#theres a read stain on the paper

[dawnthefluffyduck]

This game is so pretty 🥹

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[yearningandstillnotlearning]

A r t .

- B.E.

Blurb :p | no use of any names for the characters, just “she” and “you”

a/n: first fanfic posted ever im so nervous | this was my yearning from some months ago i decided to make it into something more | please comment on your opinion on this im nervy

Not fluffy nor sexual but a secret third thing (sensual)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Have you got colour in your cheeks?

Leftover snack packets and crumbs of cookies and sugar littering the couch of the living room, clock read 12:38AM, its past midnight, yet for two girls with a sleep schedule as theirs, the night is still young, too young.

Family and friends long gone, others went home others went on dates, and another stayed behind to cherish this very moment.

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you’re in deep?

Laughs had hit the walls hours ago when they were once gathered up to 7, and even now at 2 laughs are still bouncing back and forth. Sneaky giggles and stupid jokes, unexplainable videos that just seem so funny when its late and for once youre not alone.

Energy drinks on the floor next to the bed and an annoyingly bright light hitting at the side to make up for the lack of sun, yet thats the last thing to bother you right now. Theres nothing that could actually bother you right now, not when you finally have her in front of you.

Ive dreamt about you nearly every night this week

Sketchbook in your lap, pencil in your hand and coloured pencils scattered along your side on the bed, criss crossed bodies mirroring each other face to face.

Even if your face wasn’t able to stay in one place. Even if your face couldn’t handle the urge to heat and melt your makeup off in the process, even if you couldn’t handle looking at her, as much as you couldn’t handle her looking at you.

How many secrets can you keep?

Your heart thumping in your chest the same way it does when you’re at a club next to the speaker, body shook with the beat of the speakers and the bass, and you couldn’t tell if its from the amount of energy drinks you’ve consumed this evening or her presence.

But this is better, oh this is way better, theres no eardrum-breaking noise, or people squished up together, stomach-stirring drinks, uncomfortable heels. None of that.

This is simply adrenaline in itself, it was the excitement pumping in your veins.

Cause theres this tune i found that makes me think of you somehow and i play it on repeat..

Emotions thumping at your heart and in your veins causing your blood to rush to your face, cheeks burning red, but the colour showed at your ears, palms so sweaty you hold your sketchbook carefully to not wet and bend the paper. Neck and collarbone stained with red rash spots, just how into her are you?

Shes not stupid now, you tell that to yourself to sleep better at night. She has noticed everything, a simple blood rush is nothing. The way you look at her when everyone is talking laughing and you’re quiet? When your choice of “recharging” your social battery is looking at and through her? When you’re alone and suddenly your voice drops to just above a whisper, sweeter than any sugarcoated candy? When you doodle her and her only out of so many people, there are 5 other people with you two, yet who do you draw the most? You spend all your effort and time on her, enjoyably so.

Until i fall asleep,

A hand picking up your own has a wave of goosebumps sent across your body, a wave of heat while doing so. An amused laugh breaks your gaze, from the mixed hands, up to her own stare.

Shes staring at you, and you’re wishing she would stare nowhere near you. The fear in your brain banging like a migraine, wordlessly telling you she sees it all, and the very same fear in your body, giving her all the confirmation she needs. Her eyes softening as her one-sided laughter dies down, and you’ve yet to actually see her. So far you have been too caught up in your own thoughts to see in front of you until now.

A hand holding your burning one to her also heated cheek, and a twinkle in her eye right between that blown out pupil and icy blue cloud that dances like the stars do on the dark night sky right outside the window.

“I knew you felt it too, Im not crazy to like you”

spillin’ drinks on my settee.

[watery-melon-baller]

3, 7, and 40 for weekend and belos'

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

ooooh theres so many i would never touch. the first one that comes to mind is accidental pregnancy which like. i dont even write romance much. also hate student/teacher. uhh nonromance id go with. uh. i cannot think of anything rn lmao

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

ooooh id have to go with a snippet from a shera fic i did a while back. torn between two but ill go with the shorter one just because. not sure what counts as a snippet oops.

"Adora rolls her eyes, but stands up to join them. As she runs over, she knows that she’ll trip over her dress several times, and their clothes will all be covered in grass stains that will take forever to wash out. But Adora is here, in a future where there is no war to fight, where they can laugh freely and love and she doesn't feel selfish anymore for wanting a happy ending."

bad at explaining myself but like. its the potential of a happy ending, of not everything being perfect but it good, and thats worth living for. its a whole metaphor about feminity and wartime and accepting yourself. that its okay to be safe now, its okay to be soft and vulnerable and to start healing. apologies for being incoherent

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

ohohohohhohho you know whats funny. i actually did have an alternate ending planned where hunter just. slept through the rebelllion and just woke up after it was over and was like "what the fuck." anyways i sat down and wrote this in a night (ive been saving the ask until it was finished so thats why im answering it late sorry!) so enjoy 2k words of that under the cut. apologies for typos i tried my best to read this over lmao. you can also read this on ao3 now yipee

Hunter stared at his clock, and scowled. Shit. He had 20 minutes until the coven head meeting!

He stood up, quickly scrambling for his notes.  He wanted to try and get there early, so he could figure out somewhat of a plan.

Flapjack lifted their head up, disrupted from their slumber. What is boy doing?

His foot slipped on a piece of paper, and he barely managed to catch himself on the edge of his desk. “I have a meeting! I need to go talk to the other coven heads, and-”

Have time! Should rest!

He scowled. “Flapjack, I don’t have time to rest! I need to prepare my notes! I still haven’t figure out what I’m going to say to Terra, or Adrian, or how to deal with the recent riots-”

Nap time! Boy too tired to think!

“You always say it’s nap time.”

Because boy is always tired!

He sighed, flopping back on his bed and letting the stack of papers in his arms scatter onto the floor. Flapjack did have a bit of a point. He had been staying up later and later, getting less sleep in favor of trying to take care of… well, everything.

He could get ready in ten minutes. It wouldn’t take long to teleport. Just closing his eyes for a few minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. And he wouldn’t actually fall asleep. He would just lay here!

“Just ten minutes. Then I have to go.”

Flapjack chirped. Nap! Nap!

“Not a nap, Flap,” He mumbled. “M just resting my eyes.”

He didn’t even realize he was falling asleep.

___

He woke up to the smell of smoke.

He shot up out of bed, head swiveling as he took stock of the room. Everything seemed to be in order, except-

“FLAPJACK!”

The bird had at some point moved inside his shirt. They peeked their head out, looking adorable as always, but Hunter wasn’t fooled.

He glared at them. “I said ten minutes.”

Boy needed nap!

He pointed at the window. “IT’S DARK OUTSIDE NOW! IT’S NIGHTTIME!”

Not that late. Sun just set. More like evening!

He dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “Flapjack. I missed the coven head meeting. The one thing I cannot, under any circumstances, miss.”

Flapjack did not look even remotely apologetic.

Hunter sighed, standing up and brushing back his hair. The smell of smoke was still lingering in the air, and he poked his head out the window, following the smell.

Ah. That might be a problem.

The area of the castle where Terra and Adrian had been fighting the other day looked even worse than before, mainly because it was on fire. Several scouts were running around in a panic, and if he listened closely, he could hear the faint sound of screaming.

Flapjack had moved to sit on his desk, and he slowly turned to glare at them. “Flapjack.”

They chirped.

“This is why we don’t skip coven head meetings! Look at what happened while I was asleep. The castle is on fire!” He sighed. 

Could be worse!

He flung his arms out, staring the bird down in frustration. “How could this be worse?!”

The Titan must have thought that was funny, because at that moment his door was slammed open with a war cry.

“GOLDEN GUARD!”

Something (someone?) charged through his door, and he screeched, barely avoiding their tackle. Whoever it was slammed into his wall, sending feathers flying everywhere. Why there were feathers, he didn’t know. Maybe they were because of the large wings that were almost smacking him in the face. 

Flapjack screeched, dive bombing the intruder, and Hunter quickly scrambled back, grabbing a heavy textbook detailing the criminal justice system and hurling it at their face. They shouted in pain, falling back onto the floor, and Hunter decided that was his cue to go.

He skidded out into the hallway, his slippers barely staying on his feet, while Flapjack circled nervously around his head. Behind him, he could hear the sound of the mystery attacker getting up, and he risked a glimpse behind him as Flapjack transformed into a staff.

“Golden Guard, kid, wait a second-”

Their voice sounded somewhat familiar, but he was too busy grabbing his staff. The last thing he saw before teleporting away into a haze of golden light was what looked to be some kind of harpy woman, heading straight for him.

He bounced across the castle, not having much of a destination in mind besides something that was away from the harpy lady. He materialized in a small room with dim lighting, and as he leaned against the brick walls he realized he was in the break room.

There were technically several break rooms scattered around the castle, but those were all empty storage closets scouts had converted into a break room in their free time with their own money. (Hunter may or may not have contributed to them with money from the castle treasury). This, however, was the official break room, the one all the coven heads used, and the one that the Emperor made somewhat of an attempt to maintain.

He hadn’t been here in a couple weeks, with the whole “accidentally killed my Uncle and now running the government from my bedroom” issue. Not much had changed since the last time he was here. The table was still stained, one of the chairs still had a wobbly leg, the sink was still dripping water because no one knew how to fix the leak, there were still a few spare coven cloaks lying in a pile on the floor, and the fridge still had several post-its about labeling your food properly and not letting it sit in the fridge for months and stink up the room.

The bulletin board, however, had a few changes. The ‘days since Kikimora tried to assassinate someone’ board had been reduced back to zero (last time he saw it it was at 11, which was a new record), and there were several notes stating that due to being understaffed, everyone would be getting extra shifts. Which was weird, because Hunter thought he was in charge of scheduling guard shifts, but he had handed off so many of his duties to Kikimora and random coven captains that he wasn’t sure anymore. Also, why had no one told him they were understaffed?

Someone had also brought in cookies, and there were still a few left. Yay! He grabbed one from the box, biting into it. 

“Want a piece? Its chocolate cricket flavor.” He broke off a small chunk, offering it to the palisman, who began gleefully pecking it. He finished eating the rest of the cookie, wandering over to the sink.

He smacked the faucet, hoping that maybe this time it would stop the leaking, but it did nothing. Like it did every time. He sighed, and turned towards the clawfee machine, turning it on. Next to the sink was a small collection of drying dishes, one of which included a mug that said ‘world’s best nephew’ in hot pink script.

“Hey Flapjack, I found my favorite mug!” He picked it up, thankfully finding it clean. He had been searching for that mug for weeks! Although, it seemed a bit inaccurate, with the whole ‘killed my uncle’ and ‘being a grimwalker of his brother’ thing. Nope, that was a problem for another time.

He shrugged, watching as the clawfee pot came to a boil. Flapjack was hopping around the table, pecking the various crumbs that had been left behind. Hunter should probably be stopping them, but he figured if Flapjack had survived this long with such little self preservation, they would probably be fine.

Probably.

He poured the clawfee into his mug, and moved to sit down in a chair. The good chair, not the one with the wobbly leg that made you rock back and forth every time you moved the slightest inch. 

He sighed, leaned back in his chair, and stared vacantly at the wall. “So,” he said calmly. “I think there might be a rebellion going on right now.”

Flapjack chirped anxiously. Hunter stared at the bird. “You know, this is why we don’t skip coven head meetings.”

He sipped on his clawfee, savoring the bitter taste. Oh, sweet caffeine, how he missed it. Having energy was fantastic.

“I should probably go out there and deal with that.”

Or don’t! Don’t risk yourself!

“Flapjack, I don’t think that's an option.”

Run away to woods! Can hunt for worms!

“I can’t eat worms! You can hunt all you want, I’ll forage for berries.”

Good plan!

Hunter groaned. “Terrible plan.” It wasn't like he had any ideas. He had been slowly preparing a runaway bag, but he had hoped he would have a few more weeks before he had to use it. This was his punishment for procrastinating. 

He stood up, taking a long swig of the coffee. “Okay, my stuff is in my room. Let’s see if we can try to sneak back there, and if anyone is still alive.” He looked down at himself, grimacing at his lack of armor. He was still in his PJS! 

Hesitantly, he lifted one of the coven scout cloaks from the pile on the floor, checking it over. There didn’t appear to be any visible stains, so he shrugged, putting it on.

Flapjack chirped, and fluttered on top of his head. Hunter sighed, but said nothing, pulling up his hood to cover the bird. He opened the door and hesitantly peeked his head out. There didn’t seem to be anyone, so he stepped out into the hallway, letting the door shut behind him.

Picking a random direction, he began walking, the only sound being his bunny slippers slapping against the tile. He nervously clutched his cloak, suddenly beginning to regret every decision he had ever made that had led him to this situation.

He rounded a corner to see a hallway that looked very much destroyed. A section of the ceiling had collapsed, and plants and abomination goo was everywhere. Several coven scouts were lying unconscious on the floor.

Hunter bit his lip, and with a start realized he was still holding his mug. There was still a little bit of clawfee in it, so he could throw it at someone and run if he needed to. The perfect weapon. What a plan.

He froze at the sound of footsteps, frantically looking for a place to hide. He slid behind a pile of rubble, hoping that he would just be mistaken for an unconscious scout.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, and then stopped. “I could have sworn I heard something over here,” a familiar voice muttered. Oh shit.

Hunter involuntarily flinched, shifting the rubble he was hiding behind with his movement.

“Over there!” Oh, he recognized that voice too, although it was only marginally better than the first one. Maybe if he stayed very very still, they wouldn’t notice him?

He yelped as abomination goo wrapped around his legs, dragging him out into the open and pinning his arms to his side. He scowled at the awkward angle his arm was held at, the clawfee slowly dripping out of his mug and onto the floor.

Darius crossed his arms, lifting an eyebrow at Hunter. “Ah, Little prince. You’re looking… unwell.”

Hunter, very maturely, stuck out his tongue, something that only caused Darius’s scowl to deepen.

Behind Darius, Luz cheerfully waved at him. “Hi Hunter! You kind of caught us at a bad time.” She turned down the hallway, cupping a hand to her mouth. “HEY GUYS, WE FOUND HUNTER! OVER HERE!” 

Darius winced at her yelling, rubbing his ears. Hunter wished he could do the same, because wow Luz could shout loud.

The two of them turned back to face him and he grimaced. “Uh, hi?” He said awkwardly. Maybe they would be nice and just kill him right away. Luz could probably convince them not to hurt Flapjack.

Luz shoved her hands in her pockets, grinning casually. “Hunter, my man! I’ve been looking for you! Sorry about the whole, uh, overthrowing the government thing.”

‘It’s fine,” He said, even though it was very much not fine. “It was already falling apart anyways.”

Darius stepped towards him, frowning. “About that, actually. We have quite a few questions to ask you, Golden Guard.”

Luz’s grin became just a bit more shaky. “Not bad questions! Just, uh, questions. It’ll be great!” She did not sound convinced of her own words. “It’s fine.”

Hunter sighed. He should have just stayed in bed. This was all Flapjack’s fault. He was never trusting that adorable little bird again, no matter how cute they were.

[am-i-sans]

dnd adventure 12

time for everyone to save dans! hopefully.

astral and cam come out of eeby deeby seeing dans fuckin dead and inferno on the ground lol

wished to ekedalen! i wrote like so much of this session i was zooming lol

world building coming in handy! healers wander the town!

Dans Backstory 1

all the shit i wrote dear god nothing is organized

taking dans to the hospital hoping for help.

undyne had to stop them from picking the death card lol

leaving dans at the hospital to search for info

cam and suzy heading to the market for gossip!

inferno, frog, and tori head to Grillbys!

undyne looking for mystical shit.

suzy hears gossip about murdered warlocks, slavers, ect.

shades hanging out at the bar~

shades joins the party! temporary pog

astral goes eeby deeby F

shades pogs out at undyne cause a paladin saved her as a kid from slavers.

old man whispers (crazy old ralsei) poggers

they get to the creepy house but none of them can read the statues plaque lol

have to restrain inferno from attacking frog.

undyne and inferno in 1 group 2nd floor

cam suzy and shades in 2 group 3rd floor

tori and frog in 3 group 1st floor

undyne found the library! inferno found my wedding ring :( give it back. undyne took the ring back :3

cam fell oh noes! their ok tho! i caught them this time tho! found the armory. nothing useful. full of skeletons. broken rifle.

tori and frog found the kitchen! gross, old, firebombed.

back to group 1! found the trophy room and the dragon head! undyne wasnt super interested though, shes in serious mode. she took the sword out poggers. inferno took the head lol

group 2! investigation check i got a nat 25 and suzy got a fuckin 0 how. we found the bathroom! bloodstained floor! bird in the sink! damp and broken tub. no working water. floor 3 is done.

group 3! they find the butlers quarters! struggle signs, bloodstains. servants quarters are a mess too. They also find the indoor garden! everythings dead and burnt. they get attacked! a vine blight? tori crit it and it left lol. 1st floor done!

everyone heads to 4th floor! inferno fell back to the 1st floor lol

we find a childs bedroom! with torture devices in it. cam and tori are having fun. we find a jar of screams! open it up, screams. suzy smashes it against the wall and releases the screams. its a kids. good job suzy. inferno could hear it from downstairs lol. cam trying to discover who's room this is hmmm.

moving on from that horror! we find a ballroom! pog! all the stained glass is broken. theres a bear! sees us and goes back to sleep. burned up music sheets. a homonuculus just hanging around. cam picks them up cause why not. broken instruments. working piano. a working record player. (everything stays) voiced by a strange woman? and an egg. just an egg. undyne crushes it lol. i take the record from the record player.

GHOST IN THE HALLWAY! disappears quickly.

Inferno finds a secret door?! OOOOOO

A religion Center. Prayer room? Idols for The Angel, The Void, and Moss. Desecrated and ransaked room. Prayer book on the floor. Lots of mysterious alchemical vials all around. Dont drink them. Papers and books scattered. Notes and attempted spells, failed resurrections.

Shades says dans and a paladin saved her from slavers years ago.

NEXT ROOM!

A bedroom! Very dusty. Broken armor in the corner. Notes in the room. A paladin letter of recommendation for...Papyrus Dosser?! OOOOO guess he never made it.

NEXT ROOM WHOOOOO

another kids bedroom. normal and dusty. kids letters on the floor! cam reads them poggers. sadge!

NEXT ROOM!

Smashed up bedroom. Fox lives in a hole in the wall. Large family portrait. Dans, Papyrus, and a child holding a ferret. A Lockbox. More letters sloppily written. Letters from an adult. Preserved Echo Flowers. Bundle of torn newspaper clippings. An orb of memories.

Undyne ripped open the lockbox wtf. Shackles covered in old blood. Never forget written on a note. Undyne puts it away lol.

Orb of memories. Shows dans murdering his parents. He stabs them to death. He burns it all down. Cam reads dans suicide note! yay! Frisk, Papyrus, Tamara. Family. they also read the kids letters again. vani the pet ferret. awwww. Undyne reads the other letter. Paladin Kris. The echo flower just says "I love you daddy" cam is crying just like i said!

back downstairs!

(in the past) inferno trying to break into the secret door. he did it. 2 more doors pog. he found my treasure crypt the bastard. and an aboleth enemy! we rush in! yep we killed it!

cam went eeby deeby

shades showed undyne and tori a list of failed suicides. God. Said. No.

the other door! its full of skeletons! a crypt! and a bone devil! shades almost died omg. frog killed it im so proud.

we all got the prizes i rolled! (rocks)

inferno and suzy try to shove the doll into dans' mouth. undyne went no. but that might actually be the plan.

dans begins to wake. he sees the doll. blue screen. hes absolutely having a mental breakdown.

inferno went back to the wizard tower but noped out of there. and burned dans mail. he went to hide at his old hut home.

AND FAKE BATTLE AGAIN

undyne kills us of course. god dammit we need a full party.

[cyan-lun]

Sometimes i get this weird feeling. Its an unusual feeling thou its become quite regular. Its a feeling where your hands feel wrong, your boddy feels wrong, i feels fuzzy, you vision is unfocused, no matter how hard you try it stays the same, fuzzy, foreign. An unusual pulse rings in your ears, a beating heart, you thunk its yours, but your not sure, and as you sit infront of sheats of paper scribled with words you cant read, numbers you dont recognise, shapes that spin around, you poke at your finger with a pencil, theres no pain. You apply more pressure until you see blood. A single droplet falls, staining the paper in red, another one follows, yet the pain has yet to arrive, you feel numb, the world feels numb, it feels wrong, i feel wrong, aomething isnt right, you poke anothe hole into your palm, more blood flows out, but still no pain, just a pulsing numbness, and as the red on the page keeps growing a sound starts ringing in your ears, it gets louder and louder until it is all you can hear, tge world around you gets darker and darker and then there is sillence.

I forget my name sometime, i forget my age, and when i look in the mirror i dont recognise the person who stares back at me.

Its confusing, it comes and it goes as it wishes, i dont know when it starts, normally i fall asleep before it ends. Its an endles circle of unsureness, im scared of it, but also crave it, as numbing and confusing as it is, it also feels freeng, like seeing the wprld from a diferent perspective, with a diferent mind almost. I dont know how to escape it, i dont think that matters anymore.

[bugcolllection]

watch as a young girl grows older. blond hair that crinkles at the ends, wisps that curl loose and free from a pulled back elastic. a twisted grin that splits her face wide open, a red mouth as a watermelon severed in two. the crisp rasp of a wrapped library book lives aloft in the cradle of her elbow, a slip of shrived notebook paper splitting the pages down the middle. she stands off center, knees bent, fingers wiggling and legs shivering at the weight of her own heart. slick jeans that sit above her waist, tight and sticking to the soft skin of her stomach. and a buttoned shirt where the cotton tangles up under her arms.

she'll swing from monkey bars, and gloat when she hooks two feet in and dangles head down. her smile widens, a flipped crescent moon.

wood chips leave splinters in her palms, and teasing leaves slivers under her ribs. she'll be shoved in the halls. she'll be laughed at in math lessons. boys will toss wads of small paper at the net of hair that wont stay tame.

"can we be friends?"

"we already are."

and friendship will blossom in the classroom, two kids left to work on old assignments. she'll move after this year, but the girl had learned that friendship would not need be asked for. it would always just be.

everyones lunch is stellar, yet cold, dry turkey between crystal white bread, crunchy carrots stale with air, and hardened granola bars will greet her in that uncomfortably moist, square lunch box. if she could only have the spectacular lunch-ables.

she sits with her back to a young boy in her class, facing the wall. he has a mouth like a cobra, wicked teeth peaking past ruby red, chapped lips. his hands shuffle around. he eats a glistening donut, washing it down with gulps of sugar filled coke. she has no friends. she snaps those pale, puckered orange carrots alone.

"are you scared of me?"

"no."

"why do you sit with your back to us?"

from that day forward she faced the table properly, and learned that she need not outcast herself. that might be a task for others to curse towards her, instead.

its fifth grade.

"ill give you my chips."

"if you do, you can hang out with us at recess."

never once did she eat chips that year. she learned that friendship could be born from sacrifice. she learned that beautiful girls were easily admired. it was okay to be the odd one among them, with thighs like thick tree branches, hair like the withering fall leaves, a voice that crackled from nerves, hands that always ached from writing, eyes that squinted from endless nights reading with a flashlight.

how quickly friends can turn upon you. suddenly it was echoing staircases, a slow push and a swift stumble, toppling down the last four steps. blood trickles from skin pulled off. giggles bounce off the walls.

the boys wont talk to you. the rumors start. theres no use chit chatting with the gay girl.

fifth grade ends.

and in this juvenile blink of life, there manages to still be light. grass stains and after school apple slices. bus rides home where kids would gush over friday folders. cold winter days where kids would trickle in with wet soaked snow pants. legos scattered to the floor. food that was scarfed down with no second thoughts.

a childhood like amber around a moth. dangerous but beautiful, liquid fire turned ice.

[little-fairy-forest]

hey i saw your asks were open? ignore if they aren’t or if you’re not comfortable with this but....

how would Aged Up!Bakugou react to their s/o having to take care of their really young nephew or niece and bakugou comes home to them being motherly and taking care of the little kid😳😳

if you aren’t comfortable with this you can ignore this request but i’m excited to see what you think!

Wow what a username-

🍀 Hello! Yes my asks are always open ♡

I was thinking as well how would Bakugou react to smaller children, I mean he seems okay with them from the anime but I have a feeling his short fuse might make it hard

Bakugou reacting to his s/o being motherly

F/n = first name, extreme fluff, domestic

Bakugou hasn't come across many children by choice, may it be at a family gathering or his own colleagues bringing in their newborns to show to the office

He doesn't mind when children come up to him and ask for an autograph, that's easy. Smile. Hug. Autograph. Done

But when you mentioned you chose willingly to mind a young child, your nephew however. He was sceptical

Bakugou parked his car outside your shared apartment. He picked up some small bits for dinner that evening aswell as some Mochi ice cream to enjoy later. As he opened the door he could hear silence. Weren't you meant to be minding some shit stain?

"Babe? I'm home" Katsuki kicked off his shoes and exchanged them for slippers, dynamight slippers, and made his way into the small kitchen. As he placed his keys down and the small bag full of ingredients he noticed small toys littered the sitting room and couch.

Specifically a Red Riot Lego set half built, a Deku action figure and Creati play dough.

"Who the fuck brings so much crap to someone's house, I swear the ever loving fuck if that play dough got on the rug-" "Katsuki were in here!" As katuski's rant is paused for the time being, he makes his way into the guest room, he see's you and your nephew on the bed as you brush through his wet hair. "Hi..uh what's your name again?" "Katsuki!" "What I can't remember all your families names theres too many" katsuki says in defence. "Its f/n" your nephew says as he whines at you tugging on his hair "hey hey I'm almost done, after that can you go get comfy into your new pyjamas for me?" You say as you finish drying his hair.

"Katsuki can go grab f/n pyjamas from the bathroom I left them in there" you say as you put the dirty towel into the laundry bin "sure"" katsuki says as he makes his way into the bathroom, he sees the last of the bubbles from the clearly fun bath time left over. He grabs the dinosaur themed pyjamas as he steps on a floppy bath toy "ah what the fu-" "katsuki" y/n says with a tone that katsuki now knows he is to behave "what?! Theres shit everywhere-" "don't curse confront on f/n he will copy you!" y/n says as she takes the pyjamas and sets them out for f/n.

###

Katsuki is finishing up on cooking dinner, as he looks over at you and your nephew cuddled up on the couch as you read him a story from the bookshelf. As Katsuki watches how you speak in a calm tone as you brush your fingers through f/n's hair. He realises how your demeanor changed from not only 20 minutes prior in the bathroom. How did you go from threatening girlfriend to now soothing mother-

Mother

It hit him. Your acting like a motherly figure to the little boy. A small cry takes Katsuki out of his train of thought as he looks at your nephew about to cry as he shows you his paper cut on his finger "oh no! Let me go get a plaster, I'll he right back" you say as you go grab a 'magic plaster' .

"Would you like a glow in the dark Chargebolt one or a scratch n sniff Dynamight one?" "Dynamight!" "Hold on since when did I have scratch n sniff plasters?! and what the fuc- Fudge! Fudge does it smell like?!" Katsuki managed to save himself from cursing, but seriously who makes scratch n sniff plasters?

"It smells like caramel" f/n says as he watches y/n place the plaster on his finger. Y/n kisses it better . "Is it okay now?" "Yeah" f/n says as he makes his way over to the table waiting for dinner. "He's so cute" y/n says as she plates up the dinner "yeah yeah he's no brat for sure" katsuki peers over to see f/n is sitting quietly as he scratches his plaster and then sniffs it after "jesus might need to check with my merch management to see if we have anymore weird shit-" katsuki mumbles as he sits down to eat

###

Time passes as you all start to get ready for bed. You have a quick shower as f/n finishes watching the show on the tv. Katsuki is finishing up emails.

As y/n tucks f/n into the spare bed she starts to read him a story. She whispers so if he is to fall asleep during the book she won't wake him.

Katsuki gets suspicious as he hasn't heard anything in a while coming from the guest room. He makes his way over incase he wakes f/n. Katsuki peeps his head into the room to only see y/n fast asleep with f/n cuddled up to her side as the book long forgotten on the bed. Katsuki has a clouded look in his eyes as many thoughts are running through is mind

'She's so good with kids, no hassle at all'

'She's so gentle and caring, almost doting to the little guy'

'Will she be like that for our kids-'

Katsuki snaps out of his bubble...your kids? Like mini Katsuki's and mini y/n's running around? Would you like that? Because Katsuki is deffiently on board now

He wonders how long till that page of your journey together arrives.

Holy shit that was so fluffy and cutesy~

But for now, he is happy with how the love story between katsuki and y/n is going so far

Honestly love Bakugou being all fluffy <3

Anyway Requests are always open!

Thank you for reading :)

[stitchwork-madness26]

*GENTLY HOLDS SMOL LOVE*

Paring:mag agent torture x scientist!reader

Warning:mentiones of gore and murder with swearing

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

Working under a being made of shadow in nevada isn't so bad once you look past the occasional threats and murder...and lack of breaks....and the occasional breathing down your neck........and the lingering dread of you becoming a experiment if you don't do as your told - ok its terrible.

You kinda forgot how you got into this mess in the 1st place or how it started, as the distant memory of the time before Nevada went to shit was a big blur, almost like it was all just a dream. You tend to keep looking at the bright side even if its really hard to do that in this place, its almost a miracle that your still standing as most kind hearted grunts don't live long in this blood stained world. Maybe its because of your brilliant ideas? That you are to valuable to become a experiment? A ray of sunshine thats still around after the suns disappearance? You'll never know...

But enough of the depressing thoughts, you had a job to do. You stood up from your chair with a grin, a pen and clipboard in hand. Its time to meet someone very special to you.

Walking out of your office and down the hall you stopped at a large metal door shut tightly, on one side of the door displays a warning sign telling anyone who reads it that they must be a certain rank to enter such room while the other is a card reader. Pulling the card thats dangling around your neck you inserted the card in the card reader and the door pulls itself open allowing you to enter inside, with a grin still on your face you walked inside and the door slides shut behind you. You looked up at the mag agent that sits infront of you "hey big guy" you said in a sweet tone, followed by a hum in response. The large nails in his head preventing him to speak to you normally.

Mag agent torture was his full name but you call him tor or big guy for short, he was a special case practically one of the best agents the facility has. However in some certain tests to make him more powerful to defeat the infamous hank j. Wimbleton he gets really aggressive and had caused a massive massacre among the staff a few times because of this (see incident: 011A for details) but for some odd reason he had a soft spot for you. You made him calm, almost peaceful, he would not lash out or hurt you in any sort of way even if he was in pain from experiments. That is one of the many reasons why you and only you had to do the experiments on him, not like you wanted to do that to him but it was your job.

It was either do your work, or be 'fired'. And frankly. NO ONE WANTS TO BE FIRED.

"Head still hurts?" You asked, pressing down the top of your pen and once again getting another hum in response, yet somehow knowing exactly what hes saying with only a simple hum or gesture. "I hear you tor" you sighed, checking out a box on the paper "luckily theres not much to do today...so it'll be done quick" you attempted to reassure him, you know he would never harm you, yet somehow you still had this tingling feeling at the back of your mind that one day he will turn on you, paranoia and over working tends to do that to you though.

You smiled after noticing torture reached over and pat your head as gently as he could, almost like he had sensed your worry. "Im fine tor really" you said with a smile still on your face and set the clipboard and pen down on a nearby desk "lets go ahead and get started kay?" You continued, returning to your normal mood and tone. You didnt mind that you felt his eyes on you, he tends to observe what you and used to be others too on what they are doing. Almost in a curious manner.

It was and still is kinda cute.

You was just about to fill a large needle with a serum of some kind before you was suddenly scooped up by a large hand, you practically dropped the needle "what the fuck!?" You squealed in surprise before being pressed against fabric and hear the sound of a loud rumble resembling a purr. Honestly you kinda blanked for a minute before you realized what was happening.

Torture had picked you up and gently pressed you against his chest in a large hug, he continued to purr as he held you in place with his hands. You smiled warmly, your face growing warm, and tried to hug him back as best you could "love you too tor" you chuckled, enjoying this peaceful moment in the giants embrace as all your previous worries faded away...

[secretsandwriting]

Murder Made Us Do It

Part Twleve: A History of Cults summarized

It starts off with the black ops going over who knew about the details of the plan. Just them, the batfam, and Jacob. They all agreed the only one who wouldn't face any direct problems from the plan going wrong would be Jacob, As they were discussing it, Jacob and a scientist they remember from Devil's Hell broke in with a few men and kidnapped them.

Tim got a text from Alistair but it was just a ping at their house, next Jason got a call from Ry but it was actually Trash sounding distressed. Dick reveals that its part of a 3 person sos so they go to the house where Trash and Appa show them how to get into the safe which is hidden behind a bookshelf. (the classic pull a book and the door opens, the book to open it is called A history of cults)

Behind the bookshelf is an empty safe but Trash acts out that theres another safe under it, when jason pulls the decoy out, Dick puts in the code he had been given where they find three files and a notebook.

Once the entire justice league is there they scan the files so they can all read the page. The first file is Alistair and it all the information the cult collected including the experamentation and his death before he was resurected with a dose of an enhanced lazurus pit injection. They they find the same type of thing in Ry's and Y/n's files. However Y/n's comes to an abrupt halt and theres a blood stain on the paper.

There was nothing in the files that gave them the information they wanted so all that they had left was the notebook.

[novinoviarts]

FAIR WARNING! This is a bit of an au as there is very little lore on the witch's in bot ovenbreak and kingdom, two wiki pages worth. so theres your warning. dont like au's? Don't read further. credit to Blaze-On-Fire for the template

Name: Candy Cane Cookie

Gender: Female

Rarity: Witch Hunter (Rarer than Ancient) (Oh so special!)

Unlock quote: Everyone has power… Let me help you unlock yours

Class: Magic

Position: Front

Skill: TBA

Story: Created long ago by a witch, she was rescued by a group of rogue cookies, eventually becoming a Witch Hunter. After a disastrous mission, she and the remaining hunters found the “Cookie Realm”, a pocket world that they still defend to this day. A wanderer and a teacher at heart, she helps every cookie she meets unlock their true potential. Few can come close to matching her raw power and energy. Her full force can be devastating, but she is the pacifist of the Hunters, choosing peace. But if needed…

Facts: Candy Cane likes her naps

She is old, like really old, legends say she was The Third Batch, taught the secrets on killing witch’s by the First and Second Batches, and passed her knowledge onto the Fourth and Fifth Batch’s

So many don’t believe she is a witch hunter. Considering few have ever encountered a witch in the modern day, beside the St. Pastry Order, some don’t believe they exist

She hates the Crème Republic and the order for those reasons, thinks them idiots who think themselves safe if they do the witch’s bidding

She only became a teacher for one student at the Parfaedia Institute

She loves the rain due to her umbrella

She understands dark enchantress cookie. DOES NOT agree with her starting the war, and is miffed that one of the few non witch hunter cookies that knows the truth is evil

It gets worse when she finds out the truth about her

She has fought in several wars: The Great Hunt, The Reckoning, The Judgment, The Great Divide and The Great Reunion. She did not fight in the Dark Flour War, to busy fixing the barriers DEC was destroying

Cookie Décor: TBA

Associated Bonds: Once a student, always a student Candy Cane/Espresso/Pure Vanilla

Leaning back into her chair, Candy Cane looked over the two letters. They were so different, from the paper, to the handwriting, to the ink. But they both carried the same message.

Please, come visit.

One was written on a rich parchment, the handwriting flowing almost lyrically, although it was more relaxed than she had seen him write to dignitaries back in his kingdom’s heyday, knowing she cared little for political games. The little doodle in the corner of the page had her smiling, a flower that she had once given him on a staff years ago.

It reminded her of assignments, another’s handwriting with it although that filled her with nothing but sorrow.

The second was far more comfortable, in fact she could see stains along the edge from what she knew was coffee. The handwriting was neat, never sloppy in his letters, even after years of teaching his own class. It sent a pang of emotion she wasn’t sure of, a mixture of pride and sadness, of knowing she wasn’t really needed anymore.

It reminded her of assignments, of the little cookie she took under her wing years ago and fiercely defended.

But they had ended up in this new “Cookie Kingdom”, each there for their own reasons but now reaching out for her to come visit. She had of course heard the whispers on the wind of the return of the Dark Enchantress, had already written to Peacock ages ago with information.

Maybe it was time to visit her students, to help out once again. Standing up from the chair, she looked out upon her (friend? partner? lover?) fellow Hunter’s land, watching as the cookies below lived their lives, confident in the Hunters that watched over them, comforted that they would keep them safe. They would not lose that trust and she turned back towards her library. She would leave come morning.

The Hunters Reunite

Tree of Wishes Wish: Take your time, I have it

Soulstone Description

This stone holds a piece of Candy Cane Cookie's soul. It emanates so much energy, you can't hold it for very long...

Quotes:

Come on, its time for a break

This ol’thing? Just my Umbrella, nothing more

Lets make sure the lesson sticks this time, alright?

Bonds are important, make them, and keep them close

Touch:

Do you want to join a lesson?

What I can help with?

I prefer the rain

Time for a new lesson

Come on, lets walk together

Maybe I like a fight or two, so what?

Loading:

Candy Cane Cookie has always been a teacher, even in her fresh baked days with the younger cookies.

“Come on, lets use our power!”

“Of course I’m here, I will always fight for justice”

“There is so much the cookies of this world are protected from”

Level Up:

Alright, lets do this!

Lets take a walk together, hmm?

Thank you for this chance

Bring it on!

You can always learn new tricks!

Promotion: My Power is always growing

Victory: 

It was always assured

I knew we could do it

Oh, its raining!

Defeat: 

I need a nap

Its okay, we’ll do it next time

Aw, its sunny

[hypixelsblade]

[a small folded letter, paper ripped from the notebook and with instructions simply stating "put in his cabin somewhere". theres blue stains on them, and when opened up theres scribbled out words and a wilted, dead poppy. at the very end, is the message.]

dear technoblade.

i wish we could have been friends. i still think about the flowers we picked together. this one migjt be dead by the time this reaches you. sorry. for what its worth, i really did care

signed, @presidentubbo

Technoblade opens a drawer, and places the letter inside gently - wilted, dead poppy & all. It rests upon an envelope never sent, but the text on the back of the folded paper simply reads: Tubbo_.

[There is a letter inside that envelope. Though the recipient will never get to see it, it reads:

Tubbo_,

You were always stronger and more dangerous than the majority of the server gave you credit for. I hope you know that I never wanted to hurt you. Children should not have to fight wars, and I regret pulling that trigger almost every night. I'm sorry. You deserved better from me. I hope that you still love flowers as much as you used to.

Technoblade ]

[thefanbasewhore]

I loved your Javier preference can you do "You're not alone, I'm here." With Javier? 💞💞

Summary: based off the prompt list I reblogged. Javier is there for the new DEA agent after her first shoot out.

This is short, I'm getting ready to go to bed but wanted to fit a little something in. Enjoy! No use of Y/N.

Warning/content: Fluffy Javier, descriptions of shooting and killing. Reader is a young agent but her and Javi kind of have a thing.

Paring: Javier Peña/Female Reader

Colombia is beautiful, absolutely breath taking between the thick green forests, clear beaches and warm weather it's almost a dream. Family from the states would often stare how jealous they are of her, saying that one should be grateful for an opportunity like this.

But it was lonely.

Let's face it, being new anywhere sucks, the agents who have been here for years had their own clique, friends bonded by time and even blood which left her an unknowing outsider. While the other fellow DEA agents were grouping at a bar trying to forget the demons of the day she found herself alone every single night.

There's something about silence that makes chills creep up the devil's neck, the over thinking it entitles and she's has plenty of time personally witnessing how soul crushing it could be. After particularly rough days, seeing things that make her skin burn she would contemplate resigning, going home to face failure but at least have company again.

Two agents in particular are the only two who would bother talking to her. Agent Murphy and Agent Peña, desks only feet away from her own but she even thinks it's out of pure pity, they're nice men but work too much. Always busy, never around when the office dies and she's faced with the predicament of going home or staying longer at the office to avoid the insecure hours of silence that were bound to come.

"Agent." The words make her snap her head up away from the paper work scattered across the desk, peering into the dark swirls of brown, they match the curling hair at the base of his neck. "You ready to go?"

"Where?" The small dimples that pop through the patches of facial hair are enough to make anyone's knees weak, but luckily she's sitting, just admiring the beautiful man in front of her.

While she did believe it was only out of pity, she might have a teeny, tiny crush on him. How could she help it? Javier was hot headed, a fool with emotions, slept with a too many woman but was compassionate, smart, brave, handsome but most of all called her Hermosa.

She has no idea what it means, her spanish is shit but the way the words roll to perfectly from his tongue, the way his dimples peak smirking after they are muttered literally makes it hard to breath. Much like now, eyebrows raised in a teasing matter, a small chuckle falls from his perfect pout as he leans against the desk. "You didn't listen to a word I said did you?"

"I, um.." Hating the way her cheeks heat up she clears her throat, acting as if there's something stuck that causing the change of color in her face. "Was reading the report.."

"We need to head out to check a tip, meet you outside in ten hermosa." Theres thosd words again, she's completely speechless only nods a validation of understanding. She can't help as her eyes run down the back of his silhouette, a pink shirt stretches over his broad shoulders dipping into the curve of his slim waist then to his jeans that curve so perfectly over his -.

Shaking her head from the thoughts she stands, pulling her jacket over shoulders to joint Javier outside.

Javier is the perfect gentleman, opening the door to the car, asking if the air conditioning setting are okay not only once but twice not wanting her to be uncomfortable. Despite only knowing the man for a few months, and crushing embarrassingly hard, she felt more comfortable in this car then she did at her own home.

It's almost impossible to stop looking at him, one hand on the wheel, the other bringing a cigarette to his pout, lips wrapping around to take a large puff. His shirt is buttoned to the middle of his chest, even though it is scarce there are a few dark hairs that poke out from it, down his lean torso to his flattening thighs due to the pressure of the seat under him. He's looks so good, it's not right, he has to be at least ten or more years older but she wants nothing more than to lean against him, touch those lips with her own, run her fingers around the fatness of his bottom lip, feel his tongue poke out to suck on them.

"See something you like?" It's a tease, smirk that not only makes her cheek ignite but chest blush with pink patches. She's been caught, silent as her mouth drops to say something but Javier beats her to it. "I'm kidding, you should have seen your face."

"You're an asshole." The words are said with harsh tone, but with a smile and an eye roll that softens it up. "I was just actually wondering how many of those things you smoke a day, I heard they were bad for you."

The playful tone of earlier is gone, it's replaced by a lingering silence, a mix of anxiety and anticipation makes her stomach flip. The wall his cold against her skin but it helps hide her from the impending danger. Her breath is trembling, chest is expanding so fast she swears she can't breath.

It all happened so fast, Javier and her doing a sweep of the building then yelling, chaos erupting in the form of unforgiving bullets. Javier and her separated but him pushing her away from the danger only to face it head on himself.

One of them chasing and following her. While anyone would believe they would act heroic in the moment, run head first like Javi at the danger she couldn't, she ran up the stairs, hid in one of the bedrooms shooting the passerbys.

But now she realizes how much of a bad idea it was, trapping herself with the man only stands a few feet from her, a sickly smile matches his words as he points the gun at her. "There you are princess."

She's immobilized, pausing as eyes squeeze together expecting searing pain but the loud sound the echos the room has blood painting her face, body falling limp at her feet. Curled up in the most ridiculous position but eyes open wide with shock as Javier stands in front of her, gun still held high despite the dead man pooling blood on her legs, his own chest heaving with adrenaline.

She can't help it, the way the tears swell up, chin quivers no matter how much she tries to hide it. Javi's eyes never leave, only lower his gun, extending his hand for she can take it.

She reaches for it but the body the separates them makes her falter. "Hey -- look up, eyes on me. It's alright."

"I'm sorry. I ran away, I left you all alone." Word are breathlessly whispered with breaks, her lungs didn't want to work crushing her chest with deep sorrow. "I've never done this before."

Hands run over her face, feeling the blood smear across it, pulling her hand away to see the redness to meet the cause again before Javi is speaking again. "Eyes on me, take my hand."

The shift from the house to the car is blurry, between the tears and the blood it was nearly impossible to see anything, all she could think about was how slimy it felt against her pant leg, how the smell was almost metallically.

Javier had started the car, taking a drag of his cigarette and squeezing the bridge of his nose with the same hand. His eyes meet her again, noticing the blank stare directed at blood stained hands, Javi reaches over taking his jacket from the back seat to try and rub the blood away but it makes it worse, staining fingers a dark pink.

"I was the same way." Guessing it was her first time seeing a dead body but truthfully it doesn't get any easier, just starts to fade into normalcy. "Let's get you home hermosa."

"No --." The words are choked, loud as eye meet his with fear. Anything but the lingering silence home entitles, it would be a punishment not a relief. "Please, I don't want to go home. I am alone, I don't want to be alone."

Javi pauses to take in her words, eyebrows expressing confusion at the out burst. The way her chin quivers with uncertainty, tears push past eye lids if it wasn't for the situation he would tell her how beautiful she looks like this but instead slowly extends his hand to cup her cheek, moving closer to feel her warmth, thumb running over the highest point of her cheeks feeling them soak with a mixture of tears and blood. "You're not alone, I'm here sweet girl."

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x non!binary reader - part 8

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

Mulder pulled (Y/N) behind him as Winterfield approached. 

“I was going to bring you that buffoon of a sheriff as your first kill, but...” He grinned, sharp teeth appearing in his smile, “I suppose this works.” Mulder pulled his gun, aiming to towards the mad doctor. 

Suddenly, their stomach lurched. They turned away, puking up what felt like everything they’ve ever eaten. They moaned in pain, holding their stomach. When they inspected the puke, they backed away, seeing that their bile was tinged pink with blood. 

“What did you do to them!” He shouted. 

“Unfortunately, in all of my trials of turning my army, I have come to a conclusion. The DEA will leave their system very quickly and they can get away. However, when I give them the added poison, that...that brings them back to me. The bite cures all.” 

(Y/N) coughed, wet and painful sounding. They fell to their knees, their body jerking with each cough. Mulder went down besides them, seeing the blood splattered from each cough. 

“It’s already too late, Agent Mulder. If you want your partner to survive they must receive the bite. It is their only chance.” Winterfield turned away from them, staring up at the moon, hunching over and beginning to turn.

“Mulder.” They gasped, “You gotta get out of here.” 

“I’m not leaving you here.” He said, keeping an eye on. 

“I’m gonna die.” They gripped onto his shirt sleeve, blood staining where their fingers touched, “I can’t be the reason you die too. Please.” Mulder squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Alright, Winterfield. You got your wish.” He opened his eyes, holstering his gun and pulling (Y/N) to their feet, “Save them.” Mulder and (Y/N) stared at the beast. He was down on all fours and looked exactly like the descriptions. The size of a bear, but the body of a wolf. His eyes blazing red. 

“I knew you would see things my way.” The beast growled. 

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) started to panic. They tried to move away from Mulder but he had grabbed them by their arm and held it out. He wrapped his arm around their middle. 

“Mulder no!” They cried, “MULDER!” They watched as Winterfield’s awaiting jaws came closer. (Y/N) pulled at his fingers, scratching even. 

“FOX!” (Y/N) screamed, “No! No no-” They were cut off by a watery huk of blood. Standing before the beast, Mulder grabbed their free hand that was attempting to loosen his grip and pulled it to his side, hitting the cool plastic of his gun holster. The beast’s mouth opened wide, ready to claim their arm in his mouth. 

(Y/N) voice trembled, “This...is for them.” They brought Mulder’s gun up and pulled the trigger. The bullet passed through Winterfield’s open mouth and opened the back of his head. Blood splattered over the walls of the cave and on the agents, the beast fell. Before their eyes, they watched the beast slowly shift back into a man.

It was finally over. The man who had haunted their life, looming over their shoulders was gone. 

“It’s finally over.” They let out a long needed sigh of relief. Their knees gave out, bringing them down to the ground, their vision growing dark. 

“Mulder...I’m going home.” They hummed. He kneeled in front of them, holding them up by their cheeks.

“No, no you’re not. We still have to get your statement, we have to prove that he was the beast. We have the evidence to expose the truth.” He tapped their face, “Come on, open those eyes. Please, this can’t be the last time I see them.” Mulder begged. The last things they heard was the echo of Mulder’s voice calling their name as they slipped away. 

- 

Assistant director Skinner looked up at the agents from the report that he had been handed in.

"So your official statement is that Dr. Lyle Winterfield was comiting these killings under psychosis that he was a werewolf. Clinical lycanthropy."

Mulder nodded, "Yes, sir."

“And you shot him in self-defense.” Mulder nodded. AD Skinner turned to the other agent. 

“How are you feeling, Agent (Y/L/N).” 

(Y/N) took a deep breath, grateful they were able to breathe at all, “I’m well, sir. Thank you.”

“But you know that lying is a punishable offense. You were involved in this XFile, putting yourself and Agent Mulder in danger. This isn’t something I can ignore.” And there it was, the beginning of the end. 

“I know, sir. And I apologize to you and Agent Mulder for that. I just... I had to find the truth.” They said sincerely. Mulder looked at them out of the corner of his eye, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“There will be a board meeting about your status going forward. For now, you’re excused for the rest of this week. Your personal travel papers were approved for the funeral. My condolences.” 

They nodded, “Thank you, sir.” 

“You’re both dismissed.”

- 

The funeral was different than it had been the first time. The whole sheriff’s department showed up, hospital staff, nearly everyone in town. Linda Godfrey also showed up, only telling people she told them so a little. The town had decided to keep it a secret, but to keep the tourism alive they decided to make up stories that would continue to bring in paranormal investigators and those searching for the truth... just like they had been, just like Mulder.

They stayed at the cemetery, long after the crowd had gone. (Y/N) stared at the turned up soil where they had to rebury their parents. They stood, fiddling with their hands. 

“I want to thank you.” (Y/N) said to the air, “You knew something was wrong and took me away from that psycho before he could make me like him.” They teared up a little, “I just wish there was a different way home.” The crushing of the grass made them quickly wipe away their tears and turn. It was Mulder with two bouquets of flowers. 

“Mulder, what are you doing here?” 

“I’m your partner, I came to pay my respects, see you through this.” He kneeled down and placed the flowers against each grave stone. 

“I’m not your partner anymore. Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m an agent anymore.” They shook their head, “This was all I had left. I was helping people the best way I could and now I can’t even do that.” 

“About that.” Mulder stood, “I had a little meeting with Skinner and it’s all taken care of.” 

They stared at him, wide eyed, “What?” 

“I explained that because of your involvement we could bring Winterfield out of hiding and we could close the Xfile. He agreed, but you are being reassigned.” 

They grinned, “I could reassigned for janitor duty for all I care, this is great!”

“I don’t know.” He said, “I think you’re gonna hate it.” 

“Where is it? Violent crimes? Missing persons?” 

“Nope.” 

“Come on, Mulder, don’t mess with me.” They shoved his shoulder playfully. 

“You’ve been assigned to the xfiles. You’re stuck in the basement with me.” 

They chewed the inside of their cheek before saying: “Until Scully gets back?” 

He shook his head, “Nope.” 

Their chest burst with happiness. Not only does (Y/N) get to keep their job, they also get to stay with Mulder. They grinned, hugging Mulder tightly. He hugged them back, giving them a small squeeze. They pulled away slightly, looking up at him. His green eyes sparkled and his smile was everything. 

He leaned down slowly, giving them plenty of time to pull away, and pressed a light kiss to the corner of their mouth. He pulled away quickly, seeing their shocked expression. 

“I’m sorry, that was too forward of me-” (Y/N) cut him off with their lips on his. And that’s how it all began, their journey to becoming a special agent and Mx. Mulder.

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

My first XFiles fic! Yay! I have another one planned with Krycek but I’m not sure when that was going to happen. It’s a bit of self indulgence fic so I am not sure when I’ll have the details. 

Thank you all for reading!

Taglist:

- @theres-a-dog-outside-omg

- @nyotamalfoy

- @bi-andready-tocry

[goldenraeofsun]

just say yes

The latest installment of this verse... or 5 times Dean tries to propose to Cas.

Dean bites his lip as he scans the menu. What the hell is branzino, and where the fuck are the prices? He flips the flimsy piece of cream-colored paper over, but no dice. 

Thank god there’s a steak listed among the five lone entrees. It’s probably five times his normal dinner price tag, but Dean already made peace with putting off buying that 30 year anniversary Rush album. It’ll still be there after his next pay check. 

Cas eyes him over the top of his own menu. “What are you thinking?”

Marry me.

Dean doesn’t say that, though. He has plans. Keep his trap shut until dessert. Tell Cas he’s going to hit the head. Pull a waiter aside and ask for two glasses of champagne. Return to Cas. Hopefully not shit his pants as he proposes. Drink champagne. Go home and have fantastic engaged sex.

Dean has high hopes for the last part of the plan.

“Dean?”

Belatedly, he says, “The steak.”

Cas hums. “That does look good.” He ducks back behind his menu. “I was thinking of getting that too. But maybe not.”

Dean takes a hasty sip of water. “Get the steak if you want it, man. We don’t go to places like this often.”

“I think I’ll get the honey glazed salmon.”

“Sounds good,” Dean says lamely. He drinks more water. At this rate, he won’t have to fake the bathroom run.

Aren’t they supposed to have alcohol by this point? They’ve been sitting at their fancy-ass table in this fancy-ass restaurant for nearly fifteen minutes.

Maybe he shouldn’t have picked the newest five-star restaurant to propose to Cas. He’s already on edge from the pressure, and the pristine white tablecloth isn’t helping. He can already see five ways he’s gonna stain it. There are several forks in front of him. For fuck’s sake, this place has an actual chandelier. Dean hadn’t honestly thought they existed outside of billionaire mansions and Disney movies.

The live music is nice, though. A sedate piano tinkles in the background, barely audible over the buzz of polite dinner conversation.

Dean catches a glimpse of himself reflected in the dark windows to the street. He looks a little sweaty, but not as nervous as he feels, thank god.

This is stupid. He shouldn’t even be nervous.

They’ve talked about marriage before. They’re adults in an adult relationship, so popping the question out of the blue would go down like the time Dean swept Cas away for a surprise camping trip. Turns out, Cas did not like camping. Which Dean would have known if he had asked anytime in the past four years.

But… that marriage conversation was two years ago. Dean wasn’t ready then; they both weren’t. Cas was still in a bad place with Jimmy and Claire, and Bobby had just died, so they weren’t about to roadtrip to Vegas anytime soon.

Now, Claire can have a civil dinner with her parents, and the hole Bobby left in Dean’s life can go unnoticed some days.

The deal is, Dean can’t chicken out tonight. He already told Claire to make herself scarce. She can sleep at her parents’ or at Krissy’s, Dean doesn’t care, as long as she is not crashing on their sofa when they get back from dinner.

Dean would rather read a hundred plagarized student essays on The Very Hungry Caterpillar than admit to Claire he failed to ask Cas to marry him. 

So, proposal time.

The waiter comes by with their drinks and takes their orders. Conversation is a little stilted, but hopefully Cas chalks it up to Dean being outside his comfort zone in this fancy-ass place. There’s no steady thunk of darts hitting a board or clack of pool balls in the background to put him at ease. Just that lame piano.

Cas makes porn noises over his salmon at first bite, which Dean totally doesn’t get. It’s fish.

“How’s your steak?” Cas asks as he surfaces and dabs his mouth with his cloth napkin.

Dean belatedly slices off a piece of his meal and pops it in his mouth. A generically bland compliment dies on his tongue. Jesus Christ - that’s some good cow. It practically disintegrates before he can chew. “Great,” he tells Cas honestly.

Cas hums in contentment.

“And since you’re practically at third base with that salmon,” Dean starts, “I take it-”

“Oh my god!” a woman’s voice squeals behind them.

Dean reflexively turns his head in the direction of the commotion. A few tables over, near the center of the restaurant, a man is down on one knee, and - son of a bitch.

Dean watches, his mouth hanging open, as the woman shouts, “Yes, of course, yes!” Waiters walk past their table with a whole fucking bottle of champagne. People at nearby tables fucking clap.

Dean resolutely turns back around to face Cas, at a loss for words that aren’t extremely loud swears.

“Isn’t that nice?” Cas says mildly.

“Yeah, very nice for them,” Dean says through gritted teeth. 

Of all the goddamn nights. Of all the goddamn restaurants. What are the goddamn chances?

Dean slices into his steak with extreme prejudice. If he could murder the happy couple, he would. With zero regrets.

Fuck it all, Claire’s gonna be insufferable.

  A CHARMING B&B IN VERMONT

Dean wakes up delightfully cozy with Cas spooning him from behind. No memory foam, but the bed is delightfully springy anyway. It was definitely what they needed after a full school day and a nine-hour road trip. Luckily, the owner of the bed and breakfast, a charming older woman actually named Mrs. Butters, was happy to wait up for their late check-in last night. She even had hot cocoa waiting.

Dean had held out a slight hope they could christen their room before they turned in for the night, but Cas passed right out before Dean turned on the lights. Poor guy had to deal with three sets of angry parents, and it was only the second week of school. Something about how their supposed-genius kids should be in AP Latin instead of the Fun Latin class - aka the one for dumbass seniors.

The mid-morning sunlight filtering in from behind the plaid curtains casts everything in a warm glow. The room itself is beyond charming. There’s a legit fireplace next to the bed, and they’re currently nestled under a patchwork quilt. The wood panelled walls give a distinctly rustic feel to the place, despite the reasonably sized television screen mounted on the far wall.

Dean turns over in bed so he’s facing Cas instead of the door. He resists the urge to poke him awake, and instead prods with a gentle, “Cas.”

Cas grumbles wordlessly. Fucker doesn’t even open his eyes, although Dean can tell from how his breathing changes that he’s awake.

“Cas.”

Cas wrinkles his nose and shoves his face into the pillow. “What, Dean?”

Dean can barely make out the words, but he gets the gist from the million times Cas has done the exact same thing. “I smell bacon.”

Cas’s eyes slit open. “So?”

“Don’t you want bacon?”

Cas huffs, and Dean can tell the exact moment he resigns to waking up. “Then go get the bacon. Nobody’s stopping you, Meat Man.”

Dean wiggles in bed, jostling the whole mattress. “Come on, babe.”

“I was sleeping.” Cas raises his head to look squint out the window. “It has to be before ten am. Since when are you a morning person?”

Since today is the day Dean is going to propose.

Instead, Dean reminds him pointedly, “Bacon.”

“Ugh,” Cas groans as he sits up. “I expect at least a blow job after breakfast if we’re leaving bed this early.”

Dean slaps his ass and jumps out of bed before Cas can retaliate. “Up and at ‘em!”

“I hate you.”

“Love you too, Cas.”

* * *

Claire 11:02 Did you ask him yet? If he said no I’ve got chunky monkey waiting

Claire 11:31 That was a joke Uncle Cas will say yes Theres no way he wont

Claire 11:40 If you’re not answering because of sex don’t tell me

Dean sighs as his phone lights up with Claire’s latest text. In the bathroom, Cas hurls again. 

Dean 11:41 No proposal

The bubbles showing Claire’s typing start almost immediately.

Claire 11:41 Are you serious? He’s not goin to turn you down!!!

Dean 11:41 Food poisoning

Claire 11:42 HAHAHAHA

Dean scowls at his phone.

Dean 11:44 Not now, Claire.

Claire 11:44 Wait Seriously?

Dean 11:44 We think it was something he ate at breakfast

Claire 11:44 Oh fuck I’m sorry for laughing

Dean rereads her text. He hasn’t ever received a straight-up apology from Claire before. Unsure of how to respond, he sets down his phone and gently pushes open the bathroom door. “How’re you doing, babe?”

Cas, slumped over the toilet and looking like death warmed over, raises his head an inch. “It seems to be easing up.”

“Really?”

Cas vomits into the toilet again. He groans.

“Shit,” Dean mutters as he crouches next to Cas. He rubs his back with one hand. “Do you think you can get some water down?”

Cas nods, so Dean straightens and fills a glass next to the sink.

As Cas drinks, Dean runs a hand through Cas’s sweaty hair. His forehead has a sickly sheen to it, and the back of his neck feels hot.

“Dean -” Cas breaks off to cough the water right back up into the toilet. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no,” Dean says quickly as he refills the glass. “Don’t be sorry. This isn’t your fault.”

“But you had all these plans,” Cas moans as he takes the water to try again.

“We’ll do ‘em some other time.” He wets a washcloth and wipes down Cas’s forehead.

“Before Thanksgiving,” Cas rasps, “we’ll come back. I don’t want to miss the leaves changing.”

“Of course,” Dean says soothingly. He moves the washcloth to the nape of Cas’s neck. “On the bright side, you’ve been puking for, like, an hour. There can’t be much left.”

Cas, the dramatic bastard, nearly brains himself on the toilet seat with the force of his next hurl.

  HOMEMADE DINNER

After the disastrous fancy restaurant and B&B, a homemade dinner has to be the way to go. They’ll be in their own goddamn house - that has to cut down on the number of things that can go wrong.

Dean spends a whole week deliberating on what to make. He could do his usual burgers and fries routine, Cas’s favorite, but it should be special.

He settles on beef wellington. Pie for beef!

It’s a bitch to make - both because puff pastry from scratch is no joke, and hiding his first experiments from Cas means inventing increasingly convoluted reasons to get him out of the house. And, sure, every Youtube chef and Great British Bake off contestant has said store-bought puff pastry is fine, but Dean doesn’t want fine, he needs perfect. 

Dean picks a day when Cas has Model UN afterschool. It’s in the middle of the week, but at least Cas is guaranteed out of the house until six at night.

By 5:58, Dean is ready. The Wellington is cooling on the counter; the red wine has been breathing (whatever the hell that does) for the better part of an hour; and he’s showered and made himself presentable.

His phone pings at six pm on the dot. 

Heart sinking with foreboding, Dean taps the screen.

Cas 6:00 I’m going to be late for dinner. There was an accident with chemistry club a few minutes ago. The building had to be evacuated.

Dean 6:00 Are you OK?

Dean takes a moment to hammer the heel of his hand against his forehead. One fucking break. That’s all he’s asking for. One goddamn evening to go right.

Cas 6:00 Yes, and the kids are too. They’re airing out the halls now, but we won’t be let in for another half hour.

Dean picks up the wine with the hand not holding his phone. 

Dean 6:01 What time do you think you’ll be home?

Cas 6:01 7:30 maybe? I’ll keep you updated.

Dean swigs back a gulp straight from the bottle before he can answer. Fuck this.

Dean 6:02 Great! I’ll order pizza when you’re on your way back

Cas 6:02 Meatlovers?

Dean 6:02 Unless you’d like something else

Cas 6:02 No thank you :)

Dean flips on a recorded Jeopardy! episode as he cleans up the kitchen and texts Charlie. He has a free dinner waiting for her if she can hightail it to his place in the next hour and never speak of it again.

  HOMEMADE DINNER #2

If Dean is anything, he’s stubborn. John Winchester raised no quitter. Try, try, and try again. And try a fourth time, when the first three go sideways.

Burgers, this time. They don’t need a days’ worth of prep. And they’ll go over well.

“Dig in,” Dean says as he sets the plate down in front of Cas.

“This looks delicious, Dean,” Cas says sincerely as he picks up his burger.

Dean waits, and he can see the moment Cas tastes the molten cheese stuffed in the middle of the patty. His eyes go wide with surprise.

“Like it?”

Cas nods vigorously and inhales the rest of his burger in record time.

“There’s enough for us to have thirds,” Dean says smugly. 

Cas smears ketchup all over patty number two, and beams at him. “These make me very happy.”

Dean laughs. “That’s the goal-”

Cas’s phone rings.

Dean falters.

Cas stares at him expectantly, waiting for Dean to continue.

“You should get that,” Dean says, his shoulders slumping as he sets his burger down. It’s probably a bad sign he was already half-expecting things to go south. “It’s probably important, or whoever it is would’ve texted.”

“We’re in the middle of dinner,” Cas protests even as he reaches in his pocket to pull his phone out. “It’s Claire,” he says, baffled, before he picks up. “Hello?”

Cas sets down his half-eaten burger. He listens, his brows slamming down forbiddingly as Claire’s voice gets louder and louder, but still not loud enough for Dean to make out actual words. Silently, Cas takes his napkin off his lap and pushes his half-empty beer in Dean’s direction. Finally Cas says, “Yes, of course, Claire.”

Dean frowns as Cas lifts his gaze up to meet his. “Jimmy and Amelia?” he mouths.

Cas shakes his head, speaking into his phone,  “Does Kaia need a pick up from the hospital?”

Dean goes cold. Kaia was actually one of his favorite students. While she was in his class, she won a Scholastic Gold Key and honorable mention for two of her horror novellas and always did the reading. But Dean and Cas haven’t seen her since she broke up with Claire the summer before college.

“Is she okay?” Dean asks quietly.

Cas’s mouth thins. He gives a short nod.

Dean sighs and picks up the plate uneaten burgers. He can probably reheat the patties. The fries won’t keep, though, so he leaves the plate in front of Cas. He shoves a few in his mouth and gets to his feet.

He’s halfway through cleaning the frying pan when Cas gets off the phone with Claire.

“Are you heading out?” Dean asks gruffly while he gives the iron a particularly hard scrub.

“Yes,” Cas rumbles as he wraps an arm around Dean’s waist. “I’m sorry to cut dinner short.”

“Hey, it’s Kaia. ’Course we gotta help.” Dean forces an understanding smile on his face. “I’ll make up the couch while you pick her up?”

Cas squeezes him gently before moving away. “Thank you.”

“You got time for the cliff notes on what happened? Why’d you get the call?”

Cas leans against the counter next to the sink. “Kaia was in a car accident. She’s a little banged up, but mostly fine. A few bruised ribs and a possible concussion.” He shakes his head, disbelieving. “You know Kaia was never especially close with her foster family, so Claire got the emergency call.”

“Huh.” Dean grabs a plate to clean. “It’s been two years since the split.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure what their situation is. I know Claire was surprised. She’s already in her car, and she should be here by midnight. Hopefully she recognizes Kaia’s injuries,” he frowns, “and they won’t try any… any ‘hanky panky’ tonight.”

Dean laughs, and if it’s slightly higher than normal, Cas doesn’t seem to pick up on it. He grabs Cas and kisses him square on the mouth. “You are ridiculous. Nobody says hanky panky. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Cas scowls. “They have to be well past kissing at this point.”

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, that ship has long sailed, dude.”

Cas throws his hands in the air. “We don’t have enough sleeping surfaces to separate them.”

Dean sets the dirty plate down to face Cas fully. “Do you really think they’ll get back together? Kaia broke Claire’s heart not too long ago.”

Cas throws him a look like he wonders where the hell Dean’s logical brain has flown to. “Are you asking if I think couples can get back together after a harrowing break up?”

“… no.”

Cas shakes his head ruefully. “You’re more like Claire than I ever was, and you took me back.”

“Huh,” Dean wipes his hands off on a dishtowel, “you might have something there.”

“You do call me the smart one,” Cas says as he pushes off the counter and heads to the doorway. “It has been known to happen.”

“Smartass,” Dean corrects loudly as Cas grabs his coat and keys.

“Semantics.” Cas doubles back to kiss Dean a proper goodbye, and it’s just as electric as it was when they were seventeen. Cas tastes like Dean’s cooking, and he’s been letting his stubble grow out, the short hairs rasping against Dean’s palm as he cups Cas’s cheek.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas says as he draws away.

Dean grins. “I know.”

Cas huffs an almost-laugh as he heads back towards the door. “Now who’s the smartass?”

  IN BED

Cas, the son of a bitch, falls asleep before Dean can wring out a second orgasm out of him. Such a godamn shame. Just goes to show, they really aren’t teenagers anymore. At least Dean got to use the new vibrator he bought for the occasion and the edible panties. 

Dean flops back in bed. Maybe he should put the proposals on pause. Clearly, marriage isn’t in the cards. He can be a bit dense when it comes to Cas and him, but there’s dense and there’s denial.

It’s been two and a half months. Five proposal attempts. They’re nearly halfway through October, and he’s no closer to getting a ring on Cas’s finger than he was in late August, sweating bullets in that stupid fancy restaurant.

He can’t keep planning and failing to propose to Cas every other week. One, he can’t handle the stress and constant brainstorming. And B, he’s way behind in writing college recommendations and grading his freshman’s essays on Animal Farm. 

Cas isn’t going anywhere. Dean isn’t going anywhere. So Dean can cool the proposals for now and start fresh in January.

  SCHOOL ASSEMBLY

“I hate these,” Dean mutters to Benny. He frowns across the top rows of the bleachers where the seniors are supposed to sit. There are a few notable faces missing, but nobody that belongs to Dean’s homeroom, so he couldn’t give less of a shit. Below them, sit most of the juniors, and pretty much all of the sophomores and freshmen.

“It’s thirty minutes, brother,” Benny says, patting his arm. “You’ll live.”

“Shows what you know,” Dean grumbles back as Jody strides to the middle of the gym, microphone in hand. He asks Benny, “Do you know what this one’s about? Bullying? Cliques? Hugs not drugs?”

Benny shakes his head.

Jody sighs loudly into the mike. Clearly, she wants to be here just as much as he does. “Thank you all for coming,” she starts like any of them had a real choice. “First things first, Halloween is in two days, and while costumes are allowed and encouraged, don’t be racist.” She grimaces. “God help me, I don’t know why I still have to say that. If you are unsure if your costume is racist, it probably is. Wear something else. Secondly…”

Dean tunes her out. Instead, he scans the bleachers again, this time looking for Cas. He should be with the other sophomore homeroom teachers, but there’s no sign of him. Dean frowns. He can’t remember the last time Cas played hooky. And never without Dean. Dick move, Cas.

Movement at the edge of the gym catches Dean’s eye, and he watches, puzzled, as two students roll out one of the old projectors. The overhead lights turn off.

Is Jody seriously going to make him sit through a slide show? They’re wasting a prefectly good Friday morning on a goddamn PowerPoint?

The projector flips on, and the first photo is… of Dean. 

What the fuck? His mouth drops open in horror. In the picture, he’s in his junior year of high school - he can tell from the hair - with a bunch of people he hasn’t seen in fifteen years. Plus Cas, who’s at the next table over in the cafeteria, head bowed over a book and slightly out of focus.

There’s a click, and text scrawls along the bottom of the screen, Destiel Met in Edlund High School Fifteen Years Ago! 

The projector flips to the next photo, this time showing Dean’s senior yearbook picture.

More than a handful of students peer excitedly in his direction, undoubtedly hoping for a reaction.

Scowling, Dean cranes his neck to search the crowd for Charlie’s flaming red hair. She’s the only one who refers to the two of them as “Destiel”. Everyone else uses their names like sane people.

But the projector clicks to a photo of Cas, and Dean can’t help getting distracted. In the picture, Cas is alone at a table in the library. God, he was cute back then. His cheeks were a little fuller, and his hair was curlier. He still had the same intense blue-eyed stare, though. Patented Cas.

It all started with a tutoring session. Young Mr. W needed help in Latin, and our future Latin teacher, Mr. N, was up to the task!

Dean is going to kill Charlie. He tries to get to his feet - maybe she’s hiding behind Jo or something. But Benny’s hand grips his upper arm, holding him in place. “Don’t,” Benny says softly.

“What?” Dean demands as he tries to shake Benny off and fails. “Do you know what the hell is going on?”

“Stay.” The corners of Benny’s mouth twitch like he’s fighting a smile. “Watch.”

Dean huffs a breath and turns back around. If it was anyone else, Jo or Charlie, he wouldn’t trust a word out of their mouths. Benny, though, he’s not the type to make Dean sit through this without a good reason.

But that’s all ancient history. Destiel really got started five years ago, in this very gym.

The projector shows a picture of their class reunion, when Dean met Cas after ten years of no contact. They’re standing pretty close together (but that doesn’t mean much with Castiel What-Is-Personal-Space Novak), and they appear deep in conversation.

Since then, they have been inseparable.

Dean and Cas at a softball game. Dean and Cas at homecoming. Dean and Cas at GSA’s pride party.

Here’s to fifteen more years of Destiel!

The students clap and cheer with more than a few laughs.

Musical Interlude! flashes in front of a picture of Dean playing guitar to a group of pajama-clad students at last year’s Senior Lock-In.

The lights flip back on, and Dean blinks as his eyes adjust. By the time the spots have cleared from his vision, the projector has been wheeled away, leaving the main floor of the gym empty.

A staticky crackle echoes around the gym. And - is that Def Leppard playing on the speakers?

As the intro to Rock of Ages plays, the cheerleading team troops out from the locker rooms. 

They start a routine Dean’s never seen before. To Rock of fucking Ages.

The cheerleaders sings along with Joe Elliot, “What do you want?”

Dean’s mouth falls open as the entire high school chants back, “I want rock and roll. Long live rock and roll!”

By the time they get to the “Rock of Ages” chant, all the students are on their feet, clapping along with the beat and cheering.

The song dies down soon after, and Dean, a broad smile on his face, turns to Benny. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I dig it.”

Benny laughs. “Good. He’ll be pleased.”

Dean’s just about to ask who he is (he’s 99% he knows), when Cas walks out from behind the bleachers. 

Cas takes the microphone from Jody. He coughs nervously, waiting for the students to settle back down. “Thank you,” he says to the cheerleading team. “That was... awesome.” He glances up at the assembled students and teachers. “Dean-” he pauses as the cheers and clapping start up in earnest “-can you please come down here?”

But Dean’s frozen to the spot.

Benny gives him a not-so-light jab with his elbow. “Go on.”

Dean shakily gets to his feet and makes his way to the gym floor, and he swears his legs are about to give out from under him.

“Alright, you got my attention,” Dean says with forced bravado. “What’s up, Cas?”

The students hoot and holler.

Cas reddens as they die down again. Clutching the microphone in a death grip, he says, “Dean, we have been together for a number of years.”

Dean grins, a wonderful, all-consuming giddiness filling him the longer he stands in front of Cas. “I know, dude. I was there.”

The students laugh and someone, probably Jo, wolf whistles.

Cas swallows. “I wanted to do this here, where we first met, where you first asked me out on a date, where we had our first kiss.”

“Don’t tell ‘em about all our firsts on school property,” Dean says in a stage-whisper, “or Jody’s gonna have an aneurysm.”

Over a fresh round of student laughter, Jody puts her head in her hands. Donna, the school guidance counselor, pats her a few times on the back.

“Dean Winchester,” Cas says, and, shit, his hands are shaking. “I have loved you for more than half my life, and I look forward to far more than fifteen years by your side. Will you marry me?’

Dean’s not stupid. He had a strong hunch, ever since Rock of Ages played - aka the cassette he put in the Impala the first time he took Cas for a drive fifteen years and a lifetime ago - that this was what Cas was leading up to. 

He’s mostly surprised Cas had the guts to pop the question this way. There was a reason Dean tried to keep his proposal plans mostly to the two of them. One of them is practically a social hermit, and it’s sure as shit not Dean.

“Just say yes, jerk!”

Dean spins around, nearly tripping over his own feet in surprise. Fuck, that’s Sam. His giant of a brother is hovering right outside the gym’s double doors, beaming at the pair of them. Claire gives a little wave from where she’s half-hiding behind him.

Dean turns back to Cas. He can’t think about Sam right now. Or Claire. Or the five hundred students with their eyes on them. 

Only Cas.

“Cas,” he says, and it feels like the whole room is holding their collective breath, none more so than Cas, who looks like he’s about to pass out. “Man, I’ve loved you since I was seventeen. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Cas lets out a shaky exhale of relief, and Dean laughs. He takes the microphone from Cas’s now slack grip, steps all the way into Cas’s personal space, and kisses him.

The cheers from the assembled students are nearly deafening.

[brelione]

Feild Trip with a Rich Bitch (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Part Two

Mentions of drugs,Rafe being a bitch,swearing and blow torches :)

Also,Goddess Part Three will be up by Friday afternoon.If you would like to be tagged please let me know :)

He had always hated Pogues.Then he met you.

You worked at a car repair shop in The Cut.He had come in on his bike,well,he had walked the broken piece of shit to the shop.You were the only one working that day.He couldnt help but think you looked adorable with your long sleeve yellow shirt under dark blue overalls,a backwards red hat and at least six silver chains draped across your neck.You had been extremely focused,sitting indian style as you smoothed a weird bump on a car with a nail file. “So are you gonna stare at me or are you gonna tell me what youre doing here,pretty boy?”You asked,not taking your attention off the task at hand.He blinked,surprised by your carefree yet assertive tone. “Uhh...somethings wrong with my bike.”He mumbled,attempting to smooth out his hair.You let out a small laugh as you dragged a paint brush along the smooth metal,fixing the messy spot. “No shit.What’d you do to it?”You asked,spreading more paint across the metal.His face turned red as he glanced around the shop.

There were paintings across the walls,multiple tool boxes and a wall of paint swatches.There were six other cars parked,some of them with large dents,holes or scratches. “I drove it into a tree.”He mumbled.You nodded. “Magnificent job,pretty boy.How are you gonna have a bike as expensive as that one then drive it into a tree?”You asked.He just shrugged,hands in his pockets.You put your paintbrush down into a cup of water,pulling out a blowtorch from seemingly nowhere.The flame hovered above the paint,drying and hardening it.Once you were satisfied with the paint job you stood up,brushing off your pants.You still had the blowtorch in your hand,the potential weapon swinging next to your thigh as you walked towards Rafe. “You gotta put the kickstand down,pretty boy.”You reminded him,gesturing to the bike.He nodded. “Right.”He nodded,putting the kickstand down and turning the handlebars so it would lean on the metal rod.One of the tires seemed blown out,a straight hole through the seat and multiple scratches across the metal.He watched as you looked over it.

You pulled at one of your chains. “So are you going to tell me what actually happened?”You asked,crossing your arms over your chest.That caused him to look down at your chest and the bleach stains across the front of your overalls.You snapped your fingers to get his attention back to your eyes.He cleared his throat,looking back up at you. “So how much for the repairs?”He asked.You smirked. “Well...i’d say $150 but you’re an asshole so thats an additional $15 and you’re also ruining my day so that would be another $15.”You twirled one of your chains,looking into his blue eyes.He bit his tongue,glancing between you and his bike. “And whats the fee for you not to tell anyone youre keeping my bike here?”He asked.You ran the tip of your tongue along your teeth with a devil like smile.God,this boy had never been in this kind of situation before.You werent even gonna tell anyone in the first place.You could probably charge him hundreds of dollars for all the things he’s done and he wouldnt be able to do anything about it.You were the best repair woman on the island and anyone else would go straight to his dad.It was 11 in the morning.You had pulled an all nighter for the third time that week and you hadnt eaten yet.Plus,if you sent Rafe to the store he could buy the expensive shit.

 “Theres a store three blocks away.Youre gonna go there and buy everything on the list and youre not gonna question it.”You told him.His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you take a notepad out of your pocket along with a pen,jotting things down.You tore the paper off,folding it and handing it to him.He took it,frowning and confused. “Hurry up.”You told him.He nodded,no words or sounds escaping his lips as he left the garage and made his way down the street.He knew what store you were talking about,the one with the sleeping cat outside.It was awfully quiet as he walked.Most of the time all the exciting things happened at night,not 11 in the morning.Either that or all the pogues were hiding from him,his gelled hair and his ugly ass khakis.He unfolded the piece of paper,reading it.Three large lemons,two large monster energy drinks,a bag of doritos and a pack of gum.It was a strange request but he wasnt supposed to question it.He had kept his head down at the store,grabbing three of the largest lemons he saw,two random monster energy drinks,the doritos and three packs of gum.

He didnt know what kind of gum you liked but you probably had to like one of the three,right?When he got back you were using your blowtorch on a part of the bike you had painted. “Put the bag on the work table and touch nothing.”You spoke loudly,confidently.He found your confidence unbelievably attractive.He never let anyone boss him around like this but ther was just something about you.You held some sort of power over other pogues,he could tell that much by the few boneyard parties he’d gone too.The others were attracted to you,some of them held their breath as you walked by,others just kept their distance.He didnt know where such nice chains had come from.They looked like they had weight,indicating that they were real.He had carefully walked over to your work table,seeing multiple small jars of paint,brushes,metal sheets,files,nails,screws and your cell phone.It was a pretty old model.He set the bag down on an empty spot,watching as a notification came across your phone.Eighteen days sober!Log this milestone.He frowned.Sober from what?

He shook it off,walking back around to where you were with his bike. “I was worried that you’d set my bike on fire or something.”He spoke quietly,trying to make conversation.You glared up at him,eyebrows casting shadows over your irises. “What?Cause im a dirty pogue?”You asked.He shook his head frantically. “Thats not what I meant I-”He began to explain himself but you cut him off. “So because im fixing your bike im different?”You asked.He sighed. “I just meant because of the blowtorch-Im sorry.”He mumbled.You stood up,blowtorch in hand. “Know your place,rich bitch.Your bike will be done by three,save yourself the embarrassment and go home to your mansion.”Your voice was dripping in venom,eyes narrowing.He gulped. “I cant go back home without my bike,my dad will kill me.”He mumbled,looking down at you.You smirked. “Good.”You replied before kneeling down again by the bike,getting back to work. “God,could you stop staring at me?Go sit somewhere or sue a tree or some shit.”You huffed.He almost tripped over his own feet,finding a chair and sitting down.He tapped his food on the ground anxiously. “So um...how long have you been fixing cars?”He asked.

You slammed the blow torch down on the concrete. “Could you shut the fuck up?Please?”You asked.He bit his lip. “I dont like the silence.”He replied. “And I dont like loud noises.”You answered. “What are you sober from?”He asked.You sat there for a moment,eyes locked on the ground.You slowly stood up,walking towards him. “You went on my phone?”You asked.His mouth went dry and he was lost for words. “Rafe.”You snarled.He looked back up at you,beads of sweat collecting at his hairline. “I-the notification-I just saw it and I just-God,im sorry (Y/N).”He sighed,looking away from you.Your hand reached up,gripping his jaw and making him look at you. “Didnt I tell you to shut the fuck up?”You asked.He looked away from you,only looking back when your grip tightened. “Yeah.”He muttered. “And you’re gonna be good and shut that pretty mouth of yours,right?”You asked,squeezing harder on his flesh.He hummed. 

“Good.”You mumbled,taking your hand away and getting back to work.You could feel him staring at you,the way your fingers moved as you grabbed your tools.He understood now.He understood the pogues’ fear and admiration of you.He felt like one of them,caught up in your beauty and the way you carried yourself while simultaneously being slightly afraid of you.You walked past him,grabbing one of the monsters.You grabbed a knife from the table.He watched as you cut open the bottom of the energy drink and shot gunned it,wiping your mouth when you were done.You grabbed a lemon from the bag,cutting an end of it off.You pulled a container of a white powder,opening it and coating the lemon slice in it. “Dont stare at me like that.Its salt,nothing you can snort.”You grumbled,taking the slice out and placing it in your mouth.Your eyes didnt squint and your eyebrows didnt furrow at the taste. “You...you eat lemons in salt?”He asked.You pulled the lemon slice from your teeth,biting the salt coated fruit as it left your mouth. 

“I do.”You replied. “It helps with cravings.”You finished your thought,going to fix the bike seat.Rafe had sat on his phone until one in the afternoon when he heard someone come in. “You havent answered your phone,thought you were dead or something.”A deep voice said.Rafe heard you giggle. “Only on the inside,sunshine.I’m busy with work right now,tell the others ill be around by seven.”He heard the tone of your voice.Friendly,happy and almost excited. “Alright.Did you eat today?”The voice asked. “I had a lemon slice,ive got some doritos so dont worry too much.I’ll see you later.”You had told your friend. “Alright,sounds like a plan.”THe boys voice said before leaving.Rafe watched as you rolled a tire inside,replacing the one he had destroyed.Once you had replaced it you went back to the bag of goodies,cutting open the other monster.You chugged it,sighing as you stared up at the ceiling. “Why do you hate me so much?”Rafe asked suddenly.A smile tugged at your lips.

 “You beat up two of my boys,you come around starting shit and blaming it on us,you think youre just so fucking amazing when youre really just a bitch,you ran over my fucking mailbox,you drink and drive,you gave another one of my boys a fucking concussion and a scar and you wonder why I hate you?”You ranted,fists clenching.He just sat there,hands gripping the arms of the chair. “You just fuck things up.”You sighed.He licked his lips. “You sound like my dad.”He mumbled.You laughed. “Oh dont get me started on your dad.That bitch ruined my life.”You sighed,grabbing another lemon slice.He raised his eyebrows. “What?How?”He asked.You just giggled to yourself. “You really have no idea what your father has done to my family?No idea at all?”You asked.He shook his head.You just laughed again,the sound filling the air.It wasnt like the way you had giggled with your friend.It was empty and sarcastic,hiding anger that was building up inside of you. “You wanna go for a field trip,Rafe Cameron?”You asked.