#Cream was the one who first opened Blaze up to friendship

[inky-axolotl-gaia]

Bit of a hot take, but Blaze’s friendship with Cream and Sonic deserves just as much (if not in some ways even more so) attention and exploration as her friendship with Silver given how much they hugely impacted Blaze and helped her to grow as a person. This applies both to canon and in the fandom space.

#look yes I get it- Blaze and Silver’s friendship is really cute and there’s a reason why they’re popular as a duo ever since 06 #certainly not trying to discredit their friendship or I guess folks that love to ship silvaze #BUT Cream and Sonic literally changed Blaze forever and I guarantee if it wasn’t for them then she and Silver never could’ve been friends #Cream was the one who first opened Blaze up to friendship #Sonic imparted on her that she doesn’t have to carry the world on her shoulders #at least not alone #not to mention teaching her how to activate burning Blaze and properly control the Sol emeralds #their friendship with Blaze just means so much to me okay- #also I can understand people instantly jump to Silver when thinking of Blaze’s friends given I think far more people played or knew about 06 #while Rush was only on the DS and while there’s certainly a sizable number of fans I’ve seen that have also played the game it’s still few #but even understanding that I can’t help but feel a smidge upset that I rarely see cream + Blaze or sonic + Blaze one on one interactions #and this isn’t even talking about shipping whether Silvaze or Sonaze: just them being good friends #I could probably go on about Rush forever- #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic rush #blaze the cat #blaze #inky axolotl talks #cream the rabbit

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

In Another Life

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Dean POV

Summary: When Dean wakes up in another life with you, he begins to question your friendship and realizes that he has loved you all along. But how can he change that? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Mutual Pining

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. I’ll say mention of gore, but for one second. Maybe one allusion to sex, but not really.  Some swearing (once or twice). Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Dean’s perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. This is my first time writing for Supernatural, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics

Main Masterlist

*********************************************

Dean couldn’t remember what happened last night only that the bed beneath him felt like an old friend welcoming him home. The night before ghosted across his mind, hovering just out of reach, memories of a dream barely forming from a fog of uncertainty. He fades in and out of sleep in a mist that soothes his aching body.

“Dean?” A soft voice whispers.

Dean groans and squeezes his pillow tighter against his chest to avoid waking up. He didn’t care what time it was, all he knew was that he didn’t want to get out of bed.

“Leave me alone Sammy.” He grumbles into the pillow.

“Dean.” The voice says again, this time with a happy laugh that sounds nothing like Sam.

His eyes open,  blinded by the sunlight that streams through the large windows on the other side of the bedroom.

Wait. Where am I?

“Dean we have to get up or we’ll be late for the party.”

Dean looks towards the voice and  realizes that he’s not squeezing a pillow, it’s you. You’re facing him, hair fanning out over the pillow beneath your head, eyes wide and crinkled around the edges, smiling at him.

“Y/n?” Dean says it hesitantly, arms tightening around your waist.

“No no no. Don’t look at me like that. I will not be roped into staying in bed. We can’t be late for your mom’s birthday party and you promised you would come with me to pick up the cake.”

“But-“ Dean couldn’t remember how he got here, only that something feels wrong.

“No buts.” You giggle, before leaning forward and kissing him.

Dean freezes, confused, but the soft movement of your mouth against his erases any uncertainty. He eases his face forward nudging his nose into yours to deepen the kiss. Dean doesn’t know how he got here, but all he knows is how natural it feels to be here with you. Before he can stop himself he rolls you over your back, bringing a moan from you that vibrates though his skull. His fingertips blaze a trail along your hips.

“Easy there tiger.” You smile up at him. “You don’t want to crush Zeppelin.”

Dean’s confusion makes you laugh, before he finally looks down between you. “You’re pregnant.” He whispers, noting the protrusion of your abdomen.

“I mean I think so.” You laugh in a way that makes his heart jump and buckle.

Dean lays his hand down on the smooth skin where your shirt pushes up. Why can’t I remember this? He thinks to himself confused, searching for memories he can’t recall.

“I believe we’ve talked about it several times. And it was you who decided to stay up until 4 am painting the nursery.” Your hands gently brush his hair back out of his face. “You did such a good job baby.”

Dean reaches for the memory, but he can’t seem to

 grasp it. “I did?”

“Mhmm. Look at you, you’re still covered in paint.” You smile wider picking up the hand that rests on your belly to show him the splashes of cream colored paint flecked along the back of his hand. And as you do he notices the ring on your left hand.

“Are we married?” Dean tries again to grasp for his memory but comes up empty handed. He strokes his thumb along the back of yours examining the ring.

I should remember that. How could I forget that we’re married?

“Feigning amnesia will not make me stay in bed with you. No matter how cute you are.”  You gently lay your hand against his chest pushing him back so you can sit up in bed.

Dean can’t help but notice how beautiful and carefree you look. Hair catching fire in the light from the window, t-shirt brushing against the top of your thighs, and how you smile at him with so much love it makes something catch in his chest.

“Dean?” You suddenly look worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m just tired I guess.”

His cell phone rings where it sits on the nightstand, drawing his gaze to the alarm clock and car magazine that sit on top of the dark wood.

“You better answer that. It’s probably Sam asking us where we are.” You kiss him on the cheek, before standing up and walking into the closet on the edge of the bedroom.

Dean watches you go, his eyes tracing your familiar figure as you leave the room, before reaching for his phone.

“Hey where are you guys? Jessica’s freaking out because you haven’t brought the cake.” Sam’s  voice triggers another memory for Dean, but this one remains allusive.

“Sam?”

“Dean.”

“Um.”

“Dean are you hungover or something?”

“No. Sorry, just running a little late-“ Dean apologizes looking around the bedroom. It’s small, filled with light from the open window that shows a quaint backyard. The dresser on the wall opposite the bed has photos of him and you, photos of Sam and Jessica, and a photo of Mary and John Winchester. Dean’s eyes stop on the photo as a memory triggers at the back of his mind, but Sam interrupts the thought.

“Well come on. Dad’s not going to like it if you guys miss mom’s birthday-“

“Dad?” Deans memory spikes again and he sees his father sitting in the drivers seat humming along to a song on the radio. Another memory flashes, Dean and his father standing behind the impala with Sam looking into the trunk.

“Yes dad. Your boss. Our father. Dean are you okay? Y/n said that you were painting the nursery last night all by yourself. You could have told me. I would have come over to help-“

“I’m alright Sammy.”

But he doesn’t feel alright, something is definitely wrong.

“Okay well hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Dean hangs up the phone and sits on the end of the bed with it in his hand.

You walk back into the room wearing a green sundress. Your hair is soft again, falling over your shoulders in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, effortlessly beautiful.

A memory of you wearing jeans and a leather jacket washes across his mind of you standing with him at the back of the Impala reaching in for a shotgun while he knocks your hand away.

“Dean?” You walk towards him, this time standing between his legs. You place your hands on his shoulders and he can’t help but turn to look at the wedding ring. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go today. I can call your dad. But I just thought your really wanted to go. You hate missing your mother’s birthday. It’s usually you that drags me out of bed.” You trail your hand against the side of his face with a worried expression, to turn his gaze back on you.

Someone deep in the back of his mind the expression triggers something and he sees a memory of you. Except you’re holding a machete in your right hand that drips blood on the floor but, the look of worry in your eyes the same.

Where could that be from?

“I don’t know.”

“Hey.” You whisper, sitting down in his lap and his arms can’t help but secure you there, burying his head in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m scared too.”

“What?” Dean raises his head from your shoulder

“We’ve talked about this. You’re going to be a great dad. And honestly we probably won’t know what we’re doing, but that’s how everyone starts.” Your fingertips drag through his hair in a soothing motion.

Dean tries again to grasp at earlier memories of this life, early memories of you, but all he sees are motel rooms. Motel rooms where you sleep on a pullout couch in a corner and where Sam sits  at a small table shuffling through endless books and papers.

Why?

Dean can’t understand, because that life seems so different than this one. This one where you look softer and happier, where you share a bed and are married. He thinks about the other memories, where your smile is not as bright, where there’s a hardness to your face, but still just as beautiful. Another memory of him and you sitting in a bar drinking beer, another of you laughing at something he said and hitting him, and finally one of you reading in bed while Dean sits at a motel table and watches you softly turn the pages.

Deep down Dean knows in his bones that in those memories  you and him are just friends, but he allows himself to indulge in your touch, enjoying the comfort that comes with being with you.

“It’s not about the baby.” Dean sighs. “I just can’t remember how we got here.”

“Here?”

“Married.” His arms tighten around your waist not wanting to let go. You’re the only thing he recognizes in all of this.

“Um well, my car broke down and I brought it to a mechanic shop where I met a devilishly handsome man with green eyes.” You smile at him. “Who refused to let me leave until he bought me dinner.”

Dean stares at you.

“Practically kidnapped me. But you were so charming I couldn’t resist.” You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Not to mention sexy covered in grease and wearing a meatloaf t-shirt.” You kiss him before he can respond, and he loses himself in you. The way you hold him close, the way your fingers work up into his hair to secure him right where he wants to be, and the way you feel in his arms wipes away any uncertainty. “As much as I’d like to go back to bed with you, we’re going to be late.” You whisper against his lips.

And Dean allows himself to be dragged away.

*********************************************

“Did you remember to order the parts for that ‘76 Camaro right?” John Winchester asks Dean, but Dean’s not focused, he can’t focus on anything.

The drive over to his parents house was different. Instead of sitting on the opposite side of the front seat of the impala, you had sat in the middle, holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder, humming softly.

It made driving for Dean especially difficult. The memories of you in his car that came across his mind while he drove distracted him.

You  in the backseat shouting something at Dean while he completely ignored you rolling his eyes, you sitting in the front seat with a map trying to direct him while Sam slept in the back, you singing to “The Eye of the Tiger” with him while Sam tried to close his ears, and finally you asleep in the front seat with Dean’s jacket draped over you.  That last one stayed in his mind. He liked how you looked wrapped up in his jacket, breath fogging the glass window, while Dean tried his best to drive smooth and slow so you wouldn't wake.

But you in the front seat holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder while humming along to the music blew all of those memories out of the water. All Dean wanted to do was exist there and then.

When you both arrived at his parents home Dean tried not to be disappointed. Now he was too distracted watching you talk and laugh with Jessica and his mother across the room to listen to anything his father said.

“Dean are you listening?” His dad tries again.

“Huh?” The cold beer in Dean’s hand drips condensation against his skin. He turns to look back at his father.

Another memory of him momentarily distracts Dean, this one of John leaving Dean and Sam in a motel room so he can go hunting.

Did we ever go hunting? Dean tries to think of a time where they went out into the woods to shoot some deer, but comes up empty handed. A few memories of him and Sam toting guns rise to the surface, but he can't remember why they had them.

"You'll have to excuse Dean, he's still mentally painting the nursery." Sam snorts into his beer.

"Shut up."

"Don't tease him Sam. I'm sure that Jessica will have you turn your office into a nursery before you know it." You appear on Dean's left, raising his arm around you so you can lean into his side. Dean automatically tightens his arm around your shoulders.

"Don't joke about that y/n."

"Uh-huh. You can't hide in that big fancy law firm forever. She'll find you." You smile up at Dean in a way that makes his heart feel like its stopped beating.

Why can't I remember any of this life?

"She's right." Jessica comes over to kiss Sam on the cheek.

"I do not hide at the firm-" Sam rolls his eyes.

"You do."

Mary Winchester comes over. "Are you fighting at my birthday party?"

Dean's father puts his arm around his mother, pulling her into his chest with a smile he hides by taking a swig of beer.

"No mom, we're not-"

"Sounded like a fight to me." You whisper to Dean, and he can't help but smile at you.

"It's not a fight y/n!"

"Don't yell at my wife Sammy." Dean says before he can stop himself. He thinks about how natural it sounded coming out of his mouth.

His wife. You're his wife. He thinks and presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you sigh into his chest.

"I'm not yelling at y/n." 

"Sam we're just teasing you." Jessica laughs, placing her hand against his chest. Dean notices the ring on her own finger, and a memory of Jessica rises in the back of his head. Jessica standing in the darkness of an apartment, while Dean holds on to the front of Sam's shirt, her eyes wide and confused.

But it vanishes when you wince in his arms. Dean's eyes are drawn back down to you, worry spiking in his chest.

"I'm okay." You whisper. "Just think Zeppelin is hitting his limit."

"You guys go on home. I think that John has grilled Dean about the garage enough." Mary smiles, before taking a step forward to hug you. Dean is disappointed when you leave his arms, but smiles despite, watching you with his mother.

"Let the little linebacker get some rest." John hugs you.

"Of course. Thank you so much for letting us come. I'm sorry we were late." Dean watches the subtle blush of your cheeks as you apologize.

"I'm sure it's my son's fault." Mary moves to hug Dean.

As soon as she does Dean is overwhelmed by a surge of sadness as another memory of his mother rises in the back of his mind that he can't quite bring into focus.

"Mom?" Dean whispers.

"Hmm?" She looks up at him confused. "We'll see you on Tuesday for dinner. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We love you."

"I love you too mom." But something sticks in his chest when he says it.

“Don’t forget to order the parts.” John says shaking Dean’s hand.

“Sure.”

“Bye Jessica. Let me know if you need us to bring anything for Tuesday.” Dean watches you hug her and just for a moment Dean sees Sam holding a bouquet of flowers at a gravesite.

What is happening?

*********************************************

When Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of your home something still feels wrong. After saying goodbye to everyone he still can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something. The radio plays "Black Dog" filling the silence as the car idles in front of the house.

“Dean!”

“What?” He turns to look at where you sit beside him in the front seat.

“Feel.” You grab one of his hands from the wheel and place it against your abdomen an excited smile gracing your cheeks. “Little future drummer."

The kicking against the palm of his hand makes Dean smile, leaning forward into where you sit beside him. Happiness breaks in his chest like the crest of a wave. He can't remember a moment in his life where he felt this happy, this much love for someone.

"Y/n?"

"Mhmm."

"I love you." Dean refuses to believe that he has said it to anyone else ever in his life, can't remember wanting to say it to anyone else, can't believe that he will ever want to say it to anyone else.

"I love you too."

He leans down to kiss you, hand still against your stomach, drawing you further into him to breathe you in. Everything else vanishes, just the feel of your soft lips against his, the tickle of your hair against his cheeks, and the pulse of his son's kicks against the palm of his hand.

But then it's all gone.

*********************************************

"Dean!" Sam's voice jars him into reality, his eyes opening to see his brother standing over him, one hand on his shoulder. "Dean are you okay?"

"What happened?" Dean sits up with a groan, ignoring the headache that throbs behind his eyes.

His eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in a long room where wooden tables sit every few feet covered in dust and machinery blanketed with old sheets. The musty smell fills his nose, replacing the smell of your shampoo that lingers under his nose from when you were in the front seat with him.

"Djinn ambushed you. Y/n and I got here as soon as we could."

"Y/n?" The memories of the dream strike him in the chest all over again, merging with memories of reality. "Where is Y/n?"

You enter the room out of breath, blood flecked across your cheeks and holding a baseball bat that drips a dark liquid onto the concrete floor. “It’s dead.”

"You sure?" Sam asks raising an eyebrow.

"There's enough brain matter on the floor in there for a zombie buffet." You shoulder the baseball bat. "So yeah, it's dead."

Dean’s eyes trace your body taking in the leather jacket and dark t-shirt his memory flashing to the green sundress and beautiful smile. You’re half-smiling, but Dean can see the hardness in your face again and understands where it comes from.

She wasn’t a hunter. He thinks of the dream version of you, where your hair fell in soft curls, but now it’s tied back in a ponytail. His eyes drop to your abdomen expecting more, but disappointment flicks in his heart. It wasn’t real.

“Dean are you okay?” You step closer to him. The smile has dropped now, replaced with a worried expression.

He flashes back to when you asked him that in the dream, when you sat on his lap and tangled your hands in his hair, sighing into his mouth as he kissed you.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He traces your face again but every time he does he only sees the other version of you, the version that’s in love with him, married to him. And he knows that here you are just his friend.

“Yeah.” He says again standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”

The ride back to the motel is silent. Dean doesn’t put on any music, too afraid that it’ll remind him of the memory of you and him in the front seat while his son kicked against his hand. Instead, all he can think of was how happy he was in the other life, how in love with you he was-

Dean knew that it wasn’t just a fantasy, that he really is in love with you, but now after seeing how everything could be, it weighed on his chest. Each time you looked at him he wanted to pull you close to him, hug you, kiss you, but he knew you would pull away. Because this version of you was not his.

“I’m going to go to that diner on the corner. You guys want something?” Sam looks around the room expectantly, but Dean doesn’t look up from the carpet.

“Sure.” Dean hears you respond. “Maybe just a burger and a piece of pie. Preferably apple but I'll take cherry if they have it."

“Okay. Dean?” Sam asks again.

Dean shakes his head. He can’t eat. Not now.

Sam hesitates at the door worried. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want anything.” Dean snaps.

“Yeesh don’t bite my head off.” Sam throws you a shrug before leaving.

Dean is aware that it’s just the two of you now, the memory of the two of you in bed surfaces making him tighten his grip on the edge of the blanket beneath him.

“Dean?” You whisper.

“What?” His voice comes out harsher than he means it to.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong.” But he can’t look at you, not when he knows he'll look up and you won't be pregnant and not when the other version of you still has a hold of his heart.

“Dean you’re my best friend I know when something’s wrong. Plus you haven’t been able to look at me since you woke up and you never say no to food.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dean-“

“Just leave me alone damnit!” He snaps at you, able to raise his gaze from the floor for one second. Dean immediately feels bad, watching the pain in your eyes as he pushes you away. But he lowers his eyes to the carpet once more to avoid your gaze.

You sigh, but don’t get angry with him. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I'll just leave you alone then.”

And as soon as you leave to take a shower he feels the loss of you beside him.

He listens to the sound of the shower, feels the passing of time, but he does not move. The memories of the dream rise and fall, replacing the darkness of the hotel room with brilliant light. The memory of the sun catching your hair on fire as you laid next to him in bed tracing your fingertips along his jaw, the memory of you in the front seat of the Impala leaning against him and humming while you hold his hand, the memory of the party where he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tightly into his chest, and finally the memory of the last kiss you shared in the front seat of the Impala each dance across his mind. He acutely feels the loss of your body against his, the loss of your lips, and finally the sound of your voice telling him you love him while his son kicked against his hand.

“Dean?”

He looks up at you. You look softer than you did. The blood is gone from your cheeks, your hair falls over your shoulders still wet from the shower, effortlessly beautiful, he decides. You’re wearing one of his old t-shirts that he gave you and a pair of sweatpants. It does something to him, watching you stand there in his shirt. It hangs past your waist like a dress, making you look smaller than you are. The smell of your shampoo wafts out of the bathroom, something familiar that makes his throat tight.

“You know when that Djinn got me a few months ago it threw me for a loop too.” You say softly leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “Everything felt so real. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.”

Dean remembers when that happened. When you vanished out of the blue while checking out a case alone and he and Sam tore apart the small town looking for you. Dean remembers how worried he was, how desperate he was to find you.

I loved her then too. Dean realizes looking at you. How did I not know?

Dean remembers the aftermath, when you woke up and wouldn’t look at him. How your gaze was almost haunted and how he had to carry you out of there because you couldn’t move. He remembers you laying in bed and turning away from him and Sam when they had asked you what was wrong and the following day when you acted like nothing happened.

“What did it make you see?” Dean whispers, noting the way you shift back and forth on your feet. He hadn't seen you nervous before, seen you face down demons and vampires without batting an eye, but now you looked vulnerable.

You look down at your feet.  “If I say it you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Dean, I’m serious.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” He watches the tension in your shoulders.

Why would she be afraid to tell me? We talk about everything.

“It was us.”

“What?” Shock tugs at his heart and for a second he thinks that he heard you wrong.

“It was us. We were married. We had 2 kids. My brother was still alive and my parents were talking to me again. I was happy there. It was hard to come back. Not that I’m not happy, but just that it’s hard to think you’ve lived a life that doesn’t exist. Especially one so different than all of this.” Dean watches you take in a deep breath, tapping your finger against your bicep, avoiding his eyes. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.” 

Dean’s heart stops beating. “What did you just say-“

You look up and smile tightly. “It’s when I realized I was in love with you. That’s why I was so messed up. I didn't know how to-“

Sam chooses that exact moment to walk in loaded with bags of food. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much.” Dean watches you easily shift your expression to hide what just happened, smiling at Sam as if you hadn’t said the one thing that Dean had been trying to say to you since he woke up. “Just trying to convince Dean to let me work on Baby. I think I’m wearing him down.”

Dean had never realized how much of a good liar you were until this moment, sure he had seen you pretend to be a government agent, but this was different.

“Like that’ll happen.” Sam hands you a bag of food before turning to look at Dean. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean watches you pull out the burger, stunned by your confession.

You place the burger next to him on the bed. “Eat this. It’ll help.”

“But-“ He looks up at you, wanting to finish the conversation.

“I promise I’m not that hungry Dean. I’d rather have the pie. Unless you’re going to fight me for it?” You smile raising an eyebrow.

Dean doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you didn’t just say you were in love with him. He gazes at you, searching your face. For a second he sees the mask slip, but before he can comment it’s gone.

“No I won’t.” He whispers.

“Good.” You turn to the made-up pull out couch and fold your legs underneath you with the slice of pie balanced on your knee, before reaching into your bag for a worn paper back.

Dean sits there watching you turn the pages. She loves me. The memory of you in his dream in the front seat of the Impala whispering it to him doesn’t hold the same weight because now all he can hear is you saying it here, now.

Dean can’t move. He wished Sam would leave again. He wished Sam would leave so he could bring you into his chest and kiss you, so he could tell you the one thing he wished he said ages ago.

But he doesn't. All he does is sit there and watch you read.

*********************************************

A few hours after Sam and you have fallen asleep Dean lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear your soft breaths against the pillow, the crinkle of the sheets as you move in your sleep. Usually he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to you, but tonight all it did was keep him awake. Each time he shut his eyes he saw the memory of you in bed with him burning against his eyelids and each time he shut his eyes he heard the real you telling him that you loved him.

Finally, he can't take it anymore.

Dean gets up and makes his way over to the pull-out couch, pausing once to move the paperback book out from under your head. It wasn't the first time that you'd fallen asleep reading, and Dean thought it was cute.

He slides into the bed behind you, gently touching your shoulder to wake you as quietly as possible.

"Hmm." You inhale softly.

"Y/n." Dean whispers.

He watches you turn towards him, eyes blinking in the darkness to rouse yourself from sleep. You hair is flared out over the pillows, eyes hazy. “Dean what are you-“

Dean moves his arm to your waist before pulling you flush into his chest, lips finding yours. The memories of the kiss in his dream are everywhere, but none of them compare to this. You sigh into his mouth, bringing your hands into his hair. Dean breathes you in. You still taste like apple pie, body soft against his, lips smooth and welcoming.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your mouth, eyes finding yours in the darkness of the hotel room.

Your smile breaks him. “It made you see us didn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“The way you looked when you came out. The way you looked at me. I think it’s the same way I looked at you when I woke up." You brush back his hair and Dean can't help but lean forward into your touch. "What did it make you see?"

“We were married. You were pregnant and I was working at a garage. My parents were alive. Jessica was alive-“

“Oh Dean.” You cup his cheeks with a sorrowful expression, before brushing your lips against his. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Dean brings you into his chest, laying on his back so you can rest your head on his heart. His hand slowly traces up and down your spine. You both lie there for a few moments. The subtle beat of your heart soothing the sadness that rises with the memory of his mother and father. Your hand gently rests against his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric.

“I missed you.” He hears you whisper into his chest.

“What?” Dean doesn't understand. "Where did I go?"

“Not like that. I know that it sounds stupid, but we were so happy in the dream. It made me miss you, miss this.” He feels you rub your face into the front of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Dean you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose any of this.” You prop yourself up look him in the eye. “I’m happy here with you and Sam. Y’all are my family and I didn’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m in love with you.”

“Did you think I would have made you leave if you told me that?” Dean can’t help but feel hurt. Sure it would have been awkward for a little bit, but I’d never do that to y/n.

“Not made me leave, more phase me out. It would have made all of this awkward and-“ He watches the weight settle on your shoulders as you press your forehead into the space between his collar bone and neck. “I’ve lost so many things. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Dean squeezes you to him. “You’re not going to lose me sweetheart.” He traces a fingertip under your chin to raise your face to his. “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you’re my family too. I wouldn’t make you leave just because it was a little awkward. We’ve all been through too much together for that.” Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles against your cheek.

“I love you too.” You whisper, the soft smile gracing your lips  mirrors the memory from the dream, but this time it fills him with warmth and comfort, because this time he knows it’s real.  It's not some Djinn messing with his head, it's you. You lean upwards to kiss him gently, while Dean weaves his hand through you hair to secure you to him.

But then you pull away, your smile slipping into a smirk. “So when you say family, are you saying you see me as a sister or a cousin? Because, I don’t know how things are in Kansas, but where I'm from, that's kind of a red flag.“

Dean sighs loudly. Before he rolls you over and pins you to the bed, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Oh. So as a sister-“ You joke.

“You are one of the most annoying people on the planet.”

“I know. It’s why you love me.” You trace his lips with your index finger, gazing up at him the same way the dream version of you did.

Dean feels warmth trail behind your touch. “One of the reasons at least.”

But just as he leans to kiss you again-

“If you guys don’t shut up I’m not going to get any sleep.” Sam grumbles from his bed. “I could have told you two idiots, that you loved one another and it would have taken five seconds.”

“You don’t have to eavesdrop-“ You say glaring over in the direction of Sam’s bed.

“Kinda hard not to when you guys are making out. LOUDLY. I might add.”

“Gonna have to get used to it Sammy.” Dean snorts, before pushing your hair back behind your ear and drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Next time you guys are getting your own room.” Sam continues. “That way I can get some sleep.”

“Doesn’t seem very economical.” You say, but you’re gazing up at Dean again with the smile that makes him feel like he’d swallowed the sun. “I love you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“I love you too.” Dean leans down once more to capture your lips against his, erasing all semblance of everything else, except the feel of your body beneath him and the warmth that surges with each breath as the dream of you becomes a reality.

*********************************************

Thank you so much for reading!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #sam winchester

[marinaiguess]

sonaze my beloved. sonic meeting blaze and thinking about "that strange girl". blaze hearing about some sonic all day long to the point where she starts resenting him. blaze asking cream what that sonic was like cuz she was thinking about him.

sonic meeting blaze for the second time and hesitating to fight her and trying to talk her out of it. sonic immediately checking if she's okay right after the battle meaning that he also didn't give his all to that fight in fear he might srsly hurt her. sonic understanding that she had a rough past. sonic trying to persuade her to let him help her, even mid-fight. sonic telling her to be true to herself. blaze trusting him. sonic trusting her to save cream. sonic teaching her the power of friendship, showing her how to unlock the sol emeralds' power, which she wasn't able to use until then. blaze being able to understand that her powers are a gift and not a curse, thanks to sonic.

sonic and blaze transforming to fight the eggmans. sonic and blaze stalling for time once the battle is over. sonic telling her that cream is gonna miss her, asking her if she has anything to say. blaze not saying anything cuz she's sad she has to leave them, avoiding his gaze. sonic "this is from me" moment which we will never know what meant. sonic promising to see her again even tho he knows that's almost impossible bcuz their worlds and emeralds wont allow that. sonic stretching his hand out and blaze taking it. them holding onto each other until their worlds tear them apart. sonic holding onto blaze using both hands. blaze thinking about sonic and smiling.

blaze trusting sonic with her fear of heights. sonic being impressed by her knowledge and skills. blaze saying that the emeralds brought sonic to her world for a reason. sonic not being able to finish his goodbye. shaking hands. sonic waving at her. sonic going to a world with knights and recognizing that Percival is not blaze. even tho he couldn't tell the difference for the other knights of the round table at first. sonic saving Percival and making her blush. Percival being the only one who treated sonic with respect, for lack of better term. the first one who tried to talk him out of fighting Merlina, being unable to watch him get beat up. (even if this is in Sonic's mind, he chose to think of Percival as blaze).

blaze knowing that sonic loves seaside hill. blaze visiting Sonic's world for his birthday. blaze learning to open up and trust more people and herself gradually, making more friends in the process. sonic getting giddy and excited when blaze shows up to help him. them working like a well-oiled machine. them fighting together side by side, as if they have known each other forever, even tho they haven't met that many times. sonic comforting her about her fear of heights by giving her his hand.

sonic telling her to visit them more often. sonic being excited about her using her super form. sonic losing his memory which was brought back by blaze, by her super form, which reminded him of their adventures together. of all the things they've been through. of everything he felt the first time he saw that form. blaze saying she was worried about him. sonic saying that cream misses her before she sends him to his world. sonic apologizing for having to make her fight on her vacation. sonic taking her on a date to show her his world.

it's them against the world.

#i should be asleep by now it's 4am #but. sonaze brainrot #im so sorry to everyone who will read the entire thing #this is basically every sonaze interaction ever. #the ones on the top of my head at least #sonaze #sth #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #blaze the cat #my drabbles #long post

[themetalvirus]

my magical girl au is like. this got long. readmore time

MAGIC USERS

sonic: he lives on christmas island and goes to high school and runs with bread in his mouth and goes KYAAA IM LATE! he lives in the woods and is the primary caretaker of his little brother tails. his grades are just good enough to keep him in track. he's not superhumanly fast without being transformed (i feel this may be controversial) but he's still fast

tails: flies to school in his environmentally friendly plane that he built himself (he could just walk but what's the point). does sonic's homework for him so he can stay in track. most of their house is overrun by tools and tinkerings and other tails-isms

knuckles: guardian of angel island, the master emerald, and the master ruins (the mid-season magical girl trial and subsequent level-up station). he has never entered the master ruins or used the master emerald's power out of respect. he secretly longs to be a magical boy, but he must accept he was simply not chosen... or perhaps the right time hasn't come along yet for him to be granted such power.

amy: neighborhood girl on christmas island. she's a cute, energetic middle schooler who is OBSESSED with sonic and attends every track event he's in. she has a passionate love for the environment and a sense of justice that annoys a lot of her classmates. she campaigned for a more robust recycling program, reusable utensils for school lunches, and more programs for the arts, all of which were implemented in some way or another because of her persistence.

blaze: princess from another dimension who traveled to this dimension with silver. she is all about business. she is very resistant to friendship and only works with silver out of a strange mix of obligation and pity. she seeks to set right the strange power that is leaking into and distorting her own dimension...

silver: he comes from blaze's dimension, and his future is plagued by drought. he came to the past through a strange distortion in the fabric of their dimension, partially out of desperation to save his world and absolve himself of his crushing self-imposed responsibilities.

shadow: a former magical boy who swore off magic entirely when his sister, maria, died to a monster they were fighting. is very serious about avenging her/fulfilling her wishes, and fights for the shadowy villain with only his physical strength... and several gadgets. will he ever realize that magic wasn't at fault for maria's death? is this really what maria would have wanted?

OTHER IMPORTANT CHARACTERS

eggman: shadowy villain, wants to take over the world, is the one fucking up the fabric of reality using a chaos emerald provided to him by shadow. doesn't know shadow is just waiting until eggman gathers all the chaos emeralds to destroy the world himself.

rouge: "working" for eggman as a lackey, also "working" for the government as a two-timing insider spy, wants the chaos emeralds for herself. becomes close with shadow and omega. is exactly what you would expect, she's rouge

omega: working for eggman as a murder robot. is infuriated when eggman casts him out and becomes a """hero""""". he's omega

cream: she's a kiddo on christmas island living with her mom and chao. her kindness and insistence on making sure silver and blaze have a place to stay is what melts their hearts and makes them open to true friendship, and therefore, magic.

OTHER STUFF

the chaos emeralds are the transformation items, attracted supernaturally to those they deem worthy of their power. when a magical person first transforms with an emerald, they transform into a divine accessory tuned to the wearer so the magic user can keep it close. they disappear when the magic user transforms.

sonic has dark blue, tails has yellow, knuckles has green, amy has white, silver has cyan, blaze has purple, shadow has red

the master emerald can cancel out the power of the chaos emeralds, which is why eggman wants it and why knuckles is so fierce about protecting it and its magic. it's the master emerald

#exoticbutterstxt #magical sonic

[true-blue-sonic]

what's the first sonic thought that comes to your mind right now? not necessarily espilver, just anything. i'm kinda curious

The ending of Sonic Rush, after I gave it some thought. I rewatched it for this ask, and it actually starts quite somber, which I find an interesting contrast with the altogether cheery Raisin' Me Up and its sweet, assuring lyrics. Blaze concedes she must leave because having the Chaos and Sol Emeralds in the same world will cause a crisis, and she and Sonic talk about how Cream will miss her and how Blaze finds it appropriate she leaves the way she came: as a stranger to all. Blaze's sprite is a bit closed off, with her eyes shut and a hand pressed on her hip, compared to Sonic's open-eyed look and more lax posing.

And I think Blaze really had not expected Sonic to come in and give her advice! At least, that is how I interpret the little moment where he says "Wait." with the ... afterwards and Blaze's "...!" as reaction, and Sonic saying that an unseen "that" is from him. The recollections of what Sonic apparently told Blaze that play once Blaze is in the Sol Dimension again are, if I remember correctly, not seen in the game proper. Thus, I figure his speech about how everything is fine as long as he's got the Chaos Emeralds must be spoken in that prior moment. Though I do find it strange, as Sonic's normal sprite is used instead of one of his Super Sonic ones. But I'm the fool who needed literally years to figure out that Cream gets kidnapped in the cutscene of Sonic and Blaze making up after their boss battle in Blaze's story, so what do I know, haha.

Afterwards, we get the handshake: I think it is a great showcase of everything Blaze has learned about friendship and trusting others that she is the one who both moves closer first and holds out her hand first. Interestingly, Sonic moves closer to her more quickly and shakes her hand with much more vigour than she held it out, and he's also the one who adds a second hand to hold on just a bit longer as their respective dimensions tear them apart. But Blaze seems to be the one who reaches back to him more... wanting? Yearning, maybe? As that happens, whereas Sonic's left hand actually drops down and his right hand stays outstretched basically the same way for the whole scene, compared to Blaze reaching back extra. With Sonic seeming the most confident about the two of them meeting once more ("I'll see you, again!" contrasted with Blaze's more quiet "Yes... Again..."), it might make sense that Blaze is the one who wants to stay with the two of them just a bit longer. And after that and Blaze thinking back to what Sonic told her, we get this altogether adorable sprite of her:

I consider Rush's sprite-work truly something else, I love it. This post kind of is a bit all over the place, but I think the ending of Rush is a perfect culmination of everything Blaze has learned over the course of the game. And Sonic is just an altogether sweetheart: he's supportive, he sees what is actually going on with Blaze, her past, and her powers, he understands this is why she acts the way she does, he knows she means well at heart, and he helps her learn about and embrace the love others hold for her. I wouldn't say Rush's storymode is perfect (I would argue Amy and Knuckles got the short end of the stick somewhat when it comes to their characterisations), but it's just... sweet! For me, it's truly a sweet, lift-me-up kind of game, and the ending could not showcase better Blaze's growth and Sonic's amazing personality to me.

Not entirely related to this post, but now I'm actually thinking about Sonic '06, and the similarities between Silver's and Blaze's separation there compared to Sonic's and Blaze's in Rush. Because I find it really interesting that in the former, Blaze also is the one who reaches back to the person she is leaving! It's with her left hand instead of her right, but I wonder if it means something more? Was it an intentional callback to Rush, perhaps?

#sonic rush #sonic the hedgehog #blaze the cat #this doesn't touch on the after-credits scene with Sonic talking to Cream but also that is sweet #and he was right! they did meet with Blaze again <3 #though to go back to '06‚ the circumstances and tone there could not be different #Rush speaks of hope to meet each other again whereas '06 focuses more on being forcibly separated and left alone afterwards #in both cases the world/worlds is/are saved... but Rush ends on a sweet and happy note that Sonic and Blaze will meet again #whereas Silver's world is now what he and Blaze wanted for it but he lost her in the process and they will never meet again after #long post #if none of this makes sense: I am terribly terribly ill lmao

[crusherthedoctor]

Even if the giant neon sign known as Sonic Heroes wasn’t a giveaway, Sonic being totally fine with friends and teamwork is still easy to spot across the other games.

In S3&K, after Knuckles gets Sheev’d by Eggman and starts clearing the way for Sonic, the latter doesn’t show any hesitance or doubt, despite them having just fought beforehand.

In SA2, he actually stayed put and listened to Tails’ fake emerald plan, instead of getting bored and speeding off to confront Eggman.

In ShtH, he was just as willing to let Shadow assist him as any other character in the game.

In Rush - aside from her time spent with Cream - the other main contribution to Blaze opening herself up to friends is because of Sonic convincing her of such.

In ‘06 of all games, one of Sonic’s very first scenes is Tails meeting up with him and asking to let him help. How does Sonic respond? He accepts it without question. “With your help, this’ll be a piece of cake!” He also accepts Silver’s help later on, despite Silver trying to kill him previously. Even if he should have at least asked for the details on why he tried to kill him before.

And do I need to mention Forces, AKA the game that came out less than a decade ago, AKA the game IDW initially claimed to be jumping off from?

And in general, whenever Sonic’s with a group, no matter who is part of said group, he tends to stick with them. If they get separated, it’s usually because of outside factors.

Those are definitely not the only examples. Sonic may rarely go out of his way to ask for help, but if someone offers it to him, he’s not likely to turn it down. He’s very agreeable in that regard. It makes no sense for Sonic to repeatedly learn something that he never needed to learn to begin with, least of all a Sonic that has been claimed all along to be one and the same with that of the Mr. Super Power of Teamwork we see in the games. Just because he likes to run off when the bad guy has been defeated, and explore the world and search for more adventures, doesn’t mean he takes other people’s friendship and contributions for granted.

#Opinion #Sonic the Hedgehog

[silver-ace-of-spades]

Time, Space, and Sweets: Chapter 2

Silver the Hedgehog and Blaze the Cat meet up with Amy Rose and buy flowers.

Note: In this fic, everyone's a year older (Silver and Blaze are 15, Amy's 13, etc)

~~~~~

Florist, mid afternoon:

Silver and Blaze arrived at the flower shop. It was called Hedges and Roses. It was a large store with various greenhouses for growing flowers in various conditions.

"Let's go!" Silver was excited to be surrounded by plants, but Blaze stayed outside. "Um, Blaze? Don't you want to help me pick out some flowers?" She lit her hands on fire. "Oh. Right."

Silver entered the shop and smelled the air. The flower store always smelled nice, and today was no exception. "Ahhh. Nothing beats the smell of flowers."

The employee working at the counter walked over to him. She was a pink hedgehog with green eyes. She wore a white shirt with a Piko Hammer design and blue jeans embroidered with red roses. In her shoulder-length quills was a red rose. Silver recognized her as Amy Rose.

"Silver! It's so nice to see you!" Amy exclaimed. She almost hugged him out of instinct, but stopped herself. "What brings you here?"

"I'm buying flowers for a friend." He explained.

"Who for?"

"Shadow." Silver told her. She looked at him with confusion and surprise.

"Are you sure he'll like them? He doesn't seem like the kind of person who likes flowers."

"If he doesn't like them, I'll happily keep them. I love flowers!" Silver chuckled.

"Well, all the bouquets from the Heroic Collection are on sale right now!" Amy gave him a catalog of Heroic Bouquets. Two of the bouquets caught his eye.

The first one had white acanthus, black roses, black tulips, red zinnias, yellow marigolds, and black petunias with yellow edges on each petal and red stripes in the middle. It was called Shades of the Past. It represented anger, grief, sorrow, and resentment, but also hopefulness, longevity, and mystery.

"It's perfect for him..." He gasped.

The second one had light blue irises, bunches of light gray baby's breath, white poppies, yellow roses, white acanthus, and silver edelweiss. It was called Bright Future. It represented kindness, friendship, bravery, optimism, and timeless determination.

Silver's eyes started to water. "I'm so honored to have a bouquet based on me." He wiped his tears and sniffled before speaking again. "I'd like a Silver bouquet and a Shadow bouquet, please. I'm seeing him tomorrow, so I'd like his bouquet to be made tomorrow, if that's okay."

Amy beamed in delight. "Sure thing, Silver! Your total is 50 rings. Would you like a receipt?"

"No, thanks." Silver handed the girl 50 rings plus a 20% tip.

"Sure! Normally customers aren't allowed in the back of the store, but we need to catch up, plus I want you to see the bouquet making process!" Amy exclaimed. "It'll be an hour at max. Is Blaze with you? She should watch, too!"

"Yeah. I gotta go tell her the plan."

He went outside, but he didn't see Blaze anywhere.

"Silver!" A familiar voice yelled. He turned to his right and saw Blaze walking towards him with three ice cream cones. One was lavender, one was vanilla and gray tea, and one was rose. The lavender cone had red cinnamon flavored sprinkles and a purple/fuschia cone sleeve with a blazing pattern. The vanilla/gray tea swirl cone had turquoise sprinkles of the default flavor and a gold/cyan cone sleeve with a silvery shine. The rose cone had golden default-flavor sprinkles and a red cone sleeve with a pink rose pattern.

She handed him the swirl cone and the teens licked their ice cream.

"Thanks, Blaze." He said between licks.

"I got bored of waiting." She responded.

Silver told Blaze what Amy told him: She wants to talk to the two teens and catch up.

"Plus, there's something I'd really like you to see."

Silver opened the door and they went inside. Blaze gave Amy the rose ice cream cone.

"You're too kind, Blaze!" She cheered, licking the pink drips off of the slightly melted cone. "How did you get ice creams that matched all of us?"

"Oh, it was easy, there was a Heroism lineup. There were cones based on various heroes. I got the Lavender Blaze, the Silver Swirl, and the Amy's Rose."

"Oh! Hedges and Roses has something like that, too!" Amy exclaimed. She reached for the Heroic catalog, but stopped herself. "You'll have to wait until my hands are clean."

"No you won't!" Silver remarked. He grabbed the catalog with his mind and held it so the princess could read it.

"Look on Page 3, Blaze!" Amy suggested with a wink. Silver flipped to the second and third pages and Blaze looked at the bouquets.

"Shades of the Past, Ice Cream Innocence, Tantalizing Thievery, Courage and Might, Ray of Hope, Bright Future..." Blaze read. She read the next one and gasped, nearly dropping her ice cream. "Princess of Flames... That's me..."

The Princess of Flames bouquet was a beautiful arrangement with a yellow chrysanthemum, light purple gladioli, flame tulips, lavender, light purple heather, and pink roses. It represented beauty, wisdom, strength, kindness, royalty, and a burning passion that couldn't be extinguished.

"It's... it's... beautiful. I'd like to buy one." She nearly cried.

"Is that all you'd like to order?" The pink hedgehog asked.

"Yeah. How much do I owe you?"

"25 rings. Would you like a receipt?"

"No, thanks. Here. A 20% tip." Blaze handed the girl 30 rings. They were a bit sticky from the ice cream.

"Want to see how I make bouquets?" Amy asked.

"Yeah!" Silver cheered.

"Sure." Blaze said.

The kids finished their ice cream and walked to the back of the store to the arrangement room.

#toxic electricity #time space and sweets #sonic fluff #silver the hedgehog #amy rose #blaze the cat

[goldengoddess]

fake dating with jesper fahey

request: would you be willing to do a jesper x reader fake dating for heist purposes 👀 i’m a sucker for the trope and my boy

a/n: YES oh my god my favorite trope and my favourite boy! i did it in one shot form because i think its better<3 i got a lil carried away with this one

warnings: some quick heist violence, flirty comments, nothing too intense 

“no,” you said to kaz, “absolutely not.”

he rolled his eyes and gave you a hard glare. “frankly y/n i’m not asking.”

you gripped the table tighter. you had not signed up for this. you were promised a couple of easy jobs with the dregs to get out of some trouble. a year, tops, of working under kaz brekker. that year had turned into two and now you didn’t know if you would ever leave.

but you hadn’t signed up for this.

you looked up at jesper. he twisted one of the rings on his finger and looked directly at kaz.

“you’re okay with this?” you asked him.

jesper made eyes contact with you and something in your stomach fluttered. it was unfair how breathtaking his eyes were.

“it’s just a job y/n. we get in there, talk to the mark, get our information and leave. yeah, this ones a lot messier with a lot more chance of getting caught but it’s just another job. ”

he didn’t sound too sure himself.

“except this time we’re going to have to pretend to date.” you mumbled, gathering up your things.

jesper chuckled and leaned closer to you, teasingly. “aw cmon, no need to act so disappointed i know it’s all you’ve been dreaming about since we met.”

you scoffed but felt the heat on your cheeks anyways.

kaz rolled his eyes, “save the flirting for the undercover work, yeah? y/n i’ve left you’re outfit in your room. meet outside the club at eleven bells.”

jesper followed kaz out of the room, giving you a quick wink.

oh it was going to be a long long night.

---------

you leaned against the wall of the club you and jesper would be in tonight.

you were dressed in an outfit that was too tight and too revealing and if this were any other occasion you would feel amazing in. but this wasn’t some other occasion, this was a job.

part of you wanted to pretend this was something else. that you and jesper were just two normal people who liked each other and wanted to go out on a date drinking.

but no. you and jesper were co workers who relied on the safety and money of kaz brekker. you were on a fake date, you were a fake couple.

the truth was, your feelings for jesper were anything but fake. the sharpshooter had you head over heels with one small smirk the day you met him.

but jesper’s ego didn’t need your confession of your feelings and you didn’t need a ruined friendship, so you kept your mouth shut.

but this job seemed impossible. it would be totally impossible for you to keep your cool as jesper pretended to be madly in love with you.

speak of the devil, you thought as jesper strutted towards you.

“ah love, you didn’t even give me a chance to pick you up. i’m a gentleman you have to let me show it to you” he joked and wrapped his arm around your waist.

you let out a breath and rolled your eyes, “let’s just get this over with.”

“i can see how eager you are to go out with me angel face” jesper said.

the two of you stepped into the club, the music was loud and people were pressed up against each other.

jesper led you to one of the tables close to the corner but not too far from the real action of the club.

he pulled out on chair and took a seat. you made a move to pull out another but jesper grabbed you by the arm and pulled you down onto his lap.

“gotta make it look real” he whispered into your ear.

you let out a huff and wiggled to get comfortable on his chair.

he laughed, “cmon, cant even pretend to like me? i know you do, just admit it you can’t resist this handsome face.”

you tried to laugh along, knowing he was only messing around with you.

but your heart was hammering in your chest and you could feel jesper’s breath tickling your neck.

if one of the guys in here that wanted to kill you and your team didn’t take you out tonight, a heart attack caused by jesper fahey’s beautiful scent just might.

the man you two had to talk to was standing near the bar, scanning the club. you quickly angled your body so you faced jesper more fully and started running your fingers through his hair.

“what are you doing?” he asked in an amused voice.

“he’s watching” you mumbled, “gotta make it look believable.” saints, how was his hair so nice?

jesper closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. he let out a soft hum of pleasure and you swore you would do anything to be the only one to hear that sound forever.

but before you had the chance to contemplate that, reality struck.

“he’s coming over” you warned jesper as you saw the man the two of you needed to get some information from walking towards your table. you moved your hands onto your lap and moved so your back was pressed to jesper’s chest.

jesper’s grip on your hips tightened and you tried to give him a reassuring smile, everything was going to be fine right?

“remember, you’re madly in love with me” he whispered right before the man sat down in front of the two of you.

oh how right you were jesper

“oh look what a happy couple, the two of you look great together” the man in front of you said.

you let out a giggle and leaned into jespers body, “thank you.”

“how long have the two of you been together?”

“a couple of years,” jesper answered naturally, “she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

the world felt so genuine that you felt your body sway from surprise, but you quickly regained your composure.

“what about you, any special person in your life?” you mused, trying to learn more about this man.

he shook his head, “i haven’t been so lucky as the two of you have. tell me, what is your favorite thing about your boyfriend here.”

that was not a question you were expecting, the man seemed overly interested in the two of you. your suspicion grew. but you knew you had to answer the question regardless if this was starting to feel like a set up.

you thought for a moment. but when you opened your mouth the words came naturally.

“he notices everything. i’ll be having a slightly bad day, maybe the weather is bad or i slept in too late, and i’ll only be slightly moody and he’ll notice. and he notices the things i like too. he learned my favorite ice cream flavor just based on the way my gaze lingered in an ice cream parlor. he knows everything about you before you know it yourself.”

you should stop. you should stop right now.

“and he’s reliable. yeah he may be late for a meeting or wander off during an important moment but if you need him, he’s there. he’s a constant presence in my life, i couldn’t imagine working without him by my side. jesper is the best thing in my life too.”

you realized your mistake too late. yeah you’d basically gushed about the boy you loved to a total stranger and probably made it painfully obvious to jesper that you loved him but you’d also used his real name. his real name. rookie move.

“jesper? why does that name sound familiar to me?” the man asked.

before you could even register what was going on, the room was filled with the sound of gun shots and you and jesper were on the ground.

you two sprung into motion, jesper with his guns blazing as you knocked out any armed person in your vicinity.

during a good moment jesper grabbed your wrist and the two of you ran out the club down the streets. but you could hear a group of men chasing you, hot on your tail.

you cursed under your breath, why saints why?

jesper pulled you into an ally and pressed you against the wall, making the ‘sh’ motion with his fingers.

if this were any other moment and you two were any other person, you’d enjoy the particular position you found yourself in. but you reminded yourself that you were being chased by criminals that might notice two figures hanging out in an ally.

you looked at jesper and he was finally looking at you. he gave you a sad smile, “i’m sorry for what i’m about to do in advance and i’m sorry this is the way i do it for the first time.”

and suddenly jesper’s lips were on yours and you were kissing jesper fahey. jesper fahey.

you only slightly registered the men chasing you run past the alleyway without a second glance.

one of you pulled away first and you stood there trying to catch your breath.

“um great quick thinking” you said. he had kissed you because he knew no one would question two kids kissing in the dark against a wall.

he let out a little laugh but he was just as flustered as you, “best thinking i’ve ever had.”

it was silent for a second, the night air felt suffocating and consuming and you couldn’t wait to be back at the slat in your own bed.

“did you mean what you said in there?” he asked you.

“did you?” you whispered back, as you looked at him through your eyelashes.

“i did”

“then i did too”

he pressed himself closer to you and brushed his lips against yours, “good. then when this is all over remind me to take you out on a date.”

did he just

date ?!

jesper stepped away from you and checked the main road before he grabbed your hand and pulled you the direction of the crow club.

“you coming angel face?”

you grinned and then burst into a sprint right alongside jesper.

#jesper fahey hc #jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #jesper x wylan #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #six of crows #grishaverse #nina zenik #inej gahfa #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows imagine #wylan van eck #grisha #leigh bardugo #matthias helvar

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 20, Story #2 is by @floreatcastellumposts

Title: Dittany Author/Artist: FloreatCastellum Pairing: Neville/Hannah Prompt: Bravery Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Discussion of maternal death, mentions of violence. 

Hannah's mother had been a muggleborn, and that had been her death sentence. 

Or rather, she had been a muggleborn with the audacity and bravery to be proud about it. 

Most muggleborns ended up slipping entirely into wizarding society, and as much as they might say that they would keep in touch with their roots, the magic took over. Jeans became robes, electronics didn’t work in their homes so their pop culture references grew stale, the effort involved in keeping the statute of secrecy for extended family and old friends was too exhausting to sustain, so they saw them less and less and eventually… 

This had not happened for Mum, even though the Abbotts were a very old family, well rooted in the magical community. She had agreed with Dad to live in Godric’s Hollow, because the Abbotts had lived there for many generations, but she had insisted on Hannah attending the local primary school, where she could make muggle friends. She was adamant that they make regular trips to Liverpool, to visit her side of the family, who believed that she worked in HR (which she did, but for a potion manufacturer, not for a haulage company as they believed) and that Hannah had received a scholarship to an exclusive boarding school, and that Dad owned a pub (which he did, but they neglected to mention that it was frequented by witches, wizards, goblins, the occasional hag and a half giant). And when the Stephens side of the family came to visit, they would have a flurry of activity where they would hide away anything magical-looking, and from the loft they would bring down the big television, and they would speed read some muggle newspapers so they could give their opinions on Tony Blair or Men Behaving Badly or Charles and Diana’s divorce or whatever else they thought might come up.  

That was life as Hannah knew it, and it never felt complicated or brave or shocking or daring or any of the things she later found out it was. 

She remembered certain details from the day very clearly. She’d been easing sneezewort plants out of their pots, the last repotting before winter, her fingers shaking at the long, pale roots, creating a rain of soil. The last of the cream coloured petals, curled and brown at the edges, fell onto the potting bench. There was a sudden shock of cold air, a breeze from the door opening that hit their faces and whipped through their hair.  

‘Professor Dumbledore’s here,’ said Susan with surprise, and Hannah had glanced up to see him closing the door to the humid greenhouse, his long white beard tucked into his belt, Professor Sprout hurrying over to him. 

Hannah looked back down at her plant. The roots were all tangled together. Professor Dumbledore was probably here for Harry Potter, there were all sorts of rumours flying around about secret meetings between the two of them. 

The plant needed a much bigger pot, but the roots were strong, there was no rot there. 

‘Hannah.’ 

There was no hiding the bewilderment on her face. She had never had a direct conversation with the Headmaster before, and here he was, speaking kindly, gently, softly, one hand touching her shoulder and the other, black looking, gesturing to the door. 

‘I need to-’ she started saying, as he led her out. Everyone was staring. 

‘Don’t worry, dear,’ said Professor Sprout, and her voice sounded so strange, ‘I’ll finish up here for you.’ 

Perhaps part of her had known then. She knew it was something terrible. She was too afraid to ask. No one was ever pulled out of class for a good reason. She walked up to the castle alongside him as though in a dream, her heart beating up through her throat and into her mouth.

She was not sure how it happened, but suddenly she was in the warmth of his office, staring at Professor Dumbledore’s grave face, his lips moving, without really hearing, except for that first, terrible, world destroying little phrase. 

‘I’m so very sorry to tell you that your mother has been found dead.’ 

There would be no worse event, no greater loss, no stronger pain in her entire life. 

There was still dirt under her nails and in the creases of her palms, she noticed, as she reached into the silver box of floo powder. 

It had been so long since she had seen Godric’s Hollow like this, golden and red in its autumn. Fallen leaves tumbled and floated down the river that rushed through the village, or collected in the gutters along the cobbled roads, damp and heavy. The sun stayed a little lower each day, casting long shadows across the beer garden of The Lost Owl, and the wind ruffled the sign on the door which read ‘Closed due to family bereavement.’ 

During the days, she wondered what to do with herself, stuck between boredom and terrible, overwhelming grief. When she could cry no more, she wondered if there was something wrong with her for wanting to find something interesting or fun to do, but when she tried to read, she could not focus. When she tried to listen to the radio, she would fall asleep. She could not bring herself to ask her weeping father to play cards or chess or anything with her. She thought of going back into school, but how could she see other people? Now that the world had ended? She wanted to tell people about it, wanted to say the words enough until they made sense to her, or until someone found the right words to say back that would make it OK, but she did not want to do this to her friends. 

At nights, she would cry herself to sleep, and her whispers, please come back please Mummy please come back, would grow and grow and grow into sobs, begging into her pillow as the agony of it tore at her, the desperation, the feverish thought that there had to be something, that this couldn’t be it, there had to be a way, a special way, just for them, just for her, because it was her mother and there was no way she could live without her. Mum wouldn’t leave her like this, there was no way Mum would allow it, she would go to the ends of the earth to make sure that Hannah was happy, she had always said so, she had always promised… 

But Death was something parents could not protect their children from, it seemed. The more Hannah thought on it, the more she became crushingly devastated, horrified to realise that each and every human on Earth had to endure this at some point. In different ways, at different times, with different feelings, but the mere act of bringing a child into the world was to condemn that child, one day, to the unbearable pain of loss. Every person she passed, she wondered, have you suffered as I have? Or is it yet to come for you? She wished she could spare them from it.

The aurors said she was probably targeted because she loudly and openly discussed her muggle heritage in the pub, and it must have been heard by the wrong people. That was what passed for bravery these days. 

In the church of St Jerome, the stained glass window pattered with rain, and Hannah looked up at the colours of red and yellow and green rather than looking at the coffin with the splay of lilies, and she wondered when this nightmare would end, when Mum would come back, and tell her that everything would be all right. 

***

Months passed in unbearable agony, worse than she could have imagined. But there were glimmers of light there too. 

Here, at the school she thought she would never return to, in the place that was filled with unimaginable horror and oppression, she had purpose again. More purpose, in fact, than she had ever had in her life. And with it, new friendships that ran deeper than she had ever expected. 

‘This way,’ Neville whispered, and they ran low across the lawn of the grounds. Some of the windows in the castle behind them blazed with light, so that she thought for a terrible moment that they must be visible from the Great Hall, but, of course, the windows would be black with night to anyone who looked out from them. 

It was the summer term now, but the air was still cold as they panted, as though Dementors were close, which, she reasoned, they might be. She could feel the dew of the grass, left to grow long since Hagrid had left, soaking the bottoms of her jeans, seeping through her ratty trainers. 

Following the dark shadow of Neville’s figure, she ran through the grounds until she heard the crunch of gravel underfoot, and, ahead, the slight shine of starlight reflecting off the greenhouses. 

‘They’re in greenhouse three,’ Neville muttered, and her stomach dropped. 

He did not notice, and continued to hurry along the garden path, past the raised beds for the hardier plants and herbs, and she followed, but at a walk now, dread gnawing at her. 

He stopped at the door, holding his hands up to the glass to peer in. ‘OK…’ he said, still breathless from the run. ‘OK, looks clear… Now, while I talk to the venomous tentacula, you grab a tray, and fill it with perlite and only a few handfuls of compost, it’s a mountain plant so it likes it nice and rocky.’ 

‘OK,’ she said, and though she thought she sounded normal, he turned to her. She could barely make out his expression in the darkness. 

‘Are you all right?’ 

‘I… I’m sorry, I just… I haven’t been in the greenhouses for a long time… especially not this one. I should have thought before I volunteered, I'm sorry.’ 

She felt immediately embarrassed for blurting it out, and she had no idea if Neville would even grasp what she was getting at. He had been in the class, yes, but did he even remember that day? What had been the worst day of her life had been a perfectly ordinary school day for the rest of her classmates, and so many terrible things had happened since then. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I can’t leave you out here.’ 

She thought he was telling her off, or saying that they had to go back, but before she had the time to feel hurt or ashamed, he was holding out his hand towards her. 

She swallowed, and then placed her trembling hand in his. She was not unaccustomed to physical touch with him, or many others. Over the past year, she had tended wounds and comforted people as they cried, she had grasped hands and arms and knees under desks to soothe people or tell them to control themselves, she had passed secret notes and morsels of food and whatever else needed smuggling, slipping it nimbly from her fingers into their palms as they passed in the corridors.  

But now his fingers pressed firm and reassuring against hers, and there was something very different about them holding hands. 

She let him lead her into the greenhouse; the humid, warm air surrounded them at once, like an odd sort of hug that sat heavy on their lungs. Tall, leafy plants towered above them, brushing the domed glass high above their heads, which magically reflected the brilliant stars above them and lit the place in glorious silver. 

Now that she was in here, she felt a little better. The dread that had stopped her ever returning here, that had caused her to drop herbology and pretend that this part of the castle no longer existed, had not come to pass. It was, after all, simply a greenhouse, and Mum could not die again. 

‘Are you all right?’ he said gently. 

‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Thank you.’ 

He nodded, and reached for some gloves on a nearby bench. She missed his hand around hers. ‘Let’s move quickly, and get you out of here,’ he said, donning some goggles and a thick leather apron.  

She went to the potting tables where Professor Sprout always stood, and seized a large seedling tray. As she took handfuls of compost and perlite, she could see Neville wrestling with the venomous tentacular, saying, ‘I’ll bring you doxy granules tomorrow - I’ll move you to a sunnier spot - I already checked with Professor Sprout - come on, you knew this was part of the deal, we agreed-’

Eventually, when he had tied enough of the writhing vines together with garden twine and stroked the shoots into calmness, he gave a nod to Hannah, and started to remove his protective gear as she hurried over and they squeezed behind the plant

There, on a table surrounded by blue lanterns to make up for the blocked light caused by the tentacula, were long, deep pots, stuffed with dittany. Their slender, arching stems were clustered with pleasant green leaves, with a dusty sort of whiteness, and they were dotted with pink flowers. She had never seen the plant as it was before; she had only ever remembered the little vials of dittany kept in their first aid kit, good for scraped knees and cuts from any broken glass in the pub. Mum had always said it was good to be prepared in an emergency, it had been one of her funny little things like that, along with being a bit of a hypochondriac, and so Hannah had had a vial in the bottom of her trunk when she returned to school. That, combined with her good potions knowledge, had helped her stumble into a kind of mothering role that she found had rather suited her. 

‘I just need the flowers, the book says,’ she said, as Neville started gently pulling some up by the roots. 

‘Yes, but I think it’d be good if I can grow another set somewhere, as a back up so we don’t have to keep sneaking out here. It’s just me and Seamus in the dorm, I don’t think he’d mind if I put them in the window between Harry and Ron’s beds. Here, take these, cut the flowers where the stem splits off - yeah, there - so it’ll grow back.’ 

‘It’s really pretty,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t expecting it to be so pretty. It’s usually that the most useful plants are the ugliest.’ 

‘It is,’ said Neville absent-mindedly. ‘It’s from Crete. The healing properties were only discovered in the 17th century - people used to think it was an aphrodisiac, and it’s still used in some love potions.’ 

She looked at him, and though the light in the greenhouse was white starlight only, she could still see his cheeks burn red. 

‘It’s… it’s not, though,’ he mumbled. ‘Well… a little bit, but I… I don’t know why I said that.’

‘Because it’s interesting,’ she said quickly, as he busied himself repotting the seedlings. He nodded rapidly, and cleared his throat a little, and she cast around for something to say. ‘You… you should be careful, growing these in the dorm. If you’re caught-’

‘There’s no rule against growing plants,’ he said. ‘I’ve had plants up there loads of times. Especially my mimbulus mimbletonia, that’s had pride of place for a while.’

‘You know they don’t need an explicit rule,’ she said quietly. ‘They do what they want. If they think you’re… doing anything good, anything kind. That’s enough.’ 

He nodded, looking down at the delicate, thin roots of the dittany. There was a reason that he and Professor Sprout were growing such an innocent plant in such secrecy. ‘I know… but… it’s worth the risk.’ 

‘That’s very brave.’ 

‘Is it? Just growing a plant? Is that what passes for bravery these days?’ 

‘Yes,’ she said honestly. ‘Anything good does now. And it’s not just that.’ She paused, still cradling one of the delicate, rose pink flowers in her hand. ‘I mean… what were you thinking in muggle studies the other day? I hated seeing you screaming like that.’ 

‘Well I had to say something. It was repulsive, what she was saying about muggle children.’ 

‘No one believes her, no one really thinks-’

‘We don’t know that. Maybe some people might start believing her, because it’s easier. And anyway, it’s not just about that. Remember Umbridge?’ 

‘I try not to,’ she said dryly, and in the pale, washed out starlight she saw him grin. 

‘I know it’s stupid, but as Ginny and Luna haven’t come back, and Harry and Ron aren’t here, or Dean, or loads of other people… I’ve been-’ he sighed, as though frustrated he couldn’t find the words, ‘I’ve been trying to think about what they would do. I can’t afford to be Neville Longbottom, I’ve got to be someone braver. And Harry used to just completely go off on her, used to tell her straight in lessons that You-Know-Who was back, and, yeah, it got him more trouble than it felt like it was worth at the time, but you know what? I always found it really inspiring.’ 

‘I did too,’ she said quietly. ‘I remember thinking… well… why would he stick to a lie through all that?’ 

‘Exactly. He had principles, and if he was here he wouldn’t stand for any of that rot. There’s a lot of times over the past few months where I’ve just tried to…’ he shrugged helplessly, ‘pretend that I’m Harry. That I’m brave.’ 

‘I don’t think you’re pretending at all,’ she said. ‘You are brave. You always have been. You’re a Gryffindor, aren’t you?’ 

‘Somehow.’ 

‘No somehow about it. You’re the bravest man I know, and that includes Harry.’ 

‘How on earth does it include Harry?’ he asked, and he sounded like he was on the verge of laughter. 

‘Because he’s had to be,’ she said. ‘I’ve grown up in Godric’s Hollow, you know, I’ve seen the ruined house that he lived in. He’s had to be brave all the way from when he was a baby. But I didn’t. You didn’t. You’ve chosen to be brave, you’ve chosen to channel him. You're a pureblood, you could choose, every day, to keep your head down and get on with things, but you don't. You stand up and call her a bigoted liar in class and get tortured and you never back down. I find that more inspiring than anything.’ 

‘That’s very kind of you,’ he said quietly.  

‘And you were brave lots of times even before. Don’t you remember winning those points all the way back in first year?’ 

He beamed, and looked at her directly, for the first time since he had blurted out that dittany was an aphrodisiac. ‘You remember that?’ 

‘Of course I do. Dumbledore pointing out about standing up to your friends - he was so right, that does take a lot of bravery. I tried to do it next year, when Ernie was telling me that Harry was the heir of Slytherin. I’m sorry to say that I wasn’t as brave as you, but at least I tried, I suppose.’ 

‘I think you’re very brave too,’ he said. ‘Looking after everyone like this, handing out essence of dittany, running out here with me to get more… I’m sorry that you’ve had to come back in here. I didn’t think.’ 

‘I didn’t either,’ she said, and she started cutting more flowers. ‘I was just so focused on the idea of more, I didn’t really think about where I’d be getting it from… But, you know, I’m OK, actually. The thought of it was worse than the reality. It’s just a greenhouse.’ She looked around. The white starlight bleached the dark greenery into shades of silver, bounced off the watering cans, sparkled in the droplets of water from the sprinklers. ‘A very beautiful one.’ 

‘I like to think so,’ he said, a little hoarsely. ‘I always found this whole place beautiful, but now it… sometimes feels like only the greenhouses still are. They’re the only place I haven’t seen people being tortured.’ 

She paused. ‘I’m secretly thankful my mum isn’t alive to see this. Is that awful? I’m just glad she never had to worry about me being here. I feel bad enough for Dad.’ 

‘It’s not awful,’ said Neville. ‘I know what you mean.’ 

‘Do you?’ 

‘My parents don’t know anything about what’s going on, and for the first time in my life, I’m glad,’ he said, and for some reason his words seemed to surprise him. 

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, and without thinking she put down the little secateurs and touched his arm. He breathed deeply, not quite meeting her eyes, pressing down one of the seedlings quite firmly into the tray, before finally turning to her.

‘I live with my gran, because… my…’ He took another deep breath, and suddenly there was a clanging from outside. 

They froze, and heard a low voice swearing. 'Bloody wheelbarrow…' 

Hearts thudding, they ducked down and stayed silent, Neville silently mouthing for Hannah to get onto the large empty shelf under the potting table, where bags of compost were usually kept. He reached up, fumbling for the secateurs, and then started crawling along on his belly. 

'What are you doing?' she whispered, horrified. Alecto Carrow was opening the door to the greenhouse, still muttering and swearing about the wheelbarrow he had tripped over. 

He put a finger to his lips, and then pointed at the venomous tentacula, which had begun to writhe against the twine. The snip snip snip of the secateurs seemed unreasonably loud, but from the other side of the greenhouse Carrow did not appear to hear them, rifling noisily through the plants and shrubs, sending terracotta pots crashing to the floor. 

'Anyone in here?' he demanded. 'I saw your footprints in the gravel. Hello?' 

The vines of the tentacula waved threateningly, and Hannah watched with trembling fear as one of them reached out to Neville, still prone on the ground, and started to wrap itself around his throat. 

'Don't be cheeky,' she heard him mutter to it, and he calmly prodded it with the secateurs until it released him. 

It kept one tendril around his ankle, but Neville seemed to allow it as a compromise, and instead watched through the vines as Carrow upturned a table, still shouting and swearing. 

After several, agonisingly long minutes, Carrow came close to them. The venomous tentacula silently released Neville’s ankle, and raised it's spiked tendrils. 

'OW! Son of a bludger-' 

A long line of expletives followed, and the venomous tentacular shook noisily, whip-like noises echoing through the greenhouse as it reached after Carrow, now bolting from the room. 

'Grab the tray,' Neville told Hannah. 'He'll be heading straight to the hospital wing, we should have a clear path back. Quickly, before the tentacula gets over-excited and turns on us-' 

She did so at once and he held back the spiked vines as she squeezed past the plant, and hurried safely out of range. 

She stood there, holding her tray of little dittany plants and the heads of the flowers. She watched as Neville easily unentangled himself from the tentacula, patted it, said, 'thanks mate,' and grabbed a clear cover for the tray. He came close to her as he fitted it over the dittany, protecting them from the cold night air they would have to hurry back through.  

His face was inches from her own, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat a little as she looked up at him. There was a slight clunk as the lid of the tray found its place. For a moment, they were perfectly still, just their breathing in that humid place, and his eyes, shining light blue in the pale light, lifted from the tray of dittany to meet her own. 

'Do you really think I'm brave?' he whispered. 

She nodded, and he seemed to be steeling himself for something. Please, she thought, please make this place good for me again. Her hands gripped the edges of the tray.

Very gently, very slowly, he leaned closer over the tray. His hand moved as though to softly move her face to meet his, but he didn't need to, for she was already naturally tilting her head, and her heels were lifting a little off the ground without her bidding them to. 

Their lips met, soft like the petals of the dittany between them, sweet like the fragrance. His fingertips were trembling slightly as they caressed against her cheek, but then they calmed as the kiss deepened. 

The tray pressed into them as he tried to move closer, and it reminded them where they were. They broke apart, panting and gasping as though they had just finished the run down from the castle. 

She had never kissed anyone before. She was glad, unbelievably, overwhelmingly, joyfully glad, that her first kiss had been with Neville, in this place where the warm air was scented with damp soil and sweet flowers. 

'We… we should take these back,' he said, his voice slightly hoarse. ‘Let - let me take them.’ 

He took the tray from her, and in her happy daze she allowed it, and let him lead the way out of the greenhouse. Joy had returned to her again, beneath the fogged glass, amongst the green plants, bursting with life. 

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #neville x hannah #tw: maternal death #tw: mentions of violence

[babyflossy]

long overdue | l.dh

pairing: haechan x reader

requested: yes! sorry this took so long :(

summary: when you move back home after a few years apart, haechan starts to see you in a different light, and eventually the tension between you overpowers your worries about ruining your friendship.

genre/warnings: bestfriend to lovers au, smut (dirty talk, slight overstim if you squint?), fluff

word count: 4k

since your first day of elementary school, donghyuck had been your best friend. on that very first day, he had shared his animal crackers with you on the playground bench when you'd dropped yours, and you'd been inseparable ever since. even when your parents moved you away for the majority of middle school, you talked over the phone, you'd even sent each other handwritten letters through the post until donghyuck got his first phone.

the summer before high school started, your parents decided it was best to move back, and suddenly things were different between you and donghyuck. for one, he'd adopted haechan as a nickname, which you couldn't deny suited him more than you'd ever admit, but those four years had seen a lot of changes in the both of you. changes you couldn't ignore.

that stupid smirk he was always wearing was one. the growth-spurt and the jawline and the attractive shape of his shoulders had just been the things you noticed first, let alone the flirty humour he was so comfortable with. nevertheless, the two of you fell back into your old best-friend ways since elementary school; ice cream on fridays, although now they were at two in the morning instead of the afternoon, burgers at the diner on wednesdays because wednesdays are the worst day of the week.

these thoughts cross your mind once again as the boy in question slides into the chair opposite you in the cafeteria, pushing a tray towards you. "they had fries," is the only thing he says to you before he turns to jaemin and starts talking quietly about how they're going to cheat on their chemistry test. you murmur a thank you, picking a few up and stuffing them into your mouth as you continue your conversation with mark, your replacement whilst you were gone, as hyuck had so elegantly put it.

"are you coming to lucas' party tonight?" he asks, stealing some of the fries in front of you before you can swat his hand away. opposite you, haechan has blocked jaemin's voice out of his head so he can hear your answer, hating the way his heart skips a beat in anticipation. these parties were nothing new, you went to almost every single one, but haechan never got used to the clothes you wore, so much more revealing than the ones you to school. it was undeniable in those moments the way his cheeks flushed at the sight of you.

when he had first noticed these thoughts about you, he had been terrified. you were his childhood friend, how could he think of you as anything more than that? surely it would break the two of you apart if he so much as mentioned it to you? over the years since you moved back, however, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable state of flirtatiousness. he would say something suggestive and you would simply laugh and retort with a quip equally as witty. it was second nature, now; the longing glances, the way your hands brushed together when you walked side by side, the way his heart fluttered whenever you stole his hoodies, but only the ones that still smelt of him. your voice brings him back to the present.

"as if i would miss a party," you laugh, and the sound seems brighter every time to haechan, "are you driving everyone?" when mark shakes his head you raise your eyebrows in question and he nods to jeno, the dedicated sober friend for this week. the one good thing about not having your driver's license is that you were never denoted to that role.

as the school day comes to a close you meet haechan outside the back entrance, ready to walk home. the proximity of your houses meant it was always convenient for you both to walk home together, and it made haechan feel better to see you get home safe, he would never tell you that, though. he stands to the side of the crowd streaming out the door and waves you over when he spots your head in the sea of pupils. you shoot him a sunny smile that has his heartbeat pumping in his eardrums.

"you ready, princess?" the familiar smirk is present and you roll your eyes at the nickname, not allowing him the satisfaction of knowing how much it affected you, "you going home after tonight?" he asks as you break out the school car park and onto the pavement, steps falling into rhythm.

"i'm not sure yet, i doubt i'll be able to sneak back in," you scrunch your nose in contemplation, weighing up your options, "i'll probably tell my parents i'm staying at yeri's or something."

you miss the frown that settles on his face, "and stay at lucas'? alone?" haechan tries not to show how much he doesn't like that idea. lucas was a good person, he knows, but he would worry about you no matter who's house you would stay at. it was just part of your relationship at this point.

"yeah?" you stare at him in confusion, oblivious to the way his eyes flicker away when you try to meet his gaze. "what, you want me to come and sleep with you?" as soon as the words left your mouth you realised the second meaning to them and tried to ignore how your face blazed. it was your turn to avoid his eyes as you tried to pretend you had meant that word choice.

"if that's what you want, babygirl," a wink punctuates his words and heat spreads through you. you roll your eyes at him again.

jeno had, as promised, come to collect you from your house, laughing as you ran through your garden to avoid being spotted by your parents. jeno's car is smaller than mark's, all the seats already taken, but before you can ask where you're supposed to sit he presses on the accelerator. hands come to brace you as you nearly fall and your placed onto someone's lap. you can tell it's haechan from the expensive cologne that overwhelms your senses, the warm hands on your waist maintaining their position even after jeno's driving at a normal speed again.

the drive to lucas' house is short but bumpy and you grasp the seat in front of you to stop the jostling. when the car speeds over a bump haechan's fingers dig into your sides, his forehead falling onto your shoulder. you try and turn around to face him but his hands dig in further, stopping you from moving anymore. just as you're about to ask him what's wrong you feel a hardness pressing against the inside of your thigh and your eyes widen.

the flirty jokes you always exchanged meant something, you knew, but the feeling of him underneath you makes you heat up. you're frozen for a moment before a wave of smugness washes through you. haechan was always the one to make you flustered, and to know you had the same effect on him was something you wouldn't forget.

when the car finally stops in front of lucas' house, the others pile out before you two and you face him, raising your eyebrows. you open your mouth to tease him but he beats you to it, "fuck off." is all he says before he stalks towards the front door. you have to jog to keep up with him.

"really? in the car?" haehan rolls his eyes but the blush on his cheeks and the darkness in his eyes is obvious.

"if you weren't wiggling your ass, this wouldn't have happened–"

"i was not wiggling my ass, it's not my fault you're just needy," he stops walking at your words and spins around to face you, eyes narrowed in a look you assume is supposed to be intimidating. it's kinda hot, though, you think.

"i am not needy!" the laugh you let out only seems to upset him further and he takes a step towards you, "i can show you what needy is–"

"are you guys coming or what?" jaemin shouts from the doorway and haechan’s eyes flicker away from you to glare at him. before you can get another word out he’s walking as fast as he can away from you, shoulders squared of defensively. you can hear the pounding music from the house and you decided to forget about his attitude for the night and have as much fun as you can.

five drinks in and haechan is the last thing on your mind. the harsh liquid had burned at first but as lucas offers you a sixth you don't feel it slip down your throat. he grins and you match it, head spinning and vision blurring, the bassline of the music pounding in your ears. lucas has always been a great host, and he laughs at the way stumble from the kitchen counter he sits on. litres upon litres of free alcohol fills the table in front of you and you reach for a colourful blue bottle that fizzes when you twist the top off. he passes you a red plastic cup and the drink spills over the sides as you try and pour it, lucas' laugh piercing through your head which starts throbbing with the beginnings of a headache.

as if he can sense the state you're in, jeno appears in your line of sight, head shaking disapprovingly. you put up a fight when he takes the cup out of your hand and tips it down the sink but give up quickly when jeno shoots you a stern stare. lucas has already slinked off back to his living room where the rest of the guests reside, hands waving at people as a pretty brunette pulls him to the corner of the room. "you're already drunk, y/n."

"no i'm not," you insist but you can hear the way they slur together. the sound of them is foreign to your ears and they make you giggle, the sixth shot you had taken moments before starting to take effect. when you try and walk towards the drink's table your knees buckle under you and jeno has to catch you to stop you falling to the floor.

"this is why i hate being the sober friend," he mumbles as he sets you down on the floor to prevent you from hurting yourself, pulling your hands away when they reach to pull on his hair, muttering about his hair colour.

"now that, i whole-heartedly agree with," the new voice belongs to johnny, who frowns in amusement at the position you're in, giggling hysterically at jeno's hair. "hyuck's in a similar shape, we just put him upstairs in the spare room."

"can you help me take her up? she can't walk properly." their conversation falls on deaf ears to you and you're staring at everything in the kitchen and yet nothing at all as they both take one of your arms, hoisting you into an upright position. standing up, you last all but five seconds on your own before you put all your weight into them and allow yourself to be carried up the stairs.

true to johnny's word, haechan is sat on the edge of the bed, head between his knees whilst jaehyun crouches to talk to him, rubbing his back with a sympathetic smile on his face.

you call out when you see him, "haechannie!" and his head shoots up at the sound of your voice, all the darkness of his eyes from earlier dissipated.

"y/n!" johnny and jeno place you carefully on the bed next to him and meet jaehyun by the door to watch you. haechan's arm is already around your shoulder, your head planted on his shoulder, unclear if you're passed out already or not.

"where are they staying?" jaehyun asks, eyes not leaving the pair in front of him, grimacing when you bump heads with each other.

"i think here?"

"you really wanna leave them alone like this?" johnny questions as he watches you press kisses to the side of haechan's neck, turning to face him.

jeno considers his options for a moment. leave the two of you alone drunk and clearly ready to omit any rational thoughts, or stay here and try to keep you off each other. or, he supposes, he could bribe someone else to do it for him. yes, that's what he'll do. he'll find jaemin.

once the others leave and you're left alone, hands are immediately on your waist, pulling you into a kiss. haechan rubs his thumbs into the exposed skin of your middle, pressing his lips to yours in such a desperate manner you can do nothing but sit and kiss back. the hands pull you onto his lap and you waste no time threading your fingers into his hair, deepening the kiss, subconsciously grinding your hips down onto him.

"i've wanted to do this for ages," he moans into your neck, fingers hastily skimming over your skin, trying to touch you everywhere at once.

"i told you you were needy," the reminder does nothing to halt his actions, accepting your words with nothing but a hum, hands now making their way up your shirt to the clasp of your bra.

just as he's battling with the article of clothing, the door shoots open again and you fall off his lap and onto the matress. jaemin walks in, snickering at nothing and plops himself in between you on the bed, head falling onto haechan's shoulder.

"hi guys!" the tone of his voice gives away just how much he's drunk already, and you eye haechan over jaemin's mop of blue hair, pouting in disappointment.

a pounding head greets you in the morning and even though you and haechan both remember what had happened the night before, neither of you can stop blushing for long enough to bring it up. so you don't, the fear of ruining your friendship too great a risk for you.

it's a hot summer day and you meet haechan and jeno along with jaemin and renjun at the ice cream shop near your house. it's a brightly decorated new place that offers a mammoth selection of different toppings, which is partly the reason you get bullied when you choose an ice lolly instead. in your defense, it was boiling outside and ice cream is dehydrating.

haechan is cursing every god he knows of as you sit opposite him in the booth, lips wrapped so prettily around your ice lolly. he blinks harshly when you lick the side to stop the juice dripping onto your hand, still talking to renjun. in front of him sits the tub of ice cream he previously been so excited to try and yet now he can't seem to eat it, thoughts elsewhere.

in his head, he curses himself for thinking like this, for thinking about how amazing your lips would feel wrapped around his–

"dude are you okay? you're staring at your ice cream like it holds the secrets to the universe." jeno's laugh cuts through his mind and his cheeks burn. he nods wordlessly, searching for something, anything, else to think of, instead of the blood rushing straight to his dick.

later that same day, when he's back in his bedroom alone, you're the only thought that crosses his mind. he thinks about that night at lucas' party, how you had both been so ready to forget anything holding you back, he thinks about the car ride there, how cocky you had been when he got hard from you sitting on his lap. it was clear you felt the same way, at least, he hoped you did.

in your own bedroom, you're having a similar crisis to your best friend. it hadn't been easy to ignore to way he was staring at you earlier, you had even exaggerated your eating just to tease him. you wondered if he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. maybe you should ask. no, that was too risky. you needed something less obvious.

"you wanna come over to watch that new movie? i'm bored."

haehcan reads the words over and over again, trying to decipher any ulterior motives you might have, yet again that may just be him wishing for some. he takes a moment to reply, choosing his response carefully, even though he knew immediately he would be saying yes.

"sure, when?"

"tonight?"

once you had confirmed a meeting time, haechan had but two hours to compose himself. he didn't know what to expect, after all, you could have invited him over simply to watch the movie, however much he hoped that was only a cover. a cover for an empty apartment, and some suppressed desires.

when you open your front door, you're already worked up enough. it takes all the self restraint in you to not pounce on the boy in front of as soon as he steps into your hallway. he seems to be having a similar internal debate and you feel the air shift as he drops his bag next to your door, stepping towards you.

neither of you want to make the first move, the tension growing until you can’t stand in anymore, reaching towards him, knotting your fingers behind his neck and pulling him down to you. he closes the gap between you, lips smashing against yours in such desperation you would tease him if you didn’t feel the same way.

“where?” he mumbles against your lips, hands gripping up and down your sides.

“bedroom.” is all you reply before he wraps his arms around your waist, shuffling the both of you into your bedroom and shutting the door with his foot. he pushes you onto the bed and you let yourself fall, hair splaying out underneath you in a way he likes maybe too much.

his body follows yours and he slots between your legs perfectly, hands reclaiming their grip on your middle, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. wherever his fingers slide over, goosebumps rise in their wake, sending shivers through you at their coldness.

your lips return to his and you tilt his head up to deepen the kiss, only breaking away to press open-mouthed kisses to the space under his ear, relishing in the way his breathing hitches in his throat. the kisses trail down his neck to his collarbone, biting down before sucking the area into your mouth. haechan lets out a sinful moan that goes straight to your core.

as soon as you pull you lips away from his body he pulls your shirt over your head, cursing at the lack of underwear, gaze locking in on the swell of your breasts, nipples hard in the cold air. “you had such a hard time taking it off last time,” you reason into his ear, pulling the lobe into your mouth and pulling before continuing, “i thought i would save you the trouble.”

“fuck, baby, you’re so hot,” his words are silenced by the moan you let out when his fingers come to toy with your nipples, rolling one between his digits. you can’t help but arch into him, legs closing around the thigh spreading them apart. it’s clear you’re already so turned on that haechan almost pities you as you grind against his thigh. “so hot, and needy it seems.”

“haechan,” you moan, hands coming to tug on his own shirt, pulling the material over his head and throwing it somewhere else in the room. “i need you so bad.”

“i know, baby,” he cooes, dropping his mouth to envelope your nipple in between his lips, “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry, princess.” the filthful nature of his words make your body heat up, the coldness of fingers now toying with the waistline of your shorts so much more noticeable.

the shorts are removed quickly, your panties following quickly. before you can process what he’s doing, his fingers are spreading your lips apart, lips blowing on your clit to watch the way you clench around nothing. you shiver, hands moving to grip his hair.

after admiring your pussy for a moment, he licks a thick stripe from your hole to your clit, stopping to suck the bud into his mouth, hands coming to press you into the matress when you buck up into him. his tongue laps over your most sensitive spot and he rubs your wetness over his fingers before pushing one into you, moaning at the tightness of your walls. the vibrations of his moan travel straight through your clit and you let out a shameful whine.

after working his finger in you for a few moments, he adds a second, closely followed by a third as he continues his assault on your clit. your moans are loud and non-stop, only stopping to warn him how close you are.

“cum on my tongue, babygirl,” the dirty words dripping from his tongue push you over the edge and you let go with a cry, tugging on the strands of haechan’s hair so hard it nearly hurts him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” is all you can say as haechan makes his way back up your body, pressing his lips back to yours. on his tongue, you can taste the sweetness of your own cum and you move away from him only to tug his bottom lip in between your teeth, pulling then sucking on it to numb the pain.

you make quick work of his jeans, helping him out of them and chucking them to the floor, shortly followed by his own underwear. from his view, you look stunning, eyes hooded and blown out with lust, lips red and wet from kissing, bruised almost.

he doesn’t say anything as he lines himself up with your enterance, rocking his hips forwards and filling you completely. the pleasure is almost too much for you, still sensitive from your orgasm only minutes prior, eyes rolling back at the way he fills you so well. haechan’s head falls to your shoulder as he gives himself a moment to calm down, biting into your shoulder when he pulls out to the tip.

“you take me so well, baby,” the words are hot in your ear, his breath fanning down your neck, “look at you, all spread out for me.”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself as he pushed back in, moaning into your shoulder at the feeling of you around him, tight, wet, hot. he can sense he won’t last long as he sets a fast pace, chasing his own high.

to make up for his fast-approaching orgasm, he takes your ankle into his hand, pulling your leg up to rest over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit every sweet spot possible. the feeling leaves you paralyzed in pleasure, unable to do anything but chant his name.

“i’m gonna cum,” you mumble against him, whining out when his thumb comes down to rub fast circles on your clit.

“fuck,” haechan’s eyes are screwed shut and the sight is so other-wordly beautiful it almost makes you tear up. “i’m cumming.”

his hips stutter and the feeling of his cum filling you, some leaking onto the tops of your thigs, pushes you over the edge. your back arches as you cum over his cock, his hips still easing the both of you through your highs.

when you’ve calmed down, chest heaving as the aftershocks of your second orgasm ripple through you, he pulls out, wincing at the first flicker of overstimulation. he turns and presses a gentle kiss to your ankle, rubbing the fingers of his other hand over your cheekbone, relishing the fucked out expression on your face. he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, so exhuasted underneath him, sweat glistening over your skin.

“that was–”

“long overdue.”

he laughs an agreement out, falling next to you on the bed and lacing your fingers together. “we should watch movies together more often.”

a/n: the only thing i have to say is yikes at this point.

#haechan imagines #haechan smut #nct imagines #nct smut #donghyuck imagines #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #donghyuck smut #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck fluff #nct dream imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #bestfriends to lovers #nct bestfriends to lovers au #haechan bestfriends to lovers au #haechan #donghyuck #mark #jeno #renjun #jaemin #johnny #jaehyun #lucas

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Helping Hand ~ I.G.

A/n: My requests for open for a minute and someone requested and it made me feel very loved, thank you. Also I LOVE IAN GOD YES THANK YOU!! Side note: I began to think about this AU and immediately had SO many ideas, so if you’d like more parts to this then let me know!!

Request: “...could you do an Ian x male reader where the reader and Ian meet at a large building fire (they’re both working)?...”

MASTERLIST

When the car unlocked, the only sound louder than the roaring fire in the background became the heavy footfalls of those racing onto the scene to help. Firefighters trying to put out the blaze, people who had already escaped the fire, worried neighbors, even a few police. And EMTs like Ian And Y/n of course.

The two boys worked for the same station of course, but Ian was new and hadn’t met everyone yet. Y/n wasn’t even supposed to be on tonight - one of the others called in sock and Y/n arrived in time to get into gear and hop in the ambulance before they drove away on a call, so he and Ian hadn’t even talked yet. No, Y/n’s first impression of Ian was the redhead on the floor, reacting more quickly and more efficiently than anyone else on the team.

Needless to say, Y/n was impressed.

Ian felt similarly. Y/n was on top of his game, making sure everything was taken care of and that Ian had everything he needed to help the people being dragged out of the fire one after another. Most of them just had soot and a few minor burns that could be taken care of with some cream and a good wrapping. Ian never had to ask for them though, Y/n just had them at the ready- like the other man could read Ian’s mind. They worked like two gears in a functioning machine. As if they did this a hundred times.

It was when a child was pulled out that things changed. The small girl was unconscious and they weren’t sure if she’d made it. She’d cried and screamed until she’d passed out from smoke inhalation. Ian went right to work, moving her into the ambulance as they began to drive to the hospital. She would need it. The entire ride was smooth and the girl was coughing before they even got there. Unfortunately, she had really bad burns and she began to cry with how her lungs, skin, and eyes burned. Every time without fail, Ian would hold his hand out and Y/n would immediately hand him exactly what he needed- no words needed. The driver kept checking on them in the rear view mirror, seeming nervous by the lack of voices. Her eyebrows rose when she saw the two silently working and doing everything needed without a hickup.

When they dropped her off and returned to the fire to continue until everything was taken care of, Ian and Y/n stuck together. Neither knew when the decision had been made, but they obviously worked well together so why fix what was working, right?

Afterward, they kept looking at each other. When they got back to the station, Ian was the one to talk. “How long have to been doing this?”

“The real question,” Y/n shot back, “Is how long have YOU been doing this? Because you’re amazing.”

Ian smiled. “Thank you. I, uh, study a lot.”

Y/n nodded. “Ian, right? You’re the newby.” Ian was speechless, unsure how to proceed. It made Y/n laugh. “Yes you do have a reputation, if that’s what you were wondering. The new guy red head who’s crazy good? The only one to ever ace both the written and practical test other then the lady in charge herself? She’s been telling all of us about how skilled you are- especially after she got to see it in person. When I saw you today I knew it was you.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Ian chuckled. He wasn’t used to being complimented and struggled to take it without feeling the need to downplay his accomplishment. But he knew how hard he was working and knew it wouldn’t be fair to himself to do so. He focused on Y/n instead. “Means a lot coming from you. You weren’t too bad yourself. It was like you were reading my mind.”

Y/n shrugged casually. “When you’ve done this as long as I have, you know what needs to be done. Usually people ask for the wrong thing then I hand them the right thing and they realize I’m right and we continue. You didn’t even ask though. Not even once.”

“Well after the first few successes, I figured I didn’t need to ask,” Ian reasoned.

Y/n smiled now. “I have a question for you, Ian. You can’t take it badly, it’s a genuine question.”

Ian rose an eyebrow. “Scary.”

A chuckle from Y/n as he rolled his eyes. “I just- someone mentioned you’re gay. Is that true?”

Immediately Ian was defensive. Y/n didn’t look angry, but his smile could mean that he was about to tease and that wasn’t okay either. Gay jokes were just as irritating as insults. “Yeah I am. What about it?”

Y/n laughed again, this time more lively. Ian realized why a second too late. “I’m bisexual.”

There was a second where it had to sink in as Ian blinked, trying to switch gear from being defensive. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Y/n’s grin grew. “I thought I’d ask before I flirted with you, in case I was wrong and you took it as an insult or something. In case you were straight, I’d hate to mess up a really great friendship at the very least before it’s even begun.”

That took Ian off guard as well. “Flirt with me, huh?” Not that he was complaining. Y/n was cute and obviously charismatic. Ian had no problem with being flirted with by him. He just wasn’t used to how forward Y/n was.

“That’s what I said,” Y/n agreed. Ian felt himself relax. This man was easy to trust. He was obviously very honest and straight forward, which was a relief after all the experience he’d had with secret keeping and dodging around bushes and trying to make sense of chaos. “How would you feel about a date?” Ian panicked and Y/n held his hands up. “Nothing too fancy or serious. I’m not good at those myself. Just... a movie? And dinner? I’ll pay for popcorn, promise.”

Ian found himself relaxing again, leaning against his locker as he smiled. “Yeah I’d like that.”

“Cool.” Y/n pulled his jacket off and Ian got a good look of the build underneath. Not lacking if Ian was being honest. “When’s your next day off?”

-

Male Reader Taglist: @sheepfather

#ian gallagher #shameless #cameron monaghan #ian gallagher x reader #male reader #ian gallagher imagine #shameless x reader #shameless imagine #cameron monaghan x reader #cameron monaghan imagine

[whisperednarratives]

pairing:

bakugo katsuki x reader

cw:

angst

a/n:

im doing to start working on EVOLVE this week! i already have some drafts ready and im so excited to share the final work with you guys!!

fun fact: this scenario was originally written for EVOLVE but i decided not to put it in the story! :)

[NONE OF THE FOLLOWING WORKS HAVE BEEN EDITED OR PROOFREAD YET]

-

“Why are you here?”

Y/N’s fists stayed clenched besides her to stop her hands from shaking.

It was cold today, much like the gaze Bakugo Katsuki had set upon her as soon as she had approached him.

He hadn’t looked at her like that for a while now.

“What are you doing, Katsuki?” Y/N’s voice found its way out of her mouth, her eyes never leaving his.

“What do you think dumbass? I’m leaving.”

The silence that followed hung around the two for a few seconds, the streetlight lamp above their heads flickering occasionally.

“What do you mean?” Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N tried her best to remain patient.

“What the fuck do you think? I’m leaving U.A. My job here is done,” he rolled his eyes. “Frankly, I’ve over welcomed my stay.”

He turned back around, beginning to walk towards the gates that led to the city that lay outside of the U.A grounds.

They were already outside after curfew and getting caught was not an option. The last time they’d snuck out together, Aizawa had given them detention for a week.

Y/N rushed towards him.

“Katsuki, what are you talking about? What do you mean you’ve over welcomed your stay?”

Bakugo remained silent, his footsteps still thundering towards the metal gates.

Confused and slightly agitated, Y/N reached out to grab his shoulder. As soon as her hand touched his body, he turned around to slap it away.

Recoiling her arm, Y/N’s eyes immediately flooded with hurt.

“Katsuki, what’s the-”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!”

Bakugo’s eyes were as hard as stone, his voice echoing through the emptiness of the evening that had settled around them. His figure loomed over Y/N’s and for the first time in months, a sliver of fear slid through her body.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? Why are you even following me?”

“Kat-Bakugo, I just saw you leaving the dorms and wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m your friend...” Y/N managed to say, shrinking underneath his harsh gaze.

Friends. Friends. Friends.

Friends who kiss. Friends who hold hands. Friends who-

Bakugo let out a laugh and for once, Y/N found the sound to be unpleasant.

“Friends? What, you think you can feed me some bullshit and I’ll forget what I really came here for?” Bakugo folded his arms across his chest, crimson eyes blazing with disgust. “You, your words and your ‘friendship’ means nothing to me.”

Y/N’s body stilled, the flash of a memory she usually smiled at causing her eyes to screw themselves shut.

Y/N listened to Bakugo rant, his hands moving as rapidly as Iida’s. Normally the two would be at each other’s throats but today had ended up being different.

During training, Bakugo had been paired with Denki. The two had sparred like they usually would but Bakugo finished the fight with a blow so strong, Denki over exerted himself to the point where he became too dumb to respond. As Mineta and Mina rushed to pick him up, Mineta had decided to give his unwanted opinion.

“Damn Bakugo, sometimes I wonder if you would be better off as a villain.”

Usually, Bakugo would fly Mineta across the room for even speaking to him. But today he had turned around, eyes blank and exited the gym.

Y/N had caught sight of him leaving and decided to follow him. Before she knew it, they found themselves seated on the grass right outside the dorms with Bakugo talking at the speed of light.

“That piece of shit needs to keep his mouth shut before I rip all of the balls off his head. We were sparring, it’s what heroes do to train. It’s not my fault Dunce Face spasmed out of fear and rendered himself stupid. I mean yeah I could’ve gone easy on him but we’re training to fight the best of the best! Does he really think the bad guys will look at him and think, ‘Oh let’s just not attack this one!’ But that pint sized freak had to go and call me a villain!” Bakugo continued to scream, Y/N facing his side as his hand gestures began to get more violent.

Bakugo didn’t understand why he was so mad. Was it because Mina and Dunce Face had been around to hear it? Or because Y/N was nearby and she had witnessed the entire thing?

After all, what Mineta had said was tru-

Interrupting his ranting, Y/N reached out and placed a hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. Her touch was hesitant and so were her next words.

“Look Bakugo, you have raging anger issues and you tend to scream too much. You’re intolerably arrogant and you like to boss people around,” Y/N began, her gaze fixated on the blatant glare Bakugo was shooting her.

“Princess, if you’re going to insult me, at least-”

“But you are one of the strongest people I know,” Y/N continued. “You are brave and smart and so passionate about being a hero that we all overlook the fact that we want to run you over sometimes.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes.

Y/N realised later that the next thing she said is what really helped Bakugo open up to her. And for him to open up to Eijirou and Denki and the rest of the Bakusquad.

It had made him realise that she looked up to him despite his obvious flaws and had decided that he was worthy of her time.

Of her friendship.

And for some odd reason, Bakugo’s heart had filled with unfamiliar warmth at the sight of her smile.

He knew it was wrong. It was so wrong to let his guard down like this but just sitting next to her made him feel so at peace that for a moment he forgot that her smile towards him would eventually become rare sight.

“You are not a villain Bakugo Katsuki.”

“Bakugo, if you’re talking about-”

“Just fuck off. I don’t need you to hold my hand and tell me everything will be okay,” Bakugo snapped. “You will never understand the pressure I am under.”

“Bakugo please, I am your friend. You can talk to me,” Y/N pleaded. “I don’t understand what’s going on but I’m sure we can figure it out together.”

Bakugo barked out another laugh, just as unfriendly as the last one. He uncrossed his arms only to lean down to Y/N’s height.

“You will never understand. Let me make it clear to you L/N, you and I were never friends. You were just some naive little bitch I used as a distraction to get my job done,” Bakugo sneered as Y/N’s eyes started to water.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“You are weak and vulnerable and stupid. And you always will be. Do not come looking for me. I don’t want to be found or saved if that’s what you’re going for. Don’t try to come after me either or I won’t hesitate to blow you up.”

With that, Bakugo turned on his heels, continuing his journey towards the gates.

Y/N kept her head down, the tears in her eyes threatening to fall any minute now. She willed herself to stay strong, not for herself, but for Bakugo.

She knew he was just trying to say all those things because he wanted her to stay still. He wanted to make her feel pained enough to not chase him. To not come after him.

But he was still Katsuki.

Katsuki, who woke up early to make her breakfast every morning before class. Katsuki, who pushed her to train with him so she could get stronger. Katsuki, who stocked his mini fridge full of her favourite ice cream because she always crashed in his room. Katsuki, who held her hand the entire night when she fell sick a couple of weeks ago. Katsuki, who had hugged her close before whispering the words ‘You’re still a dumbass.’ and pulled her into a kiss. Katsuki, who had promised he’d never leave her.

Fuck. Move Y/N.

Just as Y/N managed to gather all of her strength to lift her foot one step closer, Bakugo paused.

Without bothering to even look at her, he landed his final blow.

“You know I’m glad the League tortured you the way they did when they captured you. After all, it was my idea.”

Y/N didn’t know what happened next.

All she remembered was her knees crumbling under the weight of her emotions only for her tears to flood her face faster than she had managed to fall in love with Bakugo Katsuki.

-

Kirishima awoke to a soft knock on his door. He rubbed his eyes, shifting to check the alarm clock he’d place on his bedside table.

3:45AM.

Who the hell could it be at this hour?

Irritated and still a bit drowsy, he slipped out of his warm bed to approach his door. The knocking continued, albeit a bit harder this time and Kirishima threw the door open.

“Calm down a damn min-”

He paused, eyes meeting Y/N’s.

With her face red and puffy, Y/N pushed past him to seat herself onto his bed. Confused, Kirishima closed the door behind him and switched on the lights in his room. That’s when he realised how shattered Y/N truly looked.

Dried tears streaked her face, her body shivering. Her knees were bruised and her hands would not stop shaking.

He had never seen her like this.

“Y/N, is everything okay? Do you want me to call Baku-“

Before he could finish, Y/N interrupted him.

“He’s gone,” she said, lifting her head just enough for Kirishima to see how lifeless her eyes were. “He... he was helping the v-villains.”

Suddenly, it felt like somebody had punched Kirishima in the gut.

“Bakugo’s the U.A traitor.”

#bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #mha katsuki

[cutegirlmayra]

What are your opinions on shadouge, silvaze, and tailream? I personally ship all of them.

I usually ship canon couples, meaning the company has chosen to make a romantically charged dynamic between one or more characters.

In this case, I believe Silvaze is the closest to having evidence from SEGA that they do intend to hint a little more towards romance but not by much. So I do support that, though I don’t think the two will ever be what they were in 06. I do believe, however, that they feel the residual lingerings of their past partnership continually, leaving for a tragic ending... (common in children’s video game media due to the ‘Star Rule’ of characters unable to be together.)

Blaze literally says, “But... I’ve always sort of liked that about you.” And in japanese, THAT’S GROUNDS FOR A CONFESSION PEOPLE! (though I believe the japanese script is slightly different. It still holds some weight towards this.)

It’s actively hinted at how well they work together due to their ‘erased’ timeline where they were so close. And there’s the hint that Sonic Channel art gives of them being the ‘separated lovers’ in mythology.

Also, matching outfits of this concept on ‘Sonic Speed Battle’.

This weird hinting of ‘missing/pining’ for the other is just--grips chest--AWgh. So heart warming but so tragic!

As for Shadouge, it was originally hinted at that Shadow would rival Sonic with Amy, but this was quickly scrapped and instead, Shadow and Rouge formed some unlikely teaming up and they expanded upon that relationship. Rouge actively goes out of her way to hint towards liking Knuckles romantically, but deeply cares about Shadow and his well-being. It’s clear she may like him too, but all evidence suggests she’s really just his only true friend, but then SEGA stated they don’t actually hang out much due to Shadow’s solitary lifestyle. In otherwords, her caring about him is out of loving sympathy, and though Shadow respects her, doesn’t let her influence him. So, it’s another tragic thing where Rouge’s care seems one-sided, but we’re all aware that Shadow would help Rouge and Rouge would help Shadow, whether he acted like he didn’t care or not, we all know he’s a good guy deep down inside XD

Rouge is often shown to have deep feeling for others, mostly through Knuckles and Shadow, so this makes sense that she’d mourn for Shadow more actively, and Sonic--being highly observant of others needs--would sense that Rouge’s sorrow is sincere. It would make sense to give her that last article of him.

Character placement in any media is important, this shows that they are close, probably the only true friend he has that cares about him actively. As for romantic, I often state it thusly, “She’s got her arms around both men, waiting for one of them to step up and make the first move...” but in all honesty, it’s canon that Rouge likes Knuckles, and is supportive of Shadow. (She should be his close friend, what the heck, SEGA. So he acts like he doesn’t reciprocate her worrying about him, so what? He’d still actively save/protect/be there for her if she needed him to be! That’s close enough for this edgy dude to consider them partners!)

As for Tailream, sorry to break any hearts, although I think it’s nice and don’t mind it much, I know that it’s actually canon for Bakkun to like Cream.

Rouge finds a locket in Sonic X that reveals his crush on Cream. Cream is also shown many times with Tails, but it looks as though each of those activities is ‘play’ like with young children, but not so much with any romantic intention within the cinema placement I before mentioned. It would fit within Cream’s character to admire Tails just like she would “Mr. Sonic” as heroes who have continually saved her and the world. 

How is this scene

Really all that different from him making a sandcastle with Cheese?

This scene is useful, because it shows Tails trying to comfort her in the way you would a small child, and sets up his view of Cream as a friend and little girl. Amy is often depicted the same way when it comes to comforting Cream like this, and showing friendship with Tails as well. Meaning, they both give Cream the same treatment, Tails is not ‘favoring’ Cream in any way.

There are clear differences in ‘proximity placement’ when you examine this and scenes with, let’s say, Cosmo and Tails in how they’re ‘next to each other’ verses the others.

Everything on screen is a choice made by the specific people of the animation and show. Nothing but animation errors are “accidents”.

Even Vector’s day-dream.... is a way to hint that others are noticing Tails’s feelings for her.

In canon, Cream is far too young to love anybody, and Tails is shown to canonically like Cosmo, who is closer to him too.

Cream is a little girl, maybe with age, she would turn towards Tails in affection, but for now, Tails seems to be kind to her but not really interested in a romantic pursuit. I think as they grow up further together, something could spark, but I’m not sure. It’s got no clear evidence that SEGA was leaning towards that.

We must also notice that Cosmo only existed in the anime, even if Cream wasn’t always featured in every game, she is canon to the game world too. I would just argue that maybe Tails doesn’t have a love interest within the game’s canon universe? He’s young too, you know XD Sonic is speculated to have been 11 when he first met 8 year old Amy. So Tails still has one more year before he meets his fated lover, eh? XD (I’m just kidding, but it’s funny to say XD)

It’s also canon that Cream uses her polite innocents to manipulate others like Sonic uses his charm and cool, good, dashing looks to manipulate Amy XD

Clearly, he milks it.

He’s such a bad example for Cream, lol

I remember he was shown with bubbles and such which is common in anime to reveal his ‘trying to charm her’ but again, I think I’ve made my points XD

I still think with time, Cream and Tails could become a future ship, but Cream is only actually in Sonic X mostly, and there aren’t many ‘signs’ of Tailcream in games cause they never really interact all that much.

However, the argument does stand that they are placed around each other quite often. So maybe one day when they’re older~<3

But you could also counter and say... that they aren’t always placed next to each other in this manner, so open-mindedness and accepting if someone likes them together still has some merit, so let people ship what they like ;)b

When you think about it though... who else would you logically place with Tails then? Sonic and Amy are taken, Knuckles and Rouge, so... who? Cream makes sense if you’re trying to pair Tails with someone, you know?

#tailcream #tailsmo #shadouge #knuxouge #silvaze #ask cutegirlmayra #cutegirlmayra ask #sonic ask #ask sonic #sonic shipping

[withoutmonsters]

Maybe I’m Too Young (to Keep Good Love from Going Wrong)

tags: implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced child neglect, a little bit of period typical homophobia, pining, so much pining, post s2, pre-s3

link to ao3

The broccoli sizzled when it hit the hot oil. Steve grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred it, getting all nice and coated in oil, before turning back to his cutting board and finishing chopping the florets. He hummed as he did, a Tears for Fears song that he had heard on the radio on the ride home. The sound of knuckles against a window startled him, and he whipped around. Through the cutout on the wall and the sliding glass doors, Steve could see Billy, smirking like a cat who got the cream and looking like a supermodel. Steve cursed him for surprising him, but crossed out of the kitchen and the living room.

He pulled open the door, glaring a bit. “What the fuck, Hargrove?”

Billy smirked. “What, pretty boy? It’s seven, you should’ve been expecting me.”

Steve glanced at the clock. It was, indeed, seven. “That doesn’t give you carte blanche to just startle me out of nowhere, dick.”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that your door was locked and I couldn’t get in, right? I wasn’t trying to startle you.”

Steve huffed, not bothering to give a reply. He knew Billy was right, as Billy was in most things, but that didn’t mean that he liked to admit it.

His friendship with Billy was a strange one. It was made up of equal parts aggression and secrecy. There were so many unspoken words between them that sometimes it felt like it was choking Steve, but he was never going to admit that, especially to Billy. He didn’t know a lot about the other boy, but he treasured what he did know. Like that Billy liked eating vegetables with his meat. If there wasn’t something green on his plate, he’d grumble about it until Steve found some. Steve knew that Billy was constantly licking him lips because they were always chapped. He knew that Billy had three freckles stretched across the expanse of his carotid artery on his neck, lined up like Orion’s Belt. He knew that Billy chewed on his cuticles and that his knuckles were constantly bleeding, not because of fights but because he was perpetually working on the Camaro. He knew that Billy liked his coffee so sweet that it puckered Steve’s lips when he tried it and that Billy would always wear the same three shirts over and over and over again. Steve learned that Billy tied his shoes incredibly tight and would always wrap himself up in about four layers of blankets if he came even remotely close to a bed.

The things that Steve didn’t know about Billy were, somehow, much more than what he did. They seemed to fill up the space around Billy, flooding the air and expanding like some sort of invisible gas. Steve choked on Billy’s secrets sometimes, when Billy showed up at 2 am, battered and hurt and looking like he just lost a fight against a grizzly. Those were the times when Steve had so many words and yet none at all, when he felt like he would suffocate on the lack of his reassurances. Billy never asked for them. All Billy asked for, the first time and all the times since, was a bathroom sink to spread out the first aid supplies he kept in his car. The first time Steve had volunteered his own supplies, Billy had pushed him away until Steve got in his face, eyes locked and mouth hardened in an unforgiving line. He had pulled the same expression he pulled when the party decided to go off and do something so incredibly stupid like venture into demodog infested tunnels just because their friend was in danger. He had worn the authority of his borrowed paternal status, like a mantle on his shoulders, chin held high and head canted like a crown rested on it, and Billy had given in, slumping like Atlas under the weight of the world, bags under his eyes and breath in his chest and he looked, for a moment, like a child, young and sad and so tired that Steve had wanted to wrap him up like a lost kitten and never let him go.

It had only been for a moment. Because the next was ruined with Billy’s words spilling from his mouth, because you could never forget that this was Billy Hargrove, a perpetual snake spewing poison, aggressive and angry and so on fire that sometimes it took Steve’s breath away. Billy burned like a bonfire; he was always so alive, like no one else Steve had ever known. Steve’s life had been a ceaseless suburbia, gray days bleeding into dark nights, and he hadn’t realized how much of it he had missed until Billy had blazed into the school parking lot, Scorpions on blast and an engine roaring like some kind of animal. It was like, through his whole life, Steve had been dreaming, lucid eyes wandering under closed lids, with flashes of decisions that usually ended up with him gripping a bat impaled with nails and waiting for a monster straight out of Dante’s ninth circle coming for him with shark teeth and a flower-petal face and in those moments, he wished with all his ardent heart that he’d lived differently, that he’d changed and loved and hoped and wanted but he never could find the energy to lift a finger when all was said and done and he’d gone home, bruised and tired and feeling a few centuries too old for his body. When it was all over, all Steve was good for was sleeping. Sleeping and waiting like some dragon, sitting on his trove with nostrils open and eyes closed.

And then Billy had been there, looking like a predator, and something had awoken in Steve, flaring to life in his chest and blazing a path through his mind until all he could see was Billy Hargrove, bedroom eyes and his sneer curling his lips. That was all, some nights. All Steve dreamed was Billy’s voice sliding through his ears, Billy’s eyes giving him so many mixed signals that they made cocktails in his lungs, gasping and burning and slurring until all Steve felt was an overwhelming exasperation with himself and the boy across from him. And some nights it was a blank panic that blacked out his vision until Billy found him like that, bruised and hurt but still concerned, because under all his hatred, he was just a boy with too big a heart. On those nights, it was Billy taking care of Steve, even if he was limping like a stray dog, like a broken machine. Steve would cling to him because he was real, because he was firm muscle grounded on strong legs attached to feet firmly planted to the ground and Steve felt like he would float away if he didn’t hold on hold tight to Billy’s biceps until he was sobbing crying breaking in his living room with all the lights blazing through the doors and then Billy would scoop him up and sit with him until early morning, when Steve was sleeping the exhausted sleep of a small child and Billy needed to get home before Neil decided that he had more of a problem than normal with Billy’s nocturnal habits.

This was the friendship that these two boys shared, stolen affections under the table, eyes locked and smirks exchanged and elaborate rituals concocted so that they could share one soft moment, because Hawkins didn’t like boys who dared to be soft; because Hawkins would punish boys who dared to be soft.

Nobody knew—not even Nancy, who was, arguably, still Steve’s best friend despite the breakup. He wasn’t doing too well with friends these days, to be honest. He had ditched Tommy and Carol when he’d started dating Nancy, and he didn’t really regret it until it was late in the day and Tommy was still throwing him those glances that were at once hateful and longing, like he couldn’t quite decide if he wanted Steve to be the scum in the storm drains or the king of the school. It was those days that Steve pushed Billy extra hard, meeting him glare-for-glare and shove-for-shove. Because he didn’t want to see those eyes watching hm from across the court, a sneer and tears in the same expression. He didn’t want to see Tommy, the boy who he’d loved and hated in equal measure since he was five years old and starting kindergarten.

And Billy was a nice distraction. A great one, in fact, from everything in his life. From demodogs and gates and girls with too-wise eyes that cut through the armor that Steve wore to the deep dark hole inside of him that ate up all his love, until he was an empty husk and everyone who’d ever made an effort to be his friend was standing six feet away, the same distance a coffin took up. But with Billy, the coffin was already there. Six feet of emotional distance, at all times. Enough space to shove a coffin, skeleton rotting through the body and all, placed like armor, because for Billy, anything that was living was potential to be hurt, and that meant weakness. And Billy wasn’t weak. Didn’t let himself be weak. Steve found it exhausting sometimes, the self-possession that Billy held. He kept it aloft, all the time, in rain or sun, through even his most deranged moments. At first, Steve thought he was wildly uncontrolled, a newborn colt kicking out at whatever he could reach, even if that was the life-giving mare right next to him. But the night at the Byers’ had made something painfully apparent: no, Billy wasn’t out of control. He was always, always in control, even if he was bashing his head into Steve’s like he didn’t care if he got a concussion. He knew everyone’s movements three steps ahead, and took the time to consider all of them and then make his own move; and most of the time, it was the worst move he could’ve made, designed specifically to hurt the most. He drove everyone away, with the careful precision of a surgeon overlaid by the brute force of a battering ram. It was distinctly Billy: strong and destructive and so completely unstoppable.

Billy leaned against the counter, blue eyes taking in too much as Steve fumbled with the broccoli florets. Steve’s nanny had taught him to cook in middle school. She had let him lurk in the kitchen as she moved about like a graceful ghost, hands quick and clever, eyes focused. Steve had asked to help one day, because the nights when she cooked were the closest he had gotten to family dinners in years, and she gave him a smile and showed him. When she was officially unemployed by the Harringtons, Steve kept in touch with her, receiving recipes weekly from her. It was something that endlessly fascinated Billy for some reason, Steve’s ability to cook. The first time he’d stayed for dinner, his eyes had been pinned to Steve the whole night. Steve had shifted, awkward under his stare, wondering if it would always be like that.

Steve added the broccoli heads, stirring until they were coated. After he was done with the broccoli, Steve added the chicken, cut up into bite sized pieces, to brown. Billy went to the fridge and pulled out a beer, silently offering to get one for Steve, too. Steve shook his head, motioning to the bottle of wine that he had opened when he started cooking dinner.

Billy’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Bougie wine mom,” he joked, voice gently teasing, and Steve wrinkled his nose at him.

They sat down to dinner in comfortable silence, forks clinking against plates and the sounds of chewing the only conversation. Steve didn’t mind; in fact, he enjoyed nights like these, where Billy was quietly soft, more focused on his own inner narrative than what is going on around him. The first few nights like this, Billy had swung between awkward and aggressive, until they had actually sat down to eat food and then Billy had dug in like a starving dog and suddenly the bubble of awkward dancing around each other was popped and it felt like they had been doing this since they were children.

“Damn,” Billy had muttered. “This is really good, Harrington.”

Steve’s cooking skills had spawned a slew of mom jokes from him, as well, but Steve weathered them good-naturedly because when Billy was teasing him about his cooking, he wasn’t flirting. And that was sort of the goal, for these nights. To avoid flirting with Billy Hargrove, because it was becoming more and more apparent that Steve was beginning to like him too much for his own good.

And he couldn’t like Billy, because liking Billy meant wanting Billy and if it was one thing that Steve knew for certain, it was that wanting Billy would kill him. It wouldn’t be the demodogs, it wouldn’t be the Mind Flayer—hell, it wouldn’t even be the snowy roads in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere, Indiana, that never got salted after a storm and were always perilous to drive. No, it would be the sheer wanting of Billy Hargrove.

And Steve couldn’t say he didn’t look forward to that day, but he also wasn’t the one who relished pain like Billy. He couldn’t laugh through a punch; he couldn’t make it seem like it was simultaneously all a big joke and deathly-serious at the same time. Steve didn’t like pain despite the number of fights he lost.

But Billy—Billy was the kind of pain he kept poking at. In the early mornings when the sun hadn’t quite risen yet, in the dark of night when the maws of the Demogorgon ate up his dreams, in the bright daylight at school when Steve could see Billy’s face all to clearly, he poked at it. It felt a little like a sore tooth; he could walk on it, chew with it, move with it, but it wasn’t comfortable.

Billy finished all the food on his plate in record time and got up to get more. Steve watched him go, thinking about how that broad back was always turned to him, even when Billy was walking toward him, and it hurt something deep inside of him, but he wouldn’t say anything.

There was nothing to say. There was food to eat, and a hungry boy to feed, and perhaps some bruises to tend. What there was not something between them. Steve could survive this strange friendship with Billy, but he couldn't survive love.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #season 2 #post season 2 #implied/referenced child abuse #implied/referenced child neglect

[starishsky]

which character should you fight: obey me edition

i’m not a headcanons person except when it comes to THIS specific instance.

Lucifer Winner: Depends look. all i’m saying is that for the amount of times he’s tried to kill you, he’s never succeeded. do you think there’s a reason for that? i do. i think he secretly does not have THE GUTS to kill you. did you see how well what went over with his father? exactly. (it would also help if you had the powers of the other brothers and anime on your side. i’m just saying.)

Mammon Winner: You, but at what cost hear me out, i don’t think mammon is weak or anything physically. like he’s a demon and shit. i think it’s more about the motives of him fighting you. i could honestly say you could take off your watch or something and toss it off to the side. he wouldn’t pass up a business opportunity just like that. in addition, there’s no telling when the witches are gonna call for him again. how could you lose? even so, it’s kinda dirty to fight someone who would 100% not fight you.

Levi Winner: Levi ok... even if he’s a “gross otaku” or whatever, if you touch his shit without him asking you’re dead. no exceptions. he’ll punch the shit out of you and go back to ruri-chan later. you literally saw this in one of the earlier chapters and someone had to step in and stop him from breaking ur bones.

Satan Winner: You, but plan ahead he’s baby. i mean, he’s literally the baby of the family but he’s ranked fourth for a reason anyway. he’s changed from the little ball of wrath that his brothers claimed that he was in the past, but if you come at him fists blazing that could change in a heartbeat. even tho he’s a book nerd rn and all, i’m gonna warn you that after years of intentionally pissing off lucifer he should know how to press ur buttons (aka distract you). pick this battle wisely.

Asmo Winner: No one. asmo will literally not let you touch his face or any other part of him for that matter for the sake of “not ruining his image.” dude has a routine to keep and he’d laugh in your face and go get his beauty sleep before even thinking of getting in a tussle with you. you’d have to chase him down, but at that point it wouldn’t be worth it.

Beel Winner: ??? look. we all know beel could turn 206 bones into 412 bones if he wanted to. he charged at lucifer balls to the wall and all. not to go into the trope of him being “too busy eating” but he would be too busy eating something to even pay attention to you, but he’d probably rather just be friends. i mean if you got in the way of him eating you’d be beaten to a pulp, but honestly what can you expect from swinging at a hornet’s nest?

Belphie Winner: Belphie i won’t spoil chapters for you, but all i’m saying is this: don’t.

Diavolo Winner: Both of you :) diavolo would consider you charging at him as a gesture of friendship, and open his arms wide to a perceived “hug.” he seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t know his own strength and break your spine on accident while hugging you. but hey. you gained a new friend (???)

Barbatos Winner: Also depends barbatos could easily cream you because of his power to see all possibilities and shit, but you know what? in the right mood he might let you beat him up “because it’s more interesting that way.” depends on the circumstances of the fight really. if you’re bringing diavolo into the equation, he’d make you into a jam for diavolo’s morning toast.

Solomon Winner: Solomon there’s something about solomon that doesn’t sit right with me. he feels kinda like a trickster who would start shit on purpose. if you’ve read certain chapters you know what i’m talking about, but other than that i’m keeping my mouth shut. i just think he would do something shady like throw sand in your face or something. don’t do this.

Simeon Winner: Simeon he would win but not in the way you expect. i think that simeon has the ability to talk people down based on the way i’ve seen him deal with fights before, so i think he’d just have to be like “c’mon, let’s just get lunch sometime” and you’d have no reason to say no. like, all motivation to fight would just leave your body.

Luke Winner: You what kind of fucked up person do you have to be to pick a fight with a literal 10 year old. you could like, sit on him and he’d be done for, but he honestly seems like the kind of kid who bites no matter how much he’s struggling. this fight is a no brainer, but you should ask yourself why you’re picking it in the first place.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #this was based off of old 'who should you fight' posts that trended a while ago #good times #long post

[theycallmequeenie]

Not Strong enough to let go

Gabriel x Reader One Shot

Note: Gif not mine. Credit to the original creator/ owner which I believe is @astralgabriel but I may be incorrect. Kinda AU, established Gabriel x Reader romantic relationship. Established Reader x Winchester friendship. Set in season 13. Cannon level violence. Word count is at roughly 2140.

 Master List

Y/N had known the Winchesters for a couple of years now and through them she had been introduce to Gabriel. The pair had hit it off from the start and were now inseparable. Y/N before joining the Winchesters had studied theology which seemingly gave her an edge on dealing with some of the things the hunter’s life had to deal with and gave her and Gabriel something to talk about and bond over in a sense. She would always take down meticulous notes anytime Gabriel would finally open up about his family or his time in heaven.

Gabriel found some joy in talking with Y/N about the past. This was something that never happened with him before, He was at ease around her and he noted to himself that for him wasn’t a usual thing for him ever. This feeling of easiness and comfort was enjoyable to him which helped him decide that hanging around the bunker wasn’t such a terrible idea. Staying would in turn move his relationship with Y/N along, which was something he truly desired for the first time since he was with Kali and would give him a chance to get to know his nephew, by Lucifer, Jack. Something he thought was a nifty bonus.

Y/N was in the bunker’s library reading something to help the Winchester brothers find a way to reopen the portal to the ‘Apocalypse World’ so that they could save their mom. She was trying to find even hint of an idea of how to help. As she was sitting with her back to the rest of the bunker sort of in her own little world, Gabe decided to check on her and in return he startled her and luckily was able to catch the flying book that was previously in her hands.

Gabe sheepishly chuckled, “Sorry Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He lowered himself just enough to wrap his arms around Y/N’s shoulders as she sat in the chair trying to calm her racing heartrate. “Since we have the place to ourselves, I thought maybe me and my Special Girl could maybe get some alone time together, what do ya say Babes?”  He waggled his eyebrows as he spoke but frowned when he saw her shake her head no.

She sighed as she shook her head in response to his offer. She knew that frustrated him to no end and she felt terrible about it. For a few weeks now that had been the same answer to his same question. She was focused on the task that was given to her and she would slave over the lore books to the point of exhaustion. She would stumble to their shared room nap for a few hours and do it all over again. She knew it was worrying Gabe, but she also knew it had to be done. The longer it took to find answers the more of a chance that they weren’t going to find Mary alive and well. “I’m sorry Gabe but if I don’t do this research who will? We still need answers and the boys are off in a hunt…”

Gabe stopped her before she could continue annoyed and slightly angered. He was really feeling rejected by her in that aspect lately and had finally had enough. He did his best to reign in as much of his anger at the situation as he could but some of it seeped through into his words and his tone. “I don’t know, maybe the two whose mother is trapped over there?! They are using you as their research bitch, Y/N! Can’t you see that?” His whiskey colored eyes blazed with all his pent-up emotion. “Or are you using their research as an excuse because you don’t want me anymore?” He almost whispered, the thought of the woman that he was so in love with had possible fallen out of love with him crushed him to the core.

Seeing the pain in his eyes broke her heart. “Gabe. That is so far from the truth and you should know that. Hell, you are basically all I think about. All you ever need to do is read my mind if you feel any doubt about my feelings for you.” She stood and placed her forehead to his and focused all her energy on making him feel her love she held for him. She wanted it to wrap around him like his wings would often wrap around her in the times she needed comforted. “I know we have been up to our necks in it lately and I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, but Gabe, I am to the point that I feel guilty for needing sleep because it takes time away from possibly finding what we need to get her home. I’m sorry…” Her voice cracked at her last two words and she walked away from the archangel, leaving him essentially speechless.

He watched as Y/N stormed off toward their room and jumped slightly as he heard the door slam shut. “Okay, how is this my fault?!” He exclaimed, as he stomped back to their room to try and talk to her. “C’mon, Sugar. Talk to me.” He spoke as he opened the door expecting to see her curled up on their bed but instead, he saw her quickly packing her go bag. He frowned deeply. “You’re leaving…” It was meant as a question but came out as more of a statement almost feeling rejected again.

Looking up from what she was doing she shook her head no once again. “No, Feathers. We are leaving. Sam called they need our help. Dean got hurt and is on the shelf. He needs a couple extra sets of hands. Hunters work is never finished, Handsome.” She frowned seemingly a little disappointed. As she walked by him, she put her hand on his forearm. “Looks like Willy Wonka and cuddling will have to wait, again.”

Gabriel was pleasantly surprised at her words and thought, ‘Hey at least she was considering more than just napping in here for three hours and running back to that Dad damn library again.’ He smiled and followed Y/N out to her car. “Alright. Let’s go gank this sucker so we can get back here and get our snuggle on.”

The two drove the few hours to meet up with Sam and the injured Dean and listened to Sam filled them in on what happened and what they were hunting. Seems they underestimated a nest of vampires and one of them had gotten the drop on Dean which resulted in a concussion and him having to sit the rest of the hunt out. So, they sat and planed it all out and waiting for night to come.

As it started getting dark Y/N, Sam, and Gabriel piled into the Impala and headed toward the nest’s location Y/N and Gabriel were in the back seat together leaving Sam in the front by himself to drive. Gabriel insisted that she sat with him. They held onto each other’s hands the entire drive there. He knew Y/N still had some doubts about her hunting abilities and was doing his best to help her psych herself up for the battle that lay ahead of the three of them.

Sam put the impala in park and cleared his throat to let the two know they were there. Y/N got out of the back seat first and met Sam at the trunk where he handed her a machete and made sure she was ready for the coming battle. With a nod and a glance over her shoulder to make sure Gabriel was right behind her they made their way into the nest and started fighting.

Sam had managed to kill two vampires so far and Y/N managed to get one but was tussling with another that happened to be three times the size of her.  Sam went to help her when one jumped on his back and Gabriel was fighting another vampire leaving Y/N to fend off the large vampire by herself. She was losing the fight. The Vampire had managed to get several solid hits in on her and knocking her machete out of her grasp. The vampire that was fighting her pinned her to the wall with one hand forcing a terrified squeak out of her throat and picking up the blade in his other hand. Gabriel looked up in time to watch the monster shove the machete into Y/N’s abdomen. He saw her eyes go wide from the shock of being run through with her own blade.

Gabriel smites the vampire he was fighting and yells to Sam, who had just finished beheading the vampire that he was fighting with. Sam yells “No!” Gabriel snaps his fingers and the vampire that stabbed Y/N disintegrates on the spot. Before Sam knows it, Gabe is next to Y/N cradling her trying to heal her, but it wasn’t working for some reason which was only adding to Gabriel’s panic.

“No no no no… You gotta stay with me, Love. Please don’t leave me, Sugar.” There were tears in his voice as he kept trying to heal Y/N but to no avail. He couldn’t figure out why, he had never not been able to heal her before. He sent up a silent prayer to his father asking him for help, but he knew it was all for naught. As he cradled his dying love to him, he did his best to contain his emotions, but his eyes were betraying him. He started murmuring to her softly in Enochian because he knew it would bring her comfort.

Y/N whimpered softly against him fighting back a cough, “Gabe. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” She had to pause to take a few ragged breaths before continuing, “Gabriel, I need to tell you this before…”

Y/N had to pause again but this time Gabriel tried to shush her, “Baby save your strength, okay? You don’t need to tell me anything. I’m going to get you beck to the motel room and we are going to get you patched up and everything is going to be just peaches and cream.” He looked to Sam and nodded silently telling him that he would see him back at the motel and disappeared whit Y/N.

Gabriel arrived with a dying Y/N in his arms about the same time Sam got back to the motel. Sam somehow made land speed records to be there. Dean jumped up despite the concussion. Gabe laid Y/N down on the bed that wasn’t occupied though he stayed close to her. He tried in vain to heal her would again. Though he knew deep down it wasn’t going to work.

As Sam started to explain to his brother what transpired, Gabriel felt Y/n weakly clutch his hand to get his attention. She knew her time was drawing close and she could see the reaper in the corner of the room waiting for her. She mustered her last bit of energy to speak to Gabriel.

“Gabriel…” She gasped for air, “You need to hear this.” She paused again feeling weaker and weaker by the second. “I love you, Feathers.” As she forced the words out, she heard the Reaper speak in a gentle voice to her telling her it was her time to go. Y/N reluctantly went with the Reaper that had come to collect her, as she crossed to the other side her body went limp in Gabriel’s arms.

Gabriel felt her leave him and let out a pained scream the likes of which the Winchesters never heard. Sam and Dean simply watched as the archangel before them mourn the loss of his love in awe. Gabriel wept openly over the loss of Y/N as he held her now lifeless body to him.

Sam and Dean let him have an hour with Y/N’s body before they suggested moving on with the process of her passing and getting her Hunter’s Funeral in the works.  Which Gabriel didn’t react positively to, but they knew that was going to be the case. It took them some time to talk Gabe into going through the proper motions, but it was done and it about broke Gabriel to say goodbye to her in that final way. Sam told Gabe that they had found a spell to open the portal to get their mom back. Gabe gave them a bitter laugh but said he was in. He figured that would be an easy way out of his pain that wouldn’t offend his father. He was going with the boys to Apocalypse World with no plan in coming back…

The End

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