#which has gotten the rest of the family sick multiple times in the past and no amount of telling him why that's such a bad thing ever

[lhostgil]

Continuation of the link below...Re. Prometheus Mythos + Related themes and Kurt’s Story Arc in the Krakoa era of X-Books

https://www.tumblr.com/lhostgil/720312946307252224/i-do-sometimes-wonder?source=share

[I do apologise if things are a little messy or disjointed; my mind often runs at the speed of a hamster on a hamster wheel, whist everything else plays catch up...with that said, lets see how far I can go with this. I do hope it makes for interesting reading, or a point for further discussion] 

In philosophy (Plato), a distinction is drawn between creative power (techne) and natural instinct (physis), with techne being presented to be superior.

For Plato, only the virtues of "reverence and justice can provide for the maintenance of a civilised society – and these virtues are the highest gift finally bestowed on men in equal measure."

This I feel is pretty much self-explanatory: it summarizes the problems faced by mutantkind throughout the Krakoa era, with Kurt’s line of X-Books trying to address the harsh realities of nation building without having centuries of established culture or history to form the bedrock of a properly unified society beyond “oh we are all mutants/have the expression of a gene that then classifies us as a group different from others (humans/humanity).” 

It is true that the mutants have traits that would ordinarily set them apart from the rest, but are those natural traits then what make anyone more superior than the other? In reality, just because another person might be more naturally gifted in a talent or skill, are they then no longer human? What then is the definition of having “human quality” or “the measure of humanity”? What is an acceptable definition of civilisation and society, as well as growth and progress be it as individuals or a social collective?

Across multiple cultures around the world, across all the different schools of rational thought--be it through belief systems, philosophies, even the sciences; we are all trying to answer those questions, and all of the answers speak true to one thing just in different languages:

“To be human is to impose discipline upon nature: civilization is at its root, a form of discipline imposed upon the natural instinct of sentient beings. Simply because, peace is an unnatural state that cannot, and does not occur without structure.”

People have forgotten this because for the longest time, we have not had to think about it, and we have taken it as a given. For we have all mostly been fortunate enough to grow safely in a global environment of relative peace and stability.

Peace is a product of civilization: we want to imagine and pretend that people are naturally peaceful. We attach human traits to non-sentient objects in an effort to humanise and rationalize that which is natural: chaos, entropy, the cycle of existence that is ruled by that of the strong...where the weak are culled. (See also the anthropology theory: Myth of the peaceful savage.)

Without civilization, all existence is the jungle: since antiquity, that has always been the case. If society was built on that bedrock of injustice, humans would never have gotten past being scattered family groups: civilization began when people defied natural instinct--caring for the weak, the old, the sick; when proof of people living past their natural time (healed bones from injury that should have killed that individual; because someone took care of them, smooth jaw bones proving that the elderly survived even after they should no longer have the natural ability to chew and eat)--that would have been the rule of survival; which is to abandon such burdens and look out only for yourself. 

And why? Because this meant that humans could learn from those before them, and those who should not have ordinarily survived (weak, vulnerable children, youth, those who need more attention/care than an abled-bodied adult); they could receive precious knowledge that would (should) have died out before it could be passed down in accordance with natural instinct and the survival of the fittest.

Throughout Kurt’s journey in the Krakoa Era, there is this underlying theme: the struggle to teach and make people realise--yes, it is true that we are endowed with power beyond comprehension but that is not enough, and won’t matter if we are unable to defy our instincts and act in contrary to them. 

Anyone who says that they fight for peace, is just waving about a misleading slogan; what they truly mean is that they are fighting for a form of discipline and order that would shape what is natural to a state of their comfort and liking. When people say they fight for justice, they are fighting for what they can take and establish as the essential foundation of a civilization. Without justice in the form of order and structure that governs natural impulse: such a civilization is built on sand and will not survive anything. The only hope against that, against that which is controlled by instinct is to control our own. 

[aplateoflasagna]

💙💙This is not a drill! TREASURE comeback is confirmed!!! 💙💙

I'm so happy!!! I missed our boys so much! 💎

The T5 release will be in July and the actual comeback is in August. That means there will have been 11 months between 2 album releases and that seems insane to me. But Treasure has worked so hard this past year, they literally didn't have time to comeback sooner. How do other groups do this? Straykids, Twice, NCT etc they go on tour but still have multiple comebacks per year. How?? Are they not severely overworked or is JYP, SM, HYBE etc just better at time management? (that might be it tbh lol)

It feels unfair to ask of artists to have a comeback during or immediately after a (world) tour, but fans see so little of a group during a tour that it feels as if they weren't doing anything (no new music or big promotions etc)

For example Blackpink has been on tour since oktober 2022 and it will last at least until August 2023. That's almost a full year of touring! Jisoo had her solo debut and they did Coachella and they will perform at Hyde Park.

Right now everyone is saying that they deserve a break, Jennie performed 3 songs with an IV drip today, but had to leave the stage because she felt so sick, Jisoo had covid last week, the girls have all been seen with injuries. Only now will fans be sympathetic. The tour will be over, October 2023 will come and go and people will complain and riot that Blackpink should have had a comeback by now, only a month after their world tour ended.

And like, I'm not pointing fingers here, I've also been impatiently waiting for Treasure to make a comeback. I've had to remind myself how hard they've worked since last october.

They did so much promotion on youtube for Hello era which gets overlooked a lot because they did less in-person promotion in Korea.

Immediately after the comeback promotions, they did 'Hello concert in Seoul' + The exhausting Japan tour from November until January while also rehearsing and attending award shows. I remember being so worried for the members because that schedule was inhumane, it was way too much. Half the members had gotten sick, Junkyu lost his voice for three concerts, Jihoon was severely sleep deprived etc + they had to film content for Treasure World Map (which all Teumes should watch btw! it really doesn't get enough appreciation. Every episode makes me cry tears because they truly act like family 😭)

January and february they were seen filming Tmap + that's when they probably filmed a lot of the new episodes of T-talk, 3 minute treasure, fact check and tmi-logs + they shot the welcoming collection

March was the start of their Asia tour where they kept shooting for TWM + multiple members have said that at the same time they were working on the comeback.

My point is, they have had back to back schedules for the past year, they couldn't fit a comeback anywhere until now. Ideally, Treasure would take a well deserved break now, the tour ended, maybe they could visit their families (I was shocked when Jihoon said he only sees his family 3 times a year because of their busy schedule) or travel or maybe just rest for a few weeks and take a break from their Idol life... But they can't... Because it's been almost a year since their last comeback and fans are getting anxious. Just this week they have barely uploaded on social media or communicated with Teume (probably because they've been so busy preparing for the comeback) and already fans were having a hard time (me included btw and I feel bad because I still have a lot of Treasure content to catch up on, but it's not new content you know? So it's just not the same 😶)

All of this to say that I'm so happy Treasure is having a comeback but seeing Jennie so sick during Blackpinks concert and getting the Treasure announcement on the same day... It just made me think about how much fans ask of Idols... fans keep asking for more until their favs are sick or injured because they are overworked and suddenly fans change their mind (They should rest!, the tour should be cancelled! etc) but they will have forgotten about that by the next day, because it's always more fun to get content and it fucking sucks to wait.

[pannacottawarrior]

of course my dad thinks putting your hands on sick people and praying out loud would cure them of their illnesses;;

[wastelandcth]

i’ll always come back to you - cth

summary: Calum wore a skirt. A stage reveal happens. 

author’s notes: I have no excuse but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 

warnings: Cal in a skirt (please it’s too good), car sex, PIV, calum blanks out a little, she’s back and better than ever!

masterlist || request || more doves

“What do you think I should wear?” Calum asked softly, his hands running through the different items in his closet once more, “It’s a pretty big show, I can’t just show up in something shitty. All I’ve worn for the past two years is either baggy jeans and a t-shirt or shorts and no shirt.” 

It was true, ever since the world had shut down and the band’s tour had been put on hold more times than Calum could count, his passion for fashion and finding new clothes to wear had been put on hold as well. Comfort and trying to stay sane in the middle of a worldwide pandemic had left him reaching for any signs of comfort to hold on to and keep him sane. But with the band’s first show slowly approaching and Calum’s nerves returning in the form of playing a fake bass while he tried to calm his racing mind, he knew he’d have to find an outfit sooner or later, and it’d have to be one to make him feel good about himself on stage once more. 

“I mean, I don’t think anyone would personally complain about you showing up shirtless to a show,” Dovey teased, her eyes tracing the muscles in Calum’s back as she sat on the edge of the bed, “I certainly wouldn’t.” 

“Yeah, but you’re a pervert so you have no choice,” Calum chuckled and threw another shirt towards his loving wife. 

The days had gone by and Calum had been stuck at rehearsals, trying his best to find the groove the band had long for ever since the start of the shutdown, but eventually, Calum found himself at home the morning of the show watching from the green room as the concert went on around the world. His bag, which he’d packed and unpacked multiple times that morning, laid on one of the couches. He knew he’d made the right choice, the look on Dovey’s face when he’d packed away the black fabric before she could get a peek of it enough of a reaction to make him smirk before he had rushed out the door at the sound of Ashton’s horn. 

“So, did you decide on an outfit?” Michael asked as he sat down next to him during a break in their soundcheck, watching as Calum’s leg swung along to whatever beat Ashton was trying to work out with Luke, “Dovey has been texting me all day asking if I’ve gotten a peek at it.” 

“Tell her to fuck off,” Calum chuckled, “I told her she had to wait like everyone else did to see it.” 

“Alright,” Michael huffed, nudging him playfully, “But we’re going to be the first to see it then.”

“Yeah, yeah, and she’ll manage to bully you into telling her somehow.” 

Calum looked in the mirror, inhaling a shaky breath as he fixed the collar of his suit jacket once more as he heard his bandmates chuckling outside of the bathroom door. With one final look at his outfit he opened the door and stepped out, goosebumps covering his skin as the cold air of the dressing room brushed against his legs. 

“Woah! Calum!” Ashton grinned, his eyes wide and his head nodding, “No man, that looks sick! I love it!” 

“Oh man, your dad is going to freak once he sees you on stage!” Luke nodded, “You look so good!”

“Guys, Dovey is literally going to kill us all,” Michael whined and clapped Calum on the shoulder, “You look fucking awesome, dude.”

Calum’s cheeks flushed, turning hot as he chuckled and shook his head, letting the curls he’d been growing out swish against his forehead while he tried his best not to push away his very excited and very supportive bandmates. It wasn’t until the room, which consisted of the four of them and their photographer started chanting for him to do a spin that he’d finally told them to fuck off. But with a spin, and a small bout of giggles that left him when the material of his skirt brushed against the back of his knees, Calum had never felt more prepared to play a show in his life, especially when he knew that Dovey would be in the crowd singing her heart out along with them all. 

Dovey’s eyes watched the crowd around her grow restless as time ticked slowly, minutes dragging on until the show would start. Her adrenaline was high as she heard an announcer overhead shout that the show would start in one minute, the pit in her stomach thrumming with excitement and the thought of seeing her husband and his best friends on stage again after so long. She knew how much Calum missed being on stage with them, how much he missed performing to a crowd of people singing the lyrics back to them, and so she knew that tonight’s performance would be nothing but perfect. The hum of a guitar backstage and the sound of cheers around her had Dovey on her feet before she even knew it, her wide eyes searching the stage for the man she’d married. 

“Oh my god, he did not,” she gasped, her cheers and clapping drowned out in the rest of the crowd as she saw Calum walking out on stage, “That bastard!”

On stage, under the shining lights and for everyone to see, Calum Hood stood grinning as his fingers moved easily over the strings of his bass. The silver chains, which hung across Calum’s waist, shone like his eyes as the set started. Dovey’s eyes tried their hardest to focus, her vision blurred by the tears that sprung out as she watched the love of her life sing his heart out on stage after too many months of being away from the one place he was able to lose himself in. The skirt, which Dovey was already drooling over, swayed along with every movement Calum made as she found herself swaying along with it, stuck in a never-ending dance she wasn’t sure she’d ever want to end. But when Ghost of You played out and Dovey’s eyes found Calum’s it was like the large crowds that had given her anxiety ever since Calum had mentioned the show and the loud music had all disappeared. 

There was no one but her and Calum standing there, swaying to the song that had meant more to them than anyone could have ever imagined. 

She knew their kids were watching from home, giggling and dancing along in the safety of their living room while the sitter recorded them for Dovey and Calum to cry along to later that night. But right now, in the moment, all she could think about was how despite all the things that had gone wrong and how scary the world had turned, she still had her family and the love of her life was singing to her in a room full of people once more. The set was over before Dovey even realized, her legs carrying her back towards the dressing room she’d left not too long ago and towards her husband and his amazingly talented friends. 

The night had become a whirlwind of events, Dovey’s arms wrapping around Calum and stuttering through her praises as her hands and eyes took in his after-show presence. Her mind was distracted throughout the rest of the promo the band had gone to do with the view of him in the skirt and mesh shirt that kept peeking in and out of view from where she stood with the rest of their team. Her eyes never left his as she watched him smile and laugh with the band and it wasn’t until the car door closed next to her and she watched Calum walk in front of the car before sliding into the driver’s seat that she let out the soft breath she was holding in. 

“So, what did you think of the show?” Calum asked as he pulled off the highway, his grin wide as his eyes glanced over at Dovey, “Did you like it? I think we did great. Yeah, the set was short but I think it we-”

“Calum, if you don’t pull over right now I will literally crash this car,” Dovey breathed out, her hand reaching out and squeezing Calum’s thigh gently. 

The car screech to a halt, Calum’s soft gasp lost on Dovey’s lips as she pulled him into a kiss, Calum’s body leaning over the console to pull her even closer to him. He and Dovey might not have been a couple of a thousand words, but he knew exactly what she was doing when her teeth pulled gently at his bottom lip. He also knew that they didn’t have much time before their car was steamed up and their moans echoed against the tinted windows, so Calum had to work fast. 

“Back seat, baby girl,” he breathed out, his forehead resting against his wife’s for just a second before she sprung into action, her soft laughter music to Calum’s ears. 

“I am. So proud. Of you.” Dovey mumbled in between the kisses she was leaving on Calum’s skin, her hips rolling against his and pressed up silver chains of his skirt, “You looked so fucking amazing on stage I couldn’t help but think about all the things I wanted you to do to me tonight.”

“Yeah?” Calum breathed out, his hands squeezing Dovey’s thighs as he helped her push up the hem of the skirt she was more than likely soaking through if his leaking cock wasn’t already at fault for it, “Gonna show me all those things you were thinking of?” 

“Mhm, only have time for one of them right now though,” Dovey smirked, her hand taking his cock and stroking it a few times, listening to the soft whimpers that left Calum as her own hips rocked against his solid thigh, “Have to wait until we’re back home for the others.” 

Calum’s eyes opened enough at one point to see the steam from their act fogging up the windows, the beads of moisture dripping down their foreheads matching the ones racing down the window next to his head. Above him, Dovey looked like an angel, her closed eyes and barely opened mouth making Calum think he was the luckiest man alive. His fingers had dug into her hips, soft whimpers leaving them both with every rock of their hips and Calum wasn’t sure if he’d ever want this feeling to end. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get tired of the way Dovey felt wrapped around him. He’d happily get lost in her warmth and never find his way out again if he could, but the coil in his stomach kept stretching and stretching, threatening to snap as he listened to Dovey’s moans grow louder and louder as her hips rose and fell with every one of them. 

“Calum,” she gasped out, one of her hands finding comfort in the soft curls she’d been playing with ever since they’d grown out and coiled against his head. 

“I know, I’ve got you,” Calum choked out, his own high speeding towards him as he felt Dovey clench around him as her hips paused and her whimpers were soaked into by Calum’s skin, “Oh fuck, baby, I-”

“Calum,” Dovey whispered, her soft kisses on Calum’s skin making the blinding white stars beneath his eyelids clear slowly, “Hey, come back to me,” she mumbled, the feeling of her fingers running through his hair grounding Calum back to the backseat of his car. 

His lungs hurt, the panting breaths he was taking sounding over the muffled music playing from the radio in the front, and his vision was still blurred as he watched Dovey leaned back against his thighs, her hair tousled and her dress still rucked up over her hips. It took him a couple more breaths, the thick air coating his lungs until finally, Calum’s hand found Dovey’s in the darkness of the car and he smiled lazily. 

“You back with me, Hood?” she asked softly and smiled, the gentle squeeze she gave his hand making him nod. 

“I always come back to you,” Calum whispered, “Always.” 

join my taglist: @hoodhoran @moonlightcriess @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lowkeyflop  @conversecake @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @ashtonsunflower @2fangirl4u @multistann @wiiildflowerrr @himbohood @in-superbloom​ @suchalonelysunflower @killmywildflower @sebsbrokentoe @nicebasscalum @letmereadpls  @xxxlaura

[chocolatecakecas]

The Fabric of Your Life

@spnprideweek day 1: coming out/flags

warnings: internalized biphobia, implied past physical abuse, alcohol mention

The first time Dean watched Star Wars, he was ten and his dad dumped him and Sammy at some crappy motel with a promise that he'd return soon. Dad hadn't bothered to register either of them in the local school, since it was supposed to be a "milkrun", so by day four they were both climbing the walls. And Dean was sick of it, so he took the money he had left, after buying a box of cereal and a three pack of mac and cheese at the gas station, and dragged Sammy to the video store he saw when they drove into town. He rented, Star Wars: A New Hope because he remembered some kid at their last school wouldn't shut up about it, and wow was that kid right. Dean loved everything about it, especially Han Solo, with his fast ship, and his blaster and his cool hair and, smooth talking. Every time he was on screen, Dean got this weird funny, excited feeling in his tummy, and he assumed it was because he wanted to be just like him when he grew up.

(read the rest under the cut or read on ao3)

It was the same feeling he'd get later, whenever he caught an old western at the movies and Clint Eastwood or John Wayne would saunter across the screen, but he tried not to think about it too hard.

When Dean was fifteen they were stuck in some small town in Nebraska for four months. The town was shit, but Dean had luckily made friends with this guy named Jake Preston who was two years older than him. They were practically inseparable, sneaking into movies, late night joyrides in Jake's crappy pick up, swiping beers from Mr. Preston to drink under the bleachers. And sometimes when Jake would do a successful donut with his truck, or con their way out of trouble, or wink at Dean before he snuck them out of school early, he'd get that same funny feeling in his stomach. But Dean would just chalk it up to admiring the guy for being so smooth and getting away with anything. Of course until the night they were drunk on the bleachers and Jake grabbed Dean by the shirt, smashing their lips together. And after the momentary shock, Dean found himself pulling Jake closer for more. But then Jake angrily shoved him away, as if it was Dean's fault and left without a word, leaving him alone under the bleachers, terrified about what he had just done and wondering if Jake would tell anyone at school. But it didn't matter because they quickly left town the next day, his Dad saying he finished up the hunt, so for years, Dean would just shove that memory off as a drunken accident.

When Dean was twenty, he kissed Lee Webb for the first time. They had snuck off while their Dads wrapped up the hunt, swiping a few of John's beers before heading to their motel room. They acted like assholes, loudly recalling the antics they had got up to on the hunt. And Dean found himself unable to look away from Lee's smile, his eye, his arms, laughing loudly at his jokes and felt that funny feeling in his stomach whenever Lee would laugh. And the next thing Dean knew, he was kissing him like he'd done with girls hundreds of times, but hadn't with another boy sinc-not in years. But unlike with girls, Dean was quickly pulling away horrified at his own actions. But then Lee was pulling him back in, deepening the kiss as he struggled to get Dean's flannel unbuttoned. And just as Dean was starting to realize that Lee wasn't going to angrily shove him away, and that maybe this was okay, he heard the door unlock, and was met with a very drunk John Winchester, who quickly made his opinions about the scene before him, known. And Dean quickly realized that he couldn't just push off this off as some drunken mistake, because that's the moment when he first knew.

And now at age 42, he's happily married with a handful of kids that are his in every way that matters, living in the suburbs with a big kitchen and a deck out back, and it should make those moments feel like a lifetime ago.

But he's still somehow there. They're still fresh in his mind as if they happened a few days ago, the feeling of fear still fresh. Even though he's come so damn far, he's gotten farther than he ever thought he would, he still feels like that terrified little kid again.

All because of some stupid, flimsy piece of fabric.

And Dean knows it's ridiculous. He's married to a man for gods sake, a man who he kisses in public and fights with in the grocery store and who's hand he holds when they walk down the street. And it's not like he's worried about anyone's reaction, since they were all at the wedding, they've been to dinner at their house multiple time, not to mention it would be a little hypocritical of pretty much everyone he knows.

And Dean knows all of that, but he still just feels li-

With a heavy sigh, Dean sits on the corner of the bed running his hands through his hair.

Because it's not that he doesn't want the "label", or thinks that he needs to have it or thinks the label is wrong. He wants the label. He likes the idea of being able to call it something. And he knows it's the right one because during the very few times he was brave enough to google it, he realized it was the one that fits the best.

So why can't he just hav-

Pulling his hands away from his face, he slowly turns to look across the bed, heart leaping into his throat when he catches sight of it. And he finds himself frozen, unable to look a way, let alone reach out for it.

And Dean knows he's being ridiculous because he's faced far worse than this. He's died so many times he's lost count, he's saved the world multiple times, he's killed monsters, ancient cosmic beings, been to other dimensions, he's fought Heaven and Hell, and damnit he's even fought God.

But after all of that, he's still afraid of a little fucking scrap of pink, purple and blue fabric currently clashing with the floral comforter. Paralyzed by fear at the sight of it.

So with a grunt Dean practically launches himself across the bed grabbing the offending object and he's on his feet again pacing around the room.

It's just a piece of fabric. It's just a word.

But you know it's more than that.

And something drops deep in the pit of Dean's stomach, as that familiar feeling of fear continues to creep over him, consuming his thoughts.

Because it's more than just a piece if fabric, it's more than just a word and Dean knows that. To him it means something more, and god he wants to have what it means.

Why can't he just let himself wan-

Dean's footsteps stall, and he finds himself standing in front of the mirror.

And when he meets his gaze, all he can see is that confused little boy looking back, that terrified fifteen year old kid, the twenty year old who was just caught and nearly killed by his own Da-no.

Dean shuts that thought down while he's ahead. Because he learned a long time ago not to let his father dictate his life choices, he learned how to stop letting his ghost prevent him from doing what he wants. He's already worked through and made peace with that trauma, well as much as you can work through that kinda crap, that is. But he's come a long way, he's married, he's got kids, he's got a family, he's got a life that he's damn proud of. So he's sure as hell not not gonna let John Winchester have a place in this.

Because this is about Dean. And what Dean wants.

So shaking his head, Dean finds his eyes in the mirror again.

It's just a piece of fabric. It's just a word. And it's a word Dean wants to own. It's a piece of fabric Dean wants to hold. So why the hell can't he just le-

Because you still can't let yourself have what you want.

His heart skips in his chest as he grips the dresser attached to the mirror

After everything he's been through. After saving the world, and Cas's confession, and the wedding, and the house in the suburbs. He let himself have Cas, but he can't let himself have this thing and-

Oh.

Dean can barely admit it to himself most of the time, but he's aware that he believes that wanting, is selfish. That he thinks his wants are inherently selfish things and so he can't let himself want. And logically he knows that's crazy because everybody wants something, but he jus-can't let himself. And for years he could barely let himself think about wanting Cas, and then after everything that happened he jus-he to let himself be selfish just once and want him. But that was only after he knew Cas wanted him too, which made Dean's want, "unselfish" because it would make Cas happy too. That want was technically for both of them, and that's what he told himself.

And that's why Dean hasn't been able to let himself want the label too.

Because wanting the label is something, just for himself.

And Dean chuckles lowly at the irony. Dean Winchester has free will for the first time in his life, and he still just can't let himself have what he wants.

He rubs a hand down his face, pausing when he spots the fabric in the mirror. Dean slowly looks down at his other hand to see it clutched in a white knuckled grip.

And he thinks of the way he felt when he first saw it on some website, after finally convinced himself to open his laptop in the late hours of the night all those years ago. And he thinks of the smile on Sam's face when he handed it to him after their weekly Friday night dinner, as he was on the way out the door. And how he never specifically talked about it with him, but Sam seemed to know anyway, like always. He thinks of Cas' understanding smile as he softly told him he definitely didn't need it if he wasn't ready or didn't want it, and how he didn't even have to come today. And how he never expressed any of this to him, but Cas seemed to know, like always.

And he thinks of how he might feel, holding the scrap of fabric a little more gently. And he thinks of how he might feel holding it today, where everyone can see.

And he makes his choice.

So with unsteady hands he releases his iron grip, and carefully threads it through one of his belt loops. He squeezes his eyes shut, as he tilts his head back up towards the mirror. Then he slowly opens them.

Dean's breath catches when he sees as the flag hanging at his hip, stopping just above his knee. He takes a moment just to stare at the way it sways slightly, side to side. Then his eyes continue their ascent upwards until they meet his face in the mirror. And he finds a small smile pulling at his lips, reflection becoming a little blurred.

Because for the first time in his life, Dean Winchester is going to let himself have what he wants.

Simply because, he wants it.

He spends the next few minutes just staring at his reflection like an idiot, and that thought causes the smile to grow wider, tipping his head back as a soft laugh bubbles up his throat.

But god he's felt lighter than he has in years.

"Everyone's here, are you ready to go?" Cas asks suddenly appearing in the doorway with a soft smile as Dean meets his eye in the mirror. His hair is a mess like always, but he's decked out in a rainbow striped shirt and socks, and he's even got a little flag painted on his cheek, and his smile grows even wider as his eyes pan down to Dean's waist.

And in three strides Dean's across the room and wrapped in his arms, staring into those wide eyes.

"I'm bisexual" Dean chokes out suddenly, voice thick as he releases a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding. He quickly looks down, unable to meet Cas’ eye, unable to look at his reaction. Then hands are cupping his cheeks, slowly tilting his head upwards.

"I'm so proud of you" Cas whispers, thumbs wiping away stray tears Dean hadn't realized where falling. It pulls a watery laugh from his chest. 

"Cmon, let's go before Sam starts bitchin’ about how late we are" Dean laughs, trying not to think too much about how big of a deal what he just said was. And he knows Cas can see right through him, but he thankfully lets it slide. But not before pressing a soft kiss to Dean's lips, and leading the way into the living room.

And later when Dean's standing downtown, he realizes he's more relaxed than he thought he'd be. Luckily nobody made a big deal about the flag at Dean's hip, and hell he even let Jack paint three little stripes on his cheek, but he definitely didn't miss the wide smile on Sam's face. And when they got to the small Pride event, Dean was surprised see a decent amount of people sporting the same colors, one girl even had her hair dyed the same colors, each person shooting Dean a small smile of acknowledgement. And now with Cas' arms wrapped around his waist, watching Claire, Kaia and Jack all dance around to the music blasting in the streets, as he wonders where Sam and Eileen have gone, he tries to memorize how he feels at this exact moment. Because he rea-

His thought is cut short by Cas suddenly pulling him down for a kiss, like he’d done a billion times before, but one of his hands comes to rest by the flag at his hip.

"I really am so proud of you" Cas whispers into the kiss, and Dean can feel the smile stretching across his lips, pulling him closer.

Yeah. Lighter than he's felt in years.

Tag list:

(please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed💛)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @bichaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @subbydean @organicpurplepants @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @writtendevastation

@tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @sinnabonka @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @icefire149 @dakiaty @seffersonjtarship @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @jewishdeanwinchester @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @aestheticflyer26

@slipper007 @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @winchester-novak @lyonessrampant @angelic-bee-enthusiast @nguyenxtrang @idiot-on-the-hill @fandoms-and-things @doreschary @confix @itsanending @thiscowboyisbisexual @milfcodeddean @blue-eyed-cutiepatootie @smokerdean

[thetargaryenbride]

Levi x Reader:: Marks

Summary:: Sometimes you hated those scars so much, letting insecurities wash over you and allow self-hate to take place. But Levi was always there to remind you how beautiful you were. 

Word Count: 1458

Warnings: Some nudity

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

｡☆ ❅ ★━━━━ ❅ ━━━━★ ❅ ☆｡

You let out a hiss as you slowly unbuckled the belts of your gear one by one, letting them drop heavily on the ground before quickly discarding your uniform and undergarments, throwing them in the laundry basket, leaving you bare. Blood flow finally began running smoothly and normally now that there was nothing to painfully tighten and restrict your thighs. You undid the taut bun, setting your hair free and relieving your scalp with a short massage as you proceeded to enter the bathroom. You let out a sigh of content the moment the hot water washed over your body, easing your sore and tense muscles.

The past forty eight hours had been nightmarish. You had returned from an expedition gone wrong. Two of your squadmates had been injured and as a good captain you had stayed by their side for hours as the doctors and nurses treated them. After that you hadn’t even had the time to wash and change as a mountain of paperwork had been placed on your desk. If that hadn’t been enough, the families of your injured subordinates wanted to speak to you so you had to spend more time reassuring them that everything was all right before returning to your tedious tasks. You had been so busy and just like that, two whole days had passed. The same could be said about the other higher-ups. Levi, Hange, Erwin, Mike and the other squad leaders and section commanders were up to the neck buried with work and in such moments you asked yourself whether it was worth to become a captain.

There was so much responsibility.

You wrapped a towel around your body as you finally exited the bathroom, now feeling more refreshed and clean. But when you stepped into your bedroom and passed by the mirror, you froze, slowly turning to look at yourself.

Your skin has always been easy to bruise and you hated that. Now, staring at your thighs – at the ugly markings from the belts marring your skin – you felt sick. And suddenly, you got reminded of every scar your body held. There was one on your calf when a titan had bitten down as you were trying to save a comrade from its jaws. At this point you probably had multiple scars on your back from the amount of times you had fallen, gotten hit or thrown left and right or smashed while fighting those monstrous creatures.

There was one on your abdomen too. It brought shivers down your spine every time you remembered how you obtained it. It happened on the day Wall Maria fell. The Scouts had returned from an expedition. Instead of returning to the base, you had asked Commander Shadis to visit your family – inform them that you were alive and ease their worry.

Your house was near the gates.

You had spent amazing few hours with your family – eating and laughing and chatting together. And then there had been an explosion and only a second later something heavy had rammed against your house. The sound of breaking and cracking of bricks and wood and falling debris had been deafening. You had almost been buried alive under the debris, a piece of wood stabbing you. You had thought that you were going to die. But someone unexpected had come to save you.

Levi.

That had set the beginning of your relationship. When you had asked him why he had gone looking for you despite all the odds, he had just shrugged, saying it was because you were the only person he was able to tolerate. It was valid, considering you were the first and only person to offer him and his friends help and friendship after they joined and you had made sure to shower them with lots of care and kindness.

You didn’t know whether it were insecurities or something else but right now you felt horrible. You hated those scars. You hated your body. You tiredly sat on the bed as you thought about all those other…normal girls who had clean, spotless, soft skin. Tears gathered in your eyes and before you knew it, you were sniffing, trying to suppress your sobs as you cupped your hands over your mouth.

You didn’t even hear when the door to your private quarters opened.

Levi’s eyes widened as they fell on your shaking shoulders. Your back was facing him as he stood silently by the door frozen, unable to move, his mind immediately listing and searching for reasons as to why you were crying.

His legs quickly carried him to your form and he crouched down in front of you, placing a hand on your knee. You flinched as you lowered your hands and looked at him through blurry vision before wiping away the offending liquid. He waited a bit, giving you time to compose yourself. When you seemed ready to talk, he spoke.

“What’s wrong?” it was a simple question but his tone was soft and soothing that you felt like caving in and telling him. But you were also ashamed. You didn’t want to appear weak or stupid in front of him. You didn’t want to bother or worry him unnecessarily. After all, one of the reasons as to why he allowed himself to love you, allowed himself to accept you and enter a relationship during those horrid times, was because he knew you could take care of yourself. He knew that you could handle anything thrown your way and survive and come back to him even stronger.

But sometimes you couldn’t help but allow a few moments of weakness. Was it selfish of you?

“It’s…nothing. I’m just being silly, that’s all,” you breathed out and he frowned, his hand squeezing your knee a bit scoldingly.

“You’re crying your eyes out for nothing then? You know you can tell me. But if you don’t want to, it’s ok,” he said as his other hand moved to grasp one of yours in reassurance, making you let out a sigh and close your eyes.

“I hate my body. I hate how…many marks it has,” you sniffed and prepared for him to say that you were behaving like a child or to berate you and scold you for being so weak, eyes squeezing more and more shut when you imagined every scenario.

But he didn’t do anything like that. Instead, what he did surprised you.

He gently unwrapped the towel and let it fall and pool around you, leaving you bare and exposed. You had half a mind to cover yourself with your hands but you were curious as to what he was about to do.

His face got closer and closer until he placed his lips onto your thigh, right over the still red markings from the uniform belts.

“Is it this one?” he asked quietly as he gently kissed it before moving to the one on your other thigh. “Or this?” he repeated the action before lifting his head, hands softly brushing against your legs and climbing upwards, passing by your hips, caressing your sides and resting there as he nuzzled against your abdomen.

“Or maybe this one?” he whispered as he peppered the jagged, long scar with fluttering kisses while his hands raised more and roamed over your back, fingers tracing each scar with such care and love that the tears started falling again. But this time it wasn’t out of sorrow or self-hate. It was because he was worshipping your body. He was worshipping you.

And it made you fall in love with him all over again.

“You don’t need to be ashamed of these scars and marks,” he muttered against your skin and your hand went to thread his raven locks. “They are a proof that you went through hell and you were strong enough to push through and survive. To keep living. Because if there’s one thing that’s worth it in this cruel world, is staying by your loved ones’ side and building beautiful memories together. That makes all the pain and hate fade,” he said before he looked up, his eyes meeting yours as one hand went to wipe off your tears, thumb brushing your cheekbone tenderly.

You gave him a watery smile as you leaned and captured his lips in a delicate kiss which quickly turned into a searing one as you tried to pour all your passion, gratitude and love through it. He rose to his feet and climbed on the bed without breaking the kiss, causing you to lay down as he towered above you, the hand that had brushed your tears still caressing your cheek with love while the other slid down to cup your breast. 

“Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

[footballxwrites]

I have a nice one for you and hope you’ll like it🤍 so I remember seeing this one interview from Sonny where he says that he’ll only get married and have kids after his career is over so he can concentrate on one thing at a time and apparently that’s what his dad has told him to do as well. So maybe where you both have been together for a while and you’re turning 29 this year and are obviously thinking about kids, you ans Sonny are settled and stable so marriage can happen whenever. You bring up having kids with him and he says that maybe in a couple of years when he retires you can have a house full of kids and get married cos football is the priority right now. You tell him he can’t be so selfish and serious cos biological clock and everything and get mad cos you’ve been together since y’all were 12 and he hasn’t even asked you to marry him, like you can do a long engagement if he reallyyyy wants to get married later, but nope- not that either. It leads to a huge fight and you decide to call it quits. He’s constantly thinking about it and then comes to see you a few days/weeks later. You can decide the ending ❤️

Thank you for the request I loved it! x

“Soooo...I was wondering if you fancied making a baby?” you randomly spoke, snuggling into his chest, half joking at the sudden thought as he shook his head with a small laugh, “jumping the gun a bit there don’t you think” as you shrugged, “was only a thought...but would be nice don’t you think?”

“Yeah, maybe in a couple years when I retire” he winked, placing a kiss on your head as your heart sank slightly, disappointed filling you even though you were certain of his answer before you asked. “We’re 28 going on 29 this year and you know, getting on a bit now. Not to mention we’ve been together since the teenage years” you replied, dropping minor hints here and there just to let him know what’s on your mind, only for him to sigh, keeping his attention to the tv and humming along to your long line of questions.

“Would be nice if you would actually listen” you snapped your fingers across his eye-line making him jump slightly, “I’m serious! I want a family with you Sonny...now” you whined, sick of the multiple excuses he kept throwing back, “and I have a career that I want to focus on” he replied in a grunt, basically giving you the simple answer of a big fat no. “Trust me so do I, but I also want a family with you and to marry the absolute love of my life...and I’ll be dammed if I’m waiting till it suits you!” you began in a trembly voice, the disappointment striking you as you saw his face screw up with a shake of the head. “What do you mean suits me? You really think this is all about me, how are we, who work full time in case you’ve forgotten, supposed to look after a baby and give it the time of day? I want children with you, of course I do but not right now...” he said, cupping your hands in his as he gently squeezed them, wiping at your few fallen tears.

“And a proposal? What’s the reason for not getting that yet then? it’s not like we have to tie the knot straight away...for gods sake I’ll be happy to wait a few years to marry you if you’re after a long engagement” you sobbed, pouring your heart out as he stumbled over his lost words, “It never crossed my mind...” he trailed off, “but this is all too much to handle right now...in 2 years I swear I’ll be ready”

“Bullshit, I’m not waiting till then, for all I know you could turn around and say you don’t want any of it then” you laughed, fed up of going round and round in a single loop with him, there was absolutely no persuading him, “I will, I stick to my word” he softly smiled back as you unwrapped his warm hands from yours and walked towards the door, “I can’t be sure of that though Sonny” you gently sighed with a sleepy grin before disappearing out his view...

———————————————

From there it was just argument after argument, neither of you able to agree to disagree and clearly wanting different things in life meaning at this point it was more a stress than enjoyment in your loving relationship and it got to your last resort of splitting up. Everything seeming such a waste, all the years together forgotten, the memories fading and in the end all for what?

It repeatedly crossed his mind, all his trail of thoughts leading back to you one way or another, so wishing there was just a way to go back to that night, a way to just not seem as self centred and heartless as he was.

“Please- just give me five minutes” he said, putting foot in the door and showing you a sorry look to which you sighed, not in the mood to fight him for what would’ve been the eighth time in the past week, “and that’s all you’re getting” you narrowed your eyes, moving aside to allow him into the house of your parents, glad they were out otherwise he would’ve gotten a right bollocking from them. “I’m sorry-“ he began as you tutted in a sigh, “why should you be, all you did was make your thoughts clear”

“But I was wrong, well not exactly wrong more...scared” he said, awkwardly scratching his head as you relaxed your crossed arms, “of what?” you softly asked, edging closer to him as you met his gaze, “I’ve worked so so hard to get to where I am today and was brought up knowing to have no distractions in life, whether that was starting a family or getting married, and I’ve always stuck by that...but it’s different with you. I feel like I’m ready for that next challenge and I was very much wrong to say I wasn’t...so please, don’t give up on us yet” he professed, your mind still processing everything as you stood shocked, a happy shock, and a warm smile forming across your lips.

“So, is that a yes I want kids with you and to one day marry you and spend the rest of my amazing life with you?” you gloated,throwing your arms round his neck as he eagerly nodded, you letting out a squeal of excitement, finally knowing yous were both on the same page, “what difference will a couple years make anyways, might as well do it now...like you said we’re getting old” he smirked causing you to giggle, “i hope I make a good dad” he said, fading deep into thought, “oh you most definitely will and anyways we’ll figure all the ins and outs of parenthood on the way, I love Sonny” 🤍

[cinnamon-roll-seth]

Not Good For You (Part Two) || JJ Maybank

- Part One

Two weeks after you and JJ’s break up you attend a party with the intentions of getting over him but he has other plans.

It had been two weeks since your breakup with JJ and although it killed you inside you’d stayed a far distance away from not only him but the rest of the crew as well.

You didn’t intend to push them away, especially not Kie whom you’d known your whole life, but you couldn’t help but think about what JJ had said. Of course they’d choose him, he’s a pogue. You’re a kook, you don’t have any business being friends with any of them.

Your father was practically throwing a party at the expense of your feelings. He was hardly around, he didn’t see how deeply the break up had affected you. Your mother, on the other hand, was worried for you.

You wouldn’t leave the house, spending hours a day simply moping around the halls. You also quieter than usual. You had your issues with your family, and truthfully they hadn’t seen you much in the past few years since you’d become friends with the pogues, but when you were around them you were usually happy and talkative. Now you’d hardly said a word in days and looked like nothing but an empty shell of her daughter.

JJ hadn’t been doing too well either. He was angry and withdrawn. The others had never seen him this way before, not even after the multiple times he’d gotten beaten senseless by his father. That night after you stormed off he’d told them about the talk he’d had with your father.

They all told him that he was an idiot for letting your dad’s words get to him and begged him to go to your house and make things right, but he stood his ground even though every part of him wanted to listen to them.

JJ felt guilty watching them miss you. The five of you had spent practically all everyday all day together for the last couple years and although he’d been the one actually dating you the breakup was hitting them just as hard as it was hitting him. He could tell they didn’t want to bring it up much for fear of upsetting him.

Three days after that night the four of them had woken up after a night of nearly no sleep. John B had yawned before saying, “Ugh I wish Y/N was here. She makes the best coffee.”

Upon seeing the hurt on JJ’s face he’d apologized and they’d all tried their hardest not to mention her since.

They all were currently laying around the chateau in silence when suddenly John B speaks, “You know what, I’m sick of this. I’m sick of being all sad and depressed because of...” He trails off but the others already knew what he was going to say, “We should throw a party.”

“A party? John B do you really think that’s a good idea?” Kie asks, running a hand through her hair.

“Think about it guys! I mean, back in the day there was nothing that a good old kegger couldn’t fix, remember?” It was silent for a moment while they all soaked up his words.

“I’m down,” Pope shrugs and Kiara nods as they all look towards JJ.

“JJ? You in?”

“I don’t know. Maybe count me out on this one?” The blonde boy replies and the other three groan.

“Oh come on JJ. You never used to turn down a party! And besides, maybe you’ll meet somebody and move on from-“ Pope stops talking as Kie harshly elbows him and turns to glare at her.

They all stare at JJ as he thinks it over and finally sighs, “Sure, yeah.”

Kie and Pope cheer as John B smiles, “Great, it’s a plan then.”

—

“Y/N do you still have that diamond hairpin that I let you borrow a few months ago?” Your mother asked as you watched her get ready for a party her and your father were going to.

“Um maybe?” You responded, knowing damn well you gave it to JJ to pawn off.

“Well can you go check your room for it please? It would really help out my outfit.” She pleads and you sigh.

“Yeah, I guess.” You walk out of your parents’ room in across the hall into your own, nearly screaming when you realize somebody is already sitting on your bed waiting for you, “Jesus Kie, you scared me! What are you doing here?”

“Y/N we miss you. All of us do, we’ve all been struggling with loosing you, especially JJ,” She whispers the last part but you hear it anyway and shake your head.

“Kie if you’re here to try to fix things between me and JJ then you should probably just leave. He told me exactly how he feels and trust me when I say that he is not interested in getting back together so please just stay out of it.”

Kiara’s heart sinks and she’s tempted to tell you the truth about why JJ said those things instead she shakes her head, “No no, Y/N. That’s not why I came. I- we’re having a kegger tonight on the beach. Please come, I miss my best friend.” She pleads.

“I don’t know Kie. Watching JJ flirt with and be all over other girls knowing I’m not over him doesn’t really sound like my cup of tea.”

“I doubt he’ll be doing that. Besides the beach is huge, you don’t even have to see him if you don’t want too!” She insists.

“And what about the other boys, what do they think about it?” You ask wearily.

“They don’t even know I’m here but I know they’d be so happy if you came. They miss the hell out of you Y/N. It’s not the same without you there.”

She stares at you for a moment while you think. You have missed them and going would probably get your mom off your back. But what about JJ, you know your heart isn’t ready to see him again. You know what, screw JJ. Like Kie said, the beach is big enough and there will probably be enough people there that you won’t even have to see him.

You sigh and nod, “Yeah sure, I’ll go. But if I see even a glimpse of JJ I’m out.”

—

“Damn it Kie, we’ve been looking for you all- Y/N!” John B yells when he sees you walking behind Kiara and you laugh as he runs forward and picks you up in a hug, spinning you around.

“Hey JB,” You smile, moving to hug Pope as well.

“Where the hell have you been?! We’ve missed you!” Pope asks after you pull away.

“The land of the dead,” You laugh, referring to your house but also referring to your mental state the past two weeks, “But in case you were wondering I’ve missed you idiots too...I suppose” You add at the end, jumping away as John B attempts to punch you playfully in the shoulder.

“Don’t ever disappear like that for that long ever again.” Pope says softly and you look at the ground, feeling guilty.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. We understand that you needed some time.” Kie reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder. You look up and smile at her weakly.

“Yeah well I’m over being sad. Now if somebody doesn’t get me a beer right now I’m leaving,” You smirk and they all laugh.

“Yes your highness,” John B bows playfully and runs off towards the keg.

—

“And that’s when he said ‘just yank the damn thing out!’ Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard him say,” The kids around you laugh as you tell them the story of when John B stepped on a fishing hook, chugging down the rest of your sixth (or seventh?) beer.

As the night had progressed you surprisingly hadn’t seen JJ and you were relieved for that, instead inserting yourself into a group of tourons that were already wasted and would probably pass out on the beach, unable to navigate the way back to their hotel.

You were also quite tipsy, just enough to have that extra courage to do things you normally wouldn’t, which is why you currently stood wrapped up in the arms of some random touron that you didn’t bother learning the name of.

The kids around you began a new conversation and you turned and stood on your tip toes, leaning in to the boy’s ear, “I’m going to get another beer and then you should take me back to your hotel.”

He nodded, eyes going wide, and you wink before walking over towards the keg. You fill your cup to the brim and head back to the group, waving at Kie with a smile as you pass her talking to one of her coworkers at The Wreck. You’re nearly back to the group of tourists when the voice you were hoping you wouldn’t hear tonight calls out your name.

You ignore him and keep walking but he follows and grabs your wrist, gaining the attention of the tourons near you, “Y/N can we talk?”

“Oh hey JJ. Guys, this is my ex-boyfriend, JJ. He broke up with me because I’m rich.” You say sarcastically, taking a sip of your beer.

“That’s not why. Y/N please, I need to talk to you, in private.” He pleads and you shake your head.

“Isn’t it though? You broke up with me because you were afraid of ‘dragging me down to your level’ and ‘ruining my hopes and dreams’, because apparently you think I’m only capable of being happy if I’m rich right? So yeah, essentially you did break up with me because I’m rich and your not. Or was it the fact that I’m too clingy and pathetic? What, did you come to tell me? That I need to move on because you haven’t loved me for a long time? Well sorry JJ but for once in my life I don’t give a shit what you’re about to say next so can you leave? I was doing just fine having fun over until you had to come ruin it. Jesus, you really don’t want me to move on and be happy. Who’s the pathetic one now.” You snap as everyone around you ‘oohs’ and you hear one of them say ‘damn bro, she told you’.

“God damn it Y/N. Of course I want you to be happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I- I didn’t mean anything I said that night. Please just let me explain.” JJ says again.

You hadn’t seen him tonight but he’d seen you. He’d watched from afar as you talked and laughed and when he saw you in the arms of that boy his heart broke even more. He couldn’t stand seeing you with someone who wasn’t him and with that he finally decided to tell you the truth.

Finally you roll your eyes, “You have ten minutes to explain yourself.” He tries not to smile in triumph and nods, pulling you away to a quiet spot, away from people.

“The night of Midsummers I had every intention of finding you Y/N. I wanted nothing more then to find you and have you in my arms. As I was looking for Sarah, to give her John B’s note, I ran into your dad-“ You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Of course my father has something to do with this. What did he say, huh? Did he tell you how dirty and poor you are and how much he hates you and doesn’t like you? Yeah he told me that same thing multiple times JJ but I didn’t break up with you because of it.”

“Yeah he started out with that. And I told him that I wouldn’t break up with you. But then he started talking about how being with me would ruin your life and how one day I’d get into trouble and drag you down with me and you’d have to give up your dreams.”

“And did you ever once stop and think about what those dreams were? Or did you just automatically assume? Just because I’m a kook did you think my main goal in life is to go to a fancy college, marry a handsome rich man, and have some spoiled little rich kids running around?” You ask angrily.

“No! No of course not. I- to be honest I don’t know what I thought.” He admits sheepishly, looking at the ground.

“Yeah well you wanna hear my dreams for my future? The ones you were so worried that you would ruin? JJ when I think about the future I dream about having more adventures with you and the others. I dream about us getting married out in the middle of the water on the HMS Pogue with the people we love most watching, one of them can get ordained to perform the ceremony, I don’t care who. I dream about finding a cute little house close to the water that we can call home, like the chateau, some place where our children and their friends can hang out and call home. I dream about having a bunch of little mini JJ’s and mini Y/N’s running around, probably having to break up a few fights if they have a temper anything like their father’s. I dream about growing old with you and watching our grandchildren grow up and have their own adventures just like we did and our kids will after us. Or so I thought. Funny how you broke up with me because you were so worried about ruining my dreams but you breaking up with me is the thing that ruined them huh?” You laugh humorlessly.

“Y/N I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, I know that. I know that I was wrong for what I did and what I said. But Y/N I can’t live without you. These past two weeks have been hell without you and I just want you back. I’m done listening to what other people think I swear.” He replies softly.

“I thought you fell out of love with me? Yeah because I’m too clingy.”

He shakes his head furiously, “That was a lie. I only said it to push you away, like you accused me of when I said it in the first place.”

“You called me pathetic JJ. You told me that you felt bad because I have no other friends and that you knew the pogues would choose you over me because you’re a pogue and I’m a kook.” You reply softly, more hurt now than angry.

“No. No you’re not Y/N. You might have a kook family and live in a kook house on the kook side of the island but you are a pogue. You’ve always been a pogue and I’m an idiot for not realizing it sooner-“

“You’re an idiot for a lot of things.” I laugh softly and he returns it.

“Yeah I guess I am. My point though, Y/N, is that you are a pogue. In fact the pogues aren’t the pogues without you. Nothing Is right without you. You do have friends, we are your friends. Nothing will change that. Even if you don’t forgive me right away or at all, even if you don’t want to take me back. I don’t care what happens as long as you’re in my life because without you nothing is the same.” Your face softens as you see a tear rolling down his cheek and reach forward to wipe it away.

You stay leaned in, just staring into those blue eyes that you love so much, the same ones that have caused you so much pain in the past to weeks. Finally you sigh and whisper, “Of course I forgive you. My dad got in your head, that’s not your fault. And I’ll admit I am a little stubborn.”

He smiles, “Does at mean?”

“Kiss me you idiot,” You laugh and obeys, cupping your cheek softly as he leans in and kisses you sweetly. After he pulls away he just rests his forehead against yours for a moment, soaking up as much affection as he can after missing it for two weeks.

“You didn’t address the pathetic comment,” You joke, pulling away and he laughs, standing up and offering you his hand.

“I say we go find out friends, yeah?” You take his hand and nod.

“Hey I thought you wanted to go back to my hotel?” The boy from earlier calls out as you two walk past.

“Sorry bro, she’s mine. Hey, maybe you should talk to your friend over there though, she’s been staring at you all night!” JJ calls and you laugh as he pulls you towards the pogues who are now grouped together around a fire.

“Hey! I see you two made up. Did dumbass here finally listen to us and tell you the truth?” Kie yells jokingly as the two of you sit down on a log across from her.

“He did and I’m not letting him take ‘advice’ from my father, or anyone, ever again.” You answer, curling into his side.

“I don’t plan on it. I promise, I’m never leaving you again. What do you say about making your dreams a reality?”

You smile as he wraps his arm around you, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”

So here it is, the end 🥺 I hope it did part one some justice and fixed your broken hearts. Can I just take a minute to tell you all how shocked I was when part one blew up? I did not expect it to get that much attention but I’m so happy it did. Ever since I posted it I’ve been reading all of your comments and it makes my heart so happy so thank you 💕 I’ll be writing more soon so if you liked my writing then be on the lookout for that 😉

Taglist- @itsskythoo @rudyypankow @downbytheouterbanks @obxlife @justsomegirlontheinternet @alltimekp @starkeybaby @timotaychalabae @fernweh-fangirl @howdyherron @mavelfanatic @hotel-colson @yeehaw87 @sofiluvschu (I hope I didn’t forget anybody!)

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 1]

this idea was stolen from @iam93percentstardust cuz i just,,,thought that this year was absolute shit and it would be nice to make a fic rec list of fics from this year that helped me through it. this will be over a range of fandoms and ships, but all fics were written this year. 

fics are ordered by the month they were published. ive tried to keep to five fics per month, but this is not obviously all the fics ive read that month - i just didn’t want to make this insanely long. 

im releasing the first half of this on the 1st of December, and the second half on the 1st of January 2021 - because otherwise it would just get so long (and also so i will actually have fics for December)

happy reading!! hopefully you find fics on this you haven’t read yet

***

January

The cat is mighty dignified (until the dog comes by): @five-wow

Steve and Danny find them on the pillow in the corner of the dining area, where Eddie is on his side, ass half on the floor because the pillow is more cat-sized than lab-sized, and Pickles is nestled between Eddie’s front legs, essentially being spooned and looking very I-got-the-cream about it. Pickles’ head is tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s head slots perfectly on top of Mr. Pickles’, like a furry jigsaw puzzle.

“They’re cuddling,” Steve points out, unnecessarily.

Or: There is a love story unfolding under the McGarrett roof.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America: @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.

Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

The Best Laid Plans (Of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

Fourteen Million to One: @tunastorks

Six months after Thanos, six months after Tony’s death, six months after Steve returns to his own timeline, Tony Stark turns up on their doorstep.

Brewed Awakening: @iam93percentstardust

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

February

the young, the reckless and the foolish: @bruciewayne

In most universes, they don't know each other, not in the slightest, or they hate each other, in a way that's perfectly logical for anyone who were to find themselves in a similar situation.

In this one, they've known each other since they were four years old and naively idealistic.

This is them over the years, against the odds.

a giant sign: @areiton

“Think you can get him to open the weapons division up again?” his CO asks, his voice hungry and Rhodey laughs because this--

“No. Tony hung up his weapons.”

“That’s not what the suit says,” his CO objects, and Rhodey shrugs.

Tony has always had rules, rules he expects the entire world to live by.

And then there was Rhodey, slipping under them.

my heart is driftwood, floating down your coast: @nethandrake

Tonight, there’s a stranger in his backseat. That’s not unusual.

He’s also sad. That’s not unusual either.

What is unusual is that the stranger is silent.

(One night, a stranger enters Steve's taxi. Nothing is the same again.)

Just A Cold: @/delighted 

There’s a new text waiting for him. It’s from Steve of course, and it’s vaguely threatening as most messages from Steve are these days. Still Danny ignores it, and now he’s really playing with fire. Maybe it’ll burn the cold out of him.

Or, Danny’s sick, and Steve can’t stay away. The usual comfort fluff. With a little cameo from a gently meddling Grace.

An Unexpected Guide: @/Rachel500

Danny Williams has hidden his Guide status to keep being a detective, but his time of hiding is up when he unexpectedly finds his Sentinel, Steve McGarrett in the midst of a tragedy.

March

Why don’t we (Collide the spaces that divide us): @five-wow

When they finally catch sight of each other again through the milling crowds, they’re both a little worse for wear. Danny’s left side is covered in glitter and every time he brushes a hand over his hair, more blue and purple confetti rains down. Steve is- Well, Steve is randomly shirtless, which is all things considered not excessively remarkable, but he’s also covered in smudges of colorful paint and has a very nicely printed bloodred lipstick kiss mark on his cheek.

“What did you do?” Danny asks, because it looks like Steve had a lot more fun than he did.

Or: Steve and Danny accidentally end up in the middle of something entirely new.

A Little Unsteady: @finduilasclln 

Written for the Tumblr prompt meme : "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Tony lashes out at Bucky for eating his dessert. Only, it really isn't about the dessert.

a national treasure: @starklysteve

Steve isn't looking for an apple and Tony decides his passion is to inspire young souls. -x- OR: the AU where Tony is a Youtuber and Steve is Captain America and somehow they still save the world together.

April

cycle through: @ambivalentmarvel

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Stark disappeared from his family home a month after the tragic deaths of his parents, Howard and Maria Stark, leaving a billion-dollar tech conglomerate without an heir and the world wondering what happened.

Twenty-three years ago, HYDRA gained another super soldier.

Ten years ago, Peter Parker’s parents died in what is ruled as a home invasion gone wrong but he knows was murder, plain and simple, because he spoke to the killer.

And in the present, Project Insight fails, and the Iron Soldier pays the price.

FOREVER-LOVE YOU-I: @/Eudoxia

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Especially for Tony's soulmate.

--

Companion piece to my fic Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended. This is Steve's POV, with a few extra scenes, as a treat.

(Edit: Sorry if you guys get multiple notifications for this. I just realized (about two hours after posting it) that I fucked up the grammar in the title and I HAD to fix it. YOLO, I guess.)

come build a home out of me: @maguna-stxrk

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

i don’t have a choice (but i’d still choose you): @nethandrake

There’s a name inked onto his chest, a name written in an all-too familiar scrawl. And it’s— It’s—

Steve doesn’t realize his body is quaking until he’s tracing the tattoo with a shaky finger.

Because of course that is the name etched into the skin. Like a brand, a reminder for everything he has done. An appropriate retribution.

Anthony Edward Stark.

(When Thanos snaps half of the universe away, he unknowingly leaves the other half with soulmarks.)

ua haʻalele ʻoe iaʻu (a ua hoʻomālamalama ʻoe iaʻu): @just-fandomthings

"The truth is, I was shot in the chest and nearly died, and not even three days after I was released from the hospital, you up and left-- and of those two, I'm not sure which one hurt me worse!"

(Coda to 10x22 because come on, we all need a better ending than the one given to us.)

Title loosely translates to: "You left me in the dark (you lit me up)" -- inspired by the brilliant song "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur

May

A Piece Of The Past: @hddnone

It had been so many years since Bucky had gone undercover in the Stark family's mob, he thought he'd gotten away clean.

Then Tony Stark slid into the seat across from him at his breakfast diner, and Bucky's boss has a new case for him.

the privilege of loving you: @starklysteve

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

It’s a desperate plea, half-shouted and half-whispered, Steve’s voice cracking at the end. Tony stops in his tracks, halfway to the stairs. He doesn’t dare to turn back, and he really doesn’t want to fight, or to leave, to spend the last month of his life away from his husband and their son. But Steve can’t know, can he?

-x-

Or: Tony has palladium poisoning, but he doesn't tell Steve and Peter

your pillow feels so soft now (but still you must advance): @firebrands

When Bruce is 13, he decides to go to boarding school. It's an opportunity for him to learn about other people, and how to interact with them.

Bruce has the misfortune of meeting Tony Stark upon his arrival in Roxbury. Bruce is moving into his room, and Tony opens the door of his room to watch. He looks a bit younger than Bruce, hair wild and eyes bright. Bruce has never seen a boy like him before—handsome and confident.

Bruce doesn’t like it.

IMPORTANT: This fic has them meeting at 14, then progresses slowly until they’re 17. Includes underage drinking and kissing.

This is set before Bruce becomes Batman and Tony becomes Iron Man and I have no explanation as to how or why they just DO Canonically, Bruce is 17 when he finishes school and goes around the world to train, so we're sticking with that

The Real MVP: @sword-and-stars (part of a series)

[“I have saved this Tuesday!” Sokka announces, rattling the bag upon reentry.

Zuko doesn’t even look up from his phone as he deadpans, “It’s Thursday.”

Okay, so Sokka is still having trouble getting his days right without checking. At least he’s gone back to sleeping at night! Going to bed at night is way easier when you have a cute, cuddly boyfriend who starts falling asleep around eleven o’clock. It also helps that he and Zuko are on solid gold butt-touching terms.

It’s been a while since Sokka has been on butt-touching terms with someone and it’s amazing.]

Or,

Sokka knows a guy, gets laid, and introduces Zuko to the merits of an afternoon delight.

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it): @riotwritesthings

There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch.

And one tiny little bed.

June

Nice Fingers: @anthonyed

A single compliment given by Tony stirs Bucky restless until he caves in and asks him out on a date.

With Steve’s help of course (whether he likes it or not).

The Darkest Touch: @starkrogerrs

This is the story of how Steve finds that it has been ordained that he is to marry a monster he cannot resist aka the God of Love himself, Tony.

It's Cupid x Psyche retold, but with thrice the amount of porn.

The Night Shift:  @weethreequarter

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Wind Beneath My Wings: @iam93percentstardust

Sam first meets Tony Stark in 2005 when he joins the EXO-7 Falcon program.

In jest: @/apathyinreverie

“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”

It’s a joke.

Of course it’s a joke.

Until it isn’t.

(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)

[ziracona]

Hello! I have always believed that Michael needed better doctors and good treatment. He was simply billed as "Evil". Sometimes I think that at that time they were unaware or ignorant of mental illness, and that is why Michael did not recover. I wish it had been treated better. I would like to know your opinion about it ;v;

Oh, absolutely. Michael is a very tragic character, and what happened to him was almost entirely Loomis’ fault, secondarily the system and his parents’, and like onyl 0.8% his own. It’s true that mental health aid has historically been really bad in most places, and even today treatment and acceptance—even in specifically medical settings—tend to be abysmal. Of course people knew less than they do now about how psychological stuff works, but bias, cruelty, and superstition as well as a system that enables and even to degrees outright encourages that is to blame for the awful treatment people woth mental illnesses and personality disorders faced and continue to face, not just a lack of knowledge, and the history is really heavy and awful to look over. : ( It’s horrific some of the things doctors have done and do to people just trying to get help.

Like, in Michael’s case, we’ve had a name and understanding of psychosis since the 1800s. Canonically, by the time the poor kid was six years old, he was hearing voices telling him to do bad things to people. He told his parents, seeking help, and they did nothing to help him—just told him it was his imagination—despite knowing hos grandfather had suffered the same symptoms. If they had only taken him seriously and given him therapy and possibly medication too, Judith never would have died. (I am not goong to say it every time, but all this information is official canon) Michael’s reason for killing his family members is wanting the vocies talking to him to be quiet, because it’s agonizing. If you’ve ever had intrusive thoughts (stuff like “pull into oncoming traffic” or “break that and see what happens” and such that don’t actually compell or force you to do it at all, and are always things you as a person deeply do not want to do, but nevertheless are really annoying or distressing to hear in your head), imagine that cranked up to 1000, endless and constant, but from voices that seem to come from around you instead of in your head. Especially as a young child, with no understanding what is happening to you, this would be incredibly scary and distressing—doubly so when dismissed by your parents, whose sole job is supposed to be to love and protect you.

The voices say they’ll be quiet if Michael kills Judith, so Halloween night, he does. Important to note here Michael is recently six years old at the time, which developmental psych literally is not old enough to have a complete understanding what death itself is, let alone complex morality. You /cannot/ be evil at six, you simply don’t have a complex enough understanding of right and wrong or of consequence to /be/ evil. Also at this age, usually kids see death as a vague concept, but one that applies to people they don’t know only, not to them and their loved ones. In Halloween 1978, immediately after stabbing Judith, Michael looks away while he keeps doing it, and his breathing speeds up in a scared way. He barely looks at the body, and immediately goes down stairs to wait for his parents—probably for them to fix it—and does nothing to flee or hide what he’s done. He looks traumatized when they take his mask off. (Lots of little notes here like that Judith when she sees him seems annoyed but not very, and when he attacks her, tries to shield herself and call to him to stop, rather than fleeing or fighting back, which [appealing instead of fight or flight] is pretty exclusively something you only would use if attcked by someone you are on good terms with—I mean, Michael is six—if Judith had /tried/ to fight back, no way she would have died—so there’s less than nothing to indicate they had anything but a loving familial sibling relationship. But if I list all these I’m gonna launch into my six page Michael Myers meta so I will speed through the rest.)

Anyway! Sorry, I have many feelings. About...everything. Including Michael for sure. So, immediately after killing Judith, Michael stops talking. He also shows other psychosis and trauma readily recognized side effects, like catatonia, slowed movement. In Halloween 1978c Dr. Loomis claims he tried to treat Michael for eight years, then spent another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized he was evil. This is a /blatant/ lie, as in film canon Loomis, by Michael’s review hearing I believe four months in? Six or less for sure, I believe it is four. Loomis has /already/ become convinced Michael is a demon in human form, faking his symptoms, and itching to kill again. The other doctors think Loomis is crazy, as does the other doctor who examines Michael, but they’re awful people so they let him stay Michael’s doctor anyway, even though they refuse to move him to Litchfield maximum security. By this time only a few months in, Loomis is canonically also threatening the six year old in his care and constantly telling him he is an evil being who wants to get out and terrorize again. (Also, I will die enraged the sentance Michael gets for killing Judith is to remain locked in solitary in a sanitorium for /15/ years, until he turns 21, at which point he will be tried as an adult for murder??? The fuck?? You CANNOT charge a 6 year old’s crime in adult court! ‘Tried as an adult’ is meant for like, when a 17 year old dismembers their family and eats them! It’s for particularly heinous crimes, committed by someone /very/ close to being legally an adult, and that /only/. The idea of waiting fifteen years to try someone as an adult for something done at age six is laughable and sick).

Okay this is already long, I get carried away rip. Uhhh, anyway, yeah. In Smith’s Grove, Michael is visited by mom and Laurie once, then never sees any of his family again, because his dad hates him and forbids the others—finds out because Laurie is four and talks that they went /one/ time, and physically beats four year old Laurie for mentioning his name until she trauma blocks out ever having had a brother. From then on, Michael spends /fifteen/ years and all the dest of his developmental stages of childhood in a sanitorium with Dr. Loomis—a man who on wild religious superstition grounds assumes by his own admission /on sight/ that Michael is evil, and no other human contact. According to canon, Michael spends at least four hours of /every/ day with Loomis, his /only/ human contact, who threatens him, promises to stop him, and endlessly barrages him with “You’re evil, you’re not human, you want to kill again, I /will/ stop you,” and nothing else. He also canonically keeps Michael overdosed on a type of antipsychotic that, while a fine drug if used normally, if overdosed can deeply worsen symptoms, and can cause permanent brain damage.

Honestly, if a six year old is exposed yo major trauma, none of their issues are explained, legitimized, or believed, and almost all of their developmental stage is spent with endless voices they don’t know the cause of suggesting murder and violence, one human being and authority figure telling them over and over and over for fifteen years with no other constant in their life or human contact period that they are a demon in human form who wants to kill and is /going/ to do so again...? How else was that story ever going to end? I’ve said it before, but that’s beyond conditioning; it’s lab growing a human child to one day walk out and murder Laurie Strode with a large kitchen knife.

I stand by Halloween is a greek tragedy more than a slasher, and Michael and Laurie are both victims. He’s the Asterios, she’s the Ariadne. Loomis the Minos, the real villain. (Or the Poseidon choose your poison).

Anyway, I 100% agree! If he had just gotten help from his parents, Judith would have never died. If he’d had good doctors, none of the events of 1978 would have come to pass, or anything after it. Loomis single-handedly causes the deaths in 1978 himself through years of cruelty, and bigoted bias towards a small child in his care who needed his help, not his abuse, but he chose to break as much as he possibly could despite his responsibilities as a doctor, an adult, and a human.

If you’re interested, I did a canon-deep-dive character study short story on Michael on AO3! Halloween is such a sad story but it’s fascinating. God, poor Michael and Laurie deserved so much better than they got. It’s a testament to Michael’s character that even after 15 years of Dr. Loomis, he really only kills his intented target(s) in search of quiet from the voices, and anyone who sees him/would be a threat, and not other people. Makes no attempt to kill any of the kids in Halloween 2018, and only kills Bob when he literally opens the door to his hiding spot and Michael is found and Bob becomes a threat to him. In H20, after Michael has had 20 years on his own, you get arguably the least brutal Michael, who intentionally passes on killing the mother and child, and the security guard he walks right past, because they don’t see him and thus he doesn’t /have/ to. Halloween II is less intentionally avoiding, but even then he still does the same multiple times too, like with the old lady making a sandwich, or the scene in the incubator room. Anyway he desevered better fuck Loomis all my homies hate Loomis.

[crispycrimebrulee]

🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 24: Illumi x I’ll Be Home For Christmas🎄

He was supposed to be home 2 days ago.

He wasn’t supposed to have a job, a mission, so close to Christmas.

Of course, needs have to be met, money needs to be made, but some tact in timing would have benefited everyone. Illumi has a life too, you know.

You had made him promise he would be there for Christmas, but now?

That seemed to be in jeopardy of becoming a broken promise. I’ll Be Home for Christmas by Frank Sinatra

Taglist: @errorpeachy @twistedsmth @lifescreams27 @some-weeb-chick @whistlingastronaut @to-move-on-means-to-grow @dukinaxael @absolute-flaming-trash @my-child-gaara @demonhugger​

There’s a privilege, being able to have someone to come home to during the year, but it’s amplified during Christmas, no matter who they are; friend, family, lover, it’s always lucky to have someone to come home to, someone to share that personal joy with. Work and school and those things only limit it so much, because even those obstacles know when to let up. It’s always the little things, too. Fixing a scarf, tucking it properly so the other doesn’t get cold. Holding another's hands in the event of forgotten mittens. Huddling together outside in hopes of sharing heat and keeping warm. Rosey cheeks and soft gazes, half buried under hats, hoods and scarves, lashes dusted with snow. Holding each other steady so you don’t slip on tricky patches of ice while you walk in the park, sick of being cooped up inside. Sitting silently by fireplaces, feeling each other's gentle movements and quiet hums, being content in each other's presence. Falling asleep knowing that, you would do it again and again and again, knowing you had them to come home to, knowing you had them to wake up to and laugh with and learn with and grow with and love with. Now, on Christmas Eve, someone was selfish enough to take him away from you, leaving you in the Zoldyck estate, essentially alone, for 2 days, waiting from dusk till dawn for Illumi to come home. 

He hadn’t even said where he was going, only that it was more or less an emergency, and that he needed to go take care of business. He left in the silent hours of the morning, running off to cause an untimely death so close to such a rich holiday. Such is life, one can assume.

You walked along the sitting area, the massive Christmas tree giving off a golden glow in the dimly lit room. It was actually the only light present, save for the faint glow of candles in their holders, scattered about the walls of the room. Empty and quiet, resting on the arrival of Christmas day while you alone rested on the safe arrival of Illumi. 

Glittery white and gold ornaments, mixed with ornaments purely made with Swarovski crystals dangled on the branches of the tree, the vibrations of your footsteps making them shiver. An ornament, your initials and his hung on the tree, in a spot only he could reach, slightly tucked in into the branches. You ran your fingers over it as best and as gently as you could, wishing he were there to bring it down for you. 

Under the tree had gifts piled up, and upon finally getting a good look at the labeling, most of them were labeled to you, from Illumi. That man loved to spoil you rotten, much to your protest. Gifts upon gifts upon gifts whenever he came back from a mission. It was the same here, under this tree. Boxes, fancy gold wrapping paper, beautiful handwriting, a whole section under the tree dedicated to gifts for you, as if he cleared out multiple stores in your name. You smiled, finding various envelopes addressed to you as well under the tree. He always told you he didn’t know how else to spend his money, so spoiling you was his best (and favorite) option. You’d gotten him some gifts as well, a bracelet to share, a blanket for when he gets cold, personal, small items that although weren’t nearly as fanciful as what he’d gotten for you, he preferred to be given meaningful things from you, knowing you thought of him during it. 

Knowing you’d grow more restless looking at the Christmas gifts, you got up and moved towards the library.

The library windows were lightly frosted from the temperature, and you dragged a line in the frost as you walked past, peeking out the thin line into the outside world. It was snowing quietly, fresh unbroken snow falling down into soft piles, the occasional whistle of wind sweeping loose snow into small twirls, only to settle again into a new spot silently. Your footsteps echoes as you walk along the marble floors; you seem to be the only soul alive tonight against the silence of the entire estate. Swiping your hand against the glass, you watched a reindeer pass through the snow, its hooves creating deep imprints only to be slowly covered by snow as fast as they were created, and you sighed. Not a trace of Illumi, not a trace of those hooves, not a trace of sound,  just you and your wishes. You absently wrote his name in the frost on the window, the tip of your finger stinging from the cold, prompting you to pull away. The window was frosting up again quietly, the name and the line disappearing as you walked off into the hallway, wandering into the next room.

You never noticed the echo that the halls carried, but maybe that was because he wasn’t here with you. Even as you walked lightly, soft socks on your feet, your footsteps still echoed, the hallway seeming endless. The echoes fell into other rooms that you passed by; another sitting area, the dining room, the training rooms, an office. Empty, empty, empty, waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to be here in his silence, a silence only he could make.

Walking into yet another room, this seemed to be an observatory, a large telescope in the middle of the room. When had you climbed floors? You don’t remember, seeing as you were aimlessly walking about, attempting to occupy yourself. On a table, a small box sat there, looking as though it had collected its fair share of dust. Picking it up and opening it, it was a small music box, and you twisted the handle a few times, curious as to what song would play. Soft twinkling broke the silence, I’ll Be Home For Christmas played on tiny notes, and you could almost feel them in the snowflakes that fell down into the snow outside, feel them in the stars that sat in the sky. The snow and the stars knew where he was, didn’t they? They heard the soft song too, and maybe if you wished hard enough, they would get to him. 

The observatory seemed to be lightly decorated too, small white lights and garland strung about the high ceilings, giving the room a classy touch. It was the only light available there too, soft and glowing in the corners of the ceiling. 

The music box crackled, the tinkling notes straining as they slowed down and stopped shortly thereafter, prompting you to finally move as you were standing still, listening to it all this time. You couldn’t bring yourself to put it down, seeing it was all you had in the moment, so you brought it with you as you walked down the halls again, waiting for Illumi to come home. You turned the small dial again, the song softly playing on starlight notes, slightly louder than your echoing shuffles. Had you gone down the stairs again? It seems you have as you found yourself in a living room now, the fireplace alive with a gentle fire, auburn glow cascading over the room. It invited you to sit for a while, focusing on something else while the music box faded out again, only for you to rewind it with a few turns. 

You sat on the couch, the soft hissing of the fire drowning out the silence, adding soft warmth to the music box. There was another Christmas tree in here as well, stunning red decorations against the green pine, casting classic Christmas tones throughout the room. There was only one present here, a small box seated snuggly under the tree, and you got up to inspect it. Of course, it was labeled to you, from Illumi, and you smiled, wondering to yourself why he placed a gift here secretly, perhaps he meant for you to find it, knowing you would be missing him at this hour. You took it and sat back down on the couch, the warmth of the fire and its soft glow holding you close. There was a soft ticking, not from the music box which had since stopped yet again, but from a grandfather clock in the corner of the room, softly ticking away as the minutes went by. 11:45pm it read, and once again you sighed, biting at your lip, knowing Christmas day was slowly coming around. You glanced around the room, looking out the windows, the snow still softly falling, the piles it created getting larger and larger. You quietly ran your fingers over the small gift, and you absently shook it, hearing soft movements inside. Maybe you could open it at midnight like you always did at Christmas. The fire popped, sending golden sparks flying as the fire burned on, making you curl up into the side of the couch.

You glanced at the clock again...11:49pm.

He’d promised, you know, that he’d be home for Christmas. The clock was starting to tell you a different story, and although you fought to ignore it, you couldn’t help but steal glances, watching the hands make its rounds across the numbers, softly ticking away.

11:51pm.

And it was silent as ever, the fire could no longer compete with the quiet snow, the silence of the estate, the ticking of the clock, the steadiness of your heart falling in tune with the clock. The fire only hissed in the absence of the music box, still faintly playing in your memory. 

11:53pm.

You curled up further on the couch, pressing yourself into the cushions further as soft footsteps in snow cut through the silence, the small music box falling from your lap. You were in front of the large windows in minutes, swiping at the frost, the fire hissing in vigor. You gripped the small gift as a glimpse of sleek black hair graced your vision and you sprinted down the hallways, making a mad dash for the front doors.

11:57pm.

Hard footsteps breaking silence only to be swallowed up again as fast as you made your way down the hallway, your lungs burning as you picked up pace, hearing soft shuffling not too far away. Rounding a corner, another glimpse of black hair and a green shirt passed by your eyes and you almost yelled...had you yelled? You might’ve, seeing as the figure stopped in their tracks, facing you.

11:59pm.

Oh and he was home. Right there, in a silence only he could make, profound and classy yet full of adoration for none other than you. He set his things down, seeing you making your way over to him, his eyes soft yet steadfast as ever.

Christmas.

You nearly toppled him over, much to his surprise stumble backwards and you greeted him with an almost rib-crushing hug as you buried your face in chest, taking him in as he stood there. He slowly allowed his arms to enveloped you too, one hand on your back, the other slowly caressing your head, putting his face in your hair. You were still clutching the box, the other hand rubbing his back as you calmed down, finally having him here with you for Christmas. 

“Hello, y/n.” he finally spoke, his voice smooth and gentle, passing through you.

“You’re home…” was all you could whisper into his chest, and he hummed in response.

“Of course I am. I said I would be.” he said, his cheek rubbing against the top of your head. 

“I didn’t think…” you trailed off, fighting off soft tears.

“I promised, did I not.”, resting his chin on top of your head. 

You hugged him tighter, the small box brushing against his side.

“Open it, y/n.” he said, moving a hand to gesture to the box in your hand. 

You pulled away from him slightly to open the box, allowing him to still hold you while you peeled off the wrapping paper. Small black velvet box, your initials and his carved into the top with silver lettering. You only cracked it open, just a little bit, and everything felt silent again, your blood ran cold, and you held your breath only for a moment before Illumi took the box from you as you stood there frozen. 

Time didn’t matter anymore as he got on one knee, peering up at you through stunning black hair. He couldn’t even say anything before you fervently nodded, babbling yes’ as fast as you could muster, your blood suddenly running hot, the fire popping and crackling in the background. He only relished in a deep sigh and soft smile as he got back up, slipping the ring on your finger just as you nearly threw him down once more with a hug, this time pulling you close, nearly lifting you from the floor.

Finally home for Christmas, home in his arms, in a silence and love only he could create, and that was a priceless gift. 

[dreamescapeswriting]

Underground ~ JJK [M] [Request]

➳➳➳Word count: 2.9K

➳➳➳Pairing: King!Jungkook x Concubine!Reader

➳➳➳Genre: Floffy, angst (tiny bit) and SMUT

➳➳➳A/n: Hope this is okay for you my love

➳➳➳Concubine meaning:  a woman who lives with a man but has lower status than his wife or wives (also known as a mistress)

People didn't like the fact that you were what you were to the King, you could tell by the looks on their face as you walked around the streets of the Kingdom of Zenith, but it was normal for many King's to have Concubines, while other King's had multiple Concubine's but King Jungkook had just the one and that was you. That was his choice though he didn't want many women he just wanted you and his soon-to-be wife.

"Do you see the way she walks? As if she’s better than us," Someone asked as you walked past their stall, you were used to the whispers by now but it didn't make it any easier, hearing the rumours about you.

"What is she even doing here?" Another voice rang out a little louder than the first, you kept your head down as you walked over towards your old home to visit your mum. Not that she ever spoke to you, she was ashamed of what you had become but it didn't stop you going to visit her every weekend. 

"Hi Umma," You greeted as you walked into the Hanok that you used to live in, she looked up from her breakfast took once glance at you before going back to her meal. This was the normal exchange you would have with her, 

"She'll come around," Your sister whispered but it wasn't true, she wouldn't. 

"I brought fresh strawberries from the farm." You placed the basket down and your sister watched you with a close eye as you reached out for them and began eating one of the strawberries with a small smile on your face, sighing to yourself as you watched your mum eating her breakfast, once you felt your sister's close stare you stared back at her and she smirked to herself. 

"Come with me," You followed her out of the Hanok with a strawberry hanging out of your mouth, out into the garden where she walked you over to the swing on your tree, somewhere you would go a lot to talk to one another a lot as children.

"How long?" You frowned at her and she sighed sitting in front of the swing and staring up at you, there was no denying it she watched as you swallowed the strawberry you had been munching on. You didn't even know, did you? 

"The smile of content, sighing because you're happy and that natural flush." She squealed happily and you had no idea what she was doing, 

"We have to take you to Halmeoni," She was excited about something so you nodded along with it, you hadn't seen her this happy in months and it felt nice to watch her smile. 

"Take me then," 

You beyond thrilled and couldn't wait to get back to the castle to tell Jungkook the good news, it was hard to determine at first but once your Grandmother did all the tricks she knew it became clearer and clearer with every second, you were pregnant and carrying a set of twins.

"You're sure?" You asked as your grandmother held a pin on a string above your stomach, she closed her eyes and began chanting away to herself when the Pin began to move on its own, a clear sign of pregnancy. Then she went out to fetch eggs from one chicken, bringing back two eggs which meant twins. It was an old technique she'd used when your mother was pregnant with you and your sisters and it was foolproof. 

The guards watched as you walked in the direction of the throne room ready to tell Jungkook the news when you heard yelling coming from inside the great hall. Your interest was piqued so you walked closer to the door and listened in to the conversation if you were anybody else this action would but punishable by death.

"I want to proceed with the wedding," You heard Jungkook say to his father across the room, Jungkook had been lined up to marry a Princess from another Kingdom to expand the Kingdom of Zenith and bring more protection for it and you knew this of course, but you'd never thought Jungkook would go through with the wedding. He was always telling you about how much he didn't want to marry someone that wasn't you, that it felt morally wrong to marry anyone else but you. You held your hand over your stomach trying not to think about it too much, stressing was bad for pregnancies you knew that much. 

"How soon shall we have it?" You heard his father question, the next question made your heart sink as Jungkook answered him with full excitement and you could tell he had a smile across his face. 

"Next weekend." You slowly backed away from the door not wanting to hear anymore and took off in a sprint towards your chambers. 

You had special chambers since you were the King's concubine, it meant your own giant bed, being served by maids in the castle and other staff at your beck and call. 

"Miss?!" You slammed the door before your personal made could question why you were crying, it felt harsh to treat her this way but you couldn't risk anyone seeing you cry over the King. It just simply wasn't done. 

"Miss, King Jungkook wanted us to tell you he wishes to see you right away. He knows the weekends are for your family-"

"Tell him I'm still out," You spat out rushing into the bathroom and staring at yourself in the mirror, you looked down at the expensive gown you were wearing, then at the jewellery which was custom made for you and you tore them from around your neck and ears. Throwing them into the golden bathtub before screaming about not being able to take off the dress. The same maid from before rushed into the room with her ladies in training, 

"Leave us." She clapped her hands and the two minions left the room, standing in front of the giant chamber doors to stop anyone else from entering. You were sobbing into your hands while the maid quietly undid your corset, not daring to speak a word to you as she knew it was against the rules, 

"Thank you, Cruella," You sniffled and she handed you a handkerchief turning you around to face her,

"The king isn't worth those tears." She whispered wiping your face and looking at you, she'd always been the nicest one in the castle to you and you always assumed it was because it was her job but no one else made this kind of effort. 

"He's marrying her," She sighed and stripped you from the gown throwing it into the bathtub as you had done with the rest of the items he'd gotten you, 

"You knew it would be coming through." She ushered you into your room and retrieved you another ball gown which you shook your head at. 

"Can you fetch me some rags instead, and a bag." 

Cruella had watched you the entire time you packed up old clothes into a bag, leaving no note or clue as to where you were going but leaving out of the palace in the middle of the night with her. Dressed as one of the other many chambermaids, 

"What do I do when he asks for you tomorrow?" She asked once you reached the ends of the palace gardens, your heart was breaking at the thought of leaving him behind but it broke more when you thought of him marrying another. 

"Tell him I'm sick, it'll keep him away a couple of days until I have enough time to get out of the kingdom." You told her as you looked around nervously,

"You're pregnant are you?" She questioned taking in your appearance under the moonlight, you stayed silent and she made a promise to keep your secret. 

To her avail, she had managed to keep it for as long as she could but a week had passed and Jungkook had had enough of not seeing you. He barged into your room expecting to find you sitting in bed with a book but when he found nothing he was concerned, Cruella spilt her guts once he threatened her job and he instantly began setting up a manhunt to find you and his unborn children. The kingdom was searched multiple times a day and your home was ransacked in order to find you, but you were nowhere to be found. Rumours spread like wildfire about you fleeing to another Kingdom because the baby belonged to another King while other rumours started you were still in the castle but underground not wanting to be found by the king. None of them was true, of course, except for the underground part. You were underground but not under the castle, you were under your mothers old Hanok being looked after by her whenever the searches were completed. The king's guards were idiots and never thought to check an old well with a fake bottom which led to you. 

"Umma, I have to leave soon." The night you left the castle you'd gone home to say goodbye to everyone but your mother insisted on keeping you in the hidden room below the surface until searches were called, she promised it would be easy. 

"No, you're not leaving. You're with child, it's too dangerous to leave now." There was always going to be an excuse for her as to why you couldn't leave and you knew that, after the years of her not talking to you it felt nice that she was willing to put her life on the line to protect you and the babies growing inside of you. There were footsteps above the ground and she frowned, the searches had already been completed that day, 

"Wait here. Stay silent." She walked off down a hallway and to where the ladder led to getting in and out of the well you were underneath, the lid was lifted from the top and there stood three guards and Jungkook looking down at her.

"We're coming down." You sat up straight as you heard his voice through the echo's and you knew what your mother had done, 

"Umma!" You yelled getting her attention, she nodded at you and motioned for Jungkook to follow her into the room where you had been laying down. 

"Umma what are you-" Jungkook was standing in front of you dressed in his robes and smiling, the same way he looked when he picked you out before. 

"OUT!" Your mother screamed at the guards that had tried to come into the room, Jungkook flinched a little as she raised her hand to point at the seat. 

"You! Sit!" He sat down instantly and stared at you as you sat down on an opposite seat from him, 

"She's with child, what do you plan to do?" You stared at your mother as she told him the news which he already knew but you didn't know that, 

"I plan to marry her," Your eyes snapped back to him and they began to have a conversation about marriage as though you weren't in the room your head dancing from one to the other as they continued to have the discussion as though it didn't involve you in any way. 

"Excuse me- Yeah, Hi. What?" Jungkook's eyes were staring into yours as he smiled, how could he smile at you like that when less than a week ago he was planning on marrying someone else. 

"I'll marry you." You blinked at him as though he was crazy, which he was. No one married a commoner, or their concubine it just wasn't done.

"You can't-"

"I'm King, I can marry whoever I please." You looked at the floor as he raised his voice a little, 

"That was the plan before you left, running out before you knew the information." He tutted at you, your head lifted from the floor as you made eye contact with him, he had a cocky smirk across his face as he watched you try and piece together what he was saying. 

"Marry me? But you're supposed to-"

"I'm not supposed to do anything, I'm the King." You nodded at him and he got down onto one knee in front of you, 

"This isn't the way I had this planned but will you Y/n Y/l/n marry me?" Your eyes teared up as you watched him pull out a ring from one of his robe pockets and you nodded falling down onto the floor and hugging him. Your mother crying in the process and smiling at you, as much as she'd disliked you for what you had become in the Kingdom she knew real love when she saw it, and she wasn't going to let her daughter and grandchild grow up without a father figure. 

                                                  One Year Later

The kids were sound asleep for the first time in many months, they normally cried for hours on end only sleeping an hour but tonight was easy. Their first birthday had come around and they were sleeping as though they had grown out of the habit of not sleeping,

"Jungkook, shh." You said as he stepped closer to you you were sitting on the small balcony of your room looking out over the kingdom and the babies were asleep in solid gold cribs across the room in your chambers.

"Shh yourself, I've missed you." He growled rushing over to you and pulled you into a loving kiss since the babies had been born you hadn't been together intimately and it was starting to get to you both,

"You're so gorgeous." He mumbled putting his head into the crook of your neck and sucking along the skin, you held back the moan as you looked over your shoulder guards were in the courtyard below. 

"J-Jungkook guards." You warned only making him suck along the skin harder, 

"Let them watch, I want them to know how good I make you feel. Fuck it's been so long." He groaned kissing you once again, your hands reached into his black locks and you kissed him. 

"Be quiet now baby." He dropped down onto his knees and lifted the base of your dress up and over his head, you felt him pulling your panties to the side and your breath hitched as you felt his breath against your throbbing core. It had been so long since he last touched you you'd almost forgotten what it was like. His tongue ran along the length of your sex and you let out a strangled moan into your own hand, 

"What if we wake- ah shit." You moaned out throwing your head back in ecstasy as he continued to suck harder on your clit, flicking faster and inserting two fingers inside of you. 

"So tight," He hummed against you only making you clench around him as you already felt yourself beginning to get close.

"R-Right there- but what about-" He cut you off by pumping his fingers faster and curling them in just the right motion that made your legs shake, he could tell you were getting closer but he didn't want you to cum around his fingers. 

"This way." He pulled you towards the bed and laid you down, neither of you had time to strip out of your clothes in case the babies woke up so he lifted the dress up to your midsection and took his member out from his pants.

"You ready baby?" You nodded eagerly and you gasped as you felt him enter you, the stretch after not having him for so long was painful but you could deal with it. 

"Fuck." You moaned into your hand trying to be as quiet as possible, Jungkook groaned out as he tried to thrust in and out at a slow pace but the tightness was only making him want to ram into you, have you screaming out his name as the old times. 

"We'll have time for that another day-" You mumbled knowing exactly what he was thinking just by the look on his face, he focussed on trying to get you close with slow thrusts trying to push down the feeling of his own release approaching him rather quickly.

"Jungkook." He bent down to bring you into a lustful kiss, trying to keep you silent and his thrusts began to pick up pace as he felt you clenching around him, hitting your g-spot every time he had you moaning out into his mouth,

"G-Gonna cum." You whined out in a whisper trying to be as quiet as possible but you could feel the band tightening in your stomach and the sound of him moaning in your ear was only bringing you closer.

"Cum for me then," He growled in your ear picking up the pace and smirking down at you, 

"S-Shit," He grumbled as he felt you cumming around his cock, biting down on your lip so hard that blood was trickling around it, you continued to buck your hips as he thrust into you never wanting the orgasm to end.

"O-oh fuck," He moaned out as he split into you, pulling out and falling down onto the bed beside you and panting, you turned to look at him with a smirk and he shook his head at you. 

"I promise that next time-" You nodded already knowing what he was going to say, you just rolled over to lay your head on his chest and try and get a couple of hours sleep before the twins would wake up.

tagline: 

@yoongisdumplingcheeks​ @snowy-meowl​ @lynnthevirgo​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @kpopfanfictionhoes​ @lyoongx​ @fan-ati--c​ @mitzwinchester​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @btsiguess-kpop​

[maddpopcorn]

One More? || kth

Pairing: Taehyung x Male!!Reader

Summary: You have to get ready for work but Taehyung has other ideas.

Warnings: idol!au, Just a shit ton of fluff! Slight makeout? Just kissing really but that's about as heavy as it gets.

This is my first fanfic for the boys, starting with my bias wrecker. I hope I'll continue to grow in my writing as I continue doing this and I hope you enjoy! Sorry this was so late, my bad :( (also, enjoy this cute gif of Tae)

You groan, slightly, at the annoying tone of your alarm clock. As much as you love "Look Here", it disrupted your peaceful sleep. You try reaching over with your right hand to turn it off but a body is occupying it. Reaching over with your left hand, you turn it off.

You look at your right arm curled around your love and you can't help but to smile. Taehyung's head rests on your chest. He's happily sleeping with his arms wrapped around your torso and legs wrapped around your legs. You almost decide to call in sick just for this moment. That would ruin your plans, however.

He looked so...ethereal.

Yes, his mouth is open. Yes, he is slightly drooling. And yes, he has the worst case of bed hair (that you absolutely adore) but he look at peace on your chest. He looks tiny in your shirt, the length reaching his mid thighs. But it's cute. And the way the sunlight peeking from your window glides across his honey skin, making him glow even more, well damn, it's like you're falling for him all over again.

Yeontan is asleep at the foot of the bed, his fur fluffy as ever. You smile at your little family. Wouldn't it be lovely to stay just like this? Can't you stay like this? Unfortunately, that's a no.

You attempt to get up but a little sound comes from him, and you chuckle at his grip tightening ever so slightly.

"Tae, I have to get up," you whisper, kissing the male's head. You inhale the scent of his shampoo. Strawberries. A nice wave of calmness washes over you, and you fight the sleepiness that's coming back. He whines, burying himself into your side even more, if that was possible.

"Mmm, is my day off.. stay..practice off," he mumbles, his voice heavily laced with sleep. You chuckle, pushing the hair away from his eyes. You lightly kiss his forehead and unwrap his arms from around you. His legs tighten around yours, and you have to pry them off and quickly stand up before he latches on again. He emits a huff, eyes closed as he flops on his back.

"Sadly, Bear," you laugh, "I have a job to go to and money to make."

"Noooooooo," he whines again, blindly reaching out for you. "Take a sick day?"

"Can't, sugar-" Taehyung groans. "-I have an important presentation at 9."

He grumbles, begrudgingly reaching out to cuddle with your pillow instead. Guess it could be a nice substitute. It has your scent and warmth and is really soft. His eyes feel heavy again. Your eyes crinkle as you smile fondly at him.

You lean down, kissing his temple, murmuring, "Be good all day and perhaps I'll reward you."

His face lights up like a Christmas tree as he gasps, all traces of sleep vanishing like that. His eyes meet yours as he exclaims, "The gallery?!"

You nod your head yes, chuckling, "Yes, baby. The gallery. It was supposed to be a sur-"

"-Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He yells, expressing his gratitude in multiple kisses. He yanks you down on top of him, arms snaking around your neck as he peppers your face and neck with little kisses. You close your eyes, feeling all giddy from his love.

A new art gallery, l'amour de la tortue, was opening up tonight, and Taehyung had begged you to go with him ever since he heard about it a month ago. What type of boyfriend would you be if you hadn't gotten tickets for the opening show? ("Still a good one", Taehyung would claim with a million kisses littering your face).

Your Bear had worked so hard these past couple of months. A new comeback, various interviews, filming Run BTS! and countless of others things filled his schedule to the point he wasn't able to come back to the apartment for days upon days. And then...there was the upcoming tour...which would take months to complete, and you know he's going to exhaust himself just for his ARMY.

That's why you decided to spoil him today. But first, one meeting to get out of the way and the rest of the day and night, you are his.

A little bark from Yeontan snaps you from your thoughts. You lean back up with Tae's arms still around you to see Yeontan impatiently waiting at the door of your room, begging to be let out.

"Sorry, little guy," you say, standing up with Taehyung wrapped around you like a koala bear. You pay no mind to his clinginess as his limbs tighten around you. You open the door and Yeontan rushes out, hopping on the couch with a huff. He awaits there as you and Taehyung finish your little routine.

"So this is how the morning is gonna be, huh?" You chuckle, shifting Taehyung around to be on your back. He laughs, his boxy smile showing as he nods.

"Yup," he mumbles in your shoulder, pecking it. "I want cuddles and if I have to be like this, then so be it!"

You shake your head at his silliness, walking over to the bathroom where your toothbrushes await you. You hand Taehyung his tooth brush after you squirted a bit of toothpaste on it, doing the same to yours. You both begin brushing your teeth with Taehyung hanging on your back.

He hops down momentarily to spit, you doing the same, before he hops back on.

"To the kitchen!" He yells, pointing in the direction. "Breakfast is calling my name!"

You walk through your apartment, almost stepping on one of Yeontan's squeaky toys and make your way to the kitchen. You tap Tae's thighs and move him to the counter. He shivers, slightly, as his bare thighs meet the chilly marble top.

"Stay there, Bear," you mumble, leaning in to give him a kiss. He hums, trapping you in between his legs. You grin into the kiss, forgetting that you were going to make breakfast (if pouring cereal in a bowl counted).

He threads his hands through your hair, tugging ever so slightly, and you groan into his mouth. He smirks against your lips, tugging the bottom one lightly.

"'S not fair," you grumble, fingers under his shirt, trailing against his warm skin. "I have work and I ne-"

He kisses you again, slower and deeper this time, hands moving to cup your cheeks. Your heart swells at his gesture. You grip his hips, pulling him closer to you. The kissing slows down to a complete stop, and Taehyung pulls away, leaning his forehead on yours.

"You know I love you right?" He asks, his boxy smile coming out again.

"Yes and you know how much I love you, right?" You reply back, your smile widening.

"Yeah, I do. Thank you for loving me."

"Why are you thanking me, Bear? If anyone should be thanking anyone," you lean in, kissing his nose, making it scrunch up. "It should be me to you. Thank you for allowing me the honor of being with you."

He giggles, playfully slapping your chest at the cheesy confession, "Stop, you're gonna make me cry."

You rub your nose against his, giving him another kiss.

"Wouldn't want that now, would we? If you cry, I cry and then you'll cry some more and it will be a whole cryi-"

"-shhh," he mumbles, pressing his lips into yours. "Let's vow to not cry today, yeah?"

He holds his pinky out and you link yours with his, meeting his thumb halfway.

"What about the other days?" You ask, raising your eyebrow playfully.

"Oh shush, we'll get there when we get there," he grins, pecking your lips as he unhooks his legs from your waist. You miss the pressure already. "Alright, I guess I should let you go."

You unwillingly wiggle your way out of the space between his thighs until he reels you back in, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

"But first...one more?"

---------

Tag list: @tipsydipsydo

[peanutbutterworm]

i love you

here we go!! here is my moreid secret santa fic! 

click here to read it on AO3

warnings: none, light angst at one point but it is mostly tooth rotting fluff

word count: 4196

summary: Penelope begs and begs Hotch until he finally lets her have a BAU secret santa party. There is a small problem for Dr. Spencer Reid however when he is set the task of giving a gift to his best friend and crush, Derek Morgan.

“Hotch please?” Penelope drew out the last vowel of the word, as if it would make him say yes.

“I told you, Garcia, it’s out of my hands for now. It sounds like a great idea, really, but I don’t think that Strauss nor the director would approve of it.”

“It doesn’t have to be a work thing! Just, as friends, as a family.”

“And I already told you, Garcia, as long as we’re using company time it is a ‘work thing’.”

“God why does everyone have to be so boring. It’s a bonding thing!” Penelope checked the date on her phone. “It’s November 29th, if we’re not allowed to do this I’m going on strike.”

“Mhm,” Hotch was already moving on to something else, and Penelope left in a huff. She ran into Spencer on the way back to her office.

“Hey Penelope,”

“Hi, Spencer.” She said curtly, storming past him.

“Woah, what’s going on today?” Spencer said, stopping her by grabbing her arm. Penelope sighed, realizing she wasn’t being her cheery self and someone was bound to notice, may as well be him.

“Walk with me, boy genius.” Penelope explained her current predicament on the way to her office, huffing and using her hands to talk the entire way.

“And I don’t get why Strauss won’t allow it! It’s a great team bonding activity, and we would have so much fun!” She finished explaining.

“Garcia, we have fun without ‘team bonding activities’, I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Because, I’m tired of being ignored. I just want one of my suggestions to go through and I’m starting to think Strauss doesn’t like me.”

“I’m pretty sure Strauss doesn’t like any of us,” Spencer said, sipping his coffee from a company mug.

“Yeah I know,” Penelope put her head into her hands and sighed. “Why are they so against us having fun?”

“They think it ‘interferes with the job’” Spencer said, quoting a seminar they were forced to go to.

“Yeah, bullshit.” Penelope half scoffed into her hands, half laughed. “How is it going with Derek?” She asked, smirking up at Spencer. Spencer couldn’t help but turn a little red whenever she asked about him. He had told Penelope about his crush on her best friend in September, and even though it had been going on for much longer Spencer was reminded every day why he didn’t tell her sooner. However Spencer never missed a chance to talk to her about it. Even though Penelope was a huge gossip, she would never tell Derek something this important without asking Spencer for permission first. And anyways, it was nice to get stuff off his chest.

“Nothing has really happened, just still lying awake at night thinking about him instead of doing something productive with my chronic insomnia.”

“How can you be productive with chronic insomnia anyways?”

“I don’t know… do things?” Spencer giggled and then paused, recalling something. “Wait, I do recall, I saw him at the grocery store.”

“No way, you two shop at the same place?”

“Unfortunately. I was too awkward to say anything anyways, and I looked like a mess too.”

“I’m sure he didn’t care. This is the man that saw me almost die and I need not remind you that he has seen you in the hospital. Multiple times.”

“I try not to remember.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No.”

“You are so boring,”

“It was late, Garcia. I don’t think I had the patience to deal with anyone, including him, and if you were to ask him I’m pretty sure he would say that feeling’s mutual by how he looked.” Spencer sighed. “He was so pretty though. Like sleepy pretty, not the way we see him at work.”

Penelope was just sitting there, sighing.

“What!” Spencer said, playing with a piece of dirt that was caught between his nails.

“Nothing. You are just so, so fucked.”

“I know!” Spencer dropped it and threw his hands to his face. “He’s just so… AH! I feel like a teenage girl.”

“Considering your looks, you might not be far off.”

“Hey!”

“Kidding, but really, you need to tell him. It’s gotta happen eventually.”

“No, I don’t want to ruin our friendship for my own feelings, it’s selfish.”

“Have you ever considered he might feel the same way?” Penelope asked, and Spencer just stared back at her. “You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“I just haven’t thought about it, of course it’s a probability but the chance that he likes me back is just so low. Did you know the chance of your crush liking you back is-” Spencer was cut off when Derek walked into the room, right into the middle of a conversation he had no idea was about him.

“Thank you for saving me from that,” Penelope said.

“Hotch needs you both at the round table,” was all Derek said, smirking at both of them.

“We’ll be there soon.” Spencer said, staring as Derek left the room. “Do you think he heard any of that?”

“You talk too fast and I wasn’t really keeping up very well, but no, I don’t think he knows it was about him at the very least.”

“Thank god.” Spencer sighed. “Come on, I don’t want to be yelled at by Hotch again.”

“Guess whatttttt!” Penelope said, with everyone mingling around their desks on a chilly December morning, having not been called in on a case yet for the day.  

“Did someone die?” Emily asked, taking a headcount of everyone there, all BAU team members accounted for.

“What? No, oh my god Em. Unrelated to death, we get to have a secret santa!” She exclaimed, and everyone's faces lit up with smiles.

“Strauss thinks it would be good for us to bond over the holidays,” Hotch said, cracking a small smile.

“Yeah yeah, anyways write your names on these,” Penelope all handed them a torn piece of paper, “and put it in the magic hat.” She held out a small colorful beret she sometimes wore to work and mixed up all the names that were placed in it. “Now who wants to go first?” She asked, looking around the room eagerly.

“Can I go, Pen?” JJ asked, walking up to the hat.

“Why of course my dear,” Penelope said, dropping into a bow but making sure none of the names spilled out.

This went on for ten minutes until everyone had someone picked out. Penelope then took the last name out of the hat for herself before snugly fitting the hat back onto her head.

Spencer looked at the slip of paper he had gotten, and in all caps was the name Derek . He reminded himself that there was a 1 in 7 chance. A one in SEVEN chance. Maybe the universe just hated him, he mused to himself, trying to keep a poker face while slipping the paper into his pocket. He would tell Penelope about this later, because even though they were supposed to keep it a secret, she would want to know about this.

Derek did the same as everyone and glanced at his small slip of paper but did a double take when he saw the name scrawled on the parchment. Spencer Reid, was all it said in black ink. Great, of course he got his best friend, whom of which he was inconveniently in love with at the moment. He tried to keep his facial expression neutral, as there was a team full of profilers watching and if he even showed the slightest amount of emotion right now, it might give away who he had drawn.

“Now as per the rules of our lovely unit chief, no gifts above $20, and no telling who you got, as it would ruin the game. We will exchange gifts on the 24th and our lovely Rossi has agreed to let us use his home for the gift exchange.” Penelope described the rules, gesturing over to Rossi.

“Not home, mansion” He corrected, smiling.

A few days later, after agonizing over whether or not he should tell Penelope about his crush on Spencer, Derek texts Penelope. Everyone is asleep on the jet home except for Spencer and him. Spencer is reading a book at a million miles an hour, and Derek is on his phone. However every few seconds in between texts he would look up at the doctor, who always looked so peaceful and serene while reading.

New iMessage from: Garcia

You’re kidding me.

Derek smiled at his phone and typed,

No, I’m not. And I got him for secret santa too. I am so fucked, aren’t I?

He finished typing and set his phone on his lap, glancing at Spencer again while waiting for a response. Well, he thought, less of a glance, more of a stare. He zoned out looking at the younger man, memorizing the way his hands ran over the page. Suddenly the doctor looked up, and they looked in the eyes for a moment before they both quickly looked away. He felt a buzz on his chest and feeling grateful to have an excuse to look at something other than him, continued his conversation with Penelope.

Garcia: First of all you weren’t supposed to tell me the secret santa thing, second of all,  I can feel you staring at him from here. You are so in love it makes me sick.

Penelope rummaged around her office in Quantico, cleaning up before the team arrived and they all got to go home. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and took it out, Morgan again.

Derek: I know, but I had to tell somebody because I’m going crazy over it. I don’t know what to get him. He deserves something better than some random book.

Garcia: My sweet, I promise you he will love anything you get him.

Derek: You sure?

Garcia: I am sure.

Garcia: And if you don’t go to sleep right now Derek Morgan I will strangle you when you get back.

Derek: Fine fine, we’ll be back in an hour. You should get some rest too, go home.

Garcia: Like hell I’m leaving before you all get back here safely. I’ll wait.

They landed in Quantico about an hour later, and as promised, Derek was asleep for about 30 minutes when the jet landed and jolted everyone awake. They all walked back into the building together, tired as all hell even though most of them got sleep on the plane.

“Hey, kid,” Derek said, walking with Spencer to his desk. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Nope,” Spencer said, packing up his things, avoiding looking Derek in the eye.

“Are you alright?” Derek asked, and Spencer froze in his tracks. There were a million things he could’ve said at that moment, but he just continued packing his things after a muttered ‘yea,’. “You know you can talk to me, right?” Derek asked, but Spencer just started thinking about how no, actually he could not talk to him because talking to him about the particular thing he was feeling at the moment would ruin their friendship and Spencer didn’t know if he could take any heartbreak at the moment considering he was tired and about to break down into tears.

“Please, just go to your office, Morgan. I don’t want to talk.” Was all he said, and as Derek walked away a single tear slipped down Spencer’s cheek, which he aggressively rubbed away. The rest of the team was either too busy wrapping up or too tired to notice the distress Spencer was in at the moment.

Derek walked to his office, trying not to burst into tears. When he closed his door he immediately started crying, though. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He hated seeing Spencer in danger, which is exactly where every case put him. And he was always so cold to him, like working with him now was a pain, a formality that must be gone through with. The glance on the plane was a spark of hope before, that maybe Spencer felt the same way, but it was put out by the way he acted earlier. He didn’t know anymore.

He knocked on Penelope’s door, hoping that the technical analyst hadn’t gone home yet. And she hadn't; she was sitting in her chair, knitting when Derek came in. She jumped up, giving him a kiss on the cheek when he arrived.

“God I am so happy to see that you are safe and well and a million other good things.”

“Actually, safe and well might be the only two good things I feel at the moment, Pen.”

“Alright, talk to me. What happened.” She said, moving her way over to sit down with Derek, rubbing his back.

“I don’t know. There was a moment, on the plane, while I was texting you that I thought maybe, maybe he felt the same way but when we got back he was so cold. It was like he was trying to distance himself from me in every way.”

“Ok, well you’re the profiler. Tell me exactly what he said.”

“Babygirl I don’t remember-”

“I think you do.” Penelope said, crossing her arms at him.

“I do. He said, ‘Please, just go to your office, Morgan. I don’t want to talk.’ He sounded sad, and he said please, which means he was probably expecting me to stay.” Derek had a moment of realization before putting his head in his hands. “I should’ve stayed, oh my god I should have-”

“Hey, hey there is nothing you can do now. Deep breaths. And you’re right. Those sound like the words of someone who is trying to push you away for their own good. And I’ve heard them before,” She said, punching Derek softly in the shoulder. “I don’t think he wants you to leave, Der. I think he just needs some time to figure out himself, first.”

“Do you think he likes me?”

“I can’t say for sure,” (She definitely could) “But I’d say he does.”

“About the secret santa,”

“Hun, I don’t care that you told me.”

“No, not that. What should I get him?”

“I already told you. He would love a ‘random book’” She did air quotes around what Derek had said over text earlier. “But you should make it special, write a note inside or something.”

“You know what…” Derek started, getting an idea. “I think I will.”

“Great, glad I could be of help. Now if you will excuse me, I have to be back here in 6 hours now, and I would like to go home for at least 4 of those.

“Well don’t let me get in the way.” Derek said, smiling at her and backing out of the office.

Spencer spent the rest of that night overthinking, trying to sleep but only falling unconscious for 3 hours before his blaring alarm woke him up. Did I push him away? He thought to himself, lying awake.

Spencer texted Penelope on his way into work, and even though he wasn’t much of a texting person, he didn’t have the time to make a call right now. All his text said was: I really messed up this time, Garcia. She replied as he was walking into the office, What did you do? Although Penelope, of course, had some inkling of what the young doctor was talking about. They had a few minutes before work officially started for the day, and Hotch hadn’t given them a case yet so he strode directly to Penelope’s office, not bothering to set down anything.

Spencer knocked on the door before coming in, and closed the door before sitting down.

“Alright, so spill.” She said, crossing her legs. Her office was becoming less and less of a technical analysis space and more of a therapist’s couch.

“I pushed him away. I was tired and angry and I pushed him away.”

“Slow down, slow down. I’m sure he didn’t take it that way, all of you were feeling that way last night.”

“No but he seemed angry with me too and I-”

“I can promise you. He probably was angry at first and regretted it, and now he’s thinking the same thing you are. Make an effort today to reach out to him, you’ll be surprised.”

“You sound like JJ reading my horoscope.”

“Maybe I can just see into the future.”

“Yeah right, and anyways that isn’t the end of it. I know I’m not supposed to tell you but I got Derek for the secret santa thing.” Spencer sighed into this coffee that was pressed against his lips, and after taking a sip, said, “I’m starting to really hate you for putting this together, because I have no idea what to give him.”

“Maybe get him something he likes,”

“Yeah, but what does he even like? Music?” Spencer asked, setting his coffee cup on the table beside him. “But I don’t even know what or who he listens to. All I know is he likes music and I feel like I don’t know anything about him right now.”

“Football. He likes football.” Garcia said, also trying to think of things her best friend would enjoy as a present.

“Ok that’s a start, what about football is there…”

“No, no scratch that. Do you know how to make a mix of music on a CD?”

“Garcia, you know I can barely work a printer.”

“I’ll help you. I made his playlist that he listens to on the jet so I know what he likes. All you have to do is give it to him.”

“Wow, thanks Penelope. I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t. Say anything that is, just go catch a serial killer and I’ll have it ready by the end of the day.”

As promised, at the end of the day Spencer walked into Penelope’s office and she had a CD ready for him. It was a relatively short case, a local one that had the team home before 8pm. Everyone was in a good mood, but decided to go home early while they had the rare chance.

“Ok here it is, loverboy. Just so you know you can write on it with Sharpie and it won’t mess up the disc.” She winked and handed it to him, Spencer blushing and turning around to make sure no one was at the door.

“Thank you, Penelope. Really.”

“It’s nothing. Thank me when you finally confess your love to that himbo.”

“What’s a-”

“You know what, I’m not explaining that to you. Go home, try and go to sleep early tonight.” She said, pushing him out the door with his new CD. As the door closed in his face, Spencer started to say,

“Have a nice-” But it closed before he could say “-night.” He sighed and walked down the hall, carrying his CD and bag with him towards the elevator. He didn’t expect to see anyone else, but lo and behold Derek Morgan walking towards the elevator at the same time.

“Hey, Reid.” He said, stepping into the elevator with him.

“Hey,” Spencer replied, glancing everywhere but into Derek’s eyes. They were about level, height-wise, and this made it harder for Spencer to avoid his gaze, so he just stared down at the ground.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I just want to know why.” Spencer’s face heated up in shame, and he looked to Derek.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so cold lately. I’ve been having a hard time, but Garcia helped me realize I shouldn’t be shutting people like you who care about me out.”

“Garcia helped you realize-” Derek paused, thinking. “How long have you two been talking?” He asked, curious.

“Pretty much every day since September.”

“Ok ok, I see.” Spencer didn’t question the way Derek asked how long he’d been talking to Garcia, and switched the topic of conversation.

“Four days and counting until the Secret Santa party.” He said, glancing back at Derek.

“Yeah, you excited?”

“Mostly excited to see who mine is.” Spencer said, staring at the elevator doors, which had just opened. “Have a good night,” He said, walking out the doors of the building, rushing towards his car.

“Yeah, you too.” He said, but Derek knew that Spencer was long gone by now. Derek left the building and walked towards his car, starting it and leaving the parking lot as quick as he got here this morning.

The day of the Secret Santa party, Hotch had one case for them. When they got to the round table, everyone was pretty disappointed, because cases often meant that they came back late and in a bad mood. But it turned out that this one was just an hours drive away, and even quicker on the jet, so everyone hopped in, hoping that this wouldn’t take long.

The case only ended up lasting the day, as the killer was sloppy and left behind an extensive trial. The BAU team boarded the jet wondering why they were even called in to help in the first place.

“Hey, at least this means you all can still come over tonight.” Rossi said positively.

“Yeah, everyone’s coming, right?” JJ said, scanning the plane, but no one spoke up. Just nods of heads to confirm that they were all going.

They all took their seperate cars to Rossi’s, with Emily riding with JJ because she left her car at her apartment and took the subway.  

When Spencer got there, the house was lit up. Rossi and Hotch had been the first ones to arrive, and shortly after Spencer the rest came filing in the door, joking and laughing with everyone. Spencer caught sight of everyone holding their gifts, wondering which bag or wrapped box was for him. Penelope was the last to come in, taking off her shoes at the door like everyone else and smiling at him with a wrapped present.

“Not for you,” She said, seeing the look on his face “That comes later.”

They all ate good food and talked and drank wine that night, and everything seemed perfect for that moment in time.

“Ok, ok. It is time for the event that we all came here for to take place!” Penelope said, a little wine drunk, standing up and grabbing her present. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, everyone stand up and go find whoever you were assigned. That’s it, good luck.”

They all rose from their seats to go find their assigned person. Spencer just silently waited. He knew he had Morgan, but he wanted to receive his present first and then find Derek because he was a little more… personal, and he didn’t want anyone getting in the way. Just then Derek made his way to him . No, no way is this happening, he thought, terrified and excited at the same time.

“Spencer Reid,” He said, handing the doctor a poorly wrapped present “I believe this is for you.”

“Oh my god,” Reid said, eyes darting between the present and Morgan.

“What?” Derek asked, visibly confused.

“Here. You were who I was assigned.” Spencer said bluntly, shoving the small present towards him.

“What are the odds,” Derek said, and then added as Spencer opened his mouth “please do not actually tell me the odds,” and they both laughed, unwrapping their gifts to each other. Spencer, since he got his gift first, unwrapped it faster and found a book.

“Derek, I love this,” It was a book he had never read before, and from the many books Spencer Reid had read, there weren’t a lot of those left. “Thank you.” He said, looking at him. He thumbed through the pages as the scent of the new book filled the air around them.

“Look at the inside cover.” Derek said, with a hint of shakiness in his voice.

“Only if you look at the CD.” Derek was holding the case in his hands, not taking the disc out itself yet. He was going to listen to it on the car ride home, he had told himself.

“Ok,” Derek wondered what was written on the CD. Probably just a funny playlist name or some fun fact about music, he thought dismissively. At the same time he pulled the disc gently from it’s casing, Spencer opened the cover to the book. In Spencer’s scrawled handwriting, Derek made out the words ‘I love you.’ written in black sharpie on the disc. As Spencer opened the book, he found Derek’s bold lettering on the cover page, saying ‘I love you.’

At the same time, they both looked at each other and came to a realization that this was not platonic. This wasn’t the way friends said they loved each other. And they both realized that the other felt the same way that they had been feeling for months.

“I love you too,” They both said at the same time, both letting out a laugh and realizing what happened.

“My place after this?” Derek asked under his breath.

“Most definitely.” Spencer replied, leaving Derek with a kiss on the cheek to go talk to Penelope.

[myshipshipsitself]

Title: It’s Okay Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Eileen, Jack Word Count: 3140 Warning(s): SPOILERS 15x18; Angst w/ a happy ending Read on Ao3 here

Summary:

Everything is back to normal, the world keeps spinning, families are back and people are reunited. Everyone is back and safe. Everyone except the one person Dean has been waiting to walk through the door.

A cosmic reset button. Dean didn’t think they could actually do it. Well, they didn’t necessarily. It had mostly been Jack.

The nephilim slept for a solid week after the fight. After Chuck was gone for good, as well as Amara. Dean had worried if the boy would wake up, but Sam kept an eye on him. And everything was back the way it should be. Mostly, anyway. The world seemed to be back. According to news reports, the entire world just didn’t remember the two or three days between when they disappeared and when they were returned. Some people had little memory, and there were cases of some people missing entirely still, though enough John and Jane Does kept turning up that it appeared that everyone had returned, in one fashion or another. People tried to piece it together, but few people had any pieces, and they weren’t sharing. Bobby, Charlie, Stevie, they were all back. Eileen was back, and happy with Sam. They had been helping Bobby and Charlie, tracking down and tracing all of the missing family members to the claims of people whose memories had been more affected, and working on reuniting them with their loved ones.

The day Jack woke up, he disappeared almost immediately, leaving behind Sam and Eileen worried, and Dean cursing under his breath. He had hoped to talk to Jack. To find out if he…If the Empty might like him better than Chuck. If he could do anything to bring Cas back. But he left.

It was a win. On some level, Dean knew that. On a logical level, maybe. The entire population of the world had been returned. Sam had Eileen. Charlie had Stevie. They were worried about Dean, of course. But they were also happy. They won.

They won. Dean didn’t. Dean felt like screaming at the world. They got to go on as if nothing had changed. As if everyone was safe and alive, but not everyone was. Cas wasn’t.

Dean spent more than his fair share of time drunk. He’d tried for a few days, reading books and going through lore. But he couldn’t ind anything, and when Sam offered to help, he let his brother search. And he got drunk.

He alternated between drinking in his room and drinking in the trap room. Staring, just staring at the wall where the Empty had manifested, had came to take Cas away from him.

Standing in there, now two weeks after everything—a week after Jack had left, Dean’s eyes traced the wall. Sam had cleaned up the glass shards from the beer bottle Dean had thrown at the wall last night. Just like he’d cleaned it up every time it happened. The stained splatter of the small amount of liquid left in the bottles still decorated the wall. Dark spots of beer soaked into the cracks.

Sam had tried to get him to talk at first, but he’d given up after a few days. It wasn’t his business to know exactly what had happened. Cas was gone. That was all he needed to know. The details were for Dean alone. The tearful words spoken into the air between him and Cas—those were his burden to carry.

The words unspoken between them—those were heavier, but still his alone to carry.

Lately, Sam left Dean to his own devices. Probably believing he’d come around eventually. It was a naive thought, but it suited Dean’s needs, so he didn’t correct it. Sam only ever bothered him to make sure he ate a meal on occasion, and drank some water along with the beer. Otherwise, he left Dean alone and stayed buried in books that didn’t hold any answers.

Which was why it was strange to hear his brother’s voice calling his name, and hurried footsteps in the hall outside. “Dean! Dean! Wait, no don’t—“ His voice broke off, and Sam turned to see his brother wince at the shatter of yet against bottle against the wall.

“Leave me alone, Sam,” Dean muttered. His voice didn’t sound angry, not anymore. Just tired.

“At least that’s the last bottle I’ll have to clean up,” Sam said. Dean heard the sigh, but he wasn’t looking at his brother, just using to storm past him and go get another beer. It was early, before noon, and he hadn’t been awake long enough to build up anything stronger than a light buzz, and that wouldn’t get him through the day.

“Tell yourself whatever you need to.”

“Dean, wait,” Sam grabbed his arm, and Dean jerked away from him like he’d caught fire, glare now turned to his brother.

“Leave me alone,” he repeated, venom returning to his voice.

“Jack’s back,” Sam said. Now Dean could see the smile on Sam’s face, the brightness in his eyes. Dean wanted to punch him.

“Good for him. Hope he brought more beer.”

“No, Dean, wait,” Sam hurried, stepping to block Dean’s path, though he didn’t touch him again. Sam’s hands were held up in front of Dean to stop him, but he didn’t reach out to try and grab his arm again. “He didn’t come back alone.”

Dean waited a beat, eyebrows raised before sighing. “I don’t care. Tell Bobby or whoever that I’m sick.”

“Dean,” Sam repeated his name again, it almost sounding like a whine. Dean was tired of this already. He just wanted to lock himself in his room, and let everyone else enjoy their new perfect world. He was the only one suffering, apparently.

The thought wasn’t a fair one, he knew. Sam missed Cas, and Jack missed him, but it wasn’t the same.

“Cas is with him.”

The words sounded strange, like they didn’t make sense together. The words all had distinct meanings, and Dean understood those, but put together in that way—It sounded almost like static.

“What?” For the first time since the day Cas was taken, when he’d had to tell Sam that Cas was gone, he heard his own voice break.

He wasn’t sure if Sam said anything else. It sounded like an ocean roaring in his ears as he pushed past Sam, his legs carrying him at a sprint through the bunker. It belated occurred to him that he should’ve asked Sam where Jack and Cas were, but he stopped dead when his feet reached the entryway.

Jack’s smile was bright when he turned to look at Dean, but Dean’s eyes were glued to the figure beside him. “Cas,” he breathed, so quietly he didn’t think either of them could hear him, but Cas smiled.

“Hello, Dean,” he said. The familiar greeting, the familiar voice, broke something, and Dean surged across the empty space between them, nearly knocking them both over as he wrapped his arms around Cas. He vaguely registered Jack’s hand brushing his arm, pressed against Cas’s back for just a moment to help keep Dean from actually knocking them over, then the nephilim stepped out of his line of sight.

“You’re alive,” Dean said, his voice muffled against the shoulder of Cas’s trench coat.

“I am,” Cas answered. Dean felt the arms around him loosen after a moment, a silent signal that the typically expected hug had reached its allotted time limit, but Dean only tightened his grip. He wasn’t ready to let go, not yet. Seconds ticked by. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean again, though loosely, almost uncertain. Slow footsteps drew closer—heavy steps that definitely belonged to his brother, not Eileen.

If Sam noticed that Dean held on to Cas a little too long, he had the decency not to mention it. Once Dean felt like he could breathe again, he pulled back. The smile that stretched across his face pulled at muscles sorely used over the last few weeks.

Looking at Cas though, his hands still resting on the angel’s shoulders, he knew he should say something. He had to say something, but no words came out. His smile faded a little, though Cas was still beaming at him.

“I think this calls for a celebration dinner.” Dean hadn’t been so happy to hear his brother’s voice in a long time.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said quickly, squeezing Cas’s shoulder again, as if reminded himself that he was here, alive and in one piece.

Dinner was a blur for Dean. Everyone was relieved, everyone was happy. Dean made everyone swear multiple times that they were done with making deals with anything. “No demon deals, no angel deals, no deals with—“ he broke off for a moment, waving vaguely at nothing. “All powerful voids of Emptiness or whatever. None.”

Otherwise, Dean was quiet at dinner. Some part of him couldn’t quite believe it was real, but some small part of him was also unreasonably pissed off. And he knew it wasn’t fair, he knew that. But fuck. He’d been miserable, he’d spent endless nights cataloging everything he’d done wrong, how he’d gotten him and Cas into that damn situation in the first place, and how Cas had just made his big speech, knowing he would be swallowed up by the Empty. No facing Dean after he said it, no having to deal with Dean’s pain after he was gone, with Dean’s guilt, with his understanding, with his realization—hell, he probably hadn’t even heard Dean’s prayers.

Dean hardly noticed when Jack helped Sam clear the table, and Eileen got up to leave with Sam. He barely registered Jack giving Cas another hug before leaving for his room. He did notice the subtle, uncomfortable way Cas shifted a bit once they were alone. He’d been acutely aware of the angel since the moment he got back. Every smile that faded a little into something uncertain when he caught Dean’s eye, every hesitation when he accidentally brushed against Dean’s arm when he reached past him or was speaking with his hands too much.

“Good night, Dean.” The words, the scrape of the chair as Cas stood, snapped Dean back, his hand reaching out to grip the sleeve of Cas’s trench coat without conscious thought. Cas froze, blue eyes meeting his with some uncertainty, though no less warmth than they always held. Love, Dean knew now.

Dean licked his lips, and tried not to notice the way Cas’s eyes dropped a fraction to follow the movement. Dean opened his mouth, tried to form any kind of coherent thought. An apology, a confession, anything.

“You stupid son of a bitch.” Not that. He did not intend to say that, and judging by the way Cas’s expression hardened, defensive in what he must’ve assumed to become an angry response to his confession to Dean, he hadn’t expected that response either. Dean stood as well so they were closer to eye level, his grip only tightening on the sleeve of Cas’s coat. “You don’t get to just tell me you frickin love me, and then die. You can’t just—What the hell, man?”

“I’m sorry if my words made you uncomfortable, Dean. It was never my intention,” Cas answered, his voice low and dejected in a way that made Dean feel like the bad guy. But he wasn’t. Cas was the one that left—what right did he have to make Dean feel guilty over being upset with him for leaving?

Except, it occurred belatedly to Dean that that wasn’t what Cas had apologized for. “Cas, that’s not—“

“I didn’t intend to hurt you, or make you feel—“

“Cas, stop. You—“

“—uncomfortable. I don’t expect—“

“—aren’t listening to—“

“—you to reciprocate. You don’t—“

“—me. Will you shut up for a—“

“—have to say anything. I understa—“

Dean almost wishes he could fall back on alcohol, or say he wasn’t thinking, but he was. He knew exactly what he was doing when he cut Cas off one more time, this time the only way he knew for certain would shut him up. The hand gripping Cas’s sleeve came up to the lapel of his trench coat instead, tugging Cas forward as his other hand found the back of Cas’s neck.

When their lips met, it was like everything stopped, and everything came alive simultaneously. Words ceased, the room fell away, the steady hum of the fridge faded. And everything felt electric. His skin buzzed, his lips burned in the most pleasant way—and after a moment it hit him that Cas wasn’t moving.

Dean jerked away as soon as the realization occurred to him. Cas stared, unmoving back at him, eyes wide. Dread and guilt hit him like a wave. He’d misread everything. Cas didn’t love him—not like that—of course he didn’t. Dean was just a human, and not even a good one at that. His soul was tainted, burned and charred from the pits of Hell, from the demon, from everything he’d done and everyone he’d hurt without the excuse of either.

“Shit,” Dean breathed out. His hands pulled back, palms held up in front of him. “Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I misunderstood—Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Dean,” Cas’s voice was softer, almost wistful this time when he spoke, a small, almost disbelieving smile pulling at his lips. Dean didn’t move, didn’t say anything, afraid of screwing up again. It seemed to be the only thing he was good at, apparently. But Cas only reached out, taking one of Dean’s hands in his own, and pulling it forward to press flat against as his chest as he closer the distance between them again.

Every muscle in Dean’s body seemed to melt into the embrace this time, in the reciprocity of Cas’s lips pressed against his. Dean wrapped his hand still under Cas’s tight in the fabric of the trench coat under his fingers, as if he could hold on tightly enough to keep him from leaving again. The kiss was more desperate, or maybe it only felt that way to Dean. After a moment, Cas moved a hand to his face, fingers caressing over his cheek causing Dean’s breath to hitch. He didn’t realize there were tears on his face until Cas pulled away, just a little, and Dean felt fingertips brush wet tears away from his face. When his eyes fluttered open, he couldn’t catch his breath, not with the way Cas was looking at him. His eyes were bright and warm, filled with the love that he’d been able to voice and Dean was still unable to.

“Cas, I—“

“Hey Dean, can you help me with—Shit, sorry,” Sam’s hurried voice broke off at the same time that Dean stumbled back away from Cas, facing burning and gaze unable to meet his brother’s.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered under his breath. “Can it wait, Sam?” The words came out sharper than he’d intended.

“It’s nothing, it can wait,” Sam said quickly.

“There’s no need,” Cas answered. Dean was surprised, and honestly a little annoyed, with how even his tone was. How little affected he sounded. “I’ll go and check on Jack.” He caught Dean’s eye offering a smile that made Dean blush harder, before turning to leave.

“I’m really sorry,” Sam repeated. “I uh, I didn’t mean to interrupt…anything.”

“Nothing to interrupt,” Dean answered. He coughed to clear his throat and made his way to the fridge for a beer, still unable to catch Sam’s eye.

“Right,” Sam said. Dean could hear the disbelief in his tone.

“What do you need, Sammy?”

“It’s nothing, really,” Sam insisted, but his laptop was open and perched on his arm. Dean looked at it instead of his brother, nodding towards it.

“Really? Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Just the latest list of John and Jane Does Bobby sent over,” Sam answered. He closed the laptop and set it on the table. Dean popped the cap off his beer, already dreading whatever Sam was going to say. “You know it’s okay, right?” Sam’s voice was softer when he spoke again.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Dean responded. “I’ll help you go through the list tomorrow, alright? I’m tired, I think I’m just gonna—“

“Dean, stop,” Sam said, exasperation clear in his tone. Dean stopped moving towards the door, though his back was still to his brother, hand clenching the beer bottle so tight his knuckles were turning white. “It’s okay. You and Cas. You deserve to be happy, just like I am with Eileen.” Dean didn’t respond, he wasn’t sure how to. After a moment, Sam laughed a little, and Dean turned around to shoot a glare at him. Sam only held a hand up in innocence. “Sorry, I just. I’m surprised I didn’t figure it out sooner.”

“Yeah, and how’s that?” Dean snapped at him. He didn’t intend to snap at him, but how the hell did Sam expect that he was supposed to figure something out when Dean wasn’t even sure he’d figured it out entirely?

“Every time we lost Cas, you were always—you were devastated, and it was worse every time. Especially this last time, I thought—Dean, I honestly, if he hadn’t come back, I wasn’t sure we’d had ever gotten you back,” Sam admitted. Dean felt himself—not relax, more just drop. His shoulders fell, his head dropped, his grip on the bottle loosened a little.

“I know,” he said quietly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Sam said. Dean dragged his eyes back up to meet Sam’s, to se a warm smile on his face. Dean was unwilling to move, so Sam did, walking towards him and reaching out to squeeze Dean’s shoulder. “Just be happy. Let yourself be happy, for once. Everything’s ok. There’s no overarching evil, no Chuck, no Amara. Hell, I haven’t seen even the inkling of any kind of demon activity since everything was set back. It’s ok. The world is ok, and you and Cas—That’s ok too.”

Dean didn’t know what he was supposed to say. He hadn’t expected any of this, and hadn’t even thought about how he was going to tell Sam, much less how Sam would respond. So he didn’t say anything, he just reached up, wrapping his arms around his brother in a tight hug. Sam had that bright, stupid smile on his face when he pulled away, drawing an involuntary smile from Dean as well, even as he shoved Sam’s shoulder before turning to leave. “Thanks, Sammy,” he said, mostly because he knew he should, and if he didn’t say it now, he wasn’t going to.

It felt like some kind of weight was taken from his shoulder as he left the kitchen in search of Castiel. A smile tugged at his lips at the thought of the angel, and eh was finally able to indulge the excitement and happiness everyone else had found since the world had been put back together again, now a little bit brighter.

[ak47stylegirl]

I have wings, so why do I feel so stuck to the ground like never before? (Fic snippet #5)

Okay, here’s another snippet! XD I’m really enjoying writing these snippets each day, my writing skills are getting a real good work out lol 😁 Also I want to thank all you guys again, this wouldn’t be as fun as it is without your lovely comments, so again thank you 💙 *hugs you guys tightly*  

I hope you guys enjoy this and hopefully this snippet it’s a bit less depressing then the last one lol 😅 (Also I stayed up pass my bedtime to get this done lol 😁😅)

Snippet 1 | Snippet 2 | Snippet 3 | Snippet 4 

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He was slumped against the side of the sofa in the common room of the tower, feeling all sorts of exhausted. His wings were ruffled and dirty, his suit was not much better; ripped in multiple of places. 

He was sure he was going to spend the foreseeable future sewing those up, he thought with a yawn, covering his mouth with his hand. And the thing that brought the whole exhausted look together were the bandages hastily wrapped around cuts. 

He just didn’t have the energy to deal with them right now.  And he knew that if Virgil knew, he would be despairing at the fact he hasn’t treated his wounds yet but he was tired...

The bandages were enough for now and, anyway, his body healed a lot faster than normal, a result of his mixed DNA. They could wait for a bit...

Along with the healing faster, his whole metabolism was just generally faster, meaning that a whole range of medications just didn’t work for him.  

It was truly a bit scary how much he didn’t know about his own body, he didn’t know how his body worked or how it would react to things. There was a whole other part of him, a foreign alien part that he just didn’t understand. 

The same sentiment was shared with all the unlucky medical professionals that had to treat him. Most of the stuff he know about his body, he learnt from first hand experiences. 

He has broken his bones enough times to figure out that they were hollow inside, but somehow still crazy strong and able to withstand lots of force. (Him being able to fly still out right broke physics, but he has long ago given up trying to figure it out)

He knew he could still get sick from normal germs, because he experienced it, and found out in the process that his alien-half was both a blessing and a curse. 

On one hand, he recovered slightly faster because of his alien DNA, but on the other, his heightened senses, which he got from his alien side, made the whole experience one thousand times worse!

Saying it was not fun, would be an understatement of the century.  

The fast metabolism thing also meant he had to eat more, not as much as a speeder but definitely more then a human. And on a hourly wage like his, that was a hard challenge to fulfil. 

He normally went feeling slightly hungry most of the time, it wasn’t that bad, he gotten used to it. 

He wasn’t the only one looking or feeling exhausted, he thought as he looked around the room with tired eyes. Beast Boy was spread out on the sofa, starring blankly up at the ceiling, half asleep; his uniform dirty and torn in places as well. 

Impulse was sitting in front of the sofa, his head tilted back against the sofa as he snored, sound asleep and covered in mud. Even Red Robin looked tired, his cape discarded next to him as sat cross-legged on the floor; his computer sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

There had been a mass breakout at local prison and so they been out most of the night rounding up them up. They had just gotten back a little while ago and so were dead tired from a night of no sleep. All the others had disappeared to other parts of the tower to recuperate a while ago, leaving just the four of them now.  

He yawned again, dropping his head back against the sofa; blinking tiredly. Red Robin glanced over at him. “Tired?” Red Robin questioned. 

He smiled softly, “as if you ain’t?” 

Red Robin rolled his eyes, small fond smile on his lips. “Nah, chasing down bunches of criminals in the night is my usual..” Despite saying this, a second later Red Robin yawned.

He smirked. 

Red Robin glared at him, “Don’t. Say. A. Word...” 

He grinned at Red Robin, titling his head to the side with a innocent look. “Say what?” He questioned cheekily, leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm. 

Red Robin just glared harder, before grinning, and picking up his discarded cape and throwing it at him, hitting square in the face. He yelped as he got a face full of muddy cape, falling backward as he battered the muddy fabric away, his wings flailing about. 

Red Robin started laughing. 

And before long, he followed suit, a warm feeling in his chest. 

He didn’t know how he did it, especially with Batman seeming to not like him, for obvious ‘former assassin’ shaped reasons, but somehow...Somehow he has become friends with Red Robin and Nightwing. 

Other than Miss Martian, Nightwing and Red Robin were the closest he has ever gotten with anyone in the superhero world. He guessed that closeness was most present in the fact he knew their secret identities, and they knew his past and who his family was. 

He had figured it out on his own, (A fact he was sure Batman probably hated. Also, Tracy Industries was better than Wayne Enterprises!) The same way they had figured out who his family was. 

Nobody else knew he was a Tracy or that his family was international rescue; he sure didn’t feel comfortable sharing such a personal fact with anybody else. Especially the international rescue part, he was not going to betray his family’s trust by revealing that secret to anybody. 

Red Robin, he got along really well with. They have been known to work on cases together, and just being...well good friends. 

And as for Nightwing... 

Honestly the guy sort of taken him under his wing in a sense, seeing that he needed some kind of guiding figure. (Though there was only so far he’ll let Nightwing go in that aspect, he already had four big brothers and that was enough for him...) 

Though he has a feeling Nightwing has ultimate motive for doing that, because didn’t his big brother Scott go to college with someone with the last name Grayson? 

At the end of the day, it just felt good to know that there were people in the superhero community that he could rely on, that knew his whole past and despite his mind constantly telling him otherwise, did care about him...

It didn’t fix the gaping hole in his chest where his brothers belonged and were missing, but...

But...It just felt good anyhow...