#two different versions of this song were requested so i chose my favorite! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

waywardimpalawriter · 4 years ago

Note

hi! i really love your writing, and was really hoping you could do another dean winchester x f! plus size reader. possibly were they are best friends and she is pining for someone else. so before she can make her move on someone else he stops her and confess his love for her. idk maybe some angst/fluff/smut?? you don’t have to if u don’t want to, it’s totally up to you. like no pressure at all! but seriously, i do really love all your writing and i wanted to say thank you for everything u write and do!! <3 once again no pressure at all with this ask, but overall thank you!!<3

Just one good reason

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader

SPN mixed Bingo Square: Hurt/Comfort Square

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,

Setting: mid season 11

Rating: E (explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: angst, smut, yearning, grumpy and sweet Dean (yes they need a warning),

Word count: 12,805 (Truly Was suppose to be this long. I blame Dean for this.)

Summary: He’s given a million reasons, damaged goods, blood on his hands, nightmares, scared in so many ways. But most of all that he’s not good enough. Just when you’re ready to walk out that door he gives you one good reason to stay.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this request, I love writing for Dean so very much and to add a plus size gal in as well that just makes my day. I do hope you’ll enjoy this story. The song “Million Reasons” both version’s by Lady Gaga and Briana Buckmaster are inspiration for this story.

Tag list: Is open for all character’s and series I write for.

@spnmixedbingo

Dean Winchester list: @akshi8278

Just one good reason list: @chickensarentcheap

@impala1967dwinchester, @lilacprincessofrecovery, @superavengerpotterstar @jbbarnesgirl @sofreddie @slightlyobsessedwithissues

Ancient hinges creak wearily, firm hand pushing to hold open the heavy door letting you and Sam pass by. Fatigued sigh leaves slightly chapped lips, “It’s good to be home.” Taking the stairs down two at a time, tossing duffle bags towards the war table.

“Going soft on us old man?” Teasing quip tugging a smile from your lips as you drop down into the nearest chair. “Getting use to having that soft bed under your ass now huh?”

Scoffing, whiskey flecked green eyes settling on your plush frame, “Woman you forget we’re the same age first off.” Playfully stocking towards you, hands placed on the back of your chair to cage you in. “Second damn right that bed is magical, memory form baby, it remembers me,” poking your side, giggle leaving your lips body squirming in the seat.

“Stop,” pleading tone entering your voice, trying to evaded his questing hands trailing along your curvy sides. “Please,” puppy eyes begging for mercy, his hands aren’t willing to give. Though you can’t bring yourself to care seeing the weight, even for a moment, disappear from his countenance. Or the fact your sides aren’t the ticklish spot on your body, moving in the seat purely for show.

“Say your sorry for calling me old,” brow lifting watching you squirm under his hands. Wishing and not for the first time, he could have your soft body slotted against his harder frame. Knowing how well you fit just in a different way, one that hasn’t been enough for a long time.

Giggles burst from your lips, hands flat against the hard plains of his chest tugging on the dark blue t-shirt to distract from his plans. Pushing him away which had as much of an effect as a toy bulldozer did against a real brick wall. “Okay, okay I’m sorry, promise I’m sorry,” gasping for breath giving a hard tap to his shoulder.

“Now who’s giving up too soon?” Hands pause as his eyes catch yours for a long moment. Smiling face beaming up at him, heart beating triple time and not from assaulting you with his hands. Unable to resist the urge to touch your soft skin. Callused fingers come up to barely graze just under your left eye carefully capturing the eyelash on the tip of his forefinger from your cheek, “Make a wish.”

Leaning forward to place your lips close to the offered digit, eyes closed to blow a cold stream, eyelash fluttering away unseen. Keeping your libs lowered for a bit longer torn between what you truly desire and what’s within your grasp. Whiskey roughened voice breaking through your thoughts, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“What you wish for?” Swallowing hard, beloved eyes flutter open to ensnare his in there depths. Catching something simmering just below but disappears quicker than a jack rabbit running from a coyote.

Clearing yours throat, “Can’t tell ya Deano won’t come true if I do.” Giving a smile, pressing him backwards to raise and grab your duffle bag. Cell phone signaling an incoming text message making you pull the the black case wrapped piece of tech out of your front jeans pocket. Bright smile pulling your lips higher seeing just who’s messaged you. “Catch y’all later.”

“Someone good?” Sam speaks for the first time since coming home. Watching the scene between his brother and best friend. Wanting to strangle the both of you for not seeing what’s right in front of you.

Head snapping up from buried in your phone to stare wide eyed at Sam, “Yes, no I mean it’s nothing but could be something.”

“Will again?” Peripheral catching the dark scowl pass over Dean’s features before disappearing behind a mask of indifference.

Humming sweetly, sparkle lighting your eyes that go back to your phone for a moment. “He’s asking if we can meet up tomorrow for lunch, trying to choose where to eat.”

“What about,” clearing his throat to unclog the emotions choking off the air to breath. “That little diner in town? It’s your favorite and serves the best pie aside yours of course.”

Trapping and tugging your bottom lip between nibbling teeth, head shaking in the negative. “Nope he’s not fond of greasy foods.”

‘Plus that’s our spot,’ unbridled thought slides into your mind and you want to look over at Dean to remind him. But push those thoughts aside with a wave, heading towards the bedrooms carefully making sure not to bump into a wall while responding.

Green eyes follow till you round the corner, heart catching in his throat cursing himself for mentioning your diner. Knowing better yet wanting confirmation without asking if the spot is still special.

“You’re an idiot Dean,” shaggy brown head shaking as he to snaps up his duffle bag to head towards his room. “The foundation is already there start building before it cracks.”

“Thanks Riddler, just cause I’m Batman doesn’t mean you have to be so fucking vague.” Left with his thoughts and the growing feeling he’s loosing you to another man. Dean leaves his stuff lay where it landed glancing over the chair you vacated not five minutes ago then heading towards the kitchen. In need of something harder than beer but settling for the dark brew being the only alcohol in the bunker.

Opening the fridge door, grabbing a brew his fingers brush against the clear plastic container holding a single slice of pecan pie. Eyes unseeing, drifting back into memories when the Mark of Cain still burned into his skin.

2015

Charlie’s dead, beaten, murdered and left in a pool of her own blood. Every time his eyes close she’s there, expressionless sea green eyes staring blankly into his own. Never hearing her snarky retorts, sassy ways or those hugs she gave. Staring into cold brown sludge, hands gripping the mug a little too tightly. Not sure why he chose to come here of all places. When he could’ve started out on his hunt for the Styne’s. Deep down though he knows the reason right as the little bell signals someone’s entered the small family owned diner. Knowing exactly who and trying to ready himself for your present.

Never ready for how your soft fingers brush along his temple, settling on his shoulder for a moment while you slide into the worn pleather covered booth. Trailing those gentle fingers down his black and grey plaid covered arm. Tugging one hand from around the ceramic cup to intertwine your fingers. Head coming to rest on his shoulder, no words just comfort in a time when he needs it most.

“You shouldn’t be here,” dark with hints of gravel and kissed with pain in the tone. Whiskey flicked green obits focus, for the first time on something besides the cup in his hands, landing on the top of your head.

Shrugging, “Where else should I be Dean?” Looking up at him sorrowful eyes meeting right when your other palm comes up to brush moisture from his cheek. Unnoticed tears sliding down cool cheeks, “You’re my best friend there’s no place I’d rather be then right here helping you.”

“You could get killed,” the very through twists his heart till almost bursting. Brings bile to rise in the back of his throat, slithering through his system to settle unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach. It’s one thing to loose Charlie a heavy casualty. But you, Dean isn’t sure he’d come back from the dark path he’d follow for vengeance.

Soft sad smile turns your lips barely upward, “Not gonna happen I have my knight in shining Impala to keep me safe.”

“I couldn’t keep Charlie safe how can I…”

Shaking your head, finger placed over his kissable lips, “You’ve given me a million reasons already Dean Winchester and I don’t believe a single one of them.” Resting your foreheads together a moment, tenderness skating across your veins for the man beside you, “You might not believe it but your a good man.”

Pie filled plate slides across scared formica table top, metal fork clattering against the ceramic pushed in front. “More coffee,” sweet feminine voice floats from beside you.

Nodding, “Please, sugar and cream too.” Giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes feeling Dean stir beside you.

“Black like my soul you know that sweetheart,” slightly chapped lips brush your cheek. A simple thank you for this act of kindness he feels undeserving of. If he hadn’t already been head over heels in love with you this sweet gesture would’ve sealed the deal.

Breathless gasp parts your lips as you turn finding Dean closer almost invading your space. Leather, motor oil and Irish Spring tickle your nose, eyes locking with those agony drenched obits, making another gasp exist your lungs. Heartache rocketing through your body, colliding with anger directed at the Styne’s.

“Eat your pie Winchester we’ll talk about that soul of yours later after dealing with the Styne’s.”

Heart freezing at the mention of the murdering family, “No,” rougher than intended, Dean grabs your chin twisting your face towards his. Rage hot and potent flaring through those beautiful greens. “No you will stay with Sam I’ll deal with them myself…”

“Dean you can’t be serious…” grabbing his wrist, pleading in your eyes for him to listen. Loosing Charlie splintered your heart, counting her as the sister you’ve never had. Her blood demanding revenge for the grievous act. But loosing Dean would kill you, knowing you never would come back from that agony.

“I am, deadly so. You try and sneak along I’ll toss that sexy ass outta Baby faster than you can pray to Castiel.”

Snorting, pulling your chin from his grasp, “You couldn’t lift me Winchester and you can’t stop me…” but the look he gives you does. Any farther flow of words halt in there bid to tumble out of your mouth.

“No I can’t,” callused palms cup your cheeks keeping you in place. Searching your eyes and making sure you understood, “I don’t want you to come with me Y/N. If there’s anytime to listen its now. I’ve lost one sister I didn’t want.” Bitting those words out to keep from speaking the others which threaten to pour from his being. “I can’t loose you,” resting your foreheads together again.

Nodding, trying to keep yourself from rubbing your cheek into his palm or worse press your lips against his. Lying to yourself isn’t something you normally do and you wouldn’t start now with the realization you were in love with your best friend and worried your going to loose him to the all consuming darkness.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show

You're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

Downing the last of his long neck, drawing patterns over the hardwood table underneath with the condensation from the bottle. Eyes trained on that single slice of pie you’d bought him weeks ago.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you D,” mirth filled voice floats towards him before you reach his side in body.

Hand coming into view grabbing for the container to toss it out. But Dean’s quicker, “If you value your life, you’ll unhand my pie,” thick fingers circle your wrist pulling your plush body down beside him. “It’s not nice to steal a man’s pie woman,” keeping his tone light, playful and away from the looming fate he knows will visit upon his person once you figure out Will is the man you truly want. Deserving of your light, and laughter, the sweetness, of your beauty that Dean only hopes the other man will appreciate.

Gasping in mock outrage, “Who me?” Hand to heart trying to keep the laughter from your tone. “I would never deprive you of pie Deano. But I would that slice since I think it’s become a science experiment.”

Narrowing his eyes towards the offending sweet dessert, “It is not.” Poking twice before pulling the pie forward for a closer inspection. Musical laughter meeting his ears, smothering the smirk threatening to bloom over his lips. “Okay so maybe your right,” turning his pouting face towards you.

“Course I am,” giving him a wink then standing to toss the ruined sweets out. Pausing by the panty, you peek in unaware Dean’s watching you from his seat.

Teasing sway to your generous hips has his eyes tracking every movement. Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at how temping you look. Thick thighs encased in blue denim jeans feet bare from wearing those steal toed Dr. Martins during hunts. Body stretching upwards, soft cotton baby blue tank top riding up to bare a silver of delicate skin to his eyes. Your fingers barely snag the sugar container’s edge, pulling it down to clasp against your ample chest.

Chastising himself for the erotic thoughts flipping through his mind on a single film reel. “What exactly are you doing sweetheart?” Carefully keeping his lower half away from your line of sight. Lest you find out the problem currently tenting his jeans, teeth gritting to stop himself from acting on all those thoughts.

“Never you mind Dean Winchester,” tossing over your shoulder, checking for vanilla extract, light syrup, and butter from the fridge. Last stop the freezer mentally trying to remember if you there's a pie shell left or would need to make one. Hoping for at least a single, since checking the flour stock and coming up almost empty. “Start a list for me please and put flour on it,” setting the three ingredients in your hands down. Turning back to open the metal door to peer into the freeze, swaying slighting to a song running through your head. A triumphant “Yes,” exists your lips, a little dance of excitement upon finding the last shell.

Damn near swallowing his tongue so entranced by your movements gulping different words back down to keep from making a total fool of himself. As he utters, “Not till I know exactly what your making over there Betty Crocker.”

“Resorting to blackmail now?” Brow arched, unconsciously licking your lips slowly. Unaware of Dean watching the path it takes across your pump bottom lip, tucking it between indenting teeth.

For distraction purposes, Dean pulls his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. Bringing up the list app a suggestion to simplify things you gave him months back. Forcing himself to focus on the small screen in his hands instead of the woman currently dancing around the kitchen. Pulling bowls, pots and pans out, one chance glance has an inaudible groan vibrating through his chest at the sight of your plush ass. Bent over shifting through sheet pans knowing which you look for as arousal flares to life so potent Dean turns quickly hiding his reacting. Planting his face in the palms of his hands, elbows bent to catch the weight. Fingers digging into eye sockets to use the pain and banish the thoughts from reappearing.

Frowning at his actions you come over after putting the pan on the counter. Fingers running through his hair, scraping the scalp with short nails. Pleased smile at the groan you pull from his lips as he rubs his head into your palm like a little puppy. “Something wrong Dean?” Worry dancing through the cadence of your voice other hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Fine,” head popping up, forcing your fingers to slide out of his hair. Taking a chance to glance up into your worried eyes. Underserving of your soft touch searing his skin. An itch to run from our presence skitters across his veins. “I’m fine sweetheart just tired.”

Searching his face, those whiskey flecked green eyes so unlike the blue-greens of Will’s, catching something hiding in those deep depths he’s trying to hide. Never fooled by words, always inspecting his actions and those little tells partially concealed though you know them all too well. “You’re covering something up Winchester I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” patting his cheek and stepping away.

‘I don’t want you to go on that date,’ on the tip of his tongue poised to leave his lips he keeps smashed together burying those feelings to not ruin this chance you have at an apple pie life. The very thought tears his heart, rendering another hole in the punched out organ. Though it’s his own fault for giving you a million reasons to keep that boundary line in place. Tip toeing almost across a few times, but always toeing the line keeping himself in check. Head snapping around when something hard hits the back of his head, scowl in place though it’s more playful than menacing. “Did you just…” glancing towards the floor to find a lone pecan on the ground behind him. Head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed on your face, which is the total opposite of his holding a sweetly innocent look concealing the trouble he knows you’ll cause. “Seriously a pecan? That could’ve done damage Babe Ruth.”

Eyes rolling, snort issuing from your up turned lips, “I don’t know what you speak of Dean I’m just here making a pie minding my own business. Can’t help it if a pecan has it out for you.”

“Possessed it must be,” voice pitched in a poor imitation of Master Yoda, getting a boo hiss from your general direction. “Though something tells me a certain someone threw the poor helpless nut.”

Shrugging, face neutral a picture of indifference with hands on your wide hips ingredients spread out over the counter. “Stop calling yourself names Dean it’s not nice.” Bottom lip trapped for a second to keep from giggling at the way he’s looking towards you.

Enjoying this moment of normalcy you’ve managed to capture in these dark and dangerous times. Thoughts skittering towards Will, if he’s able to put up with the hunters life style? Former Marine, Will knows so little of what truly goes bump in the night making you worry he wouldn’t feel at ease. It’s the reason you’ve hesitated each time he’s asked you out. Not wanting to drag someone else into a life of blood and death. Persistence and patience paid off when you finally agreed on a dinner date for tomorrow night. One your actually looking forward to.

But then you glance towards Dean, seeing the smile grace those soft looking lips, shinning in his whiskey flecked green orbs for the first time in months and you hesitate. Would you want to leave this life for a man who wouldn’t understand you not fully anyway? Or stay and remain the best friend till a hunt takes one of you out? Could you truly leave your home with the Winchesters, with Dean?

His voice breaks through the your thoughts, ruthful chuckle echoing through the room, “Haha sweetheart stop trying to be John Candy it ain’t workin for ya,” bending to scoop up the tossed nut a memory filters through his mind. Opening a wound he thought long since closed over soaked in whiskey and women who’s names he’s forgotten. Shaking the thought away to ask, “You gonna chunk a nut at your boyfriend tomorrow night too? Or is that reserved for me?”

Not sure why he’s even asking or teasing you about it or the fact there’s a bite to the tone. He shouldn’t care about a simple date, yet the thought twists his gut smile slipping from his lips as he looks down at the pecan in hand. Unwillingly letting those images fill and play before his eyes.

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills

If you could find a dry way, I'd forever be still

But you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

December 2011

Run down two room shack a nicer way of putting it truly, you think while pulling up outside next to Baby’s sleek black side. Hands gripping the steer wheel till knuckles hurt and you can focus again through the haze of tears spilling down your cold cheeks. Still trying to grasp the fact Bobby Singer legendary hunter, go to lore man, and surrogate father, dead by a bullet from Dick Roman’s gun. Itching for vengeance you try to quell for another time when you can let all the anger out. For right now you knew he needed you more than any strategy planning or revenge thought.

Remembering Sam’s voice shaking, laced with pain, peppered with rage but above all coated in sadness you could hear over the phone lines. Never hesitating to drop the case — for now — breaking speed limit in the need to reunite with your boys. You’d do anything for family even those who weren’t by blood. Learning a long time ago that family doesn’t end with the DNA flowing through your veins.

Shaking those thoughts from your mind and existing the car only to lean back in and grab the bags from the passenger side. Standing to full height to peer over the top locking eyes with those anger clouded greens. “No I didn’t bring you anything Winchester so don’t bother asking.” Trying to lighten the situation with poorly used humor.

Words fail to leave thinned lips as you pass by, hand holding the creaking barely held together door open for you. Following behind his voice scratchy from no use, “Sam call you?”

“Of course silly why wouldn’t he?” Placing the bags on what could pass for a pile of rubble instead of an island countertop. Turning to face him cataloging each feature, the stone set of his jaw, shoulders tight with tension, eyes those beautiful normally vibrate whiskey flecked greens mute with anguish he tries to hide.

Shrugging, shoulders dropping forward with no will to keep them up, “He shouldn’t have your needed else where Y/N.”

“Bullshit Winchester,” moving with purpose to stand in his personal space. “Bobby was just as much a father to me as to you. There’s no other place I’d rather be than here, for a different reason yes but I’m not leaving so suck it up buttercup.”

Catching the flash of anger tinging the deep greens whether directed at you or himself you’re not sure. “We already salted and burned his body, there’s no reason for you to stay.” Turning away from your softening eyes knowing your going to try and reason with him. Make him see he’s not responsible for what happened.

“I know,” two simple words make him pause and turn back. “I didn’t come to say goodbye to Bobby, I came for you.” Taking one step closer arms wrapping around his slumped shoulders bringing him into the shelter of your embrace. Steady hands running the length of his stiff back, imparting your warm, trying to give comfort knowing he’s unaccepting of such sympathies.

Brows furrowing, frown tipping his lips downward, fists clinching at his sides, Dean tries to keep himself from giving into the solace he so easily could find in your embrace. Warmth sinking into his skin through the layers of clothing he wears, tingling his skin, quickening his pulse.“Why?”

“You need me, your not listening to Sam or Castiel talking about going off to track Roman down yourself,” spitting the Leviathan’s name out like chewed to long gum. Head resting against his strong chest feeling the slightly erratic beat of his heart against your ear.

Back stiffening, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do Y/N I can make that decision on my own.” Low growl rattling through his chest as he pulls from your arms and steps from the warmth evaporating from his body. “You should leave.”

“And get yourself killed?” Hands slamming to your wide hips glaring daggers at your best friend. “What happened wasn’t your fault Dean. Any one of us could’ve taken that bullet, Bobby knew the risks of the mission, accepted them and died…” swallowing the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. “A hero,” ignoring his last words, reaching out to try and take his hand only to have him pull away like you’ve burned him.

“Don’t, don’t try to reason this with me I know better,” turning his back to head for the wall covered in papers trying to figure out just what Dick Roman’s up too.

Shaking your head knowing he’s hurting but not wanting to voice those feelings, to make him appear weak. With a sigh leaving your frowning lips you move silently beside him looking over the wall of weird trying to piece together how everything connects. Brushing your hand against his, pinkie trailing to catch what you think is his forefinger. Wrapping the little finger tightly around his you lean over, “I’m right here when you’re ready Dean, I’m not leaving nor letting go.”

“You should,” not bothering to turn and face you. Memories of Lisa and Ben filter through his thoughts along with Bobby, his father and what he can remember of his mother. “I’m poison and get everyone around me killed.” He doesn’t want to add you to the growing list. Rather wanting you to leave and find a different path for your life.

Tugging on his finger to wrap the middle and forefinger with your ring and pinkie fingers, “Then Sam and I are the antidote to your poison.” Giving a soft sad smile to his side profile, wrapping him up into your arms. Resting your head on his shoulder, voice a gentle whisper of breath upon his cheek and neck,“Those reasons keep tallying up Winchester we’ll hit a million before long.”

Reminding you both of a long ago discussion between the two of you in Bobby’s junk yard while still teenagers. Before angels and demons, vampires thought long dead and ancient Leviathan brought back from the pit of purgatory. When you made the packed to never fall for each other and always remain best friends. To never let go no matter how dire the situation, you’d have each other’s back.

Evaporating memories of long ago, you speak softly still resting your head on his shoulder. “You work on this mosaic of papers you have plastered over the walls. I have a pie to bake,” not giving it much thought you quickly press a kiss to his stubbled cheek then turn to head back towards the passable kitchen area.

Tingles dance over his skin for longer than he wishes, wanting to suppress those feelings bubbling up to try and consume him. Thinking he could bury them under the mounting pain and self hated. Yet, the warmth of your arms, soft press of your lips, your words register and sink into his brain Dean turns to watch you work unable stop a few of those feelings from dancing around his heart. Single thought shocking him in its stark contradiction to his current state of mind, Dean Winchester self proclaimed ladies man has fallen in love with his best friend. A sucker punch to the gut making him gasp and reel that silent declaration in. Stuffing it under the right full emotions of anger and pain. Letting them tap dance through his veins instead, something much safer for the both of them. Something he could understand and deal with.

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

To cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But, baby, I just need one good one to stay

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare

It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware

'Cause you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

“He’s not my boyfriend yet Dean,” eyes rolling as you turn to melt the butter in a small sauce pan. Though there is a part of you wishing he could one day fill the role unless a single good reason can change your mind comes your way.

“But you want him too?” Words muttered through presses together teeth. Hating the fact he’s letting something so trivial effect him in such a way. You’ve had other boyfriends, one night stands he’s had to sit through yet this one feels different. As if he could truly loose you this time and those thoughts scare the shit outta him the most. Because yes you’re his best friend for longer than he can remember but above that you’re the woman who gets him, argues with him, sets his ass straight when he’s being stupid and above all or so he hopes, loves him warts and all.

Hands pause at his question looking into the melting golden liquid bubbling silently remembering to flick the tiny knob and turn the heat off. While your head screams to say yes but it’s a little small voice beating quickly beneath your ribcage making you pause. Clearing your throat to gather what thoughts you could from their scattered places. You’ve always spoke with honesty to Dean, unless circumstances dictated other wise, and you weren’t about to change now. Through you wouldn’t turn to face him when you did wanting to keep from seeing his eyes. Finding the reason for his questions in those green depths you’ve fallen for though never spoken the feelings. “Yes, he could…” swallowing to coat your dry throat to spit out the words rotting your stomach. “I could have a chance at happiness with Will, Dean. Why do you even ask?”

“I don’t want to loose you,” ‘Because I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue to tell you, give voice and life to his true feelings. Wanting you to stay and forget about those million other reasons he’s let slip between the cracks in your relationship.

Frozen in place, hands gripping the countertop beside the stove. “You wouldn’t loose me Dean I’d still go on hunts with you, I’d stick around,” lies tasting bitter on your tongue, heart beating triple time wondering if he’ll pick up on the dishonesty your speaking. Always feeling he’d never see you as anything other than his best friend. Never the type of woman to draw his attention, too soft and plush in places most men wouldn’t want and you didn’t pine for a man who’s given you a million reasons to walk away. So you shoved those feelings, the love you held back trying to make it work with other men. To find the one who’d surpass Dean destroying your feelings for the green eyed hunter, giving you the one reason to stay and belong. So why now did he have to put doubts in your mind? Why ask these questions when in years past he’d brush other men away as nothing more than a passing fancy?

Silently Dean stands slowly making his way towards you, taking in the ridged stance of your plush form. Hands itch to wrap around your thick waist and haul you against his chest. Pausing right beside you, brushing his fingers against yours too hook what he thinks is your forefinger with his pinkie. “You and I both know things wouldn’t stay the same between us sweetheart. He’d find a way to take you away from me,” praying you won’t pull away Dean turns to stare at your profile. Taking in the beauty he’s catalogued thousands of times, the curve of your lips when you smile, slope of your nose, eyes bright with laughter or spiting fire when angry usually at him. Softness of your cheeks under his palms the times he’s actually got to cup and caress the skin.

“We’ll remain best friends Dean that’ll never change,” gathering the courage to turn and look into his eyes. Catching the sadness coating those beloved greens making your heart ache. Tongue slipping out to tug back your bottom lip between your teeth indented them to keep from asking the question your heart demands.

Of its own accord Dean’s free hand comes up to brush over your cheek, cupping the soft skin, fingers spread from apple to jaw wanting so badly to draw you in and kiss those tempting lips. “I want you happy Y/N and if it’s possible out of this life, been wanting that for you since Bobby,” sliding his hand to your chin to pinch the end with his thumb and forefinger tipping your face up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll miss you sweetheart.”

Eyes lock with stormy greens after he pulls back, soft gasp parting your lips at the simple touch, words sounding like a goodbye instead of their usual see ya later. Grappling for words to say, questions to ask, trying to figure out what’s going on, and why now. But he’s gone before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and your turning to rush after, seeing his back disappear around the corner.

Feet finally responding to command as you quickly follow stopping at the doorway, “Give me one good reason.” Praying he’ll listen and stop, hoping it’s not too late. “Stop giving me all these reasons to leave.”

Back ridged but his mind a flurry of thoughts and answers, more questions than he could shake a stick at. Only one reason comes to mind, “Good reason to what?”

Traveling the short distance to take his hand intertwining your fingers with his, needing him to turn around and look at you. Needing the connection while stating, “Give me a good reason to stay Dean to not go tomorrow night.”

“I can’t,” partly wanting to flinch from your touch, to tug his hand free, and partly wanting to sink into your familiar embrace. Soak in the peace he always finds in your arms, to bath in your warmth and possibly bask in your love. But Dean wouldn’t be selfish he’d let you go even if it meant killing his own heart and soul.

The urge to punch him grows strong but your refrain from using violence, “Why not? Too scared? Or you just don’t care?”

The warmth of your hand disappears from searing into his palm, tingling those long nimble fingers, his eyes close knowing you’re walking away because of that millionth reason. Till the first brush of soft fingers tender in there touch upon his cheek. He gives in to the urge and rubs his slightly stubbled cheek into your palm. “If that’s you Sam, I’m gonna kick your ass dude,” ignoring your questions in favor of basking in your touch instead. Hearing the soft giggle from your lips brings a smile to his own. Eyes finally opening too stare into yours, almost doing a doubt take at what he sees in those beloved depths. “I don’t deserve you Y/N.”

“Stop giving me a million reasons Dean and give me the one that’ll make me stay,” imploring him with your touch, fingers tracing over his cheeks and jaw. Tracing his plush bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, “I just need one good reason.”

He’d find the situation funny if it’s anyone else standing in front asking the same question. Even Sam would get a chuckle from his lips, but you, his breath freezes, heart thumping wildly in equal measures of terror and excitement. The very thoughts running unrestrained in his mind scare the shit out of him, but only one truly feels right. Snaking an arm around your thick waist pulling you against his strong chest, fitting like missing puzzle pieces. His free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I love you.”

Tears slip from their ducts barely held back till those three simple words spill from his mouth jump starting your heart and sending your emotions swirling. Warm palms cradle your wet cheeks, gun callused thumbs brush hot tears away, you spy the worry and fear your non response sparks. “Do you mean it?” Wanting clarification before handing your heart over to the very man who’s held it for so long.

Knowing what your asking Dean stops waiting and lowers his mouth to yours. That first touch of lips electricity shoots through you veins. Body responding quicker with arms going around his neck to pull him firmly against you not a wisp of space between your bodies. Fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of his head while you slot your lips against his. Demanding and deep, a tangled dance of tongues. Clashing of teeth, a melding mouths and finding the right angles to draw those delicious moans from each of you. Till air becomes necessary and you break apart panting, “That answer your question sweetheart?”

“No,” smirking when his eyes narrow, “I wanna hear it again.”

No hesitation in speaking those three words, “I love you.” Groaning when your lips smash back to his. Stealing breath from his lungs and a moan from his chest, Dean walks you backward till your pressed against the cool tile wall. Lower pelvis holding your soft body in place so his hands can dance over your cotton covered plush form. Palm’s flat against your thick waist, slowly dragging them around and down to cup your generous ass. Squeezing firmly and making you gasp.

Using the opening as a way to work his tongue back into your mouth, delving in for another taste of your sweetness. Low groan existing when rearranging his mouth to fit differently and snag a gulp of air. Stubble abrading your chin in the most spectacular of ways. Pooling heat low in your belly and making your mind wander in other more salacious directions. Brought back from teetering on the deliciously desirable edge by a sharp bite, his teeth nabbing your bottom lip to tug, letting go with a wet pop. Breath fanning out over your heated cheeks. Eyes once closed now open and locked with yours a pleading undertone to the desire darkened greens.

Knowing what he wants to hear and unable to wait along, “I love you too Dean.” Heart bursting with unrestrained joy flooding your system and making you love drunk.

“Thank fucking God,” groaning, resting your foreheads together still trying to reign in the wild thumping of his heart. Your admission only serves to make the largest muscle spasm quicker. All his pent up emotions, desires and needs flowing to the surface, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from rushing into something too fast. Remembering it’s still fresh and new between the two of you a different path to the relationship already established in friendship.

Giggling softly, you cup both his cheeks, thumbs brushing along his skin, three days worth of stubble abrading your palms. “So,” teasing smirk pulling at your lips, “I better call Will huh?”

“For?” Trying to keep the bitter growl from escaping and giving away his feelings on the sore subject. Tugging your soft body back in place from your wiggles to side free, not ready to let you go just yet.

Sliding one hand down his chest to rest where you know his anti-possession tattoo resides. Tracing the edges with the tip of your finger over the black t-shirt he’s wearing, locking eyes with his, “Seems I’m a taken woman. Wouldn’t want to lead the poor guy on now would I?” Watching how those whiskey flecked greens darken, pushing his lower body deeper into your plush form. Barely heard as you try not to give away the whimper of need his body produces in your own, with his pressed so tightly. Cool concrete keeping you body temp from over heating for the moment.

“No,” clearing his throat leaning in to draw his nose over your jawline. Touring towards your ear, catching the lobe between his front teeth to tug. Low desire filled growl leaving his lips, followed by, “Tomorrow is another day sweetheart and right now you’ve got better things to do.”

Heading tipping over granting access to the parts of your neck he wants, trying to keep the shiver from rolling over your body. Heat flooding your veins sparking a need you’ve never felt with any of the other men you’d previously had relations with. “What,” licking your parched lips, “what better things Dean?” Praying it’s the same idea rolling around your head for the longest time.

Pausing in his mapping of your neck and shoulder with his lips, Dean raises his head to spear you with a heated look. “Me for starters sweetheart, that is of course…” uneasiness has him trailing off the first time in his life. The bitter taste of uncertainty coating his thoughts for a fraction of a second before your lips land back on his.

Teasingly soft presses, little ghost touches of your tongue, playfully dotting his cheeks, chin and forehead with your lips before brushing close to his ear. “Hey Dean,” smiling against his skin, tenderly pressing your lips just south of his ear. Nibbling the found patch of sensitive skin behind committing the spot to memory for later. Breath puffing out quicker feeling him shiver, knowing what the next words would invoke in Dean and his love for the movie. “You big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” sultry tone added to the cadence.

His eyes close for a moment, heart swelling as you recite the words to one of his favorite movies. Marveling at the fact you’ve remembered the lines perfectly and Dean falls deeper in love with you if that’s possible.

The gentle caresses of your lips against his skin setting fire to his nerve endings, room in his jeans becoming a hot commodity as his shaft thickens and throbs. Finding the distraction almost too much while trying to recall the next line. Teasing giggles reach his ears that he replies to with a deep chuckle. Words coming back to him, “Show me the way home, honey.”

Reaching down to tug one hand from your ass, chuckling with a shake of your head when it doesn’t budge but squeezes the generous globe. Notching himself tighter into your body, smirk appearing as your eyes widen, gasp issuing from parted lips. Bitting the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling before the words can escape. “Is that a pickle in your pocket or you just happy to see me?”

“Oh sweetheart it’s a great big dill I can show ya,” flashing a smirk, both of you trying hard not to laugh.

“Preferably,” deep voice tinged with slight offense but liberally coated in amusement. “In your own room so the both of you aren’t bare ass naked in the hallway bumping like bunnies,” having rounded the corner towards the kitchen and catching the intimate embrace. “A vision I don’t want branded into my skull thank you very much,” Sam paused arms crossed in annoyance. Golden dotted green eyes dancing with mirth, catching the playfully scandalous expression cross your features. Glancing towards Dean who buries his face in your neck getting a deep chuckle from his brother.

Try as you might to keep from busting out laughing they just rolled out of your mouth as your eyes lock with Sam’s. Acting stoic but the smile tugging at his lips and the teasing flash through his eyes speak a different story. Only thing holding you up is Dean’s body still pressed heavily against your. The man in question glancing up first to look at you then over his shoulder towards Sam. “Don’t even start Sammy,” grumbling good-naturedly giving him a middle finger salute and the opening you need to slip from between his hard body and the wall. Teasing growl rumbling through his chest at the loss of your warmth. Dean reaches out to snag your arm but you manage to dance out of his reach, giggles echoing off the walls trailing behind your disappearing form.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Dean but Cas owes me fifty bucks,” patent Sam Winchester smirk sliding over his lips. Brow raised at his scoff, “Can’t believe I had a betting pot going?”

Watching you run off happy grin tipping his mouth upward, he looks back at Sam grin still in place. “Just can’t believe it’s with Cas. Rowena maybe, Jody, Claire, Alex and Donna fuck yes but Cas,” incredulous look stealing over his features for a few moments.

“Who say’s the bet’s not bigger than you think,” broad shoulders shrugging same smirk in place, Sam enters the kitchen on that note leaving Dean to stare wide eyed after his baby brother. “Matter of time, always just a matter of time,” laughter tinged voice exists the kitchen, unseen shake of his head at the mess left behind.

Stock still for a fraction of a second till soft giggles echo quietly down the hall, grin turning into full blown smile. Need rushing back through his veins in remembrance of your position just a few short moments ago. Low curse existing his mouth, Dean turns racing off to find which room you’re hiding in.

Nerves tingled through your body, worry interrupting thoughts/memories of short minutes ago. Hard press of his body against yours, warm moist breath fanning out over your skin sending tingles of a different kind to skitter across your veins. But now standing in Dean’s room trying to figure out where to lay or stand that would invoke images of sensuality. You look down at your bare feet toes wiggling against cold concrete. Up wards to thick jeans clad thighs, a baby blue tank top covering your torso, self consciousness went out the window decades ago. After the first serious injuries you suffered at the hands of a vengeful spirit had you damn near stripped naked in front of Dean. Confidence in face of adversity knowing he’s the only one for miles around to patch you up.

Now though is different, same confidence but wishing for sexier clothing something to entice and tease. Small snort issues from the depths of your body knowing damn well you had nothing of the sort in your possession. Flannels, tank tops, t-shirts and jeans hunter’s required staples along with the functional under garments you groan at remembering are mismatched at the present.

“Beautiful even in those rumpled clothing,” deep voice breaking through thoughts and making a squeak sound as you quickly turn to face the lazily leaning against the door jam hunter. Arms crossed over muscular chest, biceps straining the black t-shirt’s sleeves, “I meant what I said before Sammy interrupted us.”

Tugging your bottom lip back under indented top teeth turning to face him fully, “Which part?” Barely keeping the mirth from bubbling over, “That I should show you the way home or you have a big dill?” Easy going banter calming your nerves even the part about feeling ill-prepared clothing wise.

Tender infused whiskey fleck green eyes turn molten with each sweep of your body. “I love you,” words escape as eyes stay locked, Dean pushing away from the doorway. Booted foot catching the hardwood door and slamming it shut behind him. Stocking towards you as a lion would his prey, licking parched lips wanting to devour you. Hands fisting at his side though to keep from reaching out and doing just that incase it’s something your not ready for.

His breath froze upon seeing you walking around his room, something akin to relief floods his veins along with a sense of rightness. Sure you’ve come in hundreds of times to wake him from a nightmare or mornings, to barrow music and to talk. Yet, this time feels different giving your relationship changed moments ago. Catching the indecision clearly written in those beloved eyes that don’t focus on one place too long. For a moment Dean wishes he could read your thoughts but then having hunted and lived together for decades he picked up the situation and cues without having to know your thoughts.

Pleased hum breaks Dean from the wondering trail his thoughts took him on to spy the sweet smile gracing your lips. Hands positioned on your hips one cocked to the side as you stand there waiting expectedly. Restraining himself, Dean opens his palms to bring them up and cup your cheeks dragging you against him. Lips meeting in the tenderest of kisses that he keeps in place while speaking, “You want this, want me?”

Recognizing his vulnerability and what he’s asking with those simple words, arms wrap around his back fisting the shirt tightly to press the two of you together. Love saturated eyes burn into those greens you could drown in, “That’s my question Winchester stop stealing my lines.” Flattening one palm to slide up and into his hair. Pressing another kiss to his soft lips you’ve only imaged kissing till now. The reality so much better than any fantasy you ever came up with.

“Calling me a thief now sweetheart?” Using jokes to cover the fact he’s searching for the right words. Flustered and frustration slither through his veins in a combination Dean’s not accustom, words stammering of unintelligible nature tumble from his mouth. The feel of your blunt nails sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

Nodding, craning your neck back a few inches but keeping your eyes locked, “You stole my lines and my heart Dean so yes that would make you a thief.” Hand sliding over his back now and settling into the back pocket of his jeans, “I also meant what I said back there.” Catching the cocked brow you elaborate, “Take me to bed Dean I’m tired of waiting, I want to know how it feels to have you inside me.”

Soft groan issues from parted lips. Wanting to act on your words so damn badly his body vibrates with barely contained desire. Forehead coming to rest against yours, strong hands sliding too loosely wrap around and caress your neck. “You know I’m not great at relationships. I could seriously fuck things up.”

“I know but then so could I,” any doubts or insecurities evaporating into the ether with every look.

Callused fingers brush over your bare shoulders sending sensual shivers cascading down your body. Rubbing your thighs together for added friction with the heated look Dean’s fixing you with. Boosting your confidence to step back his hands drop to the side as you own pinch at the hem of your tank top. Slowly pulling it from your body, letting it drop with a barely heard whisper.

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” resolve snapping, reaching for your hips and tugging you back against him harder than intended. Lips sealing quickly to swallow the gasp existed parted lips Dean takes advantage of and slips his tongue inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, it’s all teeth and tongues, fighting desperately for dominance. Pulling groans from the depths of Dean’s soul as he pulls whimpers and moans from your own. Till air becomes needed though it doesn’t stop your mouth from trailing a hot path across his stubbled jaw. Nibbling towards that little patch behind his ear to flick the tip of your tongue against. Smirking at the shutter rolling through his body, fingers dancing a rhythm over his shirt covered torso. Hem reached you tug twice to which he nods reaching behind him grasping and pulling the garment off to join yours.

Hands, palms flat immediately going to ghost over his rippling tummy. Muscle covered soften causing all moisture to pool south, clit throbbing almost painfully. Sure you’ve seen him bare chested before this time it’s different. For pleasure instead of patching him up. Drawing desired groans rather than pain filled. “I know Sam would abject but I so wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around shirtless.”

Full belly chuckle leaves Dean’s lips, “Sweetheart don’t talk about other men right now especially not my brother.” Possessive hands landing on your naked plush waist, fingers spanning the distance and gripping the flesh in his palm. Dreams having nothing on the real woman in his palms.

“Just stating facts sir nothing more,” trailing your fingers over the slightly hair roughen skin. Brushing pebbled nipples from the cool air and your proximity. Reserving a gasp when you lean forward to lap with the tip of our tongue and nip at the peaked point. Glancing to lock eyes as you switch and give the same attention to its twin giving the same attention getting a hiss from your actions. Dragging you lips upward to trace his tattoo with kisses.

Molten green eyes drinking in the sight of your lips on his skin, shooting desire straight to his cock. Throbbing need demanding attention no matter how good your soft lips feel against his body. “Baby girl,” groaning at the nip you place, eyes close to compose himself. Flying open as air cool brushes his skin inside of the shared heat of both your bodies. Mesmerized by the way you reach back to unclasp your bra, pushing your lushes breasts out teasing his vision, salivating for a taste of your skin.

He steps forward crowding into your space backing you into the bed till the back of your calves hit the edge. Wrapping his arms around your plush form to brush hands away and do the task himself. Finger tips skimming the edges of both straps till reaching the top at your shoulders and drawing them down. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while pulling the garment from your pliant body tossing it behind him. Eyes flicking down on a groan, licking his dry lips at the beauty displayed for his ravenous gaze.

“Lay down for me sweetheart,” meeting your lust blown orbs with his own. “I wanna see you in my bed,” biting off a whimper when you drop onto the edge. Bountiful breasts bouncing teasingly as he watches you slide backwards towards the head board. Hands going to the button of your jeans, low growl pausing your nimble fingers. “That’s for me to do baby girl, just,” swallowing harshly as he looks you over. Partially naked spread out over his bed picture perfect memory for those times when the darkness tries to steal this happiness. “Give me a moment to drink you in.” Unable to decide where to look first, “So fucking gorgeous.” Toeing off his boots, hands going to his own jeans your shaking head pausing the movements.

“I get the same pleasure,” licking your lips slowly while raising up on your elbows. Beckoning him with two crooked fingers, hand resting with the palms up beside your plush body, “Get up here before I get impatience and take matters into my own hands.”

Declaration making him pause a moment low growl rumbling from deep with in his chest. As desire blown green meet yours, smirk gracing his handsome features. One knee comes to rest on the mattress Dean leans forward keeping eyes locked while pressing a kiss to your ankle. Grinning, feeling the quiver that runs through your body. “You wouldn’t dare sweetheart,” adding his other knee to spread your legs and slowly fit his body between.

“Shall we make a bet Winchester?” Using your free foot to brushing the nearest thigh with the flat. Sliding towards the very noticeable bulge busting the seams of his jeans, toes teasing the thick ridge before pressing the flat of your foot against him. Rubbing the length slowly pleased when a growl echos the room.

Grabbing that foot tickling the pad enjoying the way you squirm and giggle. Taking the opportunity to move fully between your legs. “About that bet hum,” fingertips drawing an invisible path of fire down the middle your body. Bracing then both arms on either side of your shoulders hovering over you, warm breath fanning out over your cheek he nuzzles with stubbled chin. Pulling a whimper from your gasping lips.

Of there own accord, your hands slide up the strength of his arms and biceps to clasping fingers together around the back of his neck. Left leg draped over his waist to pull him against your pelvis, breathless moan parting your lips at the contact of his hard length pressing into your dripping center. “I don’t want slow or gentle Dean,” head tipping back to give access to his questing lips that find your wildly thumping pulse, sucking a mark into the soft skin. “We have all night for that I just…” words caught upon seeing whiskey flecked green eyes dilated almost pitch with desire. Cheshire Cat grin tugging kiss swollen lips upward.

“Just what sweetheart?” Humming, brushing your lips together before returning to his last spot. One hand dragging over your soft body cupping the generous globe massaging gently feeling the nipple peak against his palm. Teasingly circling the stiff nub with the tip of his index finger before giving a sharp pinch and making you gasp out. Back arching at the pleasurable pain skittering across your veins.

Grasping what’s left of your mind to try and form coherent words, body responding instead pressing your chest into his large hand. Nails score down his back, one completing the journey to give his ass a tight squeeze. As the other detours to between your intimately pressed body. Happy to find enough space to slot your palm against his erection, cupping his throbbing length and giving short little strokes. Smile blooming with a breathless groan against your collarbone where Dean’s forehead currently rests. Nimble fingers pop the small metal disk, pulling the zipper tab down to slip the hand inside. Warmth enveloping palm feeling him twitch has you slowly licking your lips at the mire thought of getting to taste him.

“You’re killing me Y/N,” rutting his hips into your hand, mouth coming back to claim yours in a punishingly bruising kill. Tangling your tongues together, nipping a little harder on your bottom lip than meaning to but the accompanying moan flows straight to his cock. Making him twitch against your palm that has slowed with the distraction of the kiss.

Breaking for air, panting while trying to form and speak the right words, “We’re both a little over dressed Dean.” Pulling your hand from the tight confines of his jeans, using the one at his ass to help pull them and his boxers down only stopping when you couldn’t reach anything passed his knees. Sigh of relief exists his parted lips making you giggle and press a kiss to his chin. “Feel better?” Bottom lip trapped and nibbled on as your fingers brush his length. Finding your fingers barely wrap around the girth while to stroke, palm sliding over precum leaking head. Hips thrust forward at the sensations tingling down his back gathering low in his belly.

“Now who’s over dressed?” Mumbling the words against your skin. Dean regretfully brushes your hand aside grinning at the annoyed huff that leaves your lips. “Ah sweetheart put that sexy pout away you’ll get a chance to taste me soon enough. Cause if you keep using that soft hand on my cock I’ll cum faster than I want.”

His words presenting so many thoughts to run through your mind only cut off when wet warm heat engulfs your right nipple. Tongue flicking quickly over taut peak, blunt teeth nipping then soothing over with the tip of his tongue. Switching to the twin leaving both sloppy wet and tight, gleaming in the low light of his room. Worshipping at the temple of your body with kisses pressed into your tummy, running scared callused hands over your skin in silent reverence. Eyes taking in very inch Dean sits back on his knees between your parted legs. Tracing his knuckles along the seam of your jeans covered cunt, making you jolt against him.

Pausing to strip your jeans and panties from your body, tossing them and kicking his own off to land somewhere on the floor. Raising up on elbows to finally get a chance to look at him in all his naked glory. Tracing each divot of scars over a broad chest, passing over the middle to admire thick bowed legs spread wide. Lips licked slowly upon landing on his ridge cock, slightly curved and resting against his lower belly. Palm itching for a touch, mouth watering for that taste. “You’re beautiful Dean,” words whispered so low your unsure if he’s really heard them.

Heat blooms over his cheeks at your admission, looking your fill of his adonis body. Dean returns the admiration. Tracing the features of your beloved face, staring a little too long at your heaving breasts, soft tummy he wants to nibble on at some point. Thick thighs he can’t wait to have wrapped around his waist once he’s buried deep inside your wet heat. The very though has his eyes dropping between your parted legs, glistening folds beckoning him forward. Caught in that tempting trance, Dean slides back between your legs. Brushing his lips just above your mound and receiving a whimper from you. Locking eyes, “I think you got that backwards sweetheart, it’s you who’s beautiful.” Dipping to run the thick flat of his tongue through your folds, humming at the tangy sweetness exploding over his taste buds.

Hips cantering against his mouth, your own letting a deep moan free as one hand slides down to card through his short brown locks. Tugging the strands getting a groan to vibrate against your cunt while his talented tongue dances through your soaked folds. Torturing your clit with ghosted touches, one arm wraps around our thigh spreading you open. As the other slips a finger inside your wet channel, finding you squeezing and tight, garnering a deep groan of arousal from the man between your lips.

“Dean,” voice wrecked and he’s barely touched you. When he doesn’t answer or budge from his sensual assault on your cunt. Lips having formed a perfect O around your clit, tongue flicking kitten licks to the tiny nerve filled nub. Pleased with he whimpers and whines that filter through his desire filled mind.

Resulting in you tugging on his hair harder, back arching as a small shock rocks through your body, tingling your belly when he bites carefully on your clit. “Dean please,” eyes rolling back into your head at the added second finger. Crooked and pressing into the little spongy spot you’ve never had anyone touch. Ripping a half scream from the hidden depths of your soul.

Smug smirk tugging over slick wet lips, stubbled chin coming to rest just above your mound. Watching as you heave a breath, breasts catching his eyes for a moment till you tug again. Fingers anything but still as they thrust and scissor you open, working you carefully to fit his slightly above average length not wanting to hurt you. “Yes sweetheart?” Licking his lips from your slick.

Free hand coming up to cover your heated face, “Don’t sound so smug,” gasping the last word when his thumb brushes over your clit making you jump and wither. Heat spreading from that special spot in your belly, where the tight coil starts to wind higher. Thick thighs tremble with each sensation Dean draws out of you. “Need you, please, please.”

Caressing your quivering walls with the gun callused pads of his fingers, massaging your clit as you plead. Breath chocked out on another moan, chest heavy, heat coating your skin as you wither under him. “Ah but I can’t help myself sweetheart you don’t know what seeing you like this does to me.”

Gathering what little strength you have in your limbs to reach down and cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over the skin under his eyes. “Why don’t you get up here and show me Dean?” Voice wreaked yet a tender undertone rides through the cadence.

Pressing a single kiss to the pulsing little clit, giving once last flick making your squirm and Dean to chuckle. Slowly pulling his fingers out, stroking twice more your hips chasing the indescribable ecstasy winding its way through your veins. Only to have the tingles dance slower, the coil start to unwind as frustrated huff leaving your gasping lips.

Taking advantage to plunder your mouth, greedy for a sample of the wet cavern and a tongue tango that draws out a sharp moan of need. Especially tasting your tangy sweetness from his lips, sucking the bottom between your teeth to nibble. While reaching blindly over to the nightstand, damn near yanking the whole draw on the ground in his haste. “Give me a sec woman,” huffing out he rolls slightly off you. The noise drawing a giggle out causing him too stiffen, glancing back with a playful glare to refocus on finding his prize.

Using the opportunity to nose the thick column of his neck, taking in the scent of whiskey, leather and motor oil, peppered now with sex and sweat. Addicting and unable to help yourself from sink your teeth into his skin gently but hard enough to leave a small soon to purple mark. Soothing over with the flat of your tongue catching sight of the pause your actions caused. The aroused moan that leaves his lips, head resting on the bed to try and gather himself from your onslaught.

“Something wrong Dean?” Nipping just below his jaw, tracing your fingers along his side. Index finger swirling through the spares, crisp hairs leading a path to what you’ve craved to have inside you for a long time. Nimble fingers surround the base forming a perfect circle that can’t close but tightens. Stroking his length teasingly slow. In return receiving a warning growl — the sound devastating your senses making you throb — from the man currently fishing for a condom and growing frustrated when his fingers come up empty. “Shall I stop my love? Am I distracting you?” Whispered words breathed into his ear, lips kissing the shell. Knowing damn well just how tormenting you are to his senes and body. If his twitching cock your hand currently wrapping around stroking and the shallow breaths are any indication.

“Ha,” triumphant shout of accomplishment, Dean rolls back over you pressing bodies together and into the mattress. “Now where were we?” Flashing that teasing smirk with a hard rutting of his hips against your dripping core and tight fisted hand.

“What to you so long stud?” Biting back the giggles when he fixes you with a scowl.

Breath hissing out through clinched teeth when taking your hand off his cock, bringing those wickedly wonderful fingers to his lips and sucking on each one with a short nibble. Placing the open condom pack in your palm, “Do the honors sweetheart.”

Curling your fingers around the little foil packet, pressing your other hand into the back of his neck drawing Dean in for a tender kiss. Slow meld of your lips, light sips of your warm mouths. Tenderly tugging his bottom lip, to slide your tongue over the bruised skin and into his mouth. Licking and touring the heated cavern, seeking out ways to make his moan and grunt. A moment of forgetfulness while mapping his tonsils and sucking on his tongue, till you break for air. Chasing his mouth for more kisses only to receive a chuckle instead.

Eyes open to spear him with a heated look, foil packet crinkling in your hand a remind of your mission. Slipping fingers from his soft hair, to trace over his body, joining its partner between the two of your heaving bodies. Unlocking your eyes to glance down, hand wrapping back around his thick shaft to stroke twice getting a needy moan from the man above you. Before teasingly rolling the condom on paying special attention to the thick pulsing vein on the underside, mouth watering at the thoughts of getting to taste it later.

Dean grasps one of your hips to bring the leg around his waist, opening you up and feeling your soft skin under his palm. Sliding between your bodies to entwine his fingers with your, pumping his cock together. Different sounds, a hiss from Dean and a moan from you exists on shuttering breaths. Eyes reattach both blown with desire and coated in need, you notch the head of his cock at your entrance pressing the heel of your foot into the small of his back to urge him forward.

Teeth clamping to draw blood from your bottom lip but also to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he slowly sinks inside your quivering depths. Reaching up with his other hand to free your bruised lip, brushing the pad of his thumb over the glistening skin. “I wanna hear you sweetheart don’t hold back.”

“What about Sam?” Breath hitching, mouth hanging open on a moan that’s trapped on the edge of a scream when he bottoms out against you. Bodies flush, joined hands now resting above your head where Dean’s placed them.

Leaning in to press open mouth kisses to your lips and neck letting you adjust to his size, the exquisite stretch thumps through your veins the slight sting only heightening the pleasure. “Never mention his name while we’re in bed sweetheart,” snagging the lobe of your ear with his teeth. Pleased when you nod speechless, though not enough, “Words baby girl I wanna hear that prefect voice of yours.”

Swallowing trying to form words to answer, scoring your nails down his back an impatience mewling whimper leaves instead. Using the leg not wrapped around Dean’s waist as leverage to plant and push your hips up against him. Squeezing your walls tightly around his shaft drawing out a grunt from his lips. “Dean…” going to say more but he chooses that moment to pull out till just the crown rested inside your pulsing channel. “Just you…” hips snapping forward to fill you quickly stealing those words into a loud scream of ecstasy.

Starting a hard punishing rhythm, repeatedly waiting till your fixing to speak and either pulling out or trusting home. Always taking away what your going to say. Knowing your trapped between frustration and pleasure, Dean captures your mouth in another deep kiss. While his hips snap against yours, wrapping the other leg around his waist to angle you differently. Pressing your intertwined hands into the pillow beside your head and breaking the bruising kiss to gulp a lung full of air into both your burning lungs.

Feeling your walls start to quiver around his hammering cock, knowing by the pinched look on your countenance, the quivering of your thick thighs clutching at his trim waist. Heels pressing into the small of his back drawing him forward with quickened strokes that he’s shortened from the long deep thrusts. Notching your legs higher on his waist to press forward, curling his pelvis into your core, determined to make you cum first. Wanting to feel you soak his cock, see the looks of pleasure dance across your features.

Sliding his fingers through your soaked folds to find your pearl pulsing, pressing the pad of his thumb circling to make a gasp fly from your lips. Back arching, tingles no longer gentle but tap dancing a rhythm through your veins. Dean’s name a chant from your dry, parched lips, panting to try and fill your starving lungs. Body vibrating on a higher frequency only Dean’s turned in on as with every snap of his hips, brush of his thumb sends your spiraling deeper into euphoria.

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck to bring him back down for another kiss. This one sloppy as the thrusts of Dean’s hips, brief touches of lips, wet slide of your tongues across the other. Eyes sliding closed only to snap back open with a pinch to your nipple soothed over my his teasing fingers.

“Keep those beautiful eyes open for me sweetheart and cum for me I know your close. You just gotta let go for me,” resting your foreheads together, gritting his teeth to starve off his own orgasm. The wet clinch almost too much for Dean to handle. Always wondering but never imagining how good this truly would feel.

“Dean,” breathing out his name, a series of moans and whimpers following. Trying to capture his mouth for another kiss that’s broken off when your orgasm slams into you soaking Dean’s cock in your slick. Eyes rolling back his name a screamed prayer from your lips.

Body convulsing in pleasurable all consuming fire, little sparks of light pin prick behind your tightly closed eyes. Moisture breath fans out over your neck where Dean buries his face, lips pressing into your skin. Chasing that high while working you through your orgasm the wet clinch of your walls prove too much to starve off any long. Giving in with a groan of your name rubbed into your skin as he fills the condom. Circling his hips a few more times to drag out the pleasurable spikes racking his frame.

Collapsing into your arms a welcome weight pressing you into the mattress as you both try to capture your breath. He brings your joined hands down starting to untwine them but the shake of your head stops the actions.

“For a few moments longer,” voice hoarse from screaming out your pleasure. Free hand coming up to card through his sweat drenched hair. Brushing the strands back from his forehead and sliding your lips over his. Brief touches, lingering into something deeper. Tender caresses of mouth’s, nibbling, and sucking softly on bruised skin. Dean starts to move getting a whimpered whine from your throat tightening your arms around him.

“Gotta clear you up sweetheart I’m not going anywhere,” reassuring you with another soft kiss while carefully pulling out of your tender depths. Mesmerized by the slick coating your tights and dripping from your convulsing walls. Brushing his fingers over the reddening swollen skin, gasp reaching his ears, eyes flying up to yours. Then flicking across your body seeing the beard burn on your neck and chest, hand prints blooming over your hips. “Did I hurt you?”

Sitting up to cup his cheeks, “No Dean you didn’t hurt me. If you had I would’ve told you.” Leaning in to kiss him tendering, “Better take care of that mess it’ll get awful sticky otherwise,” giving him a bright smile. Watching while he gingerly takes the spent condom off, tying it closed before tossing it into the waste bin by the night stand.

Raising to walk on shaky bowed legs to grab up the wash cloth from the sink. Wetting with warm water he turns back stunned to find you watching him with a grin on your lips. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm no,” seeing the frown you go to finish. “Love Dean, I see the man I love,” frown switching to teasing smirk as he nears the bed.

Nudging you to lay back and spread your legs, tenderly wiping you clean. Dragging the warm cloth over your folds and inner thighs. Tossing it behind him to crawl into bed gathering your pliant plush body against his hard chest. Back pressed into his front, arms wrapped tightly around your thick waist. Placing a kiss to your shoulder, “I love to you Y/N, get some rest I’m far from through with you.”

Soft giggles vibrate into his chest, “Careful you’re getting old baby you sure you’ll have the stamina?” Toying with the fingers tapping against your tummy sending shivers cross your body.

Low growl accompanies the drag of his teeth over your sensitive skin, drawing a moan from your lips. Pressing his hips into your generous ass, “Give me an hour sweetheart and I’ll show you just how much stamina your man has.”

#Request #SPN Mixed Bingo Square #Hurt/Comfort #Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader #Dean Winchester x Plus Size Fem!Reader #Dean Winchester x Plus Size F!Reader #Supernatural fiction

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noona-clock · 4 years ago

Text

What’s Your Sign?: Sagittarius

Genre: Celebrity!AU

Pairing: Choi Minho x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Words: 5,534

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

Ever since you’d seen him in his first ever role on a television series about five years ago, you’d fallen in love with Minho.

Choi Minho, probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen. Through a screen, at least. You hadn’t yet been lucky enough to see him in person.

And since you’d fallen in love with him after watching his very first episode of that television series, you’d done nothing but support him for the last several years.

You saw every one of his movies the day it released in theatres. You watched every single episode of every single television show he appeared in -- even if he was just a guest star.

His popularity from his first role had soared pretty quickly, which was really a win/win scenario. Minho, who presumably had been a struggling actor previously, was now flush with offers from directors. And you, an immediate superfan, got to spend a lot of virtual time with your new favorite actor -- because, not only did he act in a very large handful of projects every year, he was also interviewed on talk shows, featured in magazines, walking the red carpet of premieres and award shows. He didn’t have a social media presence for some extremely odd reason, but you still felt like you knew him.

From everything you’d seen and read about him, Minho was outgoing, friendly, and charismatic. He was confident, straight-forward, and optimistic. He basically always had some version of a smile on his lips, and based on many posts in the Choi Minho subreddit, he never turned down an opportunity to meet a fan out in public.

He... was basically perfect.

And you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about one day meeting him, falling in love, getting married, and having about ten children together in the most beautiful house in the universe.

But, to be fair, your daydream wasn’t entirely impossible!

You were a bit of a celebrity, yourself!

Kind of.

On the Internet.

You had started a YouTube Channel six years ago, and at first, you hadn’t really had a clear vision for your videos. An absolutely rookie mistake, of course, but there’s nothing you could do about it now.

You’d started off with makeup tutorials because that had been the hottest YouTube trend at the time. But... you quickly discovered you weren’t as good at makeup as one should be to post a tutorial online in good conscience. You also weren’t quite good enough at doing your nails, cooking, or sewing to do videos about those.

For at least a few months, you’d been stumped. You knew you wanted your own YouTube channel -- you had a pretty fitting personality for it -- you just didn’t have any one marketable skill.

Until, one day, you stumbled upon a video of a guy watching a K-Pop music video for the first time and reacting to it. That was literally it. The whole video had been just him watching and talking about it.

And you were very good at that. You loved watching things on a screen -- YouTube videos, television shows, movies, you name it! And you always had thoughts running through your head while you watched something. In fact, you frequently wished one of your friends had exactly the same taste in music, shows, and movies as you so you could voice those thoughts aloud to someone who actually wanted to listen.

So, how had you never thought of doing that on your YouTube channel?! There was obviously a market for it -- the guy you’d watched had a few hundred thousand subscribers, and since it was something you genuinely enjoyed doing, you weren’t afraid of running out of content inspiration or motivation any time soon.

It was literally the perfect idea.

The next day, you had set up your camera, pulled up the first episode of your favorite television show of all time, and got to work. When you posted the video a few hours later (Re-watching my FAVORITE show of all time), something about it just felt right. Like the stars had aligned. No matter if you got five views or five thousand, you knew you were on the right path -- when it came to YouTube, at least.

Every day after that, you chose something else to watch -- a nostalgic movie, a viral YouTube video, the really cheesy musical episode of a television show. You tried to pick things from all along the spectrum, and you also tried to wait a few days in-between continuing on with your re-watch of your favorite show, simply for variety’s sake.

Little by little, your channel began to grow. After work, you would film, edit, and post -- every single day. On the weekends, you would film two different videos in case you ever needed to take a day off. Or in case you just felt like posting two videos!

Your first sponsorship offer email had come about six months after you’d posted your first video, and your eyes had nearly fell out of your head when you’d seen how much they’d offered you. (Looking back, your first paying YouTube gig really hadn’t been that much money -- compared to what you could make now, at least -- but it had still been incredibly thrilling.) And, really, that had been the catalyst of your YouTube career and popularity. It seemed just the one sponsorship had been all you’d needed to catch the attention of other brands who wanted to work with you, and when you got to the point where you could actually afford to quit your job and turn down sponsorship offers you weren’t wild about? That’s when you knew you’d made it.

Okay, but really, you knew you’d made it when one of your videos hit one million views for the first time (a video of you watching a particularly cringe-worthy teen movie from about ten years ago).

And now, six years later, you had almost four million subscribers, and your most viewed video had almost twenty million views. Sometimes, you still couldn’t believe it!

The highlight of your time on YouTube so far -- at least, in your eyes -- had been when you’d seen Choi Minho for the first time about a year after starting your channel. You’d still had less then one-hundred thousand subscribers back then, so if anyone ever left on a comment on a video mentioning how long you’d been a Minho fangirl or remembering when you first discovered him, you knew they were an OG subscriber. But ever since that video, you did absolutely nothing to hide your affinity for him, both as an actor and as a person. You watched and reacted to every single one of his movies and every single television show episode -- you even sometimes reacted to interviews or videos other fans had made about him.

Even when your channel hit some pretty big milestones -- five-hundred thousand subscribers, one million, two million, three million subscribers -- you never played it cool when it came to Choi Minho. You switched up your content and your editing style here and there, but one constant on your YouTube channel was the fact you let your inner fangirl shine for all the world to see.

In fact, just last month, the trailer for his new movie dropped, and you were able to upload your reaction to it within two hours. Since then, you’d read and watched every interview you could find, favorited every tweet about the upcoming film, and liked every post on the #ChoiMinho hashtag on Instagram. Since he had no social media, you had to be satisfied with other people’s content rather than his own.

You were scrolling through his hashtag on Instagram right now, actually, as you procrastinated getting out of bed to go set up for another day of filming.

Now that you had almost four million subscribers and were approached by more than several companies for sponsorships every single day, you were able to focus on your channel full-time. You definitely got cabin fever from time to time, but it was worlds better than filming after work and on weekends. Now, you could actually take a day off whenever you wanted! It was glorious!

But you still procrastinated working. You were still human, after all.

After you caught up on his hashtag and liked just about every picture you could, you navigated to your inbox to look through your DMs. Over the years, it had gotten pretty easy to skip past the spam and sugar daddy requests (which were plentiful, unfortunately), so you no longer dreaded checking the unread messages. You could usually tell which ones to delete straight away from the profile picture and first few words alone.

To be quite honest, you really only opened ones where you either could tell someone was genuinely reaching out to say hi or thank you for posting your videos or... messages with Minho’s name visible in the preview. Shameless, but oh well!

After deleting a few messages at the top which were clearly spam, the next one you came to was actually one of those messages -- you saw ‘Minho’ in the preview. It was the very first word, even! And in all caps.

You pressed on it as quickly as you could.

And when your eyes took in the rest of the message... your heart stopped.

MINHO WATCHED ONE OF YOUR VIDEOS!

...This had to be a prank, right?

But right after the message in all capital letters was a link to a YouTube video, and the preview for the video was right below the message.

It was one of those videos put out by a big fashion magazine where celebrities watch videos about them and react to it. Usually, musicians and singers would react to covers of their songs by fans, but every once in a while, actors would read tweets or watch fanmade videos about them.

And when you clicked on the link this person had sent, the video opened in your YouTube app to show the title “Choi Minho Watches Fan Videos on YouTube,” and your eyes widened.

If what the Instagram message said was true... Minho had watched not only a fan video... but your fan video. And since his movie was premiering in just a couple of days, he had most likely watched your reaction to the trailer.

Oh my god.

Since the video had started automatically after clicking the link, you took a deep breath and concentrated all of your focus on your phone screen. You were not going to miss the part where he watched your video.

But, of course, after not even thirty seconds, you found you had already gotten distracted by how handsome he looked.

You quickly shook your head a bit, widening your eyes briefly before narrowing them to focus on your screen again. “Come on, Y/N,” you muttered to yourself. “You can watch it again right after this to admire him.”

It was only a fifteen-minute video, so it’s not like you had to wait forever to get to the part where he watched you!

Still, though, as the minutes ticked by, you felt your heart begin to race in anticipation.

What would he say about you? Would he find your obsession with him creepy? I mean, it had��to be a little creepy watching someone squeal and profess their love for you -- someone you’d never met!

But, then... when you got really mushy comments... most of the time, it didn’t feel creepy. It just felt sweet, and you were incredibly grateful that a lot of your subscribers and viewers were so supportive.

Ugh! You were getting off track again!

You shook your head once more and set your gaze back onto your phone screen.

Finally, when the clip of Minho watching a fanmade music video transitioned into the clip of him watching your video, your breath caught in your throat.

Were you going to survive this?

Outcome is unclear.

“Oh, yeah, I know her,” Minho said as your trailer reaction video began to play in the corner. “She’s the reaction girl, right?”

Your jaw dropped.

................Excuse me?!

Minho knew you?!

As you watched Minho watching you with the most adorable soft grin on his lips, your hand slowly crept up to cover your mouth in shock.

And, then, when you in the video paused the trailer to bring up another one of his movies that this trailer had reminded you of, his grin widened and he looked very pleased. “She knows her stuff, huh?”

You heard someone behind the camera murmuring something, and subtitles appeared on the screen. “She’s a known superfan, actually.”

Minho’s brow furrowed and he leaned toward the camera. “She’s what?”

“A superfan,” the person repeated, a little bit louder. “She’s known to her viewers for watching all of your movies and shows. There are always comments about you on all of her videos.”

Minho’s eyes widened a little in surprise. “Really? All of them? Comments about me?” He leaned back and nodded slowly after, apparently, receiving a positive answer. “I had no idea. I’ve just seen her videos about, like, the cheesy teen movies we watched as kids.”

You truly almost dropped your phone.

So... he knew who you were, but he hadn’t known that you fangirled over him on a regular basis?

First of all, how was that possible?

Second of all, did it really matter?! He knew who you were!

He knew who you were!

You didn’t expect that he regularly watched your videos, but still.

HE KNEW WHO YOU WERE!

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as you watched him finish up watching your reaction video. The look on his face was one of delight, and even though you knew he was a good actor, it sure didn’t seem like he was simply pretending not to be creeped out.

“She’s so fun,” he smiled as your video ended, his gaze shifting back to the person he had spoken with earlier. “She has more? Like, for my movies?”

The person mumbled something back, and this time, there were no subtitles on the bottom of the video. But Minho’s eyebrows shot up immediately.

“All of my movies?” he asked. And then he let out a joyous chuckle and added, “No way.”

He quickly turned to the computer and clicked on your channel name.

But the video transitioned into another clip of someone else’s video, so you didn’t get to see if he actually watched any other ones.

Even if he hadn’t, you were still overjoyed -- to say the least -- that he had watched just one!

He knew who you were! He had actually known who you were before this which was probably the most surprising thing you’d ever heard in your entire life. (Besides the fact that Minho was currently single. That was definitely more surprising than anything.)

After sitting in your bed for a few minutes, staring blankly at your screen as the video finished up, your gaze unfocused and blurry, you finally came to when you realized the video had ended.

And then you proceeded to freak out.

You squealed and shrieked and kicked your legs and rolled around and scrambled to your feet to jump up and down on your bed with glee.

Was this the best day of your life?

Quite possibly!

Once you’d calmed down just a tad, you plopped back into a sitting position, crossing your legs into a pretzel as you navigated back to Instagram.

You sent a reply to the person who’d sent you the video (”OH MY GOD THANK YOU HE KNOWS ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”) and then refreshed your inbox.

As expected, a whole new slew of messages came through and literally every single one seemed to be about the video.

Your lips split into a huge grin, and just before you clicked on a random one to read and reply to it... you noticed that one message had a blue check by the sender.

Pausing, you shifted your gaze to that message.

And your heart jumped up into your throat when you recognized the name of the account.

Obviously, it wasn’t Minho himself because he didn’t have one.

But it was the next best thing.

His management company.

You followed them, of course, and liked every single picture about him or with him. Of course!

But you had never gathered up the courage to message them. You’d had no reason to! What would you have said?

And now they were messaging you.

The several days following the video of Minho watching your video had been... a blur. To say the least.

You still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

I mean, you knew you were here because Minho’s management company had direct messaged you on Instagram inviting you to the premiere of his movie and you had accepted without one millisecond of hesitation and then you’d gotten on a plane a couple of days later and then checked into a super nice hotel and had a stylist and makeup artist sent to your room and after many hours you now looked better than you ever had in your entire life.

That’s how you got here.

But you still weren’t even really sure how you’d gotten here.

A rather large stroke of luck?

Good karma?

Hard work to grow your YouTube channel into something that would make you more easily recognizable by actual celebrities and their management companies?

Or a combination of the three?

Either way, you were overwhelmed with gratitude, and you knew you would never be able to forget this experience -- even if you, for some odd reason, wanted to.

I mean, you were currently in a really nice car, and the driver (yes, you had a driver!) was taking you to the red carpet.

The red carpet!

An actual movie premiere! With an actual red carpet!

And the movie was Minho’s movie.

You were at the premiere of Minho’s movie.

Oh my god, what if you saw him?!

As the car rolled to a stop in front of a crowded theatre, your heart and stomach dropped down to your very expensive and gorgeous shoes.

You’d gone to somewhat fancy events before -- it came with the job of being a YouTuber -- but never anything like this. Never an actual movie premiere. Never the chance of seeing your favorite actor in the history of time. And, obviously, never walking a red carpet.

Your door magically opened just as the car stopped moving, and a hand popped out of nowhere to assist you in exiting the vehicle. As gracefully as you could, you slipped your fingers into the mysterious palm, allowing it to gently pull you up and out of your seat and onto the sidewalk.

Almost immediately, camera clicks, light bulb flashes, and inquiring voices filled the air.

Cameras and lights in your face, you were used to. It was your everyday life, in fact!

But... all these people? Looking at you? Watching you? Taking pictures of you?

I mean, yeah, a few million people watched your videos. But it was absolutely not the same as a hundred or so reporters and photographers standing right in front of you.

Thankfully, some short but very powerful woman guided you onto the red carpet, muttering to you that all you had to do was stand in front of the backdrop, pose and smile for the cameras, and then move on to the next mark. Some reporters from news and entertainment channels would be waiting along the way to interview you (which didn’t scare you quite so much as you’d been interviewed a few times before), and all in all, it would take about an hour.

But it took you way less than an hour to discover that walking a red carpet is not as glamorous as it looks on television.

Walking like your shoes were covered in almost-frozen molasses so every photo taken was a good one. Switching back and forth between facial expressions so every photo taken wasn’t the same one. And do you know how many good places there are to put your hands when posing for a picture? Exactly two. One was on your hip and the other at your side. That was it. Definitely not clasped in front of or behind you, and definitely not tucking your hair behind your ear.

And just when you were sort of getting used to the constant posing for pictures, another short but powerful woman gently grabbed your arms and led you to a reporter from the most-watched entertainment news channel in the country.

“Hello, hello!” the perky reporter chirped as you approached her. “Come on over here!”

“Hi,” you greeted awkwardly as you made your way to the small mark on the ground next to her, holding up your skirt with one hand so you wouldn’t trip.

“Y/N! Good evening, good evening, how are you doing?” she asked before sticking the microphone in your face.

You had to quickly get over the shock of her knowing your name since you didn’t want to look like a fool on live television, so you forced a grin on your lips and answered, “I’m pretty overwhelmed, actually!” you chuckled.

“Is this your first time at a red carpet?”

“It is, yes,” you confirmed with a slight nod. “And I’m so used to being alone in my house, talking to myself in front of a camera, so this is all new territory for me.”

The reporter laughed with delight before asking which designer you were wearing. You answered her with ease since your stylist had drilled it into your brain before you’d left the hotel.

Then, after she asked you to tell the folks at home what you’re known for, she said, “It’s a pretty fun story of how you got here, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it is,” you answered, your lips pulling into a shy but excited grin. “I woke up one morning to a message on Instagram, and someone had sent me --”

The reporter interrupted you then, and you noticed her gaze was directed over your shoulder. You turned to look, and --

Well, the next few moments happened so quickly, you really had no idea how you reacted.

“Y/N!” Minho called out, smiling widely and waving before reaching out and sliding his hands over your shoulders. He stood next to you, squeezing you once before letting his arms drop down to his side. “I’m so sorry for interrupting --”

“No, we were just talking about why she’s here at your premiere!”

Minho’s smile brightened even more, and he continued on with the story you’d been telling.

Meanwhile, you were standing there. Mute. Staring at him.

Because oh my god.

How was it actually possible that Minho was more handsome in real life?

But also, how was it actually possible that Minho was standing next to you in real life?

But also also, how was it actually possible that Minho was real?

That’s the real question, isn’t it?

You came to when you heard him say, “Yes, this is our first time meeting,” before turning to you and holding out his hand for a handshake. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

You took his hand, shaking it weakly, and said the first thing that came to your mind: “Oh my god, hi.”

The reporter giggled, but Minho, instead of acting embarrassed for you, simply let go of your hand and moved to pull you into a hug.

Holy cannoli, Minho was hugging you.

Choi Minho. Was hugging. You.

Hugging!

You!

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” he repeated with a grin after pulling away, though he was still incredibly close to you and gazing at you with those sparkling, dreamy eyes of his.

“You, too,” you managed to reply shakily.

The reporter then went on to interview Minho, asking him who had designed his suit, what his character in this new movie was like, and if he was working on any new projects.

“I’m in the early stages of something, yes,” he answered. “I don’t think I can say too much more, but in the meantime, I think I’d really like to film some videos with Y/N, branch out onto social media.”

Your heart stopped, and you knew your facial expression was doing nothing to hide your surprise.

Minho then turned to you with an adorably guilty look on his face. “I mean, if it’s alright with you, of course.”

“Yes, absolutely!” you burst out immediately, and the reporter giggled once again.

“Well, there you have it, guys,” she said after turning to face the camera. “You heard it here first -- a brand new collaboration in the works, so keep an eye out.”

She turned to you then and asked you to remind the viewers of the name of your YouTube channel. You leaned into the microphone and silently praised the lord you were able to remember it.

“Thanks so much, you two,” the reporter said with a very peppy grin. “Have a wonderful evening!”

“You, as well,” Minho answered before putting a hand in-between your shoulder blades and guiding you back to the red carpet.

Wait, he was guiding you back to the red carpet? He wasn’t... leaving?

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured in your ear, his breath causing the most delicious tingle down your spine. “I swear I wasn’t trying to be rude, I just wanted to meet you --”

“No,” you shook your head slightly. “It’s -- it’s totally fine. It wasn’t rude at all. I’m -- I just -- I’m a little overwhelmed. In a good way!”

“Totally understand. I remember my first movie premiere like it was yesterday, I know exactly how you’re feeling.”

You simply let out a nervous chuckle, but then Minho did something to make you even more nervous (which you hadn’t even been sure was possible).

He bent his arm and held out the crook of his elbow toward you.

“Shall we?”

Okay, you were now convinced this was a dream. This was all a wonderful, perfect, heavenly dream.

There was just no way that any of this could happen in real life! Being invited to Minho’s movie premiere was one thing, but him interrupting your interview on the red carpet and mentioning he wanted to film a YouTube video with you? Him offering to actually walk the red carpet with you on his arm?!

Nope. Definitely not real.

So, since this was absolutely a dream, you figured you’d just go with it!

“We shall,” you replied as a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

You slid your hand into the crook of Minho’s elbow, and the two of you slowly made your way down the red carpet. Together.

It didn’t take long for you to be awed by his professionalism. When the cameras began to flash, he posed like a natural. It seemed so easy for him, but you figured it probably was easy after going through this so many times.

He murmured helpful hints and reassuring words to you as you struggled through, and he even insisted on doing his interviews with you by his side.

(Of course, before the two of you approached each reporter, he asked you quietly if you would rather have the spotlight all to yourself. He didn’t want to usurp your first experience on the red carpet and would gladly step away so you could finish the process on your own. You declined every single time.)

When you finally reached the entrance to the theatre about an hour later, you figured Minho would say it had been nice to meet you and be on his way.

But you should’ve remembered that this was a dream!

“Do you want to come inside? We can sit together during the movie if you want. I mean, you’re pretty much my unofficial date already, but you can absolutely say ‘no’ if you don’t --”

“I would love to,” you interrupted, your voice more sure and firm than it had been all evening.

But hearing your favorite actor and biggest crush of all time declare that you were his date for the night would do that to you. Plus, Minho literally exuded confidence and warmth -- you’d always thought so while watching him on a screen, and it was both relieving and exciting to learn he was exactly the same in real life.

Minho smiled at you and then led you into the theatre, your heart now basically in a constant state of flips and somersaults.

Once the two of you took your seats in front of the screen, Minho turned slightly toward you.

“I have to admit, I’ve been watching your videos a lot since I filmed the reaction for the magazine,” he said with the most attractive half-smile you’d ever seen in your life. “Seriously, thank you so much for being so supportive.”

“Oh my god, no, thank you,” you replied breathlessly. “I can’t believe you watched my videos.”

“They’re kind of addicting,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what it is, but I definitely understand why you have so many subscribers. I actually created my own YouTube account just so I could subscribe to you.”

Your eyes widened, and your heart actually stopped somersaulting because it stopped beating altogether.

“Are you serious?” you asked.

“You’re so entertaining! It feels like watching those movies and shows with a friend. And I like how you’re really honest but still nice about it. You don’t seem to have a cruel bone in your body.”

“Uh, no, I think you’re getting me mixed up with yourself,” you replied with a somewhat awkward laugh.

Minho simply grinned at you, and the somersaults started back up inside your chest.

“I was serious about wanting to film with you, though,” he said, eyebrows raised earnestly. “I would love to collab --”

“Yes, absolutely,” you reassured him as fervently as you could. “Literally whenever. Please. Yes.”

“Okay, good,” Minho chuckled before reaching into his pocket and sliding out his phone. “Here, give me your number so I can let you know when I’m free next.”

You hesitated before accepting his phone because...

What?!

Minho was giving you his phone. His actual phone. So you could put in your number? Your number?

This night just kept getting more and more unbelievable.

But you were never in a million years going to pass up the opportunity to give Choi Minho your phone number, so you took his phone and quickly added yourself as a contact.

“Perfect,” Minho murmured, almost to himself, when you handed his phone back to him. He looked at the screen for a few moments, and you noticed a soft grin pulling at his lips. And then he shifted his gaze over to you and said, “I can’t wait.”

And... as your eyes locked on his...

You had a moment.

A moment.

One of those moments you will never, ever forget as long as you lived.

One of those moments where your future basically flashed before your eyes.

Minho arriving at your house to film a video with you, a friendship forming, late night texts and phone conversations, going out to restaurants whenever he was in town... a more than friendship forming.

And you truly could’ve sworn this was not just your heart wishing, but... you honestly felt like you were going to marry this man.

“I can’t either,” you replied softly just before the lights went down.

The first thing you did when you got home was set up your camera and film a video relaying everything about your experience at Minho’s movie premiere.

Of course, you didn’t mention The Moment -- y’know, the moment you had when you realized you were most probably going to marry him? And you could just feel that it wasn’t wishful thinking? You figured it was probably best to keep that to yourself for now.

But everything else you shared with your subscribers, and you did nothing to hide how wonderful and magical it had all been -- and it had really been Minho which had made it so perfect.

“And you guys, he is truly exactly the same in person as he seems in, like, interviews and stuff. He’s so nice and so friendly and so warm and so gracious and --”

But you were interrupted by a text message.

Most of the time, you left your phone on silent as you filmed, but you’d been too excited to get all of your thoughts out that you’d forgotten to switch the sound off before turning the camera on.

“Whoops,” you murmured as you reached for your phone on your desk in front of you.

Instead of simply turning your phone on silent, though, the actual text message you’d received caught your eye and was too intriguing to ignore.

It was from a number you didn’t have saved, but your instinct to read the first few words of a message from an unknown sender took over... and you were incredibly glad it did.

Because the message was:

Hey, it’s Minho 😁 Are you free next week?

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, CANCER, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, CAPRICORN, AQUARIUS, PISCES

#kwritersworldnet #minho scenarios #minho imagines #minho au #minho fluff #minho fanfic #shinee scenarios #shinee imagines #shinee au #shinee fluff #shinee fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop fanfic #choi minho #shinee

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taleofharrison · 4 years ago

Text

Stuck | Michael Clifford

Summary: The boys try to do something special for the reader’s birthday while on tour but it might take a quick turn into something more.

Warnings: No just the friends to lovers prompt and rusher!reader because I love BTR (me? including Big Time Rush in yet another one of my works? I bet no one saw it coming).

Requested: No

Word Count: Around 1500

A/N: IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY! so this kind of a request I did for myself, the original idea for this was to write 5sos x platonic!reader but it became friends to lovers with Michael. The BTR songs I mention can be found here, here, here, here and here

MASTERLIST HERE

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY” four voices exclaimed waking you up in a quite abruptly way making you forget you were in a bunk in a tour bus hitting yourself with the bunk above yours.

“Ouch sorry” Ashton said “anyways happy birthday to the best tour mom ever”

“Yeah and don’t tell my mom Ash said that” Luke chirped in making you smile.

Even though every time your four best friends had to go on tour begged you to come with them sometimes it just wasn’t possible for you but this time you managed to make time for this tour and whenever it was possible for you to join them you looked after them, stopping them from getting too drunk after a show in case they had to do interviews or something important the next morning or making sure their show outfits were ready before or during soundcheck. You loved and cared for them and they loved and cared for you it was the most beautiful friendship you could ever have.

“Thanks guys” you smiled again with a sleepy voice “how come you woke up before I did?”

“Well we wanted to do something special and surprise you” Michael explained “we can stop near a bakery and buy you a proper cake but for now you’ll have to settle for the last package of Oreo we have”

Calum handed you the package it had a piece of paper pasted to the envelope it said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” with markers of different colors and their signatures it was the sweetest thing they could’ve done for you.

“You don’t have to buy me anything seriously this is enough” you replied opening the package.

“But we want to” Michael spoke again “You do so much for us”

For a second you lost yourself in his eyes, you had fallen for one of your best friends and after months of denial, thinking it was a stupid crush and it would fade, two weeks ago you finally admitted that you had fallen for him and how could you not? He was sweet and dorky and everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Uh you know what I’m going to get ready for today” you put your Oreos on your bunk “you can eat some if you want”

You left them and went to the back of the bus you closed the door the sound of Big Time Rush began to come from where you were now. Michael smiled of course you were listening to BTR when getting ready he thought it was sweet.

“I think the best birthday present you could give to her is telling her how you feel” Ashton suggested taking a cookie and putting it in his mouth.

“I-what?” Michael gasped “how do you guys know?”

“Mate you’re not very good at hiding your feelings we all noticed” Calum chuckled “don’t worry she’s just as oblivious as you are”

“Can you guys speak lower?” Michael whispered “I can’t have her hearing this”

“She has Big Time Rush sounding as loud as possible from the bluetooth speakers” Ashton laughed “she must be too busy enjoying herself dancing like crazy right now. She’s not going to listen to any of this”

Michael nodded he had a point the song playing was If I Ruled The World and it was your favorite BTR song and by now they had it memorized too “Do you really think I should do something about it?”

“Yep” Luke quickly answered “I can’t stand another conversation with her and about you”

“She told you?” Michael questioned again eyes wide open.

“Dude you know we are close” Luke shrugged “remember that I introduce you guys to her. Of course, she told me!”

Luke was the only one who knew about your crush on him you begged him not to tell the other boys but of course they found out by themselves and nobody had to tell them everybody around you knew but Michael. Maybe they were right it was time to do something about it.

“I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while now” Michael said “maybe we could add a song to the setlist tonight just for her birthday”

They didn’t allow you in the soundcheck which was weird they always wanted you there to be their number one during every rehearsal you immediately brushed it off “Maybe they are planning something silly for my birthday” you thought and kept playing with your phone and listening to music in the tour bus.

By the time of the concert the boys surprised with a cake singing happy birthday to you as funny and as out of tune as they possibly could making you laugh and smile.

“We told you we’d get you a proper cake” Michael smiled “now blow your candles and make a wish”

“Thank you, guys, so much” you said before blowing the candles.

“What did you wish for?” Michael asked.

“Not telling” you smirked “not going to come true if I tell”

“Well let’s eat some cake we have to get to the stage in around half an hour” Luke said.

After your small, improvised party the guys rushed to the stage you of course stood by the side of the stage watching your best friends having the time of their life.

“Cause I’m really not fine at all” they finished amnesia it was followed by the deafening sound of the fans screaming.

“Hey guys” Michael spoke “so tonight it’s a pretty special night because Y/N’s here and it’s her birthday today” and the fans screamed even more. They loved you and even considered you the fifth member of the band because of how pretty your friendship with the boys was.

“She’s a big fan of a band called Big Time Rush and she’s been begging us to do a BTR cover for a long time now” you rolled your eyes at Mike’s comment you weren’t begging you just told them it’d be pretty cool if they did just one song “and since today’s her birthday we are going to surprise her by finally singing one of their songs”

That’s why you weren’t allowed in the soundcheck “Put your lights in the air and please sing this if you know it this is Stuck”

“But I just keep getting…” Mike sang looking at you.

“Stuck, stuck” the boys joined him with harmonies his eyes never leaving yours.

“But I’m never giving…” Michael face went back to the crowd this was the first time in the whole song that he took his eyes off you.

“Up, up” the boys joined him again for the last part of the song “Thank you guys!”

Again, the fans were screaming a lot of them may not know the song, but the song was basically a Michael solo with beautiful harmonies, and it was something they couldn’t experience live every day.

“The next song it’s from our new album CALM” Luke said to the microphone as Michael changed guitars and the iconic sound of Easier filled up the place.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked Michael he was sitting on one of the sofas at the back of the tour bus.

“What are you doing up?” he questioned.

“I can’t sleep either” you sat next to him “great show tonight by the way I really enjoyed the cover section today…thank you”

“Well the four of us wanted to do something special for you…”

“I knew it was your idea” you interrupted him “I could tell it was your idea. It just screamed Michael to me”

“Yes, it was my idea” he said smiling at you “it was nothing I know how much you love those guys I just had to do it and I know someday they’ll get back together and we will collab with them and you can finally meet them then”

“What choice of song” you changed the subject “when I ‘begged’ you to cover a song I told you guys would do a great version of Shot In The Dark or Til’ I Forget About You not Stuck”

“I know that Stuck is one of your favorite songs and I know that you think it’s underrated because a big part of the fandom only recognize Boyfriend as a love song” he explained finally looking at you, you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes shine in the darkness “I know because I listen to you complain about it and this song had a message I really wanted to give to you that’s why I chose it”

“Michael, do you really feel that way about me?” you asked looking down.

“Yeah I do for quite a while now” he answered with a breathless laugh “and I-I think you feel the same?”

“Did Luke tell you?”

“No, he didn’t” he said ��actually Ashton told me to do something about it”

“Ashton knows!?” you screamed whispered.

“Apparently everyone knows” he chuckled “but us”

You thought you had been careful and not too obvious about it and of course Luke hadn’t told, you could trust him with your life.

“Can I kiss you?” Michael questioned after a moment of silence.

You just nodded and when his lips touched yours it felt like a thousands fireworks in your stomach it was magical, it was perfect and even though you birthday ended about 3 hours ago it was the best present ever.

“Sorry it took so long” Michael breathlessly said once you pulled apart.

“It was worth it” you smiled leaning to kiss him again.

Guess your wish came true

(GIF not mine)

#5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos x reader #michael clifford #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford imagines #michael clifford blurbs #michael clifford blurb #My Writing Corner #angela is writing

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 4 years ago

Note

Uuh dunno if you would like this prompt : Anna and Elsa as a mythical creatures.

Would love too see what you will write them as ^^

@like-redhead-probably I sat thinking about this ask for a long time, because while I IMMEDIATELY thought of one for Elsa, Anna’s absolutely eluded me. And I know you were probably looking for a story, but I am unable to stop myself from first EXPLAINING my choices xD

I was already thinking about the myth of the Hulder (or huldra if we’re speaking of the creature in general instead of the specific Norwegian myth) for other story-related reasons, and as I did more research, I felt like the Hulder REALLY shared similarities with Elsa.

Generally speaking the huldra is a Scandinavian myth of a pale skinned, blonde or brown haired, attractive young woman who lives in the wilderness, often luring men away with song or dance to be killed or misled, stuck wandering forever. Sometimes she’s connected strongly to water, and instead of making men lost, she drowns them. Sometimes she is described as similar to an elf or fey-like creature, with characteristics related to other Huldufolk (we’ll get to them later) such as living in a parallel world, or a world Underground, and therefore preferring caves or appearing and disappearing suddenly. Sometimes she is depicted as having a hollow back, or a cow’s tail, which she hides out of embarrassment or to conceal her true identity. Which… how cute is that?

Before the 11th century, the myths were focussed more around the Huldufolk, which literally means “Hidden Folk”. There are lots of stories as to why and how the Huldufolk came to exist, but for the purpose of Elsa I think it most appropriate to look at the Christianization of the myths. Why?:

Frozen and Frozen 2 are modern movies made by an American company and Christianity is nigh untanglable with American culture, they take place in ~1840s Norway, F1 has a dedicated place of Christian congregation depicted in said movie, an official royal crowning overseen by a Christian faith leader, and the adaptation of Frozen generally comes from author Hans Christian Anderson and therefore should take his life and society into account, etc.

The Christianized myth says that one day Eve was washing her children (presumably after Cain, Abel, and Seth) in the river, when she heard God approaching. Ashamed that He would see her kids unclean, she hid the half she wasn’t done bathing, and when God asked, “Where are the other children?” Eve claimed that she had all of them present, indicating the clean ones. This gave God pause, but in the end He said, “Then let all that is Hidden, remain Hidden.” The children that Eve lied about became the Huldufolk, unable to live among humans. These people would eventually become characterized as dwarves, elves, fairies, etc., as time and interpretations rolled on, the huldra being just one of many mythical “species”.

So. Who is Elsa? She’s a:

fictional, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned young woman who led thousands of men wlw to wander helplessly into the dark caves and wildlands of social media with a power ballad and a jaw-dropping transformation sequence

Okay I’m joking… mostly…

In fact my interest in choosing the Hulder for Elsa lies purely outside of any romantic or sexual appeal, especially since Elsa as a character exhibits next to 0 romantic or sexual interest across two whole movies and an additional two shorts. Indeed, there’s a reason people headcanon her as either asexual, aromantic, or both! No, the reasons I chose the Hulder are:

Elsa’s name

Her upbringing

Her duty as queen, and

Her general behavior, specifically in regards to Frozen 1, as Frozen 2 Elsa is, at times, an almost completely different character

Elsa’s name was chosen very specifically by the filmmakers because it means “God is my Oath”. Oaths are binding, heavy, and invoke the maker’s or subject’s actions and personhood in the future. In Elsa’s case specifically, it invokes divine witness: perfect for a queen, someone born to rule. A promise to be fair, to uphold, to protect, to lead, to be a dignified and honorable face for the country. And Elsa was so ready to be that… except for the powers of course. Or at least, when they became something other than a magical gift of wonder and joy. When they became dangerous. Then there comes another oath, spoken to powerful creatures of magic, the Trolls, and born from parental fear: “She can learn to control it.”

Binding, heavy, invoking of Elsa’s future. As she grows, Elsa becomes closed off, quiet, hiding in her own home. She still takes her duties seriously, but now that she has been Other’d, taught to hide herself and her curse, she is just as much shadow as person. To young Anna, Elsa must have been almost ghostlike, disappearing right when Anna thought she’d cornered her, only to reappear sometime later down the hall, out of arm’s reach.

God promised Adam and Eve that their children would inherit the earth, even after leaving the Garden of Eden. Then suddenly that changed, due to Eve’s fear and shame of her unwashed children, and some would now inherit Underground, or somewhere else entirely. The lost children of Eve had become Other’d, needing to hide, disappear, and resort to inhuman tactics just to exist. Maybe they’re jealous, maybe they're just tricksters. But it’s not their fault. And it wasn’t Elsa’s either. Another reason they are similar.

Now, it’s not all doom and gloom for the Hulder, or for Elsa. While the Hulder is generally known for her more chaotic and negative attributes - just like our favorite snow queen, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. There are a few myths that say burning a charcoal fire -instead of a coal or gas one- is most pleasing to the Hulder, that she’ll even watch over it during the night, and wake the sleepers in case something happens. If a traveler leaves supplies behind with a note or offering for the Hulder, they will travel safely. In fact, some people leave caches for her, as though to cater to specific requests. Coming across the Hulder by chance can have a multitude of outcomes, but if an astute observer spots her cow tail and mentions it, she may become shy and run away. Don’t mention the empty back though, that’s almost certain death.

Basically my point is… trade out the word “traveler” for the name “Anna” and we can draw all the similarities we want. Anna did all of those things, in a way. Anna gave Elsa a little gift of their favorite snowman every Christmas. Anna knocked on Elsa’s door and spoke to her, treated her kindly despite the distance between them, literal and metaphorical. It’s not hard to imagine that Anna left little notes around the castle, hoping Elsa would find them, read them, and know that Anna still loved her, still missed her. And, well, hopefully Anna wasn’t setting any fires and falling asleep next to them - but Anna always kept a light on for Elsa, in her heart. And it flickered and wavered sometimes, but it was a strong fire most days. And we know Elsa was always drawn to it, drawn to Anna because she loved her right back. Loved her first, even. And because it was a warmth that pleased Elsa, she tended it, quietly, carefully, warmly. Like putting a blanket over an Anna that had fallen asleep in the painting room, refusing that slice of chocolate cake so Anna could have two desserts, and listening, for hours and hours, days and days, for the sound of Anna’s glorious bonfire-like soul outside her bedroom door. Even when her secret was revealed, Elsa believed that the best way to protect Anna’s life, her flame, was to distance herself, running to a secret, special place all her own - much like the Hulder might run away back to the Underground.

And this last part’s just me, but I’d like to think that if the Hulder was treated kindly, respected, and given dignity, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if someone came across her accidentally. That instead of being instantly drowned, or the Hulder becoming sheepish and attempting to run, it would feel recognized. It could be called by name. And instead of feeling the need to hide it’s Otherness, it could be treated as part of it, and cared for just the same. I don’t even need to be subtle here: Anna called Elsa by Name, really saw her, and reframed her darkness into light. Anna hasn’t fought God yet, but she did walk through hell and back for a sister that everyone else saw as a threat, monster, and sorcerer. A category 9 Other. Too bad for them, Anna’s got a Category 10 heart.

Speaking of. We finally got to Anna.

Anna was difficult to pin down because to me, Anna is so very, very human. That’s what makes her special! Yes, yes, you could throw any mythical creature at Anna and the fun part would be trying to make it work within her personality and characterization BUT since the question was Anna AS a mythical creature, that changes the game! The word ‘creature’ itself tends to conjure something distinctly INhuman. So I…. tried, and cheated maybe a little. Because I picked for Anna the Norse Valkyrie.

Most people know what Valkyries are so this one takes significantly less explaining. Valkyries are women that are warriors, shieldmaidens, and the hands of Odin, and they choose who lives and who dies during battle. Their chosen dead ride with them to Valhalla, while those they choose to live are usually granted honors in life. There are the darker sides of Valkyries that paint them as blood hungry maidens waiting on the sidelines before a war, singing the names of who will die with glee… but generally speaking the version of Valkyries that most people know and admire today are accurate! And thank goodness because attempting to depict Anna the other way would probably give me an ulcer.

Anna, much like the Valkyries, is a woman of valor and strength, who is perceptive, guides others, sees into people’s hearts and reveals their goodness. Valkyries are also warriors of prowess themselves, and Anna in Frozen 2 with that ice sword? We all know she was ready to use that for real. She also exemplifies traits that Valkyries both look for and have! Bravery in the face of danger: hello Marshmallow, Elsa’s own blizzard, Hans’ lethal sword strike, LIVING MOUNTAINS, and a damn collapsing.... dam. She also defends those who cannot do it themselves: saying publicly that, “My sister is not a monster… she was scared, she didn’t mean any of this,” even if that cast suspicion or doubt on herself, and the crown, as a whole. Anna knew and believed in Elsa, despite all the years and heartbreak and anger. Despite the impossible magic that literally just happened before her very eyes. Belief in character, despite appearances. And once they were reunited, Anna made every effort to stay by Elsa’s side because she STILL had that faith in her. Anna’s name means “Grace” or “of Grace”, and damn if she didn’t extend that to the person others found most unworthy, even to Elsa herself. Valkyries see what others don’t, and their decisions are final.

[Deep breath] SO! You asked for Anna and Elsa as mythical creatures. You got… a small academic paper, by social media standards xD. I intend to write a little piece about a Valkyrie who encounters the Hulder on the edges of a battlefield and… realizes she never made a choice about this particular woman. And wonders why she can’t ;). BUT I didn’t wanna leave you hanging any longer. Hope you like my choices!

Oh also, nobody asked, but Kristoff is a werebear. No research required

#there's almost 2k words to this uhhh..... eyup that's all I have to say about that #the inner academic kinda popped out #begging to be utilized after a few dusty years xD #I have links to all this stuff btw if people want them #but now I should REALLY go to bed #or I'll be slowly flame-broiled by a certain someone who is about to find out I'm awake in the worst way possible #like-redhead-probably #mythical creature au #Hulder!Elsa #Valkyrie!Anna #mythology #also yes I know I didn't stray far from Scandinavian territories for the mythical choices I couldn't help it #once I got digging into the huldra I had a hard time looking anywhere else #still I think Valkyrie fits so nicely for anna #she might as well be on irl tbh #Elsa #Anna #my writing #and yeah I'll get to a little short story bc they're so CUTE like this!!

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leapingtitan · 4 years ago

Text

The Final Season - Episode 1 Thoughts

I've watched the first episode around 3 times on my own and over a dozen times from anime-only live reactions on YouTube. Those are always something to have a field day with every season, and are part of the whole enjoyment post-watching the episode on your own.

Obviously I'm only reviewing this based on the first episode, so it's way too early to judge The Final Season as a whole. However, I will say that my strategy to keep my expectations low definitely worked. I was very hyped, don't get me wrong, but after Season 3 Part 2, I realized that production and scheduling has never been this show's strong suite and things behind the scenes were always chaotic. And it was my mistake to realize it this late and have unrealistically high expectations of the manga's adaptation.

But enough about that. I'm just gonna say it right now. I absolutely loved this episode and was completely blown away by it. It was a rollercoaster ride from start to finish and boy, the staff wasn't kidding when they said the first episode was like a movie. It definitely felt like that, and it went by in a flash. Now, on to the individual points.

Story/Adaptation

Flawless. Everything was executed perfectly and went beyond my expectations. The thing that stood out to me the most was how many things were changed from the PV in terms of scene construction, camera angles, and overall storyboards. There was only one shot that we reused from the PV, namely the one with Zeke and Reiner inside the airship where they're referred to as the spear and shield. Everything else was redone, which was a huge surprise. Wit was always very faithful to the original manga panels with how they used them as a big reference for most of their cuts, but this one changes them up a lot. Personally, I am 100% fine with it and as someone who has read these chapters in the manga dozens of times over the past few years, seeing them like this was a pleasant and very welcome surprise.

The anime-only additions here are notable and also quite welcome. Falco's line in the beginning in particular stood out the most in the long-run, but the addition of the Eldians' terror being shown as well as the scene before the ED was very welcome. I would like to assume that this was Isayama's doing as whenever the anime usually adds/changes up things, it's his request to do so. He sort of considers the anime to be the "definitive" version of the story that he, for one reason or another, couldn't do in the manga himself when that particular chapter came out. Season 3 Part 1 (The Uprising Arc) is a prime example for this. Once again, I'm very content with what was done here and I trust MAPPA will do the story justice.

A small but very neat thing is the fact that we got to keep the title cards and the info eyecatches mid-episode. Really added to the whole sense of consistency.

Animation

When the initial trailer came out, many people were concerned about Shigeki Asakawa (Director of Photography)'s odd and excessive usage of blur filters on top of the scenes and were wondering if they would remain in the final product, given her track record with other shows like The God of Highschool. Luckily, that is not the case here as the scenes look very clean and the minimal blur on top adds a bit to the muddy/gritty atmosphere of what's going on. Personally, I don't mind it at all and I barely notice it anyway. MAPPA's biggest strength to me is the usage of effects like blood and explosions. You feel the impact of everything and with such an action-packed episode, it made everything so much better.

The usage of 3D CGI for the Titan Shifters has been the biggest controversy surrounding this first episode. When I first watched it, it didn't bother me at all. Personally I care more about a model fitting in the action sequence rather than how it looks for the most part. Right now I would say I'm neutral. It's not the greatest CG ever conceived in anime but it definitely does not look out of place and is pretty decent. For the Jaw Titan, I couldn't tell what was CG and what wasn't for the most part. For the other Titans it's more obvious, but it's not too jarring. Obviously, if it was up to me and the production committee/NHK didn't push their scheduling shenanigans onto MAPPA, I would have gotten every Titan in 2D, but you can't have everything. If they choose to focus on more important scenes later on and cut corners in this first episode as a result, that's understandable. I can live with it. And again, even then, it's not that bad in my eyes.

Now, the character designs are just absolutely stellar. In multiple interviews, it’s been stated that they wanted to stay true to Kyoji Asano’s designs at Wit while also being consistent with Isayama’s style in the manga. And boy did they absolutely nail it. It’s exactly what as they said. Tomohiro Kishi could not have done a better job with the characters we’ve seen so far and I am beyond impressed with his work. I look forward to seeing the rest of the characters in this arc.

Sound

I've been following Kohta Yamamoto's works for a few years now, ever since he started working with Sawano (and being mentored by him to an extent) in early 2017. Although he's been involved with AoT before, particularly with the character songs in Season 2, whenever those two would collaborate on a project it would usually be because Sawano is too busy to compose a full soundtrack. So what usually happens is, Sawano does one track and variations of it (think ShingekiNoKyojin, ThanksAT and T-KT), and nothing else. Meanwhile, Yamamoto handles the rest of the music for the show. On top of that, Yamamoto's style as a composer is different from Sawano's as he comes from a rock/guitarist background as opposed to Sawano, who is a pianist and is classically trained. My biggest concern for The Final Season was that we would get a similar case as with the other shows where Sawano doesn't put in too much effort, while Yamamoto essentially becomes the main composer. Although it looks like this is in fact the case after this first episode, let me explain why I don't think it's a bad thing.

After the premiere of the first episode, both Sawano and Yamamoto tweeted that it was in fact Yamamoto who is handling the majority of the Marley Arc's music. And after this first episode, I have to say I'm impressed. His initial track that he made for the PV was a bit off-putting to me because it sounded like every epic blockbuster Hollywood trailer background track ever, but after the way it was used in this episode alongside a few other tracks, I have to say I'm pleasantly surprised. It fits what's going on, and overall delivers a fresh sound to the show that is very appropriate given the massive change in narrative. Back during S3 Part 1, Sawano stated in an interview that he was already burned out and had trouble coming up with new music for AoT given how many tracks he had already composed for it. Given how few new melodies were in S3 Part 2;s music, I think this should be clear. Especially now that we're going into yet another season. To summarize, I think Yamamoto's work here is a result of three conditions that just happened to line up perfectly. The change in narrative, which the new composer style reflects. Sawano being busy. And Sawano being burned out with AoT. Now personally I still believe we're going to get at least one new original Sawano track with variations of it for the big climax moments this arc, and he may compose more music for the 2nd half of this 16-episode season, since that's technically a new arc. But we'll see. As a whole though, I'm satisfied with what I've heard from Kohta Yamamoto in this first episode.

The last point to make in regards to the sound is Masafumi Mima who, apart from Sawano, the voice cast, and some freelancers, is the only one from the previous seasons' staff members to return here. And once again, his work here is absolutely phenomenal. The mixing and usage of sound effects in this episode was stellar and truly felt like I was watching a war movie. It enhanced the action tenfold and I could not want it any better. Music usage is something that goes through the director (Yuichiro Hayashi), but ultimately the sound director is the one who implements the track (instrument layering/stem editing) and does the mixing. The usage of Kohta Yamamoto's music here was very well done, and although the track from the PV repeated quite a bit, it didn't get repetitive at all. Also, the sound director remaining consistent here means we got to keep things like the titan transformation sound effects, which may be a small thing but was very welcome and added to the whole consistency.

Opening/Ending

I'm gonna wait until Shinsei Kamattechan releases the full version of the opening in a single or album to fully judge the song, but boy do I love this opening. Although I'm not sure if the TV-size version is my favorite AoT opening yet, I have to say that it's without a doubt the most fitting OP this show has had until this point. It perfectly showcases the themes of war that this arc focuses on and has this lowkey disturbing eerie vibe with the dissonant chords and mixing of the vocals that feels just as "mysterious" and "tense" as the show itself. I love it so much, honestly. Now, Isayama was a fan of Shinsei Kamattechan prior to them doing the S2 ED, and was the one who got them on-board to do it. Although that song isn't really my thing it's also a perfect fit, which leads me to believe that Isayama himself most likely chose the band again, namely to do this OP. And it's fantastic. I love the song. The visuals also have a very distinct style with all the colors and white backgrounds and I love how it's more metaphorical and symbolic (I guess "abstract" as well?) rather than flat-out just spoiling everything like the last arc's OP did.

The ED by Yuko Ando is fantastic. The first time I listened to the full song on its own I couldn't stop getting chills. Love the production aspects of the song and it's just really nice altogether. The visuals are quite interesting especially towards the end and I also like them a lot. Not much else to say about the ED. It's amazing. Go listen to it.

Conclusion

As a whole, I kept my expectations extremely low prior to the premiere despite my hype. As a result of that, not only were they exceeded, I was absolutely blown away by this first episode in pretty much every way. It may still be too early to judge, but from what has been shown here so far, I am absolutely looking forward to see MAPPA adapt the rest of this amazing story, or about as far as they can get with 16 episodes.

#well this just became a whole essay lmao i'm sorry about that #anyway i hope y'all have been doing well #i don't plan to use tumblr actively again but it's nice to have a place to post huge rants like this #but yeah smh at discord lmao #snk #shingeki no kyojin #snk the final season #snk season 4

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writerchickmarie · 4 years ago

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John Lloyd Young By Request -Wishes Granted And Dreams Fulfilled

If there is ever a universal truth, it is this: John Lloyd Young is always thinking of and cares about his friends and fans.

And he showed it once again tonight, as he and Tommy Faragher did a set comprised completely of requests from all of us, bringing back favorite memories and stirring up a variety of emotions as we revisited songs we already love during the main show, and got to hear new ones that were suggested performed brilliantly in the afterparty in a workshop-type setting.

JLY mentioned that the songs were the top vote getters submitted by fans, and how pleased he and Tommy are that people wanted to hear these songs again. He arranged the songs in a way that made sense for the set, so the songs were not done in order of number of votes - which only added to the element of surprise.

Our evening began with “Lightning Strikes”, showcasing how well JLY can move into falsetto and back - not only between songs, but within the same song. After that came the perennial favorite “Hold Me Thrill Me Kiss Me”, and I look forward to the day that we are all at shows in person again, where JLY can come into the audience and visit with all of us as he performs this one.

The next three are ones that we used to hear often, but hadn’t for a while...”Stardust”, which I know is a well-loved song for several of us, “Hey There Lonely Girl”, with JLY’s stunningly beautiful falsetto, and “Hurt”, with the angst and emotion present in both voice and expression.

He followed these with two of his original songs, and he told us how grateful he is that we enjoy and want to hear the original material in addition to all of the other songs chosen. First up was “Slow Dawn Calling”, which I know we were all singing along to at home. It was followed by “Till The Storm Is Done”, which I hope we get to hear more often - and is so appropriate now as we all weather the storm together and work our way through this pandemic.

The next song was also one we hadn’t heard in a while, but I’m so glad it was chosen for this set. JLY’s version of “You Keep Me Hangin” On” is gritty, soulful, and deeper than the pop version we all know so well. I prefer JLY’s for that reason - you can actually feel the emotion in the words. After this came “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”, which is always a favorite and welcome in every set.

JLY took a break for a few minutes while Tommy performed “A Song For You”, which is always a favorite as well - it’s always a joy to hear him sing this, and a treat to have Tommy do a solo during every show to showcase his many talents.

JLY came back and sang “My Prayer”, telling us the story of how when his dad heard that he recorded it, he had told him that it was his parents’ song when they were teenagers. So I would say that it was meant to be for JLY to perform it. This led to the next song, the sweet yet emotional “Just One Smile”, which I know several friends have mentioned was a major favorite.

The next two were the actual top vote getters - “Unchained Melody” at #1, and “Cara Mia” at #2. We could hear these and every show and never get tired of them, especially the way that JLY performs them.

The final three in the main show were definitely songs that hadn’t been done in concert in a while. JLY’s ethereal rendition of “To Make You Feel My Love” will make you cry. Then his version of “Maybe I’m Amazed”, which actually tops Sir Paul’s original, will make you feel warm and joyful. He closed with “Let’s Stay Together” - it was especially good to hear this one since it’s been such a long time since it was performed.

After a short break we moved on to the afterparty, and all of the new song suggestions that JLY and Tommy chose to workshop for us.

This part of the evening started with Tommy singing “Bring It On Home” - then moved into him singing “To Love Somebody”, which was a suggestion that JLY said was perfect for Tommy’s voice - and he was right. It’s such a pleasure to witness and experience the amazing partnership between JLY and Tommy, the true musical Dynamic Duo.

JLY also mentioned that some of the songs that were requested happened to be on their short list of possible future songs, which helped them decide which ones to do for this afterparty. He also said that they kept the lists of songs from both sets, so even if they didn’t do some of the suggestions for this event, they might visit them sometime in the future. And it really is an honor to be able to be a part of their creative process of choosing material, and to be present as they try out different ideas and arrangements during the workshop and let us give feedback. I know it is personally fascinating to me, and also to many others.

JLY’s first song in this section was “It’s Gonna Take A Miracle”, which I hadn’t heard in a long time. This one is perfect to showcase his incredible vocal range. This was followed by “In My Life”, which was beautifully done and will get even better over time.

He took our breath away with “All I Ask Of You”, and I really hope at some point he can be in Phantom Of The Opera. This song is definitely a keeper! After that was a fun back and forth with JLY and Tommy for “More Than A Woman”...I could see this being a cool addition to future shows. The “Tee Jays”, anyone? :)

JLY had promised a Frankie Valli song that hadn’t been performed in Jersey Boys, and he told us the story of how some of the powers that be wanted to get this song in so they had him try it out, but ultimately it was only used as underscoring in a certain scene. This song, “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore”, was another beautifully breathtaking moment - and I really hope that it becomes a regular part of future shows. It’s that amazing.

JLY closed the afterparty with “When Will I See You Again”, which is also appropriate at this time as we all looking forward to being together again. I have faith that it will be soon, and we will all appreciate it even more than before.

This was a special evening that we will all remember, and that will carry us through as we work our way toward live in-person shows again. Thank you to JLY, Tommy, and The Space for making so many wishes come true.

#john lloyd young #by request #livestream #john lloyd young friends

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 5 years ago

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Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Eight

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

Roman woke up the next morning to a harsh knocking at his door and an unpleasant voice demanding his attention. “Veronica, open up, I know you’re still in there!”

Sitting up silently, Roman rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and went to answer the door, greeting his mother still in sleep shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, and wearing nothing else. “Do you need something, Mother?”

“You’re having breakfast with Rose and I,” his mother told him.

“I’m still exhausted, Mother—”

“—This is not a request, Veronica,” his mother said. “You will be having breakfast with us. You cannot run away from your duties and hide behind Damien forever.”

I can certainly try, Roman thought. “That’s not what I’m trying to do, Mother. I wish to know the man I’m going to marry, beyond his name and basic knowledge of his interests. If that means I’m running away from my duties, then I fail to see why you would set this up. You of all people should know I like to get to know people better than just surface knowledge if I’m going to be spending a lot of time with them. And Remus is the same, especially with romantic ventures. This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

His mother huffed. “You still must have breakfast with us. You will be spending a lot of time around Rose, as well.”

“If you don’t mind me looking and feeling dead inside at breakfast, yeah, give me two minutes to get dressed,” Roman said, closing the door. He grabbed a T-shirt and looked through his suitcase, grimacing when he saw no more pairs of jeans. He had forgotten that his mother had made him pack all his feminine clothing first. So he put on one of the least form-fitting skirts and opened the door again. “Acceptable?” he asked.

“You should wear your hair up,” his mother said. “You look so much prettier with your hair up.”

Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “May I have my phone back after breakfast, Mother? I want to add Damien to my contacts.”

His mother sighed. “I suppose,” she allowed. “But no talking to those online friends of yours! We got rid of those apps that you had on your phone that allowed you to talk to them, but I don’t want to see you redownloading them!”

Roman sighed. “Is that really necessary, Mother? They’re my friends, they deserve to know that I’m all right.”

“They were hurting you, Veronica, and I will not allow you to delude yourself about this transgender... thing any longer!”

Roman resisted the urge to flinch, and the urge to growl. “I’ll text Remus and see if he can tell them I’m all right. I haven’t been able to talk to them in a week, they’ll be worried.”

His mother sent him a glare, and Roman just shrugged. “I don’t want them thinking I’m dead, Mother.”

“And if they try to contact you outside those apps?” his mother asked.

“They can’t,” Roman said. “I never gave them my email address or my phone number. They’ll be relieved that I’m alive, and you can still isolate me from the only people who ever understood me.”

“Don’t act like that, Veronica,” his mother scolded. “You know everyone at home loves you. We just want you to see sense.”

Roman sighed in frustration. “Whatever,” he growled. “Let’s just have breakfast.”

His mother gave him a warning glare but they both walked down the halls to a dayroom where the Queen was already waiting. She smiled at Roman, and Roman offered a weak smile back. He really wasn’t looking forward to this. Not because he didn’t want to spend time with the Queen. She seemed really nice, and inviting, and she was more than accepting. But because his mother was there, he would be forced to stay in the closet during the entire conversation that was breakfast. And that pained Roman to no end.

No sooner did Roman and his mother sit down than Patton swooped in, carrying three plates on a tray in one hand, and a tea set in the other. Roman whistled. “Nice balancing act,” he said.

“Thank you, Your Highness!” Patton said, giving him a big, toothy smile. “It took many years of practice to get it down, but once I figured out how to place everything so no one side is topheavy, I could run through the halls with trays over my head and still keep everything in place!”

Roman grinned at Patton, ignoring the way his mother was giving him a searching stare. “Maybe you could teach me some time, that could be fun,” he said.

“I could enlist both you and Damien to help me in the kitchen and teach you both how to balance anything,” Patton laughed. “Although, I must admit, with Damien’s track record for balance, I’m not sure that would end well.”

Roman snickered and the Queen laughed a little, herself. “My boy is talented in many things, but balance is not one of them,” she said. “That seems to be where most of his art problems stem from. Not looking where he’s going, or misjudging how light or heavy a piece of pottery will be. Then he inevitably drops something and whatever he dropped proceeds to get in every nook and cranny in the room he was working in.”

Laughing outright at that, Roman said, “I certainly hope no one ever hands him a child, then.”

Patton snorted, said, “It’s a bit late for that, Your Highness,” and left.

Roman turned to the Queen and she sighed. “Yes, Damien has tried to hold children before. Family members, sitting down, of course, but he never could quite cradle them correctly, let alone pick them up.”

“Has he gotten any better at it?” Roman asked. “Any improvement? At all?”

“If he has improved, I haven’t seen it,” the Queen said with a slight smile.

“That might be a problem,” Roman’s mother cut in. “When you two have children, he’d have to learn how to balance very quickly, or risk not being able to hold them at all.”

Roman grimaced, busying himself with grabbing a plate of breakfast (pancakes, he was pleasantly surprised to find), and a cup full of tea. He hadn’t even considered that he would be expected to have children. If the thought of sex had repelled him yesterday, the thought of children today made his heart leap into his throat and his stomach sink into the depths. “I don’t know about children at this point, Mother, Damien and I aren’t even married yet.”

“It’s never too early to think about these things, Veronica,” his mother pressed.

“Yes, it is,” Roman said. “I may have played house as a child but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for a baby now. It’s...more than a little stressful to think about, so I’d appreciate it if we took the discussion in a different direction.”

“That works for me,” the Queen said. “Diana?”

“She will need to plan for it,” his mother protested.

“Yes, but there’s already an entire wedding to plan. One thing at a time, I think, will help Veronica adjust better.”

His mother sighed. “I suppose,” she allowed.

“So,” the Queen said. “I spoke with your mother quite a bit yesterday, Veronica, but I didn’t see very much of you. Is there anything you believe I should know about you?”

“Other than the obvious?” Roman asked with a little sniff of a laugh and a smirk. “I mean, my favorite color is red, so I very much enjoy the guest room you put me in. The turkey last night reminded me of childhood adventures with my brother, which I’m sure Damien mentioned in passing.”

“He did mention something about that this morning,” the Queen said, smiling. “About how the two of you traded places as children. I think it’s rather charming to hear about.”

“You might be the first person to call it charming,” Roman laughed. “But there are plenty more stories where that came from.”

“I can’t wait to hear them all,” the Queen said. “But for today, I’m afraid we might not have much time to talk about that. We need to go over your first dance, after all.”

“Oh, right,” Roman said. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around the thought of getting married. The thought of slow-dancing with Damien seemed even more foreign. “I mean, I can barely do a passable waltz, which may be a problem...”

“Not to worry, I’m sure Logan would be willing to teach you. He’s a man of many talents. It’s one of the reasons Damien chose him to be his advisor.”

“Huh,” Roman said, taking a sip of his tea. “The more you know.”

“Indeed,” the Queen said, and when she smiled, Roman saw where Damien got a majority of his grin from.

“So, as for music,” Roman’s mother said. “What are we thinking? It has to be something Veronica can be able to dance to, but I think it should also be sweet. Something that really seals the idea of love.”

“Damien suggested a song to me earlier when we were talking. It was the reason he came looking for me. It was by this band...Sleeping at Last, I think? And they did a remake of the song I’m Gonna Be. The five hundred miles song. I haven’t listened to it, yet. I was hoping we could listen to it together.”

“Excellent idea, Rose,” Roman’s mother said. “Veronica, you can pull it up on your phone, can’t you?”

When Roman had his phone offered to him, he practically snatched it out of his mother’s hands as he looked up the song. “He said he thought of you with this song, Veronica,” the Queen said. “He hoped he wasn’t being too forward when he chose this, but he said he thought it really was what he needed to say to you.”

Roman’s heart thudded in his chest when he heard that. He knew the song, but he had never heard the version the Queen was talking about. Still...Damien doing those sorts of things for Roman, it had Roman’s heart beating hard and fast. Someone being chivalrous to him, as him, and not as Veronica, made him feel weak at the knees.

The first notes of the song hit the air around them, and Roman instantly knew this would be a romantic version of the song, but then the singer came in, and he had to fight back tears. They sang so earnestly and with so much heart in the song that Roman wouldn’t believe anyone who told him that the singer didn’t have someone in mind when they sang it. “I love it,” he said, voice thick with tears. “This is perfect.”

“I’m glad you think so,” the Queen said with a knowing smile. “Damien puts thought into every song he recommends for any occasion. It looks like he got this one perfectly.”

Roman nodded, locking his phone as the song ended, and slipped it into the pocket he had secretly sewn into this skirt when his mother first got it for him. She never liked that he altered any outfit she got him, but he would claim he needed at least one pocket and his mother would drop the subject, knowing that Roman would argue for his right for pockets until he was blue in the face. Roman took a breath and sipped his tea, trying to get rid of the tears that threatened to overflow and make him start crying.

As breakfast continued, Roman ignored every time his mother said “Veronica” in favor of thinking about Damien calling him Roman. A man who truly cared about him, using his name. It almost made the whole thing bearable.

His mother kept going on about the kind of dress Roman might be wearing at the wedding, and Roman noticed even the Queen looked somewhat uncomfortable by this point. “I do wish the tailor would have let me see his designs,” his mother sighed. “I tried to talk to him last night as he was leaving, but he said nothing.”

“Remy doesn’t like sharing sketches of his ideas, because what he does might change radically from the sketch to what the final result is,” the Queen said. “He doesn’t want anyone to get attached to an idea he realizes no longer works.”

His mother seemed somewhat appeased, but she still sighed. “I would have liked to be there, regardless. I do want to be present for the first fitting.”

Roman’s eyes flicked over to the Queen in a panic. The Queen hummed. “I don’t know, Diana. Remy doesn’t like too many people hovering around him.”

“I’ll stay out of the way,” Roman’s mother insisted.

“Actually, Mother,” Roman said. “I had talked to Remy last night about a possible surprise about the dress. A surprise specifically designed for you and Father, and I don’t want to ruin it by showing you before the wedding day.”

His mother sent him a searching stare. “And this surprise isn’t risqué? You’re not making the dress provocative or otherwise unacceptable?”

“Of course not, you know I hate when I wear anything that shows off my body like that,” Roman said, shaking his head. “We were actually discussing...” He forced back a shudder. “We were talking about designs in the lace he considered using. Among other things.”

His mother’s eyes lit up. “You’re considering the lace after all?”

“Remy knows ways to make it less scratchy than what I’ve dealt with in the past,” Roman lied. “And if what he designs is more comfortable than what I’ve worn in the past, then I will be more than happy to wear it.”

His mother hugged him, and Roman allowed his discomfort to show on his face just as long as his mother couldn’t see him. The Queen winced in sympathy. When his mother pulled away, he reset back to his neutral face and let his mother grin at him. “I knew you would see sense, Veronica!” she exclaimed.

“I don’t know how wearing lace would be me ‘seeing sense,’” Roman said with a shrug. “But if it makes you happy...”

As his mother took over the conversation, once again gushing about her excitement for the wedding, Roman slowly retreated in on himself until he was practically huddled in the chair he was using. He wanted to be anywhere but here. He’d settle for some place in the castle that his mother wasn’t, at this point. He just wanted to leave. Now. Roman stood, clearing his throat. “I’m afraid I need to use the restroom, as exciting as this conversation is,” he said.

“Oh, that’s quite all right, dear, I was about to suggest we head to the ballroom and send someone to fetch Damien so the two of you could practice your first dance,” the Queen said. “The bathroom is right down the hall, and anyone in the castle can tell you where the ballroom is if you get lost.”

Roman nodded and left quickly, rushing through the halls and finding refuge in the bathroom as he took a shaky breath and gripped the counter with white knuckles. “You can get through it, Roman,” he breathed, staring at himself in the mirror. He hated the long brown hair he was forced to sport, now falling into his face, but he reminded himself he would be getting it cut the day of the wedding. “Damien even said you could get through it. It’ll hurt like hell, but if he thinks you can do it, and Remus thinks you can do it, and even the tailor thinks you can do it, then no matter what doubts you have, you can get through this. It doesn’t have to be unscathed. That’s what therapy later down the road is for.” He started to laugh slightly hysterically at that. “You just have to get through it. Reach the finish line. Everything that comes after that is after that. Not something you have to worry about now.”

Leaning back to assess himself in the mirror, Roman splashed some water on his face and took a deep breath, leaving the room and heading in the direction he assumed the ballroom was.

Eventually, he was rewarded with the entrance to a rather large room, with that horrendous bright yellow covering the walls. Damien was standing there, waiting for him. “Good morning, my dear,” Damien said. “I managed to convince our mothers to step away for a moment, so that we can talk alone, and get the awkwardness out of the way without them.”

Roman offered a smile and nodded. “Sounds good,” he said.

Logan approached the two of them from somewhere that Roman couldn’t see, and said, “Shall we get the positioning done?”

Damien nodded with a small smile and Roman offered a nervous grin. “I apologize in advance for crushing your toes,” he told Damien.

“No matter, my dear,” Damien said. “Did you listen to the song I told my mother about?”

“I did, and I think it’s perfect,” Roman said, genuinely smiling. “Honestly, the thought that anyone would do something like that for me is almost unbelievable, but if you think it applies...well, I’m certainly not going to say no to such a beautiful song.”

Damien offered Roman a grin. “Perfect,” he said. “I was hoping you would enjoy it. Logan will take us through the steps of a waltz, and once you think you have it down, we can practice with the music.”

“First, you two need to get your hands in the right positions,” Logan said.

“I know this part, at least,” Roman breathed, taking Damien’s left hand in his right, and putting his other hand on Damien’s shoulder, and Damien got in position as well.

“All right. Now, let’s take the first step. Damien, you’ll lead. That means you take a left step forward, and Roman takes a right step back.”

They did so, and all the while Roman’s heart was thudding in his chest. He really didn’t want to trip Damien up.

“Very good. Now, Damien, you’ll take your right foot and move it forward in a diagonal, and Roman, you take your left and move back in the same manner,” Logan instructed.

And no sooner did they try it than Roman accidentally kicked Damien in the shins. Damien winced. “Gah, I’m so sorry!” Roman exclaimed.

“It’s not a problem, my dear, let’s keep going,” Damien said.

“This next part should be easy, you bring your feet back together. Roman, this will be your right, and Damien, your left.”

Roman nodded and together, they made the step. Roman giggled nervously.

“Now, we will repeat these same three steps in reverse,” Logan said. “And try not to kick anyone in the process.”

Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan, but looking down at his feet, he managed to not kick Damien in the shins again. “All right, that will be the bulk of the dance,” Logan said, walking over and forcing Roman’s chin up. “But you can’t look at your feet as you dance, Roman.”

“That’s going to be hard, and result in a lot of kicking,” Roman said, turning red in embarrassment.

“Be that as it may, you cannot stare at your feet for the duration of the dance, so try to keep your head up as you practice. Now let’s try again,” Logan said.

Tag List: @lunareclipse-13 @sanders-sides-crofters @blushy-gigglee-mess @wannacrymetoo @kaytikitty @magicalspacepanunicorn @bootsinthesun @pricklyfish777 @flowersanddinosaurs @leiasolo77 @birdybabybird @enby-phoenix @luna–28 @justagaygoose @the-prince-and-the-emo @fandomsandanythingelse @randommuffinyt @snekky-boi @thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot @twilight-trix @abby5577 @escalatingtoofast @friendlyfacestabbing @remus-is-stinky @foggybanditdreampeanut @ghostskull300 @sprinklestheditty @canvas-the-florist @askthesnake @samuel-the-gay @determination-saved @beyondthestacks @juicy-cashew @loganpatton @lilbeanblr @kittyboof8 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @sanders-trash-4ever @hamilspntrash @swords-and-kittens @phantomfander @narniasfinestavengingsociopath @rjmeta @ambersky0319 @anni-cat-flower @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @nafsbluebery @redisawerewolf23 @voidvirgil

#roceit #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #deceit sanders #logan sanders #royal growing pains #our creations

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obviouslyelementary · 5 years ago

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A High School Life - Chapter 2

Relationships: Creativitwins; Anxceit friendship; Logicality friendship.

Enjoy!

Chapter 2 - Second First Day

Oh, first day of classes after the wonderful winter break! It felt like a breath of fresh air coming through his window into his nose, filling up his lungs and making him feel light and beautiful. The sun was making this winter morning slightly more manageable, with the sun shining bright on the sky, the breeze slightly cold on his skin, making him shiver and appreciate the robe he was wrapping around himself, warm and fuzzy, his feet finding their way into his little slippers, just so he could rise out of bed and make his way to the bathroom. But before, of course, opening the curtains and windows wide and letting all that morning goodness make its way inside his room, his skin being warmed up by the sun, hair floating with the wind. A beautiful winter morning, chill and sweet, perfect for going back to school.

Well, it was perfect, until his annoying mess of a brother put on his god damned punk screamo music as loud as he possibly could.

Roman groaned to himself as those loud bangs and pows made their way into his ears and he looked over at his brother's window, next to his own, seeing the glass and curtains closed. God, their walls were thick, but not that thick! He growled and pulled away before he took a deep breath and calmed himself down. He could still hear the birds, feel the freshness of the green grass, everything was fine... his brother would not ruin his d-

"ROMAN!" he heard the scream, before there were a bunch of punches on his door. Oh that was it. Roman wrapped his robe tight around his waist and walked to his door, unlocking it and being met with the ugly face of his gross twin.

"WHAT?!" he yelled back, angrily, and Remus gave him a suave smirk. God he was the worst.

"Can I get your hair gel? Mine ended last night."

Roman stared at him angrily, at his smirk and his wiggling eyebrows, and his shitty ass makeup. He, unlike Roman, was already changed into his usual clothes, filled with rips, spikes and disgusting neon green. It was horrendous. The... song was also ringing louder now in Roman's ears since both of their doors were opened, and seriously he wanted to rip his brother's head off.

"You... Stay right here. You are not getting inside my room" he said angrily and turned around, heading into his bathroom to retrieve the hair gel. Yes, they were rich, they had each one their own room and bathroom, and they had the money to buy whatever they wanted, but that didn’t stop Remus for not only asking for, but also stealing a bunch of Roman's stuff, from makeup to deodorant, and even clothes and more... personal stuff.

Ugh, Remus was horrible.

After a moment looking for the gel, he found one that was a bit older but not bad. Not because he wouldn't give a new one to Remus (not that he would ever admit that), but because he had learned to appreciate his curls in the last months and hadn't used gel for a while. He sighed, turning around to go back to his door, when he saw that not only Remus was inside his bedroom, as he had requested against, but he was jumping on his bed.

Yeah, that was it.

"REMUS GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BED!"

"Or what? You're gonna sing me out of it?"

"YOU-I HATE YOU!"

The screams would have been heard by all neighbors if they had any. Luckily, they didn't, and their parents always left home before they did, so they just kept yelling and fighting until they began to run late for school. Remus sure didn't care but Roman did, since his new objective was to turn into a 'good boy', so he had to be perfect.

And besides, Logan was probably already waiting for him next to the bus stop. So he needed to hurry.

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

Virgil was... not excited for school, to say the least. He hadn't been able to sleep very well the night prior, due to knowing that in the next morning he would be back to school again, and sure maybe it wasn't so bad but he still wasn't fond of the thought of getting inside a classroom filled with people, closed in all sides, having to share the same air with everyone for around two hours before he could leave and breathe again.

None of those thoughts brought him too much comfort, and not even thinking about Remus and Dee was helping too much.

First of all, Virgil was not a bad guy. He wasn't. He did... fine in school subjects, he wasn't rude to people unless they deserved it, the teachers all found him quiet but he didn't disrespect their class or caused any trouble, and he surely didn't manipulate people into doing what he wanted on propose. Sure, he was friends with the two most troublesome boys at school but he wasn't so bad, and he was determined to prove he could be someone who just walks by unnoticed like the middle grounders were. He didn’t want to be good, he just didn't want to be bad, and that was a hard fee. Why? Because he was friends with the two most troublesome kids in school.

Dee and Remus weren't bad on their own. Many times they had protected Virgil as one of their own, made sure he was safe and feeling calm, but they also demanded too much of him. He hated having to pretend to be rude around people they didn't like, he hated not being able to watch classes because it was 'skip class time', and all those little things they made him do were turning out to be too much.

He wanted his own life, his own choices, his own path, and thus he wanted to become friends with other people. But that was hard too. He was anxious, nervous, insecure, and he wasn't good at breaking the ice around people he didn't know. So hopefully something... something good would happen.

After he convinced himself to get up, Virgil made his bag and left his room, heading down the street towards school. He lived close enough that he didn't have to take the bus, but the walking over there still took fifteen minutes. And, Dee lived exactly in the middle of the way between his house and the school, so seeing him was a routine now.

And as Virgil predicted, Dee was there, in front of his own house, waiting for Virgil to come closer.

"Hey Virg" he said, smirking widely as he took his place next to Virgil. Dee was quite the scary fellow, always portraying a superior smirk and wearing questionable clothes (although Virgil could say the same about himself), usually too formal for a high school scenario. And the scar...

Virgil always tried to be open and understanding about other people, their personalities and their peculiarities that made them their own person. Virgil himself had some scars of his past, some that he showed and others that he wasn't still comfortable with sharing the story. But Dee... Dee wore his scar with so much pride. Like it was his favorite feature about himself. It made Virgil uneasy, every single time he saw it after a long time without looking at him. His brain almost created a version of Dee where the scar was nowhere to be seen, and he looked softer, sweeter... but that wasn't the true him. The scar fit him, Virgil concluded.

"Hey D" he said, pulling his bag closer to his shoulders, tense and hunched over as he usually was. "How was vacation?"

"Oh you know, the same as usual" he shrugged, and turned to face Virgil. He could feel his eyes on his skin despite not looking back. "What about you?"

"They were fine... any plans for this new year that is starting?" he asked, although he didn't want to know. Dee knew he didn't want to know, but he chuckled and said it anyway.

"I didn't give up on my objectives from last year... but now I actually have a target" Dee said, and the way he did so made Virgil feel a shiver on his spine. When he looked up, Dee's yellow eye was staring back at him, half of his smirk making the vision much more terrifying. "I won't tell you just yet... my plan will begin soon."

Virgil wanted to stop him, he wanted to tell him to quit it, but what courage did he have? None. Absolutely none. So he drifted his eyes back down to the floor and nodded.

"Alright... Tell me when you're ready..."

"No Virgil... I will tell you when you are ready."

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

Logan woke up with his alarm, as usual. He turned around on the bed and hit it to shut it off, rubbing his eyes and reaching for the glasses he had left on his nightstand. After retrieving it, he pushed it on his face and turned on his lamp, looking around at his room and smiling. It was so cozy in there, and he couldn't help himself to telling the stars of the constellations he had glued on his ceiling. He loved space.

After a moment of contemplation he rose from the bed, stretching and yawning as he pushed his feet into his slippers so they wouldn't touch the cold ground. He walked to the bathroom, doing all his needs, brushing his teeth and washing his face, before he walked back out and chose some clothes for his day. A dark blue button up shirt and jeans, as usual. He smiled to himself and began changing, or more precisely, removing his pajamas, when he heard a sound coming from his window.

He stared at it for a moment before he walked over, pushing the curtains and opening the windows wide so the sun could come inside and he could check what was making a noise.

When he looked forward, he saw another pair of windows opened right in front of his own, and two wide eyes and blushing cheeks met his glance.

"H-hey Lo! Sorry, I didn't know you were changing!"

Logan had to hold back the urge to roll his eyes, although when he thought of that he had already rolled his eyes. He stared at Patton, who was looking right at him, smiling brightly like he always did, and shook his head.

"Yeah. I'm changing."

So, there was something no one knew at school. Patton was the good, perfect boy, friend of all and example of humanity, and Logan... well, Logan was his childhood best friend.

Yeah... no one knew about that, because since Patton was one year older, they started school at different times and their friendship somewhat broke down a little. They also never studied in the same school until high school, and by the time they met again, Logan was way more reserved and friends with Roman, and he didn't want his reputation to be related to Patton in any way, shape or form. To be honest, Logan was quite jealous of him, although not jealous enough to not treat him as a friend whenever they were alone.

Patton was aware that Logan wanted nothing to do with him when they were in public, being at school or at the mall or anything like that where they could be seen by people from school. But at their houses, which were in a very suburban place, away from school, Logan didn't mind pushing those boundaries away to have a chat with his childhood best friend.

"I didn't know you turned out to be so hot" Patton said, in a weird flirty joke way, and Logan rolled his eyes again, smiling when he heard Patton giggle. "I mean.. you're looking good Lo! Congrats!"

"Um thanks... I'm going to finish dressing up and then we talk" he said, walking back to where his clothes were, not minding leaving the window open. When he finished changing, he went back to the window, getting there just in time to see Patton waving to a bunch of birds that showed up in the sky.

When Patton looked down he blushed, and Logan raised an eyebrow at him.

"Awnnnn don't look at me like that" Patton whined, pouting, and Logan shook his head while fixing his glasses.

"You will never change..."

"I mean why change when everything is good?"

"Whatever. I have to go eat breakfast and wait for Roman at the bus stop. See you at school Patton."

Patton's eyes glistened in happiness and waved.

"See you at school Logan!"

#my fanfic #a high school life chapter 2 #a high school life chapter two #second first day #sanders sides #creativitwins #logicality #anxceit #all friendships or brotherhoods

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

Text

Hallow ch xii - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch / ?? - In which they will always find each other

Milah finally passed on a cold January morning, Emma quietly packing up her herbs and vials as she took off her glasses.

The three of them had grown close. Emma initially seemed off put by Milah, like someone caught where they shouldn't be. After her initial fear and Milah's reluctant acceptance, the two found a strange friendship in each other. Where that friendship ended, Killian and Emma's began. She was strange, an 'odd duck' as Liam had called her, but there was a part of her presence that made it seem like they knew each other, immediately making them old friends. She observed them with happiness, letting the couple regale her with stories when Milah felt up to it.

The only occasion that she ever made him uncomfortable was when he asked about the cause of the mystery illness, and in conjunction, her parents. The village doctor was as perplexed about the mystery illness as Killian, bumbling with answers while staring at Cruella and Isaac. Cruella had tried to be chipper but it fell flat, and Isaac seemed both perplexed and pleased by every day Milah was better.

Asking Emma about them made her have a visceral reaction, her fear coming to life. Although they had been her caretakers, it was clear that there was no love lost.

"They are not, and never will be, my parents," Emma hissed at him. She had just made Milah comfortable in her cot, and was trying not to wake her. Milah's decline was giving Emma trouble, her muttering increased when she did spellwork and it did little, already leaving them all on edge. Killian threw up his hands in exasperation, stalking to his lonely bed. They had all spoken about the inevitable day that there would be nothing for Emma to do, but in the almost two years they had maintained this hidden healing, he had begun to hope.

Milah had not improved, though, her voice and demeanor changing more than seemed possible. It was exhausting to watch her fade, and she was exhausted by their fussing, her intonation becoming tinny, and features softening. Worst of all, she had written out instructions for him, instructions he hated - her wobbly hand still full of hard lines that complimented his own flowery script: "How to keep on living your life".

She wrote dozens of letters to him, in different dated envelopes. Emma had organized everything to her exact specifications, making sure that Milah was taken care of and her wishes would be respected. When Emma was gone for the evening, either walked home by Lilly or Killian, Milah had commented to him more than once how grateful she was for this chance, and how lucky they were to have more time together. Emma had said something similar, but in her own odd way.

"I am thankful for the chance to see what you were, especially for so long. How you felt. What she wanted." Emma glanced at Killian, and briskly bid him good night when he looked perplexed.

When Milah had fallen asleep and not woken, Emma stayed with him, providing as much comfort as she could. She let him cry, didn't judge that he was weak for a man and a lord for loving his wife so much, didn't judge him for not having an heir or pressing Milah for children. She was different than the rest of the court, the rest of the village really, and never professed any sort of comments on his choices to forego the privileges of his title. Her help was invaluable as she laid out everything Milah had requested for her funerary details, allowing him to grieve. He bit back anger when she appeared to not come to the funeral, until he saw her much later after all of the mourners had left to the memorial party. Liam was the only one left with him, both of them standing in silence over the grave. He hadn't wanted to leave, couldn't stand the idea of more condolences, or a party of people who sang Milah's praises and her friendship when they were barely in her life at all.

Instead of a black shroud and black muslin mourning garb, Emma wore Milah's favorite color of soft lavender, her shroud silvery. Walking toward them like a ghost herself, gliding through the other gravestones, she sprinkled seeds around the open grave and in it as they stood audience. With a wave of her hand, lavender sprouted, blowing in the breeze. Liam sputtered, going red faced at the far above improper use of magic on such a day, but Killian held him back. Emma clapped her hands free of dirt, standing to look at Killian from across the gap of earth that held his heart. He gave her a nod that she returned before she turned to keep walking, disappearing out the east gate of the graveyard.

It was a blur after that, years passing as he adjusted to being alone. Emma stayed up in her far perch, and he threw himself into the library, opening Milah's letters when the occasion arose.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma fell, and worlds fell with her, pieces like bright sparkles of broken glass; each blending together and blurring into new shapes that caught and reflected light.

He was the light, caught and reflected in every world before it broke, before they crashed and tumbled. Emma held these dreams of worlds never to be so gently, sometimes fleeing from him to save them from destruction, sometimes letting the light flourish until it cracked them into smithereens.

It never mattered what she chose. All that mattered was the light being real, him being real instead of Other. When they found each other, and they would always find each other, they would remember and they could get out together. They had to get away from the Other.

The man in black rode across the desert on a black horse towards her tower, the spire's silhouette driving him on. He wore no red amulet, no red pendant, no red choker when he kissed her and demanded that they flee. Real. He was real.

He did not know of the dragon that guarded her and her cruel masters that ended his life. The world crumbled, and Emma chased the man in black as she fell.

He came to her cabin in a flower meadow, nails sharp on the wood, a red amulet on the fastener to close his collar. The Other. Emma fought, but it was so fast, coiled and ready to spring. Their meeting this time was brief, only a night together away from the Other. A blacksmith, his hands were rough in her own when he helped her down from her steed, cleaned and dressed her wound, gave her shelter, shared his meager dinner, and gave her a sword he'd made before she fled. When the Other caught her next she drew arms against it. The battle was brutal, the Other supernaturally strong in this place. Emma lost quickly but not before he was there and beside her. The Other dispatched her quickly, and the world was lost as she searched for him once more.

In a bag of down feathers where she had stowed away on his ship, he found her. He called himself pirate, but no actions could convince her that he was anything but good. He freed the poor and the enslaved, spitting on those who would enforce hatred. The Other had stolen from her, left her with no name, and no memories; she only knew that when she took his hand he was real. He called her Swan as he picked feathers from her person and off the deck for what felt like weeks, and they were together for years before they admitted feelings for one another. He tasted like lingonberry brandy, promised her the world, his own memories lost when the Other stole hers. He left her for what he promised would be just a moment. The Other returned, he did not. The jagged shards of that world hurt.

A minstrel forced to become a knight was the next time she found him, both remembering enough to know that they must find a way to stop falling, to end every world fracturing. She was a captured warrior, both of them consigned to a war they did not want to fight for kingdoms they held no loyalty to. Emma fled with him as he sang her songs, laughing at his attempted swaggering bravado. They argued about every subject he brought up, too stubborn to give in, still too much at war to find peace. In a heated match of yelling, he eventually kissed her silly just to prove a point. Emma drove him crazy, he said, challenging him more than any armies he had been forced to face. Sarcastically she snapped back that he 'must love it to continue on with her'. He whispered that she was correct at night when everything was calm; he loved it and her, her shrugged 'of course I am' in reply sending both of them into a fit of laughter. The neighboring kingdom ended them with arrows from afar, the Other smiling its crimson grin disguised as the queen.

The Other comes for her like a thief in the night, steals with wicked claws and a mad gleam in the eyes. With its thievery, it becomes harder to remember that she must find him. She has to, she has to find the real him, but the Other is everywhere Emma looks, seeking her out like the predator it is.

When Emma finds him again he is a King, dressed richly in velvet, and he has been punished by the Other in retaliation. It's a warning, a clear message that resistance has consequences that go beyond her own torture. The Other has given him horrors to relive, the loss of his family, of his betrothed, of his armies and good men. The crown sits heavy on his head, Emma only remembering when it is too late to ease his pain. She is a sorceress in his employ, remembering him as real when his eyes catch light that managed to peek through drawn curtained windows. There are many things the Other can take, but when she sees that look of loss resting behind that cold blue, it becomes clear there are things she must keep for herself: Find the real him. Never let the real him hurt. Get away from the Other.

Her touch is soft and gentle, apologetic. His touch is anxious, untrusting, not willing to care. There is so much she could have prevented if she had remembered. Here is not supposed to be about the outside or its pain; it's a mistake that's become a chance, a chance of what could be if only they were not what they were. This is the result of her playing savior and the unintended consequences of no good deed going unpunished, of falling for this plot laid by clever hands. Slowly, or what feels like slowly, he remembers himself. He relearns her, remembers how good their hands feel interlaced. They are together, they are remembering, they can get away from the Other together.

It takes too long. The Other strikes, but sends another player in this plot. Emma knows somehow deep in her gut : The Dragon is a friend. The Dragon is good she tries to explain, but then the Dragon is burning this world in an unexpected betrayal. The Dragon has betrayed her in the worst of ways - becoming her friend, gaining her trust, while all along the Dragon's people hoped for either freedom or revenge at Emma's expense. Either their prayers were answered forever, or at least they would be for a time, with the added revenge of taking her from the ones who consigned them to this fate.

Emma wonders what will happen when no one remembers; when no one can prevent the Other from keeping her empty and hollow. The Other wants her to be a husk, wants to keep her magic and nothing else. It suits its purpose, the Other is a demoness that twists herself or twists people's sight. She wears the colors black, white and red; the absence of color to remind her of the magic she uses to create illusions, all the colors in the spectrum remind her of her ability to bend her own image, the red is traditional and a reminder that it is the color of blood. She does not care how many Kits she skins to keep her own coat pristine.

That's the secret, the Other's vetted interest in keeping Emma empty.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Lilly was not someone who a person wanted to catch in a foul mood. Her temper was disastrous, fiery, and without end. It had earned her the title of 'Dragon Lady' among many of the villagers, although none were so brave as to say it in her presence.

Killian had never seen her wrath, until she stalked into the library demanding to know what had happened. When he had pointed out that as far as he knew she had been gone for years, leaving Emma to fend for herself, Lilly had scoffed with frustration and pressed him harder.

She would not take ‘nothing’ as an answer, forcing him to close the library early and march up the hill. Emma was pacing, her face tear stained as she muttered to herself. Killian could barely remember the last time he saw her, years ago when he had lost his hand most likely, when hallucinations had rampaged through his home. There was some surety that she had been there, but the memory felt wrong like all the memories surrounding the accident. The only thing that felt real about it was the ever present shooting pains of where his hand should be, now ending in a hook.

"I can't calm her. I've tried everything, but she - she needs a familiar face. Please," implored Lilly, dragging him closer. "Please just talk to her. She thinks that you are friends, and I don't know what Isaac and Cruella did to her. I wasn't there this time, and she's really bad."

"We are friends, but I don't -" Killian began. At the sound of his voice, Emma stopped pacing and looked at him with a blank stare, her eyes dulled, vacant. "Bloody hell, what did they do to her? Emma," he approached her warily, snapping his fingers on his one hand to get her attention. "Emma, love, what's all this?"

"K-Killian? Are you real?" Emma whispered shakily. "Please, please tell me you are real. Please, please, be real. I don't know where I am, or who I am, or why the time is wrong, I don't -" She took a wobbling step towards him, and he caught her, letting her cry in heaving sobs. Glancing up at Lilly, she shrugged as Emma continued to seek comfort.

"Real? I think I am real?" he whispered. Emma nodded in his arms, her face gaunt with deep bags under her eyes.

"Real. You are real, I can tell, and you're not a fake like you have been before. We mustn't tell, please, they'll make me forget and take from me. All they do is take. Lilly, you take, but never as much, and I'm so tired. It keeps happening, over and over and over again, but I need to find you. I look for the real you but they find me, they find us, and every time things get more jumbled. I can't keep shadows alive without knowing them, I'm not supposed to be here, the happiness is wrong. I have to find the real you and we have to go. I - I can't -"

"Hush now," Killian soothed. "It's going to be alright, Swan."

"We have to escape, okay? Please help me escape. We need to get out -"

"I can stay here, or help you take care of her, Lilly. If she's too much, or like this," Killian offered, stroking Emma's hair gently. She sighed, quieting against him. "She helped me with… with Milah. If she needs peace, I will hold her in it."

Lilly raised one arched brow in surprise. "Are you sure, Jones? She's… She can be a handful. You'll also have to steer clear of Isaac and Cruella. They want to take away this unpleasant behavior - they believe she should be a demure and docile little church mouse. Only happy thoughts."

"I'm sure. Milah would have wanted it that way." Killian stood with Emma cradled in his arms, helping Lilly put Emma to bed. She was exhausted, falling asleep as if she was sick with fever or very weak from strain, though Lilly refused to answer how she could have driven herself to such a state. Asleep, Emma looked at peace, the strange attack quieted. He looked around her bedroom noting that it was bare, but the front room sprawled with portraits of villagers, scenery, and strangers. Had Emma helped someone and taken in some sort of hex? Concerned, Killian returned home and poured himself a large helping of rum before rereading one of the many notes left by Milah.

"Consider it."

He traced the words in Milah's inky scratch before putting the note away. In the quiet, he did as she asked.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Taking Emma to the library while he worked was an effective way to give Lilly a break, and Emma seemed calmed by the endless tomes he asked her to organize. With a bonnet on over her hair and a proper cloak of navy blue or taupe, she was hidden in plain sight.

Killian had read the books in the library thrice over, but found that reading them to her was its own sort of activity. Milah had never cared for free-form poetry or the long dead history of past kingdoms, but Emma’s curiosity was voracious. She challenged him intellectually and was masterful about it, evenly debating philosophical questions or systems of government.

She surprised him by deciphering Greek to learn it herself, their conversation on languages revealing that they covered each other in what the other did not know. She still had moments of madness, but pulled herself together with gentle breathing as Killian studied her intently.

"It's you. It's really you. It's you, it's you and you are real, not a shadow, not her not her not her not her - real. You're real. Not my Killian, but real," Emma would whisper, holding herself tightly as she tried to make herself as small as possible. Killian found putting her in a quiet place, holding her hand, or sitting next to her while she rocked herself gently helped. She was genuinely embarrassed afterwards, but he couldn't hold it against her. It wasn't her fault. He could always find her to bring her back, even on her worst days; although there had begun to be an uptick in the amount of those.

"You've never had an episode this bad before," Killian sighed, his heart dropping when she glared at him and smacked his hand away. "Usually, you come back pretty quickly. I don't know that you do it to calm yourself, but you usually paint -"

"I paint?" Emma asked, sounding distracted. She mulled the idea. "August will be so proud of me. I was far more talented in music."

"You've painted for years, besides being our herbalist. You're very good." He glanced back to see her glare softening.

"I don't paint, you do. Wait - What do you mean, 'our herbalist'?" Emma asked, sharp irritation quick in her tone.

"The village, love. The village surrounding The Blackwater. It's alright, you have these attacks where you forget -"

"No. I don't," she snapped in frustration, trying to push past him.

"Emma, hey, I didn't mean to upset you -"

"Where is this cabin?" she interrupted with a rasp. "Hopefully that is real."

"Swan, it's alright." Killian had approached her slowly, as if she was a frightened animal. Emma shrunk away from him, and maybe she was one at this point, the pleading way she looked at him so full of fear, as if she didn't know him.

"Your hand, you have a hand! I know you, please, and I am a princess. Think about it, years have gone by but nothing has changed and things are too vague, try to remember exact dates - What did they do to us - Oh Gods where are we? Killian, what day is it?" Emma looked petrified, her breathing becoming rapid and her face going pale. He looked at his hook in confusion, its sudden shooting pain as if on cue. The accident was village news. How had she forgotten?

"Emma -"

"You don't understand, you can't understand, you're not you! You don't have a hook, OK, and none of this," Emma gestured wildly, her voice a shrill panicked whisper. "None of it is real! This shouldn't be happening, because it can't have happened. It's - I - Elsa is dead, Olaf is dead, Nemo is dead, Liam is dead - I didn't meet anyone but Elsa, Anna, and Ingrid. This - I wasn't there to meet Nemo. If anyone comes to you with a red necklace or white in their hair that shouldn't be there, they are not real, and do not trust them. Please, please I - "

"Emma, that is quite enough. No one is dead." Killian hissed. Emma looked at him with wide eyes, and he swallowed his anger as quickly as it had come.

She sat down and began to cry, Killian moving to shield her from any onlookers. "Swan, take a breath. You have to calm down or you'll get us in trouble. Please. I promise you that we'll leave and go back to the cabin, or stay here and I'll get you some tea, and everything will be fine, yeah love?"

Emma nodded, only slightly pulling away when he wiped the tears away from her face.

"But you have to calm down. You trust me, and I trust you, we're friends. Very good friends, even, since we were young. Please, Swan." Killian extended his hand, her reluctant hand in his own a moment later. She calmed around him, and fell back softly into daydreaming when the episode had passed.

The children of the village loved her, whether she was inside the library or out on a gingham blanket in the grass. Emma read to them in different voices, weaving compelling tales while they made her crowns of flowers. He had sketched her once or twice like that, Lilly framing one of the charcoal pictures in Emma's little cottage.

"The Darkness may destroy my body, but it can't touch my heart," she read, children sitting up in anticipation. The words made him shudder for some reason, as if an icy finger trailed down his spine. "That's the end of this chapter. I'll read you more adventures tomorrow, I promise."

When the crowd of children dispersed, he handed Emma an apple, both of them lazing under a cherry tree. Since coming down to the library with him, their occasional suppers, or their quiet strolls in the woods to forage for herbs, her face had filled back out where it was once hollowed, and she had gained color back in her cheeks. Her laughter came easier as well, something that made him feel…

"Consider it."

"Swan?" he asked carefully. Her smile was shy and slow, a glance up through honeyed lashes. "Would you - if I offered - is there something you want to do, or place you want to go, that you can't?"

"The market and the beach," she sighed dreamily. "They're my favorite places besides here. Before this, they tried to keep us apart, you know. You don't remember scaling a tower, fighting a dragon for me, riding across the desert on horseback, making me a sword, or being a pirate who discovered me. When you were really you, you would find me again and again. You took me so many beautiful places. I wish you could remember, we had so many wonderful moments. You're the constant, no matter how much I forget, you're the constant in those lovely memories. They were good, and you were good to me. Happy dreams. We have happy dreams, until we find one another, and then we must fly home - "

"Emma, that wasn't real. Today's been rough on you but you need to remember some of that isn't real. This is, no towers, or things like that. We are home. Alright? I can do the beach, but the market is tricky. We'll have to wait on that. The beach we can even do today." Emma beamed at him, and he had to clear his throat, air sticking in his lungs as his heart hiccuped in his chest. "Why don't we get you to the cabin, and I'll get us supper while you do some painting, then we can walk on the beach afterwards."

"That sounds lovely. Can I do magic here, to get us there?"

He looked at her with a frown, nodding. She knew there was magic here, but it was rarely used, a taboo. Not that it had stopped her before or on occasion his own occasional use in the library or to help quicken tedious chores. "It's just you and I, so I suppose… Yes?"

Excitedly she rubbed her palms together, trying to work something into being. Nothing happened. She frowned deeply, looking at them with frustration.

He flicked his wrist to bring them to the cabin, Emma's landing off balance as she braced herself on his chest. She shouted a curse, and he laughed to himself watching her. When she glared, he shrugged.

"At least you remember to be dignified."

"Shut up! Gods, I don't know which one of you is worse!" She threw a nearby paintbrush at him, which he blocked with his hook.

"You're sounding like yourself again. Throwing things at me too." Emma didn't respond, thumbing through her canvases. "What are you hungry for? The tomatoes, onions, garlic, and basil will make a good pasta dish… "

Emma nodded absently as she stared at her canvases, pulling some from the bunch. A brunette who smiled widely with her ashen blonde partner called "A King and Queen" dancing together; a close up of an intense woman in a red cloak, entitled "Ruby"; a swan gliding on the stars in the sky, a hook underneath reaching from where no stars touched. It was a newer piece, and Killian stepped by her side to see the name, watching her furrowed brows. The bottom of the painting had her scribbled signature and the words 'remember the Darkness'.

He shivered, and looked back to Emma, her face pensive before she turned away. Starting the stove pot and simmering the sauce in a pan, they set about the somewhat normal routine. Sweeping out their tracks and putting their shoes aside by the door, he opened windows to let in the last rays of sunshine and fetched a few pails of water for her water tank and basins. When that was done, he poured Emma and himself each a glass, sitting down next to her with their plates.

They walked along the beach at dusk, at ease in each other's company. She had calmed after eating, going quiet and airily replying to his questions. She seemed to be a bit sharper when they did dishes, coming back to herself as she usually did. Killian had begun to notice a cycle or pattern in her madness that he had noted, though he would never admit to keeping track of her or their own goings on, even if they were the highlight of his day. Being with her felt like nothing else mattered, as if this was the only thing that was important in his life. The rest of the world seemed without vibrance. They swam together as darkness fell, circling each other in the water.

Shivering in the cold air, Emma wrapped herself in a towel, watching him.

"Did you overexert yourself, love?" he teased gently as he joined her. Emma frowned, deep in thought. "Swan?"

"I don't know how to be around you like this," she whispered softly, drawing swirls in the wet sand. Waves lapped lazily on the shore, wispy clouds framing the night and bright moon.

"I don't understand -"

"I know. I know you don't understand. And that's - you're not supposed to be like this. None of this is supposed to be like this, alright? I know parts of this are real, the memories are different, they're off. Over and over and over again, we find each other, but you don't remember or I don't, or we both remember only pieces. The one constant, is you. This you. You're not who I know you to be. I wish you were, because I'm getting weaker, I'm forgetting and mixing everything up, and I don't want to…" She trailed off, burying her head in her hands.

Silence sat heavily for a period of several minutes.

"So," he said simply, stretching. There was nothing else he could find to say.

"So," she answered back in a sad whisper. Turning to look at him, her eyes were tired. "What, um. Our relationship or familiarity with each other here. Are we… Is there something…? In the other times where you found me, sometimes there was, but you and I never had this much of a history."

"No. Sometimes I think that maybe, but -" Emma's eyes widened, a blush staining her cheeks. He felt his own ears heat. "No, although I -" He swallowed thickly. "I mean, we have known each other since childhood. You just, you have this grace about you, and it made you seem different, so I've always - I mean my family has said that you are never going to get better in your madness, and they think that you are a witch, but I think you're wonderful - er, I think they just don't know you…" He trailed off, looking down.

"We've known each other for how long?" she whispered, sounding confused.

"Since we were children. After Mum had gotten sick, Isaac found you on the beach, your head bleeding. When we were kids, your incidents were nowhere near this bad. They only became a problem once Liam got engaged to Elsa. At their party you sort of… lost it." He scratched behind his ear, and looked embarrassed. "That's why Lilly takes care of you up here, for your father, Isaac."

Emma's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That man is not my father," she growled.

"Alright, your guardian then. After Milah passed, with your help getting her those medications, I came up to see you. Do you remember the library? I've been taking you there, and I thought maybe it would help."

"That childhood? None of that… I remember bits of it but it's like you changed the speed, made it go faster somehow. I remember it stopping at a dance and at Liam's wedding… I think he and Elsa stand out clearer because I have seen them or know how they act. It connects to your memory better." Emma made her fingers intertwine, looking at him expectantly.

He shook his head sadly and her face fell. "I don't know what you mean by any of that, Emma."

"It's like, it's as if there are two sets of memories in my head, and this one hurts me to believe so much, like I'm being drained." Emma pushed on her temples. "There's that and this dull hot ache, like I've been bruised inside and out, but worse. I just feel so wrong."

"I'm so sorry, love. I wanted you to be happy, maybe it's better if we stop taking you anywhere -"

"Killian, this is so confusing - it's not your fault. I know I - I wanted to go. Wanted to be with you for the day, trusted you, felt safe with you…" She let out a tired sigh that turned into a yawn.

"If it makes you feel better, I still do. It's like you're a lighthouse and I'm just trying to find you while you do the same, but I keep turning the wrong way. You're supposed to be different and sometimes you aren't you, but you are an imposter with the red pendant. I don't want you to be different, or wrong, or fake, because I like you like this. I have to find you, keep you from hurting, and get out of this place. I don't want to lose you, the real you, because you and I are..." She paused, searching for words. "We're close. I think. I feel like it's a bad idea to be with you in any sort of - in a relationship outside of - "

"Ah. I see," he said, and with difficulty tried to hide his disappointment.

Emma let out a snort, her smile retreating just slightly. "It's hard to tell, my feelings for you are so strange. I can hear myself, I can feel the sense of wrong, how pervasive it is. Whatever it is we're supposed to do is going to hurt both of us, and I know that. I don't want to hurt. Even more strongly, I don't want you to hurt." She frowned, staring up at him, tracing his brows, then his jaw. "I sound crazy, I feel crazy. I feel so much and there's more, I wish I could remember. I want to tell you I'll get better, but I feel like I am getting worse -"

Killian gathered her closer, feeling her shoulders loosen. "You're not crazy. I promise you that I will never think of you as crazy."

"Yes, a totally sane person hearing angry whispers in her head, that's what I am. The worst part is knowing how awful this belief is. You are so hateful in these memories, so… caustic. And yet I feel sympathetic because you've lost the ability to love, and you are so angry that you’re blinding yourself. There's another thing that's part of you and it's driving you mad, but it's not like this. The thing is evil, just evil, but if I remember I get so scared - stop, stop -" Pausing Emma jolted, falling back out of his embrace as she pushed roughly on her temples, taking deep breaths.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you," he whispered gently, adjusting her blanket. Emma pulled away emphatically, looking at his outstretched hand as if it was a snake.

"Like this, I don't know how to -" She threw up her hands in frustration, then turning to him with angry tears in her eyes. "You aren't supposed to be nice. You don't like me. You tolerate me most days. Wait - No. No that's changed, sometimes I… Sometimes I think that we could be something more if things were different. Sometimes you are kind."

"Emma, I don't hate you," he started, but she stood abruptly and began pacing. He hadn't noticed before how her dress clung to her figure, her hair drying in soft waves. How could she think that he possibly disliked her? If she knew how he actually felt, she would know that it was the direct opposite. "I don't think I could hate you -"

"No! You do, yes you do. You hate me so much. Or, you used to, but part of you does and always will want me gone. We have this bungled friendship or partnership of convenience and comfort and shared fears and feelings and sadness. You don't show kindness like this. You show it by making sure I have an extra blanket, the bigger portion, the safer place to rest. It's not like this, it has rarely been like this; the Darkness won't let it be like this. We have to-"

"Emma, you should sit down." Killian stood, covering her shoulders with the blanket she'd discarded. "You're going to freeze."

She blinked, slowly, looking up at him. "The Darkness. That's it! It's not here, so this is… If you're real, this is… that's impossible… " Very slowly, Emma reached to touch his face, skimming the scar on his cheek with quiet reverence. Killian felt frozen as she approached further, close enough that she had to hear his heart beating out of control.

"Are you alright, darling?" He breathed out slowly, watching her face turn from concern to wonder.

"I - Yes. I'm - I just - I just had a moment and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I am so sorry. Please forgive me for my outburst."

"Hey now, love - No need for apologies. If you get confused, or lost, I'm here for you. I'll find you."

"You'll help me get back? Even if it hurts?" Emma whispered, searching his face.

"Aye. I'll help you get back." Emma laid her head on his chest, and he gingerly brought his arms up to hold her. Her voice was muffled as she lay against him.

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"Thank you," she whispered, finally pulling away from him.

They made their way up to her cabin, Killian helping her stoke a fire. A downpour was brewing, its thick clouds whipping across the bay to hit the cliffside with angry fists.

"Stay here tonight. You… You told me once that you hate thunderstorms. I don't know if that has changed, if this you does or not, but…" Emma didn't as much as ask, as she stated it, half asleep in his arms by the fire. "Please."

At her exhausted gaze, he smiled sadly. “I'll stay, I always stay."

"Even if I don't remember you at all, please don't go," Emma whispered, and he nodded.

Killian felt his own relief. It was true about having never liked storms, a vague idea of why escaping him. He nodded, yawning slightly. She yawned louder in turn, both of them exhausted as they closed the windows and put out the lamps.

"Killian, remember your promise," Emma mumbled, as they crawled into her bed under the thick quilt. He hummed, thunder rattling the small cabin, both of them safe in each other's embrace.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Guide her through - Lilly, do you realize what you're asking me to do? What that would mean for her if I have to take her through that? I have no idea how to get her back - "

HAVE THE DRAGON TAKE THE SHARD.

A great beast roars, his head exploding in pain. He has to focus, focus on Lilly, focus through it and do not give in to what it demands.

LEAVE HER, GET THE SHARD AND LEAVE.

"There's no other way. Emma knows but says she can't do it on her own. I've tried to help her the best I can but they're going to get suspicious if I don't play my part. I have no idea how to tell them that she's pulling me back in at random."

"So you'll just be there, while they -"

"It's not ideal but neither is what's going to happen when you suddenly appear. At least this way it makes some sense. We're both frequent with our interactions, it is completely plausible that she would pull us into her worlds. You're closer to her and will have a better chance of getting to her."

Fire rages as the thing breaks him, takes his insides and rips them to shreds, screams its threats. Killian grunts in pain, looking back to the dais where Emma rests, paler than ever. Her lips have become tinged with the color of bruises. The demon is too loud, they have to hurry. He has to cleave it away from his bones to save her.

I AM NOT JUST A PART OF YOU.

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU PROMISED - - - AND WHAT YOU SIGNED AWAY.

DO AS I COMMAND.

"And you'll run interference?" Killian manages to groan. The monster wants control of his hands; they shake as he lays next to Emma.

VESSEL! FOOLISH, OBSTINATE, IDIOTIC, COWARDLY MAN! WHAT COULD EVER CARE FOR YOU BUT ME, YOUR MAKER AND MASTER? OBEY!

"As best as I can. My mother is beginning to see her mistake. It's not much, but it's more than I've ever gotten. If you forget, or back away, I'll be there to push you toward her again."

HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME? I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER, I WILL BURN YOU FROM THE INSIDE OUT!

I WILL MAKE HER SUFFER, JUST WAIT, JUST YOU WAIT, YOU SLUG…

The goblet does not spill as much as his hands tremble. It tries to make him gag, tries to turn his stomach, but the draught is like water and without taste. It works almost instantly, goblet falling away as he settles. Every muscle tenses; it tries to keep him awake and despite every attempt it is failing. Sleeping means it loses, and it shrieks at the thought of defeat.

YOU GO TO YOUR DOOM.

EVEN IF YOU COULD HELP HER, SHE WILL NEVER CARE FOR YOU!

"Good," he replies to its fear, and forces himself to fall asleep.

#Courtorderedcake #15th #February #2020 #February 15th 2020 #CSSNS #captain swan #CS AU #CS FF #Hallow #Fae #fairy tale retelling

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storms-dnd-archive · 5 years ago

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My Top Fav Starkid Shows

Since I just watched Black Friday’s digital release now seems as good a time as any to rank my favorite musicals from Starkid. I in no way think you should find these to be your favorites, they're just mine. I’m gonna rank them in ascending order and explain a little why I chose that spot. Please share with me your top lists as well! Also, please be my friend and talk to me about musicals.

12. Ani: A parody - I am sorry if I offend anyone, but I did not enjoy Ani very much. I did like how it seemed like a sports movie, and I didnt hate it. There were some funny moments. But on the whole, was just not a huge fan of this one.

11. A Very Potter Senior Year - I know the quality is lower because they didnt have the same sort of time or resources to make it as nice as the other shows, but I think that warrants to be lower on the list. Also, the songs were not as memorable and the plot felt like it was forced a little. Still enjoyable, just to many issues to be higher on the list.

10. Holy Musical, B@tman! - First, Lego Batman totally took inspiration from HMB, I can feel it in my bones. So, I liked this musical, but there are not as many really strong songs that I catch myself remembering or wanting to sing along to. It's a cute story and I really like this one, it's just a little lower in quality for me. Dark, Sad, Lonely Knight

9. Black Friday - This could possibly go up once I’ve seen it a few more times. I liked it, but the songs were not my favorite and as a story, it seems like it would have worked better as a play than a musical. But, maybe once the YouTube version drops I’ll feel differently. I have spoiler opinions as well for the show, about what I super liked. But that will have to go on its own post. Also, this has got to be the saddest show in the bunch. Like oof-a-rooni. I has the sad. - cant name fav song, but Dylan Saunders ya’ll -

8. Me and My Dick - Like A Very Potter Musical, this one is a classic for me. I watched it a lot when I was younger. I think it is incredibly funny and the plot is so off the wall surreal that a musical was literally the best choice medium it could have gone. This spot is mostly nostalgic for me. Ready to Go!

Bonus Tin Can Brothers: Spies Are Forever - Not the same group so technically should not be on the list at all, but it has enough of the same actors and people working on it that I think there is value in adding to the list. I really liked this show at all. The songs were ok, but like Black Friday I think it would have worked better without being a musical. Still keep the opening song but perhaps it be a play the rest of the time. The plot and story for this show are really great, the plot twist is amazing, and Curt Mega being a gay spy during a time during the Purple Scare is really something. (Check out Silvana LTD. on Youtube for a more comprehensive look on how brilliant this is.) Overall great show and I hope the Tin Can Brothers make more shows.

7. Trail to Oregon - With some really great songs and one of the funniest shows in the lineup, there is so much to lobe about Trail to Oregon. It may not be the most dramatic plot or best songs, but because of how funny and enjoyable it is, it deserves a high spot. Basically, just a lot of fun. You Gotta Go - or - Pays to be an Animal

6. Firebringer - LESBIANS! -cough- So, this musical is great. It has a really nice polished feel that I think shows how far Starkid has come from its humble origins. It's also an original story and not a parody of anything, and that in its own right I think deserves a high spot on the list. Because it shows Starkid are not one-hit parody wonders. I think there is a lot to love about this one, with the lovable characters, political commentary, and really awesome visual effects. Also, “I don't want to do the work today!” Into the Night!

5. A Very Potter Sequel - A really solid sequel. In its own right has a great plot while still tying to the first show's plot really nicely. Characterization is still great and all the new characters are very enjoyable. There are some great songs. Overall, it really pairs nicely with the original. Harry Freakin Potter - or - Guy’s Like Potter

4. A Very Potter Musical - The OG, a Classic. Forever timeless. Where it all began and without we would have none of the other shows on this list. I wish more people or studios would put musicals online. Original, parody, or otherwise. There is such a strong need for creativity and fun musical entertainment. More people should take a chance. But anyways, such good music. Almost every song is a bop. The characters are hilarious and the plot is amazing. I could go on but anyone bothering to read this post knows how good AVPM is. Granger Danger!

3. Twisted - I cried! This show is so well done. The blending of Wicked and Aladdin is so well done that you wish more villans would get this treatment. I would love to explore more stories in this manner. Not being a villain apologist but changing the story a bit and seeing a story from the perspective of someone everyone sees as a villain. Gosh, I love that concept. This musical is great and I have very little critiques for it. Also, Dylan Saunders. If I believed in Wishes!

2. Starship - This originally would have been my absolute favorite and has been for a long time. But TGWDLM is just so catchy and the quality is so nice. Starship has better quality songs if comparing the two. The songs are really what make this, where almost every number is perfect and lends to the plot in the most cohesive way of all the Starkid shows. Also, a parody of Starship Trooper and the Littel Mermaid, sign me the fuck up. That is so original! I love all the characters immensely and think that the character arcs are perhaps the best here than in any of the other shows. Overall, one of the best Starkid has done and I am always surprised it does not get more love from the community. Also, the puppets are so great ya’ll! The puppets! Ok so my favorite song is Kick it Up a Notch, and it's my favorite villain song and possibly musical song, period. It is so jazzy and cool and catchy, I sing it all the time. Dylan Saunders has an amazing voice and this song highlights it in all the best ways. Also, Pincer looks amazing. God, I love Starship.

1. The Guy Who Didnt Like Musicals - Number 1! So, I gushed so much about Starship, how could any musical top it? Well, that's what I thought too until I watched TGWDLM a few times. While being a parody, on musicals as a whole and old SciFi, it is a fairly original plot. The acting here is some of the more natural feeling and better acted acting in all of the shows. It could practically be a movie (and I've seen so many requests that it become a movie, like please please become a movie!) The songs are perfect and have an emotional punch with each placement. None of them feel out of place and the ones that do feel that way with purpose since the Apotheosis is unnatural. The plot is just amazing, with perfect timing on emotional impact and moving purpose. The characters feel real and have good arcs. And although it ends rather bleakly, the twist ending actually lends to how unique and awesome of a musical it is. (Giving me strong Little Shop of Horrors vibes.) Overall, this is a musical I have watched several several times and recommended to a lot of people. It is really great and I will be the first person backing any Kickstarter or call to action that a movie would need to be made. Best Song, besides all of them? La De Da De Day - or - Join Us (and Die)

#starkid #Team Starkid #starkid musicals #musicals #my top ranking #my thoughts #lost-in-pink #the guy who didn't like musicals #starship #twisted #a very potter musical #black friday

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empressgreyofphoenix · 5 years ago

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I Wanna Know What Love Is Pt 6

It was hot again in Gotham today, but not as hot as it had been. You pedaled your bike towards the direction of the circus to meet up with Jerome again. Yesterday was an absolute blast, with the pizza place, the karaoke, and the music session. And you felt that this day would be even better. But you realized right before arriving that you guys didn’t have a plan for today but then thought that you would let Jerome decide what he wants to do. You arrived at the entrance to see Jerome waiting for you again with his usual adorable grin. He was wearing yet another checkered shirt, a green one this time. He also had on black pants and his blue sweater. You hugged each other tightly, exchanging kisses on the cheek. “I swear every time I see you, you look more and more beautiful” said Jerome as he stroked your hair. Today you decided to wear a tight Sonic the Hedgehog shirt with purple shorts and flip flops, leaving your dreads down. “Ditto, my good sir” you said while stroking his cheek. “So I realized that we didn’t have a set plan for today. Is there anything in particular that you wanted to do?” you asked Jerome. He thought about it for a few minutes, then an idea finally came to him. “Well, there is one thing. After you went home on the day we met, my mother came home screaming at me over something stupid as usual. So I went for a walk to calm myself and I found this nice looking creek up the road. Could we go there today?” You smiled and nodded. “Of course! We could stop by my house on the way for a blanket to sit on. We should probably grab some bug spray as well.” Jerome nodded and you two mounted your bike and headed towards your house.

Jerome waited for you outside while you grabbed the blanket and spray. A few minutes went by, then you returned with the items as well as your iPod and Bluetooth speaker. You took off and he gave you directions to the creek, which was a lot closer to your house than you thought. You dismounted from the bike and walked the rest of the way. The creek was very serene and peaceful with its crystal blue water and beautiful purple flowers. A very romantic type of setting. How on earth you haven’t found this place before is beyond you but better late than never. Jerome laid out the blanket right at the edge of the creek where the water started while you were setting up the iPod with your speaker. You spray yourself with the bug spray and hand the can to Jerome so he could spray himself as well, then you sat down and snuggled up to each other, watching the pretty water and the trees rustling in the wind. This spot was truly incredible. Almost like a small pocket of paradise. You had your iPod in your hand and was scrolling through songs. “Any requests?” you asked Jerome. He sat and pondered for a few moments then held his hand out for the iPod. “Oh I got a song! I listened to it last night before I went to sleep and its been stuck in my head ever since.” He looked through the songs until he found the one he was looking for, then he handed the iPod back to you and the song he chose began to play.

“You’re so hypnotizing. Could you be the devil, could you be an angel? Your touch magnetizing. Feels like I’m floating, leaves my body glowing. They say, ‘be afraid’. You’re not like the others, futuristic lovers. Different DNA. They don't understand you.”

“E.T” by Katy Perry. And not the shitty version with Kanye West. You and Jerome were singing along to the music when you thought of something. “Oh, I almost forgot! My mom gave me something to share with you.” You then unzipped your fanny pack and pulled out what appeared to be a cigarette. “Oh thanks but I don't smoke cigarettes” said Jerome. You smiled with your eyebrows raised. “This isn’t a cigarette. This is a joint. My mom rolled it while I was grabbing the blanket.” Smoking pot was another one of your mother’s favorite ways to relax and it was one of your favorite things to do with her. Jerome’s eyes went wide. “Oh…you mean pot?” he asked cautiously. You giggled and nodded. “Would you like to try?” He hesitated for a moment, but then slowly nodded. You pulled out a lighter from your pocket and lit the joint, taking a few puffs. Jerome was watching you to see how to do it then you handed the joint to him. He took about two big puffs, coughed a whole bunch, then handed it back to you. He felt his body melt into a state of relaxation and euphoria while his mind became clear and alert. His adorable grin was in full view and his eyes were now redder than his hair. “How do you feel?” you asked him. “I feel really good, like I’m floating on air.” You smiled at him and snuggled up to him again. You were feeling pretty good as well and being in this beautiful place with a red headed sweetheart and good music playing felt even more awesome.

You looked up at Jerome, admiring his red hair, his blue eyes looking down at you, his pale skin becoming more and more pink. He was admiring you as well. He loved how your dark skin glowed in the sun, how the light made your eye color vibrant, and the cute bow in your hair. You gently touched your foreheads together, feeling the warm in each other’s skin. He then gave you a little kiss on the tip of your nose. You giggled bashfully. You couldn’t resist it anymore. You just had to give him a kiss on the lips so you did. His lips were so soft, almost like velvet. He kissed you right back which turned into full blown making out. Jerome had never kissed a girl before and it was just as magical and special as he imagined it would be. You slowly broke away from the kiss in an attempt to catch your breath. Jerome sighed with content. “That was incredible” he remarked as he started playing with one of your dreads. “Likewise” you replied. You touched foreheads again, almost as if you were trying to merge minds. “I wanna stay like this just for a little longer if that’s OK” said Jerome with his adorable grin. “As long as you’d like, Jerome. I love when you hold me like this.” You ended up staying there the whole day, silently cuddling with each other while listening to music and looking out into the peaceful water. You both had the same thought: that this felt like the worlds most perfect dream that came to life. A truly beautiful thing.

#gotham #jerome valeska #gotham fanfiction #jerome valeska fanfiction #mine #do not steal #please reblog #jerome valeska fandom'#gotham fandom #please share

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taexual · 7 years ago

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GOT7 / Being cuddle buddies but wanting more

Request: Hi!!! I love ur writing, can you do a got7 reaction where u guys become cuddle buddies/ napping buddies but u both want to date? Especially if you could add scenes where they cuddle and maybe the members tease them lol. Thank youuu 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

thank you for this request, i hope you enjoy!! 💕

BTS version of this request is HERE

Mark

When Mark wasn’t working, he was cuddling. He tried clinging to the other members but they were busy and had other stuff to do, so he didn’t want to bother them too much. You, on the other hand, seemed to love cuddling as much as he did. Which is why, whenever Mark was free, he was at your house, on your couch or in your bed, cuddling while watching movies, while listening to music, or just talking.

The members all knew where Mark was when he wasn’t home, so they didn’t even bother to call him when they needed him. They just called you, knowing that Mark was right there next to you.

One night, after Mark returned from your house at 2am (honestly, he would have stayed for longer but you had an exam tomorrow and he had rehearsals, so he had to leave), he ran into Jaebum in the hallway.

“Dude,” Jaebum said, looking at the watch on his wrist. “Did you just get home?”

“Yeah,” Mark shrugged his shoulders.

“Are you, like, moving to Y/n’s house permanently or something?” Jaebum continued, but he had started to smile already. “Because I’m pretty sure you spend more time at her house than at your own.”

Mark turned away from him because he felt the warmth spread to his cheeks. “Shut u—”

Jaebum had noticed it, though. “Did you just blush?”

“No,” Mark said, instinctively reaching to touch his cheeks and feeling how hot they were. “It’s just hot here.”

“Uh-huh,” Jaebum replied. “Seriously, man. Is there something you’re not telling us?”

Mark sighed and turned back around to look at him. “There’s not.”

“You sounded awfully sad when you said that.”

“Yeah,” Mark sighed again. “It’s just that… I don’t know. I really like being with her. I like cuddling with her. I like talking to her. I like listening to her. I… I like her.”

The more Mark talked, the wider Jaebum smiled. Finally, he patted Mark on the shoulder, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He proceeded to tell Mark how great it was that Mark fell in love and how he had to talk to you about this as soon as possible.

Mark was convinced Jaebum was right and he braced himself to tell you how he felt next time you two cuddled. Which was the next day.

Mark had a key from your apartment and usually, he always let himself in and just cuddled you, no matter what you were doing, but this time, he knocked on the door.

Confused, you went to open it and saw Mark’s flustered face and flowers in his hands.

“Oh no,” you said. “Did I forget my birthday again?”

Mark laughed awkwardly. “N-no. I don’t think you did. I just… wanted to ask you something.”

You were very confused about it but you opened the door wider, wanting to let him in so you could talk inside, but Mark shook his head.

“It’s an important question. I don’t think I’ll be coming over anymore if you say no,” he said.

Anxiety spread into your bloodstream. “What is it?”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You sighed in relief, having previously thought that he’d ask you to help him hide a body or something similar.

“Jesus Christ, Mark,” you said, clutching your hand to your chest. “You’re so overly dramatic.”

“Please answer the question,” he asked desperately.

“Can we cuddle and just call it a date?”

“That depends,” Mark answered.

“On what?”

“Do I get to kiss you at the end of the night?”

“That depends,” you answered with a small, teasing smile.

“On what?” Mark played along.

“How good you cuddle.”

A smile spread across Mark’s face. “You know I’m a pro at cuddling.”

You opened the door wider so he’d finally come inside. “Well, then let’s get this date started.”

read PART TWO of this reaction here

Every single person on this planet who knew Jaebum could have confirmed that he was never a cuddly person. PDA, and clinginess in general, was never something he enjoyed too much.

That is, until you came along. You were probably the only person on the planet who had the ability to turn Jaebum into the fluffiest mess of cuddles ever.

One time, right before Jaebum had to do a concert, the two of you were hanging out backstage. Covered by a rack of various different stage outfits, you sat on the black leather couch at the back of the room, with Jaebum resting his head on your shoulder, his breath tickling your neck. Both of you shared earphones and were listening to the playlist you made of your favorite songs.

Jaebum had one hand draped over your waist and was taking a pseudo-nap while you changed the songs. Suddenly, someone moved the clothes on the rack. A little startled, you raised your head and were met face-to-face with a smug looking BamBam and Jackson.

“Is he sleeping on you?!” Jackson exclaimed. “Yugyeom, come see! Jaebum’s asleep on—”

“Shh!” you whisper-yelled. “He was awake the whole night, let him rest.”

“He was awake the whole night?” BamBam raised his eyebrows, suddenly very intrigued. “Doing what?”

“Finishing a book, you pervert,” you shot back while BamBam laughed. “It was too interesting to put down. He went to sleep at 6 AM.”

“Hey,” Jackson said, then. “How come you know so much about what he does at night?”

“Because we skype a lot at night,” you answered like it was not a big deal.

“So, you skyped him while he read?” Jackson asked, even more confused now. “What is the point? Did you just stare at him while he read?”

“He read it out loud,” you rolled your eyes. “I listened. But I fell asleep before he finished.”

Jackson and BamBam both exchanged a glance. Then, they turned back to you to say something else but Jaebum slowly raised his head from your shoulder and looked at the scene in front of him with sleepy eyes.

“What happened?” Jaebum asked in a husky voice that was still laced with sleep. You tried to ignore the warm feeling in your stomach that his voice caused.

“We’re not sure,” BamBam said. “I didn’t think you were a person who fell asleep while cuddling someone, hyung.”

Even you expected Jaebum to jump away from you after he’d realize that you’ve been cuddling, but instead of that, he placed his head right back on your shoulder, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I don’t fall asleep cuddling someone,” Jaebum said, while his hand hugged your waist tighter. “I fall asleep cuddling her.”

“This ‘her’ being… your girlfriend?” Jackson asked.

Your heart rate sped up. You chose not to say anything and instead let Jaebum handle the situation. But Jaebum was in no hurry to reply.

“Why do you have to need labels for everything?” he mumbled tiredly and cuddled into your shoulder, forcing shivers to run down your spine.

Jackson and BamBam had nothing left to say or to ask. The grins on their faces told you that every question they had was already answered, so both of them left you and Jaebum alone.

And yet you were confused. Jaebum had nor denied, nor confirmed you being his girlfriend. And although officially, you were just a friend that slept with him (platonically!), you would have been lying if you said that it didn’t feel as if there was anything else between you.

read PART TWO of his reaction here

Jackson

He used to take naps every time he was tired but lately, he wasn’t able to fall asleep. He just lied in his bed with his eyes closed, singing a song in his head but never actually managing to fall asleep.

When he got sick of not being able to sleep during the day, he called you. You weren’t sure how you would help him, but Jackson seemed to have planned everything.

He turned a movie on, and wrapped himself around you, forcing you to laugh.

“Did you just invite me here to cuddle?” you asked, trying not to suffocate from the tightness of his grip and his body warmth.

“Yes,” Jackson answered. “We’re not just friends anymore. We’re cuddle buddies now.”

You laughed again but chose not to fight it. You were actually enjoying being so close to him and were about to start up a conversation about something when you heard him start snoring softly. Quietly, you tried to call his name but he didn’t react. Instantly, you realized that he had fallen asleep.

Tying not to move much so he wouldn’t wake up, you continued to watch the movie that he had turned on until you got tired as well.

You didn’t even realize that you had fallen asleep until you woke up. And you wouldn’t have woken up if Jackson hadn’t rolled off of you, forcing the cold air of the room to hit your body and cause you to shiver.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked when you opened your eyes.

“Kind of,” you answered with a yawn. “But it’s okay. I wasn’t planning on falling asleep.”

“I was,” Jackson said. “And I did. Thanks to you.”

You smiled. “Was this your subtle way of calling me so boring that you fell asleep?”

Jackson laughed.

“Not at all,” he said. “That was exactly the reason why I invited you here. To sleep with me.”

He must have seen you widen your eyes because he stopped breathing for a good minute.

“That… didn’t come out right,” Jackson said, visibly uncomfortable suddenly. “I’m sorry. I meant, sleep as in… sleep. Just sleep. Because we’re friends. Friends with no benefits.”

His rambling made you laugh and at the sight of you laughing, Jackson relaxed immediately.

“Don’t know why I just got so weird,” he said to you then. “What I was going to say before all of that, though, was that I enjoyed this. We’re definitely taking naps together again. Actually, are you free tomorrow at, say, three-ish?”

You nodded.

“Good,” Jackson nodded back. “It’s a date then. Well, not a date but… it’s, you know, we’re doing that, then.”

You swore you have never seen him so flustered, so in order to save some of his dignity, you tried to hold back your laughter. “You can call it a date.”

“I can?” Jackson’s face lit up.

“Sure,” you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s a date where two friends meet up to sleep. A platonic date.”

“Right,” he said, the light disappearing from his face, as you saw him swallow deeply. “A platonic date.”

Jinyoung

You were the one who got him into cuddling. Before you, he preferred to sleep alone and was certain that if anyone touched him when he was in bed, he wouldn’t fall asleep. But then he found himself falling asleep while spooning you several times, and he realized that you had a calming effect on him. He didn’t sleep that well when he was alone.

“You know what?” he told you one time when the two of you were cuddling on his couch, a soft, warm blanket thrown over you both. “I want to be like this forever.”

You smiled softly. “Me too. It’s really warm and nice here.”

“No, no,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I mean, it is. But that’s not what makes this so perfect. I just… I feel so relaxed when I’m with you? You’re like one of those drugs that calm you down, what are those called again?”

“Sedatives?” you turned your head to look at him. “Are you calling me your sedative?”

Jinyoung stopped smiling. “Is it bad if I am?”

“I guess not,” you shrugged your shoulders. “Because you’re mine, too.”

You were leaning into him, his chest right next to yours, and you could feel his heart start to beat faster after you said that.

“I’m yours?” he said, quietly.

“What?” you asked and then replayed the conversation you just had in your mind. “Oh, I meant my sedative.”

His heart was still beating really fast, but his face fell a little. “Oh.”

“Do you…” you started slowly but then trailed off, too scared to finish the sentence. You were sure your heart was beating just as fast as his now. “Do you want to be mine?”

Jinyoung watched you for a moment, lots of different thoughts running through his head.

Then, he whispered the next words so quietly that you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly. “Only if you want to be mine.”

“Let me think if it’s beneficial,” you said, making him frown in confusion. “If I were yours, I’d get to cuddle you for the rest of my life, which is probably everything that I want in life, so, in conclusion, yeah. I do want that.”

“Oh, good,” Jinyoung exhaled. “Because I can’t really provide you with much of anything else. You know, I’m not good at cleaning, and oh God, I can’t choose gifts for people, so Christmas would suck.”

You laughed. “That’s okay. All I need from you is to just be next to me like this.”

He managed to bring your body even closer after you said this and then smiled in content when every part of his body was touching yours.

“Good,” Jinyoung said. “Because that’s what I’ll be doing for the rest of my life.”

Youngjae

Whenever you were over at the dorm to hang out with the guys, you always ended up cuddling with Youngjae. It was as if some magnet pulled you guys to each other, and it was impossible to resist it.

This night was no exception. The guys had all crashed in the living room, watching a movie that Jinyoung had chosen. Some of the guys were asleep just there on the floor, others were really into the movie. You and Youngjae, however, were on the couch, in the furthest part of the room, all cuddled up and nearly asleep.

“Guys,” Mark suddenly called out to you. “It’s almost thirty degrees outside and the air conditioner is not working. Surely, you’re extremely hot lying that close to each other?”

“Cuddling is not about keeping warm,” Youngjae answered because you had basically dozed off already. “It’s a form of art.”

Mark snickered. “A form of art, Youngjae? Is that the type of art you’re into now?”

Youngjae felt you stir next to him and glared at Mark.

“Shut up,” he said. “Go back to watching the movie.”

Mark raised his hands up in surrender. “Alright, sorry. Didn’t expect you to get so possessive about this.”

“H-how am I possessive?” Youngjae asked, feeling even more hotness spread to his cheeks, despite it already being fairly hot in the room.

“Are you kidding?” Mark replied. “You get all grumpy whenever someone disturbs you and Y/n. And it’s impossible not to disturb you because you guys are literally always cuddling.”

“Not always,” Youngjae said not too certainly, so he rolled his eyes to add more effect to his words.

“Maybe you don’t even realize,” Mark countered. “Your affection makes everyone sick.”

“Affection? There’s no affection. We’re just cuddling. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Mark nodded. “And affectionate. You guys are in love.”

Youngjae must have jumped up a little bit after hearing this because suddenly, you raised your head in confusion. Mark, noticing that he basically woke you up, removed himself from the room to escape Youngjae’s fury.

“You okay?” you asked Youngjae softly. “What happened?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said, glaring in the direction that Mark ran off to. “Sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You only nodded, and rested your head back on his chest, while he started to play with your hair, a thoughtful expression on his face. Mark’s words really hit close to home. For a long time now, he’s been thinking that maybe the reason why he felt the need to always be touching you when you were together, wasn’t because he simply liked cuddling. Maybe it was because he had feelings for you.

And suddenly, he realized he wanted to do something else with you. He loved cuddling and napping together, but he wanted to do more. Actually, he wanted to do everything with you. And that confirmed Mark’s statement.

Youngjae breathed in sharply when he realized that he truly was in love with you and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do about it.

read PART TWO of this reaction HERE

BamBam

Around other people, the two of you were the best of friends. You both were a little touchy-feely with each other but nothing extreme, as long as you weren’t alone. People wouldn’t have even suspected that as long as the two of you were left alone, you found the quietest and softest part of the room that you were in, and lied down there to cuddle and possibly sleep.

“I’m going to tell you a secret,” BamBam said when the two of you were cuddling on the bench in a secluded area of the airport. The closest person to you was all the way across the room and you couldn’t even tell if it was really a person or just a random mannequin.

“Okay,” you answered, wrapping the jacket around yourself tighter. It was freezing in the airport.

“Wait, are you cold?” BamBam asked, completely distracted all of a sudden.

You shrugged your shoulders. “A little bit. But it’s okay. You were saying—”

Suddenly, BamBam moved away from you and leaned down towards his backpack that he had placed on the floor next to the bench. He unzipped it and you watched with wide eyes as he pulled a blanket out of it.

“Do you always bring blankets to airports?” you asked while he carefully wrapped the blanket around the two of you.

“No,” he said, leaning back into his seat and bringing your body closer to his to warm you up. “But I knew you’d be with me and you tend to get cold in well-conditioned areas.”

You smiled softly, already feeling a lot warmer. “Thank you.”

BamBam nodded. “Anyway, so what I wanted to say, was that cuddling with you is my favorite thing to do. Like, when people ask me, “what’s your hobby?” or “what do you do in your free time?”, I want to tell them about you and about how you’re the only person in the world who knows how to give the perfect hugs. Seriously, you’d win the hugging Olympics, no competition.”

You laughed at this. “I’m glad you think so.”

“No,” BamBam said matter-of-factly. He even sat up to look you in the eyes. “I know so.”

You were looking at each other, and it felt as if a firework went off. A firework that symbolized the end of something, and the beginning of something new – kind of like on New Year's Eve.

Wordlessly, both of you realized that you’ve been fooling yourselves. You weren’t just friends. You weren’t just people who felt very passionate about cuddling. You were falling in love.

Yugyeom

Yugyeom had returned from his tour and the first thing he did was call you and ask if he could come over and just nap with you. You weren’t going to say no. You had missed him a whole lot and were actually excited to see him and cuddle with him like you’ve done so many times in the past.

When Yugyeom finally came over, the two of you hugged for what felt like hours. It just felt so nice to finally be able to touch and feel each other again.

“Hey!” Yugyeom exclaimed suddenly as he pulled away. “Let’s build a blanket fort.”

You raised your eyebrows. “But aren’t you tired? You just got off the plane.”

“Yeah, so what?” Yugyeom shrugged. “Let’s do this.”

His enthusiasm brushed off on you, and you shrugged your shoulders, smiling. “Sure, let’s do it.”

You spent the next hour and a half assembling pillows, blankets, and various mattresses to build the perfect blanket fort. It would have taken less time, except you both were horrible architects, and the almost-fort collapsed several times before it finally managed to stay up long enough for the two of you to lie down in it.

As soon as your heads hit the pillows, Yugyeom wrapped his arm around you, snuggling up to your side, with his eyes already closed.

“You are tired,” you said, softly caressing his hair.

He hummed in response. “I wanted to do this with you, though.”

“Is it more fun to sleep in a blanket fort or in a bed?” you asked quietly, feeling as if you’d break the intimate atmosphere of the blanket fort if you talked louder.

“It’s fun to sleep everywhere if it’s with you,” Yugyeom answered in a sleepy voice.

Your heart started to race at his words and you prayed that he couldn’t feel it, but he probably did since he was so close to you. Yugyeom opened his eyes then, and watched you for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something.

And then the blanket fort collapsed again.

Pillows and blankets all landed on you both, forcing the two of you to squeal in terror and cling to each other as if that would protect you from the horror of being hit in the face with pillows – which, surprisingly, hurt.

Once the fort had finished falling apart, both of you doubled over in laughter.

“Wow, we suck at building forts,” you said somewhere from under the pile of pillows and blankets. “We really need more practice at this.”

Yugyeom laughed loudly.

“I love this,” he said, and before he could realize, added, “I love you.”

If your heart was racing before, now it felt as if it would break your ribcage because of its rapid beating.

Surprised by his own words, and almost scared of the sudden silence, Yugyeom shifted under the pillows and released you from his grip in the process.

“Yugyeom,” you said, realizing that he was going to leave without saying anything. He tended to do that when he dealt with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he said, standing up from the fort. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

You broke away from the pillows as well and managed to grab his hand while he tried to make his way past the ruins of the blanket fort.

“Yugyeom,” you said again and waited for a few seconds until he turned around. “I love you, too.”

And just like the blanket fort a few seconds ago, Yugyeom collapsed to his knees after hearing your words, and grabbed your face with his hands.

“I meant what I said,” he told you. “Please tell me you mean it, too.”

You nodded as much as you could. “I mean it.”

And then he kissed you and the entire world around you disappeared. The only thing that went through your mind after you felt his lips touch yours, was how happy you were that the blanket fort collapsed because this may have not happened if it hadn’t.

When he pulled away from you, both of you were breathless but Yugyeom had the widest smile on his face ever. “Let’s build blanket forts more often.”

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