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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing.

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him. One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

292 notes · View notes

aenaxes · 3 years

Note

OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

#fun fact: my signature party trick is flirting with a guy and then stealing his blunt ✌️😗#thinking about how schlorbe n i agreed crosshair listens to souncloud mumble rap :/#its ok i kiss him anyways #hc that crosshair’s an econ/finance bro and hunter’s a history major hehe #sequel series: crosshair goes venture capital (gross)#tech's probably at like the space equivalent of mit or something #and i will Die on the hill that wrecker's super smart with kinesiology #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #anon #yaej.writes

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heart-of-gold-outlaw · 3 years

Text

Welcome Home | Chapter Ten: Still Breathing

Finally—finally—, the day comes to rescue Sean. You honestly don’t know what to expect. Most of the others in camp aren’t much help, referring to Sean with a roll of their eyes and something along the lines of: “half a mind to let the bounty hunters keep him.”

They should be saying that about Micah, you think to yourself as you watch Charles and Arthur saddle their horses. Maybe then Dutch’ll kick him out.

Still, Sean is a bit of a wildcard to you. You won’t figure out what he’s really like until you meet him, and until then, you decide to keep an open mind. Worst case scenario? He’s Micah’s long-lost brother. Best case scenario? He’s… well. Maybe it’s best not to think about all the things he could be. Keep yourself on your toes.

You sit on a tree stump while the boys get ready. Taima is an absolute beauty of a horse, and you can tell by the way Charles dotes on her that she’s got a good life. Briefly, thoughts of having a horse of your own cross your mind. That appaloosa gelding is probably still for sale in Valentine. Maybe if you can get enough money, you can buy him.

Arthur and Charles take their sweet time packing more than enough ammo, which means you quickly get bored. Every scratchy detail on the tree stump bothers you, too. Hopping to your feet, you decide to get some chores done. Everyone’s been so preoccupied with the big upcoming rescue, they’ve neglected some of the finer details in camp.

The ax is in its usual spot, surrounded by whole logs that need to be chopped. You grab ahold of the handle. It feels lighter than it used to, and you realize you’re getting stronger.

Goodbye noodle arms, you think as you bring the ax down on to the first log. You don’t quite split it, but it’s getting closer than ever. And hello Jack Lumber.

A few chops in, you feel the muscles in the back of your neck tense. Someone’s behind you, and you’re not quite sure who. But soon enough, a low, sinister chuckle reaches your ears. Micah.

“Well,” he says. “Looks like the camp nuisance is finally doing some work.”

You slowly count to three before turning around. Micah stands by you, a little too close for your liking, and he’s got a smirk on his face that twists your gut something awful. You’ve started wearing a gun belt, and the hand that isn’t holding the ax inadvertently twitches toward your revolver.

“You know something, Y/N?” He takes a step toward you. “I think you’re starting to wear out your welcome.”

Fire ignites in your chest. No. No. Micah doesn’t get to do this, try and make you second-guess yourself and your place in the gang—especially not after you’ve just started feeling comfortable.

“Back off, you useless mineral,” you hiss.

Micah’s lips curl into a snarl as he takes another step toward you. This one feels infinitely more threatening, and you barely keep yourself from taking a step back. You’ll be damned if Micah wins this fight.

“Take another step,” you warn, “and I’ll jump rope with your intestines.”

Honestly, you don’t really expect him to feel threatened, but the odd choice in words is enough to throw him off. You can see him trying to process everything you said, which gives you enough time to throw the ax down and skedaddle.

Your heart thuds frantically in your chest as you hurry to Arthur and Charles. Micah won’t try anything if you’re with them; that much, you know for sure.

“We ready to go?” You ask as nonchalantly as you can. “If I chop one more piece of wood, I’ll have to start wearing flannel.”

Charles looks confused at “flannel,” but Arthur frowns as he glances over at the chopping block. His expression hardens when he sees Micah storming away.

“Micah giving you trouble?” He asks, a hint of something dangerous in his voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” You go to lean against the hitching post, miss, and almost topple over. Face burning, you settle for folding your arms over your chest.

Arthur and Charles exchange looks.

“If he tries anything,” Charles tells you, calm and steady, “let us know. We’ll take care of it.”

We’ll take care of it. How a statement so simple and so general can sound that dangerous, you’ll never know. You wordlessly nod, not knowing how to respond.

Charles leaves, then, to go saddle Taima. You look to Arthur, ready to follow him to Florence, who’s already tacked up and ready. But he doesn’t move.

“Micah been buggin’ you a lot?”

You shake your head. “Not really. I mean, he gave me a hard time when I was cleaning up Pearson’s wagon a while ago, but Hosea scared him off.”

Arthur turns to look at you. “And today?”

“Oh.” You think back to the confrontation. “Well, he called me the ‘camp nuisance’ and said I was starting to wear out my welcome.”

A glint of fury flashes through Arthur’s eyes as he throws a glare in Micah’s general direction. You shiver involuntarily. Thank goodness you’re not on a certain cowboy’s bad side.

“I’ve been called worse, to be honest,” you say with a shrug, and smile slightly when Arthur looks at you again. “I’m kinda used to it.”

He gives you a troubled frown instead of sharing your nonchalance. Confused, you feel your smile waver a little.

“What?” You ask.

“You…” Arthur begins, trails off, then continues: “You know it ain’t true, right?”

“What isn’t?”

“The part about being a nuisance. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either.”

Something pulls at your heart, something strong, and you’re suddenly at a loss for words. You’ve had so many doors slammed in your face, so many people come and go, never staying, never even wanting to stay… And you couldn’t do anything but watch them leave.

“Oh,” is all you manage around a tight throat.

Arthur looks at you some more. His eyes are soft now, soft and full of what you think is understanding. He reaches out, maybe to put a hand on your shoulder, but apparently thinks better of it and instead motions for you to follow him. You trail a little behind as he walks toward Florence. You ain’t wearing out your welcome, either. Did… did Arthur really mean that? Does that mean the rest of the gang, minus Micah, feels the same way? You can’t help but shake your head in wonder. You don’t think you’ll ever understand these people.

Once you catch up, Arthur easily swings himself on top of Florence, then hauls you into the saddle behind him. You’re starting to get used to horseback. Florence may be absolutely massive, but you don’t feel so unsteady anymore. In fact, you might actually like riding.

“We’re meeting up with Javier just outside of Blackwater,” Charles says as he brings Taima over. “Trelawney thinks the bounty hunters will bring Sean upriver.”

Arthur nods and sets a steady trot out of camp. “Good. We can probably cut ‘em off when they reach the border. I think there’s a canyon that’ll give us some decent cover.”

“Any luck, we’ll take them by surprise.” Charles urges Taima into a canter, which Florence matches. “How many do you think there’ll be?”

“For Sean?” Arthur laughs, and you try not to look too enamored. “Any pair of fools could handle him. But there’ll be a lot of ‘em, no doubt.”

Charles hums in thought, but doesn’t say anything else. Much of the ride passes in comfortable silence. Although you want to focus on admiring the scenery and marvel at the lack of, well, everything, you find yourself thinking about the upcoming fight. You may not know a lot about the past, but you’ve seen enough Westerns to know bounty hunters always put up a hell of a fight. That, and they always keep coming right when you think you’ve killed them all.

Your revolver suddenly feels heavy in its holster. You bite your lip, a little unsure. Yes, you’ve used it once at Six Point Cabin, and yes, you’ve managed to hit a few bottles, but those were honestly lucky shots. And neither of them were shooting back.

Bounty hunters, though? Different story. For as much bravado as you showed Dutch during his little tirade, you have to admit that you’re a little nervous. It’ll be your first real gunfight. You’ll have Arthur and Charles looking out for you, but you can’t help the anxiety knotting deep in your gut.

If I die, I die, you think. No going back now.

///

Conversation lags for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, after crossing a small river, you’re in what Arthur tells you is West Elizabeth. It looks… well, it looks like a perfect snapshot of a history textbook. Rolling hills and open land, bison… it’s absolutely stunning.

Off in the distance, you see two people looking over the edge of a cliff. You recognize Javier, but you don’t recognize the other man, with his mustache and mischievous eyes. He smiles when he sees Arthur and Charles, then peers at you curiously.

“And who might this be?” He asks as Arthur dismounts, leaving you alone atop Florence.

Your brain goes into a blue screen of death, and before you know what you’re doing, you say: “My name is an enigma and holds all the secrets of the universe.”

“That would be Y/N,” Arthur says, exasperated. He helps you down and grabs his rifle from the saddle. “Y/N, this is Josiah Trelawney.”

Trelawney bows with a flourish. “At your service, my dear.”

You instantly decide you like him. Waving hello to Javier, you approach the edge of the cliff, crouching low like everyone else.

“Sean?” Arthur asks as he looks down the scope of his rifle.

“I think he’s in that boat over there.” Javier gestures to a small vessel upriver. “Think they’re docking to take him further inland.”

Arthur turns the scope, then gives a hum of confirmation. “That’s him alright. Giving those bounty hunters hell.”

Trelawney nods and rises before mounting his horse. Setting a slow walk, he motions for everyone to follow him. Arthur helps you on to Florence, and then you’re off once more.

“If we do this right,” Trelawney says, “we can cut them off. Remember: we’re just innocent folk out for a ride on the trail. Let’s not draw their attention just yet.”

The five of you ride toward a canyon. Ahead, you can see the boat docked at the shore, along with several well-armed, intimidating bounty hunters standing guard. They don’t look like they’re in much of a mood to negotiate. In fact, they look ready to shoot on sight.

Everyone takes cover around the bend. Trelawney, odd man that he is, seems more preoccupied with his coat than the problem at hand.

“Now ain’t the time for a fashion statement,” Arthur drawls.

“Au contraire, my dear fellow,” Trelawney says with a smile. “Bounty hunters are even more gullible than hillbillies. I have to look the part if I’m going to make the proper distraction.”

Then, before any of you can say a word otherwise, Trelawney strides confidently toward the bounty hunters. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you just know he’s spinning a tale bigger than the Grizzlies. He waves his arms in a grandiose gesture. In another situation, you would have mistaken it for part of the act. But now, along with Arthur, Charles, and Javier, you recognize it for what it is: a signal.

Arthur fires a quick shot, striking one of the bounty hunters between the eyes. From there, it’s chaos. All you can hear is the sound of gunfire and shouting. You take cover behind a rock, firing your revolver without really trying to hit anything. You don’t know if any of your bullets find their marks. Honestly? Probably not.

“Let’s push up on ‘em,” Arthur commands.

You stick close by him as you make your way up the canyon. The bounty hunters have regrouped by now, which lets them put up more of a fight. A bullet whizzes by your ear—too close for you to ignore—and you yelp and duck further into cover.

Arthur quickly lays down some cover fire, then hauls you up and pulls you behind a larger rock. You don’t even have time to tell him thank you. The firefight picks up again, bullets flying, ricocheting, sometimes hitting their targets, sometimes hitting the canyon walls. It takes nearly all your self-control to keep a level head.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Javier reloading his guns, but also just barely peeking out of cover. You look up the canyon trail. There, off in the distance, half-hidden by gun smoke and dust, you can just barely make out the silhouette of a bounty hunter—and he’s aiming right at Javier.

You steel yourself. You’re not some useless coward who needs to be protected. You’re a member of the Van Der Linde Gang—an outlaw. And one of your own is in danger.

Your anxiety flees, replaced by determination. Edging ever-so-slightly out of cover, you fire off a shot toward the bounty hunter, then duck back behind the boulder. A pained yell tells you that you hit your mark, and it’s followed by silence.

Javier looks at the fallen bounty hunter, then at you. He nods his head in thanks. Smiling, you tip your fingers in a mock-salute, then follow Arthur as he pushes further up the canyon.

It doesn’t take long for your little group to reach a clearing. Right away, you see someone dangling upside down from a tree. He’s also surrounded by vicious-looking men who you would honestly rather avoid.

Well,you think to yourself. That must be Sean.

The bounty hunters have been expecting you, and they fire several warning shots into the tree line. You duck behind the trunk of a massive pine. To your right, you see Arthur considering the situation, trying to figure out the best approach. On your left, Javier and Charles wait on a signal. You don’t know what happened to Trelawney, but you think he’s alright.

“If we can get around them,” Arthur eventually says, “we can come at them from all sides.”

Javier grins. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Charles gives him a look. “Only the fish can shoot back.”

Arthur nods, then looks back toward the clearing. “Someone’s gotta get to Sean quick as they can. I got a feeling he’s gonna be bait.”

“I’ll do it,” you tell him. “There’s enough cover behind that tree he’s tied up in. I’ll be fine.”

For a long, long moment, Arthur looks uncertain. But when you give him a pleading look, silently begging him to let you prove yourself, he sighs and folds the cards.

“Alright,” he agrees. “Wait until you got a clear opening, then go for it.”

Everyone heads off in opposite directions, leaving you to prepare yourself for the sprint of the century. One by one, the boys shoot the bounty hunters, hitting each with impeccable aim. Then, almost before you’re ready, you spy the perfect opportunity.

Making a beeline for Sean, you dive behind the tree just as the bullets start flying again. You sit there for a few seconds, catching your breath. You can’t believe you’re still alive. All that time in open space, and not a single scratch on you.

“It’s over!” You hear one of the bounty hunters shout.

He sounds dangerously close to you. Peeking around the tree, you see him standing not a foot away, pointing his rifle at Sean.

Shit.

You duck back into hiding before you’re spotted. This is exactly what you didn’twant to happen, and it happened anyway. Wracking your brain for ideas, you look around for anything that could be of use.

Think think think think think think—

There’s a corpse not too far from you, and you spy a knife on its belt. Moving purely on instinct and adrenaline, you snatch it from its sheath, turn back to the bounty hunter, and shove it through his throat right in the middle of his next sentence. He stays on his feet for maybe a second longer, then collapses.

You slowly back away from him. Dimly, you realize that the fire fight is over, that everyone else is okay, but you can’t bring yourself to focus on that. All you can do is stare at the body on the ground… the man you just killed.

“You alright there, friend?” Sean asks, still upside down.

“Uh,” your voice sounds far away to your own ears, “yeah. I’m fine.”

After that, you have maybe five seconds before your stomach lurches. Doubling over, you heave violently for a while before coughing, spitting out the taste in your mouth, and wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“Hiya Sean. I’m Y/N.”

Accompanying Music: Still Breathing | Green Day

Ko-Fi

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fic #welcome home

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shortprince-cos · 3 years

Text

More Truths Than Dares

Summary: After "The Double Closet Incident" as Patton so calls it, Patton and Janus have a talk at their friends' sleepover.

Ship: Moceit (Patton x Janus)

Warnings: Smoking, claustrophobia mention, truth or dare. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Note: This is a direct sequel to "In A Closet"! You can read this without reading that, but it'll probably be confusing!

{Previous}

{Masterlist} (I KNOW I NEED TO FIX IT BUT IM A PROCRASTINATOR FIGHT ME)

~~~~~

"Oh, I didn't know he was invited."

All Patton had done was walk in the door. He hadn't even said hi, or hugged Roman yet, he just walked in the door, and Janus was already on his back for just existing in his presence.

It was going to be a long night.

"Yes? He's my best friend, you know!" Roman defended as he brought Patton to sit on the couch with him and Logan.

"Wow, rude." Logan said.

Roman made a series of offended noises. "You're my boyfriend! So obviously Patton is my best friend!"

As the two quickly dissolved into playful banter, Patton stood to go put his overnight bag in Roman's room, hearing Janus whisper something to Remus and Virgil as he walked by.

Just ignore it, he thought, not really in the mood to argue today. Especially not after what Patton had dubbed ‘The Double Closet Incident’.

It was disastrous. Not only did Patton get locked in a closet with Janus, who has claustrophobia, he discovered that he may have a thing for men. Who knew?

Roman. Roman probably knew, especially after he had adopted Patton into their little friend group. And if being gay was a contest, Roman would be the judge.

But...it was normal to feel that way, right? It wasn't weird to feel embarrassed when someone got up in your personal space, was it? It wasn't abnormal to blush when someone said kind words to you, or odd to imagine yourself in different scenarios with someone you saw on a daily basis and they were-

Wait, what was he doing again?

Patton sighed as he set down his bag by Roman's bed. Those were thoughts for another day. He was supposed to be having fun at his best friend's sleepover, after all!

Patton put on a happy face and went back to the living room to join the others, finding that Roman and Remus were wrestling over something, Logan and Janus were debating, and Virgil was scrolling on his phone. Yep, it was going to be a long night.

---

After breaking up Roman and Remus' tussle, watching a couple of movies, and other various shenanigans, Remus decided to gather everyone up in his room to play truth or dare.

If Patton learned anything from watching the others' turns, it was to always choose truth when Remus picks you.

"Double D, Truth or Dare?" Remus asked excitedly, even though he already knew what Janus would say.

"Dare."

Remus grinned like a shark. "I dare you and Patton to stay in my closet for one hour together."

Both Janus and Patton went pale.

"I...lied. I meant truth." Janus quickly said, hoping that Remus would let up.

"Nope! Too late! Now, you and Patton have to get in there, have hate sex or something, and come out in an hour!"

"Uh- we can't!" Patton exclaimed suddenly, and then all eyes were on him.

"What, are you afraid of the dark or something?" Remus teased.

"Um- no- well, kinda- but no. I- uh- have claustrophobia."

Janus looked shocked, to say the least. Thankfully, everyone was still looking at Patton.

"Yeah, small spaces are absolute torture to be in, and I would prefer it if none of us did stuff that involves small spaces, because then I'll worry about them!" Patton rambled quickly, trying to get all attention on him.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Ugh, fine. But you guys still need to do something together."

Patton blushed a bit, and Janus sighed, looking relieved.

Eventually, Remus gave up, and just dared Janus to eat shaving cream.

The rest of the night went smoother, and Patton ended up telling a lot of weird secrets, but not very important ones.

Eventually, everyone was asleep in either Roman's room, or Remus' room. Everyone except Patton, who couldn't get his brain to turn off.

Patton reluctantly got out of his sleeping bag, and made his way to the front door, maybe some fresh air would clear his mind.

Turns out, he wasn't the only one who had that idea, because as he stepped outside, he found the one and only Janus on the porch, smoking a cigarette.

Before Patton could turn back around, Janus saw him, and nodded his head in acknowledgment. Well, no going back now.

Patton silently sat down in the wooden rocking chair next to where Janus was standing, staring off into space a little before speaking up.

"You-you know that smoking is bad for you, right?"

Janus' lips curled up in a small smile as he chuckled. "I'm aware. Don't worry your pretty head, I only do it when I'm stressed."

Patton decided to ignore the way being called pretty by Janus felt and focused on the other part of that statement. "What are you stressed about?"

Janus blew out a puff of smoke, and suddenly Patton was very distracted by his lips.

"You. You're...different than how I thought you'd be." Janus said solemnly, drawing in another breath.

"Is...is that a bad thing?" Patton asked quietly, looking down to the floor.

Janus glanced at Patton with an indecipherable look on his face. "To be honest? I don't know. On one hand, you're actually a decent person."

"Thank you?"

"And on the other," Janus continued. "I've treated you like s**t for no reason other than spite."

"...It's okay-"

"It's not." Janus interrupted.

They sat in silence for awhile, trying to figure out if the other still wanted them here or not.

"Why did you think I was a bad person?" Patton asked quietly.

Janus huffed. "It's complicated."

"I mean...we got all night."

"...true." Janus sighed. "I think it's because ‘nice’ people don't usually want anything to do with me, and when they do, it's usually for the wrong reasons." He explained. "So when you started talking to me...I don't know, you reminded me of all the wrong people."

Patton's heart broke. He reminded Janus of some probably terrible memories, and had probably been hurting him just by being around him! No wonder Janus frowned whenever Patton walked in a room!

"Janus, I'm so so sorry, I never knew-"

"What are you sorry for?"

"I- That I remind you of some terrible people in your life-"

"Patton," Janus rest a hand on Patton's shoulder, making him blush. "You don't have any control over who you remind me of. Please, don't apologize for that."

"Well- then you can't apologize for being reminded of those people either!" Patton argued.

"I didn't say that, I said I was sorry for treating you terribly!"

"Well, then, I guess you're forgiven!" Patton retorted.

Janus looked at him in shock, as if Patton had just said a bunch of profanities, before quickly looking back to stare off into the distance again. His cheeks were red, but Patton convinced himself that he was probably cold out here.

"You're...too forgiving." Janus mumbled softly, as if he was talking to himself.

"I think that's a good thing." Patton replied.

Janus huffed. "...Thank you." He said, looking at Patton with a small smile on his face. "For everything."

Patton blushed. "Y-Yeah. No problem."

Janus looked at him with a disagreeing look on his face, but let it go.

They settled into comfortable silence as Janus threw his cigarette away and Patton almost fell asleep.

The second time Patton had to force his head up, Janus huffed.

"You should probably get to sleep."

As if on cue, Patton yawned. "So should you." He said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Janus chuckled. "Fine. I'll go back to bed if you do."

"Okay, fine. You have a deal."

Janus had that stupid, self-satisfied smirk on his face that he usually wore that made Patton feel fuzzy inside.

"Good," He smirked. "See you in the morning."

"Yeah. See ya."

Janus ventured into the house, Patton following a few moments later.

Patton felt like he was getting into dangerous territory with Janus, but instead of feeling concerned, he felt more excited than ever.

~~~~~

Hi guys!!!! Its been awhile! So, this is an au that ive fallen in love with, so i wanna keep writing for it! If you guys have any name ideas, send em my way please!

General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dles @tranquil-space-ninja @chaotic-murder-muffin @lugooble @sander-crossing @princess-rosie @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you @reptilian-with-scallions

Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #patton sanders #ts patton #janus sanders #ts janus #ts roman #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #kawaiikat54 fic #fanfiction

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soniaxdixon · 3 years

Text

My Girl

Word count: 1847

Set end of season 3 start of season 4ish

Summary: You and Daryl have an unspoken relationship and when a new girl comes to the prison, you let her know very clearly who Daryl is with.

Warnings: Swearing, TWD gore, reader is a bit hot headed.

Rick bringing the people of Woodbury to the prison was definitely a surprise to you all but in this day and age, strength came in numbers so you were lucky to have this many people now. The governor was still at large and no one had any idea where he could have possibly gone which meant that you all needed to be prepared. Most of the people from Woodbury where either older or didn’t know how to fight which was an issue. You were one of the best fighters among your group along with Daryl, Maggie, Glenn and of course Rick but Rick had other commitments which left the four of you to run lessons. Maggie and Glenn taught the newcomers how to use guns and knives while you and Daryl taught hand to hand classes. Most of your classes involved sparring and it always helped when there were even numbers of people but today Rick had brought in a new person who he had found on the road a few days ago. She was quite small and didn’t know how to fight at all, you wondered how she had survived this far.

Rick brought her over to you and Daryl once she had rested for a few days, she was now ready to learn to defend herself.

“You’re not gonna find better teachers than these two.” Rick led the girl over to you and Daryl, gesturing towards you as he spoke. You both walked up to meet the two of them in the middle of the field. “Mia, this is y/n and Daryl.” Her eyes flicked between the two of you, looking Daryl up and down far too many times for your liking.

You and Daryl had been in love with each other since the day you met, you shared a cell and everything but you still hadn’t technically made things ‘official.’ Your group liked to make jokes about how obvious your feelings were except you seemed to be oblivious to each other for so long.

You noticed Daryl’s breath hitch as her eyes slowly roamed his body, your stomach twisting in knots as you watched her practically undress him with her stare. You broke the silence, drawing her eyes back to you.

“How long you been out there”

“It’s been a while, since I lost my boyfriend I’ve been all alone.”

Her eyes flicked back to Daryl earning an eye roll from you. “Shame.”

Daryl cleared his throat, “Right, we better get started with the rest of em over there. Come on.”

You followed Daryl back over to the group, Mia standing close behind him like a lost puppy.

“Right, today we are working on getting out of someone’s grip. There may be times where someone grabs you, pins you, whatever, you need to be able to get out of it. Watch Daryl and I first, then buddy up and start practicing.”

You walked over to Daryl turning to face the group as he stood behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame, trapping your arms.

“This is where you would kick their shins or slam your head into their face. The shock should be enough to throw them off their game to which you should be able to rip your way out of their hold then turn and kick them until they’re down and keep them down. Your turn, find a partner and get started.”

Everyone had a partner except for Mia, she was walking over towards Daryl before you stepped in.

“Excuse me” She looked passed you her sites still set on Daryl.

“Just practice with me, let’s see what you got.”

“Don’t you think it would be better if I had someone bigger holding me to see if I can really get out of this situation?” She batted her eyelashes towards Daryl as she spoke. Was this girl for real? Couldn’t she take a hint?

“You know what, you’re so right.” Sarcasm dripped from your words.

Her smile grew as she started walking towards Daryl again.

“Hey Tyrese, can you give me a hand here for a second?” Your words stopped her in her tracks, anger taking over her face.

You stood back with Daryl and watched as everyone practiced what you had taught them, all except Mia who just wasn’t getting out of Tyrese’s grip.

Then sun began to set as you wrapped up the classes. “We’ll see you all tomorrow, same time, same place as always.”

You and Daryl began to walk back to the prison as your stomach’s growled.

“Any idea what we’re havin’ for dinner?” Daryl asked you but your mind remained focused on the girl staring at him.

“Hm? Oh um, I think Carol made a stew.”

You ate with the rest of your family before making your way over to the showers, Daryl heading up towards your shared cell. While you were in the shower, Mia took the opportunity to head over to your cell and chat with Daryl.

“Hey Daryl.”

“Hey, Mia right?”

“Yeah, I was wondering if you run one on one classes? I feel like I’ve missed a lot of training here and I thought it might be good to catch up.”

“We usually just run the group classes.”

“Oh. Would you be willing to maybe just help me out a bit then, I promise I’m a fast learner and I’ll do anything you tell me.” She had a devilish look to her when she spoke. Daryl chewed his thumb as he thought about her question. She seemed like she really just wanted to learn and it wouldn’t hurt to have her learn a few extra things.

“M’kay, meet me where we had class today, after breakfast.”

“Thank you!” She squealed as she made her way to her cell.

You got out of the shower, drying off and dressing into your pyjamas before you climbed the stairs up to your cell. By the time you got in there Daryl had changed and climbed under the covers, his arm covering his eyes. You couldn’t help but let your eyes roam over his toned arms.

“I know ya starin’ at me.” You giggled at his comment before climbing over him onto the other side of the bed, rolling over and facing the wall. He rolled onto his side and wrapped his arm around your waist pulling your body flush against his. You traced circles around his arm that was draped over you.

“What do you think about that new girl, Mia?” You asked him, your eyes remaining focused on the wall in front of you.

“She seems harmless.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Goodnight Daryl.”

“Mhm, night.”

You squeezed his arm before letting your arm slide back down onto the pillow under you, drifting to sleep with your archer behind you.

You woke up before Daryl, his arm was still wrapped around you, loose enough that you could slide out of his grip and shuffle off the bed. He stirred slightly as you climbed off the bunk.

“Where ya goin’?”

“I have fence duty, go back to sleep. I’ll see you for lunch.” You bent down and kissed him on the forehead before exiting your cell and making your way down to the fences.

After about an hour of stabbing walkers through the fence you saw Daryl walk out of the prison, you waved at him and he sent a smile your way. You turned back around and continued to take care of the walker issue.

“Hey y/n” The southern drawl you knew so well caught your attention.

“Hey Ricky.” You smiled cheekily, he hated when you called him that but part of him loved it, it showed how close the two of you were.

“How’d that new girl, Mia go at classes yesterday?”

“Not great, she needs a lot of work. Plus, I think she has a thing for Daryl and that’s not on.”

“Well you’re not gonna like this.” Your stomach dropped at his words.

“What?” He gestured over towards the middle of the field where Daryl and Mia were sparring. One on One.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” You glared at the two of them, your stomach twisting repeatedly when you could hear her giggles whenever Daryl would go to grab her.

“Go handle it, I got you covered for a bit.”

You stabbed one more walker through the head violently yanking your knife back out sending blood everywhere as you shook it and shoved it back in its sheath. You could feel your anger rise every time Daryl put his hands on her, you could see her leaning into his touch.

————

“Alright let’s try again.” Mia said, looking at Daryl with a spark in her eyes.

“M’kay one more time.” Daryl went to wrap his arms around her from behind but at the last second she turned and was facing him, her hands pressed up against his chest which caught him off guard as he stepped back. “What the hell?”

“Come on Daryl, we should have a bit of fun while we’re here.” She started leaning up towards him before he took another step back. “Don’t tell me you’re not attracted to me, I know you want me and I’ll give you everything and more. More than y/n can give you.”

“You’re fucking crazy, ya know that?”

She took a step towards him, placing her hands on his shoulder before his eyes met yours, you were now almost standing directly behind Mia and she was oblivious.

“My girl ain’t gonna like this.”

“She doesn’t have to know, I don’t see her anywhere.”

With that, you grabbed her hair and yanked her so hard she hit the floor. “Now you do.”

“y-y/n I-” She struggled to find words before you stood next to Daryl, looking down at her.

“You ever try anything again, you even think about trying anything again, I will personally tie you to a tree and let the walkers finish you off. Do you understand me?”

She gulped, “Yes”

“Good, now go and find someone else to teach you how to fight. I’m sick of seeing your face.”

She pushed herself off the floor and scurried towards the prison building.

Daryl went to grab your hand but you pulled away.

“Nuh uh. Not letting you off that easy asshole. What the hell were you thinking?”

“She asked for a one on one session to help her improve, I thought she was bein’ serious but obviously not.”

“Mhm.” You started to walk away from him before turning back “My girl, huh?” Daryl rubbed the back of his neck. “I like it.” You started to walk back down towards the fence to return to Rick as Daryl’s eyes focused on the swing in your hips.

He smiled sheepishly at the ground before following you like a lovesick teen. He was completely under your spell and would never have done anything with Mia. You knew that but you needed Mia to know who he was with and that he was not fair game.

She understood that now.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x grimes reader #you x daryl dixon #you x daryl #daryl x you #twd #twd fic #twd series #twd fic series #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fic #the walking dead imagine

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hexfloog · 3 years

Note

hex, my beloved, would you share your thoughts on the diplomat murder case with the class

Weeeelllll... if you insist, anon :3

Hex Goes Off(TM) again below the break, surpriiisssee

As it turns out, The Diplomat Murder Case is responsible for a lot of my current HCs about Shinichi/Conan. It's my favorite of the transformation arcs, it's the very first one-- and thus the hardest-hitting, at least when you get to experience it blind-- and also our introduction to transience as a theme, though admittedly I'm probably a bit biased here... Babby Hex has fond memories of sneaking out of bed to watch this one when it still had a slot on the early morning block, so I often come back to these two episodes wearing nostalgia glasses.

Branching off that, I should probably start by saying that for episodes 1-123, I am almost exclusively familiar with the Funimation dub only, which... as the fanbase knows... has its fair share of strange and silly localization choices. I personally find much of it charming and it has no effect on the story or its appeal for me... except when it does (more on that later).

So despite having lost track of how many times I've rewatched this case, my thoughts on it are actually quite scattered - it's the starting place for a lot of the DCMK ideas I currently subscribe to, but those ideas gained their traction in other places (cough, The Desperate Revival, cough), so I apologize beforehand if these aren't bookended well and also idk how to lead into them so IT'S LIST TIME

1) Vices and Expectations

At the time, the idea of Shinichi returning to normal-- let alone temporarily-- was likely one only being entertained by the audience as the setup for (if not the result of) the grand finale. I remember it surprising me, and it's a hell of a move to put forth such a scenario in the first place, only to take it back. Shinichi himself believes the transformation is permanent until it becomes... horribly apparent that it isn't. It's a nasty surprise for everyone, the nastiest of them all (being the very first in a long line of GOT 'EMs), and I think that as a result this is arguably the most powerless he's ever been in his own body, at least for a while. The depiction of the pain he endures is frightening (something I feel is lost in later transformations): freezing on the surface, but burning beneath the skin... like bones made of magma as they die within the flesh-- his heart beating out of his own chest, faster and faster, harder and harder as if to escape its own agony-- the world blurs, nausea takes hold, balance wavering-- 'This is no longer your fortress,' he hears it whisper in his ear... TBH how he can even think coherently at this stage is lost on me. It's shown to be a debilitating process of physical self-destruction and I don't believe for a second someone could acclimate to it, even after repeated transformations which is lowkey why it bothers me a bit that these feel less weighty as time goes on. Control is Shinichi's domain, and the uncertainty which plagues him as he painfully returns to Conan is a peek behind the curtain, a glimpse of the mortality he-- for all his bravado and cool, calm exterior-- is still very capable of realizing.

Although not nearly as dramatic as the next transformation, I personally find this to be a cruel little hint towards Shinichi's vices. Up til now we have not had many (any?) opportunities to explore what really-- and I mean really-- makes him tick. The recklessness he falls prey to when he thinks his old life is within reach again (see: literally every time he's tempted by The Antidote) is teased here-- not overtly, mind, but this first experience with temporary normalcy introduces the idea of hope to Shinichi's world, and the expectation that he can come back to it, actually, is suddenly set. Even if for a brief moment, we see the hands which have wound his potential to self-destruct...

2) Othering

I mentioned in a previous tirade post that the Funimation dub adds some interesting dialogue which is absent from the JP version:

"... From my own mouth, not his!"

...But is substantiated by dialogue which is present in the original:

"Am I turning back into that kid again?!"

"...With my real mouth... and my real voice..."

I find it so, so intriguing that this early on, it's already implied that Shinichi thinks of Conan as an entity separate from himself, despite that obviously not being the case and especially considering that-- here, at episode 49/50-- Conan hasn't really been present for long enough to establish himself as Conan (Ran sleuthing out his Real Identity is still a very real threat at this point, after all). Shinichi rarely mentions Conan by name throughout the case, in all other instances referring to him as something else-- "that kid with the glasses--" and... idk, to me that indicates shame, or fear, or resentment, and just reeks of plain animosity. I know for the sake of appearances he needed to Other Conan in front of Ran and Heiji, but when he's alone with his thoughts... it's not necessary to actively think of Conan like something to be hated unless he really feels that way, unless he really feels vexed by this child, this thing that is both him and not.

I dunno, I just find that fascinating. That one Funimation line is single-handedly responsible for this whole entire HC in my head ahahaaa

3) Heiji, and Hope

My angst-brain is constantly honing in on Shinichi, but The Diplomat Murder Case is pretty important for introducing Heiji, too!! Kaito won't see his DC debut for another twenty or so episodes, so imo it's Heiji, debuting as a rival detective, who first introduces the idea of a possible foil for Shinichi. This... obviously doesn't pan out this way-- quite the opposite-- and the entire premise of Heiji seeking out The Great Detective of the East as his "thousandth sword" only carries a lot more weight after the parallels to Benkei and Yoshitsune are made more plain in Crossroad in the Ancient Capital. So for all intents and purposes (especially since the Funimation dialogue was changed around quite a bit), Hattori's appearance here isn't particularly outstanding in itself aside from being his first, except...

...Except Heiji also introduces the baijiu here, the catalyst for this entire arc and my subsequent observations, the vehicle through which Shinichi becomes aware that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and the knowledge of which Conan repeatedly draws upon whenever the antidote comes up. Given that Heiji eventually discovers Shinichi's secret and, in their friendship, serves as one of his lifelines to his former self (as "companionship," in my head... more on that in another post, maybe), I find it... very striking that he would be the first one to deliver him hope. Good God.

Like Kaito, I want to think about Heiji more in-depth too, but there are better episodes for it... Murderer, Shinichi Kudo

eeeEEEEE okay i'm done tysm for letting me screm anon this case has a special place in my top ten aaAAAaaaahaha

#ask #anon #dcmk #detective conan #kudou shinichi #shinichi kudo #headcanon #internal screaming hours #text #the diplomat murder case #long post #hattori heiji

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emersonfreepress · 3 years

Note

ok ok in the spirit of community, how would the ros fair in a paintball war?

(referring to this ask! like the zombie au post this ended up making me think a lot 😅)

ohh... interesting, interesting... p sure the only paintball wars i’ve really seen were the ones featured in The League, Peep Show, and Community... but let me wrack my lil head...

ok, i ended up coming at this from multiple angles like the zombie au post 😅 always so much to consider in battle environments! and in the spirit of community, I'll stick with the individual player elimination style paintball match. in the woods with other e prep seniors. last one standing wins bragging rights

Gabe

Shooting skill | 6/10 - Experience with shooting and practice with Kile ofc

Stealthiness | 8/10 - He's done a fair amount of sneaking around during his after school activities, is super observant (or just paranoid lol), and naturally light on his feet. Good luck ambushing him.

Strategy | 8/10 - Strike deals. Do favors. Form alliances. Shoot 'em in the back once they’ve outlived their usefulness. ...What? It’s just paintball.

How does he win? | Graciously. Gabe likes winning, and especially via strategic manipulation, so it puts a smile on his face. And he's in a good mood so he treats a bunch of you to ice cream or smth 👀

How does he lose? | Slumps in frustration at being outwitted or taken off-guard, sulks about it for a little while. He's not that sore of a loser but needs time to lick his wounds and stop thinking of the different choices he could have made.

Kile

Shooting | 9 - The most accurate shooter of the cast and easily one of the best shots at E Prep. Lots of practice + talent

Stealth | 10 - They're stupid good at climbing trees and 100% consider that a valid method of ambushing their classmates. People start having flashbacks to 3rd and 4th grade recess and P.E. Scanning the trees. They just start taking people out with such efficiency it quickly starts ruining the game 😂

Strategy | 0? 10?? - “...Strategy? You just stay out of sight and kill 'em all, right?” (immediately scolded by Gabe for word choice 🙄) They really do mainly stay out of sight and pick people off with max stealth, like 😆 they'd be such a terror, people would need to take them out early for anyone else to stand a chance! They spend a lot of the game staking out the most frequented paths in the area and taking out groups quickly, all at once. Then they'll get around to stalking and picking people off one by one. The real fun...

Winner type | Stoic. Likes winning combat but the stakes were non-existent, so... the win is meaningless! this just infuriates the losers more 😅 such disrespect

Loser type | Sucks their teeth and tosses their paintball gun to the ground. "Y'all suck." (they're over it five mins later tho lol)

Jack

Shooting | 3 - This is nothing like shooting light guns... ☹️

Stealth | 5 - Not just due to his size making him an easier target, but homeboy is liable to get distracted by a cute squirrel or some pretty flowers 😂 He's not great at keeping his voice down either so good conversation would make him easy to seek out. He's just out here enjoying a beautiful day 😅

Strategy | 7 - All that movie-watching (and DMing) make him a valuable creative mind for problem-solving, but he needs a cooperative team to be effective. Rescued and recruited by Rupan/Rohan early on in the game ^ ^

Winner type | Disbelief! And everyone’s content and satisfied with him winning. Except Vivian/Vincent, that jealous fool

Loser type | Doesn't mind losing at all! He just hopes he was a good teammate and was glad to have fun ☺️

Jessie

Shooting | 7 - Comes from a family of hunters, girly knows how to shoot.

Stealth | 6 - Familiar enough with woods and stalking prey to be capable of sneaking around. Having too much fun to not giggle and get overly invested in the developing plot of the game. Even more easily distracted by critters and flora than Jack 😅

Strategy | 5 - Oh, she's just here to have fun. She'll go with whatever the person she's teaming up with decides, but can adapt easily enough.

Winner type | Surprised... then elated! Bouncing and happy and it's completely contagious. No hard feelings about a single thing. Convinces Heidi to invite people to the Emerson Estate—it's a hot day and they have a nice pool

Loser type | Same as Jack! Congratulates the winner with a hug because she's sweet like that 🧁

Rain

Shooting | 2 - This... thing is so cumbersome. And ugly. At least it shoots pretty colors.

Stealth | 7 - Small and used to sneaking around different environments and seeking out hiding spots. Their height and frame makes them harder to spot too.

Strategy | 4 - Hide!!! They’re not getting assaulted with paint and pellets!! Especially not after managing to make this ugly jumpsuit look cute?? Waiting it out is perfectly legitimate. Might share snacks if you decide to join them in hiding 😆

Winner type | Falls asleep in an unexpectedly cozy hiding spot and emerges as everyone thought they’d declared the winner. I imagine R and others yelling at them to get their gun while the original winner scrambles to get theirs, just for Rain to win by pure luck of the draw. Won’t stop them bragging about it, though! (I want this spurned runner-up to be Vi bc ofc)

Loser type | "So I can stop holding this thing?" Yawn. "I'm so hungry and bored, we've been at this for hours..."

Rupan/Rohan

Shooting | 4 - Ah, shit. These don't shoot anything like light guns.

Stealth | 7 - They sneak out and around town a lot 😂 They just force themself to be careful about how loud grass and bushes are.

Strategy | 7 - They’re treating this shit like an action movie and banding together a ragtag team of misfits to take down the strongest alliances and players. Savvy enough to reject Gabe’s and Curt’s offers to join, not opposed to strategic backstabs. They're very clearly just as focused on having fun as they are on winning—and playing Predator, which honestly works with Kile runnin around. They even brought war paint and borrowed a tactical vest. Is it mostly packed with snacks and weed? Maybe. Does it prove useful for negotiations? Hell yeah.

Winner type | Raucous celebration, just pure joy and adrenaline ☺️ Celebrates with their team, brags a bit, rubs it into Vi's face, makes fun of Curt, the usual. Then invites allies out to get pizza because it's the obvious next step

Loser type | Mostly disappointed they can't keep playing. They're a little sore about being left out of the action, but soon just start chatting with other marked players about how the game went for them. Plenty entertaining on its own, they want all the details

Vivian/Vincent

Shooting | 5 - They've got a little bit of shooting experience.

Stealth | 4 - They're overly sensitive and hate being in nature. Their skin is sticky, they keep feeling bugs everywhere, they've gotten dirt all over their pants, it's so hot, they keep WALKING into SPIDERWEBS, [flails about, screaming furiously]

Strategy | 8 - They have good ideas, they're just difficult to execute alone, especially since they're getting sunburnt and getting crankier and can't stop swatting at insects 😅 they're one of the first people to figure out that someone's taking out groups from the trees, so they stay solo and try to find a single person to team up with. Really what they need is someone who's a better shot but easy to boss around. They can probably just owe them for an in-school favor...

Winner type | Barely suppressed gloating. Vi somehow finds a way to be an obnoxious winner almost entirely by the look on their face. Once they're in a smaller group, they're passionately discussing the details of the game and happily boasting about their triumphs (while glossing over all of the whining and and slip-ups lol)

Loser type | Booo, such a sore loser. (Especially in the scenario where Rain wins 🤣) If they're outsmarted or outgunned in a clear, transparent way they'll growl and stomp off, then quietly glower and sulk for way too long. If they're double-crossed or beaten in an underhanded way oh lord —they're fighting it to the end. R can't help but get involved either way, reminding them it was a damn game with literally no prize. "C'mon, Vi, chill. You want ice cream? Let's get you ice cream."

Heidi

Shooting | 6 - Some shooting experience.

Stealth | 8 - She's very aware of her surroundings and her body. Perceptive yet quiet. Tactical. All residual traits picked up from her many activities over the years.

Strategy | 9 - Most likely to outsmart everyone. The first one to figure out groups are being targeted from the trees. Goes it alone and only open to trading (unless she sees Curt with Jess in which case she puts a quick pin in her plans to rescue her 😂). She also immediately figures out it's Kile, because ofc it is. Keeps close tabs on what groups are doing, knowing that eventually Kile will come down to ground level to pick off individuals and couples. Predator becomes prey 👀

Winner type | Proud but not boasting. She doesn't need to be. Victory looks good on her, natural and fitting. Thanks everyone for a good game then takes the girls for a long ride in the Cadillac 😎 top down on a bright day, baby

Loser type | Damn. She should have won this. Maybe if she'd... She probably could have... Then she snaps out of it, roped in by the celebratory mood of congratulating the winner. She's over any feelings of frustration or regret after getting to discuss the match with the person that took her out/the winner and there's no hard feelings. If anything this was fun as hell, it should be an annual thing. ☺️

Curt

Shooting | 8 - Some shooting experience and a natural knack for it. Good reflexes.

Stealth | 8 - Curt likes to say he gets along with the woods around these parts. Sneaking around is second nature to him. Really good hearing too. He's an easy target if you manage to seduce him though, having no issue leaving himself vulnerable if it means that kind of fun 😂

Strategy | 7 - Honestly, he's most interested in seeing how long he can get away with using charm and seduction for both protection and double-crossing 😂 Eventually becomes persona non grata and gets all of his ammo stolen by a vengeful mark, barely getting away in the process. Since that jig is up, he finally starts thinking a win might be nice... and so he teams up with the only competent player who would never betray him and also inspires the least vitriol in others: Jessie. What? Is his back-up plan using her as a human shield? No! 😚 Of course not! 👉👈

Winner type | Insufferable and gloating. Rubs it in a lot of people's faces, specifically Heidi, Rupan/Rohan, and any participants who genuinely don't like him. Brags to Gabe (who is completely disinterested in gassing him up 😂), then promises he'll make things up to Jessie (who didn't mind and had fun lol). Then celebrates by asking whoever he's flirting with these days for a quick date—and a ride in the Ferrari. Makes a scene pulling out of the parking lot. Ass.

Loser type | Doesn't care one bit as long as he had fun! And he always finds a way to have fun, it's why he's so carefree 😅

#lovely anon #answered #ROs #scenarios #someone pls confirm that kile is using paint pellets thx #I can totally see myself writing this out as a an actual short story 😂#maybe as a kofi reward whenever I get that set up 🤞🏾#I don't think any of these are incomplete...

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the-karma-cafe · 4 years

Text

drunk!reader x obey me

a/n: i said, yknow what ? i am gonna simp for every goddamn character in this game. so naturally my hand slipped n i wrote mindless stuff for all of them. sorry for the weird jumping around - i wanted to get to as many characters as i could

My head slowly nodded above the counter, the alcohol taking hold of my body. I hummed, gulping down the last of my drink.

I felt something touch my hair and I looked over, squinting at the person beside me. “Asmo?” I asked.

“Aww, looks like someone can’t hold their drink, hm?” Asmodeus cooed, twirling a strand of my hair around his slender finger.

I mustered up a small smile. “You got me.” I lifted up my head to look around at everyone else. They sat at different places in the room, but all mingled happily in varying degrees of intoxication.

I went to prop up my head with my hand, missing the first time. “You’re all so pretty. I dunno how I function most of the time.”

Asmo blinked, watching me carefully. “Who do you think is the prettiest?”

I gave a short laugh. “I don’t think you want to hear the answer to that one.”

“Whaat~! If not me then who!” He whined loudly, attracting the attention of a couple of the others.

I felt an arm come to a rest on my head none too gently. My head stumbled from its perch on my hand and I glared up at the offending demon. Mammon grinned down at me, “Figures you’d get drunk first, MC.”

I fingered his tie before abruptly pulling him down to my eye level. “Wanna say that to my face?”

Bright red filled his cheeks, his eyes darting from my eyes to my lips and back again. “Uh,” he started smartly.

Asmodeus clapped gleefully. “Ooh~ They’re sexy when they’re drunk. We should do this more often.”

I ignored him, releasing Mammon from my hold and ruffling his hair instead. So soft... “I’m teasing. ‘Course I’d be the first to go off the deep end.” I giggled softly.

His blush only increased. He cleared his throat, backing away from me. “Right, heh, I knew that. As if you could intimidate the great Mammon anyway.” He scoffed, looking away to take a deep swig of his drink.

Barbatos appeared in front of us from behind the bar. He smiled kindly. “Looks like I’ll be cutting you off for the night.” He swiped my glass from me to go clean it.

“Wha~!” I whined at him, making grabby motions for my glass. “That’s not fair, everyone else gets theirs!”

“You’re starting to sound like Levi.” Belphie yawned, taking my hand lightly. His thumb smoothed slow circles over the back, calming me slightly.

I smiled up at him wordlessly, a little dazed, squeezing his hand back.

Levi frowned in response, muttering something like, “I don’t sound like that,” but was ignored.

Barbatos turned back around, cleaning the glass with a rag. “I’m afraid that’s just the way it is! Diavolo’s orders.”

I smiled shyly, walking my fingers across the counter towards him. “Any way I could convince you?”

Mammon did a spit-take and Barbatos’s eyes widened. An amused smile teased his lips. He gently grasped my hand, pulling it up to his face. He brushed a kiss across my knuckles, winking. “Maybe another time, MC.”

Mammon shouted nonsense in the background. Pink dusted across my features. “Oho, I see you, Barb~” I fluttered my fingers at him.

He straightened up and nodded politely, returning to the sink behind him.

A spoon poked my cheek. I frowned, glancing to my side. Asmodeus was gone and had been replaced by Beelzebub. A bowl of steaming soup sat in front of him. He looked at me expectantly.

I sniffed it. It smelled heavenly. I took the spoon into my mouth, greedily drinking its contents. Beel smiled approvingly. Mammon almost burst a blood vessel behind us, being held back by Asmodeus. “What is that?” I asked, intrigued.

He took another sip. “Soup. Barbatos said the stuff in it helps prevent hangovers. Figured you’d need some.”

“Awww~” I leaned closer. “You take such good care of me, Beel. What would I do without you?”

His eyes glanced from his soup to my eyes to my lips. “Um,” he muttered. “Probably be hungry.”

I smiled fondly, tapping his nose lightly. “You’re adorable.”

A light blush rose in his cheeks. “Oh.. thank you. You… look tasty?”

It was my turn to blush. I knew he didn’t register that remark as anything other than food-related but I couldn’t stop the thoughts from snaking into my mind. I smirked, my gaze dropping to his lips. “Wanna find out?”

His eyes widened and his lips parted to say something, but he was interrupted by a rather loud slap. I whirled around, or tried, to see Satan hitting Mammon upside the head. “Be quiet, what’s all the fuss about?”

I giggled, drawing his attention. His gaze softened. “Ah, I see. And here you said you were going to control yourself tonight.”

I pushed up from my seat, wobbling slightly. His hands jumped to steady me. I smiled gratefully, bringing my arms up to rest on his shoulders. “You’re so sweet, Satan~” I chuckled. “Pfft, that’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.”

The faintest blush decorated his cheeks, his hands finding my waist. “I can’t imagine why.” He teased, cracking a smile.

I squealed, bringing my hands forward to cup his cheeks. “You’re so cute!! Gah, I can’t take it.” His blush darkened a bit, his head slightly leaning into my touch. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Nope! Can’t take that much cuteness at once. Sorry~”

I felt him rumble with laughter. “I can’t really take offense to that.”

He glanced up to see Lucifer marching over, a particularly murderous look on his face. Satan’s smile curled into an impish grin. He pulled me close without warning, earning a small yelp from me. My hands flew from his face to behind him, grasping at the back of his neck for stability. My eyes snapped open to stare up at him. My face turned redder than it already was. “Well I know I didn’t just get a hug for no reason.” I threaded my fingers through his hair, watching curiously as his eyes slightly lulled close at the touch. “What’s the occasion?”

He smirked, “Guess.”

I turned in his grasp to see Lucifer walking towards us. I smiled toothily, waving at the stronger demon. “Hey-o, Lucy~”

Lucifer paused in his tracks, staring at me incredulously. Mammon burst out laughing. “Lucy! Hah, that’s rich!” Levi and Asmodeus shared in his laughter. A couple of the others hid grins of their own.

Satan squeezed me lightly. “Cute.” He whispered, his breath tickling my ear. I shivered, involuntarily leaning towards his warmth.

Lucifer resumed his angry stride. I squinted, barely seeing an outline of purple around him. He approached Satan and cleared his throat. Apparently, he didn’t have an idea for what to do when he actually got here. Satan smirked. “What, you want ‘em?”

He nodded. “Clearly you all cannot be trusted with them.” He grabbed my arm, twirling me into his chest. I thudded against him, my hands feeling at his chest in wonder. Is Lucy just rock? Are all demons made of rock? Is Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson a demon? No way, he’s too pure for that… or is he……… “I will take them back to their room.”

I snapped from my thoughts at that. “No!” I protested, squirming in his grasp. “I wanna stay!”

Lucifer peered down at me, thinly-veiled concern clouding his gaze. “You must be tired?” He asked.

I shook my head wildly, pinning him with a pleading look. His expression and grasp on me softened further as I ran my hands up his chest. “No! Super awake. Please let me stay. Pleeeaaase~?” I wheedled, hoping puppy-dog eyes worked on him.

Lucifer held my gaze for a beat, his eyes tracing my features worriedly, before sighing in acquiescence. I hopped up happily, kissing him on the cheek and wrapping him up in a hug. “Thank you, Lucy~” I cooed into his ear, feeling him shudder a bit beneath me. He patted my back mechanically and I pulled away, my eyes settling on Diavolo a bit behind Lucifer.

“Deee-ah-vo-lo~” I grinned, skipping up to him.

His eyes sparkled with interest as he considered me. “Yes, MC? You’re enjoying your time here this evening, I take it?”

I nodded brightly “Of course I am.” I paused, biting my lip. “I wish I got to see you more often, Dee.”

He blinked. “Dee?” He echoed.

My hands flew to my mouth. “Oh no! I’m sorry, Diavolo is such a mouthful I’ve taken to just referring to you as ‘Dee’ in my head. I’m so sorry!”

Diavolo chuckled goodnaturedly. “That’s fine, MC. It’s a cute nickname.”

“For a cute demon.” I winked.

He nodded, playing along. “Precisely.”

“What, he gets a cute nickname but I don’t?” Levi muttered behind me, just loud enough for me to hear, although I doubted that was intentional. I turned and advanced on him. He blinked in surprise, slightly red at the attention. “Oops, did I say that out loud?”

I nodded, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Yep! But worry not! You already have a cute nickname, Levi-chan.” I affectionately tacked on the honorific. This pacified him slightly.

“That does sound cuter.” He nodded approvingly.

I held up a hand. “Of course it does!” Levi’s eyes brightened as he slapped my hand in a high-five. His following fist pump of victory launched him into a spiel about his newest animated obsession.

Solomon and Simeon approached, polite smiles decorating their handsome features. I nearly swooned. “Hello, MC.” Simeon greeted, his eyes dancing mirthfully over my current state.

I nodded weakly. “You guys are very pretty.”

Solomon’s eyebrows raised at that. “Not the greeting I expected, but,” he smoothed his features over, “not unwelcome~” he teased.

Simeon chuckled. “Aren’t you charming. It’s taking a lot to resist inviting you up to my room tonight~”

My face glowed red. “O-Oh, holy shit you are way too attractive for me to know how to respond to that coolly.”

He barked a laugh. “You’ll always be cool to me, MC.”

“Thank you!”

Mammon broke free of Asmo’s grasp and interrupted the conversation, circling me in his arms. “No touchin’! Grrr!” He growled at the non-demons.

I tugged at Mammon’s tie again, making him squeak a bit. He bent over my shoulder. “What’d I do this time!” I turned my head to face him.

And promptly pressed a kiss to his lips.

My stomach somersaulted, either from the alcohol or the kiss. Some whoops could be heard around us, mostly from Simeon and Diavolo. Mammon sprang into action, bringing me closer to him, his hands finding my waist. I played with the soft hair at the nape of his neck, feeling him hum happily in response.

A hand pulled Mammon from me. Lucifer frowned at him disapprovingly. Mammon’s expression was downright giddy. “I got a kiss.” He boasted proudly, puffing out his chest. “None o’ y’all can say that, heh!”

Satan spoke up from his seat on the couch next to us. “Well I definitely won’t be bested by you.” He seized my wrist and pulled me down into his lap.

“Oh!” I exclaimed in surprise. One of his slender fingers guided my chin up towards his face.

His eyes glittered as he looked down at me. “Can I kiss you, MC?” I nodded eagerly. He poorly hid his victorious smirk and caught my lips with his. I melted in his embrace, shifting on him to card my fingers through his hair.

Mammon shrieked in dismay beside us.

Thin but strong arms pried me off of Satan. I sighed at the loss. “What was that for~” I whined, “put me back.” I made grabby hands at Satan. He was blushing! He smiled, waggling his fingers at me.

My attacker whirled me around, almost making me nauseous. Asmodeus faced me, a small frown tugging at his lips. “Don’t tell me you think Satan is the prettiest of all of us. I mean, c’mon, MC! Look at me!” He gestured at himself confidently. “I bet you want a kiss from me, too, huh?”

I shrugged. “I’ll kiss anyone here.”

His eyes widened at this. “Really?”

“Have you seen the people here? Is that rhetorical?”

“Point taken!” He laughed. “Free MC kisses!” He shouted to the group, earning some head-turns. Mammon sulked in the corner, growing mushrooms.

Asmodeus cupped my face sweetly. “Aww, you look so cute with your face all red like this.” His face neared and he pressed our lips together. Immediately he tried to deepen the kiss, a welcome outcome for me, but was pushed aside. “Hey I wasn’t done~!” He complained.

Before me was Beel. He held up another spoonful of soup. “Less kissing, more eating.”

I grinned. “If I take another bite will you kiss me?” I spoke mostly just to tease him. Mostly.

He blinked, growing pink again. “Oh… alright.” He fed me another spoonful, his lips following the hot soup soon after. I hummed into him. Delicious. I tugged at his jacket, desperate for more. He indulged me, but kept the soup level in his hand behind me. His tongue slipped into my mouth curiously and I gasped, pulling away from him when I remembered the people watching. He frowned at the loss, licking his lips. “I was right. You are tasty.”

I laughed. “Pretty sure that’s just the soup, but thanks.”

“That’s enough.” A gruff voice spoke up. I felt my world spin as I was swept into someone’s arms. Lucifer held me bridal style. “This ridiculous game ends now. I am putting MC to bed.”

Some boos resounded throughout the room and I giggled, waving to no one in particular. “I’ll kiss you later~!” I reassured everyone. I earned whoops in response and grinned widely.

Lucifer scoffed and swept me from the room.

It was much quieter outside and I felt the fatigue of the night start to set in. I yawned, readjusting in his arms. My eyes fluttered closed. “You don’t mind, do ya, Luce?”

He glanced down at me fondly. “Of course not.” He whispered so softly I barely caught it.

I smiled in response. “Yer just a big softie. Y’ain’t slick.”

His chest grew a bit rigid against me. “I am not.. a ‘softie.’”

“Mhm.”

Lucifer frowned at that. He nudged open the door to my room and cast me on the bed unceremoniously. “Oof!” I looked up at him through lidded eyes. “That could’ve been sweeter.”

He grinned condescendingly. “I did say I wasn’t a softie.”

I rolled my eyes. “C’mere ya big softie.” I grabbed his tie and yanked him down to my level. He made a small noise of surprise in his throat, his gaze catching mine. I grinned impishly. “Aw, I’ve got you right where I want you. Now what’re you gonna do?”

A low growl bubbled up from his chest. He pushed me onto the bed and climbed atop me in one swift movement. I gasped. His face was even closer to mine now, a confident smirk twisting his lips. “I should be the one saying that.”

My eyes dropped to his lips. “Can I kiss you now?”

He chuckled. “You’ve been doing a lot of that tonight, are you sure you can handle more?”

I scoffed. “It’s a kiss not sex I think I’ll be oka-“

He cut me off with a searing kiss and I sighed into his mouth happily. I could fall asleep like this. Another wave of fatigue washed over me. Oh… I am going to fall asleep like this.

As if reading my mind, Lucifer parted from me. “I’ll have someone bring you something in the morning for your hangover.” My eyes slid shut and I hummed noncommittally. I felt his soft lips touch my forehead and I smiled, snuggling into my sheets.

“Goodnight, MC.”

a/n: can you tell who my favorites are dskfh

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Text

life is just a classroom

A 6k addition to this verse with Teacher!Cas and Teacher!Dean

Jody has never seen her staff with their heads so far up their own asses. They get one reasonably attractive new hire, and everyone is acting more like gossiping, horny teenagers than sane, I-am-responsible-for-multiple-children, teachers. Luckily, Jody’s the principal and expert in wrangling children and adults of all maturity levels.

But this, as Bobby used to say, is too early for this shit.

It’s 7:00 am, and if Jody has to hear one more word about Castiel Novak and his brooding stare and baby blue eyes, she’s going to dump her coffee all over Daphne Allen’s head. It’s not like the Teachers Lounge hasn’t seen more than its fair share of spilled coffee. The brown-ish grey-ish carpet is more for utility than aesthetics, and is probably older than Jody herself.

“I’ve been trying to find out more about him, but he’s so reserved,” Daphne is saying. She sighs. “I’ve always been a sucker for the strong, silent types.”

Jody rolls her eyes and adds more sugar to her coffee.

“I think he mentioned he was actually a student here,” Kelly says, leaning in conspiratorially, “the same year as Dean.”

“No way,” Daphne breathes.

Jody dumps in more sugar.

“Has Dean mentioned anything about him? Is he single?”

For Christ’s sake. It’s the second day of school - Jody is very confident her teachers have better things to do than cross boundaries with new colleagues.

Daphne frowns. “No, he hasn’t. But Castiel definitely doesn’t wear a ring.”

Kelly rolls her eyes. “Would I even be talking about him if I thought he was married?”

Jody clears her throat, saying loudly, “Well, I’d better get back to work. Morning announcements will start soon.”

Both Kelly and Daphne jump guiltily.

Pleased, Jody strides out of the Teachers Lounge, nearly running into Donna. “Here,” she says, pressing the coffee into her hands. “I put too much sugar in it anyway.”

“Oh, hey, thanks Jody-o!” Donna beams.

Jody jerks her head towards Daphne and Kelly, heads ducked together and clearly already back to it. “Watch out for ‘em. They’ll get you sucked in gossiping about the new hire.”

“That Castiel?” Donna asks, her eyes lighting up. “He’s such an angel.”

“Not you too,” Jody grumbles as she stalks out. She has a school to run.

* * *

“Bonne journée, tout le monde.” Castiel waves his students out. “Etudiez bien pour le quiz la semaine prochaine! Si vous avez besoin d’aide, n'hésitez pas à venir me voir.”

Daphne lets the juniors stream past her, steels herself, and knocks on the door.

“Oui?” he asks without looking up.

Daphne swallows nervously. “Castiel?”

Castiel straightens, and holy hell, those eyes are so blue. “Hello,” he says, “I’m sorry, I thought you were a student.”

“No worries at all,” Daphne says with tittering laugh. “I was just wondering if you wanted to get a drink?”

“A drink?” Castiel echoes.

“To celebrate the end of the first week?” Daphne adds. “Kelly, Aaron, and I have a little tradition.”

“I see,” Castiel says, sounding taken aback. He fiddles with the strap of his bag before slinging it over his shoulder.

As the seconds drag on without a response, Daphne frowns. Is he going to refuse? Daphne had told Kelly this was a stupid plan -

“Can I bring Dean?” he asks.

Daphne blinks. “Dean? Yes, of course,” she says, mentally recalibrating her assessment of Edlund High's newest Latin/French teacher. He and Dean must be closer than she had assumed from their interactions in the Language Office. Maybe Castiel is less the stoically reserved type and more the shy, socially awkward wallflower. Her heart melts, so she adds, “the more the merrier.”

“Wonderful,” Castiel says, smiling. “What time?”

“We were thinking of leaving in like an hour,” Daphne says, “but you can also meet us there - Fizzle’s Folly? It’s on Water Street.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows at the name.

Daphne giggles. “Garth’s wife - have you met Garth? He teaches Chem - owns it. There’s a whole story there, but I can tell you later, if you like.”

Castiel smiles. “I’d like that, thank you.” He hefts his shoulder bag higher. “I grew up here, but it’s been a number of years since I spent a long time in this school district. I don’t remember a Fizzle’s Folly.”

“It used to be called Fenris,” Daphne says as they walk out.

Castiel’s brow furrows. “Wasn’t that a biker bar?”

“Yup, that’s the one,” Daphne says, nodding to Krissy Chambers and her friend Josephine as they pass by. “It underwent a little bit of a makeover when Garth and Bess took over.”

“So no bikers?”

“Not unless you count Garth,” Daphne says, grinning, as she pushes open the door to the Language Office. “He owns a motorcycle, if you can believe - oh, hey, Dean.”

Dean glances up from his desk at Daphne’s acknowledgement. “Hey,” he says slowly, his eyes flicking from Castiel to Daphne and back again. “What’s up?”

“Daphne invited me out for drinks,” Castiel says as Dean’s eyebrows rise, “Would you like to come?”

Dean’s mouth purses. “Wouldn’t want to be an imposition.”

“I already asked,” Castiel says as Daphne nods once.

And maybe in a week, once Daphne and Castiel know each other better, they can get drinks alone together. Or Kelly can get drinks alone with him. Daphne won’t fight Kelly for him, and Kelly won’t fight her. He’s not a piece of meat, as Kelly is all too fond of reminding if they go too far after too many margaritas.

After a beat, Dean says in a funny voice, “Okay then.”

Daphne walks around the both of them to get to her desk. “Aaron’s going to be there, if that matters,” she says without looking up.

“Aaron?” Castiel asks curiously.

“History teacher,” Dean says at the same time that Daphne provides, “Dean’s ex.”

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose as Castiel turns to him.

“Not an ex,” Dean grumbles. “We had a thing. Briefly. Years ago. It was before-” he coughs, “anyway.”

“I see,” Castiel deadpans.

Daphne frowns, meeting Castiel’s gaze over Dean’s head. “We are a LGBTQ friendly school,” she says sharply. “Dean runs the Gay-Straight-Alliance. If you have any… issues with that, I’d recommend talking to Jody before we leave.”

Dean looks oddly touched. “Thanks, Daph.”

Castiel just shakes his head. “I’m not homophobic. Dean can attest to that.”

“He had a boyfriend in high school,” Dean says with a grin.

Daphne’s face heats up embarrassingly quickly. “Ah - good for you.”

It’s not the end of the world. He could be bi, like Dean.

* * *

Aaron’s glad Dean and Castiel are here, if just to steer the conversation away from all the boy talk. He always has a good time with Kelly and Daphne, but, damn, they can really fixate. Lately, all they’ve been focusing on is Castiel, which, Aaron can kind of get behind - even though, obviously, Dean is more his type.

Thankfully they’ve cooled it with Castiel actually in the room with them.

Poor dude looks in over his head by the time they’re all sipping their second round of drinks. That’s probably why, when Aaron offers to get refills and snacks, Castiel jumps up to assist, quick on his heels.

Daphne and Kelly’s eyes follow Castiel’s ass to the bar. Sometimes they really are shameless.

“You doing okay?” Aaron asks after he’s flagged down the bartender.

“Oh yes,” Castiel says, bobbing his head in a nod. “It’s just… I don’t get out often.”

“I know they can be a bit much,” Aaron says, jerking his head back at their table. “If you want them to cool it with the questions, just say so.”

“I don’t mind.”

Aaron makes a face but doesn’t comment further. It’s Castiel’s funeral if he wants to keep playing into Kelly and Daphne’s hands like silly putty. Aaron warned the guy. He did his job to uphold bros before hos - even if Castiel is barely a bro and Aaron co-ran Kelly's campaign for City Council and let her cry into his shoulder when she lost, and he went to church with Daphne for a couple weeks because she knew her abusive ex-boyfriend was going to be there.

Mom practically had a heart attack when she heard about the Church thing through the grapevine, which stunned Aaron to no end because, of all his siblings, he was the only one who actually followed up on his threat to get kicked out of Hebrew school. Organized religion has never been his thing, anyway. Two Sundays with Kelly sandwiching Daphne in the pews wasn’t going to change that.

Moreover, it’s not like Aaron's never leaned on the girls for help. Daphne called her second-cousin, the cardiologist, to give a third-opinion on Dad's diagnosis. Kelly let Aaron sleep on her couch for a month because she lived across the street from the hospital. They listened to him whine about his unrequited thing for Dean Winchester when everything else in his life was going to hell. Speaking of-

“So you know Dean pretty well?” Aaron asks casually.

Castiel freezes.

“You keep staring at him,” Aaron says.

“I -”

“Relax,” Aaron says as he leans back against the bar. “Been there.”

Castiel purses his lips. “Daphne did mention you were… involved.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” Aaron says, since Daphne could’ve been a lot more damning in her assessment. “We slept together a couple of times. I was feeling it - he wasn’t - and that was the end of that.”

“Oh,” Castiel says, looking relieved. He glances at Aaron out of the corner of his eye. “And do you still… like him?”

Aaron snorts. “I mean, we’re not in middle school. It’s a little more complicated.”

Castiel’s brows draw together in a forbidding frown.

“I was just gonna say,” Aaron supplies quickly, “do I still think he’s hot? Yes, I have eyes. Do I want to marry him and push my mother over the edge by marrying a guy and a goy? Not anymore.”

Castiel settles back down, and Aaron makes a mental note not to piss him off anytime soon. “A word of advice?” he says as he turns back around to grab their drinks, “Don’t insult his car - or Led Zeppelin - or his brother.”

Surprised, Castiel takes a moment before laughing. “Or pie.”

“No quicker way to get your name on Dean Winchester’s shit list,” Aaron agrees. He surveys Castiel again. “So you know him pretty well already?”

Castiel shrugs. “We went to high school together.”

“Kelly mentioned,” Aaron says. “What was he like?”

“Dean?”

“No, Gary Busey,” Aaron says, rolling his eyes, “of course Dean.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “Very similar to how he is now,” he says, which doesn’t tell Aaron much. “Charming. Caring. Intelligent in the strangest of ways.” Castiel pauses. “Handsome.”

“Yeah, that does sound like him,” Aaron agrees. He’s been on the receiving end of Dean’s charm offensive once or twice. It’s always left his head spinning.

Interrupting his train of thought, “Hey!” Dean calls shamelessly across the bar. “What are you two alte kakers up to?”

Aaron waves him off, unable to hide his smile at Dean’s casual Yiddish. He only picked up two or three words from Aaron, back when Aaron dove head-first into his ill-advised thing with Dean so he didn’t have to think about all the other shit going on in his life. “Here, grab the sides will you?” Aaron asks Castiel. “I think we’ve left Dean alone with them for long enough.”

Castiel dutifully picks up the mozzarella sticks and fries as Aaron double-checks his tray of glasses won’t topple over.

“Watch who you’re calling old men,” Aaron tells Dean as he sets the drinks down at their table.

“You were just gabbing up there,” Dean protests, reaching for his beer, “leaving these two lovely ladies with only little old me for company.”

Castiel snorts as Daphne rolls her eyes above the rim of her drink.

“Then you should’ve gone with yentas ,” Aaron says as he sits down.

“Like Barbra Streisand?” Dean eyes them both up and down. “Can’t say I see the resemblance.”

Aaron runs a hand down his face. “How do you know Barbra Streisand and not what yenta means?”

“Sammy made me watch it,” Dean says into his beer.

Aaron laughs. “Sure.”

“Hey, Castiel,” Daphne interrupts, “Dean was telling us the funniest story about you from way back-”

Castiel shoots Aaron a desperate look, but Aaron just grabs a mozzarella stick and settles in. Let the girls have their fun.

* * *

“So, Castiel, are you seeing anyone?” Kelly asks after finishing her third whiskey sour. Nine months of sobriety/pregnancy had shot her tolerance to nothing. And, sure, Jack is almost four now, but Kelly still has a hard time knowing when to call it quits.

Whatever. She doesn’t regret the question. It’s been plaguing her and Daphne - and by extension Aaron because he had to listen to them - for a whole goddamn week.

Daphne’s eyes go wide.

Off to the side, Aaron slaps his hand to his forehead.

Dean turns to Castiel, his gaze piercing.

Castiel goes bright red. It’s a good color on him. Brings out the blue in his eyes. “I - well, that is to say - I am not - it’s complicated?” he fumbles.

Dean snorts as he picks up his beer to take a long pull.

Kelly frowns. “It’s complicated?” she repeats, disappointed. “How?”

“I am not comfortable discussing my personal life with colleagues,” Castiel says stiltedly.

Dean thumps him on the back. “Good move,” he says, “these three are the worst gossips in the school.”

“Hey!” Kelly protests automatically although Dean is, unfortunately, right. But it’s not her fault everyone else on staff at Edlund High doesn’t know how to have a good time.

Daphne knocks back her cosmo murderously.

Aaron shrugs.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Dean adds, “definitely has its uses. Just something for the newbie to know, right, Cas?”

“Of course,” Castiel says, sounding like he doesn’t know what exactly he’s agreeing to.

What a cutie. Kelly grins as she leans in over the table. “You want to know which students are the worst?”

Dean frowns. “Come on, there’s no need to dunk on minors.”

“Who’s dunking?” Kelly asks innocently. “I was going to warn him about Max Banes.”

“Oh, yeah, you should know about him, Cas,” Dean says with a laugh. “Kid’s a horndog. Gives my libido a run for my money.”

Castiel blinks. “Does he… pursue teachers?”

Daphne pats his hand. “Not yet. These three think it’s only a matter of time.”

“Oh,” Cas says, “That was very frowned upon at Carver Preparatory.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s frowned on here too, asshole. If he makes any… advances, just let Jody know. She and Donna - the guidance counselor - can handle it.”

“If I was going to put my psych degree to good use,” Daphne adds, “I would read into his lack of father figure. Their mom’s great, but Max doesn’t have a lot of male role models in his life.”

Kelly scowls.

Dean huffs into his beer. “Single parents have it rough, though.”

“Of course they do,” Daphne says with a significant look at Kelly. “Nobody’s saying they don’t.”

“I was raised by a single dad,” Dean protests, “and he raised me and my brother right.” He holds up a hand, and Castiel snaps his mouth shut before Kelly had even noticed it opening in the first place. “Don’t you start. I know you have thoughts about Dad, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

Kelly eyes them both curiously, but before she can ask, Aaron interrupts, “Did you guys hear about Krissy and Aidan? I think they are finally going to-”

“No way!” Daphne says, shaking her head. “She’s clueless. And he’s inept. The worst combination.”

“I believe in them,” Kelly announces. “What’d you hear, Aaron?”

As Aaron launches into the latest installment of their favorite will-they won’t-they senior couple, Kelly can finally appreciate the lazy smile Castiel wears as he settles in to listen. Maybe Aaron was right, and she and Daphne came on a little strong.

Whatever. No regrets. She wouldn’t trade that valuable intel from Castiel for anything.

* * *

That was Kelly’s last night out for a solid month. Every other weekend, her usual babysitter called in sick or said she was busy. And usually Kelly would be happy to spend more time with her son, but come on. A month with no breaks?

Christ, she’s such a bad mom.

Times like this don’t help.

“Jack?” Kelly calls, spinning around in the department store. Panic races through her veins. “Jack!”

She had turned her back for one minute to grab a set of towels from the highest shelf, and by the time she turned around, Jack was gone. She scans the surrounding racks of linens, her eyes peeled for any sign of Jack’s Spider-Man shirt. Heart beating erratically, she pushes her shopping cart back towards the bedding aisle - Jack had been enamored with a set of hideous, bright orange sheets, and Kelly had only gotten him away by bribing him with a piece of nougat.

“Jack!” she shouts again, going a bit red in the face as people turn to stare.

“Kelly?”

Shit. How could she miss Dean Winchester standing right in front of her?

“Dean!” Kelly greets, pasting on a fake smile as she cranes her neck around to scan the aisles behind him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“It was recently brought to my attention I needed a bathmat,” Dean grumbles, “and a shower curtain that doesn’t have the Scooby Gang on it.”

Kelly laughs, a tad hysterically. “Probably. I - well, nice running into you. I need to go - my son’s wandered off, and I need to find him because I am not a terrible mother.”

But instead of standing to the side, Dean adopts a pained expression. “He’s four, right?”

Kelly blinks. “Yes.”

Dean jerks his head for Kelly to follow. “I think I know where he is,” Dean says griml

Bemused, Kelly pushes her cart after Dean, back to the display beds. Her eyes zero in on the orange eye-sore, currently occupied by a jumping toddler. A dark-haired man perches on one edge with his back to them, apparently trying to communicate with Kelly’s wayward son.

She all but sprints forward, nearly bumping her shopping cart into several bed frames. “Jack!” she says loudly, and Jack stops at once.

“Mama!” he calls back delightedly.

“What are you doing?”

“Jumping.”

Kelly resists the urge to facepalm. “What did I tell you about wandering off? Or talking to stran-” She backtracks, finally focusing on the man. “Oh, hi, Castiel.”

“Hello, Kelly,” Castiel says, his deep voice sending a frisson down her spine like it always does.

“You know Mama?” Jack asks, looking from Kelly to Castiel and back again.

“We work together,” Castiel explains.

“This is Castiel,” Kelly introduces, and Jack wastes no time in chirping out, “Nice to meet you Castiel!’

Castiel sticks out his hand like he’s greeting the President instead of Kelly’s four-year-old son. “You as well, Jack.”

“What’re you doing here?” Kelly asks as Jack gives Castiel’s hand a theatrical shake.

Castiel’s brow furrows. “Purchasing home goods?” He gets to his feet. “I was searching for a suitable bathmat when I found Jack.”

“A bathmat,” Kelly echoes, whirling in place to see a red-faced Dean a few paces away, apparently enthralled by a set of outrageously mundane pillows.

“Yes?” Castiel confirms, following her gaze and blushing furiously. “Ah, hello, Dean. I - I didn’t see you there?”

Dean throws his hands in the air, giving up on all pretenses. “You’re impossible,” he says to Castiel.

“You’re buying a bathmat together?” Kelly asks, confused.

“Dean doesn’t have one,” Castiel says promptly.

“I didn’t need one until-” Dean closes his mouth with a snap.

Kelly stares at the pair of them. “Do you two live together?” she demands.

Castiel opens his mouth, but no words come out.

Kelly turns to Dean, who is rapidly scanning for the exits.

“Are you the ‘it’s complicated’?” she asks curiously, only looking away as Jack pats her knee determinedly, his face hopeful.

“Up?” he asks.

Kelly sighs and hefts him into her arms. “You’re getting too big for this.”

“Am not,” Jack mumbles into her shoulder.

Kelly presses a kiss to his forehead and turns back to Castiel and Dean, who look more like two students caught passing notes than fully grown men. “Well?”

Dean shares a loaded glance with Castiel, and Kelly has no idea how she missed the whole couple thing. Eventually, he says, “After two f-” he glances at Jack, “-friggin’ years, he finally got sick of cold feet in my bathroom.”

“Two years,” Kelly gapes.

Castiel sighs. “Three.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t start sleeping over at-”

“Dean,” Castiel interrupts in a growl.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. He coughs. “Anyway,” he says, “Yes, we’re dating. No, it’s not really that complicated. Cas just doesn’t like to talk about it at work.”

“Hm,” Kelly says neutrally.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t spread it around,” Castiel says as Dean snorts derisively.

“Hey,” Kelly says, defensive, “I can do that.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You can?”

“Sure, if you ask, Jesus,” Kelly says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not a monster.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says gratefully.

Kelly grins. “But if I can’t spread it around, Daphne’s still going to go after him like he’s a prize heifer at a state fair.”

Castiel squints at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “She was pursuing me?”

Dean guffaws. “Don’t ever change, man.” He claps him on the back while turning back to Kelly. “We can handle Daphne. Don’t worry.”

“Whatever, boys,” Kelly says as she pushes her cart back towards the linens, “it’s your funeral.” She hefts Jack higher in her arms. “Say goodbye to Dean and Castiel, Jack.” As Jack waves goodbye, she calls, “See you Monday!”

Sure, she’s a little disappointed Castiel is clearly off the dating market. But, bonus, she has blackmail material on not one, but two Edlund faculty members, and possibly a pinch-hitter babysitter waiting to happen. Not bad for a shopping trip with a four-year-old in tow.

* * *

Donna’s surprise party at Fizzle’s Folly is well underway by the time Aaron extricates himself from a lively discussion with his Head of Department and Rowena MacLeod, Edlund's chemistry teacher. Aaron will never, ever miss an opportunity to talk to a drunk Eleanor Visyak, and Rowena turned out to be surprisingly knowledgeable about 17th century English politics.

Still, he’s taken all the history talk he can stand, especially after teaching it for four hours to a bunch of high schoolers with varying degrees of interest.

He finds Daphne in one of the far booths, tucked away with Castiel and Dean, surprise, surprise. After snagging another beer at the bar, he slides in next to Daphne. “What’s up?” he asks the three of them.

“Hey,” Dean greets with a toast of his glass.

“Hello, Aaron.”

“Budge up, you’re taking like three quarters of the seat,” Daphne complains.

“Daph was just telling us about her plans to do a joint project between GSA and the Amnesty International club,” Dean says. “Cas says he’ll come to GSA next week.”

“Yeah?” Aaron asks as Castiel nods in confirmation. “That’s great! I’d go check it out, but the Debate club meets at the same time.”

Castiel frowns. “Maybe I should run a club? Daphne has Amnesty International, Dean runs GSA, and you have Debate.”

“You can always ask Jody about forming a new one in January,” Aaron says. “Honestly, the hardest part’ll be finding a time to meet. Don’t go for afterschool Thursdays, or Benny will kick your ass.”

“Why?”

“He has his cooking club,” Dean says with a grin. “And, like, half the student body goes. I sometimes go and help out too, if he needs extra hands.”

“You’ll go if he’s making pie,” Aaron corrects.

“It’s for the kids!” Dean protests over Castiel’s chuckles. “Benny’s got a lot of skills, but he has a lot to learn when it comes to pie. The kids need to know how to make a good pie.”

“If only to feed you later,” Aaron mutters.

“You’ll also want to avoid Tuesdays afterschool,” Daphne tells Castiel. “Jo’s self-defense club meets then, and it’s also got a large following.”

“Yeah, all the girls who wanna be like Jo sign up, and all the boys who want to see Jo all sweaty show up with semis,” Dean says with a shudder of revulsion.

Aaron kicks him under the table. “That’s sexist. How are you forgetting all the lesbians?”

“Ah, yes, can’t forget the lesbians,” Dean agrees sagely.

“Does this school have Model UN?” Castiel asks. “I was looking to set up a chapter at Carver before I switched positions.”

“No, we don’t,” Daphne says eagerly. “That’s an excellent idea.”

Dean drains the dregs of his beer. “I’m gonna get another, Cas? Daph? A-Game?”

Aaron rolls his eyes at the nickname. “I’m good,” he says, holding up his three-quarters full glass.

“Another cosmo, please?” Daphne asks.

“Sure.” Dean salutes.

“I’ll go with you,” Castiel says as Daphne’s face falls. “I need to stretch my legs.”

They leave, heads already bent together to hear each other over the dull roar of the party. “They seem close,” Aaron says, jerking his head.

Daphne sighs. “Yeah, they do,” she says morosely. She twirls her empty glass between her fingers. “Kelly’s given up on him. I think you might be right - he definitely has a thing for Dean.”

Aaron sips his beer. “I don’t blame him.”

“Of course you don’t,” Daphne says with a small grin, lightly kicking him under the table.

Before Aaron can think of anything else to say, Kelly appears over Daphne’s shoulder, her face flushed as it always gets when she drinks too much red wine. She slides into the side of the booth vacated by Dean and Castiel. “Some party, right? Did you see Garth doing shots?”

“No,” Daphne says, nose wrinkling. “And I don’t want to. I’ll stay here, out of the splash zone, thanks.”

Kelly giggles. “Why d’you think I’m over here instead of egging him on like Jo and Charlie.”

By the time Aaron finishes off the rest of his beer, Daphne’s still one cosmo short, and it’s been at least twenty minutes since he saw Dean and Castiel.

“Hey, I’ll go check up on that drink you’re waiting for,” Aaron says, getting to his feet.

“You sure?” Daphne asks, blinking hazily up at him. And okay, it’s probably good she had a breather between rounds.

“Yeah,” Aaron says, jerking his head towards the bar. “I need to piss anyway.”

“Gross,” Daphne says, nose wrinkling.

Kelly giggles, “If you think a little pee is gross, you don’t want to hear what Jack got up to with-”

Daphne actually places both hands over her ears and goes, “Na, na, na.”

Aaron leaves the pair of them laughing, with Kelly trying to pry Daphne’s hands away and Daphne getting louder with each tug.

He makes his way through the thinning crowd, waving to Eleanor when he spots her getting ready to leave and nodding to Charlie as she adjusts the empty shot glasses in front of her, Jo, and an impossibly red-faced Garth.

Aaron slides between the thinning crowd to duck out into the hallway leading to the bathrooms. As he gets closer to the men’s room, he slows. There are sounds coming from behind the door. Not like the pained bathroom sounds like Great Aunt Rachel gets after too much dairy. Porn sounds.

Aaron, torn between finding out who’s getting down and dirty at Donna’s surprise party, and getting Kelly and Daphne so they can witness the big reveal with him, is still rooted to the spot as the door bursts open and Castiel and Dean stumble out.

Cas’s hair is a bird’s nest of bedhead that would probably drop Daphne’s panties in a heartbeat. Dean’s cheeks are flushed, and Aaron definitely recognizes his immediate post-orgasm face.

“Fuck,” Dean swears as he finds his footing. He stares at Aaron, and Aaron stares right back.

“Aaron,” Castiel says breathlessly, temporarily drawing his attention. “You’re… here.”

“I had to pee,” Aaron says lamely.

“Oh, well, it’s all yours then,” Dean says, blushing to the roots of his hair as he gestures to the now available men’s room.

“Fuck no.” Aaron automatically recoils. There’s no way he’s touching any surface in that bathroom until it’s been scrubbed and bleached. He has some goddamn standards. He’d rather pee in the alley out back.

They linger awkwardly until Aaron speaks. He eyes the pair of them, his gaze ping-ponging back and forth. “So… you two are finally together?”

“Finally?” Dean echoes.

“Uh yeah,” Aaron says, confused. “Castiel clearly has a huge thing for you. Not to spill the beans or anything.”

A beat.

Dean cracks up.

Aaron, almost offended on Castiel’s behalf, opens his mouth as he catches sight of Castiel’s face, lips pressed tight together like he’s trying not to laugh. “You knew?”

Castiel slowly shakes his head as Dean leans on him for support, gasping for air. “Oh my god, Cas, that’s fucking embarrassing. D’you have a crush on me?”

“Shut up, Dean,” Castiel grumbles, shoving him off. To Aaron he says, “We’ve been dating for three years. He’s known about my feelings for a while now.”

“Oh,” Aaron says, drawing the syllable out as Dean composes himself.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, wiping at his eyes, “I thought I was going to give it all away, but turns out you’re just as obvious as you were in high school.”

Castiel sighs. “We were trying to not spread our relationship around.”

“Cas wanted to get settled in before people started saying he was my trophy husband,” Dean says with a wink.

Horror seizes Aaron. “You’re not married, are you?” he blurts. He glances down at their hands - no rings - and he would never forgive himself for missing something that obvious.

“No,” Castiel shakes his head, “we are only dating for now.”

“Not yet.”

Castiel turns to Dean in surprise, and Aaron really doesn’t need to be here for that conversation. “Oh-kay,” he says, sidling around them, “I still gotta,” he jerks his head towards the men’s room.

“Right!” Dean says, grinning. “We should get back to the party. Say hi to Donna.”

Aaron makes his exit, sighing in relief as the door closes behind him. He should be fine if he doesn’t touch anything. Or look at any shiny surfaces too closely. Once upon a time, he lived with a dozen Alpha Epsilon Pi brothers. He can do this.

* * *

Daphne has had it up to here with her juniors. Yes, Homecoming is this weekend. No, their essays aren’t due until next week, but that doesn’t excuse their behavior this Friday afternoon. Nobody wants to be in class at a quarter to three. High school juniors don’t. Daphne sure as hell doesn’t. They can’t cut her a little slack?

When the bell finally rings, Daphne sighs in relief. She dismisses her class with a terse, “Aufiderzein.”

She gathers her files together, grumbling to herself about stupid staff meetings on Friday. It’s like Jody wants them to surreptitiously play games on their phones and text each other when she’s looking the other way or yelling at Rowena for blowing up the Chemistry Lab again.

At least Benny always brings snacks from Thursday’s Cooking Club.

Daphne glances at her watch. Jody gives them a half-hour to get their affairs in order, but Daphne doesn’t mind staking out her seat in the Teachers Lounge early. She can save spots for Kelly and Aaron and stake out the precious few non-wobbly chairs.

She stops by the Language Office, pleasantly surprised to find it empty. No Dean, Kelly, or Castiel in sight. Daphne quickly gathers her freshmen pop quizzes to grade this weekend and her copy of Die Verwandlung.

She rounds the final corner before the Teachers Lounge and stops dead. Because Aaron and Kelly are hovering outside the door and spying through the slim glass pane. Without her.

“What’s going on?” Daphne asks curiously.

“Ah!” Kelly whirls around, clutching her heart.

“Daphne!” Aaron says loudly. “What’re you doing here?”

“Saving us a seat for the meeting?” Daphne says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Like I do every month?”

Aaron and Kelly share a loaded look. Aaron is the first one to speak, “I think we’re good this time.”

“Why?” Daphne asks, stepping closer. She frowns as Kelly and Aaron automatically stand shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking her view of the narrow window.

“Students are in there,” Aaron blurts.

“Puking,” Kelly adds.

Daphne doesn’t believe them for a second. “And you’re just standing there watching it happen?”

“Schadenfreude?” Aaron tries. “It’s the mean ones. You know. The kids we don't like.”

Daphne rolls her eyes, pushing them aside and standing on her tiptoes to see.

“We tried,” Aaron grumbles to her right.

“They can’t fault us for that,” Kelly says to her left.

At first, it looks like the Teachers Lounge is empty. Most seats are unoccupied, and nobody’s loitering by the coffee machine. One of the tables is strewn with three mostly-empty mini pie tins. Cherry, by the color. Movement catches her eye, and, woah how did she miss that?

“No way,” she breathes, glancing at Aaron and Kelly for confirmation.

Aaron scuffing his shoes against the floor, nods sheepishly.

“They made me promise not to tell,” Kelly says ruefully, lips pursing.

“Dean and Castiel?” Daphne gasps, squinting to better see Edlund High’s newest hire and favorite English teacher (no offense, Kelly) getting at it on the lumpy couch in the back that no one sat on because of this very reason.

She rounds on them. “You knew?” she hisses.

Kelly huffs an impatient sigh, blowing a few brown strands of hair out of her face. “I ran into them shopping together a few weeks ago.”

Aaron grimaces. “I nearly walked in on them having sex in the bathroom at Donna’s surprise party last weekend.”

Daphne blinks at the pair of them, hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kelly opens her mouth but no words come out.

“This is the first guy since Mark you showed an interest in,” Aaron rushes to say.

“We didn’t want to ruin it,” Kelly says.

Daphne’s eyes narrow. “And you didn’t think the fact that he’s clearly taken would ruin it?”

“I don’t know,” Kelly says, throwing her hands in the hair. “Sue us, we liked seeing you happy for however long it lasted!”

Daphne softens.

“We thought,” Aaron says, glancing at Kelly for support, “You were getting over Castiel, anyway.”

A small, petty part of Daphne is tempted to deny it as punishment for keeping this from her. But mostly she’s relieved. “Yeah, mostly,” she mutters.

“So… we good?” Aaron tries.

Kelly loops her arm around her in a one-armed hug. “Of course we are.”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Of course,” she echoes as Aaron pats her on the back, a wide grin spreading over his face. And, yeah, this is why she has the two best friends on Earth.

“What are you three up to?”

The smile slides off Kelly’s face. “Jody!” she says, spinning around to meet their Principal, holding a paper cup of coffee, and trailed by what looks like half the Edlund High teachers.

Oh shit.

Aaron not-so-accidentally knocks his elbow, loudly, into the door as he turns to face Jody et al. “We didn’t see you there,” he says conversationally.

“Hm,” Jody hums as she reaches past them for the doorknob. “Meeting’s going to start in ten.”

“Can we make it fifteen?” Aaron asks desperately, shuffling to the side so he better blocks the way in.

Jody shakes her head, throwing him a bemused look. “I’m pretty sure everyone wants this started with and over as soon as possible.”

“If you need to urinate, Bass, do it now,” Rowena sniffs.

“I don’t-” Aaron starts, breaking off as Jody finally opens the door.

She stops dead in her tracks.

“Jody!” Dean’s voice carries through the doorway, uncharacteristically high. “’S it time for the meeting already?”

Jo elbows her way to the front. “Goddammit,” she says, sounding completely unsurprised as she stands next to Jody. “Really, guys?”

The rest of the staff curiously filter in.

Behind Daphne, Benny surreptitiously slides Charlie a few bills, muttering, “I told them this was stupid.”

Charlie laughs. “But you still thought they’d last until Homecoming.”

“What can I say,” Benny says, shrugging, “I’m an optimist. And I was so close.”

Daphne meets Charlie’s eyes, asking in a low voice, “Did everyone know?”

Charlie see-saws her hand back and forth as they take their seats. “About half,” she says, glancing behind them to where Dean and Castiel are attempting to make themselves presentable. “Turns out, they’re really bad at keeping the whole ‘Destiel’ thing under wraps. It’s adorable they thought they could try.”

Daphne looks too, and there’s no mistaking what Dean and Castiel were doing. Their lips are swollen from kissing, and, weirdly, Castiel’s tie faces the right way. Daphne snorts. Probably because he didn’t tie it himself, for once.

Jody clears her throat. “Alright, settle down, guys,” she says with a sharp glare in Dean and Castiel’s direction. “As you all know, Homecoming is next weekend-”

* * *

Jody pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay, that’s all that was on my agenda for today’s meeting-” she waits for the cheers to die down “but, Dean and Castiel, can you stay for a sec?”

Castiel visibly swallows.

Dean scowls.

Jody waits for the rest of the staff to leave.

Nobody moves a muscle.

“Jesus Christ,” Jody swears under her breath. She’s managing children. Horrible, gossipy children. “Okay, I guess everyone could use a refresher.” She clears her throat. “PDA is strictly discouraged among faculty. It’s in the goddamn handbook, people.”

“Really, Jody?” Dean complains.

“I’m not saying you can’t be in a relationship,” Jody says with a sharp look. “Just don’t… advertise it.”

“You got something against two dudes making out?” Dean demands, half-getting up from his seat.

“Of course not, you ass,” Jody says in a long-suffering voice, “I do have something against teenagers making out in every hallway and empty classroom, which they will if they see their two favorite teachers doing it.” She shakes her head. “If you want to hold hands or take an ad out in the school paper, be my guest.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Castiel says hesitantly, wasting no time in reaching for Dean’s hand.

“Plus,” Jody says loftily, “I’ve been dating Donna for six months, and you don’t see me dragging her into supply closets, do you?” And into the stunned silence, Jody stands up to leave.

There are various cries of, “Donna?”

Donna throws her hands in the air as Kelly, Daphne, and Aaron converge on her like piranhas tasting blood in the water. “Jeez Louise,” Donna grumbles, “a little warning wouldn’t kill ya, would it Jody-o?”

“Probaby,” Jody says, giving them all a jaunty salute. “Enjoy your weekends, everyone!”

#destiel fanfic #destiel #fanfic #teacher dean #teacher castiel #human au #teachers au #jody mills #outsider pov #the story of us verse #rae writes fic #profoundnet #secret relationship #but like the worst kept secret #so does it even really count #kelly kline #aaron bass #daphne allen

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loverlele · 4 years

Text

Oblivious

Spencer Reid x Bi!Female Reader

Warnings: bad language, a bit of sex talk

A/N: Happy pride month! I know there’s lots of evil things going on in the world at the moment so I wanted to bring a bit of happiness back, even if it is just for a few minutes. I have a Bi!Spencer Reid x Male Reader one shot (possibly a mini series) coming soon, as well as a Lesbian!Emily Prentiss one shot in the works. Let me know if you want a part 2, possibly a smutty chapter? Who knows ;) anyways enough of my rambling, enjoy :)

Word count: 2023

“Hey good job today angel face” Morgan says from opposite me as I pack up my bags to head home. “Everyone’s going for drinks in a bit, fancy coming?”

“Since when have I ever said no to drinks with my favourite man?” I sarcastically shoot back.

“Well considering Reid hasn't asked you out for drinks, I can't comment on that one sunshine.” I pick up a piece of paper from my desk and throw it at him. Unfortunately I have a shit sense of aim, so it ended up going way to the right of Derek and hitting Emily square in the forehead.

“Oops, sorry Em!” I say, skipping over to my best friend and kissing the spot it collided with her face at. Unable to contain her laughter anymore, she erratically waved her hands in front of her face to get to back off. I do, not before messing her hair up with my fingers.

“Uhhhh, what have I walked into?” comes a voice from my left. I spin round and see Spencer stood next to my desk with a puzzled expression on my face. I sheepishly smile at him, looking at Derek for help.

“Y/N once again tried to hit me with a flying object, but her awful aim stopped that from happening and it hit Em instead” Derek laughed out. With a fake anger look on my face I kept on Derek and held him in a fake chokehold. I didn't think twice at how immature it might make me seem, but once I heard Spencer’s adorable laugh I knew I didn't need to second guess myself.

“Hey you adorable human being, get your own man” Garcia says as she walks up to the mess that has unravelled. I rub Derek’s head firmly before sliding off his shoulders, placing my feet firmly on the ground. Well, so I thought. As it seemed though, the earth hated me. As my feet made contact with the ground, my knees buckled and I fell backwards. A firm, but soft pair of hands caught me and helped me steady myself. I didn't need to turn around to look at who had caught me, I could recognise those hands from a mile away.

“Thanks you” I muttered slowly pulling myself off him.

“No problem.”

Feeling the tensions rise in the air I turn my attention back to Garcia, who is now perching on Emily’s desk with a smirk on her face. That little shit, I mutter to myself. Thankfully, my comment wasn't heard by anyone. “For your information Pen, I don't need no man thank you. I am perfectly capable of making my own bad decisions without a helping hand.”

“Amen to that girl!” Emily calls out.

“What about a woman?” Derek asks as we collectively make our way to the lifts. We all manage to fit into one life and I press the button before leaning around Spencer to whack his arm.

“Bite me Derek Morgan.”

“I’m sure Emily would happily do that” he retorts, smirking. This time it was Emily’s turn to whack Derek’s arm. The sounds of bickering between Emily and Derek fill the elevator.

As we get get down to the car park the bickering stops and a wave of realisation hits me like a gust of wind. “Fuck” I mutter, pulling out my phone to see who could come get me.

“Hey, you okay?” a quiet voices comes from besides me.

“Jesus Christ Spence, you scared me!”

“Sorry I didn't mean to. Seriously, are you okay? I don't see your car” he says, quickly scanning the car park for signs of my car.

“My car’s in the garage getting its suspension fixed. I forgot to ask my roommate to pick me up from work tonight and now its 10pm and she's probably already out. Oh my god, how am I going to get home-”

“Hey it’s okay, we’ll go to yours to grab what you need before heading to the bar to meet the others. Come on, hop in” he says, opening the passenger side door before scooting round to the drivers side and getting in. It didn't take long for me to make up my mind, I mean it was either go with him or try to find my own way home AND then my way to the bar we were all set to meet at 11. I got in, shooting him a smile and we head off.

- AT THE BAR -

“Hey! Finally you showed up, we were beginning to think you weren't coming” JJ says and we approach the booth.

“Don’t be silly, we don't do this very often anymore. I wouldn't miss it for the world” I say scooting into the booth, situating myself between Emily and Spencer. Oh great, this won't be awkward at all, I say to myself. Almost as if he'd read my mind (or, most likely, the awkwardness I was displaying) Spencer’s leg shifted slightly and met mine. I looked up at him slightly, yet his focus was on Morgan and debating on what alcohol would get them drunk the fastest.

After a few drinks everyone seems to have loosened up a bit. I mean, even Spencer was on his third drink of the night. The norm for this team is as the number of drinks consumed got higher, the more secrets (or “tea” as Penelope would sometimes put it) were revealed. And tonight proved no different that normal.

“Let’s do truth or drink guys!” Penelope half shouted. The bar we were at is one of our favourite ones to go to together and tonight was pretty loud in here. Meaning as the surroundings got louder, the louder we all became. Even though every single one of us groaned at the idea, we all knew better than to disagree with a tipsy Penelope. It started off relatively innocent and calm, until it got to Derek’s turn Derek, having been waiting for 10 minutes already, knew exactly what and who he wanted to ask. It was no surprise to me when he pointed at me.

“Little miss sunshine, ready for your question?”

“I was born ready baby, give it to me.”

“Do you have a preference of who you date?And if so, what is it.”

That fucker. Not a drinking session goes by that I don't get asked about my sexuality I mean don't get me wrong, I love educating people and I love the sight on Derek’s face when I end up getting the number of a girl he’s expressed interest in. Taking a swig of my drink, I ponder on the question for a few moments before replying,

“I have a ‘type’ of women that I find myself automatically gravitating myself towards. I mean I guess I have a type of guy I like too. I don't know, I just go with what my heart says most of the time.”

“You still need to describe it sunshine” he says, smirking into his drink. It’s not as if we haven't had this discussion before, and by ‘we’ I mean Derek and myself. He knew what it was, he just wanted to see me suffer.

“I hate you” I groan, shuffling around to get comfortable before I answer Derek’s question. I take a big swig of my drink as I go to reply “red headed girls with a quick temper.”

“And the guys?” Spencer says, breaking his silence and looking at me.

“Brown mess hair, bit of a dork, goofy, tall, thinks Halloween is the best holiday of the year” I say, drawing my lips into a small smirk and taking another sip of my drink. Spencer doesn't even blink twice at my reply. Idiot.

Everyone’s questions seemed a lot tamer than mind. For example, JJ would be asked “what's the most romantic thing Will’s ever done for you?” and Derek’s would be “so you wish you had more freedom with your work hours?”. But mine, “craziest place you've had sex?” or “one person you'd happily let jump your bones right now?” (10 points if you guess who asked that one). After a few rounds I squeezed through the crowd and up to the bar for refills, and shots. I was under strict instructions to get at least 20 shots, no less.

“Hey can I have the same again, but with 20 shots as well?” shooting the bar tender a smile and giving the name of the open tab.

“Sure things hun, what shots do you want?” she asks.

“Surprise me,” I say, not really knowing what to order. I feel a tap on my shoulder, alerting me that someone was behind me. I spin around to see the most gorgeous red head stood in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, the laughing was easing at the table and I could see the glances they were all giving in my direction. Great, an audience is just what I need.

“Hey, so I hope I’m not over stepping by saying I think you're one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen here.”

“Hi, that’s so sweet of you! You are absolutely stunning yourself” I say, feeling 5 sets of eyes on me.

“Um would it be possible for me to get your number?” she asks, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. It’s not that I don't find you ridiculously attractive, I um” I trail off slightly, glancing back and locking eyes with the messy haired brunette at my table. He flashes me a small, yet sad smile before turning his attention to JJ. “It wouldn't be fair to either of us if I did that because my hearts already with someone else.”

“It’s cool, I get it. Whoever they are is a lucky person” she says, smiling sweetly before turning and walking away. I turn back to the bar and grab the tray of drinks, slowly making my way back to the table. This time, when I reach the table, its quiet and all eyes are on me.

“What?” I ask, as I hand out the drinks and put the shots in a circe in the middle of the table. I scoot back into the booth, regaining my seat in between Spencer and Emily.

“Why did you turn her down?” Derek asks in disbelief, “in the 5 years I've known you I have never seen you turn down someone that quickly. Especially not a smoking hot red head like that!”

“You say that as if it's a crime Derek. I wasn't interested, I said no and we parted ways. End of conversation.”

“But why?” Spencer asks, “she’s exactly your type.”

“Yeah and so are you yet you're still an oblivious fuck” I mutter. Something in the air changed the second those words fell out of my mouth. I couldn't quite figure out if it was a good change or not.

“What was that Y/N?” Derek asks, smirking.

“What I said was not meant for your ears so shut it” I ramble looking over at Spencer, who’s still staring at me and seemingly in a world of his own. I try to study his face, looking for some kind of answer or reply to what I’d just said.

Sensing the obvious tension in the air Penelope did the best thing she could think of doing, shouting out the words “SHOT TIME EVERYONE!”. That seemed to do the trick as it knocked Spencer out of whatever alternate timeline he was in. He grabs 2 shots, placing one in front of you and keeping the other in his hand.

“To friendship” JJ said, raising her shot glass to the roof.

“To friendship!” the others yelled, clinking glasses and putting back the shots.

Spencer’s hand found its way to your thigh under the table, squeezing it tightly as he muttered, “to friendship.” downing the shot. His eyes locked on mine.

“To friendship” I say, pulling my lips to the glass with a smirk and downing it. Hmm, maybe he's completely oblivious after all, I say to myself before locking hands with Spencer under the table.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #spencer #reid #one shot #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid fluff #matthew gray gubler smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #gubler #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #fluff

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silvokrent · 3 years

Text

RWBY Character Analysis: Pietro and Penny Polendina

Up until now I’ve been keeping quiet about my opinions on the newest volume, in no small part because my personal life has been one absurd setback after another, and I haven’t had the energy to engage in fandom meta. If you do want to know what my current opinion of RWBY is, go over to @itsclydebitches blog, search through her #rwby-recaps tag, and read every single one. At this point, her metas are basically an itemized list of all my grievances with the show. I highly recommend you check ’em out.

Or, if you don’t feel like reading several hours’ worth of recaps, then go find a sheet of paper, give yourself a papercut, and then squeeze a lemon into it. That should give you an accurate impression of my feelings.

In truth, I have a lot to say about the show, particularly how I think CRWBY has mishandled the plot, characters, tone, and intended message of their series. And while I enjoy dissecting RWBY with what amounts to mad scientist levels of glee, I think plenty of other folks have already discussed V7′s and V8′s various issues in greater depth and with far more eloquence. Any contribution I could theoretically make at this point would be somewhat redundant.

That being said, I’d like to talk about something that’s been bothering me for a while, which (to my knowledge) no one else in the fandom has brought up. (And feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.)

Today’s topic of concern is Pietro Polendina, and his relationship with Penny.

And because I’m absolutely certain this post is going to be controversial and summon anonymous armchair critics to fill my inbox with sweary claptrap, I may as well just come out and say it:

Pietro Polendina, as he’s currently portrayed in the show, is an inherently abusive parental figure.

Let me take a second to clarify that I don’t think it was RWBY’s intention to portray Pietro that way. Much like other aspects of the show, a lot of nuance is often lost when discussing the difference between intention versus implementation, or telling versus showing. It’s what happens when a writer tries to characterize a person one way, but in execution portrays them in an entirely different light. Compounding this problem is what feels like a series of rather myopic writing decisions that started as early as Volume 2, concerning Penny’s sense of agency, and how the canon would bear out the implications of an autonomous being grappling with her identity. It’s infuriating that the show has spent seven seasons staunchly refusing to ask any sort of ethical questions surrounding her existence, only to then—with minimal setup—give us Pietro’s “heartfelt” emotional breakdown when he has to choose between “saving” Penny or “sacrificing” her for the greater good.

Yeah, no thanks.

If we want to talk about why this moment read as hollow and insincere, we need to first make sure everyone’s on the same page.

Spoilers for V8.E5 - “Amity.” Let’s not waste any time.

In light of the newest episode and its—shall we say—questionable implications, I figured now was the best time to bring it up while the thoughts were still fresh in my mind. (Because nothing generates momentum quite like frothing-at-the-mouth rage.)

The first time we’re told anything about Pietro, it comes from an exchange between Penny and Ruby. From V2.E2 - “A Minor Hiccup.”

Penny: I've never been to another kingdom before. My father asked me not to venture out too far, but... You have to understand, my father loves me very much. He just worries a lot.

Ruby: Believe me, I know the feeling. But why not let us know you were okay?

Penny: I…was asked not to talk to you. Or Weiss. Or Blake. Or Yang. Anybody, really.

Ruby: Was your dad that upset?

Penny: No, it wasn’t my father.

The scene immediately diverts our attention to a public unveiling of the AK-200. A hologram of James Ironwood is presenting this newest model of Atlesian Knight to a crowd of enthusiastic spectators, along with the Atlesian Paladin, a piloted mech. During the demonstration, James informs his audience that Atlas’ military created them with the intent of removing people from the battlefield and mitigating casualties (presumably against Grimm).

Penny is quickly spotted by several soldiers, and flees. Ruby follows, and in the process the two are nearly hit by a truck. Penny’s display of strength draws a crowd and prompts her to retreat into an alley, where Ruby learns that Penny isn’t “a real girl.”

This scene continues in the next episode, “Painting the Town…”

Penny: Most girls are born, but I was made. I’m the world’s first synthetic person capable of generating an Aura. [Averts her gaze.] I’m not real…

After Ruby assures her that no, you don’t have to be organic in order to have personhood, Penny proceeds to hug her with slightly more force than necessary.

Ruby: [Muffled noise of pain.] I can see why your father would want to protect such a delicate flower!

Penny: [Releases Ruby.] Oh, he’s very sweet! My father’s the one that built me! I’m sure you would love him.

Ruby: Wow. He built you all by himself?

Penny: Well, almost! He had some help from Mr. Ironwood.

Ruby: The general? Wait, is that why those soldiers were after you?

Penny: They like to protect me, too!

Ruby: They don't think you can protect yourself?

Penny: They're not sure if I'm ready yet. One day, it will be my job to save the world, but I still have a lot left to learn. That's why my father let me come to the Vytal Festival. I want to see what it's like in the rest of the world, and test myself in the Tournament.

Their conversation is interrupted by the sound of the approaching soldiers from earlier. Despite Ruby’s protests, Penny proceeds to yeet her into the nearby dumpster, all while reassuring her that it’s to keep Ruby out of trouble, not her. When the soldiers arrive, they ask her if she’s okay, then proceed to lightly scold her for causing a scene. Penny’s told that her father “isn’t going to be happy about this,” and is then politely asked (not ordered; asked) to let them escort her back.

Let’s take a second to break down these events.

When these two episodes first aired, the wording and visuals (“No, it wasn’t my father,” followed by the cutaway to James unveiling the automatons) implied that James was the one forbidding her from interacting with other people. It’s supposed to make you think that James is being restrictive and harsh, while Pietro is meant as a foil—the sweet, but cautious father figure. But here’s the thing: both of these depictions are inaccurate, and frankly, Penny’s the one at fault here. Penny blew her cover within minutes of interacting with Ruby—a scenario that Penny was responsible for because she was sneaking off without permission. Penny is a classified, top-secret military project, as made clear by the fact that she begs Ruby to not say anything to anyone. Penny is in full acknowledgement that her existence, if made public, could cause massive issues for her (something that she’s clearly experienced before, if her line, “You’re taking this extraordinarily well,” is anything to go by).

But here’s the thing—keeping Penny on a short leash wasn’t a unilateral decision made by James. That was Pietro’s choice as well. “My father asked me not to venture out too far,” “Your father isn’t going to be happy about this”—as much as this scene is desperately trying to put the onus on James for Penny’s truant behavior, Pietro canonically shares that blame. And Penny (to some extent) is in recognition of the fact that she did something wrong.

Back in Volumes 1 – 3, before the series butchered James’ characterization, these moments were meant as pretty clever examples of foreshadowing and subverting the controlling-military-general trope. This scene is meant to illustrate that yes, Penny is craving social interaction outside of military personnel as a consequence of being hidden, but that hiding her is also a necessity. It’s a complicated situation with no easy answer, but it’s also something of a necessary evil (as Penny’s close call with the truck and her disclosing that intel to Ruby are anything to go by).

Let’s skip ahead to Volume 7, shortly after Watts tampered with the drone footage and framed her for several deaths. In V7.E7 - “Worst Case Scenario,” a newscaster informs us that people in Atlas and Mantle want Penny to be deactivated, despite James’ insistence that the footage was doctored and Penny didn’t go on a killing spree. The public’s unfavorable opinion of Penny—a sentiment that Jacques of all people embodies when he brings it up in V7.E8—reinforces V2’s assessment of why keeping her secret was necessary. Not only is her existence controversial because Aura research is still taboo, but people are afraid that a mechanical person with military-grade hardware could be hacked and weaponized against them. (Something which Volume 8 actually validates when James has Watts take control of her in the most recent episode.)

But I digress.

We’re taken to Pietro’s lab, where Penny is hooked up to some sort of recharge/docking station. Ruby, Weiss, and Maria look on in concern while the machine is uploading the visual data from her systems. There’s one part of their conversation I want to focus on in particular:

Pietro: When the general first challenged us to find the next breakthrough in defense technology, most of my colleagues pursued more obvious choices. I was one of the few who believed in looking inward for inspiration.

Ruby: You wanted a protector with a soul.

Pietro: I did. And when General Ironwood saw her, he did too. Much to my surprise, the Penny Project was chosen over all the other proposals.

Allow me to break down their conversation so we can fully appreciate what he’s actually saying.

The Penny Project was picked as the candidate for the next breakthrough in defense technology.

Pietro wanted a protector with a SOUL.

In RWBY, Aura and souls are one of the defining characteristics of personhood. Personhood is central to Penny’s identity and internal conflict (particularly when we consider that she’s based on Pinocchio). That’s why Penny accepts Ruby’s reassurances that she’s a real person. That’s why she wants to have emotional connections with others.

What makes that revelation disturbing is when you realize that Pietro knowingly created a child soldier.

Look, there’s no getting around this. Pietro fully admits that he wanted to create a person—a human being—a fucking child—as a "defense technology” to throw at the Grimm (and by extension, Salem). Everything, from the language he uses, to the mere fact that he entered Penny in the Vytal Tournament as a proving ground where she could “test [her]self,” tells us that he either didn’t consider or didn’t care about the implications behind his proposal.

When you break it all down, this is what we end up with:

“Hey, I have an idea: Why don’t we make a person, cram as many weapons as we can fit into that person, and then inform her every day for the rest of her life that she was built for the sole purpose of fighting monsters, just so we don’t have to risk the lives of others. Let’s then take away anything remotely resembling autonomy, minimize her interactions with people, and basically indoctrinate her into thinking that this is something she wants for herself. Oh, and in case she starts to raise objections, remind her that I donated part of my soul to her. If we make her feel guilty about this generous sacrifice I made so she could have the privilege of existing, she won’t question our motives. Next, let’s give her a taste of freedom by having her fight in a gladiatorial blood sport so that we can prove our child soldier is an effective killer. And then, after she’s brutally murdered on international television, we can rebuild her and assign her to protecting an entire city that’s inherently prejudiced against her, all while I brood in my lab about how sad I am.”

Holy fuck. Watts might be a morally bankrupt asshole, but at least his proposal didn’t hinge on manufacturing state-of-the-art living weapons. They should have just gone with his idea.

(Which, hilariously enough, they did. Watts is the inventor of the Paladins—Paladins which, I’ll remind you, were invented so the army could remove people from the battlefield. You know, people. Kind of like what Penny is.)

Do you see why this entire scene might have pissed me off? Even if the show didn’t intend for any of this to be the case, when you think critically about the circumstances there’s no denying the tacit implications.

To reiterate, V8.E5 is the episode where Pietro says, and I quote:

“I don’t care about the big picture! I care about my daughter! I lost you before. Are you asking me to go through that again? No. I want the chance to watch you live your life.”

Oh, yeah? And what life is that? The one where she’s supposed to kill Grimm and literally nothing else? You do realize that she died specifically because you made her for the purpose of fighting, right?

No one, literally no one, was holding a gun to Pietro’s head and telling him that he had to build a living weapon. That was his idea. He chose to do that.

Remember when Cinder said, “I don’t serve anyone! And you wouldn’t either, if you weren’t built that way.” She…basically has a point. Penny has never been given the option to explore the world in a capacity where she wasn’t charged with defending it by her father. We know she doesn’t have many friends, courtesy of Ironwood dissuading her against it in V7. But I’m left with the troubling realization that the show (and the fandom), in their crusade to vilify James, are ignoring the fact that Pietro is also complicit in this behavior by virtue of being her creator. If we condemn the man that prevents Penny from having relationships, then what will we do to the man who forced her into that existence in the first place?

Being her “father” has given him a free pass to overlook the ethics of having a child who was created with a pre-planned purpose. How the hell did the show intend for Pietro to reconcile “I want you to live your life” with “I created you so you’d spend your life defending the world”? It viscerally reminds me of the sort of narcissistic parents who have kids because they want to pass on the family name, or continue their bloodline, or have live-in caregivers when they get older, only on a larger and much more horrific scale. And that’s fucked up.

Now, I’m not saying I’m against having a conflict like this in the show. In fact, I’d love to have a character who has to grapple with her own humanity while questioning the environment she grew up in. Penny is a character who is extremely fascinating because of all the potential she represents—a young woman who through a chance encounter befriends a group of strangers, and over time, is exposed to freedoms and friendships she was previously denied. Slowly, she begins to unlearn the mindset she was indoctrinated with, and starts to petition for agency and autonomy. Pietro is forced to confront the fact that what he did was traumatic and cruel, and that his love for her doesn’t erase the harm he unintentionally subjected her to, nor does it change the fact that he knowingly burdened a person with a responsibility she never consented to. There’s a wealth of character growth and narrative payoff buried here, but like most things in RWBY, it was either underdeveloped or not thought through all the way.

The wholesome father-daughter relationship the show wants Pietro and Penny to have is fundamentally contradicted by the nature of her existence, and the fact that no one (besides the villains) calls attention to it. I’d love for them to have that sort of dynamic, but the show had to do more to earn it. Instead, it’ll forever be another item on RWBY’s ever-growing list of disappointments—

Because Pietro’s remorse is more artificial than Penny could ever hope to be.

#rwby #rwby volume 8 #rwby spoilers #rwby thought dump #my posts #i speak #rwby meta #pietro polendina #penny polendina #james ironwood #arthur watts #ruby rose #rwby worldbuilding #rwde

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yayeetsonny · 4 years

Text

Keeping Secrets~USWNT x Baby Reader

Prompt: Team finds out baby r has epilepsy.

Requested by: @khiaraaa-in-spacee

TW: Depictions of seizures and mentions of them.

Y/N PRO//

My name is Y/N L/N and I have epilepsy. Having epilepsy is hard because a lot of people assume that there is just the one kind, where a person suddenly falls to the ground and experiences uncontrollable muscle movement. While that is a common form that it can take there are several other types. Like mine, I experience Typical absence seizures, this means that when I am experiencing one I stop whatever it was I was doing and it can look like I’m frozen or zoning out, my eyelids flutter quite a bit and my ams jerk slightly sometimes too. When these happen I don’t realize it until it’s over. Most of the time I have several in a row so when everything is over I tend to be a little confused.

I try not to let it define my life. I’m also a member of the United States Women’s National soccer team. I’m the youngest player on the squad at 15 and the team is over protective to say the least. They tend to overdue it by a lot when we’re on the field, for example if I go down injured at all they swarm me, asking if I’m okay a million times and calling the medical staff over for the tiniest injuries.. Off the field is much the same, they wake me up at the same time every morning because

“Having a routine is important.”

Christen has told me this a thousand times, doesn’t mean I like being woken up at 5:30 am everyday, off days included. (That is unless I’m sick, then they make me hate naps) Once I’m up they make me get dressed and they carry me down to the dining hall where all the food is set up. When they first started doing this I protested being carried, citing that I was a big girl and I had two legs that worked perfectly fine but, after a look from Ali and Ashlyn I just let it happen. The veterans of the team also stormed the coaching staff’s office demanding that they find a way to make breakfast available for me (and them) when I wake up. They didn’t do this to be snobby or high maintenance they say its because

“If don’t eat right away in the morning, you get grouchy.”

I don’t, but they think I do so I just let them have it and eat by 6 everyday.

I haven’t told the team that I have epilepsy because I don’t want to scare them or freak them out. It’s not that I’m ashamed of it or anything it’s just that I don’t want them to feel like they have to worry about me even more than they already do.

“Hey Y/N! You in there?” Kelley asks appearing out of nowhere.

“What? Oh, sorry what’s up?”

“We just wanted to see if you wanted to go to the coffee shop around the corner with us.”

She pointed to nearly half the team, including all the vets who were looking at me with concern written all over their faces.

“I think I’ll stay here, thanks anyways.”

“Are you sure? You love that place.” Kelley said frowning.

She was right, I had never turned down going there, especially with her. I wasn’t going to tell her this but I had forgot to take my seizure medicine so I need to stay back to take it before I forgot.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay, well, we’ll bring you something back then.”

“Y/N?” Christen grabbed my hand before I could start walking to the elevators to go back to my room.

“Yeah Chris?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I just wanna make sure. You know, me and the other veterans wouldn’t mind staying with you. We could hang here and watch movies or play board games or if you want we could all lay down and nap together, I know how much you love the “Cuddle puddle” we create.”

“I’m okay, really. Go have fun with the others. I think I’m just gonna go read my book in my room.”

“Okay, see you later.”

She gave me a hug before leaving, I watched as she explained what we talked about to the other vets and I saw several of them turn back to look at me. I shrugged at them before turning on my heel and heading back to my room.

Once there, I took my medicine out of its hiding place, making sure to take the right dosage I then put it back and make sure it would stay hidden. I had to hide it because the girls always double check my bag before we leave any where we’ve stayed to make sure I have all my stuff. It’s nice sometimes but it also can get a little annoying.

There was a sudden knock at my door making me jump a little. Who could that be? The players who stayed behind were those that loved to nap and or they didn’t like coffee and almost all of them needed to have there alone time so getting a visitor is rare. After looking through the peephole I saw it was my roommate and best friend Morgan.

“Hey Moe! I thought you went with the others?” I said as I let her in.

“I did but I forgot my sunglasses. Have you seen them?”

“Um, I think you left them on the bathroom sink.”

“Oh that’s right! Okay, well got ‘em! See you later.”

“See you.”

After she left I was able to go back to reading my book, It was pretty peaceful and I had almost made it half way through when I stopped. The book fell out of my hands and onto the floor with a loud thud.

My eyelids fluttered and my fingers twitched and then just like that it was over. They only last 10-20 seconds, which isn’t long at all but for me it often feels like hours before I am aware of my surroundings again. Okay, there’s one. Am I going to have more?

My medicine has reduced them but it doesn’t stop them completely and some days it doesn’t work at all. I would go to a doctor to fix the prescription but since I can’t drive and the girls don’t know I just leave it be.

“Oh boy, today is gonna be a long day.” I say to no one but myself before I slowly stand up and go to the sink to splash water on my face.

We have practice in 45 minutes and I know the girls will want me to be ready a few minutes early. After I take my time changing into my gear and double checking that I do indeed look okay I make my way down to the lobby so that I can get on the bus before everyone else. I choose to sit all the way in the back and put my earbuds in so they know I don’t want to be bothered. But it seems Megan didn’t get the memo because she sits down right next to me and yanks the earbud out of my ear, putting it in her own.

“Hey kid, where you been? We brought back your favorite drink but you weren’t in your room.”

“I’ve been here.” I say shortly

“Okay?”

“Sorry I’m just tired.”

“You should’ve taken a nap before practice Y/N. What have we told you about that?”

“That I get grouchy without one, I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, okay? I forgot, I’ll take one when we get back.”

“I’ll be having a discussion with Carli, Chris, Alex, and the others about what we can do to help you remember.” She said leaving no room for argument.

Ugh, I hate when they have “Veteran meetings” about me. After they’ve decided something, they sit me down and all crowd around me so that if I get upset, they can comfort me. 98% of the time whatever they tell me isn’t a big deal, like a curfew. I can deal with that or even an early bedtime when I get sick or injured. But I draw the line on some things.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me Y/N.”

“Whatever.”

“Are we gonna have to talk about your attitude too?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Mhm, what I thought.”

We finally arrived at the training facility we were practicing at this camp before our up coming international friendlies, and I grabbed my stuff and ran off the bus so I wouldn’t have to deal with Megan giving me the look anymore.

“Y/N! Walk please!” I heard Alex shout from behind me but I ignored her.

Ali PRO//

“Okay is it just me or she acting weird?” I asked, concerned for our youngest teammate

“Mmm, she’s just in a mood.” Megan said

“Okay, but she knows how we feel about her running anywhere that’s not the field, she’s the clumsiest kid we know. Plus, she always listens to me.” Alex said

She made a good point, she listened to all of us 9 times out of 10, some more than others but still. We all just stood there, letting the young players off first while we continued discussing our kid’s weird behavior.

“Hey guys?”

“Yeah Ash?”

“What’s this?”

She held up a pill bottle that none of us had seen before. On it in big bold letters, was the name Y/N L/N and it was a medicine called Ethosuximide with the name (Zarontin) in parentheses. What the hell?

“What is that and why does she have it?” Christen asked angrily.

“I don’t know but I’m gonna find out right now.” Ashlyn said as she stomped off the bus.

“Ash, Ash hold on!”

I stood in front of her trying to get her to stop walking.

“Why?”

“I know you, you aren’t going to let her explain and you’ll jump to conclusions.”

“What’s there to explain Ali? None of us have ever seen her take pills before and we all know she doesn’t have any medical conditions. We made Vlatko give us her file remember?”

“Yes but you should still let her explain.”

Ashyln was growing more upset and I was having a hard time keeping her at bay. As we got closer to the locker room the players who were already on the field or heading out attention was drawn to our argument.

“Ash, cool it. Young ones in the vicinity.” Alex said referring to the “youngins” as Becky called them.

“I don’t care. I’m talking to her right now.”

There was nothing me, Alex or any of the other veterans could do to stop her from storming into the locker room.

“Y/N Y/M L/N!”

She came over to the front of the room quickly, startled and looking slightly terrified. She had yet to spot the pill bottle Ashyln was holding behind her back.

“Yeah Ash? What’s up?”

“ “What’s up?” she says. What’s up? That’s all you have to say?” Ashlyn had a bite to her tone that made me shiver. She can be mad intimidating when she wants to be.

“Yes?”

“What’s up Y/N, is this.”

As soon as she saw what she was holding all the color drained from Y/N’s face and I was afraid she might faint.

“Y/N… Sweetie, you’re okay. We’re just a little worried about you.” Chris said stepping forward and blocking her view of Ashlyn’s “Mean face”

She tried to reach for Y/N but she turned away from her and made a move to leave.

“Uh you know, I really should get out on the field with the others. See you guys out there!”

Alex grabbed her around the waist and held her in her arms tightly so she couldn’t go anywhere. She tried to get her to let go but gave up when she realized Alex was too strong.

“Shhh, deep breaths. You’re okay. It’s just us. It’s okay.” Alex cooed softly in her ear.

I could tell that she was scared and was trying not to let her walls down.

“It-it’s not anything bad I swear!”

“Really, then what is it?”

“It’s just… can we just talk about it later? Please.”

“No, what is this and why do you have it?”

“I- Please just let me go practice.”

“Y/N…”

“I have epilepsy, okay?! There, can I go practice please?”

She freed herself from Alex and ran out onto the field. We all chased after her and Christen tried to catch her but she was saved by the whistle.

“Ladies! Let’s go, stop messing around and get to work!” Dawn yelled, we knew it was directed at us.

After that we had no choice but to let it go and practice. We did the usual, stretching and warm up and then position group training, individual for some and scrimmages to end the session. Were half way through a scrimmage whenI noticed Y/N stop moving. It was like she was frozen, she wasn’t moving except for her arms that were jerking slightly and I could see her eyelids fluttering. She must be having a seizure. I thought. I rushed over to her stopping practice and tried everything to get her to snap out of it. Many of our teammates also tried to no avail and everyone was gathered around her unsure of what to do.

“Okay let’s give her some space.” Ashlyn said

I stayed close in case I had to prevent her from falling and hitting her head or needed to do anything else to help her.

She continued to seize, each one only lasted 10 seconds but she had 5 in a row and when those had stopped she only came to for a few seconds before she started to experience a second wave. In total she was unresponsive for almost a minute and half straight. Christen had put her arms on her shoulders, trying to let her know she was there.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re here. You’re okay.”

“What do we do?”

“We just have to let her know we’re here.”

“What’s going on? Is she okay?”

Several of the younger players looked scared and unsure of what to do, so Tobin and Megan took them away from where Y/N was and tried to reassure them she was gonna be okay.

Y/N PRO//

Everything finally started to come back into focus and at this point I had been moved to the ground and I was sitting in Chris’s lap as she held me. When I was fully out of the state I had been in I started to try to push her away, I was disoriented and confused and I didn’t remember what I was doing here.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. Y/N you’re safe, it’s okay.” Becky said as I settled down and the rest of the team begin trying to help me.

Chris held me the whole time, cooing in my ear and trying to keep me calm. Everything was super loud and my mind and body had gone into sensory overload trying to come back to practice. When I realized what happened and I was able, I pushed my way out of Christen’s arms, and ran back to the locker room. After that I ignored everyone and their questions about what was going on. I was the first back on the bus and had planned to continue ignoring everyone. The Vets of the team had other ideas however and put an end to it quickly.

“You feeling better little one?”

“Yeah Al, I am.”

“That was really scary.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about babe. But can I ask you something?” Ali said

“Sure, shoot.”

“Did you take your medicine today?”

“Yeah, I did it just doesn’t work well.” I said timidly

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the right dosage, it just doesn’t work well enough most of the time.”

“Why didn’t you get it adjusted?”

“I didn’t want anyone to find out about it.”

“That’s dangerous, you know that right?”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you were scared. We’ll take you to get it adjusted as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

When we got back to the hotel I dropped off my stuff and decided to go for a walk. I needed to think about some things, and I knew the girls wanted to have a more in depth talk about what happened but I wasn’t ready. Eventually though I made my way back to the room and when I opened the door my roommate was there to greet me.

“Hey babe! You came back to me!’ Moe said dramatically as I entered our room.

“I’ll always come back to you, baby.” I said jokingly

“You better. My life is so boring without you!”

“I am the life of the party I’ve been told.”

“Ha ha, If anyone is the life of the party its Crystal. Girl can dance.”

“Definitely.”

“Have you talked to the others since we got back?”

“Uhh... no. I’m sorta avoiding them.” I said rubbing the back of my neck.

“You know that they’ll want to talk to you about it eventually right? I’m sure they’re worried about you.”

I was unsure of what to do because I didn’t really want to talk to them about it but I knew I had to. After another hour of avoiding it, I got up and made my way to Alex’s room. I knocked on the door timidly and waited for it to open.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just was wondering if I could talk to you all?” I said as I saw almost all the older players in her room.

“Of course.”

We got to talking about what happened and I told them about the condition I had and when it first appeared and all the while Alex held me in her lap, cooing in my ear when I would start to get emotional and the others sat around us doing there best to let me know they were there.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Ashlyn asked

“I was just afraid.”

“You don’t ever have to be afraid to tell us these things. I’m sorry you felt the need to hide it from us.” JJ said.

“I know today was scary for everyone. I think I should tell the whole team everything soon.”

“Are you sure? You shouldn’t feel like you have to, if you’re not ready that’s okay too.”

“I am, it’s okay. Will you guys be there?”

“Of course, always.”

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too.”

I knew that some of them were still a little hurt that I hadn’t told them sooner or they felt bad because they weren’t able to protect me but I knew we would be okay.

we agreed to be more honest with each other going forward and When it came time for me to tell the entire team the older players were there to support me and help me explain everything. They were all super supportive and assured me that they didn’t see me any differently.

After our heart to heart we decided to do some much needed team bonding.

Rose showed me a Tick tok of a bulldog trying to reach a cake that was just out of its reach and failing (or succeeding) spectacularly as it splattered in the floor.

“Wilma would totally do this!” I said laughing at the thought of Rose’s dog doing something similar.

“She totally would but I would give her a hand.” Rose giggled.

Kelley succeeded in putting a cup on her head with only her feet and I was in awe of her flexibility. I attempted to do the same but I failed miserably and pouted as everyone laughed at me.

“Good try kid. You’ll get it eventually.” Kel said.

We ended up playing cup pong (the clean version), Jenga, Sorry, Truth or Dare, and twister. We also tried playing hide and seek through out the hotel but we got in trouble with the managerial staff and almost got the whole team kicked out. Let’s just say that Vlatko was not too pleased…

Sam, Rose, Sonnett, Lindsey and Mal choreographed a new dance and performed it for everyone. We all watched for over an hour as these knuckleheads tried to get it all down perfectly.

“Oh my god you guys, try again tomorrow when you actually know the dance.” Tobin said exasperated

“No, no we can do this. Right guys?”

“Yes we can.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Just give us a minute.”

“We got this.”

We watched on as they tried and failed to prove that they had it, but we all gave them an A+ for effort anyways.

“We would have gotten it, if you guys had just been patient enough.” Sam grumbled.

“We watched for over an hour, you know this team, they can’t sit still forever.” I giggled.

“I guess you’ve got a point.” Sam chuckled.

“Hey! We’re not that bad at sitting still.” Kelley protested.

“Uh, yeah Kel. We are.”

The whole team giggled at that and agreed that together asking us to sit still for long periods was useless.

After that we made pies and cupcakes and they were actually really good, but things took a turn when I decided to smash Ali’s face in a pie. She then chased me down the hall trying to get me back.

“Y/N, get back here!”

“Becky! Save me!”

“No way kid. Not trying to get punched.” She said before she closed her door.

“Traitor!” I yelled as I continued to run from a pissed off Ali Krieger.

She eventually caught up to me and attacked me with kisses and tickles. I ended up covered head to toe in pie filling after she got hers all over me and then found another one and got revenge.

“Aw man, you got me.” I said as I giggled wildly as she tickled me some more.

“This whole team loves you so much. You know that right?” Alex would later tell me that night as we all snuggled on the two beds in the room I shared with Morgan.

“Yeah, I know. I love you guys too.”

They drive me nuts with the constant hovering and weird, silly rules they make me follow but I am so grateful to have them in my life and to have such an amazing group of friends who love and support me no matter what. Me and my 23 best friends are family for life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

THE END

If I got anything wrong, I’m so sorry. I did the best research that I could. Sorry for any mistakes.

-N

#uswnt #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #alex morgan #ashlyn harris #ali krieger #becky sauerbrunn #christen press #morgan brian #crystal dunn #megan rapinoe #tobin heath #kelley o'hara #sam mewis #mal pugh #rose lavelle #lindsey horan #emily sonnett

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rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: Moonlit Ever After Pt 2

Luz hopped off her staff in front of the portal, letting King down to scamper back into the house with Eda and Lilith before she stepped through the door. That uncomfortable magicless feeling washed over her and she shook herself as she dashed out of the old shack.

She jogged to her mother’s house, today was Halloween, so no one walking up and down the street even blinked an eye at her as jogged past in her usual witchy attire, staff on her back.

She'd have to bring Amity here next Halloween. They could do something fun for their first anniversary and just walk around as they were and no one would think twice.

"Mami, you home?" Luz peeked her head in the door, not bothering with knocking.

"Coming, Mija!"

Her mother appeared on the stairs, her hair lying in a shiny, flat curtain against her back and dressed in a knee-length, dark green dress, a belt cinched around her waist.

"Ay, looking good, Mami!" Luz grinned, shooting her a finger gun.

"Thank you, baby, but wait until you see Amity." She smiled knowingly, and color Luz intrigued. She of course was already waiting on bated breath to see her soon to be wife, but her mother making mention of it has her even more excited.

"Was she beautiful in her dress? I mean, I know she must be, she's always beautiful, even when she first gets up and is grumpy and has bed head and morning breath…," Luz rambled excitedly and her mother just smiled knowingly at her. It was always nice to see the ways in which Luz hadn’t changed while she was away; made it feel like she hadn’t missed quite so much.

"That girl just owns you, heart and soul, doesn't she?" Camila laughed, bringing her rambling to a halt and Luz chuckled, cheeks pink, scratching the back of her head.

"Yeah." She can only nod in agreement, she couldn’t even think to deny it.

"As for her dress, you'll just have to wait and see, Mija."

"I'd rather wait till tonight anyway." Luz shrugged with a smile. "Are you ready to go?"

"Si, si, let's go, you need to start getting ready, your hair is a mess." Her mother fussed, trying to smooth her windswept locks.

"I'll fix it after I shower," Luz laughed, but resigned herself to letting her mother fuss over her.

When they returned to the Owl House Gus and Edric were waiting there, dressed in their matching dark blue dress shirts under black vests and coats. Luz is glad to see that Edric has shaved off his mustache. She didn’t mind it, but she knew Amity hated it and was threatening to ban him from all photos if he didn’t shave it off.

“You guys are early!” Luz smiled as they walked into the house. Camila greeted the boys before walking into the kitchen where the Clawthorne sisters were sitting at the kitchen table.

“Better early than late, right?” Edric grinned.

“Amity would kill you.” Luz grinned back.

“Too true, sis.” Edric nodded sagely, arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you excited?” Gus grinned gleefully at her, bouncing on his toes.

“Very, I gotta go shower and get dressed. You guys got everything else taken care of?”

“Everything is set up at the tree.” Gus nodded.

“We stopped by the school too, they have everything just about set up there too,” Edric gave her a thumbs up.

“Great, I’ll be back in a little bit!” she hurried up the stairs and the sound of the shower running followed.

Two hours to curtain time and everyone in the owl house was in the living room, waiting on Luz.

“Have you heard from the girls today?” Lilith looked at Edric who nodded.

“Em just messaged me that they’re leaving for the school now, so everything is on schedule,” he confirmed.

“Now if we can just get the other bride to get a move on,” Eda snorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“She should be down any minute now,” Lilith replied.

As if summoned, a door closed upstairs and Luz thumped down the stairs.

“How do I look?” Luz asked nervously as she finally appeared from upstairs, making her family look up, and they went quiet.

Luz stood in front of them in her shiny dress shoes and white pants, her button-up shirt a vivid violet, tucked into her pants under the white vest and tie knotted smoothly against her neck. Her long hair combed back carefully, laying against her back atop the matching white, tailed coat.

She does a little spin and Camila is already tearing up as she looks at her, while her soon to be brother-in-law whistles.

“You look amazing, Luz!” Gus gushes.

“Sharp as ever, Kid.” Eda smiles at her softly from the couch.

“Amity will be smitten even further, if possible, the moment she lays eyes on you,” Lilith agreed with a nod and smile as Luz chuckled.

“Thanks, guys.” she fretted nervously with the buttons of her coat and smoothed the perfectly straight, bright white tie.

“Why all the white? No one here believes you're a virgin,” Eda cackled and Luz flushed brightly against the stark color. Camila shook her head, exasperated by the gray-haired witch. Edric wheezed at that while Gus just flushed.

“I just liked how it looked…,” she mumbled.

“You look wonderful, Mija,” Camila assured her, walking up to her smoothing her coat before cupping her cheeks in her hands. “¡Oh, mi bebé se va a casar!” Camila smooshed her cheeks as her eyes got misty.

“Mami, por favor…,” Luz begged, prying her mother’s hands off her cheeks.

“¡Amity es una chica muy afortunada!” Camila sniffled, making Luz smile.

“I think I’m the lucky one…,” Luz mumbled, grinning at her mother, who smiled at that.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re both very lucky, you can be sickeningly in love together for the rest of your lives,” Eda broke the moment with a grin. “Are we ready or what?”

“We got the rings?” Gus asked and King held up the two boxes in his clawed hands. “Do you have your vows?” he turned to Luz.

“Vows?” Luz repeated, blinking before she slaps her hands against her face. “...I forgot to write vows…,” she said quietly, staring wide-eyed into the air with horror, mouth hanging open and Eda starts to laugh uncontrollably, doubling over on the couch as Edric snorts, trying to choke back his laughter while Lilith sighs, shaking her head, fingers pressed to her temple.

“Luz…,” Gus sighed, pressing his hands to his face.

“Mija…” her mother is shaking her head tiredly.

“It’s okay! I got this, I am a master of improv!” she insists. “I mean, it’s basically just saying things I love about Amity, I can do that in my sleep!”

“She can, I’ve heard her yammering about her in her sleep.” King nodded, rolling his eyes.

“See?” Luz held her hands at the demon.

“I dunno if this is the best time to be practicing your improv, Luz,” Gus said, worried.

“Well we have to leave now, there’s no time to write any,” Lilith sighed.

“Ride with me kid, you can jot down some thoughts on the way over,” Eda said, finally standing, and wiping mirthful tears out of her eyes.

“I don’t need to write anything down, trust me, I got this!” Luz insists, hands on her hips.

“It’s your wedding/ funeral.” Eda shrugs and holds out her hand, something crashes in the bowels of the house before her staff flies into her hand. “Let’s get this matrimony show on the road!”

They pile out of the house into the front yard.

“Come on, Mami, you can ride with me,” Luz said as she hopped on her staff.

Camila nervously climbed on behind her and Luz grinned as she clung to her as they lifted off the ground.

Edric and Gus are already taking off on their own staves with Eda and Lilith behind them, Luz following along a little slower for her mother’s sake, who clings to her tightly.

“It's okay, Mami, I may never have learned to drive, but I am a master with a staff,” she promised.

Camila squeezed her tighter. Luz just smiled to herself and kept flying, slow and even toward the cliffside where they were getting married.

Amity and the rest of the girls were going to be at the school while Luz and the boys would go straight to the tree. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, the moon already rising across the sky, and it’s blue hue was apparent to all, though it yet had no light of its own as the sun’s bright orange rays drowned it out as it dropped below the horizon line, casting bright oranges and pinks across the sky.

Luz smiled to herself as they approached, she could see the bright pink tree standing tall over the rest of the forest. When they touched down she grinned to herself, the tree was still in full bloom, even though its pink leaves and flowers were slowly falling from their branches with every stray gust of wind. Even better were the hundreds of little orbs of light floating in the air above them, lighting the area up with their gentle glow.

It was a simple set up, there was a long dark rug stretched from under the tree, back out into the forest toward the school, where a large curtain had been set up in the trees where Amity would appear later. The cliffs on the other side and several rows of white folding chairs on either side,

A few people had already arrived and were sitting around talking, including Bump, several of the council members, and some of her and Amity’s friends and old allies from the various covens.

It was happening here in just a scant hour. They were getting married.

Luz swallowed, suddenly feeling a little stiff as she looked around at everything. Was her tie too tight? She suddenly found it hard to breathe and wondered for a moment if her PTSD was choosing this moment to make the worst timed appearance of all time, but there’s no quiet buzzing under her skin or whispering in the back of her mind, it’s blissfully quiet, though she suddenly feels an anxiousness settle in the pit of her stomach. It feels different than the kind that usually accompanies one of those days.

She fidgeted with her sleeves, foot-tapping anxiously on the ground, drawing both her mothers’ gaze.

“Mija?” Camila looks at her, concerned.

“You okay, Kid?” Eda tilts her head.

“YEaH…” her voice cracked a little and she cleared her throat. “Yeah, I just…” She glanced around, unsure.

“Oh,” Eda smirked, seeming to catch on. “Finally getting cold feet?” she asked knowingly.

“What? No! I just… I dunno, I just feel so nervous all of a sudden.” she frowned.

“That’s perfectly normal, Luz.” Her mother laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “This is a big step in your relationship with Amity, a lifelong commitment, It's natural to be nervous," she soothed.

"Yeah, you still wanna marry her right?" Eda slapped her hand atop Luz's other shoulder.

"Of course I do!" Luz nodded. "I guess it's just… it never felt like this day was ever actually going to get here… now it is and It's like I just did a milk shot. My stomach is all squirmy." She placed her hands over her stomach, frowning.

"I felt the same way before I married your Papi," Camila admitted and that made Luz's racing nerves screech to a grinding halt.

The most she knew about her dad was that he had died before she was born, her mother had never wanted to talk about it when she was a kid, always telling her that they would talk about it when she was older, but then she'd vanished for the last six years. It had never really bothered her, she'd just gotten used to functioning as though she didn't have a dad, since she actually never had, and she had being the school weirdo to contend with most of her first fourteen years.

"Huh?" Is all she can get her mouth to say as she looks at her mother.

Camila's smile is soft and sad. It had been over twenty years, but she still found it hard to talk about, she'd even gone as far as getting rid of all the photos, they had just been too painful to look at at the time and pictures of their daughter had taken up the spaces left empty on the walls shortly after.

Till Luz had vanished, then they too had been packed away, but she had gotten her baby back and more in the form of her soon to be daughter-in-law.

"We'll talk about it soon, I promise, Luz, but for now, trust me, this is normal and once you see Amity all those nerves will go away.” Camila smiled at her daughter.

“Yeah,” Eda threw in. “I’ve been watching you two be grossly in love for six years, you two are sickeningly perfect for each other.” She grinned, squeezing Luz’s shoulder.

Luz took a deep breath and tried to quell the flipping in her stomach.

“Right, I know… I should go... talk to some of the guests…,” she mumbled before walking over to the coven heads who were seated already.

“Hmm, we should keep an eye on her…” Eda set a fist on her hip and Camila nodded as they watched Luz chat with the group of witches.

~ ~

Amity took a deep breath as she stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing the imaginary wrinkles from her dress, her fingers brushing the brooch Luz had given her, pinned to the left of her chest, she never took it off. Just next to it, beneath the top of her dress was the power amulet Lilith had given her for her fifteenth birthday, she was never without that either, it had saved her life a few times during her many battles, and powered the final spell of the war.

Another pillar crashed to the floor, in the wake of Amity’s flaming abomination, set ablaze by Luz’s glyphs shoved inside of it and raising a cloud of dust and debris that stung her eyes as the two teenagers dived behind another pillar to catch their breath while the creature distracted the weakened Emperor.

The castle was shaking and trembling as witches fired off spell after spell in every hall and corridor in the place. Rebels and loyalists fighting bitterly everywhere, dust fell from the ceiling with the force of the magics that battered the walls and ceilings from every direction. Even the floor beneath their feet is a mass of broken and loose stone from the force of the attacks being flung about the room.

Amity hissed, looking down at her leg, blood was dripping down her calf and into her boot, but she didn’t have time for that, she could tend her injuries when Belos was dead.

“I’m nearly at my limit…,” Luz panted quietly, knees shaking and Amity sucked in a sharp breath at that.

Once, Luz had claimed that her glyphs didn’t suck up energy or make her tired the way Amity’s own spellcasting did. One thing the war had taught them was that that was horribly untrue. Luz had just never needed to expend that much energy on the small glyphs she usually used in day to day life to notice the drain. Hours or even days of endless fighting had proved that her form of magic did suck up her energy, till she could barely lift her head, an alarming thing they had discovered after the first few battles of the war. After that, Luz had to learn to better monitor and sparse out her magic, though it certainly made her a much shrewder and acute fighter.

Amity grit her teeth, she’s exhausted too. It had been a blow for blow firefight just to get them to this point, then just to weaken him enough that he could no longer meld into the floors and walls. She cursed under her breath, she knows she can’t do this alone, and the others are all fighting elsewhere, their next attack is going to be their last and they need to make it count, or every spilled drop of blood and snuffed out life will have been for nothing.

An explosion sends bits of singed abomination goo across the room, beyond its ability to reform. Their time is nearly up.

Her mind is a whirling mass of thoughts.

“Come out, children.” Belos’ low voice echoed in the cavernous room, but she can tell it’s strained. They’re not the only ones injured. Amity squeezed Luz’s arm, drawing exhausted brown eyes to her, allowing her to see the long cut, seeping blood on her cheek.

“I need you to hold on just a little longer, love. I have a plan.” Amity’s voice is a tight whisper in Luz’s ear and her white-knuckled grip on her staff tightens further as she jerks a nod.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Stone cracks behind the pillar and Belos turns to it, eyes blazing beneath his mask.

He rounds the pillar, staff raised above his head but an abomination lunges around him, covering him in its gelatinous body, and before he can move it glows blue and ice erupts across its gooey flesh, freezing solid around him; trapped.

The crackling of a portal, makes him turn his head as far as he can to see the two teenagers appear behind him.

Amity stood behind a trembling Luz as she held a fire glyph in front of her. Between the ice glyphs and the portal, Amity’s left arm wrapped tightly around her waist is all that keeps her standing, and sheer willpower is all that stands between Amity and passing out.

Amity reached around, power amulet in hand, and grabbed Luz’s trembling hand gripping the glyph card, the stone amulet pressed between their skin is warm, alive with magic she’s been storing for months and she wills the stored power free.

They were both enveloped in the bright magenta glow and then the glyph blazed to life and fire erupted like a volcano from it, the sweltering heat licks at their skin, and the thunderous sound of the roaring blaze pounds in their ears.

Their eyes slammed shut against the blinding, white-hot light. It seemed to drag on and on, before finally, the amulet’s power is expended and the flames faded to flickering embers, leaving them in the dimly lit room, blinking away the spots in their vision.

Luz panted, slipping to her knees, and Amity drops behind her, head on her shoulder and arms limp. They poured everything they had left into that one spell.

When her vision finally cleared, Amity, with great effort, lifted her head to find that where the Emperor had once stood is nothing more than a large, smeared, black stain against the singed stone wall. A pile of ash is all that remains, along with a half-melted, broken staff.

She waits, holding her breath, eyes flickering around the room, as if waiting for him to pop out of the shadows and finish them both, it would be easy, they’re boneless and have nothing left to give, but the longer they sit there on their knees, Luz’s ragged panting the only sound in the room, nothing happens. Her grip on Luz tightens and tears prick at the corner of her eyes.

“He’s ...dead…” her choked voice is foreign to her own ears, but it makes Luz lift her head and she looks at the smeared pile of ash that is all that remains of the once tyrant Emperor of The Boiling Isles.

“It's over…” her voice is barely a whisper and she’s so tired. She relaxes and her consciousness slips away, body slumping to the floor.

“Luz?… Luz!” Amity leans down, pressing a pointed ear to Luz’s back, and relaxes when she hears the steady rhythm beating inside her chest. It takes the last dregs of her strength to pull Luz’s limp body up so her head lays against her chest.

They stay there until the rest of the rebellion bursts into the throne room and finds them, both unconscious on the floor together.

She shook her head, casting away those thoughts, and drags her finger away from the amulet. She hasn’t had to use it since, but its presence is comforting. She knows the devastating power she can unleash with it.

A knock on the empty classroom door makes her jerk.

“Come in.” She glanced over her shoulder as her sister poked her head in the door and smiled as she looked at her sister in her dress, auburn hair done in perfect, bouncy curls, and her makeup done immaculately, if Emira did say so herself, she had done it after all.

“Hey sis, we got like, thirty minutes, you bout ready?”

Amity nodded, still fiddling with her clothes as Emira stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

“Still nervous?” she smiled gently as she stood behind her and Amity looked at her in the reflection of the mirror.

“Actually, no. I was this morning, I thought I was going to throw up after breakfast but now I’m just… excited.” She smiled and Emira grinned at her and flicked a few of her curls with her finger.

“You should be, Ed was just here, apparently our new little sis looks sharp enough to cut. Said you better hold tight to your heart when you see her,” Emira laughed and Amity’s smile turned into a toothy grin. Luz was pretty content most of the time to just throw on something clean under her cloak, but Amity was intimately aware of her ability to turn the knob all the way to the max on her appearance when she wanted. More than once she had left Amity near speechless on special occasions, and as far as special occasions went, she couldn’t think of one Luz would put more effort into than their wedding.

“I’ll do my best,” Amity chuckled.

“Alright, we’ll be waiting out front when you’re ready.” She threw over her shoulder as she turned to go. Amity nodded and the door closed. She took another breath and picked up the bouquet of blood-blossoms sitting on one of the desks and smiled at them, running her fingers over the petals The flowers always made her think of Luz, being the same kind she had once put on her locker.

She’d been the first one to ever gift flowers to her.

Actually, Luz had been her first… well, everything. Crush, kiss, girlfriend, love.

She won’t say first wife, because that implied that she might have a second someday and Amity has no plans to ever let that happen, and maybe it’s naive, but she’s sure that she’s going to be with the human all the rest of her life.

They’ve known lots of other couples over the years and it always astounded both of them how some other couples could argue about things that could so easily be fixed if they just talked about it. Sure, they fight sometimes, but never for long and never anything like the screaming matches they’ve witnessed other couples have. Ugly, knock-down drag outs that leave someone in tears. The only times they’ve left the other in angry tears have been because the other did something dangerously stupid.

Usually, it was Amity, but after the battle at the knee, it had been Luz, who had screamed at her for fifteen minutes while sobbing. Maybe it wasn’t the smart thing to do, too so carelessly throw her life around, but she meant it and means it still. She would always put her life on the line for her and that argument was quickly ended by Amity telling her that she damn well would have done the same thing and she knew it, and her life was worth no more or less then Luz’s

That stopped the screaming, but it didn’t stop the tears, it took a while for those to stop.

It’s strange when she thinks about it, loving someone so wholly and fiercely that the threat of her own death seems like such a trivial thing in the face of losing her, that someone can make her feel so totally fearless in one moment and then terrified to breathe the next.

Amity huffs, smiling to herself. It sounds so sappy, like something straight out of the pair’s favorite book series, but she and Luz have a powerful bond, forged first out of love and affection, then the complete and total trust that could only come from being tempered with blood and the fires of war.

If Luz told her to jump off a cliff Amity knows she would do it because she trusts Luz above all else; she always had a plan.

Amity rolled her eyes at herself. She’s such a sap, not that Luz is any better, which makes her feel a little better.

Their friends are right.

They are gross.

There’s a knock on the door and Amity straightened.

“I’m coming, Em!”

The door opened but her sister didn’t say anything. Amity turned and stopped.

“Dad…,” she breathes as she stared back at her father, standing in the doorway.

Alador Blight smiled at her.

“May I come in?” he asked her.

“Of course!” she nods and he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

She can only stare at him as he crossed the room to stand in front of her, gold eyes aglow in the last bits of light coming in the classroom window, the sun has set, but a faint orange glow still rests on the horizon, slowly being overtaken by the blue glow of the bright, full, blue moon that is rising overhead.

“You look breath-taking, Amity.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you came.” she smiled at him, and she is. For all their disconnects over the years and her hurt feelings at his absence as a child, she can’t stop loving the man in front of her, and because she knows her dad loves her, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.

Alador’s smile fades at that.

“I apologize for not being able to send Thrasus to you sooner, I have been rather preoccupied with your mother.” Nothing about that surprised Amity, but his next words did. “Getting her to agree to unbind our eternal oath has been a tiresome affair.” His brows furrowed between his eyes, frown deepening.

“What?!” Amity blinks wildly at that, her eyes dart to her father’s left hand, and sees that he no longer wore the gold band that had sat on his finger since before she could remember.

Alador folded his hands behind his back and looked pensive.

“I loved your mother dearly once, but I have realized in recent years that I let that blind me to certain things that I should have seen, especially things concerning you and your siblings.” He looked so tired right now, the lines in his face are deep rivers around her mouth and beneath his eyes. “When you left Blight manor to live with Luz they suddenly became clear, and after questioning Edric and Emira, I’m ashamed to admit that I let so much get by me that should not have, and for that, I am truly sorry, Amity.”

Amity chewed her bottom lip. She wants to say it’s fine, but it isn’t and they both know it. Luz told her once that it was okay to not be okay, and she was right.

“Thank you.” Is what she settles on and Alador nods.

“I've spent the last three years trying to understand and find that woman I once know, but after you came to the Manor and told us about the wedding, I realized that she does not exist anymore.” He turned his head away and Amity can see the sorrow on his face. She reached out and took his hand, drawing his gaze back to her.

“It’s over between the two of you?” she questions and he nods.

“I’m sorry,” and she means that. She’s sorry her father is hurt.

“To be completely honest with you, I don’t think the woman I knew ever existed, I chose not to see. I’ve always known that your mother did not care for me the same way I cared for her, but I hoped it was more than I thought. I could have spared myself twenty-five years of wasted time had I been willing to accept that when I was young, I did not, but despite that, I can’t find it in myself to regret all that time.”

“How can you not regret wasting half your life on someone you know didn’t love you back?” Amity can’t understand that at all.

Alador only chuckled at that as he looked at her, gold eyes the same shade as her own staring back at her. He turned his hand over to hold her, dwarfed in his much larger one as he held her hand between both of his.

“Because what I got was worth much more.”

Amity fully anticipated she would cry today, expected it, but not before the wedding even started.

Alador tuts and pulls the kerchief from his breast pocket and dabs at her wet eyes.

“There is no time for that, Amity. If you’re going to cry, then save those tears for Luz.”

She laughs, despite herself and nods, willing back the water.

“I’m glad to know that you won’t face a similar problem in the future”

“How can you know that?” she asked, she knows it’s true, she does, if there is one thing in life she doesn’t doubt, it’s Luz.

“I’ve seen the way that woman looks at you enough times to know that she cares for you just as dearly as you do for her,” Is her dad’s simple answer. “I’m sure you’ll be quite preoccupied after the ceremony, so I came to tell you that I’m proud of you, Amity, you’ve proven yourself to be so much stronger than I could have ever hoped.”

Amity just smiles and Alador pulled his pocket watch from his pocket and popped open the face.

“I believe it’s time for you to go, my dear.” He smiled and Amity nodded. He turned and started for the door.

“Dad…,” Amity called and he stopped, turning to look at her over his shoulder. She hesitates for a moment but carries on. “Would you walk me down the aisle?”

His eyes widened at that and he turned to face her completely.

He looks like he wants to question her, she can see the jump in his jaw, through his mouth never opens to voice any of them.

“Yes,” he finally said and Amity smiled, and walked up to him, slipping her arm through his.

“Then we better go.”

He nods, and they leave the school.

#Lumity #moonlit masquerade #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Edric Blight #Emira Blight #Eda Clawthorne #Lilith Clawthorne #Camila Noceda #Gus Porter #Willow park #Alador Blight #gay #fic #toh #the owl house

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years

Text

2 part Commission Work - Harry Hook x Reader - part 2 - the masked princess

commissioned by @musicarose

You sat sluggishly at your desk, the weekend had been harsh, your sister barging into your room constantly to rant about…well about you, but she didn’t know that.

And now apparently, Harry Hook was on the look for the masked girl who had run off before the reveal. And it hurt to hear your sister spit insults about you.

You thought Audrey had gotten better, but she still had work to do.

You stiffened as harry sat next to you, doing your best to not look at him, in fear of blushing heavily or blurting out the truth.

you wished you could tell him, but you were scared he wouldn’t like the girl under the mask and avoid you like everyone else did.

“good morning class! Today, we are going to start on a team project!” the class, including you groaned. “now, now it’s a simple research paper, im sure you can handle that, now I will be assigning you groups because SOME of you- “ the teacher eyed the students, who shrunk in their seats “like to exclude others so!”

The teacher took out the attendance sheet and went down the list, marking off as she grouped teams of two and three.

You looked to harry in the corner of your eye, he was just doodling on the edge of his paper. and as you looked closer, you saw your mask from the ball, on top of your hidden face.

‘hes drawing…me?’ you thought, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.

“mister hook and miss (whatever last name), you two will be partners” you jumped, yelping out as you hit your knee on the desk.

The class turned to you, laughter in their eyes, you blushed and looked away. You didn’t see harry glare back and knock his fist harshly against his desk, the class flinched and turned back to the front.

You zoned out the rest of the class, your foot tapping on the ground constantly.

Someone poked your shoulder, making you squeak and turn to them. “uh-uh hi?” Harry chuckled and gave you a soft smile and an eyebrow raise.

“hi luve, im harry, Harry Hook, and yeh are?” he held out his hand, you gently grasped it, mind flashing back to when he kissed the back of your hand.

You shook hands, a blush clear on your face “im-im (y/n)” harry nodded, releasing your hand and leaning back in his chair.

“I've seen yeh before, but I don’t know where?” you sighed, shoulders slagging down.

“im-im audreys little sister” harry nodded slowly, then shook his head.

“no I think I've seen yeh somewhere else…” you froze, hands clenched in your lap. He snapped his fingers and pointed at you “oh, at the engagement party!” you breathed a sigh of relief, then paused.

“wait, I was only there for like- five minutes, and then I left?” Harry shrugged.

“im good at remembering faces” he laughed, it was odd, just like the night of the ball, you had become easily comfortable with him.

“well, I kinda zoned out on the topic?” you gave a vague gesture to him, he snorted and shook his head.

“no specific topic, we just gotta research somethin’” you hummed and tapped your desk.

“how bout…pirates? Since that would be something we're both interested in?” Harry sat up straight and looked at you surprised.

“yer interested in pirates?” you nodded eagerly and tapped your hands on your thighs.

“yeah! When I was a kid I would sneak off to the library and look for stories and books with pirates in them, my dad and grandparents didn’t really like it but my mom always encouraged me to keep learning, no matter what topic it was- sorry im rambling”

You shyly ended, rubbing the back of your neck, harry frowned, reaching out and cupping your cheek "someones told yeh that yeh talk too much, who?”

Oyu paused, looking at his wrist “u-uh-aud-aud-“ Harry let out a low sigh.

“yer sister, she's a nasty one, any tips ta get ‘er ta leave me alone?” you blinked surprised, leaning away from his hand.

“you-you want her to leave you alone?” harry swallowed harshly and rubbed his arm.

“she- shes not really…personally aware? And she makes me uncomfortable and its obvious that she only likes my face n crap”

You locked your jaw and furrowed your brows “and here I thought she learned from ben, ill see what I can do”

Harry softly smiled and nodded “thanks lass” the bell finally rang, the teacher calling the end of the team quite time and dismissing the class.

“the paper is due next month on the second! Have a good rest of your day!”

You stood from your desk, stuffing all your books and notes in your bag.

“So lass, well meet up at lunch alright?” you whipped around to look at Harry, who was smiling at you. “is tha’ okay” he frowned slightly, realizing he might have made you uncomfortable.

“no, no! it's okay, just didn’t expect that….no one usually willingly hangs out with me after…audreys stunt” harry looked offended and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“well, im changing that today, yer gonna met meh friends uma n gil alright? You’ll love em, after all” he grinned down at you “we’re pirates” he teased.

You blushed and looked away, though you didn’t remove his arm.

“Hey by the way” you looked back at him “do yeh know that masked girl from the masquerade ball? The one that was in that blue ombre dress?” you slowly shook your head.

“no, i-I didn’t go” Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Alright…”

You did your best to ignore his face and the tone of his voice.

Well…uma knew who you were, she had immediately reconsigned your voice and had pulled you into a corner and told you.

She didn’t tell Harry thankfully or force you to tell him, she took one look at you and knew you were scared of what would happen.

So she left that alone and became a friend.

So as the date of the research paper drew closer, you and harry were around each other more often than not. And honestly? Even if you didn’t like him all to hell and back you would have been very happy to have a friend like him.

He had legit swore at a group of kids who were whispering about you and trying to tell him to avoid you.

You were invited to crew nights at Umas dorm, eating breakfast lunch and dinner with Harry, Uma, and Gil.

You were finally breaking out of your little shell, and beginning to not care about what all the other students thought.

You still couldn’t bear the thought of telling harry you were the masked girl, you knew he would be disappointed.

Though one day, when you had to study for the paper in your private dorm room because of the rain outside and the library being closed.

Harry was bored and starting doing….Harry things and poking around your room as he waited for you to return with the books you left in your locker.

As he looked under your bed, his eyes locked with a large blue box. He tilted his head, and pulled it out, sitting back on his heels and slowly opening the box.

His breath stopped as his eyes connected with the elegant mask of the girl from the masquerade ball.

“all this time” he muttered, gently picking it up and brushing his thumb against the nose “it was yeh”

“How did you find that” harry turned, eyes widening as he locked eyes with you.

You looked terrified, clutching the books to your chest “you weren't-I wasn’t- I didn’t!” harry stood, quickly waking over to you and grabbing the books and tossing them on your bed. then grabbing your shoulders, instructing you to breathe with him.

“Hey hey hey! Im not mad, yer fine, yer fine! Its okay, breath with me love breathe~” you grabbed his arms and tried to breathe, feeling tears burn at your eyes.

“you-you're not disappointed?” you whimpered, a look of sadness and….love? came over his face.

“disappointed? Love im happy! Who knew the girl I've been fallin’ for was the same as the girl who stole meh heart at the ball”

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped “you-you- falling for?”

“aye” he lifted his hand from your shoulder, cupping your cheek and gently stroking your cheek with his thumb “im falling for yeh…my princess”

You could feel the intense blush rise to your face, so you lunged forward and buried your face in his chest. You felt his laughter rumble in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“can I kiss yeh?” he whispered, your head shot up, looking into his bright ocean blue eyes. You nodded slowly, fluttering your eyes closed as Harry leaned in.

And pressed the softest, purest kiss to your lips.

As he pulled away, you couldn’t open your eyes, “yer smiling” you heard him chuckle. You opened your eyes biting your lip.

“That was my first kiss” you whispered, harry hummed in surprise, then gave you his classic flirty grin.

“How bout I give yeh a second one?”

“yes please,” Harry leaned back in, pressing a slightly more passionate kiss to your lips, though he kept it soft as not to scare you.

It was funny when your sister walked in, about to rant once more about harry being obsessed with the masked girl, when she saw harry on top of you on your bed.

Harry just looked at her, gave her his middle finger, and resumed in his quest of giving you the best kiss of your life.

“(Y/N)!!!”

---end~---

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#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #commission work #now onto encore!

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jjungkookislife · 4 years

Text

Wait Until I’m Back

ღ first post of my reject list. This means this will not be continued and was essentially a part 2 to I Don’t Wanna Waste This Moment

pairing: namjoon x gender neutral reader

genre: angst, fluff?

wc: 3k

title credit: this song

warnings: cursing, namjoon is angry for most of this, Jin gives some bad love advice, they/them pronouns

date: April 7, 2020

Namjoon fought against the youngest member but it was no use. Jungkook’s hold on him wasn’t going to ease up until he shoved Namjoon into his seat. Namjoon stood, only to be pushed back into his seat by Jungkook, who pulled his face mask down to fully look at his leader. “We don’t have time for your unrequited love, hyung.”

“It’s not unrequited, they just said so! I need to get off and tell them I love 'em!” Namjoon is growing hysterical as he struggles against Jungkook while the other members look on with bemused expressions.

“Jungkook, what’s going on?” Taehyung is the first to speak, the others leaning over his shoulder to see Namjoon trying to fight off the maknae.

“Namjoon is trying to get off the plane,” Jungkook explains curtly, his fierce eyes not leaving his leader’s.

“Are you sick?” Jimin’s worried voice speaks up as he tries to analyze the situation.

“He’s not sick, he’s trying to get back to Y/n,” his eyes move upward to meet Jimin’s, who quirks his head to the side in confusion.

“Are they sick?” Jin asks as he takes a step forward to inspect the situation further. By now Namjoon has stopped trying to get out of Jungkook’s iron-clad hold, breathing heavily for his efforts.

“They’re in love with me,” Namjoon murmurs, his thoughts reeling in his head as you appear in his mind looking utterly heartbroken at his lack of response.

“Isn’t that a good thing? You’ve loved them for years,” Yoongi finally speaks up as he takes a seat across from Namjoon.

“I didn’t have time to say anything before Jungkook dragged me away,” Namjoon huffs in anger and annoyance as he pushes his hand to push Jungkook away from him as the flight attendant appears to inform them of their impending departure once they are all seated.

“You can tell them when we get back,” Jin states firmly as he sits beside Namjoon, making Jungkook move to the back.

“In three months?!” Namjoon screeches, his head falling into the palms of his hands before he harshly tugs at his hair, making Jin grip his hands tightly to hold them in his lap.

“Stop! You’re acting like a child, Namjoon. Y/n wouldn’t want you behaving like this,” Jin scolds him, making him roll his eyes before ripping his hands out of his hold to cross over his chest with his hands tucked under his arms to keep him from pulling at his hair in frustration.

“I’ve waited so long for this. How can I just leave when they finally tell me they love me? They probably think I don’t reciprocate their feelings.” Namjoon is stressing out again, his leg fidgeting as the boys talk quietly behind them.

“Text ‘em,” Hoseok suggests from his seat as the flight attendant walks by to make sure everyone has their seatbelts on.

“This isn’t something you text.” Namjoon shakes his head as he sighs heavily. What if this had been his only chance? What if by the time he came back, you’d be over him? What would he do then?

“What if it’s too late when I get back?” Namjoon airs his worries out loud, Jimin shaking his head as he looks at Taehyung for answers, but the younger doesn’t know what to do in this situation either.

“They’ve probably loved you for years. Another tour will not change their feelings about you? If their feelings are genuine for you, they’ll be there when you get back. They’re aware of what your job is, this isn’t for the faint of heart. Why do you think none of us get involved with anyone? It is what it is,” Jimin tries to come off sympathetic, but by the look on Namjoon’s face, he knows he’s missed the mark.

“Why now?” Namjoon groans out in frustration, blinking back tears he refuses to shed. Jin gives his shoulder a squeeze before turning his attention to the window as the jet begins to move slowly, making the flight attendant go over the safety information, despite them hearing it every single time they fly.

Namjoon tries his best to keep himself occupied, not wanting to let his thoughts drift off to you because he knows his heart will clench in pain at having not confessed. He wondered if you felt as dejected as he did, perhaps worse? He hoped you weren’t sitting in your room crying, wondering why he didn’t love you back when all he wanted to do was run back to you and kiss you. Years, years, he had waited for this moment. Imagined it hundreds of times, but his fear always held him back. ‘Don’t ruin the friendship’ he would tell himself every time you were wrapped up in his arms

Every time he had to leave, it got harder; his need to stay with you growing each and every day; every departure tore him apart inside. He couldn’t keep doing this, couldn’t keep leaving you, but what other choice did he have? Despite wanting to build a life with you, he couldn’t give up the one he had because it wasn’t just his life he had to consider, it was the lives of the other six men sitting around him; his family.

An angry huff escaped his lips as he tries not to draw too much attention to himself. But the others can sense the tension in the jet, their eyes roaming to glance at him before returning to their activities. The air is thick with tension, everyone too scared to speak above a whisper as to not upset their leader, but what else are they to do to keep occupied? Unlike Namjoon, the rest of them had actually gotten some sleep, so they didn’t want to sleep anymore. There was nothing left to do until Namjoon finally fell asleep, giving the opportunity to relax slightly before landing in Osaka.

The moment the jet landed, Namjoon was awake as he made sure he had his belongings so he could sprint off the jet towards the cars. He was eager to get to his hotel room in hopes of video chatting with you, but he knew that there was a small possibility that you wouldn’t want to speak with him, not after he left you without a response.

Namjoon tried to be patient, but as the minutes ticked on, his patience began to wear thin as he huffed and grumbled until he was finally allowed off. He walked past everyone, not caring to slow down and wait for his members as his security team greeted him at the gate. He adjusted his face mask before walking with his head down and his sunglasses resting on his nose. He didn’t feel like greeting the paparazzi as he normally would, so he just walked on by without giving them as much of a glance or a wave. Later on he would feel guilty about being rude, but right now all that mattered was you.

The moment he sat in the SUV, his knee bounced up and down in anticipation. He would have to wait for another member or two to join him before they could take off. All he wanted to do was go, his anger boiling through his veins as he waited and waited. His phone was in his hand, his fingers hovering over the screen as he bit his lip, deep in thought. What could he possibly say to you? How could he confess over text where you couldn’t hear the sincerity in his voice? This wasn’t how he imagined he would admit his feelings for you. This wasn’t romantic in the slightest. Had he known, he would have made some grand gesture for you, but he knew you would have been just as happy with a simple date, like your bike rides by the Han River.

“Fuck!” he cursed, agitated with everything and everyone, his members delaying their arrival because none of them wanted to be cooped up with him in a tighter space than the plane. Namjoon was a force to be reckoned with, besides Jimin, when he was angry. It took a few more long minutes before the door opened and Jin popped in.

Namjoon blinked once as the door shut before he asked, “is it just us? Can we go now?”

“Yes, everyone else is getting into the other cars. We’ll be leaving in a moment,” Jin replied as he put his seatbelt on and tried to keep his gaze forward, but he could feel the heat of his leader’s anger radiating off him. The tight space felt tense, making it hard to breathe as the door opened and the driver got in before a security guard climbed into the passenger seat. Namjoon felt slightly at ease when the car started and began its route to the hotel.

The moment Namjoon got to the hotel, he pushed past Jin to get out of the car, startling everyone in the SUV. The security guard rushed after him, making sure he was safe as he led him inside and to the elevator. Namjoon was fuming. His anger hadn’t dissipated in the slightest as he watched the floors ascend on the elevator until it finally came to a stop. His security guard stopped him from exiting the elevator, an angry huff escaping him as he waited for the guard to give him the all-clear to enter the hallway. Namjoon held his room key in his hand, following the guard as they walked down the hall, stopping in front of his room. He handed his card over to the guard, who took him and asked him to wait while he did one last sweep of the room to ensure it was safe before allowing him inside moments after.

Namjoon slammed the door, throwing his bag on the bed as he checked his phone once again to see if you had responded to any of his messages or phone calls, but all he had was texts from the other members asking if he was okay. He ignores the messages, calling you one more time as he takes his laptop out of his bag, starting it up and hoping he’ll have better luck if he tries reaching you with both electronics.

He knows he only has until after lunch to reach you before he has to go to rehearsal and he’s desperate to talk to you before then, otherwise he’ll be unable to focus. At least, the concert isn’t until tomorrow night, but he needs to make some headway in this before then.

Your phone goes straight to voicemail once again, making him groan as he lays in his bed. A tentative knock on his door has him sitting up, getting out of bed to see who it is, he’s not surprised to see Jimin standing there with a sheepish smile.

“I was wondering if we could have lunch together so we could talk,” he mumbles as he looks at his leader. Namjoon sighs, running his hand through his hair before stepping to the side to allow Jimin in.

“Just order whatever, I’m still trying to reach, Y/n.”

“Still no luck?” Jimin asks as he takes a seat at the desk, turning the chair to face Namjoon, who shakes his head.

“Do you want me to try?” Jimin offers as he takes his phone out of his pocket.

“Yeah, maybe they’ll answer you,” Namjoon says hopefully, biting his lower lip as Jimin presses call on your name, placing it on speaker as it rings once but goes to voicemail.

“Hey, Y/n. It’s Jimin. I just wanted to check in to make sure everything is okay. Call me back,” Jimin hangs up, looking at Namjoon with an apologetic smile as he sets his phone on the desk.

“Thanks, Jimin. Hopefully, they will call back soon or after soundcheck,” Namjoon sighs as he sits on the bed, allowing Jimin to order lunch for the two of them.

You watch the phone ring in your hand, hitting ignore as you climb into the SUV, clutching your bag tightly as you get comfortable and put your seatbelt on. Your door is closed and you look straight ahead, nerves pooling in your stomach as you look out of the window, watching the buildings go by. You know you should have answered Namjoon’s call or even Jimin’s but it didn’t matter at all now because thanks to Jungkook, you’d be in their hotel in a few minutes.

You weren’t sure what Jungkook needed from you that had you urgently get on a flight to Osaka, but the way he sounded so desperate, begging and pleading for you to come to see him had you wondering if something was wrong, perhaps with Namjoon?

You didn’t want to face Namjoon, not after what happened earlier in the day and to be frank, you weren’t too thrilled to see Jungkook either, but what could you do, you were here now.

“Your bags will be taken to your room.” You nod at the security guard as you’re led inside the hotel and to the elevator, a room key in the guard’s hand as the elevator shuts. You’re thrumming with apprehension, biting your lip as you arrive on your floor, the staff giving you perplexed looks before your situation is explained and you’re handed an ID badge before being escorted to your room.

You set your bag down, a knock on your door seconds later. You open the door, seeing a bashful-looking Jungkook.

“Hey,” you greet him, allowing him into your room before shutting the door.

“Hey, I’m glad you made it here safely.”

“Yeah, me too. Are you going to tell me why I had to rush here? I don’t exactly want to look at you or anyone else for that matter,” you admit angrily, making Jungkook recoil as he steps back.

“You, you just need to be. I’ll explain later, but talk to Namjoon, please. I have to go but please answer Namjoon’s phone calls,” Jungkook insists as he rushes out of your room. You roll your eyes as you take your phone out to see a few more missed calls. You know he’ll be heading out for the rest of the afternoon, so you decide it’s best for you to wait until Jungkook lets you know that they’re back.

You take a shower, order lunch, unpack a bit and think about what you’re going to tell Namjoon when you finally speak to him after you blatantly ignored him the entire day.

Hours later, your phone rings, wakes you up. You grumble, reaching out to get it just as it stops ringing. You look at your ringing phone again and sit on the floor against the wall, not wanting to show that you’re at the hotel as you inhale deeply before answering the call.

“Y/n!” Namjoon shouts, surprised you’ve actually answered his call.

“Hey,” you murmur with a slight wave.

“Hey,” he responds, cheeks tinted pink as he gulps. He didn’t think about what he would say once he got a hold of you.

“I’m sorry about leaving earlier, I didn’t even get to say anything.”

“Forget about it, Joonie.”

“No, I don’t want to forget about it, Y/n,” his voice is firm, his gaze smoldering as he looks at you through the screen.

“Joon, I shouldn’t have said anything. You don’t feel the same and…”

“How do you know I don’t feel the same? Did you hear me say that? No, you didn’t,” Namjoon scoffs, but you sigh.

“Hold on, Joonie,” You say as you turn the camera off, rising from the floor as Namjoon asks if you’re still there.

Namjoon wonders what you’re doing, hearing rustling before the sound disappears altogether for a moment. Perplexed, he scrunches his brows as he sees the time still ticking before the sound comes back.

“Sorry,” you apologize, but don’t turn the camera on.

“Is everything okay?” Namjoon asks, worried as he wonders what you could be doing. Before you can respond, there’s a knock on Namjoon’s door. “Hold up, I gotta get the door. Don’t hang up!”

Namjoon opens the door, ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off, only to be shocked to see you standing in front of him with your phone in your hand, hanging up the call.

“Joonie,” you say before you’re scooped up in his arms, hugged tightly, the guards on the floor peek at you before returning to their duty as Namjoon pulls you into his room, shutting the door.

“What are you doing here?”

“Jungkook insisted I come,” you state as Namjoon releases you to look at you, wondering if he’s imagining you in front of him. You cross one arm over the other, feeling awkward as you look down at your feet, biting your lip.

“Of course, I’m glad you’re here! Really! I didn’t want to tell you how I felt over a text or a screen. Y/n, I know you’re probably upset and you have every right to be but I didn’t want to leave you and I tried to get back to you but I couldn’t. I love you too, so much. I know I should have said something sooner, but I just couldn’t find the words and I still can’t. I know my career is something that will keep us apart, and I don’t blame you if you don’t want to be with me because of it but if you do, if you do want to be with me despite it all, I promise to do whatever it takes to make us work.”

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, sniffling as Namjoon walks closer to you, hugging you. He kisses your forehead, holding you tight as he feels your arms wrap around him.

#bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #btswritersnet #namjoon x reader insert #namjoon x you #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst and fluff #namjoon!idol au

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