact is, I’m just getting in your way here.”

He couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes as he went to the door, but Sam stopped him with a pressing hand on his arm, tugging him back.

“Hey,” Sam said, his brows furrowed. “That’s not true. Where’d you get that idea?”

Dean raised his brows. “You mean the way you’ve haven’t been home more than a few hours a night? The way the only time I see you is if I go find you at that office. You should open up a Bed n’ Breakfast there. You’d make a double killing in this town.”

Sam wilted. “Dean, we opened the firm barely a month ago. I’m just trying to—”

Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, relenting.

“Hey, look. I’m not judging you, Sammy. I’m not,” he said. “You’re building something. I know that. I just need to go figure out how to do the same, whatever that means for me.”

Sam stared back at him, still with that frown. His guilt and reluctance to see Dean go was reflected in his eyes; those sad puppy dog eyes that used to get him out of almost any punishment with their parents when the boys were young. Before.

The corner of Dean’s mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon,” he said.

“How soon is soon?” Sam asked. It was something their mother used to say to John whenever he called late, promising he’d come home after long days in town buying supplies for the farm.

“The divorce papers will be served to Michael Milligan,” Sam added, pointedly raising his brows. “She…could use your support.”

Dean’s smile faded at the mention of you. His hand slipped from Sam’s shoulder.

“She’s got a strong head on her shoulders. She’ll be all right,” he said. He heard the honk of the taxi outside. He grabbed up his hat, set it on his head, and took up his bags. He turned back to Sam at the last moment. “I’m sure you’ll look out for her.”

It was somehow both a question, and an imploring charge. Sam sighed, but he nodded in agreement. His brother could be so very stubborn. Once he got an idea of what he thought he needed to do, there was almost no talking him out of it.

Sam opened the door for him and walked him out to the car, helping him with his bags. Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you.

Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.

Dean released him first with a smile, and a heavy pat of Sam’s shoulder. He turned and climbed into the cab’s backseat. Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

Dean took up his suitcase as the train pulled into the station. He stepped up onto the platform and retrieved the ticket from his pocket, but he paused, hearing a familiar voice shouting his name.

He turned his head and saw Sam rushing to meet him at the platform.

“What’s the matter? What’re you doing here?” Dean asked in surprise. He didn’t like the wary apprehension written across Sam’s face.

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

AN: Come on, we needed at least one cliffhanger in this series! 😘 What do you think Sam rushed over to tell Dean? What did you think about their "goodbye," as well as her and Dean's goodbye? ...And are you ready for all the drama that's about to go down? lol 

Next Time:

Except the loud, insistent knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. Straightening up with a frown, you set down your glass and went over to the door. Maybe it was Housekeeping coming up to bring you the fresh towels you asked for. The ones that had been laid out in the bathroom smelled musty.

You opened the door to a tall frame taking up room in the doorway. It was Michael, standing there both disheveled and steaming mad. He held your letter crumpled in his left hand. 

“Michael, what—what’re you doing here?” you gasped and stepped back. He followed you inside the room and slammed it shut. He looked around at your open suitcases in disbelief, then finally at you.

“What’s this supposed to mean, huh?” he demanded to know. He shook the flimsy piece of paper at you.

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[fall0utmind]

I'm very picky with abo fics in general but your sick fic au? God it hits the spot perfectly!!

It has everything: Marc hiding that he's hurt, the people around realising that he's hurt but not Just How Badly Hurt he really is, dramatic and public reveal of just How Bad things really are. The guilt!!

Good god the guilt!!! The flavours of it, Marc who has been living with it and internelising that this is somehow his fault and that he's a bad omega, for a decade, (doubt that'll just disappear overnight!) maybe when Marc eventually wakes, barely aware and delirious from pain, He apologisees to Vale for having to deal with him again.. (you did say Marc blamed himself for Vale rejecting him, might as well twist the knife. Just hope Vale's alone when he says that cause Alex might just murder vale on the spot if he hears that).

Vale's guilt hitting him like a truck at first once his alpha realises that it's his fault that that his omegas in pain!! Seeing Marc unresponsive in a hospital bed, so small and fragile, and it's all because of him.. is it bad that I kinda want Vale to think deep down Marc hates him for doing this to him? Potentially Even More miscommunication? Because in vale's mind why wouldn't Marc hate him? Vale has been making his life a living hell for the past decade! Why would Marc want anything to do with him after That?

The guilt from Alex, and the other people close Marc, over not realising just how badly he was hurting, Pecco and the rest of the academy boys realising that by being around Marc they were causing him pain!!

Also speaking of the academy boys, you mentioned that Honda were a makeshift pack for Marc, and since Lucas now with Honda would someone accidentally say something to make him even more suspicious? I doubt anyone would intentionally say something, wouldn't betray Marc's trust like that, especially not to vale's brother, and I assume Marc would have been very careful with making sure noone fully knew just how serious things were, but like surely they noticed some things? Like Marc doesn't nest, doesn't scent, straight up disappears for days when he has a heat and comes back looking like hell?

Anyways sorry for the rambling! I can't wait to read this fic 🫶

Talking about two AUs at once is ruining my brain a bit. I keep buffering and getting confused 😭

Anyways, this has been in my asks bit for do long and I'm so sorry about that.

We sound like we value very similar things in fanfic, ngl. Cause what I really love in fics are:

- lots of hurt, especially when the MC is hiding his pain

- a huge amount of angst and pain - the closer we get to pain levels you can't come back from, the better.

- public realisations of the hurt that's been caused

- followed by loads of fluff

So, about what you said. Oh my God, yes. Marc internalising it is definitely going to happen. He thinks that it's all his fault, not outwardly but somewhere deep inside for sure. And yes, you're right. It's going to take him a long time to get over it and to stop internalising that he's a bad omega, and it's his fault. I can imagine that when he's first nesting again, and he's really struggling to do it, and he just thinks it's because he's a shit omega 🥺🥺 *again, Vale, when i get you 🔫🔫

But YEs what you said..

When Marc wakes up, there is a steady hum of machinery in the air and a steady beeping, which he feels would become irritating after a whole. He is barely conscious, everything's feeling dreamy, and pain still radiates through his body. He turns to his right, wincing as pain shoots through his side, a grimace on his face.

When he opens his eyes again, he meets Valentino's eyes. He has to blink rapidly to ensure he isn't still asleep, pinching himself lightly. Vale bats his hand away and Marc PANICS. Profuse apologies fall from his chapped lips as his eyes dart around in panic. Marc can't believe he's fucking it up again, making valentino sit here with him, when he's already made it clear that he doesn't want Marc. Because Marc is a bad omega. Who doesn't even deserve a pack.

"No, no. This wasn't meant to happen"

"I'm so sorry, valentino, I know - I know you don't want me. I'll leave, make sure it doesn't happen again. I'm sorry. You don't need to deal with me. You shouldn't have to. I'm so bad at this. A bad omega. No alpha should have to deal with a bad omega, " he rambles.

If he was more conscious, less drug-fueled, he wouldn't be saying this. Embarrassment curls in his gut, and yet he can't stop.

When marc drags his gaze back to Valentino, he chokes. There are tears in the older man's eyes and panic written all over his face.

-

Even better if Marc's family are there. Can you imagine Julia and Alex shouting at Valentino, can you imagine the hell that would break loose?

"You. You did this! You don't deserve to be an alpha"

"How dare you. You have no idea what he suffered. Get out!!"

-

I am living for this ask, it's so good. The idea that Vale thinks Marc hates him and the miscommunication is so good. More angst is fantastic.

I am obsessed with the idea that Valentino's alpha is freaking out. Firstly, at the sight of Marc, his omega, small, pale, fragile, and so SO unwell. Because of him. Im imagining that he actually doesn't realise it's his fault at first - instinct just took over when he saw marc collapse, and he ran, refused to leave marc alone, growling at anyone who got too close. Fuckkk. Then could you imagine, the doctors coming back in, saying it's bond sickness and pack withdrawal. Valentino frowning. And then it hits him like a tonne of bricks.

Valentino vomiting everything he's eaten into the nearest bin. His alpha thrashing inside of him, torn between the need to be near Marc and the all-consuming self hatred. Gosh 😭😭

And then yes, the idea that they miscommunicated, that Valentino tries to put space between them because clearly marc hates him now.

-

Then ALEX and MARCS FRIENDS

Stopppp everyone jusy realising they were indirectly hurting marc. The sadness they all feel. The way that he's better, everyone sticks closer to him, scenting him constantly and always keeping him nearby. They all stick nearby in the next, too, constantly touching.

Marc absolutely hating it- the pity and guilt.

-

Finally about luca - yes, I love this idea too. I think maybe he Overhears someone say something about how worried they are about marc. They realise luca is there and panic!!!! And then, yes, they won't tell him what it's about, but he's very suspicious.

So he starts to scout, information gather, goes to hound dani and dovi for information about what's happened. I think he only begins to realise as marc is already getting sicker. By that point, it's almost too late. He tries to warn Vale, but he won't hear it. 💔💔💔

Also, yes, people are definitely suspicious. I've touched on this briefly, but people notice for sure. Only the people close to him notice the lack of scent. His teams and teammates notice the whole no heats after 2018. A couple of people notice the coming back from heats like shit from 2015-18 (there are some theories, also some not nice words from certain people). But no one wants to ask. It's a bit taboo. Plus like it would feel like going against Vale. So people notice, but they don't do anything and don't say anything (it makes the guilt so much worse)

Thank you for rambling. I loved all of your ideas and answering this!!.

[indighostoast]

I have an angsty hc i would like to share with the class today: (inspired by a convo i had with @aannonn)

We all know how Green is considered good at everything? And how it’s a contrast to his first appearance in AVA 4, where he was visibly being beat up. Now he’s considered the second (lol) best fighter, only behind… Second.

Honestly, I’ve interpreted that as him getting better at fighting and building and stuff not just for himself, but so his friends can be proud of him, too. He doesn’t do it for himself, he wants his friends validation, too, that he’s done something amazing. He wants them to be proud of him, since he doesn’t feel like he’s enough for them. And so he sticks by them; (lol sticks) he’s considered to be very loyal among the group. (Or, it’s so he can protect his friends, so they would never get hurt again. In that which he feels as though he failed)

But. We’ve seen in Build Battle how they kind of… don’t celebrate his achievements. They’ve become used to him being good at everything that it’s almost expected of him. He wants their approval, but just ends up with getting his builds blown up, or summoning a Wither. And the entire thing with NBC, which i’m not going to dive into but yeah. Basically, his achievements become what’s expected of him, and from his perspective, it starts to feel diminished, or that they don’t appreciate him. (But he still tries to get their praise)

Thing is, I thought that Green has been a validation seeker for a long time now, but now in this arc, he gets it. Not from his friends, but from the internet. But a part of him still hopes he could be enough for them. (But he ends up hurting them, thinking that he doesn’t need their help to feel validated anymore. We saw how well that turned out)

So basically, because all of that didn’t make any sense and was me rambling my hc is: Green has been a validation seeker for a long time now, but it’s his friends, rather than social media. Now, though, he thinks he doesn’t need it from them. (Because he’s not enough for them, and when they finally come back from where they are hiding, he’ll never be enough for them after what he did.)

His character… AUGHHHHHH- his character…

[lazylittledragon]

i said that gale and cyra have disaster romcom energy and now it's all i can think about

[littlecrittereli]

Hey I'm writing a Wild Kratts x Avatar the last Airbender fanfic and a lot of inspo for Chris and Martins relationship comes from your guardian au! I was wondering if you had any things to keep in mind when writing them or little things about their relationship in your own au that I can steal lol

Well in guardianship AU specifically their dynamic is a little different from canon because their personalities are a little different too (stemming from the fact that their parents died and Martin has been raising Chris)

In guardianship AU, Martin is a lot more mature because he HAD to be. He frets over every little detail when it comes to Chris because not only is he worried about keeping custody of him, but also wants to ensure that Chris has as normal and healthy of a childhood as possible. He wants Chris to be able to be a kid for as long as possible, because Martin was robbed of that the moment their parents died. He's also very self conscious about his qualifications to be raising Chris. He's worried that he's not doing a good job, and Chris would be better off under someone else's care, and Martin sometimes thinks of himself as selfish for not being willing to give up custody even if it would be "better" for Chris.

Chris on the other hand, is not as naive as Martin likes to think. He knows about their struggles despite how hard Martin tries to hide them. He thinks of himself as mature and desperately wishes people would treat him like it. He sees Martin struggle for years after their parent's death, and wants nothing more than to help somehow, but Martin would never let him. So he gets angry and lashes out sometimes because of the restrictions Chris feels he's under. He's very aware that he can be a handful. He also believes that Martin would be doing far better in life if he had just given up custody. Chris is too scared Martin would go through with it if he ever mentioned it though. So they never talk about it. All Chris wants is Martin to be happy, he just doesn't realize he already brings that in Martin's life.

Basically they don't confide in each other like in canon. Mostly because of the age difference and the fact that Martin is in a parental role for Chris. They're not as close with open communication. They still care about each other more than anything, but with Martin's feelings of inferiority, and Chris' insecurities, they both assume the other would be better off without them. And those unspoken fears causes a lot of tension.

Of course they will work it out when Chris gets a bit older and is able to express himself properly, and Martin will feel less obligated to shield him from everything... but for now that's about how it is

[phoenixcatch7]

Loz fandom stop being angsty and give the daydreaming kids on big fun adventures with a cool glowing sword some actual whimsy and joy challenge

[lloydfrontera]

related to this do you think part of the reason javier wanted to be a knight of the frontera family so badly was because. that way he could stay. that way he could always be with them. maybe he wasn't and never would be part of the family, not really, but as long he could stay with them... couldn't that be enough? wasn't being allowed to stay worth giving his loyalty and even his life for them?

and do you think arcos accepted javier's oath as knight because he thought that maybe this way he could get him to stay. this way the child he grew to love as his own son would never have to leave. that he saw the kid he'd raised all those years, barely an adult and already ready to put his life in the line for someone else, and when he was offered the chance to keep him at his family's side forever, he took it with guilty relief. aware that if javier left he would go on to do great amazing things, so talented he'd be sought after by kings and emperors, but equally aware of the dangers that carried. that if javier left there was a chance he would never see him again. but if he stayed with them, if he stayed in their quiet and boring estate where nothing really happened... maybe he wouldn't become the great hero arcos knew he could, but he would be safe. and he's not javier's father, he missed that chance and he doesn't know if he can ever have it back, but he loves the kid like he were and isn't a father's duty to worry about his children's safety above anything else? isn't it worth it for the world to have one less hero if he's keeping his kid where he's safe?

[knife-dad]

Yes it's upsetting to watch all the characters in Dracula behaving the way they do, but that's literally part of the horror. Not because they are behaving poorly (although they sometimes are, by modern standards) but because they are behaving exactly as they should by Victorian standards, and are suffering anyway.

When you look at it in a historical context, the horror arises from the fact that these are good, faithful and virtuous (again, by Victorian standards) protagonists beset by an unholy evil that persists, unaffected by their faith or good will. In any other story, the integrity of the protagonists would help them prevail, but here it forms part of their downfall.

[amethyst-halo]

im noticing as i watch twt for the trillionth time that cooper moves his ears up n down but none of the funk trolls do, n i think that's a cute lil thing from being raised a pop troll bc pop trolls' ears are very expressive and funk's tend to just droop down naturally

[futuristichedge]

Thinking about which Sonic characters struggle in social situations and coming to the realization that it's the majority (if not all) of the cast.

[symbologic]

Luffy vs. Zoro at Whiskey Peak

Unpopular opinion maybe, but the Luffy vs. Zoro clash in Whiskey Peak made sense for their characters. You could even argue that it was bound to happen, given their personalities.

Luffy likes the people who feed him. In the the face of their suffering, no matter who's responsible, he's too angry to concern himself with the reasons behind it. Zoro, on the other hand, prefers to handle things independently without saying much about it, especially if it means his crew gets to enjoy themselves a little longer

So it's not really surprising that Luffy would be blindsided by finding their hosts cut up by his swordsman, and that this would send him flying into a fit of rage. If he's never paused to listen to context or backstories before now, why would he start here? And of course, Zoro is not the type to back down from a challenge. He will match Luffy's energy and respond in kind

"But if Luffy were a good captain, he would have stopped to listen to Zoro's side of the story." Vivi tells him he's a bad captain two arcs later, precisely because of this kind of behavior. It clearly leaves an impression on Luffy, and we see he's grown into a better leader by the time he reaches Amazon Lily. (Almost as if Oda set all this development up on purpose with Whiskey Peak. HMM...)

"But Luffy refused to believe that Nami had killed Usopp in Arlong Park." This argument is like comparing apples to oranges. Nami did not actually do the murder that Johnny and Yosaku claim they saw, nor is she capable of killing people in cold blood. Of course Luffy isn't going to believe Nami killed Usopp based on hearsay. But in Whiskey Peak, Zoro did cut those bounty hunters. Luffy sees the evidence for himself, and he knows the carnage Zoro is capable of inflicting once he puts his mind to it. There is no denying what happened. Nothing other than Zoro saying "someone else did this" (or Nami knocking the soul out of him) was going to stop Luffy from going ballistic

"Why would Luffy fight so hard to recruit Zoro into his crew, firmly believing that he wasn't a bad person, only to later attack him because he believed Zoro was capable of harming 'innocent' people?" Because the fight was never about whether their hosts were "innocent" or not, not really. Their fight was about what Zoro did (assaulting the ones who fed them), and how those actions made Luffy feel (mad as hell, because these people FED THEM) For Luffy, context did not actually matter at that moment in time because, for him, "they fed me" unequivocally means "they're my friend", full stop This is even shown again in Mocktown! Both when Luffy unquestioningly eats an apple from Doc Q, and when Bellamy buys Luffy a drink in Mocktown. In the first case, Luffy only lived because he was lucky. And in the second case, he assumes Bellamy is a good person despite all evidence to the contrary, only to have his face brutally smashed into the bartop by Bellamy. Luffy is shockingly bad at reading people who try to feed him.

Luffy has interpersonal conflicts with all the core members from East Blue at different times. The fight with Zoro is the only one instigated by Luffy. But surprisingly, their fight highlights their similarities instead of their differences. They still fight equally and work together against BW agents who try to interfere with their fight.

I think that's what Oda wanted to showcase with this scene.

In short, Luffy's initial anger stemmed from his protectiveness towards those who have fed him, while Zoro's actions were driven by his dedication to the crew and subsequent refusal to back down from Luffy's challenge. It was a clash resulting from miscommunication and misunderstanding, something that is not typically a problem for them — until it suddenly becomes one When all is said and done, they're both quick to forgive and forget. This, too, is fitting for both their characters. From that point onward, Zoro continues to demonstrate that Luffy's trust is not misplaced. And Luffy never, ever doubts Zoro again after this