#this is my last reply unless you say something else funny

[vroomian]

You do realize sex negative doesn't mean what you think it does, right? It's the opposite of sex positve, as in blieving people should have sexual agency for themselves.

Not efeling sexual attraction doesn't mean you have to view sex as disgusting, you are literally identical to misogynistic gay men who call vaginas disgusting. Congrats.

Omg you’re really trying to drag me into the discourse that’s hilarious

My opinion on sex is You can do whatever you want forever. Also it’s gross and silly and seems to turn your brain off <3 (thanks for the example lol)

I know what sex negative means my guy but for someone’s who’s so sex positive you sure seem invested in policing how I think about it 🧐Maybe the real gay misogyny calls are coming from inside the house????

[izvmimi]

cw: implied sex and references thereof but no smut in this fic. fluff. silly terminology. love confession.

If Suo were awake, and if ever you were more honest about your feelings, you'd joke that post-nut clarity came to you, not moments after sex but the morning after, where the crack of your eyelids brought you his sleeping visage before anything else.

And in that moment, you realized you loved him. Not love as in adored or appreciated, but in the way that makes your heart rend at the thought of being apart too long or at his furtive glance being directed away from you to another.

It's not the first time you've slept together, and by God, it won't be the last, but it's the first time you've woken up first, watching him in the perfect peace of slumber, motionless and beautiful, as he lays, facing in your direction. Something about this vulnerability overwhelms you - Suo is never one to be caught off guard, but you can tell that he has no reason to heighten his guard against you, even if you've fought him off emotionally as long as you have.

Perhaps he'd always known there would be this very moment, your hand reaching out towards his face to caress it before you even think of what you're doing. Your fingers graze gently against the curve of his cheek, and he leans into it.

He's not asleep.

"Suo..." you start, then stop, wondering why you're calling his name in the first place.

He hasn't opened his eye yet, but he kisses the palm of your hand, and then shimmies closer, an action that might be too cute for his sweet but somewhat serious presence.

"Morning," he offers in a gentle voice before he's grinning, warming you with his gentle brown gaze. His hand mirrors yours then he lets his nose affectionately tap against your forehead. No kisses yet, not until you've both freshened up.

"Thank you for staying," he says. He always thanks you this way, as if you'd be so foolish as to disappear in the middle of the night.

But you could if you wanted to. Suo knows that anything you give him is fully and totally of your own volition, and stresses that always.

You move closer, and he pulls your leg gently so that it drapes over his hip. Your cheeks warm, and he grins, knowing he's got you flustered already.

It's too early in the morning for this.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks.

You sleep well every night you're with him, you want to admit, but instead you nod.

Moments pass, and then you add something else. "You know, I realized something." 

Interest piqued, Suo raises his eyebrows, his fingers tapping gently at the curve of your thigh.

"What?"

"A little bit of post-nut clarity if you will," you say out loud. He blinks at you for a second, then laughs, as you expected. It's funny to think that at one point you worried about being too vulgar for him, but he's always far less unrefined than you think.

He surprises you constantly.

"I’m glad to hear that. Grace me with your new wisdom, my love," he replies. A laugh coming from you yourself, you smile at him.

"I really, really love you."

It’s practically a grenade you’ve lobbed at him; he pauses, and you can see the ghost of a blush, gone as fast as the wisp of a firefly before he answers in stride.

"I sure hope so, unless this would all be very awkward." He shifts slightly, and the devious fox smile returns, but you press on, not allowing him to let him keep his feelings at the surface.

For someone so sure of himself, he's too often playful and light; you want to let him feel something deep for once, let what lays in murky water rise to the surface, unafraid of what it will reveal. You cup his cheek again, and look at him carefully, making sure it's clear that you mean it from the bottom of your heart, the pit of your belly.

"I love you, Suo. I want this... and I want it again and I want it more, and I think I might want it for as long as I can foresee."

You can hear his breathing stop for a moment.

He expected you to say it - that you loved him, one day - but he never expected to say it first.

Beaming, he rolls over so that he's on top of you, pressing his lips to your forehead.

"I love you too."

Another peck to your eyelids, then he nuzzles into your neck.

"Would you like to see what else post nut clarity can show us?" he asks, using your own terminology. You giggle and slip a pillow in between your faces, with your voice muffled through,

"We have places to be!"

He pulls the pillow off of you and grins. "Fine," he agrees as he stretches out his hand to raise you up out of bed.

But his smile isn't the fox smile anymore; it's his true smile, and his love for you is clear as the blue sky.

[bookyeom]

LESLIE HIII i hope you’re doing okay!! + sorry it’s taken me so long to stop by </3

as a request i wanted to ask abt the prompt “stay there. i’m coming to get you.” from the second prompt list with either minghao or wonwoo if that’s okay!! 🫶🫶

A/N: OKAY SO @wqnwoos I know this was requested forever ago from a prompt game and I'm so sorry it took so long, but I was super inspired yesterday after I saw ur post saying "my heel broke" and I messaged u asking if you were okay because OMG your HEEL broke are you OKAY??? but turns out you meant your shoe broke not your actual heel and, well... here we are. Whatever the heck this is.

Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader Genre: slight crack?, established relationship Rating: PG (only because I think there's a swear?) Word Count: 1.4k Request Prompt: "stay there. i'm coming to get you." Warnings: like one kiss?, I think there's swearing maybe, expensive things being broken if that triggers u, also reader wears heels

You can't believe it.

So many times, you’d gazed longingly at the expensive new shoes you’d splurged on, sitting pretty in their box, wondering when you’d finally pluck up the courage to wear them. You weren’t one for spending big unless it was technology or something you’d use often, but you’d been eyeing these heels for what felt like forever. When your birthday rolled around, you’d finally done it, but then they’d sat in their box for months – until tonight.

You’d only just arrived at the restaurant to meet your friends when you’d taken one wrong step, and the heel on your right shoe had broken completely off. You’d tripped and thankfully been steadied by your friend’s arm, so you’d been left physically unscathed… but you felt the pain elsewhere. In your wallet. How the hell had that happened so quickly?

Your friend managed to fish a pair of flats out from their trunk, so you were grateful for that at least. You tried to laugh and play it off as a joke, as a funny story to remember with your friends in a few years, but truthfully? You were pretty bummed. You’d saved for those shoes for ages. So here you sat, nursing a glass of water as you listened to your friends chat animatedly around you. You were having a good time, you were, but you couldn’t help but wallow in your feelings just a little bit. You really couldn’t believe your luck. 

You felt the buzz of your phone from inside your purse, eyeing it as you took another sip of water, before glancing around the table. Your friend group had a rule not to be on your phones very much when you were together, but you figured you were safe to have a quick peek while your friend recapped her many failed dates over the last month.

Wonwoo ❤️: how’s your evening going?

You felt your heart jump a little at the sight of your boyfriend’s name on your screen. You wondered if that would ever change, but you didn’t think so. You adored him. You’d been told the honeymoon phase would pass, but it had been well over a year and the two of you were still going strong. Wonwoo would object if you ever said it to anyone else, but the two of you were just as lovey-dovey as when you’d first started dating.

Exhibit A: him texting you to ask a very obvious question. You’re pretty well-versed in Wonwoo, and you know what his text actually means: it means that he misses you.

YN: not the best, tbh… I broke my heel 😭

The reply comes not even a minute later.

Wonwoo ❤️: are you okay?? 

YN: I’m so sad 😭

You jump a little when your friend nudges you with their foot, raising their eyebrows pointedly at your phone. You teasingly roll your eyes and oblige, sliding your phone back into your purse and tuning back into your friends’ story. You can’t help but feel a bit better after a couple of texts from Wonwoo, and you aren’t embarrassed about it in the slightest.

Not even a half hour and some entrees later, another friend is in the process of regaling tales about her horrific boss when the door to the restaurant opens, and you spot him. You do a double take as your eyes meet, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and he seems to freeze in place for a second.

You take in the sight of your boyfriend: his glasses are askew, his hair disheveled, and you think he must have thrown on whatever hoodie and sweats combo he could find laying around in a hurry. He hovers by the door as he stares at you, blinking, and your mind begins to race. Why is he here? Is everything okay? Wonwoo is never one to draw attention to himself if he can help it – which just makes this whole thing even more confusing. 

“Hey,” you interrupt quietly, causing all heads to turn towards you. “Wonwoo’s here. Give me a second?” 

Your friends all nod in unison, and you can feel them watching as you stand up and make your way over to the door. As soon as you reach him, your hand is automatically searching for his, gently tugging him through the door and back out into the cold.

“Babe,” you say hastily as soon as you’re around the corner and out of sight. “What’s wrong?” Your hand leaves his so that both of yours can run over his arms, his biceps, his shoulders, giving him a frantic once-over to make sure he’s physically alright. When your hands cup his jaw, he finally moves his hands to cover yours, lowering them down to hold them in between you. 

“You’re not hurt?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you stare back at him. “Huh?”

His eyes wander over your face, brows still furrowed in what you affectionately like to call his Thinking Face, before he moves back to look down at your feet. “You can walk fine?”

You are so confused. “Yes, Wonwoo, what? Babe, did you run here?”

You watch as he tilts his head, still thinking for what feels like forever – and then his lips twitch up at the sides. He suddenly looks embarrassed as his gaze falls from yours, but he’s smiling, a hand leaving one of yours to lift and cover his face. 

You are so confused. 

“I didn’t run here,” he finally answers, his hand falling away from his face, “but I definitely may have gone over the speed limit to get to you faster.” 

“Why?” You ask, incredulous. You still have no idea what’s going on.

“YN," he says, voice laced with amusement. "I texted that I was on my way. You said your heel broke."

You blink once, twice, before it suddenly dawns on you. “Oh my god, Wonwoo –” 

“Yeah.” He's smiling so wide that his eyes are crescent moons, and you're smiling, too – and then he begins to laugh.

You can’t help but join in.

He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel him laughing against you. It’s a quiet laughter, but you’re grateful no one can see the two of you where you stand outside the restaurant, because you’re sure you both look insane. You don’t care, though, because all you can think about is how fast he’d tried to get to you because he thought you were hurt. 

Your heart swells from its place in your chest, so full of affection for the man in front of you that you can feel it all over. You pull back, your hands finding either side of his jaw to pull him in for a quick kiss, and you can tell he’s pleasantly surprised by the way his cheeks tinge pink. Neither of you really have a thing for PDA, but you couldn't help it, not when you felt like you were so full of affection you could burst.

“You are such a loser,” is what you say, but you know he can translate it. I love you is what you mean, and he knows.

“I panicked,” Wonwoo laughs, running a hand through his hair as he laces his fingers with yours. “Sorry about your shoe, though.”

You wave your free hand in the air as he slowly walks you towards the restaurant door again. “I’ll deal with it later.” 

He glances in through the glass when you reach it, giving your hand a squeeze. “How much longer?”

You beam at that, lifting your hand up to gently brush some hair off of his forehead. “Not much, if I can help it. I miss you too much.”

“It’s been like two hours," he says, as though he isn't clinging onto your fingers in his with everything he's got.

“Okay, Mr. I’m-going-to-rush-to-my-girlfriend’s-aid-even-though-she-only-has-a-broken-shoe–”

“Bye,” Wonwoo says abruptly, and you giggle. “Love you,” he murmurs, catching you by surprise, but you don't miss a beat. You simply squeeze his hand, and say the words back.

Later that night when you check your phone, you giggle to yourself as you see the two messages you'd missed from Wonwoo, sent directly after the others at dinner:

Wonwoo ❤️: stay there 

Wonwoo ❤️: I’m coming to get you  

And another, timestamped an hour later, when he was back home and on your couch:

Wonwoo ❤️: I’d do it again :)

A/N: lmao this is like. super not proofread but it was rlly fun to write so if you enjoy please reblog! remember that reblogs help way more than just likes for writers :') TAGLIST: @dejavernon @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky @hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!

[zafirosreverie]

Their reaction to you asking them out (BSD)

a/n: Lovecraft's mentioned in three of these other than his simply because I LOVE him. Sorry not sorry.

Doppo Kunikida:

"T-tell Dazai this joke isn't funny."

You blinked in confusion, before realization hit you. You didn't need Ranpo's mind to know that the blonde in front of you had a soft spot for you, it had been that way since you entered the ADA, and for you it was an immediate crush.

But neither of you had acted on it, keeping your interactions purely professional at first and then simply being friends. The complete opposite of Dazai. After rejecting his proposal of a double suicide with a simple laugh, the brunette decided that you were his friend and that was it, you had nothing to say about it, not that you cared much.

Since you had no ability, you simply worked as a secretary at the agency, but that didn't stop Dazai from dragging you into his chaos. When he wasn't bothering Kunikida, or traumatizing Atsushi, the waste of bandages was stuck to you, trying to coax you into doing something diabolically chaotic, simply because he was bored.

You usually ended up taking most of the blame, since Fukuzawa and Kunikida were softer on you anyway, but at the end of the day, Dazai was a good friend. He had given you the courage you needed to finally confess to Kunikida, after teasing you of course.

Honestly, you believed that if the blonde rejected you it would be because you hardly fit into at least five of his ideals, you didn't expect him to be jealous of his partner.

"It wasn't a joke" you said softly "but we can talk about this at lunch."

Kunikida looked at you surprised, his green eyes shining with distrust but with a hint of hope as well. You smiled at him and quickly walked back to your desk, not caring about the evident blush on your face.

For lunch, he would take you to a restaurant further away from the agency building and you could finally talk. You would show him that you were worth more than the ink in his notebook and even though he didn't think you would last long together, in time he couldn't imagine a life without you.

H.P. Lovecraft:

You sighed internally but tried to keep a kind smile on your face, although you honestly didn't know how much you could fool an ancient god with that. You mentally cursed Mark and John for convincing you this was a good idea, but you cursed yourself more for thinking Lovecraft would actually agree to go on a date.

"Explain to me?" he asked after a minute of just looking at you with those piercing but empty eyes.

"Uh?!" You stammered, jumping a little “D-don't you know what a date is?”

"No, I know that" he replied "I have been here since before humanity, I have seen you develop, break down, and rise again, and although I am never near you unless summoned, I know enough to know how those types of relationships work"

“Oh” you whispered.

You weren't really expecting a philosophy or anthropology lesson, you just wanted a yes or no (preferably the former), but realistically, when, since meeting him, have you been able to have a simple, easy conversation with Lovecraft?

"Then what?-" you started, but he interrupted you, still staring at you.

"Why would you want to form that kind of human bond with someone who...isn't?"

You blinked and, for the first time since you started this awkward conversation, looked at him. His face showed no emotion, as always, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that hadn't been there before, as if he really wanted to understand what was going on in your mind.

For some reason, the minuscule possibility of being a mystery to a man whose mere existence was the biggest mystery of all, made you feel important, like the entire universe was watching only you.

"I don't know" you shrugged "maybe it's your way of treating me a little warmer than you treat others, or maybe it's because my eyes can't see anyone else as soon as you walk into a room… Maybe I'm just crazy, who knows?"

"Why would you want to join your being to an evil eldritch god?"

“I don’t think you’re evil” you refuted.

"Then you don't understand me" he said.

"No, but I've never said I do" you agreed "but…if you really are older than humanity…shouldn't you be immune to the criteria of good or evil?"

Lovecraft looked at you with, what by his standards, must have been a ghost of amazement. He didn't respond, but the gleam in his eyes intensified and it only took you a few moments to register that his normally cold and indifferent aura seemed warmer and… joyful?

"You're not an ordinary human" he finally said "You're not afraid of the dark"

"I never have been" you smiled "Hawthorne says that will condemn my soul to hell…nice guy right?"

"Your soul already belongs to the abyss"

You looked at him curiously and swore the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. You weren't sure if that was a yes or no to a date, but the moment he took your hand, you decided it really didn't matter.

Edgar Allan Poe:

Why? Was it a joke? Were there hidden cameras capturing his humiliation? No, you weren't like that…but you spent a lot of time with Mark, maybe he had convinced you…No, he liked to make fun of Hawthorne, not him. So it didn't make sense, why would you ask him something like that? Why would you want to stain yourself with the same madness, anxiety and loneliness that accompanied him everywhere? Why would you want to subject yourself to such torture? Not even he could beat his own demons, why would you want to see them yourself? Why would you, of all people, ask him out on a date?

Those were the questions that ran a thousand miles an hour through Poe's mind as he looked at you silently, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Karl had long since moved onto your shoulders, sensing the imminent defeat of his owner.

"…Edgar?" You asked softly, worried.

It was a good thing you were in his study, because the moment you touched him, the writer fell back as if he were a statue, making you jump and scream a little before running to his side.

"I think I broke him" you said to Karl, as you fanned the man on the floor.

"I'm fine" Poe grunted, sitting up.

It seemed like the hit was what he needed to get his mind working again. He hadn't really expected your confession, much less for you to ask him out, damn it, he hadn't even hoped that you might like him like he liked you. But there you were, looking really worried about him (and damn cute, but that was another story), and he owed you an answer.

"I-I'm sorry" he stuttered "You took me by surprise"

"I noticed" you laughed softly, awakening butterflies in his stomach "I didn't mean to"

"N-no, it's okay, just…I didn't think you saw me like that"

"Really?" You blinked “I thought it was obvious. Even Lovecraft noticed”

"He did?!"

You nodded. It was true, the entire Guild knew about your feelings for Poe, some had even bet how long it would take him to realize it or if you would have to tell him yourself (you could already hear Margaret complaining about having to pay Nathaniel and John), even the eldritch horror had noticed it and he was asleep 18 of the 24 hours of the day. It seemed like everyone knew except Poe.

"I understand if you don't want to" you said "don't feel obligated to-"

"No!" he interrupted you, making you both jump at his sudden shout "sorry… I do want to, it's just… it's hard for me to think that anyone would want to spend their time with me willingly" he admitted awkwardly.

You looked at him for a moment, not understanding how he could not see how cute, not to mention how incredibly interesting, he was. You smiled at him and held his hand tenderly, waiting for him to make eye contact with you.

"Don't worry" you told him "I do"

Nathaniel Hawthorne:

"I miss her"

Herman looked curiously at Hawthorne for a moment before following the man's line of sight. You were sitting, talking calmly with Steinbeck about the small garden you had decided to start a few days ago, and although the blonde was more than happy to give you tips and advice, it was obvious that your attention was more on the tired sea god at your side. It was no secret to anyone that Lovecraft was one of your favorite beings.

"And why don't you tell her?" the older man turned his attention to the minister next to him.

"Its not that easy"

Melville looked at him a moment longer before looking back at you. He was a wise man, and he has known Nathaniel for years, even before the latter joined the Guild. He knew the man's faith, his ideals and moral compass, he knew that he could be stubborn and immovable in his convictions and that few things mattered more to him than his religion. After Mitchell's failed attempts at a romance with him and his relentless way of ignoring Twain's jokes, it had become clear to everyone that Hawthorne was a man of god, that his devotion was to him, and no one else. Most simply opted to leave him alone when he wasn't needed for some mission and he had been fine with that. Until he met you.

Of all the new Guild members, you were by far Melville's favorite. You were kind, happy, calm, willing to learn and rarely caused problems. You were often the first to offer help to whoever needed it, and although you possessed a dangerous ability, you had complete control over it, so no one was worried about you hurting them. You were practically an angel, and it was obvious that you were quickly earning a place in everyone's hearts. Nowadays it was common to see Poe leaving his room more often thanks to you, or how Louisa laughed more, how Fitzgerald praised you even for the smallest things, and Herman himself loved the peaceful afternoons with you in his office. You were even replacing John as Lovecraft's favorite human. But it was obvious that the person you had most under your spell was Hawthorne.

The usually serious man smiled as soon as he saw you, he talked to you about all kinds of things, often even forgetting his Bible and his talk about sins, he accompanied you everywhere if you asked and was always the first to welcome you when you arrived from a mission, always making sure you were okay. It was a lovely sight, and Herman appreciated your presence in the other man's life. But all that ended a few days ago, when he had broken your heart.

Melville was the only one who knew the story thoroughly, listening to what you were able to tell him between sobs and what Hawthorne himself had confirmed the next day when he confronted him about it. Apparently, he had rejected you without hesitation, and although he tried not to make drama about it, it was obvious that his words hadn't necessarily been soft, but rather dry and direct. You had smiled and accepted the answer, before quickly leaving, but Nathaniel had caught a glimpse of disappointment and sadness in your eyes, which had pierced his chest for some reason.

It took him a terrible sleepless night and a tough talk with Herman to realize that he had made a terrible mistake. He hadn't wanted to realize the true nature of his feelings for you, he hadn't wanted to face what that meant for his faith and ideals, but he gave up when he couldn't get you out of his head for days. At first, he was surprised by your ability to act in front of others as if nothing had happened, but in reality you no longer spoke to him, you no longer smiled at him, nor did you look for him, you had left him alone, and that, like he himself confessed to Melville, felt like the greatest penance for a mortal sin, the sin of having hurt an angel like you.

"I can't face those broken eyes, not again" Nathaniel whispered, not taking his eyes off you.

"You've already lost her" Herman sighed "what else do you have to risk?"

The minister didn't respond, watching as you softly laughed at Lovecraft, who had fallen asleep with his head in your lap. He knew that the other man was right, he had already lost you, there was nothing more he could risk, the only thing he had left was the hope that you would give him a second chance.

Herman Melville:

(shhh lemme be, we love Sea Santa Claus in this house)

"My child" he laughed softly "I'm sure Mark would be happy to date you."

You blinked in confusion, as your cheeks quickly heated up. In the man's defense, you really shouldn't have confessed your feelings to him… like that. Seriously, what did you expect by basically yelling at him that you loved him while you played chess in his office?

"I- I don't like Mark" you simply said "not that way"

"Oh… John's pretty nice too"

“Steinbeck scares me” you shivered

"Really?" Herman raised an eyebrow “You spend a lot of time with him”

Was that… jealousy you heard in his voice? A part of you clung to that thought, despite the very clear surprise, confusion, and rejection in his voice.

"I do it for Lovecraft" you admitted "I like him… Steinbeck gives me nightmares"

Herman looked at you for a moment before sighing and laughing softly. Really, he couldn't understand you, the idea that someone as young as you, with a whole life ahead, could have fallen in love with someone as old as him, was ridiculous. But if he had learned anything in the time he had known you, it was that when you wanted something, there was no human power to change your mind.

And if he was honest with himself, you had truly earned a permanent place in his rusty old heart. You were a happy and confident soul, kind and gentle, something rare in the current Guild. Apart from him and Lovecraft, you were the only one who saw Moby Dick as more than just a ship, you had brought warmth back to his chest, and he would do whatever it took to protect you.

“I guess Poe is out of question” he whispered in amusement, gently taking your hand across the table.

You quickly understood the joke and caught the glint of hope in his eyes, which made your heart race and a huge smile bloom on your face.

"Nope" you said "I already made up my mind"

Herman smiled at you and nodded, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it reverently. It would be awkward to explain this new step in your relationship to others, but it was worth it to see you smile.

"Besides, we all know that Poe belongs to Lovecraft. I'm not going to fight a sea god over him."

Louisa May Alcott:

"M-me? R-really?"

Louisa looked at you with wide eyes as you laughed softly and nodded, repeating your question for the third time, just to make sure she believed it.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

She felt her already red cheeks heat up even more and tried to hide her face in her hands. She was basically a tangled mess of nerves and little squeals.

Listen, she liked you too, ok? Louisa just wasn't someone who thought much about dates and partners and stuff, mostly because she had long ago accepted that no one would notice her that way, but deep down, she had to admit that her heart had always harbored a little bit of hope for romance. She just didn't expect that you, who had become Guild's golden girl thanks to your charisma and power, would be the one to be interested in her.

On one hand, she was afraid that this was doomed to be a failure, that the more you got to know her your interest in her would fade, but the braver little part of her told her that it might be worth it. After all, you had always been kind to her, you tried to include her in everything you could and it was not unusual for you to spend your afternoons reading silently next to her. You made her feel special, like no one had ever made her feel before. She supposed that, in a way, it had been impossible to stop her from falling in love with you.

"I-I…I'd love to!" She responded, a little louder than she would have liked.

But it didn't seem to bother you, you simply smiled wider at her and gently pulled her closer to you to hug her, giving her enough time to get away if she wanted to. Louisa hid her face in your shoulder and as she felt your hand rubbing gentle circles on her back, she was mentally grateful that someone was finally noticing her for who she was, not her power or position in the Guild.

Bram Stoker:

"Why?"

"Because now you have legs and I don't have to carry you on my back all the way?" you joked lightly, feeling a little silly under the vampire's piercing gaze.

Bram just frowned and tilted his head in confusion. You had told him that you would like to go for a "drink" with him, or just "walk around the fair", mundane things, but little lady Aya had told him they were "dates".

It had taken the poor girl a couple of hours to bring him up to date on modern courtship customs, and even longer to convince him that it was fun and romantic. In his time, there was not much room for romance, marriages were arranged according to the political and economic advantages that the union could achieve and that was all. Much easier if he was honest.

But that wasn't what bothered him, it was the fact that apparently you, of all people, could have developed feelings for someone like him. Yes, you had helped him and Aya escape from Fukuchi and had remained loyal to the end, despite your lack of ability, but that was precisely why he couldn't understand your reasons.

A mere mortal who didn't know who they were talking to, he could understand, but you? You knew what he was, you knew the monster you were trying to court. Bram was no fool, and despite his lack of understanding of modern times and customs, he had never been one to deny his feelings (from that to him acting on them was another story, of course), and could easily admit to himself that he had developed a liking for you, especially after the whole vampire apocalypse.

But you? What could you want with one of the ten calamities of humanity? It just didn't make sense, no matter how much he thought about it.

"Uh-…Bram?" you asked softly

"Why?" he asked again

"…because I like you?" you said, giving up on your jokes and opting to be direct.

"Why would you?"

"I don't know" you shrugged "I just do."

"Why me?"

"Why not?"

Sigma:

"You're cruel"

You blinked before frowning in confusion. It wasn't exactly the answer you had been waiting for. When you decided it was time to ask Sigma on a date, you had prepared yourself for a no or a yes, what were you supposed to do with this answer?

"Excuse me?" you murmured

"YOU'RE CRUEL!" he shouted, looking at you with tears in his eyes.

Now you were worried. You tried to approach him, ask him what was wrong, and apologize if you had upset him with your question, but he just walked away abruptly and turned his back on you, furiously wiping the tears from his face.

"Sigma-"

"Why would you?" he whispered "Of all the pranks you could play, why such a cruel one?"

"What?-"

"You know how I feel about you" he continued, completely ignoring your worried look "I'm not even good at hiding it, but I thought you'd at least stop Gogol from using it against me…why would you? Why would you give me hope like this?"

His voice broke on the last sentence, just like your heart. You watched him fall to the ground, covering his face as his shoulders shook from silent sobs and your mind tried to catch up with everything. You couldn't really blame him for thinking this was a joke, after all, you were friends with Nikolai, his main tormentor.

Usually, you tried to stay neutral about the pranks the clown played on the poor boy, mainly because you knew that if you defended him, Nikolai would just make an even more evil prank. But you didn't expect him to actually think you would do something like that to him.

You felt guilty beyond words, and you promised yourself in that moment that you would do everything you could to repair a trust you didn't even know you had lost. It didn't matter if Gogol or Dostoyesvky got upset, you swore you weren't going to let them (or anyone) hurt him again.

"I swear on my life that this is not a joke" you said softly, sitting next to him "I'm so sorry if I ever gave you reason to believe that I would hurt you like this."

Sigma glanced at you, but he didn't respond. You took it as a small victory when you moved his hair back a little to caress his cheek and he didn't move away from it. It took you a while, but in the end, you managed to get him to look at you, still with tears in his eyes, but a glimmer of hope in them.

"I really like you" you said "and I promise I'll do everything I can to make you believe me."

He gasped when you leaned in to place a tender kiss on his cheek, and his entire face heated up as you held him close to your chest. You both knew that it would take you a while to convince him that you weren't really trying to use him, that you were sincere in your feelings, but at least, you were pointing in the right direction.

Nikolai Gogol:

"I knew you couldn't resist my charm"

You rolled your eyes as the clown laughed maniacally in front of you. Honestly, sometimes you questioned why you liked him, and if this had been a good idea. You knew he wouldn't let you live with this, he loved any excuse to boost his ego and tease you, but deep down you knew you wouldn't want him any other way, murder and obvious insanity aside.

"Oh, but darling, you didn't think it would be that easy did you?" he smirked at you and you could feel a shiver running down your spine "oh no, before you date me, you have to prove how much you love me!"

"Oh no" you shuddered "on second thought, let's stay friends."

"No, no, no" he said, grabbing your wrist before you could escape "you can't back out now!"

You looked at him for a moment before sighing and giving up. You knew that there was no human power that could stop him when he planned one of his "games" and that no matter what you did, you had already let the cat out, there was no way he would forget your confession, much less that you could get out of this.

“Okay” you sighed “what do you have on your mind?”

Nikolai simply smiled at you before using his power to transport you somewhere else.

In the end, you ended up spending hours solving puzzles and tests that, if you were honest, weren't even too difficult, at least not by what he was used to, but it was frustrating that every time you finished one, another immediately appeared, it seemed like a never-ending punishment. You assumed he wanted to test your willpower.

However, the reality was that Gogol wasn't even thinking about it, he was simply keeping you busy while he dealt with the sudden rush of complicated emotions, doubts, and fears that washed over him. It wasn't a secret to anyone who was observant (which meant it was only obvious to Fyodor) that the DOA clown had really taken a liking to you, which was why he teased you so much, as an attempt to keep your attention on him.

He never expected you to have feelings for him tho, much less ask him out on a date. A part of him was happy about it, but his mind was yelling at him that he shouldn't accept, that he shouldn't be tied to anyone. His entire life was supposed to have been dedicated to seeking his freedom, he couldn't risk that, not even for you. You really were a danger to him, and for once, he didn't know what to do with it.

Ogai Mori:

tw: manipulation.

"Bold and brave" he smirked "I like that"

Are you okay? Is someone threatening you? To be fair, you really didn't know what you were getting into. You didn't know the true nature of the man in front of you, you simply knew him as the kind doctor you had met by accident on the street and who you sometimes ran into.

It was weird at first, but after the third time "casually" meeting each other, you just decided it was funny and started a friendship with him. Bad idea.

You had no idea of the danger you were in, you didn't know what he was capable of. Developing a crush on the Port mafia boss was probably one of the stupidest things you could do. But he had made you feel safe, appreciated, and it really wasn't long before he had you under his spell.

It wasn't really your fault though. Mori is a brilliant man and a skilled manipulator, he rarely took a step without thinking, and it definitely wasn't a coincidence that he found you. You had a powerful ability, one that would be a huge asset to the mafia or any organization that had you.

It had gone unnoticed for so long because, as you had confessed, you didn't really like using it, but it was only a matter of time before someone else found out, so he had made sure to get to you first.

Honestly, he didn't expect this turn of events. His plan was simple: lure you in with kindness, make you feel safe before showing his true colors and then offer to join the mafia, which was an understatement, he was more than ready to force you to join if you didn't accept of your own free will, he even had planned to use Elise (he knew you had a soft, motherly spot for children) to convince you.

The fact that you were offering yourself on a silver platter only made things easier for him. Besides, he wouldn't say no to other kinds of advantages and a pretty face. (He would never admit that in that time of "knowing you" he had developed a… liking for you)

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | long way home

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over :( but i will be adding small blurbs in between chapters and adding post-chb five star and luke to the masterlist because i'm not ready to say bye to them just yet. enjoy pm's sophomore album cover, optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you). also no tags for this one because tumblr has been super weird and the tags haven't been working for everyone.

x. long way home by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“thank you all for your participation this summer at camp half blood,” mr. d said into the microphone. he was finishing up his end-of-the-year speech and there was no dry eye in the house. all the campers were sniffling as they reminisced on all the memories they made this summer. your dad cleared his throat, “if any of you tell anyone that i cried, i will never forgive you.” 

annabeth giggled, rubbing the tears from her eyes, “your dad makes that joke every year, i swear.” 

“oh, i’m sure,” you replied, laughing along with her. “above all, he is a dad and that means he recycles the same jokes over and over again.” 

“and they’re never funny,” percy added, though he was laughing at what mr. d was saying. “but i feel like i gotta laugh or else i won’t be accepted next year.” 

“you have my permission to not laugh, perce,” you nudged him. “he gotta get some new material.” 

“hey,” clarisse said from beside you. you turned to her, letting annabeth, percy, and grover fall into their own conversation. she was no longer adorned in her camp counselor outfit, opting to wear something from her own closet now that her duties for the summer were finished. “thanks for getting me this job, y/n. kinda changed my life with this one.” 

your eyes darted between clarisse and chris, who was waiting by the wings of the stage ready for his cue to close out the farewell celebration. you placed a hand on clarisse’s knee, giving it a squeeze, “thanks for always having my back, clar.” 

“always,” she nodded, “you’re my sister.” 

you were feeling a lot of things at once. there were a lot of emotions coursing through your veins. you always knew that there were people who cared about you. your parents had a funny way of showing it sometimes, but you never doubted that they loved you. your friends, clarisse, silena, charlie, were always there for you, even during the most stressful times of your life. the poisoned mercury boys who welcomed you with open arms like you were a part of their dysfunctional family the whole time. 

and luke. 

where do you even start with luke? luke castellan was the boy you had promised yourself never to fall for again. the heartbreaker, the player, the musician, and yet, here you were, completely eating your words. everything you thought you knew about him was wrong and since you let your guard down, your world was turned on its axis. he was so much more than what people made him out to be. he was so much more than you expected him to be. 

and you were lucky enough to have him. who knew a summer in montauk would lead to this? 

“to close out our incredible summer, welcome poisoned mercury!” your dad said, clapping wildly as the boys entered the stage. he placed the mic back on the stand, giving short hugs to the band as they walked up to him. luke was the last to hug your dad and their interaction lasted longer than the rest of the boys’. when they pulled away from their embrace, luke had a slight blush on his face and a goofy grin as his eyes scanned the crowd to find you. 

he sent you a shy wave from the stage as he adjusted the mic to his level. you blew him a kiss, which he returned and that made the crowd go wild. to them, luke was blowing a kiss into the ether, a message with no recipient, but you knew it was meant for you. something about it made your heart constrict in your chest. it was still hard to believe he chose you, but luke spent every waking moment making sure you believed it. 

“camp half blood,” luke said, eyes twinkling under the lights. travis picked up his drumsticks from the floor, giving the left one a twirl, as he got situated on his stool. connor and chris played their guitars experimentally, tweaking the strings to get the right key. “man, i don’t even think we can explain just how thankful we are to have spent the summer with you all.” 

luke turned around to face the boys who all nodded in agreement.luke faced the crowd again, sighing, “i learned a lot of things here. one being, there are a lot of talented people out there in the world. getting to work with y’all was such an amazing experience. many of you guys are aspiring musicians, and i’m here to tell you to keep going. i know it seems like sometimes your dreams aren’t worth chasing, but i promise you they are.” 

“some of you kids are so talented,” luke said, shaking his head in disbelief. “little beth, i’m talking about you when i say this. you’re brilliant and i know i’m gonna be seeing your name in the charts in a few years. you got more talent in your pinky finger than we four up here have combined.” 

the rest of the boys laughed, but agreed. luke narrowed his eyes, searching for a few more faces to give a shoutout to, “oh! and our boys percy and grover! we love you guys. keep in touch. you guys have to join us in the studio one day.” 

“did luke castellan just give us a shoutout?” grover asked, turning to percy with his eyes as wide as saucers. 

you laughed, patting him on the back, “i believe he did.” 

“holy shit,” percy mumbled. 

“language.” 

“come on, counselor clarisse,” the blond boy groaned, “camp is over.” 

clarisse huffed, smiling teasingly, “fine. i’ll give you a pass this one time.” 

“not many people know this, but i went to camp half blood when i was younger,” luke continued, looking down at his feet. “it was my favorite place in the world. some of my best memories involved me sitting right where many of you are sitting right now, but then life happened and things went sideways for me for a while. it took me a while to pick up a guitar again, but man, i’m so glad i did.” 

“if it wasn’t for music, i wouldn’t be here in front of you guys today,” he smiled, locking eyes with you, “and i wouldn’t have had the best summer of my life.” 

“holy shit,” clarisse said, mimicking percy. she turned to you with a wide grin, “castellan is talking about you up there.” 

“he is not.” 

as if he read your mind, luke leaned into the mic, “thanks, five star.” 

your heart swelled as memories of this summer flooded your mind; the smoke sessions in your secret spot that soon became luke’s as much as it was yours. hours sitting on the creaky bench as you both got lost in the fog of vices and genuine conversations. the bench where you learned about luke and he learned about you, something more than just introductions and superficial answers; the countless impromptu jam sessions in your cabin that started with you playing records on your speaker and ended with the boys playing their instruments as they screamed out lyrics to their favorite songs with you and clarisse. constant noise complaints from neighboring cabins because you were being too loud so late at night with melodies and laughter escaping through your open window. luke pulling you into his lap as he whispered cheesy love songs into your ear as you giggled; the days in your room, locked away with luke, enjoying his company. his lips always finding their way back to yours like a promise that he’ll always be around. luke. luke luke. 

you were glad the lights were focused on the stage so nobody could see your red cheeks. the boys cheered from behind luke, unabashedly voicing their approval of your relationship. the crowd cheered along, even if none of them knew what the situation was. luke rolled his eyes at his friends for the commotion they started, “the song we’re playing for you today is not yet released, but we decided that it’s the perfect song to end the perfect summer. this song is called long way home, we hope you like it.” 

–

“did you know you had a dimple on your back?” you asked, letting your finger linger in the crevice on luke’s skin. goosebumps raised on his tanned flesh as you lightly grazed his exposed back. “right here.” 

“mhm,” he replied, off-handedly. he didn’t really know what you were saying. he was too dazed by the feeling of your touch on him. you two were on the grass on the hill by the lake, a reprieve, a plead for time to stop even just for a few minutes. tomorrow summer would officially be over. tomorrow the two of you would be leaving camp half blood. tomorrow you would no longer have empty hours to fill with each other. 

luke didn’t want to think about it too much. he’d gotten too used to finding you lounging in your room or in the living room where he could join you to do nothing. to do everything. he didn’t know how he’d survive the next few months without you. your coach gave you the all-clear to resume practice once you were back on campus, which meant that visits during short breaks were no longer an option. luke was happy that things worked out for you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that you could no longer visit him during thanksgiving break. 

droplets of water from your hair trickled down his back. he was face down with his head facing you, eyes fluttered shut as a sign of peace, while you leaned over him, tracing shapes on his back. you’d both just emerged from the water, checking off items on your “summer goodbye bucket list.” that’s what you’ve been up to this last week, revisiting memories and places that you weren’t ready to leave yet. 

you chuckled softly, pressing a light kiss on luke’s spine. he smiled at the feeling of your lips, eyes hazily opening to meet yours. you took your place beside him, propping yourself up on an elbow as you watched luke come back to his senses, “are you even listening to me?” 

“of course,” he lied, grinning at you in the boyish and charming way that always had your knees buckling. he squinted as you moved your head, the heat of the sun hitting his face, “‘m always listening to you, five star.” 

“liar.” 

he laughed then, letting the sound echo into the air, “i try my best, at least. but i’m no multitasker. i can’t concentrate when you’re sitting here all pretty in front of me and touching me like this.” 

“you’re such a flirt,” you grimaced, though the smile on your face gave away your true feelings for the boy. luke looked pretty like this. there was no tension in his shoulders, like he was finally letting himself breathe. you wondered when you’d see him like this again. just last night after the celebration, you two had stayed up talking until deep into the night about how nervous he was to come back to the spotlight. he’d found solace in camp half blood, in not having to look over his shoulder every day in fear of the world. he didn’t know how the public would react to him being back again, especially since he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up his facade now that it’s all crumbled since he met you. 

maybe it was his lack of sleep that was making him vulnerable and a little delirious, but he shared with you that he felt like he’s changed. the luke that walked into camp half blood who was too scared to be himself in fear of rejection and failure was no longer there. a few months ago, he wouldn’t be caught dead like this, all soft and gentle for a girl. he couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to see a girl more than once. but with you, he couldn’t help it. the luke that he truly was became his default state when he was with you. all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and be with you for as long as you’d let him. 

“you say that like it’s a bad thing, baby,” he grumbled, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “you don’t like it when i flirt with you?” 

you rolled your eyes playfully, adjusting your head until you fully blocked the light from his face again. you laced your fingers with his, letting out a hum when he squeezed your hand. “i didn’t say that.” 

“so, let me flirt with you,” luke said. “i like flirting with you. you blush every time i do it and i think it’s fucking adorable.” 

“stop,” you whined knowing that the blush he was referring to was starting to show on your skin. maybe you could blame it on the heat, but you both knew that that would be a lie. it was because of him. it was always because of him. “you like teasing me, don’t you, castellan?” 

“a little bit,” he admitted, scrunching his face up in a way that brought out the creases between his eyebrows. his lips curved into a lopsided smile. his arms reached out to snake around your waist, pulling you on his body as he laid on his back. he placed his hands along the expanse of your bare thighs as you situated yourself on his abdomen. your fingers played with the silver chain around his neck. luke massaged your thighs, sighing out, “i like knowing i have that effect on you.” 

“me and half the female population,” you snorted, “as much as you act like you know just how amazing you are since you have a gigantic ego, i feel like you also don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

luke quirked an eyebrow, “was that a compliment, five star?” 

“don’t get used to it,” you smacked his shoulder lightly, making him let out a chuckle. his chest rumbled from under you as his hands made their way up your waist. luke’s hands were always warm. he had callouses on his fingers from playing guitar and bumps on his palms from lifting at the gym. there were characteristics about his hands that made you believe that you’d know his touch even if you were blindfolded. there was something different in the way he touched you, even in the most innocent ways, you knew when it was luke. there was a light in your brain that would go off every time he was around, like your body, mind, and heart knew when he was there. 

“i’ll take what i can get,” he conceded.

“does it bother you that i don’t compliment you as much as you compliment me?” 

“nah,” he replied, looking up at you. the sun was framing your face in a way that made his breath hitch. you looked ethereal like this. it was like you were a figment of his imagination. luke had to place his hand flat on your ribcage to feel you breathe just to convince himself that you were real. “makes these little moments even sweeter.” 

“but you know, right?” you questioned, eyes not once leaving his own. a shadow of doubt flashed across your irises. “you know what i think of you?” 

luke castellan had a way with words that left you speechless. perhaps it was because he was a songwriter, trained to string together words in a way that you could never achieve. he made a living by writing, by voicing how he felt, and turning it into art, into music. there were many moments where luke would say things so poetically that it made your head spin. he says things so casually, so easily like he didn’t just utter out the most romantic things you’ve ever heard in your life. 

you envied him for it, a little bit. you wished you could tell him how you felt about him as easily as he said it with you, but anything you tried to say felt like it would pale in comparison. luke didn’t mind. you had your own way of showing him how you felt. it was in your touch, taking your time to admire his imperfections. it was in the way you kissed him, smiling so wide like you couldn’t help it whenever he would press his lips to yours. it was in the way you paid attention to him, the little things that he didn’t even realize he did. 

“‘course, i do,” luke tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. he took his time bringing his hand back to your waist. he liked seeing you nuzzle your face into his palm as you kissed his wrist. “but i wouldn’t be opposed to hearing you say it, either.” 

“i’m not good at saying how i feel,” you said, shoulder hunching as you spoke. it felt like you were letting him in on a secret that you’d never told anyone else. luke could feel his heartbeat in his chest. you dropped the poisoned mercury pendant back on his chest as you leaned down to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “i’m working on it, though. might just take me a while.” 

luke smiled at you. his voice was earnest as he placed a kiss on the top of your head, “we got all the time in the world, five star. there’s no rush.” 

you furrowed your eyebrows at his words, “we leave tomorrow, luke.” 

“mhm,” he repeated, thumb running across your lower back. it made you shiver, the realization of his words hitting you. “like i said, we got all the time in the world.” 

you pulled away from him, cradling his face in your hands as you placed a kiss on his lips, “yeah, we do.” 

[anzulvr]

୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) reader || Chapter: 08 ୨୧

 PREV || 08 Klepto || NEXT

Last year, the strangest sequence of events altered [Name’s] life. It was a day like any other, beginning with countless possibilities. An inevitable build-up to the perfect moment, fate, which could have led to anything, led to him.

"Akio! It's good to see you, I'm on an assignment. Could you do me a favor and answer some questions?" [Name] greeted him with a smile.

Akio scoffed in reply he looked the [h/c]-haired girl up and down. "Spare me the trouble and tell me who reported me. My dad invests a ton of money into this school... so this conversation won't get you anywhere."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Don't act clueless, it's annoying just cut to it." Akio yanked [Name’s] bag off her shoulder. "Unless you tell me who sent you, I won't be giving this back."

[Name] felt so out of the loop. Akio hadn't been apprehensive towards her before. "Gakushuu sent me. I only need to collect a student survey." He quickly backtracked in an attempt to cover up his self-incriminating tone "Of course he did... forget this, I don't need Asano getting mad at me for bothering his girlfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend and you don't have to be so hostile towards me, if you don't want to participate it's alright."

"Not your boyfriend?" Akio laughed as if it were the most ridiculous statement he'd heard come out of anyone's mouth. He blocked out anything else she'd said and honed in on that.

"The entire school knows the real reason you're in council."

She felt her heart sink. "Are you trying to insinuate something?"

[Name] shouldn't care, it's only a rumor. Still, it was hard not to when a good amount of the student body targeted her on how she didn't deserve her position. No one else in the Big Six had to take the backlash she did. It wasn't fair. Why did people assume the worst?

This was the first time someone had the guts to say it directly to her. She worked hard for her spot but her success was attributed to some guy going and "handing" it to her.

Just as she was about to wack Akio with the clipboard in her hand, Akio held his breath. A tall red-haired guy wearing a dress-code-violating uniform and a creepy smile was standing right behind him.

[Name] stared at the stranger's face a little longer, oh- that's the guy Asano constantly complains about!

He grabbed Akio's shoulder in an overly friendly manner. "Did you think you'd get away from me?" Karma's voice dripped with confidence, he was confrontational and clearly didn't run away from a fight. A weird guy, his tone was friendly; the same way you'd talk to an old friend. It was comforting in an uncomfortable way, his words didn't match his attitude at all.

The life drained from Akio's face, he went pale and rigid.

"I'm having trouble deciding what to do. I could beat your face in before I take the wallet back, or you can give me everything you have on you, clothes and all. You can keep the underwear."

"You can have it back! I swear I didn't take money out of it!"

"You're funny, I don't just want it back. Not after you made me run around the block ."

Akio dropped everything he had on the floor, Nagisas wallet, [Names] bag, his pants... Karma laughed at the sight of Akio running off like his life depended on it.

It was a cute laugh, a little maniacal considering the circumstances, but cute.

"This is like hitting the lottery... Nagisa had 10 bucks in that old thing- That blockhead carries hundreds!" He was excitedly talking to himself like a child opening an early Christmas gift.

"Karma! There you are! I finally caught up. Huh? Where'd Akio go? God, please don't tell me you actually killed him..."

Nagisa was holding his stomach for support, completely out of breath and a few minutes late. He must've gotten lost while Karma was chasing Akio.

"Even better, check this out!"

He tossed both wallets to Nagisa, Then Karma opened up [Names] bag and started rummaging through it.

[Name] spoke up softly, even though the belongings were hers she felt pretty out of place after watching the whole ordeal go down. She wasn't keen on being next.

"Hi um, that's my stuff."

Karma gave her a suspicious glance out of the corner of his eyes. "Are you trying to rip my steal?"

She shook her head no in rapid motion.

Nagisa gave a panicked expression, "Karma don't be rude! She's in our class, she always brings that bag."

Karma furrowed his eyebrows in response, "Really? I never noticed ya."

He tossed the bag back into [Names] arms, "Heads up." She dropped her clipboard when meaning to catch her bag.

"What's that stack of papers for?" Nagisa asked while picking the board back up.

"It's just a survey I'm having people fill in for the school."

Karma tapped his open palm with his balled-up fist, a lightbulb moment, "Now I remember you! You're the square's girlfriend!" A little late, but at least he had some sort of recollection of [Names] existence.

[Name] was visibly taken aback, he did not just say that.

"Seriously where did that rumor come from? Asano would put a bullet in his head before going out with me."

Nagisa gave an awkward chuckle, clearly, he was only being polite. "Sorry about Karma, we can answer the survey if you still need people."

"You'd do that for me? Thank you! I have like fifty more to collect."

"Anytime, it's no problem!"

It was a really sweet gesture until the mood got spoiled by the delinquent behind him who didn't share the same enthusiasm.

"Do I have to? There are plenty of other people to choose from."

While Nagisa started going through and checking boxes [Name] couldn't help but focus on Karma. In contrast to his perfect hair and face his uniform was completely wrong. He could get into trouble if a teacher notices then it'll become a bigger problem than it has to be.

[Name] took a step closer and began to fix his outfit the best she could. She straightened up his blazer and buttoned up his collared shirt.

He wasn't sure what to do with himself as she lectured him about cleaning up his look. He focused on her hands. "Your shirt's unbuttoned, the blazers on wrong and I have an extra tie in my locker so you can have mine if you want."

He smiled and gave her a weird look, "No thanks I'm not a big fan, ties are suffocating."

He'd gotten told off millions of times by the councilors and teachers over dress code but this was the first time a girl his age nagged him about it. What was her deal? "Sorry if I sound pushy, I'm only looking out for you."

Looking out for him, that's a first.

"Nah it's okay, your shoes are untied by the way."

She looked down to check completely forgetting they didn't have laces. "Hm? But they aren't."

He laughed again, this time not like a sadistic weirdo. "Made you look! Are you always that gullible?"

Back then, [Name] and Karma didn't know they'd eventually become the most important people to one another.

He's always there when she needs it, that's what sets him apart from anyone else. [Name] thinks this makes her over-reliant, and needy. She hopes he won't grow sick of her. In that way they're the perfect pair, behind his poker-faced facade Karma is worrying about the same thing, hopefully, she never gets sick of him.

[supernaturalscribe67]

Destiny

Words: 7,528

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Slight Angst (if you squint), Language, Brotherly Drama/Teasing, Sexual Innuendos

Summary: (Y/N) Winchester never thought he would have to play a prominent role in the fight between Michael and Lucifer, but when Gabriel's attempt at convincing Sam and Dean to accept their destiny fails, (Y/N) is left pondering the situation at hand. What happens when Gabriel reveals the truth behind his disappearance from Heaven and his own role in the fight?

Heavily Inspired by S5.8 "Changing Channels"

Request:

Hey!! I was hoping you would be able to do this request.

It could feature hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff :)

Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

He could be trans or cis, up to you.

There was a younger Winchester brother, and with 3 full blooded Winchesters meant of course, a 3rd vessel. Gabriel's vessle. You both aren't keen on the idea of possession and end up falling for each other? Destiny had brought them together for battle but their hearts yearned for something else.

(something along those lines atleast)

:D

@genekies

A/N: I've sat here for the last ten minutes staring at the Summary because my brain is non-existent right now. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this! Sorry it's so late! I also hope you don't mind that I changed the 'younger' Winchester to a middle Winchester~ I enjoyed writing something cute and fluffy after that heavy story I posted! Feedback is appreciated!

~ Much Love!

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“Son of a bitch.” 

“It’s him. It’s Doctor Sexy.” 

“Nutcracker!”

“I’ve got genital herpes.”

(Y/N) blamed himself for this. Why he thought any hunt he and his brothers did would be normal was beyond him. When was anything the Winchesters did ever normal?

He could count on one hand the number of times he’d encountered tricksters, none of them pleasant. Still, something about this trickster was different. Slight abnormalities in the realm of possibilities, Sam, Dean, and Castiel all agreed, Castiel seeming to know more than them, but unable to voice his thoughts before being whisked away by said ‘trickster’. From there, the Winchester brothers were tossed from TV show to TV show, enduring humiliation and awkward conversation. It wasn’t until Sam was transformed into the Impala that it clicked. 

It wasn’t a trickster. It was an angel. 

That was how they ended up in an abandoned warehouse, the angel stood in the center of a ring of Holy Fire. (Y/N) tried to hide the exhaustion on his face that resulted from their hectic escapades. What he would kill to go back to their motel, crawl under the scratchy covers, and go to sleep. 

“Where’s you get the Holy Oil?” The angel asked, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. 

“Well, I guess you could say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass,” Dean replied, straight-faced. 

Sam clenched his jaw and sent a death glare towards him. (Y/N) snickered, earning him the same glare. He pressed his lips together, mumbled a faint ‘sorry’ under his breath, and turned his attention back towards the wannabe trickster. 

The smirk he had vanished. “Where’d I screw up?” He asked. 

“You didn’t,” Sam shook his head. “Nobody gets a jump on Cas like you did.” 

“It was the way you talked about Armageddon,” Dean explained. 

“Meaning?” The angel furrowed his brows. 

“Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.” 

The angel looked away and lowered his head, a silent confirmation of their suspicions. 

“So, which one are you?” Sam cocked his head to the side. “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?” 

(Y/N) bit the inside of his cheeks, lowering his head to hide the small smile that appeared. Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to admit that Sam’s question was a little funny. He blamed it on him being tired. He was quick to erase the expression off his face before lifting his head. The angel’s gaze shifted over to Sam, and he hesitated for a moment.

“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.” 

“The archangel?” Sam asked. 

“Guilty.” 

“Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster?” Dean questioned. 

Gabriel shifted. “I consider it my own, private Witness Protection. I skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, and carved out my own little corner of the world. Until you three screwed it up,” his tone was full of irritation. 

(Y/N), Sam, and Dean shared a glance, almost as if communicating telepathically with one another - something they had become accustomed to growing up. While they knew significant details about the conflict between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, it seemed, to them, that the situation ran a lot deeper than it originally appeared. 

“So, boys, now what?” Gabriel’s voice broke them out of their trance. “Are we just going to stare at each other for the rest of eternity?” 

Dean licked his lips. ‘Well, first of all, you’re going to bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.” 

“Oh, am I?”

“Yeah, or we’re going to dunk you in some Holy Oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.” 

Gabriel clenched his jaw, looking over at Sam, then at (Y/N). All of them shared the same serious expression. Poking his tongue into his cheek, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Shuffling could be heard behind the trio as they turned their heads to see a disheveled Castiel. His hair was more ruffled than usual, and a small cut ran across the bridge of his nose. Blood was splattered on the collar of his trenchcoat. He stumbled slightly. 

“Cas, you okay?” (Y/N) asked. 

“I’m fine,” Castiel replied, his icy gaze locked on Gabriel. “Hello, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel lowered his hand, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled tightly. “Hey, bro. How’s the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful,” Gabriel’s tone was harsh. 

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious that there was more going on in Heaven than the Winchesters were led to believe. Multiple sides mean multiple stories. Who knows what really happened? 

“Alright, let’s get out of here. Sam, (Y/N)?” Dean slowly started to step towards the exit. 

Sam was the first to move, while (Y/N) seemed hesitant. In the end, he, too, turned his back on Gabriel and made his way towards his brothers. Castiel soon followed. 

“No,” Gabriel muttered. “Okay…hey, guys, so…” he stumbled over his words. “So what, huh? You’re just, you’re just gonna leave me here forever?” 

When the group reached the door, they all turned back to him. 

“No,” Dean began. “We’re not, because we don’t screw with people the way you do. And, for the record, this isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.” 

Gabriel opened his mouth, as if to object, but stopped himself. He lowered his head in shame, turning his back to them. Wordlessly, Dean looked back, spotting a fire alarm on the wall. He easily broke the glass surrounding the alarm and pulled the handle. A shrill, faded sound echoed within the broken building. As Gabriel looked up, the aged sprinkler system burst open, showering him with cold water. Gabriel gazed at them, his face filled with defeat. 

“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” Dean called out over the sound of the alarm. 

With that, Sam, Dean, and Castiel turned their backs one last time on Gabriel, walking out of the building. (Y/N), however, stayed put, his eyes locked onto Gabriel’s. He studied the look of hurt on his face, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt. A part of him wanted to say something, to turn around and provide him with some type of comfort. They didn’t know what Gabriel was going through, nor what had caused him to leave Heaven in the first place. Perhaps, all he needed was someone to be there. To allow him to be heard. (Y/N) could relate to that feeling. Alas, as the ring of Holy Fire began to dissipate, over the blaring sound of the alarm, he could hear the faint shout of his older brother calling out his name. (Y/N) looked at the warehouse door, the breeze from the early morning shifting his wetting hair, then back to Gabriel. For a moment, he cast an apologetic look his way before he, swiftly, left the building. 

*~*

A couple of weeks after the incident with Gabriel, (Y/N) couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts at bay. Although his brothers had all since left the interaction behind them, refocusing their attention on their odd hunting jobs, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the reminder of the expression on Gabriel’s face. He had taken the time to carefully consider what Gabriel had been going through, or what he had been through before he had left Heaven. Sure, he wasn’t aware of the extent of it all, but he could sure sympathize with how it felt to be stuck between his brothers during their spats. Sam and Dean never threatened the sanctity of Heaven over their problems, but still. 

(Y/N) had taken many walks since then, because sleep had been so easily unobtainable. On nights when Sam and Dean slept soundly on their motel room beds - or couch, depending on who lost in the coin toss - (Y/N) would slink out of the room into the night. Alternatively, in the morning, if sleep didn’t come after the first walk, he would go on another, ultimately stopping for breakfast on his way back to the motel to appease his brothers. 

Sam and Dean were none the wiser. 

On those walks, his mind would always shift to Gabriel and the predicament he was in. In a way, he disagreed with what Dean had said to Gabriel. But, with everything that was said by Gabriel, himself, he partially agreed with it as well. Why was Gabriel so adamant about Sam and Dean allowing Lucifer and Michael to take possession of them for a fight that he wasn’t even willing to fight himself? He felt so in the dark about the whole debacle. Although he wasn’t directly involved in it, he was still interested to know what the fate of his brothers could be. It was thoughts and questions like those that kept his mind racing in the early hours of the morning, making him unable to get an adequate amount of sleep. 

That night was no different. The three of them had traveled to a town along the East Coast, following the clues of a possible Wendigo. The case had just started, and the interviews and clues left much to be desired. They weren’t even close to pinpointing the approximate area in the nearby woodland where it could reside. Sam and Dean were running thin, and (Y/N) was no help. Not with the way his mind had been racing lately. It wasn’t like he could help it, though. He tried, he did, and a part of him couldn’t see how Sam and Dean were able to concentrate whilst everything was going on in Heaven. He had always envied them for their sense of focus, something he lacked greatly at times. When he started the walks, clearing his mind was his initial goal, but going out on his own, in the dead of night, only seemed to make his thoughts louder. 

The town was small, and barely had much of a park, just some cheap playground equipment that looked as if it needed to be updated and a small trail. (Y/N) was thankful for the benches that were laid along the path. Despite the park’s size, it had a beautiful view; a full panoramic of the deep, dark ocean past craggy cliffs, cut off by a steel fence. The ocean was loud and, despite the distance from the land to the sea, mist sprayed (Y/N)’s face faintly, painting his features with minuscule water droplets. He had worn a jacket that night. Even though it was surprisingly hot during the day, as soon as the sun dropped, the temperatures did as well. 

(Y/N) had been sat on the bench for close to an hour. If he had to guess, it was nearly midnight. Not once had he been able to keep Gabriel out of his mind. Gabriel, the fight, Sam, and Dean, all took turns at the forefront of his brain, but Gabriel won most of the time. He always drifted to the sad, kicked puppy-dog look he had before he left. He couldn’t imagine what Gabriel had to go through. (Y/N) thought Sam and Dean were impossible to be with all the time, but he couldn’t fathom being near Michael and Lucifer as much as Gabriel must have. He must have been quite burnt out. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice jerked (Y/N) from his train of thought. 

(Y/N) jumped, eyes wide as he looked towards the direction of the voice. Stood, about a foot away from the bench, was Gabriel. His expression was soft, his brown hair partially damp, the locks illuminated slightly by the nearby street lamp. Once his heart rate began to return to normal, (Y/N) nodded and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. 

“Sure,” he mumbled. 

With a short nod, Gabriel shuffled over and sat down, leaning against the back of the bench. His legs were slightly spread and his hands were clasped together in his lap. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, listening to the sound of the crashing waves from below. Even though Gabriel had done so much to the Winchesters as a part of his trickster ‘Witness Protection’, (Y/N) didn’t feel any resentment towards him, nor did he feel agitation, even with his proximity. A part of him thought he should be, that was how Dean would react, at least. Shouldn’t he be at least a little bit pissed? Perhaps it was the weeks of thinking, working the idea into his head that he and Gabriel could, potentially, have more in common than he originally thought. It could be that he was more forgiving than his brother. In the end, (Y/N) chalked it up to him being a great judge of character. 

“How did you find me?” (Y/N) broke the silence. 

“What?” Gabriel asked. 

“How did you find me? These symbols, or whatever, Cas put on my ribs were supposed to stop angels from being able to find me. Or did he just tattoo my ribs for nothing?” 

Gabriel let out a faint chuckle and shook his head. “I admit, you were hard to find. All I did, though, was follow the sound of your prayers. They were quieter than most, but they were still noticeable.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel, confused. “Prayers? I didn’t pray to you.” 

“I guess not technically. I know that wasn’t your intention half the time, but, every time you thought of me, asked those questions, made those statements, it was as if you did.” 

(Y/N) pursed his lips and gave a faint nod. “I see…”

They were, once again, engulfed in silence as they stared out onto the water. No one said anything. Surprisingly, it was peaceful.

“I guess I should be asking why you found me. Why are you here, Gabriel?” (Y/N) asked. 

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, fumbling with his fingers. “Look, I’m not good at this sort of thing, but…” he trailed. “I thought I should come here and apologize. For everything.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel as he placed his hands into his jacket pockets and leaned back against the bench. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Sam and Dean, too?” 

Gabriel snorted. “Are you kidding? Those two would probably stab me before I even had the chance to say anything.” 

(Y/N) smirked. “I guess you’re right. The fact that you were practically hounding them to accept being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels doesn’t help your case either.” 

“Yeah, I realized that I probably went about it the wrong way.” 

“Probably?” 

“Okay, I definitely went about it the wrong way.” 

“That’s putting it lightly.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Why the fight, Gabriel? I mean, why now?” 

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Michael and Luci have been going at it for centuries. Even before this fight, they were at each other’s throats half the time.” he began to rub his fingers together. “But, this fight…it wasn’t originally supposed to only be those two.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Gabriel stuttered before he stood up. Slowly, he began to pace back and forth in front of (Y/N), looking between the ground and his hands. “You know what it’s like, right? Your brothers are arguing about the dumbest things and they’ve been going at it for a while, getting a little carried away, so you have to step in and, um,” 

“Be the mediator?” 

“Yeah! You have to try and calm them down so they don’t kill each other?” 

“Well, yeah, I’ve had to do that plenty of times with Sam and Dean.” 

“Right. Back then, I had to do the same thing with Michael and Luci. Sometimes it worked, and other times, not so much. With this fight, that’s what I was supposed to do.” 

“Wait, this fight that they want to use Sam and Dean for? How’re you supposed to mediate that?” 

“I was just supposed to make sure they didn’t actually kill each other. Try to get them to talk it out. I’ve always been good at that, so it would only make sense that I would take a crack at it this go around. However, since they would be at their full power in their vessels, the last thing that needed to happen was for them to turn on me, kill me, and then each other. So, to make sure I had enough power, I, also, have to have a vessel.” 

Gabriel stopped pacing in front of him and finally faced him, his hands together in front of him. (Y/N) stared at him intently, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was as if Gabriel could see the gears working in his mind. If Michael needed a vessel, which was Dean, and Lucifer needed a vessel, which was Sam, then, that meant…

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Am I your vessel?” He breathed. 

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Gabriel smirked, although it wasn’t as confident as the one he had when he was covered by his trickster persona. 

(Y/N)’s mouth sat agape. He was gobsmacked. His lips moved up and down as he tried to form words, but his mind nor mouth would work. It all made sense, though. Why would Sam and Dean be the only vessels? Why had he never considered that he, too, was destined to be one? It was clear as glass, yet, the thought never crossed his mind. 

“You know, when you think about it, it kind of makes sense that you’re my vessel. I mean, you’re the mediator, I’m the mediator. You’re the middle child, I’m practically the middle child. There are, actually, a lot of similarities between you and me. So, it was a great pick,” Gabriel rambled, placing his hands on his hips.

(Y/N) help his hand up. “Gabriel, just…stop.” 

Gabriel looked down and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he pursed his lips. 

(Y/N) sat there and attempted to wrap his head around the whole situation. His thoughts were foggy and the front of his head was starting to pound. He reached his hands up and began to massage his temples. 

“So, what you’re saying,” (Y/N) let out a breathy chuckle. “Is that you, the archangel Gabriel, are supposed to use me as a mediator for your two power-hungry brothers who, may I remind you, are also archangels?” 

Slowly, Gabriel nodded. “Basically.” 

“And you think this is a good idea?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“What?” 

Gabriel sighed. “Look,” He returned to his spot on the bench next to (Y/N), his body now facing him. “The times when my mediation did work was when they had their smaller fights. Little bickers here and there. When Michael and Luci are really, really mad at each other, nothing can get between them. So, most likely, what would happen is I would need to get involved in the fight to stop them.” 

“Oh, God,” (Y/N) grumbled and placed his face into his hands.

“But, believe me, that is the last thing I want to do. I mean, Michael and Luci, they’re both strong on their own, but, if they were to team up against me for trying to stop them, even with you as my vessel, I don’t stand a chance. It would be two against one.” 

(Y/N) just nodded, running his hands down his face, his gaze returning to the cool, pounding waves. A chill ran down his spine. He hadn’t realized how cold he had gotten, what with the mix of wind and misty air.

“Why are you telling me this now?” He asked quietly. “Why wasn’t I told any of this before?” 

“Well, when I went off the grid, everyone just assumed that it was my way of backing out of the fight. In a way, I guess they were right.” 

“And back at the warehouse? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I still had no intention of joining the fight. However, after what Dean had said to me…” Gabriel shook his head. “I realized that he was right. I am a coward. I tried to push your brothers into accepting their roles as vessels because I want this fight to be done and over with. I just wish the fight didn’t have to happen. I figured it would be wrong if I didn’t tell you now. You deserve to know.” 

“Well, I appreciate that. And, for the record, I don’t want this fight to happen either. The last thing I want is my brothers to get involved in something that has nothing to do with them.”

“The fight’s gonna happen one way or another, and I thought getting your brothers to go along would be the best way to go about it. Once I listened to your prayers, though, I realized how it would affect you. I know you wouldn’t want to lose either one of your brothers, even though they can be assholes sometimes.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “Like you’re one to talk.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, unlike your brothers, mine can be caring and nice when they want to be.” 

“Believe it or not, Michael and Luci both have the capability of being nice! I witnessed it firsthand.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“It’s not! Granted, they were a whole lot nicer when they were fledglings, kind of got a little rocky as they got older, but they could still be nice!” 

“Wait, wait, wait, fledglings?” 

“Yeah.”

“What’re fledglings?” 

“Newborn angels.”

“So…baby angels?” 

“In a sense,” Gabriel shrugged. A mischievous smirk then appeared at the corner of his lips. “Do you want to hear some embarrassing stories about when Michael and Luci were younger?” 

“Of course I do,” (Y/N) sat back, turning his body to face Gabriel as well. 

“Okay, but, in return, you have to tell me some embarrassing stories about your brothers.”

(Y/N) bit his lip as he contemplated the offer. Finally, he smirked. “Deal.” 

For the next while, Gabriel and (Y/N) went back and forth, sharing their embarrassing stories from their abnormal families. They joked, laughed, and, overall, had a good time. Not only did it lighten the mood from the bombshell Gabriel had dropped, but it allowed them to grasp a basic understanding of their past and present lives. 

There were a few things (Y/N) learned throughout their conversation. One; Gabriel and his brothers shared some scary similarities with the Winchesters in regards to mannerisms and attitudes. Two; Gabriel could talk for a millenia if he was given the opportunity. And three; (Y/N) felt oddly calm around Gabriel. It hadn’t even struck him how easily Gabriel was able to shift the conversation as smoothly as he did. (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how he could feel that way around him. As they sat there and talked, after everything that was said, and after everything that happened with the warehouse incident - he’ll never forget the nutcracker - he couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of comfort around him. There was something about Gabriel that filled (Y/N) with a sense of peace and belonging, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it as to why that was. 

It wasn’t like he was complaining, though. 

They talked until the moon sat near the far end of the sky. Unbeknownst to them, the two had begun to scoot closer to one another as the conversation continued, getting to the point where their knees and shoulders were touching. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Neither of them pulled away out of instinct. It felt right. It felt natural. 

Gabriel droned on and on about, yet, another story when Lucifer was a young angel. He seemed to have more stories about him than he did of Michael. (Y/N) was quite the opposite. He had more stories about Dean than he did with Sam. Both of them laughed as Gabriel tried his best to continue. 

“So - so Dad got angry because Lucifer kept letting the bugs out of their sanctuary, and -” Gabriel looked over at (Y/N), and his smile vanished. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him, noticing the change of demeanor instantly. His smile, too, disappeared. “Is something wrong?” 

As he kept his eye on him, Gabriel reached up and gently brushed his thumb against (Y/N)’s bottom lip. (Y/N) felt his cheeks heat up and his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Your lips are blue,” Gabriel stated. He glanced up at the sky and his brows shot up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize we had been out here so long.” Gabriel sat up. 

“How long how we been out here?” (Y/N) dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. 

3:27 AM

“Oh shit,” he mumbled as he quickly stood up. 

His legs and ass were completely numb, causing him to sway at the rapid movement. Gabriel was by his side in an instant, hands on his shoulders to steady him. They had been out together for, close to, four hours. No wonder (Y/N)’s lips were blue. He shivered, teeth chattering lightly. Once (Y/N) was able to stand on his own, Gabriel took off his jacket and draped it over (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N) shook his head. 

“Oh, no, Gabriel, it’s okay. I just need to get back to the motel.” He stuttered tiredly. 

“I’m the reason you were out here for so long. Consider it a, um, token of my appreciation for talking to me,” Gabriel smiled sweetly.

(Y/N) returned the smile. “Well, thank you for keeping me company.” 

“Let me take you back to the motel.” 

“No. If Sam and Dean see you, they’ll kill you and then me.”

“Then I won’t let them see me.”

Without another word, Gabriel reached up and pressed his index and middle fingers against (Y/N)’s forehead. (Y/N) inhaled shakily and closed his eyes. One second, he was standing in the park, then, the next, he and Gabriel were standing in front of the Winchester’s motel room. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the faded numbers etched onto the door. 

“Thank you,” he smiled and retrieved the key from his pocket. 

“Anytime. And, uh, if you ever feel the need to talk again under better weather conditions, feel free to pray. When the prayers are sent directly to me, it’s a lot easier for me to hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Now go warm up.”

(Y/N) flashed Gabriel one last smile as he turned the key to the room and opened the door. Gabriel vanished. 

Moonlight pooled in through the cracked door as (Y/N) crept into the room. He felt the warmth flood his face and hands as he entered. Despite the heavy jacket he had gone out with, having spent hours in the windy, misty park, he was bound to get cold eventually. He didn’t think he would get that cold, though.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Sam sleeping soundly on his stomach, face nuzzled against the cheap pillow, and Dean sprawled out on the couch, legs and arms spread in uncomfortable positions that he would undoubtedly complain about the next day, mouth slightly open, and drool coating his chin and pillow. (Y/N) was thankful for his stealth ability.

Slowly, he made his way over to the unoccupied bed and crawled underneath the covers. Not bothering to change his clothes or take off his shoes, he nestled into the thick - yet somehow extremely thin - comforter. His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

*~*

That was the best night’s sleep he had gotten in ages. 

Well, it would have been, had he not been awoken by a flying pillow to the face.

(Y/N) groaned as he opened his eyes ever so slightly. The sunlight beamed in through the window, caressing his skin, and he hated it. He glanced tiredly in the direction that the pillow came from and found Dean with an amused grin spread across his lips.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean greeted.

“Fuck off,” (Y/N) grunted as he grabbed the pillow and chucked it lazily back at him. He missed terribly. 

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Sam teased as he sat a cup of steaming coffee on the nightstand next to (Y/N).

“Thanks,” he mumbled and sat up. “And I just got a pillow thrown at my face, am I supposed to jump for joy and sing Kumbaya?” 

“Are you sure it’s the pillow and has nothing to do with you getting back so late?” Dean quirked a brow.

(Y/N) went to reach for the coffee cup, but stopped himself. He glanced at Dean, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?” 

“Well, one, you’re wearing the exact same thing you were wearing yesterday, plus you wore your shoes to bed. Two, I heard you getting back last night,”

“Bullshit. You were passed out.”

“Do you realize how loud you stumbled in? I’m surprised Sammy didn’t wake up because of it. My third point, though,” Dean pointed down to his brother’s chest. “That’s not your jacket. So…did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) looked down at himself and his brows raised. He was still wearing Gabriel’s jacket. He had been so tired and cold last night that he had completely forgotten to take it off or even give it back. He reached up and played with the collar gently. He had to remember to thank Gabriel for giving it to him.

Oh, wait, prayers! Thank you for the jacket, Gabriel!

“Well?” Dean pressed.

“Huh?” (Y/N) looked over at him. 

“Did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) snorted. “If I got lucky, do you think I would be here right now?”

“Not unless it was bad.”

“Would that mean I still got ‘lucky’ if it was bad? What kind of luck is that?” 

“You’re dodging the question.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “No, Dean, I didn’t get lucky.”

“Then who’d you meet?” Sam asked.

“Why does it matter?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Because you’re smiling,” Dean pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. “And you don’t smile like that normally. It’s kind of freaky.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dean,”

(Y/N) hadn’t even realized he had been smiling, but he could hear it in his voice. Dean was right, it had been ages since he had smiled like that. His cheeks were starting to hurt. He reached over, took a sip of his coffee, then put it down. He stood up from his spot on the bed and stretched his aching muscles.

“So,” Dean pursed his lips. “Who was it?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you, Dean?”

“Nope,” Dean popped.

(Y/N) shook his head. “It was just this guy that I met at the bar. He bought me a drink, we sat and talked and, when the bar closed, we went to the nearest park and continued our talk.”

Dean’s smirk faltered and was replaced with a frown. “That’s it? You just…talked?” 

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged.

“You’re more boring than Sam,”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“What do you want me to say, Dean? ‘I found this guy at the bar, we went to the park, I gave him head, he gave me a twenty, said ‘no homo’, and walked away’?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Well, that would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining than ‘we just talked’.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Whatever,” he mumbled, then kicked his shoes off.

Sam took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. We’re gonna go look for that Wendigo.”

“I’m taking a shower before we go, so…” (Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam.

Sam smirked and shook his head as (Y/N) gathered some of his clothes from his duffel bag. Without another word, he vanished into the bathroom.

*~*

(Y/N) was sick for a week after that. As it turns out, cold air and wet hair don’t necessarily mix well. At first, he tried to push through it, but fatigue and a sore throat caught up to him and left him on research duty for the duration of the Wendigo hunt. During that time, whenever Sam and Dean were out looking for clues, leaving him alone in the stuffy motel room, he would pray to Gabriel. Gabriel would be quick to respond.

The two would sit and talk for hours, idle chit-chat here and there, and would always seem to dance around the topic of the fight one way or another. Those talks continued well after (Y/N) felt better and the Wendigo hunt concluded. (Y/N) resumed his nightly walks, and Gabriel would accompany him. In the mornings, when Sam and Dean would occasionally catch onto (Y/N)’s disappearing acts, he would play it off as a spontaneous trip to the local bar scene, fabricating stories about meeting a dreamy man he would talk to or go back to his place. It wasn’t a complete lie, so he didn’t feel as bad when he told them. 

As the months went on, (Y/N) could feel himself growing fonder of Gabriel. It was a strong feeling. Is that what love felt like? He could only assume. Yet, the feeling was more than that. He felt connected to him in a much stronger sense of the word. A spiritual sense, perhaps? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of those feelings, but the last thing he was going to do was fight himself on them, despite how obvious it was that his brothers would disapprove of his relationship with Gabriel. That’s what secrets were for. He had gone long enough without telling them, what’s a couple more months or years?

Whenever they were together, (Y/N) felt whole, as if a lost piece of a puzzle he didn’t even know he had found its way to him. When he was with his brothers, or by himself, he found his mind constantly shifting to thoughts of Gabriel. Of what they would talk about, of Gabriel’s smile, of the way his stomach would turn whenever they stood or sat close to one another. He would crave his presence, desperate to hear the sound of his voice. It was killing him, slowly, from the inside out, and he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he would combust. He had to tell Gabriel his feelings.

One thing he loved about small towns was the lack of artificial lights. Sure, there were dull street lamps scattered around that looked as if they needed to be changed years ago, but the absence of skyscrapers and people, overall, meant not much was needed to illuminate the roads. Locals knew them like the back of their hand anyway. With the minimal light, almost anywhere in town, you could see the stars that decorated the night sky. If you wanted, you could pick out each constellation. Orion’s Belt and the Big Dipper were rather prominent that night.

There were several smaller parks in town, but the biggest sat in the middle of downtown. It wasn’t used as a children’s area as much as a casual gathering ground. (Y/N) could imagine dogs in the grass and elderly couples walking arm-in-arm during the daylight hours. By night, it was abandoned, the distant sound of country music playing from the only local bar. It was the perfect place for him and Gabriel to meet.

They sat on a bench in the middle of the park, heads tilted back as they stared at the stars. Their sides and legs were pressed together, and, for the first time in a while, they said nothing. Normally, their meetings were filled with lively conversation from the moment they saw each other to the moment they parted. (Y/N) had to wonder if Gabriel could tell that he wanted to have a serious discussion. Perhaps he had a lot on his mind. Or, perhaps, Gabriel was too busy reading (Y/N)’s to say anything. Regardless, they had been sat there for close to half an hour without as much as a single word to each other. (Y/N) knew just sitting there wasn’t going to do any good. He had to bite the bullet and say something. 

“Gabriel?” He started, his voice coming out small and quiet.

Gabriel hummed. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Well, first of all, I just wanted to say that I like spending time with you.” He began to fiddle with his fingers. “And I don’t want what I’m about to ask to make our meetings stop.”

“Honestly, I think, at this point, the only thing that you can ask to make our meetings stop is ‘Hey, can our meetings stop?’.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. “Gabe, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he smirked.

“Well, um…” he paused. “Do you ever feel like we’re connected in other ways?”

Gabriel furrowed his brows. He turned his body to face (Y/N), rested his elbow on the back of the bench, and placed his cheek into his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I mean, it feels like…more.”

Gabriel studied (Y/N)’s face, noticing his lack of eye contact. He stayed quiet for a moment, and (Y/N) could feel the anxiety building inside of him. He knew he did a piss poor job at explaining what he meant, but it was the best he could come up with. Slowly, Gabriel smirked.

“You have a crush on me, don’t you?” He teased.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and the heat rose to his cheeks. He glanced over at Gabriel, then back down at his lap. 

“I, well…I’m not…I- that’s not the point, okay!?” (Y/N) shook his head. “The point is that it doesn’t feel like just a crush to me. It feels like an even deeper connection than that. Like something about our souls and- nevermind, this just sounds stupid,” his shoulders deflated in defeat.

Gabriel waved his hands and shook his head. “Hey, hey, it’s not stupid, alright? I get what you’re saying. You feel as if we’re connected by something other than you just being my vessel.”

(Y/N) nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I feel it, too.”

“You do?”

“I mean, yeah,” Gabriel folded his hands in his lap. “I felt that when we first saw each other, even before the warehouse. Then, everything with your brothers happened, and we met again, and, still,  I felt that connection.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I was looking too hard into it. I started thinking that, maybe, the connection was all in my head. That it was, truly, just our connection by you being my vessel. When Dean said what he did about me being too afraid to face my family, I thought no one would understand my point of view on the fight. What I’ve had to go through being related to Michael and Lucifer. Then, you started to pray to me, and I knew that you understood me. That’s what made me come find you in the first place. Once we were alone, I felt this sense of…peace. I hate to admit it, but I feel like I can barely go a single day without wanting to see you. Without needing to see you. I knew it was more at that point.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were on Gabriel as he listened intently to what he was saying. He shook his head. “I feel the same way. It’s almost as if, I don’t know, I can’t breathe when you’re not around.”

“Well, please don’t stop on my account.”

“Stop it, we’re having a serious moment,” (Y/N) slapped his arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gabriel smirked. “I mean, as cliche as it sounds, it feels, almost as if we were meant for each other, right? Like we were meant to be together? Almost as if it was more than you being my vessel that bought us together.”

Gabriel reached over and grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, rubbing the side of it gently with his thumb. (Y/N) looked into Gabriel’s eyes, and he felt his heart soar. He reached up and caressed his cheek before they both leaned in, their lips fitting together perfectly in a sweet, loving kiss. Their eyes closed, and they both melted into a deep, sensual embrace. Almost immediately, all of the stress and worry seemingly melted away, replaced with a sense of belonging. A sense of closeness.

When they pulled back, they looked into each other’s eyes once more. A small smile creased the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“You’re right, it is pretty cheesy.” He whispered, his thumb tracing circles around Gabriel’s cheekbone.

Gabriel cocked a brow. “I thought we were having a serious conversation. Why do you get to make quips?”

“It’s kind of hard not to when I’m around you.” (Y/N) pressed his forehead against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel chuckled. “I guess I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I?” He moved his hands to (Y/N)’s hips.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing.”

They sat together and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of their embrace. (Y/N) never felt more relaxed in his entire life, and he wanted to savor every moment he had with Gabriel.

Then, his mind started to drift. Drift to the fight, the battle between Michael and Lucifer, and to Sam and Dean. Gabriel had done such a good job at keeping him distracted from all the chaos that surrounded him that he hadn’t even had a chance to consider what could happen with the fight now that he and Gabriel were involved. Neither of them wanted to participate in the fight, but what would happen if they didn’t? Who would win? Would he lose one, or possibly both, of his brothers? If they did get involved in the fight, was there a possibility that he and Gabriel would lose each other? Did they even stand a chance to win against Michael and Lucifer if things were to turn ugly? Was there a chance that he could lose Gabriel even without being in the fight itself?

Gabriel reached a hand up and ran his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair soothingly. He pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips. “Your thoughts are being really loud, Sugarplum.” He whispered. 

(Y/N) broke from his trance and shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…with the fight,” (Y/N) looked away briefly. “I don’t want to lose Sam and Dean, but now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you either.”

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic look as he pulled him close. “I know. This whole thing is one giant mess. I wish none of it had to happen. But I’m going to be with you every step of the way, I promise.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “You can’t promise me that. Knock on wood.”

“What?” Gabriel chuckled.

“I don’t want you to have just jinxed yourself, now knock on wood.”

Gabriel smirked as he rasped his knuckles against the wooden bench three times. “Better?”

“A little,” (Y/N) mumbled and nuzzled his cheek against Gabriel’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll feel better until this fight is over.”

Gabriel wrapped his arms tightly around him. “How about this? I promise to do everything in my power to keep you distracted. That way, you’re not too stressed out.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips in thought. “Not too distracted, though. I had practically forgotten about the fight until now, and I still need to stay on my toes.”

“How about I distract you just enough to keep your mind off of it?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Well then, Sugarplum, how do you propose I keep you distracted?”

“You can start by kissing me again,”

“Oh, I can do more than kissing,” Gabriel mused in a suggestive tone and wiggled his brows.

(Y/N) slapped his chest. “Perv,” he grumbled. “Let’s just start with kissing.”

“Taking it slow, I like your style,” Gabriel nuzzled his nose against (Y/N)’s.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “Then shut up and kiss me already.”

Without another word, Gabriel leaned down, capturing (Y/N)’s lips in a deep kiss. Just like that, all of his problems dissipated, and it felt as if he was floating. The park didn’t exist anymore, nor the stumbling locals who left the bar periodically. There were no stars, no more beautiful night sky. The only two things that existed were Gabriel and (Y/N). They were complete. They were strong. They were one. It felt as if nothing in Heaven, Hell, or in between could tear them apart. 

And everything was as it should be.

[bittersweet-adagio]

KHOI v. SAI: PRE-ROUND

I’m scared. In all honesty, I’m scared. I thought maybe I’d die before this round came, but I didn’t. I didn’t, and now my actions are coming back to me like those vintage boomerangs.

When I talked to you at the dinner party, it felt like my world was ending as I saw the life in your eyes fade much darker when you saw my face. I was only trying to help you, but it seems like I made it much worse.

You know, it isn’t much longer now. Soon, I’ll get to close my eyes and rest my head under the light of your gaze forevermore. I’m sorry, Sai, but maybe it’s time for me to go.

Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions.

basically vibes of khoi v. sai… obviously this doesn’t cover ALL that happens before the round but. yep. posting this a bit early! love u all <3 this is pretty short n i did NOT read over this so sorry for any mistakes lols

What can Khoi do now but just wait for this all to be over? He’s going to lose and Sai is going to win. He may be the more popular vote, but no matter what, Khoi would never let Sai die for him.

If anything, Khoi should be the one with a hole through his heart and his body on the cold floor. The red of his blood spilled would look quite harsh on the cool blue he was wearing, but he wouldn’t mind. Not that he could, because the moment he bled, he’d have already breathed his last breath.

Sai is wearing red. Their outfit is as extravagant as usual, lacy and beautifully cluttered. It brings out their eyes. The same eyes that don’t look at Khoi anymore, the same eyes that look lifeless and pale, tired and angry.

It’s fine. Everything’s going to be just fine. When Khoi dies, he can meet Ellie in the afterlife. Maybe, eventually, he can see Vera too. But that’s if he loses. And he has to lose. It doesn’t matter what it takes.

“Are you ready to sing, Sai?” He asks, not expecting a response.

“Sure I am,” is the curt answer he was given.

“I helped write this song, you know.” Khoi reaches for the chain on his pants, fidgeting with the cold metal to stop the feeling of his body becoming warm with nervousness.

“Uh huh.”

It’s awkward, of course. They haven’t had a real conversation in years. Well, years before the dinner party. When Sai was…

It’s not important now.

It’s almost time for them to ascend to the stage together. They have a dance to do they barely practiced, unless forced by their guardians. It’ll be sloppy and uncoordinated, but that’s okay. It’ll be okay as long as Sai is there, full of life and overcome with emotion.

Khoi really has to do something drastic to lose, doesn’t he? God, the segyein would never let him lose the vote, that’s for sure, but… it’s not impossible, is it?

He can worry about that later. He needs to—

“Stop thinking so hard, Khoi.”

“What?”

Sai groans. “I said stop thinking so hard, you idiot. At this rate, everyone’ll know and you’ll lose the vote.” He points a harsh, accusing finger at Khoi’s chest.

“What if I want to lose the vote?” Khoi pushes the other’s finger away, crossing his arms. “What if I wanted you to win?”

“Haha, funny joke. Don’t mess with me like that again, or else I’ll think you’re being serious.”

“I am being serious.”

“You’re going to win, Khoi, that’s how these always fucking work, they’re rigged and it’s unfair. You know damn well I’m going to lose because I rank lower than you in fan votes.” Sai huffs when he sees Khoi’s uneasy expression. “Don’t make that face when you know I’m right.”

“Whatever you say,” Khoi replies, and suddenly the signal goes off for them to begin their ascent to the stage. “Good luck, Sai.”

Sai doesn’t dignify him with an acknowledgment of any kind.

This is going to hurt so bad.

[angelscrawls]

Against the World

Surface

Libby surveys the Infantry atrium. Her eyes are half-lidded.

There's Anna, Kian, Anh, Digby, and the rest of the usual suspects. They're all off doing their own thing.

She sighs. Another boring year...

...And then she notices the new person. Her eyes widen.

They're standing next to Digby. Talking to him. Something almost everyone else in the room never does unless they have to.

Unlike everyone else, they're not dressed casually. Not that they're wearing a costume—but they look...spiffy. Albeit in a worn, patchy, hand-me-down sort of way.

One brow quirked, Libby makes her way over to them.

Digby looks at her as she approaches. "Oh, hi, Libby."

"Hey, Digby."

In turn, the new kid turns to her.

She almost stumbles.

Moles. Thick, wavy, dark ginger hair. Dimples; the remnants of a great, big grin. Warm, brown eyes.

If she'd of known the new recruit was this cute, she would've actually bothered to show up when she was told to.

"You must be Hayday!" they say. Their voice is oddly raspy.

Her eyes widen a little. "Uh...yeah. Hi." She pauses for a moment before remembering to actually introduce herself. "Name's Libby, though."

"Got it." They nod solemnly. "I'm Aquamarine. My name is Roscoe—but you can call me Ross."

Her eyes narrow. Aquamarine...why does that sound familiar...?

She frowns when she notices him staring.

"...Take a picture. It'll last longer." "...Oh! Heh, sorry."

He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Um...Ross?" Digby suddenly speaks up. "Yeah?" "Can you go back to telling your story?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure! But I should probably start over if Libby wants to listen."

She looks at Digby. He looks back. There's a smile on his face; his eyes are bright.

"...Sure. Not like I have anything better to do."

Clearing his throat, Ross grins.

"It all started on a bright, sunny day..."

She quirks a brow. Not what she was expecting. Still, it probably won't be that interesting.

"...and then..."

Libby leans forward. At some point, they sat down on the floor, with her and Digby next to each other and Ross in front of them.

"...he cackled! Mwahahhaha!" Ross' raspiness helps make the laugh sound actually menacing. "And said, 'You thought you could get me monologuing, did you? Well, think again!' Before he ZAPPED them!"

Digby gasps. His eyes are wider than saucers.

Her brows fly up. Libby scoots closer.

"Everyone screamed! They flailed in agony as a hundred watts surged through their bodies!"

"Did they die?" Digby asks, voice quiet.

"Almost," he replies. "Their nerves were totally frayed; hair standing on end and singed; bodies trembling, they stood up tall together..."

Her brow furrows. "Wait. Stood up? I thought they were trapped?"

"I was getting to that!" "Oh. Sorry."

"...As I was saying, they stood up tall together...which is when he realized his fatal error! Zapping them like that caused their restraints to short circuit, freeing them! With a shout of rage, they all raced towards him and beat the shit out of him!"

Her eyes widen cartoonishly. Digby's jaw drops.

And then, she bursts out laughing.

"What? What's so funny?" Ross questions, brow furrowed.

"I...wasn't...expecting...you...to...say...that!" Libby manages to respond through her laughter.

The tension in his face dissolves. With a smile, he chuckles.

"Ahh...man...you're lucky Anh left a while ago," she says once she's stopped and caught her breath. "She would've gotten on your ass about that."

"What? Why?"

"She doesn't like it when we swear. Says we're too little for it. And it's unprofessional," Digby explains.

"Wow. Really?" Libby nods. "Yep. They're all kind of like that." "They all dislike swearing?"

"No...that they think we're too little." he frowns, his gaze falling. "We don't get to go on patrol or missions much. Just stay here and talk over comms. And, um, training. Lots and lots of it."

Ross purses his lips at that, his nose scrunching up.

"Oh, and we get to go on food and drink runs," she adds, "and play messenger! Which is always so much fun." She rolls her eyes.

"So...we don't get to do any actual hero stuff?"

"Pretty much. Unless they really need the extra power, but they don't wanna send in the big guns."

"...Oh."

He looks away. Crossing his arms, his brow furrows. All the energy in his eyes from earlier is gone now.

"...Er...sorry." She averts her gaze. "But it's better we broke it to you. It's not like anybody else is gonna tell you. They'd rather keep you hoping, when really all it is is that they're waiting for your fourteenth birthday or...whatever."

"...It's...it's okay. Thanks for telling me." "Yeah. Sure."

A few moments of silence pass.

Standing up, Ross offers them both a weak smile and a hand.

"I know we just met and all, but...well, at least we're all in it together. Right?"

Her brows go up. Digby's mouth opens slightly. They glance at one another.

Matching smiles on their faces, they each take one of his hands.

"Right." "Mhm."

He grins. Pulling them to their feet, he squeezes their hands.

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Do you think that gwen stacy is trans?

Yes, yes I do.

Now, the last time I talked about this I also mentioned I didn't see a point in making a post about it, because nothing I was going to say was going to be different than what you had probably already seen everywhere else.

That being said-

I had seen SO MANY idiots on the internet, to which I haven't replied (because I am also trans I used to know when or not to bother with people like that,) which had made me want to discuss the matter in my own words, even if I can't truly add anything new to the table.

So, I will probably do the same reasoning everyone else had already said, if anyone is still interested in reading it feel free, if not you can scroll. I will also address some common criticism of the theory.

Before we start the actual arguments, a few things.

No, I don't think if you believe Gwen is cis you are transphobic or something, as long as you are respectful.

I can't say how people see her or not, and while for me the evidence feels obvious, I know unless we have Gwen saying it (or someone close to her at least,) it cannot be sure one way or another. Remember that, ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.

I am fine if someone doesn't think she is trans, but I do think believing is IMPOSSIBLE for her to be is when you are entering transphobic territory. The reason why I think this is dumb, aside of the evidence; is the fact that if a character doesn't need to say I'm cis at any point to believe so, Gwen shouldn't need to say I'm trans for people to HC her as such or similar.

With that out of the way, let's start.

Going back to this image, we see that Gwen has a flag that says "Protect trans kids." Which to me feels like says a lot.

I had seen people suggest that "Of course she is an ally, she is a hero!" And while I could get Gwen being interested in helping people who face discrimination, since she deals with crime and such; the idea has me cackling more than anything else.

Is not impossible, but seriously, WHEN had you seen an ally with a flag in their room? It feels like an excuse someone who is in the closet would say; allies could have trans stuff or displayed in certain situations, but those situations tend to be in public, you know? Since being an ally means being vocal when you need to; there is really no reason for an Ally to have a trans flag in their room as decoration.

To top it all off, is on top of her door, not a window or anything, is obviously this is more for her than anything else.

George Stacy has a trans flag on his uniform.

This...This a really big deal honestly.

In a vacuum is a small gesture, perhaps if you aren't part of the community you don't get why I think this is amazing. So let me say a couple of things.

He is supporting his trans daughter; maybe is because of my family, or because all of my current trans and non-gender conforming friends have parents who range from shitting to not very supportive in general. So having Gwen be trans, still be a teen, and her dad supporting her? FUCK that means the world to me, even if I think he isn't that good of a dad.

This is in his uniform, this isn't just supporting Gwen in front of her, but also when she isn't around. You would be surprised how many parents say to be supportive but be quiet while hearing about discrimination. This also can lead me to believe he will be supportive when other trans individuals are around.

He is a cop. In real life, I don't feel safe around cops for a multitude of reasons I will not get to because I don't want to get too political here. Regardless, the fact that he is the Police Captain of his department while having this shows that he can be supportive of trans people, is huge.

Now, I know the next piece of evidence has been debated A LOT, especially for people who honestly, have clearly no idea how cinema, animation, or art work at all.

You know? Coding can be so funny at times.

There have been multiple times, when things had been coded on purpose, to the point I thought it was as subtle as a brick hitting your face; and yet I still find people who don't get it and just baffled me to not end.

Examples: Norma in Dead End Paranormal is coded as autistic, but it is never explicitly said on the show, (I think is mentioned in the comics? I know the creator is autistic.) However I never felt it needed to, because Normal has so many signs and hints that I clock her in the first episode, and the representation is so point it feels as if she needed to state she is a woman of color.

Nimona is another example related to the trans experience; seriously almost word for word what Nimona says can be applied to trans people, with the creator also being trans; and yet I was baffled to see some people saw the movie and didn't clock that.

Now, is what Gwen is saying in this scene talking about her experience being Spider-woman? Yes. However, just like Nimona didn't explicitly say she was trans, their entire story revolves around a trans allegory (As well as being likely genderfluid,) feels like is trying to say something.

Not to mention that this is a story, an animated one at that; everything you see on screen was put there by someone and animation tends to have fewer coincidences because you are going to be staring at this screen for a LONG time most probably. It was also noted by the crunch situation (which is again, horrifying and I think Chris Miller needs to find another way to work rather than wasting time and resources like he did,) that the writers had a tendency to tweak to make sure everything was on point; this couldn't have been thrown carelessly.

With all of this preface, Gwen's speech in this section? This could be played WORD BY WORD on a come-out speech.

"And they can only know half of who I am!" -> Having your real gender identity in the closet a lot of times feels like you need to hide half of who you are, from likings to aesthetics to even how you behave socially, it can be a big toll.

"So I'm completely on my own!" -> This is a common sentiment for people who are in the closet without support, because you are carrying all these feelings alone and have no one to understand.

"And now, I don't- I don't even know what the right thing is, anymore!" -> People may be a bit confused about this one, but believe it or not, it happens more often than you think. Should you transition? Should you wait a few years? Should you try to have this conversation with your parents, cousins, etc?

"But I know...I can't lose, one more friend." -> I don't think, I need to talk about how often people aren't supportive of trans individuals. I could talk more about this, but frankly, I don't need to. It happens, even to this day and age, especially in the current political climate.

To top all of this off, the reason why I singling this part (Aside from this speech being as subtle as the Ruby Gillman movie having the antagonist be a parody of Ariel.) Is the background.

The colors are just like a trans flag.

Now, I had seen people suggest that pointing at this is dumb because "that's just an homage to the covers!"

To which I said, no, this is the homage.

And what the background is doing with Gwen in the speech scene is definitely not the same thing.

I find this argument really funny from an artistic point of view, but in case people are wondering why I don't think it counts, let me number a few things.

The covers do this lighting situation OUTSIDE, they normally depict Gwen being around the city on a landscape when things happen, not indoors. This is both the covers and the sky in Gwen's universe. But we don't see indoor places doing this really.

The colors blend, while you can see buildings and windows have their own colours, you can also see them going from orange, to pink and red on the exact same wall.

If you want even more proof of my support, let me show you what the artbook says about this (which includes the covers.)

My point is, even if we try to argue that the covers had something to do; do you think in a movie where they already have Gwen had a trans flag, her dad had a trans patch; would have a moment when the speech mimics exactly the trans experience (or a big chunk for many people,) with the colors in the background being EXACTLY like a trans a flag, with creators and creative that they have STATED, the importance of color in Gwen's world and in Gwen specifically, somehow just choose colors at random at a pivotal moment of the movie?

And I am somehow the crazy one?

Biases

I like to believe I am a fair person, for the most part. Every time I do these analyses I try to be as impartial as possible, and when I know there is a chance my biases and personal opinion will come into hand, I said that much.

As I said before, I am trans, anyone who has seen at least my master post can probably guess I like Gwen. Having a character I dearly love be trans (Even if our situations are wildly different) obviously means the world to me, and perhaps I would have had a similar headcanon even without any hints or evidence.

Regardless, I don't think what I am saying is purely biased; things are put in movies for a reason, especially animated movies, and let me tell you something, has this been another character, especially if it was a new character? I don't think people would be debating this.

If we have a new character having a trans flag in their room, their dad having a trans patch, this narrative; I doubt anyone would be saying this is coding. (Honestly, we would probably have more dudebros saying this is woke garbage than the ones I had seen lol.)

Alternative theories

Now, since I have addressed the theory and some of its criticism, I can't just ignore the number of people had rather than thinking Gwen is trans, believe someone else is.

Theory 1: Peter is Trans

This isn't odd. Honestly if you had been part of the Spiderman community while being queer, or aware of queer readings, you would have probably come around to the fact that a lot of people headcanon Peter Parker as trans, in multiple different variants in different mediums.

Partially because the spidey-hero situation really mimics the trans experience (there is a reason why you can put Gwen's speech on a come-out scene while simultaneously being about her hero identity without either way sounding forced,) and depending on what source materials, other clues can apply. This post isn't about that and it is already extremely long, so I will not dwell on this.

With this theory in mind, Gwen and her dad would be having trans flag and patch in memory of Peter, since with this theory it was likely that was the reason he was bullied, and probably another reason why to experiment to become the lizard; since being bullied could make him feel like he needs to find a way to be more masculine.

And look, do I have a problem with people thinking Peter is trans? Not really, I encourage it, I personally like the idea that both Gwen and Peter were trans and they bonded over it.

However, I wouldn't want this to be in canon, why?... It feels like it would fall into some harmful stereotypes.

Think about it this way; if we go with this route, a trans teen was bullied, after showing he looks like he is kind of isolated (Gwen seems to have the band at least, Peter looks like he was a loner, and then Gwen started to put distance between them because Spider-woman issues.) Get's so desperate that in an attempt to be "special" (maybe even "better" and "stronger," if he felt he wasn't enough as he was,) tries to experiment with things he shouldn't dying in the process; to which Gwen and her dad then would try to fight for trans rights in his memory, as this theory also heavily implies Peter was bullied because he was trans.

And look, angst narratives had their place, and a lot of people like this narrative, heck I remember a book that does something similar (More than Gold is the name, tho the character doesn't die,) and that was written by a trans person.

Nonetheless, the idea to suggest the only trans person in this narrative, dies after ostracization and bullying, and their purpose on the story as a whole would be to fuel Gwen's pain, with the "protect trans kids" idea only happening partially because of her guilt; feels a lot like "bury your gays (or trans in this case,)" something akin to frigging (while Peter would obviously still consider a boy in this theory, having a character from a minority die to hurt/inspire a protagonist, feels deeply concerning.) Is just a combination of too many things that I dislike.

Again, if someone likes this idea I will not say they are a bad person or anything; but I would have fewer issues if it wasn't because a SIGNIFICANT number of those who said this theory, had also shown to be deeply transphobic; insisting Gwen is obviously not trans with non-arguments. Doesn't need to be everyone, but it still annoys me.

2. Captain Stacy IS the trans one!

This one is...interesting, to say the least.

This one is less frequent than Peter's, but I had seen it pop around enough that I decided to address it.

Unlike Peter's, this one doesn't carry horrible connotations. Well it would have the "only" (if we go with this theory and with no other "canon" trans parent in the story,) trans parent be also the one that tries to point a gun at his daughter, to also be so extremely stubborn even when she finally comes back he acts kind of petulant- okay all of these things are bad, however, they wouldn't need to be related to each other; since none of these are really stereotypes of trans men. That's something?

Anyways, the big idea behind this theory is that aside from being more plausible for an adult to use a trans patch because they are trans rather than because their kid is trans, it could be a possible explanation as to why there is no mom or mention of a mom, since this child could be in vitro.

Which, okay, not that bad; I don't think a lot of trans men would like the idea of being pregnant, however, it has happened before so why not.

I don't think this is a bad theory overall, I just don't roll with it because it feels kind of, lazy? Again, do as you may; but it feels that the people who did it were more interested in again, having an explanation for Gwen not being trans, while also not actively being transphobic. Maybe some people just want more trans dad content I don't know.

There are technically instances of both the Peter theory and the Dad theory that could dethrone both of these, but the one related to Peter makes me feel a bit gross to think too hard about, and the other George one could imply something things that one way or other I don't like when the reality is that is a few frames on a scene where the patch isn't the focus. Another reason is that hey, if I don't have solid evidence on my own, I am not going to nitpick at other fan theories.

Speaking of which.

Is this Representation?

Short answer: No, no it's not.

I don't even want to discuss if is good representation, because it doesn't feel like it is to begin with. Yes, I do believe Gwen is trans, but all the things I have are background references, that are okay, however not having a confirmation does sting. It doesn't have to be the focus of her character, yet is not even off comments really, just some clues around.

Do I think it doesn't have Merit? No.

I remember during the first days this movie was out, I read a comment from someone who was in Florida, who said when they saw the "Protect Trans Kids" flag in Gwen's room, started crying.

I think of myself, almost a decade ago, in a country that wasn't really welcome to gay people, much less trans people; of the discrimination I faced because of it. I think when I was a teen, grappling with all these feelings; and how I would had feel seen the badass and cool, Gwen Stacy as Spider-woman, having that trans flag in their room. I know I would have cried too.

We cannot act like things are perfect currently; the United States, England, and other countries are becoming increasingly transphobic; having these things in a PG movie, from a big company, that is released to a worldwide level and is making bank. Not to mention that as small as these details are, the movie did end up getting banned for it, not even censored.

I think we can get better representation, but it doesn't mean this is less huge or less special; even if it didn't touch me like it would have in the past, it had touched many people, and that's something I appreciate one way or another.

This is in itself, another reason why to love this idea.

Gwen being trans fits the themes of the story better

Stan Lee is obviously, talking about Spider-MAN, but it gets the message across doesn't it?

Part of the reason Spiderman became so iconic, was the idea that ANYONE could be Spiderman, this ended up involved in these movies too.

In Across the Spider-verse, we see multiple types of spiders, people from the future, and past, children, women, men, animals, and a popsicle at one point (literally.) The movie also has Miguel, who is the antagonist, convinced what makes them Spiderman/Spiderwoman/you get the idea- is decided by a cosmic force, with Miles claiming that Spiderman is an idea, a responsibility, but something much more diverse than "you need these events to happen in order to be considered truly spiderman."

In Into the Spider-verse, this idea is also shown, by having spideys that are not just Peter Parker, and how Peter while important, isn't truly the protagonist of this tale, he doesn't need to be.

This franchise hinders the idea that being Spiderman is more than a name, a gender, or your background; is about someone that when given the possibility of using their powers for their own gain or ignoring the call, decides to risk it all, to handle a difficult life, to try to do their best despite the circumstances; because the essence of Spiderman, is being a hero, and anyone can be Spiderman. Anyone can be a hero.

Gwen being trans, elevates this idea.

While I think having more Spider-woman content is empowering on its own, cis woman or trans, the idea of having a trans hero obviously exemplifies this idea more than having her absence.

If Gwen is a trans girl, it would mean having a trans girl who is a tridimensional character, a trans teen that messes up, that doesn't know what to do, but is also a hero, and wants to do her best like everyone else. It means showing a trans girl as someone beautiful, badass, and having a guy who adores her with all his might.

If the idea of having her Peter be trans could be problematic, having her be trans means having a great role model, means a story about trans joy where we are free to be more than our identities, because the idea of Gwen casually being a hero and also trans is amazing in its own.

Is not perfect, but I ultimately love this idea, because it brings me hope. It means comfort for some trans and trans teens suffering out there, it means perhaps someone out there will try to offer more stories on the big screen with trans teens.

I want to believe this because Gwen being trans means more for us and the narrative than it would be otherwise. Let us have our dreams.

[polutrope]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @niennawept @melestasflight @sallysavestheday @spiritofwhitefire @grey-gazania for the tag! I've enjoyed reading all of yours.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 89 on main, 12 on my pseud, 2 anon.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 284k on main.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Silmarillion.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant (Fingon/Sons of Feanor humour)

Who Shall Release Us? (Maedhros post-reembodiment angst)

A Gift (M&M childhood fluff)

Improving Relations (Maglor & Caranthir fluff)

A Proposition (Russinglor smut)

Y'all are predictable, but I do enjoy all of these myself so. Good choices. 

5. Do you respond to comments? Always. Unless they're rude, in which case I delete them without replying.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'm reading the last lines of my fics trying to find one that ends with pure angst and laughing because they're all like "... but there was hope."

Anyway, The Marks that Bind Us (Celegorm/OC) and His Hour Had Come (Saeros & OC) end on a sinister note.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty much everything in my Sex Is Fun series. People have sex, it's fun, the end :).

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not hate, but I've had a couple people be rude, like commenting on a word choice they didn't like and nothing else. *Delete*.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Shamelessly. Prolifically. Joyfully. I co-mod @silmsmutweek with the marvellously shameless @ettelene. I'd say my niche is fun sex... hot elves + open communication + laughter. I've written dark stuff too though.

As with most in this fandom, my smut is mostly M/M but I'm proud of the amount of F/M smut I've written. Which is a weird thing to be proud of, if this weren't Silm fandom.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No. Keep thinking about doing something with Silm + Greek myth but it's amorphous.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant with @melestasflight and currently co-writing with the same. I love it.

Besides that, almost everything I've ever posted is some level of collaborative, whether it be with some big-brained anonymous prompter on silmkinkmeme or by shoving a mess of words at a friend and crying, "Help!" etc etc. I cannot and do not create in a vacuum, at all.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Maglor/Most Anyone.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? If I want to finish it, I probably will. There are a lot of things I don't want to finish, and I won't.

16. What are your writing strengths? Language and characterisation. Editing.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I was going to say "Perfectionism", then started questioning if that made me sound like an asshole, and whether people would get what I meant by that, and so then I started making a whole list of things I don't think I am good at, and have so far spent about 10 minutes on this question, and ... you see the irony here?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't know, I wouldn't do it (unless my universal disclaimer -- "Except if it's funny." -- applies.)

19. First fandom you wrote for? Silmarillion, in 2003. There was then a 17 year break. I have no other fandoms and need no other fandoms.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Refuse to answer.

I have a feeling a lot of people have done this over the last week while I have been buried in work but @ettelene @tethysresort @millenariumhappinesstheorem @a-tehta @gwaedhannen @zealouswerewolfcollector I don't think I saw one from you so please feel welcome to share these, if you like.

[pluto-glow]

I threw together a quick thing for that Church lives au I was talking about the other day, just a possible scenario of the Reds and Blues meeting Alpha on Chorus.

I wrote this in one sitting not long after waking up, so sorry ahead of time for any mistakes.

(Writing under cut)

“Felix what does Alpha say about our chances here?” Kimball asked the mercenary.

“Alpha?” The orange sim trooper asked who has surprisingly come to a meeting for once. Caboose for one, wasn’t at the meeting this time.

“I was trying to keep him secret, but I can trust you guys to not go rat to Doyle and his goons. This, is Alpha.” And with that the hologram of an AI in light blue sim trooper armor flickered to life on Felix’s shoulder with a ‘sup?’

“Church?!” Tucker said in disbelief.

“No I’m not religious.” Said the AI.

“It can’t be- the EMP- we went back and looked for you- how-” Tucker just stammered.

“He was in range of the EMP with the rest of the AI- unless his body protected him, could it do that?” Simmons rambled on and theorized.

“Church? Like your old teammate? Felix why does your AI look like their old teammate?” Kimball asked, turning to Felix.

“Hey I know as much about this as you do!” Felix responded, throwing his hands up in defense.

“Guys are we really sure that that’s Church?” Grif asked in disbelief.

“Who the fuck is Church and why do you think I’m him? Do I look like a mother fucking ghost to you?” Alpha asked, raising his voice.

“Yep that’s Church.” Grif responded.

“We didn’t mention anything about ghosts.” Simmons pointed out.

“You said the guy was dead, if I was him what else would I be?” Alpha defended.

“The last thing Church said before the EMP was calling himself a ‘mother fucking ghost’.” Tucker added.

“I think we need to back track, I know grief is rough, but my AI isn’t your dead friend.” Felix said, chuckling a little but trying to sound sympathetic.

“Let’s just ask him something only Church would know.” Tucker suggested, still convinced.

“Why? He isn’t Church.” Felix responded, finally putting his foot down.

“Humor them Felix, then we can get back to the matter at hand.” Kimball ordered, stern but with some sympathy for the sim troopers in her voice.

“Fine. Ask away.” Felix responded, shaking his head and crossing his arms.

“What happened to Tucker after he got his sword?” Grif asked.

“Seriously dude?! There was better questions than that!” Tucker snapped at Grif, lightly shoving him.

“I don’t know?” Alpha responded.

“Just- take a guess? Like a Kimball said, humor us so we can get closure and we’ll get back to the meeting.” Simmons requested.

“I really don’t know! What do you expect me to do, pull something out of my ass like ‘have an alien baby who got kidnapped repeatedly’?!” Alpha fired back. The sim troopers were speechless. “I’m sorry you’re missing your former leader, but like I said, I don’t know-”

“No you were right.” Tucker finally spoke up.

“What?!” Alpha and Felix shouted at the same time.

“You’re kidding.” Kimball responded in disbelief.

“Yeah Tucker has an alien kid.” Grif responded.

“His name is Junior, he’s the coolest.” Tucker boasted like a proud dad.

“You’re fucking with us.” Felix insisted.

“Nope, he really did have an alien kid, just ask Caboose.” Simmons replied.

“Caboose isn’t the best source.” Felix defended. “I love the guy, but he isn’t.”

“He has the scars from where it bit him.” Grif explained casually.

“So- Tucker had an alien baby- and it bit Caboose hard enough to leave a scar?” Kimball asked, partially hoping this was a joke.

“Yeah, no one warned us that the baby alien-” Tucker started to explain before getting cut off.

“Funny joke guys, can we get on with the meeting?” Felix begged.

“All that blood was a pain in the ass to clean up.” Alpha commented. The sim troopers gave the AI another look. “What? Is my armor on funny?”

“We never mentioned the blood.” Tucker explained.

“Yeah you did, the thing bit Caboose because it fed on blood.” Alpha defended himself.

“They didn’t mention that.” Kimball mentioned before adding. “Alpha, how did you know that?”

“What?! No they mentioned it!” Alpha insisted.

“They didn’t, we’re in the same room I would have heard it too.” Kimball argued.

“No- they did- they must have, I couldn’t have known other wise- I- I-” Alpha started to stammer while his hologram started to glitch.

“Great, you guys broke my AI. I’m gonna go see if I can get him sorted out.” Felix said before directing at Alpha “Alpha, power down.”

“But-” Alpha started to argue.

“Now Alpha.” Felix commanded. The mercenary looked up to see the look the sim troopers and Kimball were giving him through their helmets so he explained “I don’t want him to get damaged or anything, he’s been a big help in this fight.” And with that he turned around the left the meeting room.

“Fine, I guess we’ll meet another time.”

“What do we tell Caboose?”

[piltover-sharpshooter]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍.

Tagged By: @witchcraftandburialdirt (Thank you dear!)

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? ━━ This is going to sound incredibly basic, but it was Caitlyn's depiction in the Warriors cinematic. Before that Cait was always shown in her awful stripper parody of herself costume, so seeing her be so cool while at the same time getting the itch to get back into RP was a perfect combination. And I'm glad too, cause I started writing a few moments before she became extremely popular cause of her ASU and Arcane, so I always have some food and inspiration!

is there anything you don’t like to write? ━━ Not per se? I tend to be open to a lot of stuff depending on the partner I am writing with. If it counts, I guess I don't like being thrusted into a position where I HAVE to write something I'm not comfortable with without my partner having double checked.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? ━━ I'm going to be real with you chief, I like writing dumb shit. It's just fun, I try to both have fun with my writing and make others have fun as well. I love angst, I love smut, I love fluff, I adore all of it, but funny stuff? Comedy? Oh that's my jam, I am here for the memes.

how do you come up with headcanons? ━━70% of the time it's usually me talking to other people and a subject with be brought up, like amount of languages learnt, or instruments, and such and I end up thinking how does Cait relate. The other 30% it's actually something I have completly stolen from other media lol. I will just see something that jumps at me and think 'Oh Cait can do that too'

do you write in silence or do you play music?  ━━ I tend to write in silence, if nothing else because listening to music while writing makes my brain's wires get mixed. There are times when I listen to music, but it's more for ideation and inspiration.

do you plan your replies or wing them? ━━I tend to wing it! I ask beforehand if we have a plan for the specific thread, and if so I try to steer it in that direction, but for the most part I don't know what I will do until I get behind the keyboard.

do you enjoy shipping?  ━━ Absolutely, I am a ship whore. Clarification, I don't ship with anyone ever, and I do enjoy just a biiiit of preamble, characters meeting and interacting

what’s your alias/name?  ━━ Monkey or Choncc preferably

age? ━━ 27

birthday? ━━ The 25th of October

favorite color? ━━ It changes depending on my mood, but purple

favorite song? ━━ Don't have one! I tend to listen to a lot of stuff until I get bored of it and move on until I decide I can come back to it kek. At the moment my favorite song to listen to is Industry Baby .

last movie you watched? ━━ Madame Web, it was trash, I loved it.

last show you watched? ━━ Dungeon Meshi! Sidenote, WATCH DUNGEON MESHI.

last song you listened to? ━━Molgera's Theme Remix. (Blame @songofsilentechoes I've been listening to it religiously)

favorite food? ━━ Oh fuck, I'm a fat bastard how can I pick ONE?! You have milanesas, pasta carbonara, pizza, and so much more....shit I'll have to go with a classic and say double cheese burger, but that's a tough one and very interchangable.

favorite season? ━━ Winter. FUCK THE HEAT, ALL MY HOMIES HATE THE HEAT. COLD SQUAD FOR LIFE. Unless I'm at the beach

do you have a Tumblr best friend? ━━ Shoutout to my VAMPIRE SQUAD. @thegoldentigress/@nova--spark , @angelicxlly , @heredis-sanguinis and @weapon-turned-jack

Tagging: @songofsilentechoes @risingshine @undercity-merc @ferinehuntress @shimmerbeasts @playgroundmonsters @blackrosesmatron @darkin-of-shurima @heredis-sanguinis @weapon-turned-jack @nova--spark And whoever else wants to!

[zedpercyfan]

Pokeshipping Week '23 - Day 2 - Dancing

IDK I’ll Eventually put Something Here

(no, seriously, I can’t come up with one)

“YOU’RE inviting us a dance?” Ash asked Professor Oak in bemusement.

“Yes, my boy,” replied the Professor.  “The International Pokémon Research Core was asked by various Leagues if we were interested in hosting a celebration in honor of all the strides made in researching Mega Evolution.  Dancing is just part of the festivities.”

“I mean, sure, absolutely!  Why not?  It’d be a nice change.”

“I can only imagine after all that chaos in Alola with these Ultra Beasts, evil teams, and so on.”

Ash nodded in agreement.

***

The girls were rather excited at the prospect of the dance.  Brock tried to reason with Ash, Kiawe, and Sophocles, but all three were rather resistant to getting all worked up.

“Dull idea, if you ask me,” concluded Sophocles.

“Unless it’s to do with one of our Alolan traditions, I can’t really get excited about it,” muttered Kiawe.

“I’m happy to participate, but it’s not really that big of a deal,” added Ash.

“Agreed.”

“Yeah.”

“You guys…” sighed Brock.  “Mm,” he went on, imitating a certain small green creature in a movie series, “much romance I see not, in your futures.”

Brock needn’t have worried, however, for it was a mere few seconds that the girls suddenly came crowding around the boys.  Kiawe and Sophocles instantly backed away but Ash clearly still hadn’t learned from the shopping trip incident.

Mallow and Misty instantly surrounded Ash with the green-haired girl once again grabbing his shoulder with a hand.  “Ash, you are most definitely going to dance with us girls!” said Mallow.

“You’re kinda surrounded on this,” chuckled Misty.

“Uh, okay, sure,” replied Ash flatly.  He knew there was no way of getting out of it, though their reactions were comical.

Both girls blinked, Mallow in surprise yet disappointment, Misty in slightly total shock.  Both knew what the other thought: that wasn’t the reaction they were expecting.

Ash cocked his head to the side.  “What?”

“Wasn’t expecting you to want to dance,” said Mallow.

“Yeah, never took you as the type,” agreed Misty.

“Bit judgmental, you two” said Ash, offended.  He walked away without another word.

The girls exchanged glances, unsure of what to say.

***

The weekend of the celebration soon arrived.  Speeches were held and hints pertaining to the contents of the numerous Professors’ works were given.  The formal dance soon took place.

At first Misty had to be content dancing with someone else whilst Mallow had her turn with Ash but it wasn’t long before the twin tailed girl came alongside.  “My turn at last, ey?”

To Misty’s consternation, Mallow’s expression was blank.  “Yeah, your turn,” she said in a daze.  “You’re not gonna believe it, though…”

Misty gulped, her only conclusion was that Ash’s moves were really that bad.

“Jeez, Ash Ketchum, what did you do that shocked Mallow that bad?”

He scoffed and held out his hand.  “How ‘bout you find out?”

She accepted it.  “Hmph.”  Ash didn’t meet her rise and simply took a step back, raising his right hand before raising his left, holding her hand without hesitation.

“You’re very good at this,” said Misty, stunned as she twirled around.

“Thank you.”  When she stopped in place, Ash moved his right hand to hold her waist to continue the dance.

As the song continued, Misty found her words, now understanding Mallow’s shock.  “Huh, I’m honestly surprised you’re capable of this.”

“Well I don’t consider myself that bad at- wait, that wasn’t a compliment, now was it?” replied Ash as he let her go so he could twirl her again.

Misty rolled her eyes at him as she stopped.  “Took ya long enough,” she replied as she went back into his embrace.

“Very funny,” came the dry reply.  “Why’s my ability to do this so shocking to you?”

“I’m sorry.  Just…being abrasive for no reason,” said Misty, struggling to find a reason beyond being judgmental.  “So…where’d you learn to dance?”

“A famous star in Kalos who took sympathy on me when she saw me fumbling around at a ball.”

“Oh really.”  Misty’s eye lowered to a glare.  “I suppose you liked dancing with her?”

Ash was about to answer but some sort of fight-or-flight sense kicked in and he was now very aware that his answer was one to walk on eggshells with.  “I guess it was but it’s you I’m dancing with right now.”

At that point the music changed which indicated a partner change, but Ash didn’t let her go.

“Ash?”

He paused and considered.  “Not everyone’s changing partners,” he replied.  “I’d rather you stay here.”

“Oh…”  Misty’s face flushed red hot but was made to relax the moment Ash began moving again.  “You’re sure you don’t want to change partners…?”  Not that she was complaining but she did wonder what was going on inside Ash’s head.

“Lana and Lillie have other partners they can dance with.”

“But…why me?”

“Because I want to,” said Ash, staring into her eyes.  Her cerulean eyes fascinated him.  “I’m kinda enjoying this whole dancing thing.  I want to do more stuff like this with you.”

“Thanks, that…that means a lot to me.  But why just dance with me?  Not that I’m saying I don’t want to dance I jus-”

“It’s all for you,” replied Ash softly.  “Because…I like you, Misty.”

That did the trick.  Misty’s heart completely melted and she pushed up on her toes and gave Ash a light kiss.

“Uh…Mist,” said Ash quietly.

“Just a peck,” she replied.  “We are in public.”

“True.”

“Let’s just keep dancing since it’s what everyone else is doing.  We can discuss us more in detail later.  Oh…um…I love you too.”

Ash didn’t reply and just hugged her even tighter.

***

Author’s Note: I originally wanted this to be a two-for-one deal with the latest Left Behind chapter but unfortunately between some external issues in my personal life – Mom got had a sick episode and then I was having job application problems – that LB chapter is still a WIP.  C’est la vie.

[steelthroat]

For the getting-to-know-you ask meme:

42. Are you a good judge of character?

55. Most used phrase?

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? (For what? You choose)

90. What makes you angry? (And hopefully more usefully, what do you do about it?)

Oooooh hayyy, sorry for the late reply but here it is at last

42: I think so, but more often than not I try to give the benefit of doubt if the judgment isn't positive... works 50% of the time.

55: oof so:

"Le pecore e le wacche" translation "sheeps and cows" I don't know how to explain this because it's a multilayered inside joke that requires A LOT of context ahahahh. It's funny to me tho

"That's what she said" (this never gets old)

"Slash their tires" for when people act like assholes

"Kinky~" (when my friends "threaten" me)

[Insert meme me and my best friend fixated on this week]

*insert dick joke here*

It's a terrible experience talking to me when you're a close friend of mine, it's either violence or sex-jokes ahahaha

57: okay let's say I either have to meet some friends or I have a party to attend:

My record it's 30 seconds (wear a shirt, jorts and boots)

3 minutes when I'm running late in the morning (wash up, get dressed black pencil under my eyes)

Or 30 mins or more if I want to be pretty but I've already prepared the things I have to wear

2 hours if I have to shower first and I have nothing prepared

90: many things make me angry not gonna lie... but like- varying degrees of anger. And usually I don't snap or have strong reactions unless it's a repeated offense. Like, loud noises, people repeating the same thing over and over, getting interrupted- these things make me angry but I first try to give heads up to the offenders.

The thing that makes me go feral is when someone sees insects just living their life around and starts killing them. I will throw hands for something like that, because that is absolutely vile.

I remember when i was 6 in elementary school it was recess or smt and I had caught a little cricket and I was watching it jumping around.

After one of its jumps I was just about to get it again and put it near the grass and set it free when a kid stomps on it and starts laughing in my face

(Everyone knew I liked insects and I tried to teach my peers not to be scared of them and how to get them without hurting them)

I started crying because WHAT THE FUCK? Why would you do that? Then I beat him up because I swear I've never hated someone more in that moment. That little cricket didn't deserve to die.

Another time something similar happened was when a kid tore a drawing of mine in half, I didn't beat that guy this time, but in hindsight I should have because he kept being horrible to me and everyone else... still is to this day, but now I just ignore him. It's not worth it.

So idk as of now I'm working on my anger because I do have a bit of an issue w that. I try to avoid things that make me angry and when I stumble upon them I try to keep it cool. But I am way less angry than I was a couple of years ago.

[troublesome-trio-au]

good morning can we follow Patton today? He said he was going to the sanctuary I wanna see that!

"Rem, it's too early to turn that thing on" Roman mumbles.

The three of them are sitting at a table, breakfast in front of them.

Roman is slowly picking at his pancakes, his eyes half closed, hand propped up on his cheek, he's not much of a morning person.

"What, no it's not" Remus scoffs "how else would they see prim proper pretty Roman all sleep disheveled? "

Not all of the words seemed to process for him cause Roman replies with "aw, you think I'm preeeeetty~."

Patton snorts through a mouthful of pancakes, he has a very large serving of not only that but bacon, scrambled eggs and a Very Large blueberry muffin.

Patton seems to be a morning person and despite Remus whining last night so does it.

"Sho" Remus starts, mouth full "the shanhuaray ish it shtill off limits?" It directs the question to Patton, pointing at him with his fork.

Patton blinks a few times trying to translate what he just heard "uhh, no, not unless Lo got in more contagious patients since Thursday."

"So everyone is completely fine?" Roman asks a little more aware now.

"Yeah! Logan and Janus are actually quite a good team! And apparently Janus has some kind of special venom or something?" Patton says.

"OooOOoooh" Remus' eyes go wide with curiosity "how is it special?"

"Oh! I don't know the specifics but she called it her 'self care heals all snake oil' which I find pretty funny, cause isn't snake oil something that doesn't work? But this seems to work really well!"

"Hm, not what I was hoping for it to be but hey! It's not my venom!" Remus says then scarfs down the rest of its food while shoving the camera towards Patton.

"Oh, am I doing the blog today? I'd have to tell Logan, it would be rude to just show up with an audience."