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visual-explorxtion · 4 years

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A Date With Rebecca [Rebecca Chambers x Reader] - One Shot

Summary: Taking your favourite girl on a date. Go see her favourite movie, have a candlelit dinner, take a short stroll. What more can you ask for?

A/N: Looking for some wholesome Rebecca content? Then you’ve come to the right place. Originally, I’ve planned to make this 1.5k words or less but somehow I kept adding more and more details to the story. Is it a fluff fic? Yes. Is it filled with cliché plots? Also, yes. Sometimes, cliché stuff are pretty wholesome. Bonus content if you read the whole fic ;)

Word Count: 2.7K

Hairstyle? Check. Outfit? Check. Time? You peered up from your full-length mirror and glanced at the analogue clock on the wall. The ticking dish points to 6:15 pm. Perfect, you still got time before picking up your lovely date, Rebecca. You've planned a surprise date night for her for weeks now. Only up until recently, she finally agreed and cleared up her schedule. Joy would be an understatement to describe how you are feeling right now, nevertheless, joy is the only thing that's coursing through your body. Ping! The screen of your phone illuminated in blue, revealing a text sent by your date.

'Hey! I'm on my way to our meet up point. I'll see you in 10 minutes x :)'

The message made your heart melt into a pool of jello, she even left a little kiss and a smiley face at the end. This made you even more excited to meet her, the sooner the better. With no time to lose, you grab your old-fashion helmet from the console table, reviewing yourself one last time before exiting the apartment. Keys to your scooter in your fist, you stick it in the ignition and the little yellow hunk of junk sputter to life. You smile to yourself and pray that your only transportation doesn't fail on you tonight. Index finger double tapping on the oil gauge disk displaying petrol 3/4 of the way full, tucking your hair neatly inside the helmet then you set off.

Round the corner and through the bustling streets of downtown, you parked your bike just a couple of shops down from where you're meeting Rebecca. Every step you take seems like you're walking on air, the bounce in your steps lights up every way of your path, leading you right to her. There, she stands under the fairy lights- strung from one side of the patio to the other wrapping around the redwood columns- waiting for your arrival just outside of her favourite cafe, 'Dans le bleu'. From the moment she saw you, her sweet smile has taken over her perfectly shaped face and time slows down around you as you take in the impression of her. Her hair twinkles under the warm white glow, eyes crinkled as she beams; draped in a celadon green vintage flare dress, fitted waistband hugging against her slender waist, she is your angel at heart even if she denies it.

"Hey, you look beautiful tonight." you resist the urge to pull her into your arms even with the whole world watching.

"You don't look so bad yourself. Did you style your hair? It looks great." she praised. "Should we go to eat? I think Bleu just flipped to their bar menu and I'm kinda craving pasta right now."

"Actually...I have something else planned. It's only 6:30 and I think it's still kinda early for dinner, so I have something else planned instead." you smiled mischievously.

"Oh no. What deathly things have you got planned for me." Rebecca's face drained as you chuckled at her expression.

"I'm not telling you, it's a surprise." you flashed a smug grin. "Come on, we'll be late." You grabbed her hand and tangle your fingers with hers. The warmth of her palm radiates onto yours and you can feel the nervousness and sweat running through with each beat of her pulse. But all of that did not bother you. You held her hand tighter even with the sweat binding both hands, you love her too much that you just accept every part of her.

After 15 minutes of waltzing through the artificially lit avenue, you and Rebecca both arrived at an inconspicuous movie theatre. "The cinema? But it doesn't even look like it’s in business." Rebecca frown.

The cinema looks a little out of place compared to the rest of the street. The creamy white façade has witnessed the testimony of time and history, all cracked and shedding off little pieces. But, the neon sign still glows ominously in the shade of red, the building itself it's illuminated with a standalone rustic street lamp and a retro letterbox that's yellowing with age, only one film is showing in bold letters.

"...Roman Holiday? Oh my gosh! D-did you do this?" she's dying to know as curiosity shimmers from her eyes.

"I have my ways." you winked and she playfully slaps your arm to return the gesture.

Upon entering the building, the scenery was so drastically different that you'd almost thought you stepped back in time. Or walked into a Wes Anderson movie set. Your feet landed on the carpet that was once plush and fluffy, vermillion red and sunset orange shades of intricate patterns stretched across the main entrance. The ticket booth stands in the centre of the hall with a two-tier crystal chandelier hanging above on the high rise ceiling. The leather lounge chairs face one another on either side, beige wrinkles and creases etched onto the chestnut seats with time. The pair of you gradually take in the scenery but was soon greeted by the sweet and savoury scent of popcorn. Rebecca's eye lit up with delight.

"Wait here, I'll get us popcorn." Swiftly, you turned and Rebecca's gaze follows. She watches intently as you carry two bags full of popcorn from the kiosk. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. "I didn't know which one you want so I got both." you shrug as she shakes her head in disbelief.

"The film's about to start. Let's go."

You and Rebecca found your seats with ease, considering the fact that only a dozen of people are here for this movie, scattered across the theatre in various age groups, even though you'd thought about having this screening just for the two of you instead. The lights went dim, shading your eyes in pitch blackness, then the screen comes on. The unfamiliar brightness made you squint your eyes as you shield them and blinked several times to get used to the luminosity. Actors appear in black and white, the deliverance of dialogues flows through the auditorium but not to your ears. Your eyes admire Rebecca as she’s fixated on the film. Adoration and excitement glisten in her soul, just like stars, watching this film as if it's the first time. As the story continues to play, the protagonists tour the city of Rome on a scruffy moped, her arms around his waist, riding away in this romantic getaway. You held Rebecca's hand laying on the velvet armrest, a little shock sent up her arm and she looked at your conjoined hands then up to your rosy gaze. Someday, you'd hope to take her to Rome, under the ray of the summer sun, riding on the same vintage moped and reenact the same scene in front of our very own eyes.

"That was such a good film! I haven't had this much fun in so long, I almost forgot what it feels like." she giggles. "I bet I'm going to have a sweet dream tonight."

"You'd think our date ends here? Just after one movie?" you blinked. "Honey, I'm taking you out on a date, not a movie night. We can go anywhere and do anything you want, just say the word."

Rebecca paused. "Anything?"

"Anything," you answered.

Her stomach grumbles and she laughs. "I think the first thing I want is dinner."

You chuckled along. "I think so too. You said you want pasta, right? I know just the place."

Leaving the cinema with the night claiming the light, Rebecca's hand hasn't left yours since halfway through the film, nor does she have the intention to. Everything just felt natural, like puzzle pieces falling in the right place. As you lead the way, a darkened cobbled street came into view as both of you turn a corner, Rebecca couldn't shake off the feeling of uneasiness.

"A-are you sure this is the right way?" she stammers.

"Trust me. I am 100% sure," you reassure her.

"B-but what if-"

"Ah, we're here!" you voice made Rebecca jolt.

She peeked out from behind your right shoulder, quizzical by what she's seeing whilst tugging on your sleeve, she asked, "A hole in the wall? That was a bit anticlimactic..." a hint of disappointment seeps through.

"Dear, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover. I thought you taught me that." you tease. Her face pouts but you still find her cute no matter what.

You push the wooden front door which made a stifling groan. Inside, the little restaurant is rustic and oddly homey. Photographs hung on the wall, from monotones transitioning to technicolour, each photograph tells its own story and heartfelt emotions behind it. Your eyes scan each decoration as you move further into the place, bits and pieces collected from around the world and written messages left by visiting customers. The reserved table is located in a less crowded area behind a half wall, just overlooking the rest of the room, an ambience mood under the candlelit atmosphere. Quiet chit-chats and conversions turn to waves of laughter, feeling content in each other's company as dinner went by in a flash. Spending time with Rebecca is every second well spent.

"I hope you still got room for dessert."

"I think you're underestimating my stomach's capacity." she returns the jab.

Flipping between pages, indecisive, Rebecca bites her bottom lip as her finger scans through the list of desserts, unawarely emitting soft 'umm's and 'eh's from her lips, tinted with a glossy shade of chilli red. Trying hard not to laugh at her child-like indecisiveness caused by this inconvenience, to which her brows begun knitting together bit by bit, the corner of your lips can't help but slowly crawled upwards. All the dessert dilemma ended with her favourite, Baked Alaska. The snowy white miniature mountain engulfed in a sea of blue flames, it's a form of entertainment in the shape of a dessert. You and Rebecca filled your stomachs to the brim with food, thus, this concludes the dinner segment you have planned for her.

The touch of the summer breeze caressed your face under the starry night, footsteps in sync with one another as the night winds down with a stroll into empty, midnight street. Silence flows through the air, except for the distant sound of traffic and Rebecca's angelic voice. Shop windows reflect the pair of you, illuminated by neon lights, you wish this moment could last forever. Music could be heard from afar which prompted the curiosity within Rebecca as she ran ahead to listen to the tune more clearly. The playing tune came from a speaker located just outside of the entrance of the theatre. An all-time classic 'Singing in the Rain'. The cheerful melodic song takes the centre stage as the vacant street acts as their audience. Rebecca looks at you with devious gaze in her eyes. You have a bad feeling in your gut as you can almost see the thought that runs in her mind. You shook your head.

"Oh, come on! You promised that I can do anything I want. Please?"

She gave you those pleading puppy eyes, a critical hit to your heart. You battle with your internal self but the latter isn't any good with arguments. You sigh and agreed. Rebecca jumped up in celebration of her little victory and took you by your hand and lead you to the spotlight. Hands behind her back, tapping one foot out to her right; heel, toe, heel and step. Knowing your cue, you followed. With the opposite foot, she repeats the same moves, gliding in the opposite direction and you do the same. One foot at a time, she hops with airy steps with arms flutter at her sides as she glides her footwork in the figure of eight, in time with the beat. Pushing her foot out with pointed toes, her leg lightly sweeps across the concrete floor as she shifts her weight and twirls on the spot. Her matte satin dress spins in the same direction, the seams floats up in a graceful manner as it whirls around like a maypole but it's gravitational pull delays when Rebecca halts to an end with a croisé pose as the song fades.

Mesmerised by the sight of her dance, you stand on the spot and gawk with your jaw hanging wide. Before you can react with applause, she extends out a hand to ask for yours in return. You happily accepted her touch with the heat of your palm. Fingertips tenderly brushed against her shoulder blades and even the slightest touch her skin can make your heart race a thousand beats per minute. With her hand clasped on your waist, she takes the lead. The incandescent bulb echos in her emerald eyes, twinkling like stardusts; each step she takes, you follow along. Moving to the adagio rhythm, Elvis whispering softly about hopelessly falling in love with somebody, swaying side to side in front of the dazzling theatre with half the city fast asleep. You wish the city could watch as both of you dance in the moonlight, but you need no audience, as Rebecca is your whole world. Prompting her right hand, she twirls for you once more, making a long-lasting image imprinted into your memory. Hands delicately raising the edge of her skirt with the pinky finger extended out for emphasise, she dips into a curtsy bowed gracefully towards you and you do so returning the politeness also as graciously as possible.

All seriousness suddenly turns into a bellow of laughter filling up the darkness and drowning out the music. The hilarity persisted until both your stomach muscles ache with a fiery pain and eyes filled to the brink with tears of joy.

"Alright, lemme take you home."

She nodded with a soft smile, strolling together once more, hand in hand. Wasn't long until you looped back to where you've parked your transport. Rebecca eyes the yellow, barely-holding-it-together machinery with uncertainty.

"A...vespa. Can you please make sure I get home in one piece?" she jest.

"Hey! This baby is as safe as a house." you shift just out of earshot and murmur, "Don't listen to her, baby."

"You should get an electric one. You know, to help save the planet."

"Alright, alright...Dr Chambers." she huffs in response.

Tucking strands of hair back into you hat of safety, you popped open the seat, revealing yet another helmet. This one, a cream coloured shell lined with a retro red-blue stripe inspired by 60s aesthetic. You bought this weeks before the date and with the intention that she'll be the only designated passenger. Rebecca picks up the helmet and paused, eyes gazing attentively at it. Internally, you start to panic. Is it too much? Does she hate it? You swallowed hard; your lips quiver as you were about to speak, she cups your cheek as the warmth of her palm spreads before you could register it her lips are pressed onto yours, taking you in by astonishment. Your hands instinctively supported her waist as her body leaned against you on tiptoes, then she pulled away. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but the lingering feeling felt forever. Still living in a daze, she calls out.

"Are you still going to drive me home?"

You snapped out of your daydream and found her already seated on the backside of the Vespa. Gleefully, you skipped your way to the driver's side, almost crashed landed onto the seat, still giggling stupidly to yourself. Sometimes, action speaks louder than words. And that kiss was all you needed. Ignition on, goggles strapped to your face, you yell;

"Hold on tight, babydoll."

The back tire squeals as you take off. Rebecca clutches your midriff for the sake of her life as you race into the twilight full of adrenaline. Engine roaring in the dead of the night amidst the summer wind streamlining around you, streetlights began to form in a strip of fluorescent lines. Her chin rests on your shoulder, squeezing you ever so tighter as the passing signs and billboards reflect off her visor, in shades of pink and purple hue, wondering if she's existing in a virtual dream state. Even though the music had already stopped playing for the both of you, this was once in a lifetime experience that you will remember for eternity.

-----

Bonus:

Love ya ☆

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plasticflowering · 3 years

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Ranking Every ONEUS Song Because I Have Opinions

I guess it’s time for me to embark upon this task. Come along for the ride if you’re so inclined.

This is by no means a definitive ranking, because that’s impossible and the consumption of music is an intrinsically personal experience. But I personally like ranking things for arbitrary reasons.

Each song is ranked in order, and within those rankings I’ve assigned Tiers. Enjoy.

Note: this includes only studio tracks officially released by RBW or KissEnt, which means I’m sadly not including the Road to Kingdom songs. Actually, wait, you wanna know what? The real reason I’m not including Road to Kingdom songs is because I’m still salty that my favorite song from that show is one that didn’t get a studio release. Justice for Warrior’s Descendant.

Let’s begin.

I’ll start things off with the top tier, the best of the best, my absolute favorite ONEUS songs. Now what should I name a tier that represents the pinnacle of what ONEUS can offer us?

Black-Haired Seoho Tier

1. “Valkyrie”

This song goes places. It's the one that made me fall in love with ONEUS and it's still my favorite, oops.

2. “Blue Sky”

"Blue Sky” defies genre to me. The first time I heard it, I was blown away. It has some of my favorite vocals AND two of my favorite raps in their discography - I love Leedo and Ravn's "ballad raps" in general but this is my favorite.

3. “BingBing”

So full of personality. Such an earworm. Emotional and kinda unsetlling lyrics. Xion speaking French? OKAY. It's title track worthy, for sure, so it's a shame it gets so overlooked by casual listeners. I’m glad the fanbase has at least given it the legendary status it deserves.

4. “Lost”

Was not expecting this one to enter my top ten with turbo boosters, but I started to listen to it a lot last year and in the process I started to feel things for this song that I previously have only felt for “Blue Sky”

5. “Plastic Flower”

It me.

6. “Rewind"

It’s all about the synth hook, to me. I am pathetically manipulable where good synth hooks are concerned. Also, the cadence and arrangement of this song reminds me of “Lost” and that’s never a bad thing.

7. “Dizzy”

I just feel like this is where they all shine as a vocal ensemble. Their personalities shine through in Dizzy, and I'm a sucker for that emotive sort of performing.

8. “Incomplete"

Right in a row here, you’ve got two sets of “my favorite song on the album” followed by “what I believe to be the best song on the album”. “Incomplete” is the best song on “DEVIL”. The lyrics are amazing and, this may sound weird, but as a Human in Their Thirties the lyrics hit even harder. Bonus points for guitar, as always.

9. “Dead or Alive”

I’ll never get over how strange and wonderful this song is, and yes I do believe it’s the best song on “LIVED”. (Vee shouts through a megaphone again about how “Dead or Alive” incorporates musical themes or lyrical elements from every other song on “LIVED” and hopes someone listens). Also (vee voice) guitars.

10. “Lit”

“Lit” just rules and I don’t believe there’s much I can add that has not already been said about it

Leedo Face Scrunch Tier

Now for those songs that are still my favorites, and make the world an immensely better place for existing, but don’t quite crack the ultimate ONEUS songs pantheon.

11. “No Diggity”

I'm a simple person, okay? I love bright and poppy songs but I'm also weak for unapologetic bangers, and "No Diggity" is an UNAPOLOGETIC BANGER. I think the guitars are (unsurprisingly) what takes this song to the next level for me. The arrangement in general is so impressive, and it’s obvious that they balanced it well to make use of all the members’ individual strengths. RIP my bias though.

12. “Crazy & Crazy”

The "Crazy & Crazy" appreciator has logged on! When Ravn said "hakuna matata 원하면 이뤄져 bibbidi-bobbidi-BOO", I felt that!!! If I ever get to go to a ONEUS concert and god forbid meet any of you there, I cannot be held responsible for how HAM I will go during this song.

13. “Hide and Seek”

I’m weak for this funky little bass-driven bop.

14. “Red Thread”

I don’t ever feel like I truly have gone in hard for a group until I start proselytizing their ballads to my unsuspecting friends. Ballads have a high barrier of entry in K-Pop especially, but my god!! MY GOD!!! This is a god-tier ballad.

15. “808″

They threw every single synth possible at the wall with “808″ and it absolutely sends me with how well it works. It’s undeniably “a Japanese single,” if you know what I mean, but even with that I think it’s one of their strongest title tracks. The chorus is endlessly singable, too, and that means a lot to me while I’m listening to it while doing the dishes, which I do a lot.

16. “Leftover”

I believe that Seoho and Ravn team songwriting will save our souls, and this song is one more reason to do so. I love that their songs aren’t just straight-up R&B (not that I don’t love R&B), and that there’s something very playful and unique about them.

17. “Zig Zag”

I’ll never forget you, “Zig Zag,” or the way Keonhee absolutely owns your vocals. In fact, if I had to assign an image song to every member I would most likely assign “Zig Zag” to Keonhee. 18. “Lion Heart"

As far as “weird little song” vibes go, “Lion Heart” really wins. Has undoubtedly one of the weirdest moments in any ONEUS song in the first post-chorus, and I’ll never shut up about the implied lore associations.

19. “Hero”

In every ToMoon's life, there is that indelible moment when they first heard Seoho's pre-pre-chorus vocals on "Hero" and suddenly realized so much about life and love and the nature of miracles. And, less dramatically, I love a good rap that uses the word biscuit.

Road to Kingdom Era Xion Tier

I became a Xion bias in Road to Kingdom era, so this is not meant disparagingly. These are those songs that show so much promise and goodness, and make me love them, but are kind of an acquired taste so to speak.

20, “BBUSYEO”

I always love BBUSYEO when it shuffles up, but I never like... seek it out, you know? Even if it is a bop. It’s just a silly little hetero love song that includes toilet humor, and it goes. I love that for it!

21. “Come Back Home”

It's all about the build up here. This song has such a beautiful arrangement that builds to something, dare I say, epic. Good background music for taking a dramatic walk when it’s like, -this- close to raining.

22. “To Be Or Not To Be”

This song works in the context of ONEUS mythology and lore but I tend not to really put it on my playlists if I'm simply wanting to experience an emotion or bust out some fun jams. It is a very strange time signature for a jam, but it’s too up-tempo to really be a mood setter.

23. “Intro: Time"

This intro is like... beautiful, but also kind of slutty, and I love that?

24. “A Song Written Easily”

It's good! It's fun! I really like it, I think it's lovely. But it’s not a song I’m going to rec to a friend and assume it will give them an adequate view of what ONEUS is. If anything I’d expect they’d just be like “that was really fun, but it just makes me want to listen to Blood Sweat & Tears.” “and I’d go “yeah me too.”

25. “Twilight”

I overplayed the fuck out of this song when I was first getting into ONEUS, so forgive me for ranking it low. Also, there is a high barrier of entry here for casual listeners even if it is a classic. Do you ever really think about how weird “Twilight” is? Like, the song structure? It’s very weird. I love it.

26. “Stand By”

I decided to make "Stand By" my charity case after seeing a few people dismiss it as their least favorite off Fly With Us, and I wound up loving it so much. That bridge is crazy good! Vocal line blessing us.

27. “Intro: Fly Me to the Moon”

As far as intros go, this is god tier honestly. But it's still only an intro, and I always feel cheated out of a beautiful full song when I hear this. Like, even for an INTRO it feels short.

My Complicated Feelings About A Thousand Stars Tier

28. “A Thousand Stars”

I just made an entirely separate post about this.

That Overenthusiastic Thicc Ssam Ravn Made for Seoho That One Time Tier

Like, there’s a lot here. I like all the parts individually but something about them just doesn’t go down easily.

29. “Youth”

I’ll be honest, I love “Youth” and I think it’s an absolutely beautiful song with a great hook. I’m just firmly out of the demographic for it at this point and that’s a bit alienating. It’s also weak compared to other songs on “DEVIL”

30. “Intro: Devil is in the Details”

It’s a great intro that does some ambitious things, but on its own it doesn’t hold up as well. Intimidating.

31. “Intro: Lived”

I love Leedo and Ravn, but I don't like how this one opens. That said, I love the way this ends.

32. “White Night”

The fact that I had to rank this so low, when it's such a gorgeous ballad, drives home how many pure bangers ONEUS has. I love this song, but I don't really jam out to it, so it's lower in my ranking.

33. “What you doing?”

Please don’t judge me too harshly for this. I just feel like this song could have been performed by another group and there would have been no appreciable difference. I like Cosmik’s songs, but they’re not, in my opinion. the most ONEUS of the ONEUS songs. Which is weird since Cosmik is a bit synonymous with ONEUS. Anyway Keonhee sounds great in this song.

34. “Now”

Same as above, but this one has the added problem of never really going anywhere. That said, the bridge slaps.

35. “Airplane”

I guess one of the proper tracks on Lived had to rank low, and for me it's definitely Airplane. When I listen to it, I have fun, but it's very... how do I put this nicely? Generic. The stages elevated it, absolutely, and otherwise it might rank even lower sadly.

36. “I.P.U.”

I don’t know how to put this nicely, but the only way I want to listen to this song is if ONEUS is singing it in concert, at which point I can imagine it being very emotional. It’s a special song for special occasions and I’m not going to listen to it to have fun.

37. “Outro: Connect with US”

You’d think I’d love the government-assigned SeoJo song, wouldn’t you? I mean, it’s okay.

38. “Eye Contact”

By the time this song hits the chorus, it always gets me and I love it. But the verses leave something to be desired imo. It is firmly a mid-tier song to me, and I feel like this particular musical formula was much better in “Now.” Also please don’t make eye contact with me I have social anxiety.

ZigZag’s Cursed Live Audio Tier

Unfortunate.

39. “Level Up”

WHY is this song so low??? Every time I hear it start I get so hyped up, but I feel like it never delivers on that hype fully. It feels too mid-tempo and generic for what the mix promises. I don't know. I can't explain it. The bridge doesn't lead up to much and that always feels like a betrayal. And because it has so much potential I’m even more disappointed about that.

40. “Intro: Light Us”

I have absolutely no opinion about this intro

41. “English Girl”

I’m way too queer and old for this song. :/

42. “In My Arms”

I don't feel their personalities at all in this song, which makes it stand out from almost all their other tracks. It just doesn't sound like a ONEUS song, to me.

43. “Kiseki”

A rare song that I skip when shuffling through the ONEUS discography

44. “Koisii”

The other rare song I skip when shuffling through the ONEUS discography, but also I would fight it if given the opportunity.

#v.opinions #this took... a couple of weeks #enjoy i guess #v.text

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shikai-the-storyteller · 4 years

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Been feeling under the weather all day so I finally started SWSH and put a couple hours into it here are some of my initial thoughts:

Chairman Rose: Welcome to the world of Pokemon! Me: Oh you’re definitely the bad guy. I’m definitely gonna have to kick your butt at some point I just know it

Ok first of all I just want to say I frickin love the poses I can do for my trainer card and the SECOND I saw this one I actually shouted “YES” out loud. Everyone, meet ya girl Orion. (I’ve since updated my shirt and tweaked a few things but I forgot to take a picture of that).

I love all the starters, but Soccer Is My Life so Scorbunny won me over (Grookey was a close second though)

I’m weak to bunny fistbumps.....

Hop is a sweetheart and I already know by the end of this game I'm gonna be crying...Hop you're trying so hard to be the best like your bro but I've been playing this game since before you were born, YOU HAVE NO CHANCE....

Hop's mom and my character's moms as soon as Hop and I are gone: FINALLY let's go have ladies night *high-fives*

Leon: *appears with his stupid ad-riddled cape and white booty shorts over white pants look* Me: gosh I can't believe how much smut I've seen of this dude on twitter Me after playing the game for 15 minutes: Oh he’s a handsome idiot, that’s why.

I booked it to the first clothing store I saw to change outfits, why you killing me with expensive fashion stuff SWSH???? Let me be a cheapskate in this game I’m begging you I DON’T WANNA PAY $20 FOR A SHIRT IRL OR IN A VIDEO GAME

It was actually super cool seeing all the gym leaders walk out an get introduced but for a moment I was like “Oh shoot am I gonna fight them all here??? Right now??? I mean I totally could but that sucks that I don’t get to go to different cities / gyms” and then the celebration ended and I was like “Oh ok then” lmao.

Which also begs the question: did all the gym leaders (minus one) just come on out specifically to walk across the stage and show off? Man no wonder Goth Gym Leader dude stayed home, I would’ve too

I forgot fighting gal wasn’t in this game.... :( I’m sorry fighting girl you were really cute but unfortunately the Galar Unicorn was also cute and I need me one of those

The only reason I know this dude’s name is because everyone ships him with Leon. His sly smile is really cool and I instantly liked him because he seems like he’ll be a fun character (also I have a dragon trainer bias) but then he whipped out his Rotom phone and took a selfie and that cracked me right up

Marnie was so much sweeter than I thought she'd be omg???? I'd die for you sweet goth girl

Bede (or as I like to call him, the Pink British Bastard): OHOHO YOU THINK YOU'RE TOUGH ENOUGH TO DEFEAT ME? Me, oneshotting every single one of his Pokemon: yeah dude

Man I can tell I’ve been playing too much BOTW because my first reaction at seeing the wild area was “Wow that’s kinda small”

I did discover the other half of it later though so I’m somewhat mollified. I love the concept of it though! The only downside is if I see 10 of the same Pokemon in a bunch of grass I’m a little less-inclined to explore that section.

I wasn’t too impressed with the Dynamaxing thing when I first saw the ads for it but it seems fine (I still prefer the Mega-Evos though). I encountered one of the “Special” Raids while nyrooming around the Wild Area too so that was fun.

I'm always worried about under-leveling so I wound up dinking around in the wild area WAYYYY too long and over-leveled my starter and every other pokemon I had lmao

Speaking of, here's my current team layout:

I swapped out my Yamper a bit ago because I found a yellow glowy one and I already feel super bad.....Yamper I love you but GOOD STATS....

I genuinely feel HORRIBLE about switching her out for this new dude I'M SORRY COMPETITIVE POKEMON BREEDING IN XY HAS RUINED ME FOR POKEMON I'LL TRY NOT TO DO THIS TOO MUCH

Me seeing a tympole: Juliana!!! :D The same tympole: *zooms towards me at terrifying speeds* Me: JULIANA NO

I keep stopping Scorbunny (King Kazuma) from evolving because I DONT WANT MY BABY TO GO THROUGH HIS GRUMPY TEEN PHASE YET HES SO CUTE

The curry minigame things are so much fun please let me cook more in video games I love it...

I think my biggest complaint so far is I wish soft-resetting was faster. I love all the “we’ll heal your Pokemon!” folks and the wandering Pokemon, that’s cool (and the little details like the Key Item Escape Rope and the reminders on the map of where I’m supposed to be going at the moment) and the instant access to the PC box.

UH OK ONE MORE THING: I JUST RAN INTO AN EEVEE AND UHHHH THAT”S NOT WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SOUND LIKE LITTLE BUDDY, DO YOU NEED TO SEE A VET?

Man that’s a bummer, I actually loved Eevee’s old cry. I’m assuming this was a switch after Let’s Go Eevee / Pikachu.

Wild Budew: *uses Worry Seed on my Yamper The Game: Yamper acquired Insomnia! Me, laughing hollowly: Me too

It’s gotten to the point where my Pokemon are so over-leveled I’m legit worried they’ll stop listening to me THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE...WHY DID I DINK AROUND IN THE WILD AREA FOR SO LONG...I’m actively avoiding trainers / pokemon battles trying to get to this dang gym

Milo: Can’t wait to see you at the stadium! :) Me, with my severely over-leveled team and OP fire-type starter Pokemon: Haha yeah....me too

Me: FINALLY the Gym is in sight! Hop: Actually you need to go somewhere else first! Me, shaking him by his shoulders: HOP YOU DON”T UNDERSTAND, I HAVE SIX MINOR-GODS ON MY TEAM I NEED A BADGE TO CONTROL THEM

“All companies running ads are owned by Mr. Rose” oh yeah he’s definitely a bad guy

Aw the little Grass-gym mission is cute, that’s a kinda fun new addition to the gym battles haha.

WHY are the NPC trainer dudes at the Grass gym so CUTE

Aw Milo is cute

“You can now catch Pokemon up to level 25!” ONLY 25??? You’re killing me SWSH

I like that the badges are all pieces of a puzzle! Neat little detail.

#i talk #I'm playing Pokemon #SWSH talk #ALRIGHT I'm exhausted it's time for bed

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silvana-fangirls · 5 years

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Target [Dabi x ua!Reader] Chapter 9

Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long. This chapter feels like a big leap of faith, and I'm kind of nervous about it.. So, hopefully you'll like it. Also, I don't wanna sound demanding or anything, but I know a lot of you read this fic, and it's kinda underwhelming and dissapointing that most of you don't comment or tell me your thoughts about it, mostly because this fic does make me so selfcouncious and it's much harder for me to write it than any other fic I ever did... So, I'll really appreciate if you let me know what you think. Even if it's just a word or constructive critisism.

Happy reading

PLEASE read notes at the end

[TARGET INDEX/CHAPTERS]

READ IN [AO3]

or below the cut

When Dabi finally got into her room and closed the door behind him, her confused gaze instantly lifted up from the book Twice gifted her. Once her eyes landed on him, they instantly widened as her whole body visibly tensed up.

Dabi tried to keep concealed the smirk that has been threatening to show ever since Shigaraki decided to spare the girl’s life.

It was obvious that this was not the usual time he showed up the past few days, and her terrified reaction was obviously regarding the fact that Dabi wasn’t carrying any food with him. It was the very first time he entered the room for something other than meals ever since he dropped her here, so he could imagine the scenarios that were probably going through her mind right now.

Did she think he was here to kill her? Torture her?

The corners of his mouth twitched imperceptibly at the thought. He almost wanted to laugh out loud.

There was no way this girl was dying.

…At least not until he knows everything.

He started walking towards her, same bored pace as always, making her drop the book on the bed and back up against the wall like a cornered prey once she saw him at the edge of the tiny bed, towering over her.

“W-What is it?” She managed to squeak out.

He didn’t hold back the low chuckle that came out.

“You’re really somethin’, you know?” He said, lowering himself to her level to get a better look at her. He wanted to see every single detail of the reaction she’ll have. “You really had me fooled, I’ll give you that”

Her terrified state calmed down a bit, only for her to look at him in confusion.

“What are you even talking about?” She said, still pressed against the wall to keep her distance.

“I’ll have to say I knew there was something odd, though.” He said while eyeing her. This girl. This girl was the one who stopped two of the worst villains ever. This girl was the one who saved the country. This girl was the one who turned against her own blood. This innocent looking school girl was the one who murdered her parents. “I’ve had some ideas about what it might’ve been, but holy hell... it was nothing compared to the real thing”

She was glaring at him now.

“If you told me what you’re even talking about maybe I could give you some sort of answer” She nearly spat, irritation showing.

“I know what you did, doll face” He said, but she didn’t even react. “I know about your parents” That did the trick.

Her complexion suddenly went white and her eyes almost popped out of her sockets while blinking several times, clearly not giving any credit at what she heard.

She shook slightly, before darting her eyes away from him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” She said, and turned to pick up her book with a shaky hand, that Dabi obviously caught on.

“You might’ve been good at hiding it, but you’re terrible at lying, princess” He pointed out with a smirk on his face. “Plus, everyone knows now”

She was skeptical, he could see it. Maybe she thought this was a test and he didn’t really know exactly what happened.

“Knows what?” She asked, with a fake innocent smile.

He chuckled again.

“Don’t bother” He said. “It’s been all on national TV”

Her facade visibly cracked, and Dabi could almost feel the panic beginning to rise in her.

“That’s not possible” She whispered shakily.

“Oh, it is” He instantly replied, smirk visibly growing. “Footage of your first visit to the police station and all” Her terrified face returned once again.

“Y-You’re lying!” She was quick to accuse “Best Jeanist would never-“

“Best Jeanist is currently unconscious in a hospital fighting for his life” He quickly interrupted. “I remember him being in charge of the case…” He commented. “…He was also apparently the one who decided to keep the truth under the wraps. Your truth”

“Even so” She said stuttering but with a determined gaze. “No one would dare to go against his orders-“

“It was Eraserhead the one who gave the press conference”

She turned quiet at that, almost suddenly understanding and believing him.

Her gaze was lost on her hands, as Dabi waited for her to react with narrowed eyes.

“O-Okay” She said quietly. “Just get on with it, then” She sighed, but he could tell she was afraid.

Dabi blinked in confusion at this, eyes not once leaving her.

“Get on with what?” He asked.

She seemed to huff in annoyance and her gaze left her hands to give him a death glare.

“You know? I’m fucking tired of your little games and pretended aloofness!” She growled. “Now that you and your friends know what happened, you obviously know I won’t join you! You’re obviously here to kill me. So, get on with it!” She hissed through clenched teeth.

He was surprised at her outburst, but not even as near as her words. It was logical, thought. Still, he couldn’t help but let out a loud chuckle.

“I’m not here to kill you, babe” He assured, and shifted in his crouched position. “Shigaraki was about to, though. I guess you owe me one”

She flinched a bit at the nickname, Dabi knew it was her least favorite of them all, but that didn’t stop her from glaring at him even more.

“Torture me, then?” She asked, and he smirked at her.

“I suppose that’ll be fun, but no unless strictly necessary” He said mockingly.

“Then what?!” She said irritated.

“I won’t let you die until you tell me” He replied, all mockery vanishing.

“Tell you what?” She was starting to get nervous, he could tell. It was for the better, though. She’ll probably quickly blurt out everything he wants to know to get this over with.

“Everything”

She blinked several times, her mouth moving trying to find what to say.

“You already know everything!” She said overwhelmed “You said they showed the police station footage. That’s everything. What is left to know?!”

Dabi maintained his composure at her panicked words. She was upset and scared. Probably thinking he was searching for an answer she couldn’t provide and condemning her life because of it.

“I wanna know everything, doll” He calmly said, hand reaching out to softly move the bangs out of her face. She didn’t flinch at his touch; she stopped to about a week ago. Dabi didn’t know exactly when it started: subtle touches here and there. It probably was that day she made a scene about wanting Twice to be the one to bring her the meals and stuff. He remembers that was the first time he didn’t touch her in a menacing way. Since then, he hadn’t stopped. At first she would flinch away (not much, because she didn’t want to anger him and get burned in return) but after a week she mostly stopped. Almost every meal came with a subtle touch that mostly remained around her face and hair area: he’ll brush her hair aside, or lightly tousle a strand of it; he’ll grab her chin to make her look at him or even booping her nose to mock her.

“I wanna know how it all went down” He said once his hands were off of her. “Tell me, how does a girl like you decide to send her parents to the slaughterhouse?”

A flick of hatred crossed her eyes, and he knew it was directed to him. He didn’t care, though. His entire body was itching for answers. It was almost too hard to remain still, his veins pumping so much adrenaline from the expectancy.

Feelings that mirrored his own almost perfectly... He needed to know what drove her to give her parents such destiny. Same destiny he wanted for his own father.

“Did they hurt you?” He asked, noticing she was taking too long to answer.

“They’ve never laid a hand on me” She said, lips quivering almost imperceptibly as she spoke. “Never touched a single hair of my head” Dabi looked at her almost disbelieving and she let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I suppose that’s hard to believe considering how… creative they were when killing their victims”

Creative was not the word. Gruesome, maybe. Unbelievably wicked. Not even Toga’s mind would ever dream most of the things they did, and that’s saying something.

“I’ve only realized about what they were doing a year before they finally got caught” She continued “I still wonder how I didn’t manage to catch on sooner. All the red flags where there. I was homeschooled, wasn’t able to talk to anyone, wasn’t able to leave the apartment. If there was ever an emergency I wasn’t to contact the police, I should just lock myself in my room and hide. They never talked about their crimes even though the News channel was always on. They always came with expensive stuff even if we lived in the worst part of the city. They hated heroes” She listed and sighed. “The more I think about it, the most convinced I am that my father’s quirk was activated on me most of the time. Most of my life” She explained. “They made me believe I was quirkless the entire time. I only found out went I finally realized who they were and what they did” She added. “It was when I asked them why they were so brutal and sadistic when they needn’t to that I decided to take them down” Her eyes finally looked straight at him “You say you hate heroes who are in for the fame, for power, for money. Heroes with selfish and unworthy convictions”

He didn’t answer her, he didn’t need to.

“I understand your point of view. I understand there are selfish and shallow heroes” She said looking straight at him. “Just like I understand there are villains that do what they do out of need. To feed their families and survive, and while they’re not to be excused for their actions, they’re nothing compared to the sadistic, sociopathic villains that do what they do for fun” She said with almost venom in her voice, directed to him, of course. “That’s why I did it”

He was biting down a chuckle. He wanted to laugh, so bad… Because the coincidences were just so ridiculous. The only difference was that she wasn’t trained to be a villain, and her parents didn’t physically abused her, it was only psychological abuse, considering her father probably took advantage of her own mind with his quirk her whole life.

But everything else?

“Same point of view from different perspectives” He said with an almost teasing smirk. “Cute oxymoron” She smiles icily in return.

“With the difference that you want to condemn people that, whether they’re selfish, they’re doing the right thing” She said with the icy smile still present.

“You’re not ready to have that conversation with me just yet, babe” He said and booped her nose, only this time she did move away from his touch almost instantly.

“Are you going to kill me now?” She asked him with clenched teeth.

“Hadn’t we discussed that already?” He said, finally getting up from his crouched position.

“We did” She said. “And you said you wouldn’t let me die until I told you everything, and I already did” She was challenging him again. “So?”

“Do you really want me to kill you?” He said teasingly, but her serious face didn’t falter for a second. In fact, her eyes seemed to be piercing right through his soul now.

“Why would you keep me alive? You know I won’t join you.” She said, eyes not leaving his. “And we agreed before, that if you kill me, it’s still a win for you and a loss for the Pros” Dabi felt the weird need of backing up, even though he didn’t. “Shigaraki told you to, and while I know how much you seem to like to annoy him, this is a bit unnecessary, even for you. So why did you stop him? To satisfy your curiosity?” She asked and he was about to reply but she was quicker. “Well, you already did. So why am I still alive when you know I’m not of use anymore?” She continued pressing on the matter. “Why do you want me alive, Dabi?”

It was the first time she used his name. And it shouldn’t have affected him as much as it did.

He kept his well-rehearsed cool, though. If he gave a reaction, it was probably so imperceptible that she didn’t manage to notice.

He still cursed at himself in his mind. Not only for letting something as trivial as his name coming from her mouth affect him, but because her question had him frozen in place even if he pretended to be fine.

Why did he want her alive? A now useless (if kept alive), ordinary wannabe hero?

‘Not so ordinary, though’ His mind quietly pointed out.

He tried to consider her death in his mind. He knew that, if being rational, he should just go for it. It’ll save the League quite some trouble. They wouldn’t worry about keeping her alive any longer and it also would bring them such satisfaction once the Heroes realize she’s dead. It’ll be a big win. A safe win. Secured win, since they wouldn’t have to worry about potential rescue missions from the heroes any longer.

He should go for it. Shigaraki wouldn’t mind. He wants her dead after all. He’ll probably bicker about it for a while, because Dabi knew that Shigaraki probably wants to be the one to do it, but he’ll get over it and the job will be done anyways. Also, if he killed her right now, Shigaraki wouldn’t have any of the ridiculous suspicions he probably has now. He wouldn’t have anything to hold against him. He wouldn’t bother even more than he does now.

... But he can’t.

And damned be him, he didn’t know why.

Why does he want her alive? A question he didn’t have the answer for, either. He was just as curious as she was.

He knew he was intrigued about her in before, he wanted to know about her, about her past. That should’ve been it. He got his answers. He got what he wanted… and he still couldn’t kill her.

It was just unthinkable.

He didn’t understand what his deal was, but he needed to figure it out and quick.

He needed to get out of this situation first, though.

Her eyes where still on him, unwavering, waiting for an answer… a reasonable one.

He’ll be damned if he let her figure out how affected he actually was.

One of his many gifts was being quick at comebacks and excuses and while he never been in a ‘deer in the headlights’ situation for years like he was now, he managed to pull it off again.

“I just think is fun to have you around” He said with a devilish smirk.

She blinked at his reply, her mood deflating and she almost looked defeated. She obviously didn’t buy his excuse, though.

It didn’t matter. He saw an opening and went for it. With his same bored pace as always, and his ‘pretended aloofness’ as she called it, he excited the room without another word.

He needs to figure his shit out.

“How incompetent can heroes be?” He said while quickly analyzed several shits of paper scattered on his desk. Several pieces of evidence, information and profiles where amongst them. “And they dare to call themselves Professionals” He almost growled out.

Pissed off was not enough to describe how he felt.

Endeavor knew… he just fucking knew.

He should’ve been at the front line that damned day of the failed rescue mission. He should’ve been dealing with those heroes first-hand, and not backing up All-Might’s ass.

If he were to be there that day, looking at the villains in the eye, he wouldn’t have let them escape, let alone with one of the students still with them.

Every single one of those villains would’ve been in jail by now, and both students safe at their homes.

He wouldn’t have failed like All Might did.

Just remembering about it angered him enough to want to burn the whole building down.

He knew it’ll only be a matter of time before they came begging for his help. He figured that it was only pride that kept them from coming to him for so long.

They didn’t have a choice: The Pro Heroes in the case were as helpful as nothing, the police were even worse… And now that Aizawa dropped the bomb about that girl’s they didn’t know if time was on their side or not. The move Aizawa made was risky, but he knew somehow it was necessary.

‘Villains will start to get desperate. They won’t be as careful now that they know the truth’ Aizawa said when he called him, and nearly begged him to take the lead on the case.

He was right.

He picked up one of the pictures one of his team members took just hours after he decided to take the reins of the case.

A blond haired guy could be seen in it, and it was obvious that he was in a panicked rush by the look on his face and his tensed up state. For most, it wouldn’t look like much… if it wasn’t for the big scar right in the middle of his forehead.

It only took a few hours for him to get the first, big lead on the case. He couldn’t help but smirk.

He’ll prove that he’s a much more competent Number One Hero than All Might ever was.

Unlike him, he’ll get the job done.

A.N.:

We have Dabi struggling already... and Enji's taking care of the case now. How long do you think it'll take him to rescue reader? Idk why it felt a little awkward to use 'Enji' so I settled with Endeavor instead. We'll get reader's perspective next

Silvana :)

tag list: @buckybear97 @this-lost-child @aebeessun @ye-rinn@ihatemyselftoinfinityandbeyond @cindxalex @luvley-shadow@taeniix@roadtripsonspaceships @iana-therese@darkagedoctor @liliafangirls @darkfaethedestroyer@celestiallsunshine@meggy126 @starlordsmum @megganclaark@hecatemacbeth7 @dixonsbugaboo

(please let me know if I forgot to add you)

WANT TO JOIN THE TAG LIST? ASK BOX ONLY PLEASE (so I don’t miss anyone)

#silvana writes : target #dabi #dabi x reader #dabi fanfiction #dabi imagine #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #dabi is a todoroki #The League of Villains #reader insert #reader interactive #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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murasaki-murasame · 5 years

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Thoughts on Fruits Basket 2019 Episode 16: “She Said Don’t Step On Them!”

I feel like I’ve been waiting ages for this episode specifically, and let’s just say it surpassed my expectations!

There’s something surreal and thrilling about finally getting an episode that’s like 99% stuff that wasn’t covered in the 2001 anime at all.

I think this might already be an improvement over this arc from the manga, and it was already one of my favourite bits to begin with, so that probably says a lot about how much I liked it.

Anyway, thoughts under the cut. [Potential spoiler warning for the whole manga]

I guess this is what I do every week, but I want to immediately talk about how this compares to the manga and exactly what material it adapts, since this is the first episode thus far where it’s been unclear in advance exactly how they’d go about it. Every episode thus far has more or less covered one- or two-chapter long self-contained story beats [aside from some rearranging early on], but this is the start of a two-episode arc adapting a three-chapter arc of the manga, so I’ve been wondering how they’d do it.

So basically this episode adapted chapter 39 and the first half of chapter 40. Which is a bit of a jump forward from the last episode covering chapters 25 and 26, but honestly I think it works fine to move Uo’s whole backstory arc up this early. Especially since we know that they’re also going to be adapting Hana’s backstory chapter later in this season, even though it happened even later in the manga, it’s clear that they’re trying to shuffle things about a bit so that the first season of the reboot covers all of the major character introduction/backstory arcs from the first half of the series, which I think is a good choice. This way the second season will be all about introducing entirely new characters and developing old ones.

I was wondering if they might attach chapter 50 to the next episode so that it can keep up a two chapters per episode pace, but I probably should have expected they’d just cover one and a half chapters per episode instead. It should work out for the best, but I guess this means that we won’t be seeing Kureno until season 2. I wonder if they’ll also leave Rin’s introduction to that point too. She gets introduced a little bit earlier than Kureno in the manga, but they’re gonna be shuffling things about later in season 1 anyway so she might also just appear near the start of season 2.

Anyway, that aside, this was a really good and faithful adaptation of the first half of this whole backstory arc. And since it covered less than two chapters, it gave them room to really flesh things out and to add a few things here and there, including an entire post-credits scene. Which was a real surprise, since I don’t think there’s been a single post-credits scene in the whole show before this point. But I’m not complaining or anything, since it was incredible. You’d think it would have been way too jarring after how sad of a note the episode ended on, but I think it did a nice job of just sneaking in some last minute comedy. It was also an entirely anime-original scene, which was nice. It’s pretty similar to a few background moments we get with the delinquent girls, but I’m pretty sure it’s technically still a new scene. I have a feeling that they wanted to give themselves an excuse to throw in some character animation that’s a lot more cartoonish and loose than what this series usually has, and I respect that, lol. It fit these characters really well, and it made the scene really stand out.

It’s also worth noting that back in the New Years episode they also added a scene that gave us a glimpse of Uo’s household, and how her father is a recovering alcoholic. Which at least puts a more positive and hopeful spin on this whole episode.

I’ve always really loved this whole arc from the manga, since it’s one of the best examples of the series’ willingness to take the time to really flesh out it’s supporting cast and to build up this interconnected web of relationships, and thankfully the anime’s really doing it justice so far. We still have another episode to go before this whole part’s finished, but I think it’s safe to say that the next episode should be just as good as this one.

The whole deal with Kyoko having been a delinquent in the past, and even Uo having been one too, have sorta just been running jokes up to this point, but this is where the story really makes it clear that on top of being a running joke, it’s also a topic that it’s willing to seriously dive into and explore the implications of. We haven’t gotten to the part where we really get to know about Kyoko’s own delinquent days [that’ll happen WAY later], but we do get a really interesting glimpse at her post-delinquency life in this episode, and most of all this is where we get all the details about Uo’s time in her gang.

The manga was already pretty explicit and heavy about it, especially for the time it was made, but pretty much everything about the animation and music and voice acting really elevated it even higher, and made the reality of it all even more hard-hitting. The specific type of gang Uo was in probably comes across as a bit more ‘dated’ in the modern day than it’s meant to, but I don’t think it’s super jarring or anything.

I have a feeling that most people getting into this series don’t exactly expect it to end up having a whole arc about how young people can fall through the cracks in society and end up involved in criminal activity before they know it, but that’s just what this series is like, lol.

I think one thing that really gives this whole part a distinctly ‘realistic’ tone is the fact that in several different ways it’s all about looking back on dark elements of your past when you’ve been able to grow past them and become a better and more happy person. Uo is literally narrating this story to everyone as a flashback just to highlight how different she is now and how much happier and more well-adjusted she is with Tohru and Hana in her life, and how she’s channeled her rebellious punk energy into being part of her self-confidence and independence, rather than it all being about her being a vulnerable live wire who just wanted to lash out at everything.

And on the other hand, we find out that the thing that really shook Uo as a child and made her think about her own life and whether or not she was truly happy was seeing how Kyoko had moved on from her own delinquency days and forged her own life and her own family. Like she said, she just learned to relax, and to let it all go, and Uo just didn’t really know how to process that at the time.

It just gives it a more mature and introspective sort of feeling, rather than having it be about characters who are still in the midst of it all. We do get the three delinquent girls who are tailing Uo in this episode. Though they’re mostly just funny background characters, which in it’s own way also spells out how the series isn’t trying to, like, glorify and glamorize the image of deliquency.

But I do still like, on the other hand, how Uo still has largely the same punk aesthetic and attitude going on. It’s just channeled in a more positive way, and she does it just because she genuinely enjoys it, and not out of a need to fit in with a gang. It’s just neat that the story still lets her embrace certain aspects of how she used to be, rather than having her completely abandon all of it and just be conventionally ‘normal’ afterward.

Also, before I forget, they also added a small detail of having Uo’s senpai from the gang watching her leaving Tohru’s house, and I think there were one or two other moments elsewhere that emphasized the way that she was keeping an eye on Uo. It’s not like there wasn’t any of that in the manga, but it was a lot more minor and easy to miss, and it was a bit more out of the blue when we found out later in this arc that she went to Kyoko for help.

And even if it wasn’t exactly a new scene, I really like how moody and atmospheric the scenes at the start and end of the episode with Uo in her apartment were. It’s not the sorta tone this series usually has, but it worked really well. The bit at the very end with Uo’s thoughts and the sound of her father’s TV blending together into overwhelming white noise was a really fantastic touch that helped get across how bad Uo was feeling.

With how this episode managed to be even more intense than the manga version was, I can’t wait to see how the next one goes, since it’ll be the big emotional climax of this arc. And now that we’ve seen how well they’re adapting Uo’s backstory, I can’t wait to see how their adaptation of Hana’s backstory chapter later in the season will be.

Also, on top of all the incredibly good and dramatic Uo content, the cute and fluffy present-day scenes were even more cute and fluffy than they were in the manga. It’s kinda funny at this point how much they’re leaning into the Kyo/Tohru ship-tease, lol. I feel like Kyo’s screen-time in this episode was 90% just him blushing and making a >n< face and honestly I am living for it.

I have a feeling that a lot of anime-only people might not even realize that this is actually the first part of a two-episode arc, rather than a self-contained episode like basically all of the ones before it, since it was still so cohesive and satisfying on it’s own. So I wonder how surprised they might be when they find out that the next episode is a direct continuation of this one.

Anyway this was a great episode and I’m even more excited than ever to see the anime get even deeper into ‘new’ material.

#murasaki rambles #fruits basket

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slightly-nerdy-rambles · 5 years

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TTA Oneshot: Creature Feature

This oneshot was spawned from me wondering why, if Beast Boy can become alien animals, he never takes advantage of that fact to morph into sapient alien animals with superpowers of their own. I still don't have an answer for why he never tried going dragon after the team fought Malchior, though. Maybe that form is too big to maneuver through the city?

Fun fact: the episode Betrothed is immediately followed by Crash, which actually gives this story a neat little niche to fit in. You'll see what I mean later in the story.

(This oneshot is crossposted on fanfiction.net, as part of the Moments series)

Creature Feature Beast Boy narrowed his eyes and stared at his hand. He was alone in the common room, sprawled out on the couch with a forgotten comic tossed to the side.

The Titans had recently returned from their first-ever trip to Tamaran, and it had certainly been… an experience. A good experience in the end, mind you, but the whole wedding thing and Starfire being a princess and Blackfire having at some point taken over the planet and then the wedding thing being a trap that they stopped and Starfire kicking her sister’s sorry butt and taking the crown… It had all been kinda overwhelming.

Pretty cool though. Even if Beast Boy still couldn’t figure out how half the furniture on that planet worked. Was that what Star had felt like when she first came to Earth?

Anyway, point was, so much had happened during their little space trip that he had almost forgotten something cool he’d learned about himself. Now that he remembered, though, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head.

A low whoosh signaled the entrance of another Titan, and Beast Boy’s ears pricked. He sat up and looked over the back of the couch to see Starfire floating through the doorway.

A wide grin split his face. “Hey, Star! You got a sec? I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

Starfire perked up at the sound of his voice, and she made her way over. “What is it?”

Beast Boy started bouncing in his seat. “So, you know those giant freaky Tamaranean guard dogs?”

Starfire blinked. “Guard do- You mean the gloorgs?”

“Sure, the gloogs or whatever. Point is, when we were trying to crash your wedding, I was able to morph into one! How cool is that?”

Starfire’s eyes widened a fraction, and she sat down and scooted closer to him. “Fascinating. So, you wish to learn more about Tamaranean wildlife so you may better wield their forms?”

Beast Boy shook his head, still grinning. “Not exactly. See, sentient lifeforms like humans are just really smart animals, right? So if I can turn into Tamaranean animals, then I should be able to turn into a Tamaranean. How cool is that?!”

Now, when he had pictured this conversation in his head, this part had led to a lot of gobsmacked awe and maybe a call for celebration over the sheer potential of his newfound power. Tamaraneans were, after all, a plainly powerful race – and not the only one, either. With a little effort, he could probably morph into a Martian, or an Atlantean, or even a freaking Kryptonian.

He could be ALL the superheroes.

Instead, Starfire’s response was simply to clap once and smile at him. “Oh, that does sound interesting! I would be quite happy to share more of my heritage with you, if that is what you wish.”

Well… That wasn’t quite the expected level of enthusiasm. Beast Boy deflated a little, but he shook it off. She probably just hadn’t considered all the ramifications yet.

“Okay, just sit tight,” he said instead, adjusting his position. “I’m gonna try it.”

Starfire nodded, and Beast Boy squinted and tried to focus. His shapeshifting was more-or-less an instinctive thing, but he needed a firm grasp of the animal in question to do it. He was too used to thinking of Star as just another person with powers, rather than a whole different species.

After a few moments, he pinpointed what he wanted and stretched. That was the only way he could ever think of to describe it, even when he was shrinking his form.

It was a… bizarre sensation. He was used to changing shape completely, his flesh warping around itself in a way that was a lot less unpleasant than it sounded. This time the shift was much more subtle – little more than a vague tingling sensation and a few more noticeable shifts in his face and gut. That was… probably a good sign?

Not sure what else to do, he held up a hand and looked at it again, flexing and curling his fingers. He couldn’t see any difference, but no real surprise there. Still…

“Hey, do I look any different to you?” he asked her. “Taller, maybe? I feel like Tamaraneans are all really tall.”

Starfire looked him over and hummed in thought, then smiled. She zipped over to the kitchen and rummaged around for a few moments before returning with a large metal platter and holding it up to him.

Beast Boy squinted at his reflection. It took him a moment to notice what with all the green already on his face, but then his eyes widened.

The whites of said eyes weren’t so white anymore. Also, his eyebrows had shrunk to little dots.

With a triumphant cackle, he leaped up on the couch. “Dude! It really worked! I’m a Tamaranean now!” He started punching the air.

“Okay, when do I get to start chucking starbolts at bad guys?”

Starfire set the platter down and commented, “I very much doubt that you will be able to do that.”

Beast Boy froze mid-punch. “Huh? Why not?”

Starfire leaned back on her hands. “It takes a significant amount of power to generate enough stellar energy for ranged use. It bears similarities to training the muscles to increase your strength.” She shrugged. “I required several years of training to use starbolts with any consistency.”

Beast Boy frowned. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”

Well, bummer. Still, he wasn’t about to be deterred. Hopping down to the floor, he asked, “So what about flying then? I could still fly around and punch stuff and not have to worry about my arms getting tired!”

Starfire perked up. “Oh, that is much simpler! For that you must focus on the unbridled joy of flight. If you feel flight, and allow that feeling to buoy you, then it will come to you naturally.”

Joy? Piece of cake. Beast Boy squeezed his eyes shut and pictured himself zooming through the air, doing loop-de-loops and punching through walls and all the other cool stuff he’d seen Star do even when she wasn’t hurling glowey green lasers around.

It was going to be awesome.

With that last thought, something clicked in his head and he felt his feet leave the ground. His eyes snapped open to find himself halfway to the ceiling.

“Ha-hah!” he shouted, pumping both fists in the air. “Behold the mighty Space Boy! I am invincible! I am –”

And that was when he smacked his head hard against the ceiling.

“So that’s how I learned that stopping and steering with weird mental flight powers is a lot harder when you haven’t grown up doing it.”

Beast Boy, human again, held an ice pack against the back of his head as he finished his story. From where she was meditating a few feet away, Raven cracked an eye open and turned it on him.

“Did you really hit yourself hard enough to need that?” she asked.

Beast Boy shrugged. “Eh, not really. Tamaraneans are pretty tough.” With a grumble he added, “And now I know why.”

He pulled the ice pack away and frowned at it. “Also, apparently they need to focus on something to make super strength work, too? What is even up with that?”

“Considering Starfire can tear through solid concrete with the muscle mass of a bean pole, I’d imagine a lot.”

Beast Boy’s eyes slid over to her, and a smirk made its way to his mouth. “Buuut, you know what does make sense as something you need focus for?”

Raven opened her other eye and narrowed both at him. “I don’t like where this is going.”

Beast Boy jumped to his feet and started bouncing on his heels. “Seriously! You’re from, like, another dimension, right? And your magic kinda works on its own, so it’s gotta come from whatever species you are instead of being something you have to study for like a wizard. Tell me I’m wrong!”

His companion simply crossed her arms. “I’m half human.”

“Really? Oh, well, the other half then.” He gasped. “Or maybe I could actually be a hybrid! Why did I never think of that before? I could mix together all the best species and become some sort of ultra-beast!”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Hybrids don’t work that way.” Sighing with the air of defeat that said she’d never get her meditation done now, she swung her legs out of the lotus position and stood up.

For his part, Beast Boy shook his head. “Right. One thing at a time.” He returned his full attention to her.

“Sooo, spill the details. What do I need to know about your super-cool interdimensional magic half?”

Raven looked suddenly very uncomfortable, for reasons he couldn’t quite place. Looking back on the conversation later, he’d come to conclude that it probably had something to do with the freaky giant probably-not-the-human-parent “father” he’d once seen in her mindscape (and much later he’d understand that it had everything to do with him). But for now, all he knew was that she was avoiding eye contact and hesitating as if looking for an excuse to change the subject.

Finally, she shook her head and settled on a simple, “Forget it. It’s way too dangerous, and if you couldn’t handle Tamaranean powers then there’s no way you’d be able to handle mine.”

Beast Boy deflated. “Aww, how come? Your powers are a straightforward ‘think a thing, make a shield or whatever,’ right? No special physical training or weird emotion games.”

Raven let out a long-suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “First off, it’s not that simple. But more importantly, let’s put it this way. You remember the incident with the Puppet King, when Starfire and I had to save you with our bodies switched?”

Beast Boy shuddered a little at the memory. “It’s kinda hard to forget.”

“You might not have noticed considering your… condition at the time, but the differences in our training and emotional states meant we both had trouble with each other’s powers. In my case, I had a hard time accessing her powers because of the emotional energy they required.”

Beast Boy snorted and muttered, “Yeah, no wonder,” under his breath. Raven turned a withering glare on him, and after a few moments of squirming he cleared his throat.

“Uh, sorry. Go on.”

The sorceress just kept her warning look on him as she continued. “In her case, she was in a constant struggle to keep from accidentally blowing us up.”

It took him a few seconds for that to fully sink in.

“…Oh.”

“Aww, come on, you gotta have something!”

Hot Spot let out a low sigh over the communicator. “I don’t know what to tell you. I was raised by human parents, my powers and the ones the other hybrid kids have are all different, and I haven’t exactly taken the time to study H’san Natall biology. For all I know, you wouldn’t get any new powers at all.”

Beast Boy groaned dramatically and flopped over on his chair. “Duude, I’m having like no luck with this!” He huffed. “Thanks anyway.”

Hot Spot gave him a flat look. “Yeeeeah, next time you want to learn more about the vicious alien invaders who secretly sired and later kidnapped me, just feel free to hit me up.”

After a moment’s thought, he added, “Have you tried Aqualad yet? You guys are buddies or something, right?”

Beast Boy chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, turns out like half of his powers are some kinda magic that doesn’t come with the species.”

There was a long awkward moment where neither hero knew where to take the conversation. “So, is that everything?” Hot Spot finally asked. “Because if you didn’t need anything else…”

Beast Boy sighed. “Yeah, that was it. Talk to you later.”

The line went out, and he looked morosely over his list of non-human Titans. It wasn’t too short considering there were only five core members and a handful of honoraries, and he’d been so sure he could find something that worked. But Hot Spot had been his last hope. Maybe he should just try morphing into a H’san Natall and see what happened?

He tried that, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on what he knew about Hot Spot. He strained for several seconds, but nothing clicked, nothing stretched, and in the end, he probably just looked like an idiot.

Well, nuts. Either he couldn’t do hybrids after all and Hot Spot wasn’t enough to give him the full species, or whatever had let him morph Tamaranean didn’t apply here.

Technically, he could still ask Robin to hook him up with the Justice League’s alien members. But if he couldn’t even work out how to mimic his own teammates, what was the point?

With nothing else to do now that his little project had failed, Beast Boy found himself heading toward the garage. Cyborg was there, making yet more upgrades to the T-car.

“This is delicate work, don’t touch anything,” he said by rote as he saw his friend enter.

Beast Boy sighed again and plopped down on a workbench. “Yeah, I know.”

Cyborg looked up from his work. “No luck with ‘Space Boy,’ I’m guessing? Because I hate to tell you, but I don’t think robots count as a species.”

“You heard about that?”

“The girls filled me in.” Cyborg switched tools and got back to work.

Beast Boy flopped back on the bench. “You know what’s really nice? Animal instincts. Not having to work out how to fly, or pounce, or use your teeth and claws, because you just know.”

Cyborg raised a brow at him. “You have to train with your animal forms all the time.”

The shapeshifter frowned. “I guess. But they still make more sense than starbolts or magic.”

Cyborg snorted and wiped his hands off with a cloth. “Coulda told you that.” He frowned thoughtfully.

“You know, maybe you’ve been going about this all wrong. That Tamaranean guard thing was impressive. Have you tried anything new other than sapient beings with complex powersets of their own?”

Beast Boy’s ears perked, and he sat up slowly. “I guess I haven’t really thought a lot about it yet. You think I could do more alien animals?”

Without another thought he shifted back into a gloorg. Cyborg yelped and ran around to shield the car with his body, but the now-alien creature just shifted his weight a little and trotted in place, testing out the new form.

Morphing back, he hummed in thought. “Not too different from some of my dinosaurs, but I still don’t know all of its tricks and there’s a whole planet of probably terrifying animals to explore. I gotta talk to Star!”

Cyborg glared at him, still pressed against his baby. “Please don’t experiment like that next to the delicate machinery.”

Beast Boy waved off the comment, barely registering it. “Yeah, sure thing. Ooh! Maybe I can do hybrids, like a liger or something. Would that be any better than a regular tiger? Oh! Or what if I go the opposite way? Maybe I could be an amoeba. It’d be the perfect infiltrator!”

Peeling himself off the car, Cyborg frowned. “Does that even count as an animal?”

“Not according to modern taxonomy, but neither should alien creatures, so who knows!” Beast Boy cackled and started vaulting up the stairs to the tower proper, two steps at a time. “Space Boy, AWAY!”

He couldn’t see the look on his friend’s face as he ran off to find Starfire again, but as much as he wanted it to be awe and maybe a little envy over his mad skills, he knew it was probably something more akin to pure bafflement. That was okay. As far as he was concerned, Beast Boy had a whole world – no, a whole galaxy of options just waiting to be tried. He didn’t know how many of those options he’d end up using on a regular basis, but that was okay too.

Because whatever happened, it was going to be awesome.

#Teen Titans #Beast Boy #Starfire #Raven #Cyborg #writing #fanfiction #Moments series

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raccoon-james · 5 years

Text

Midnight guest

Pairing: Billy Bennet x Reader

Words: 2522

Universe: Deadly Class syfy

Requested: Yes

Summary: The reader has an unexpected guest in the middle of the night.

Warnings: kinda bad writing I guess?

A/N: As you can see, I’ve finally uploaded my work! It’s my first published fic, but I thought it’s good enough to show it to you guys. English is not my native language so I’m sorry for every grammar/language/spelling mistake I had made while writing it. Also, it’d be nice to receive some feedback, some pieces of advice – please leave a comment or sth. It’s very helpful and motivates me to write more.

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Nights at King's Dominion contrasted with the school in the daylight. Relative calm seemed to return to school halls every time when sun comes down. No noises, no running or fighting - no whatever-made-pupils’-daily-rutine. With sun held up, high at the sky, the school was bustling with life, but with the moment of sun disappearing time seemed to slow down immediately.

Sitting in the room with the door closed, you could easily feel cut off from that little world you have lived for some time. It wasn't hard to feel lonely sometimes. All you had to do then was talk to your roommate, or sneak out to meet friends living in another room. If you wanted peace and silence it was enough to not speak to anyone, play music and take care of whatever had to be done - like homework or makeup.

You liked nights here. Somehow you managed to get a small single room, which was a godsent for you, someone who enjoys being on their own, and the lack of unexpected guests was a guarantee of a successful night. It gave you a feeling of control. You could choose when you wanted company or not; if you wanted some time by yourself, you just stayed in your bedroom. That kind of control was enough to make up for many things, that the legacy status had taken from you. People think if you have a high position in the walk of life then it's easier to live. Bullshit. Why is no one speaking about the expectations everyone suddenly has for you? That you have to be the best, never miss a bit in a fight, never hesitate to pull the trigger, to know all poisons at the back of your hand. And what if you simply cannot live up to the expectations? That's when the lynch starts. "She? I can't believe..." "You're so not what I expected" "The shame of our family"... People pick you clean, then go to work on the bones.

It was couple minutes before midnight and the only audible sounds were your breath, pen writing something down on a sheet of paper and the turning of pages of numerous books surrounding you. Tirelessly you've been repeating materials for the “fundamentals of psychopathy” class. It was interesting, specific but exceptionally enjoyable.

The conception of motive that you had focused on this night was far more addictive than you could imagine. For you it was like digging in someone else's brain. Coming to the conclusions about the killer’s personality based on his actions - adding the way of killing, some repeated patterns and you can compile information about their past, present...the top of the top in this field can speculate - based on tiny details found at the crime scene – about the traumas and habits of the criminal.

The cracking of the door interrupted your flow. While studying in a school for assassins, unannounced visits after midnight don't bode well. In any moment then you could find yourself stabbed or with broken arm, your position meant nothing. Everyone could become a target, from children of the heads of state, through mafia bosses, to the average street rats.

With daggers, the fight technique you have been training for several years, you almost never part with, always keeping them within reach. That was the main reason why you grabbed the weapon so quickly.

Ready to defend yourself, you turned towards the door, no longer sitting but standing. Feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, ready to fend off the attacker.

"Y/N, put the dagger down" said Billy closing the door, in the tone of someone who's welcomed by people ready to slit his throat at least three times every day.

"Uh, I don’t know, I like it... Brings out the color of my eyes, dontcha think?" you said relaxing a bit. You fliped the dagger that made a full rotation in the air and than came back to your hand, that fist on the handle again. Pretty easy trick but always impressing Billy - until one day you'd be very unlucky and loose a hand while catching the blade.

"So, what's the matter?" you asked putting down the dagger. You tossed it on opened notebook on your desk. It was obvious that the studying session is over for you, at least for that night.

"You better tell me, huh?" said the teenager seemingly upset, pointing out to a half-packed suitcase on the floor. Shit... You promised yourself to tell him about you leaving right before They come to take you, which would be about 7 am, definitely not midnight! For all intents and purposes you didn't even know who or where was supposed to take you by tomorrow morning. All you knew was that your parents admittedly, may have overplayed your hand a little. You were a kid after all, a student who'd rather stay up late studying killers’ minds than actually becoming one. Still, have you ever had any other options but learning how to live under direct orders of your family?

"I'm leaving...for some time" you mumbled averting your eyes.

"And what? You...you didn't want me to know? Just leave?" he started, and by that moment you realized what was going to happen. It was going to be a bloody long lecture about your incompetence as a very best friend, as a main theme.

You haven't completely got used to the relation between you and green-haired Billy Bennett. Since your connections with other people were built on viable alliances, and because your loyalty twords them was like loyalty of an average whore from the brothel, you haven’t had many friends. All that had to happen was an extremely unlucky incident, a broken nose and slippery wooden stairs, for you to make some changes in your social life. That was how you met Billy.

"Could you once in your life shut the hell up, maybe?" you stopped his speech before he got a chance to get started with it, slowly looking up at him. He shut his lips and tilted his head a little, raising his eyebrows, noticably surprised with your reaction. You sigh heavily, running your fingers through your hair, wondering what you actually wanted to say when you stopped him. Or was that only self-defense because you didn't want to hear him whine about how bad you really are.

"Y/N..."

"No" you cut him off again. Tiredness that studying drew away, now started to slowly overtake you. "I seriously wanted to tell you but..."

"But when I couldn't do shit about it, right?" he snarled looking little piqued.

"It's not always about you" you hummed staring at your white socks "I don't even know what they want me to do. I received a letter saying I have to pack up and be ready to go at 7 am in the morning. Nothing more. No greetings, how are you or a fuckin hello. It doesn't matter if I told you about this crappy trip today or tomorrow morning, you can't do shit about it. I can't disobey direct orders" you managed to keep your tone serious. You glanced at the rat, still standing near the door. It could be harder for him without you at hand but come on! He could handle it before, so why the hell would anything change now?

Before you had the chance to think about anything else, Billy was standing next to you, embracing you all of the sudden. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, gently rubbing your arm. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his. You sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the room warmer somehow, your future within its walls seeming a little less bleak. Still, you were confused after that sudden display of benevolence coming from Billy. Your body was tense, ready to attack. It took you a moment to edge off but when you did it, you returned the hug.

You liked Billy. He was like cat. Not a fluffy kitty, pretty as a picture but homeless, a bit scraggly and scrawny with unbelievably stunning eyes. These cats you want to take with you even if they aren't drawn to you. And honestly you'd never thought, till this moment, that leaving the cat would be so damn hard. Stupid Billy... Why on earth did he hug you? It was clear now why you had avoided profuse goodbyes all your life. It was so much easier to leave not realizing what's left behind you, because without "goodbye" it feels like you'd never really left. You spared yourself the heartbreaking pain and feeling of loneliness, that goes hand in hand with every long-term goodbye.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?" you mumbled into Billy's t-shirt, hoping your voice wouldn't crack and reveal how devastated you started to feel with every passing second. You used to keep a stiff upper lip, but now it's harder, apparently.

He stepped back at the length of an extended arm and grinned as only he could, which warmed your heart.

"Sleep? I guess..." he answered slightly shrugging his shoulders.

You smirked wrinkling the bridge of your nose, waited for a moment just squinting at him and than turned on your heel so you can walk over to a nightstand and reach the alarm clock.

"I'm not sayin' now, right? But what else would I do at this hour, haha..." Billy muttered while staring at you, tracking all your movements when you were setting an alarm for 6;30 am. You mumbled something like "mhm" putting the device where it was before.

Bennett once again was like a torrent, an unbelievable flow of words which wasn't exactly what you needed right now. Soon it would be half past one, your mind has told you that six hours of sleep is definitely not enough for you to be full of energy by tomorrow morning. Billy was concerned with your actions but didn't ask any questions, hoping you'd tell him what was on your mind. What the hell were you trying to do? Well, you wanted to turn off the only light in the room which was the lamp on your desk buried in books and notes. And when you did it, complete darkness surrounded both of you.

Billy was ready to ask question about what the fuck you were doing. He raised his arm, opened his mouth but that instant you grabbed his raised wrist

"Come" you whispered, dragging him to bed.

"Wha...No! Y/N what the fuck?" he squealed, acting like he didn't want to go with you, yet somehow his body didn't fight back and let you sit him on the bed, so his behavior didn't match the words he was saying at all.

"God...I don't want to bang you man!" you rolled your eyes lying down on the mattress "I had already packed my emotional support teddy bear. How do you think I'm gonna fall asleep now, hm?" you were kinda joking, but kinda not - it was true you had packed your stuffed animals but it didn't really have any influence on your ability to sleep well. You just wanted Billy around, even though you haven't thought about it earlier. The boy widened his eyes on you or at least the darker spot on the bed that should be you. Pretty hard to see anything without any source of light.

"You're still sleeping with a teddy bear? What are you? Twelve?" he laughed. Not exactly laughed, more like attempt to laugh. He was cut off with a cold blade of the dagger near his throat, the best way to silence him in your opinion.

"Say a single word about it and you're gonna end up stuffed just like that teddy bear" you hissed not anymore laying on the bed

"Jesus, how many of them do you have here?" whined Bennett moving away the blade. You couldn't help admiring his ability to stay so chilled and cool with your threats. It was really impressive. Something (the dagger) landed on the floor as evidenced by the hollow metallic sound going with the sound of a laying back body.

"But waking up so early...I don't know..." boy was still whining around while taking his shoes off.

"I'll do my best to not wake you" you said calmly waiting for him to lay near you. To be honest you had never ever slept with him. Sure you had laid down together, sometimes even he managed to take a quick nap but you never lowered your guard.

Billy tried to lie down comfortably but it was hard since it was single bed, not exactly what two people need to sleep together. Your back was slightly touching the wall against the bed, sticking to the boys body, hoping it would compensate for the lack of the bedsheets. You were actually lying on one but it was pretty warm already so it wasn't necessary. With your arms around his neck and a leg over his belly you breathed softly into his hair. You know you should have found it adorable but after all you liked your space. Still you couldn't resist it since you haven't got any idea when you would meet him again. You weren't really much of a hugger when it comes to people, but liked teddy bears as a kid and it you stuck with till now.

Time was passing and the feeling of tiredness disappeared, leaving you on standby mode exactly the same that you were on while being on a lookout. Just like someone if was about to burst into your room now and attack both of you. You haven't locked the door, it was haunting you now but you didn't want to move, scared it would wake Billy up. He was probably asleep by then. You could tell by the regular deep breaths and silence.

With your right hand, you reached for the boys head. For a couple of minutes, you were playing with his short green hair tangling them between your fingers until you would get tired again. That relaxing activity, it made it inevitable for unpleasant thoughts to come across your mind no matter if you were or were not prepared for them. Obviously, you weren't.

Was it possible for you to come back to school in one piece? Who would protect Billy from getting in trouble during your absence? Would you have a telephone wherever you were going, to call Billy here every evening or at least once a week?

It was mind-blowing for you since you have never, ever had problems like that! But also you never had a friend like Billy to make your life more complicated than it already is. Master Lin was right when he said that when you have someone who you would die for, sooner or later things were going to get messed up...

The red numbers on the screen of the clock showed five minutes after one a.m. when you finally dozed off.

#deadly class #deadly class syfy #billy #billy bennett #bennett #billy x reader #billy bennett x reader #billy x y/n #billy bennett x y/n #fanfic #fic #fanfiction

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bevioletskies · 6 years

Note

Movieverse Post Avengers 4 Starmora Prompt: Wedding with white dress, veil, vows, rings, the kiss, and the first dance.

mild spoiler warning for avengers: infinity war.ao3 | word count: 2.9k

Peter proposed to Gamora one week to the day after they returned from the “other place”, as everyone was calling it (the Guardians had developed an aversion to the word “soul”, recoiling at what it had cost them). The moment the words left his lips, he instantly regretted it - not about the idea of marrying her, he could never regret the idea of marrying her - but the suddenness of his proposal; it almost felt inappropriate to ask. Everyone was still traumatized, recovering in short-lived bursts, taking one step forward and five steps back. Gamora, unsurprisingly, was experiencing the worst of it, not that she ever let it show. Peter couldn’t imagine she wanted to undergo the stress of a wedding on top of everything else she was dealing with, the weight on her shoulders, the sweat on her brow, the heaviness in her heart. He prepared to take it back, to apologize for, once again, jumping without thought of the consequences.

“Yes,” Gamora said, and that was that.

Now, it was a few months later and the day was here. It wasn’t so much that they had finished planning the wedding that they were finished with planning it. Gamora, for all her usual insistence on precise details and long-term considerations, grew tired of the whole process. She wasn’t inclined toward a splashy affair with flower arrangements the size of her torso and a dress that cost more than the Benatar’s repair bill. Peter just wanted to finally start calling her his wife, and was ready to take the shortest path to get there.

“Will you stop fussing already? You look fine,” Nebula grumbled. Gamora glanced in her reflection, over her shoulder, to see her sister standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. She smiled.

“That might be the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Gamora said lightly, turning to fully face her. “Come on, Nebula. You know how much it means to Peter, to get married in his hometown, the place he still holds dear after all this time because of his mother. It would be disrespectful of me to look anything less than perfect, which I guess is…this.”

“A dress, though.” Nebula pursed her lips distastefully, her eyes slowly moving up and down as she took inventory of Gamora’s unusually feminine appearance. “And a veil? You look like the cake you refused to have.”

Gamora turned back to the mirror with a resigned, but agreeable sigh, tugging slightly on the tight waist for what had to be the hundredth time. “You might have a point. It doesn’t suit me, but it’s also no hardship. Need I remind you of the training corsets we wore as children? The buckles, the cold metal, the leather straps? All so we could learn how to breathe while we fight. That kind of burden, that life, it’s all behind us. No more.”

“No more,” Nebula echoed quietly.

Then, a knock on the doorframe. “Quill is pacing incessantly and won’t stop mumbling to himself,” Drax complained, looking immensely uncomfortable in a pressed white shirt and crooked tie. “For all our sakes, I hope you’re ready.” He paused. “You look ridiculous.”

Gamora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “You flatter me, Drax. And yes…I’m ready.”

Though Peter had gone to church on Sundays with his mother as a child, he’d chosen a different kind of wedding venue entirely. They were in a converted barn on the outskirts of St. Charles, Missouri, the kind romanticized by many but used practically by few, its red paint peeling away on the outside, sunlight streaming in through the cracks of the imperfect rafters. Mantis had wound fairy lights around the support beams and placed tea lights along the makeshift aisle, but aside from that, there were no other decorations to speak of.

Opposite of the entryway, backlit by the partially open barn doors, Gamora’s gaze immediately went to Peter in his off-the-rack tuxedo, chatting quietly with the pastor, a family friend of his grandfather’s (who, to Peter’s dismay, had passed just two years ago). He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his face softening as he took in her appearance for the first time, mouth falling open a little in awe as it was oft to do. Gamora beamed almost shyly in return; after all these years, it was still hard to believe anyone could be so openly fond of her.

The other Guardians (aside from Nebula, who followed her in) were stood by Peter, surprisingly quiet and devoid of snark. There was a small bar-height table by Kraglin at the end of the line with three items arranged carefully on its surface - the yaka arrow, the Zune, and the Awesome Mix Vol. 1 cassette tape, the only thing that remained of Meredith’s Walkman.

Gamora walked carefully down the marked path, unused to the amount of fabric shifting around her ankles. Peter held out his hand for her to take the moment she was within reach, guiding her to a stop right in front of him. She instantly noticed an uncharacteristically nervous tremble in his fingers and his bottom lip. “Guess we should keep this short and sweet,” he chuckled. “Gotta head out in the morning for that job on the other side of the galaxy.”

“You sure do live interesting lives, Mister Quill,” the pastor commented with a laugh on his own. “Shall we start with your vows?”

“Yeah, I, um…yeah.” Peter let go of Gamora to pat the breast pocket of his suit jacket, only to shake his head. “Actually, I’ve read ‘em over enough times, I think I’m just gonna say what I feel.” He grinned his signature lopsided grin, and Gamora was half-charmed, half-worried that he’d indulged in a little drink for the nerves before getting dressed. “Growing up, I never really thought a ton about what I wanted to be when I was older. I mean, I had the usual kid dreams - rockstar, astronaut, pirate - but I was always just a go-with-the-flow kinda guy. Same thing when I was a Ravager, I just went along with what everyone else was doing. But once I left them behind, I really wasn’t sure what my next move was gonna be. If I was gonna float on by myself for the rest of my life like I always did. But part of me didn’t like that. I like being around people, and I missed having someone to talk to. My mom…Yondu. And it’s like someone heard my thoughts, ‘cos the day I left that life behind, you came along.”

“We had a pretty rough start, you and me. Tried to kill each other, landed in prison, the usual,” Peter continued, smirking at the memory. The pastor looked mildly alarmed. “But once we sorted out our differences, you became so incredibly important to me. You’re my best friend, my co-captain…my girl. The person I can talk to about anything, no matter what. The one who helped me figure out what I was gonna do with my life, who I wanted to spend it with. But you also don’t take any of my crap, and you shouldn’t,” he added with a watery laugh. “I say and do some pretty stupid stuff sometimes. You keep my feet on the ground, sometimes literally.”

“Anyways…we’ve been through a lot together. But I’m not too worried about the future. I know that whatever life throws my way, I got someone I can always count on, someone who can always count on me. And maybe to kid-me, the kid that didn’t care about, y’know, the future, or anything, really, it sounds pretty boring, but to adult-me? Sounds like I’ve got the best deal - and the best partner - in the entire universe.”

Gamora had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying, her eyes welling up with emotion. Peter’s eyes were shining with unshed tears as well, nodding for her to begin. “Growing up in the circumstances that I did, with the company that I kept - with one exception - ” her eyes briefly went to Nebula “ - it shouldn’t be surprising that love and acceptance were, in my mind, unattainable. Abstract concepts, for children and for fantasy. Shallow…saccharine. Meant only for people who thought themselves romantics, people who had time to really get to know one another. I was none of those things.”

“Like you, I was trying to escape my life. Unlike you, I thought I knew what was going to happen after. That I was going to survive, but not really live. Maybe die months, weeks, days after running away,” Gamora added with a sad smile. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think much of you when we first met. You were just another adversary to me. It wasn’t until Knowhere that I truly began to understand you…to know you…eventually come to love you. I can’t pinpoint a moment, a memory, in which I knew I did. But with all the cliches in the world, the ones I rejected and wrote off as fiction…I began to understand every single one of them.”

“I’ve been jealous of people who look at you the wrong way, or people who look at you for too long. I’ve fought for you, for us. I’ve done things that surprised me, said things I would have never told anyone else. I’ve let you into my life so we can share it together…a life where it’s about more than just surviving. I see the universe with new eyes, a renewed hope for the future, our future, and I don’t think it would be the same without you.”

By now, Mantis and Kraglin were clinging to each other, watery-eyed, while Drax, Rocket, and Groot were more stoic, but still noticeably moved. Nebula’s expression had been indecipherable ever since Gamora indirectly mentioned her, but she’d never been an easy read in the first place.

“If we have no objections - ” the pastor briefly glanced at the others, who all vehemently shook their heads “ - we’ll move on to the exchanging of the rings.”

Groot crouched briefly to open the small satchel at his feet, digging through its contents. Once he found what he was looking for, his branches snaked out, coming to a stop in front of Peter and Gamora - two small velvet boxes, ready for them to take. Gamora’s hands were comparatively steadier than Peter’s, sliding his ring on first. When she noticed the continual tremble in his arm, she held his wrist in a gentle, but firm grip, guiding him as he put her ring on her finger. He smiled in silent gratitude.

The two of them took a moment to admire their rings side-by-side, rings that had somehow become the most arduous part of the entire planning process. Peter’s ring was far simpler than hers, silver in color and square in shape with a thin groove all the way around, set with two red diamonds between perpendicular ridges that reminded him of his mask. Gamora’s ring was silver as well but less traditional in appearance, a thin sword wrapped around her finger with a matching red diamond embedded in its hilt.

“If you’re ready,” the pastor said softly. They turned back to look at him, eyes wide with anticipation. “By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife!”

A tinny-sounding version of the wedding march began to play through the Zune-attached speakers, and the Guardians exploded with whoops and cheers of unbridled joy. Peter swept Gamora into his arms, kissing her with everything he had. She wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling his front flush against hers, deepening the kiss, then pulled away before the pastor could protest indecency. Still, Peter brought her back in to kiss the crown of her head, holding her close as they turned on their heels to face the others, matched unabashed grins on their faces.

“So…dunno about you guys, but I’m super hungry,” Peter announced. Gamora was unsurprised to find that being married to Peter did not, in any way, lessen her urge to roll her eyes at him. If anything, she could see it happening with far more frequency in the future…their future.

Dinner was short and sweet, just like the ceremony. Peter ordered takeout from his favorite local diner, a place he was delighted to discover was still around. Though the others were mostly unfamiliar with Terran food, it was a welcome palate compared to their usual of ration packets and whatever was cheap at the latest bar Rocket insisted on visiting between jobs.

After dinner was over, Gamora knew there was one last wedding tradition that Peter would never want to miss. He didn’t care for toasts that rambled on for far too long, or tossing the bouquet (not that Gamora had one to begin with), or silly games that made everyone vaguely uncomfortable with how intimate they could be. No, this was a tradition that was obvious to anyone who knew Peter.

“Ready for our first dance as husband and wife?” He held out his hand, thankfully far steadier than it had been an hour ago.

“I guess the others will have to wait.” She placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

They walked out to the middle of the barn, the moonlight peeking through the rafters, casting a soft glow on both their faces. Peter nodded at Rocket to start the music. He grinned at Gamora’s mildly surprised expression once the song began. “Song choice okay with you?”

“More than okay,” she laughed, allowing him to lead her in slow, deliberate circles, their faces so close that their noses were nearly touching. With his hands at the small of her back and hers on his waist, they were sturdier, surer of themselves, than they had been all night. “It’s been a while since we’ve listened to this one. Five years, in fact.”

“Figured it couldn’t be anything else,” Peter shrugged. “So…you feel any different? Now that we’re married?”

“Not really,” Gamora admitted. “I always thought it was more symbolic than anything else.”

“Can’t forget those tax benefits,” Peter joked. “And that insurance package you had your eye on ever since the hospital incident on Parthea?”

“If you had just told them we were family - ”

“ - I was so hopped up on meds, I was tryna make out with you in the waiting room, I don’t think they’d buy you were my adoptive sister - ”

“ - you always try to make out with me regardless, Peter, but my point is - ”

“ - hey, we’re starting to sound like an old married couple. I guess we always have, but now we’re halfway there,” he grinned. Gamora huffed, giving him her second most impressive eyeroll of the night. “Just gotta grow old together first.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that, the tension leaving her shoulders. “You’re right. Now we can look forward. And I don’t mean tomorrow’s mission, but…whatever the rest of our lives will be. We got a second chance at life. Let’s not waste it.”

“Did you have something in mind?” he asked.

“Actually…no.” Even Gamora looked surprised at her own answer. “All my life, I’ve either been running or hiding. It took me years to finally break free from his control, only for him to take me back again, use me again. And now, aside from whatever enemies we’ve made along the way…I have no reason to look over my shoulder. To check every corner I turn.” She smiled, her eyes glossy. “I’m not saying we’re never going to struggle again. We still have to live from payment to payment, risk our lives on even the simplest of missions, mostly because Rocket can’t resist a good fight. But for the first time…I’m not worried. I know we can figure it out together. Whatever ‘it’ may be.”

Peter pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms fully around her waist, his nose grazing her hair. “I know what you mean. Well, sorta. After losing Mom, I…I didn’t know if I was ever gonna have a family again. Or if I was just gonna be uncertain about everything for the rest of my life. But having the Guardians, having you…I lost Yondu, and I still think about him all the time. Wondering what it’d be like if he were here with us. But you’re my family. And I’m not worried, either. Just…really lookin’ forward to what’s next.”

Gamora glanced briefly over Peter’s shoulder, her fingers still burrowed beneath his jacket, around his waist, comforted by his familiar stance, his warmth. Rocket and Groot were squabbling over the last piece of apple pie, Mantis was cooing and taking photos of Peter and Gamora’s first dance while Drax watched on with a mildly disgruntled expression, and Kraglin was eyeing Nebula apprehensively, unsure of how much small talk - if any was even possible - was going to result in a knife to his throat.

She turned back to look up at Peter. “I love you,” she said simply.

He smiled. “I love you, too,” he said, and that was that.

Free, on my own is the way I used to be…but since I met you baby, love’s got a hold on me…

Fooled around and fell in love...I fooled around and fell in love, oh yes I did...

a/n: Peter’s tuxedo, Gamora’s dress (but with a floor-length hem), Peter’s ring, Gamora’s ring (but with a red diamond), and I’m sure you’re familiar with their first dance song!

#ask #Anonymous #starmora #starmora fic #myfic #marvel #hope you enjoyed this one lovely!!#i'm really glad i'm already done next week's prompt because i've got a lot going on this month #hopefully i'll be a teensy bit less busy in oct so i can really dig into the new au

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 3 years

Text

La Pomme ~ Chapter 17

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 7,000

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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George had practically run all the way to Jack's door, but when she got there she hesitated. Back at the bunker they'd bonded a little, she thought; now, in the harsh light of the outside world and his near fatal injuries, she was less confident. Worried that she didn't belong there, she looked forlornly back at Dean as he caught up.

"What?" He wondered what the hold up was.

"Um," George wrung her hands and suggested, "...maybe we should wait for Sam?"

Dean read her nervousness and placed a hand on her upper back, pushing her gently, "Just go in. He asked to see you."

George let out a nervous groan and then pushed the door open lest she be shoved against it by Dean's strong hand.

Inside, she found Jack lying propped up in a small, twin sized bed, stitched and bandaged, listening politely to Lorna telling him how to cook the perfect egg. He appeared very alert and George was thankful he had his color. The image of his dead body from her dream flashed in her mind's eye quickly.

When the two of them came in, Jack's eyes lit up, interrupting Lorna excitedly, "George!"

She couldn't move her legs, as she fought hard to swallow the boulder-sized lump in her throat. As Jack started to sit up, Dean moved to the bed and adjusted his pillows to help prop him up.

Lorna took a hint and said, "Alright, well I took my lunch break to come home and check on the little miracle patient. Good news: still a miracle. And since he's doing so well, I should get back. There's plenty of food in the kitchen, feel free to help yourselves. I'm working a double." Both George and Dean thanked her profusely as she left, then turned back to Jack.

"You're OK!" Jack stated happily, addressing George.

She furrowed a brow at him and finally forced herself to walk over to the side Dean wasn't on, "Of course, I'm fine. How are yo-oh!" When she got close enough to him, he reached out and pulled her down into a tight hug. She felt awkward at first, again not used to hugging a lot of people. When she could feel how much the hug meant to him though, she relaxed into it, shifting to sit on the edge of his make-shift hospital bed. The built up tears spilled down her cheeks and she squeezed him comfortingly.

When he finally pulled back, she smiled, wiping her tears quickly with a blush, and asked, "How are you feeling? What was that about being a miracle patient?"

"According to Lorna, Jack's healing 'miraculously fast.' She seemed pretty surprised when she checked him over this morning," Dean explained with some uncertainty.

"Oh? What's-"

"We don't know," Dean answered with a shrug. "Best theory is maybe his grace is starting to grow back so he's healing himself, slowly?"

The three of them shared a confused expression, unsure what to think.

"Well… Good! As long as you're feeling better, that's all I care about."

"Yes, definitely better," He assured. Then added, "Happy to still be alive. A little surprised not to be dead, honestly." George frowned at him; he was so damn blunt sometimes. "Where's Sam?"

"He wasn't as quick to put his clothes on," Dean cracked.

"What?" Jack didn't understand.

"He means, he had to change," George corrected Dean, giving him a dagger stare, explaining further, "out of his PJs. He'll be here in a minute."

"Were you sleeping? You didn't have to wake them up for me," Jack scolded Dean lightly.

"Trust me, they were not sleeping," Dean laughed. George reached across Jack to punch him but the angle caused a white hot stabbing pain to radiate throughout her left side.

Her breath caught in her throat and she carefully shifted back to a comfortable position, muttering, "Ow, ow, ow."

"Are you OK?!" Dean and Jack asked simultaneously.

She placed a hand on her left hip and nodded, trying to catch her breath, "Yes, I'm fine. Just sore and my pain meds have evidently worn off."

"Oh, Lorna left you more…" Dean began, looking around the room for something. "There," he pointed to her side of the bed. On the nightstand she saw a small glass of water next to a cupcake wrapper with two large pills inside.

"Oh, that woman is a godsend!" She muttered, grabbing the items and downing the meds.

"I'll say!" The three of them turned their heads to find Sam in the doorway, holding another plate full of scones. He was now dressed in dark jeans and an olive green and black checkered button down. Taking another bite of the pastry in his hand, he mumbled excitedly, "Have you tried these?!"

When George laughed and nodded, Sam offered the plate to Dean. He quickly turned it down with a shake of his head, looking a little green. George smirked, assuming he'd had his fill. Sam placed the plate down on a side table and then came over to them. Shoving his brother out of the way, he leaned down and gave Jack a bear hug.

"Sam," Jack said happily, hugging him tight. When they separated Jack looked around with a smile, Sam squeezing his shoulders lovingly, "I'm so grateful to see you all." He looked between Dean and Sam, "How did you find me?"

Sam and Dean turned toward George pointedly and she blushed bright red.

With a nervous chuckle, she shrunk herself down a bit, admitting, "Uh, oh, well I--I… uh, I guess I helped with that a little." The brother's gave her matching perturbed expressions and she smiled weakly, "A lot?"

"What's going on?" Jack asked, reading the situation fairly accurately. "Am I missing something?"

They continued to wait for her to respond and she huffed a bit, "It's just--it's kind of a long, complicated story. And also, maybe we should start with Jack. How did you even get here?"

The diversion worked as the boys instantly looked at Jack and he began to explain, "Tilly brought me here. It's kind of weird. The night I left, Tim came to talk to me. He told me Sam was back from his hunt and wanted to see me in the garage. When I got there, I walked in on Tilly killing a demon with an angel blade."

"Where'd she get an angel blade?" Sam wondered.

"She told me you gave it to her and asked her to come get me because you said you thought I was in danger. Told me the demon she'd killed was proof that Sam was right and that I should go with her. I guess I was just surprised by the demon and I believed her," He frowned apologetically. Dean's expression didn't change but Sam and George gave him sympathetic half-smiles. "Anyway, we got halfway through Utah before she finally admitted she wasn't working with Sam after all and that she was taking me to the angels. She seemed… kinda guilty about it."

"Why was she taking you to the angels?" Dean was furious.

"They got to her. Told her about heaven struggling without more angels and convinced her that I was the answer. They gave her the angel blade and told her to get me to Oregon at any cost."

"And she just… did as she was told by stranger angels?" George asked in confusion. "Why?"

Jack began to explain, "Tilly--"

"Was very devoted to her faith," Sam cut him off with a frustrated huff. "I remember. The angels must have sensed she was vulnerable."

"Wait, is Tilly the bible study lady?" George asked. Jack and Sam nodded in confirmation.

"Bible study lady?" Dean was confused.

Sam explained, "Tilly organized a bible study at the bunker amongst the refugees pretty quickly after we got back."

"Yeah! She found my room and knocked on the door one night, nearly scared the shit out of me. No one knew where I was staying and that room is purposefully hard to find."

"What did she want?" Dean asked.

"To invite me to bible study. I politely declined and she left," George shrugged. "Crazy how she found me though. I mean she must have followed me," She casually glanced at Sam and Dean, both of whom had thoughtful frowns, and joked, "Or she was casin' the joint--ooohhhh!" She nodded slowly as it dawned on her that Tilly must have found her room while exploring the bunker in secret, "She was casing the joint!"

Dean gave Sam an annoyed look, silently scolding him for letting the nutcase run amuk and Sam shrugged defensively, "I didn't know that's what she was doing!"

"Bible study?" He sneered.

"I wasn't about to tell anyone that had just traveled from an apocalyptic alternate universe that they couldn't practice their faith, Dean! I just thought she was trying to bring people some comfort. I didn't think she was hurting anyone!"

"Fuckin' zealots," Dean grumbled. Sam looked guilty.

"Where's Tilly now? Do the angels have her?" George asked, unaware of her fate.

"We found her body off the trail," Sam began, looking at Jack curiously. He added as an afterthought, "We actually need to go back and take care of it."

"The angel who came over to us back in the woods: Poyel. He killed her," Jack explained. "Tilly brought me to him and Duma just inside the trails. They were leading us to the other group; out of nowhere he thanked Tilly for 'serving her purpose' and then..." He trailed off and frowned deeply. "It happened so fast. T--There was nothing I could do," He admitted sadly.

"Jack," George placed her hand over his and squeezed.

"Don't feel too bad for her, she kidnapped you," Dean stated matter-of-factly. Jack's frown depended.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"I think what Dean means to say is," George began pointedly, "what Tilly did, taking you to them, it was wrong. Of course she didn't deserve to die, but it's certainly not your fault that she died doing something wrong."

"She believed it was right," Jack argued sadly.

"Even so. The wrong thing done for the right reason is still the wrong thing," George said very wisely.

"Huh. Did you just come up with that?" Sam wondered curiously. Dean seemed equally impressed.

She blushed and admitted, "Nah. It's from Charmed. Phoebe uses her magic to kill a guy and when Piper and Prue try to break her out of jail to save her from execution, she's like 'no I did the crime, I have to do the time! We're supposed to protect the innocent, not punish the guilty'..." Looking back and forth between the brothers' matching bemused expressions she added proudly, "Reality Bites. Easily in the top five greatest Charmed episodes. I highly recommend a watch."

Dean stared at her blankly for a few moments before stating, "OK, seriously. You watch too much TV."

"That's rich coming from Doctor Sexy, MD's biggest fan. Give me a break!" She stuck her tongue out at him and he held his hands up in mock defeat. "Life wasn't exactly a fairytale and TV was an escape. Hey, and now it literally is!" She said with a cheeky smile to Sam. Then she gasped, "Oh my God, can you imagine if I'd ended up in the Charmed reality, instead of this one? What if I got powers? How cool would that be?!"

"I mean… We have witchcraft here that I can teach you, so..." Sam muttered quietly. After a pause and a frown, he huffed a little, "And, you didn't get any special abilities when you came here, so I don't really think it makes sense to assume that you'd have gotten powers if you'd gone there." George gave him an amused look, reading his mild irritation for the jealousy it was.

Jack seemed confused, "I feel like I missed something."

"You've missed quite a bit," Dean said bluntly.

"Not that much!" George downplayed.

"Why don't you tell Jack how you knew how to find him, then?" Dean challenge.

"Oh, right," George grimaced, realizing she'd forgotten to use her distraction to come up with a good explanation. With a nervous frown, she squeezed Jack's hand quickly before letting go and clasping her hands together, "OK, so here's the thing: I wasn't entirely honest with you when we first met. I'm not from the apocalypse world."

"I knew it!" Jack exclaimed. He knew he hadn't recognized her from the camp.

"Congrats, you called it," she gave him an amused smirk and then cleared her throat nervously, "I'm not from the camps, but I am from an alternate reality--a different alternate reality." Pausing to wipe the sweat that had formed on her brow, she took a deep breath. "In that reality, all of this--you, the brothers, your lives, monsters, heaven, hell, angels, demons--none of it is real. It's all just a show. On television. That I watch… watched? Am watching? Whatever. Anyway, because of the show, I knew who you all were before I came here. And also, even more strangely because why not, I'm kind of from the future. I seem to have come back to an older season of the show, one that already aired in my reality. So, like, I knew you were all going to make it back safely from apocalypse world, I knew you were going to lose your powers, I knew Dean was going to get possessed by Michael…" She looked at Dean apologetically; she was really trying to be sensitive to the fact that these were real people's lives she was now referring to. "And then when you turned up kidnapped, something about it seemed very familiar and I realized that in my reality there must be an episode of the show where you get kidnapped and taken to that Trees of Enigma place. And since you guys had just come back from apocalypse world and I knew your powers were gone, the timeline seemed to fit perfectly. So, I politely suggested that the guys tr-"

"You demanded that we go to Oregon," Dean corrected, but then added fairly, "And you were right." George gave him a small smile of appreciation and then looked back at Jack. The look on his face was indiscernible; she really hoped he wasn't angry that she lied to him.

"So, you knew us before we met you?" He asked curiously.

George nodded a bit, "Yes--well, sort of--I'd never met any of…" She trailed off, suddenly glancing at Sam and realizing that might not be true, "Er, uh, I mean, I knew of you. In my reality you're all characters, so I knew you about as much as you can 'know' Darth Vader." Jack looked thoughtful, like he was processing.

"And you knew where to find me because you saw it on TV?" Jack asked, blinking at them a few times, then looking between Sam and Dean.

"Er--essentially," George thought about clarifying for accuracy, since she hasn't actually seen the episode, but figured it wasn't important.

Sam gave him an apologetic grimace, offering some assistance, "It's true, Jack. George knows things she couldn't possibly know any other way. And actually Dean and I have been to that reality, once. A long time ago. The supernatural wasn't real, we weren't really brothers; we were just actors on a TV show, pretend-killing monsters with rubber weapons. It was… interesting."

At the same time, Dean spoke over him, "Weird as hell." George rolled her eyes a bit at his unwavering disdain for his alt reality fame.

"Jack, I know this may not hold that much weight right now, but I'm very sorry that I lied to you. I feel awful, I just didn-"

"It's OK, George. I understand. You lied because the truth seemed… unbelievable. I think it's safe to say we've all been there," He shrugged a bit with a smile, Dean and Sam giving expressions of clear agreement, and she looked relieved.

"I promise this is the only thing I ever lied to you about," She said, trying to assuage her guilt further.

Jack thought for a moment and then asked, "So, then you were telling the truth when you said you were single?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise and Sam frowned in confusion, looking at her curiously. George blushed. She had forgotten about the strange personal question he'd asked her out of the blue a few weeks ago during one of their video game sessions. It had come so nonchalantly, and she'd been so focused on the game, that she'd answered without thinking: "Since Tess Thompson hasn't returned my calls, I guess I'd have to say yes." His response was a distracted "Who's that?" but something in their game caught all their focus right after, so they continued on playing without another thought.

George blushed and stuttered, "Uh, ye--yes, I--I am! Why did you ask me that by the way?"

"Well, when Sam asked me if I knew, I didn't," Jack explained matter of factly, with a shrug. "So, I asked in case he asked me again and I could tell him." George instantly looked back at Sam in surprise and then looked away quickly, trying to hide her grin. She could feel the tips of her ears burning. She would have felt flattered but she was too busy being worried that Jack might have told Sam all the embarrassing things she'd asked Jack about him.

"Beautiful," Dean remarked, his own wide spreading grin appearing as he watched Sam fidget in embarrassment.

Before Sam could explain at all, Jack asked, "So, how much did you know about us before meeting us?"

Glancing at Sam again and grinning at his charming humiliation, she replied, "Uh, actually not that much. Remember I told you I liked that show, 'Friends'?"

"The funny one you said was about 'a guy who sleeps with another woman and then spends 7 seasons arguing it's no big deal'?" Jack asked, sounding like he was reciting her words back to her.

"Weren't they on a break?" Dean asked casually.

George's neck snapped toward him and she practically hissed, "Maybe but he slept with someone else. He doesn't get to be indignant when Rachel doesn't want him back after that!"

"I really wouldn't argue with her about it. Trust me," Jack warned, causing George to give him a teasingly dirty look.

"Anyway. So, obviously, you know I'm obsessed with that show; watched every episode countless times, know all the trivia, yadda yadda," George explained. Then continued, "I was objectively less obsessed with the show you're all from. Called Supernatural, by the way. I've seen most of it, 'cept the last two seasons, only once through and some reruns here and there--but that's about it. And your 'character' was fairly new to the show, so I've only seen one season with you. I know more about these two doofuses," She smirked, angling a thumb in the direction of Sam and Dean.

"Like what?" Jack asked, suddenly very curious.

Dean huffed a bit and interjected, "Wait, you're fine with all this? George's revelation. Just like that?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, "Stranger things have happened. Besides, it'd be cool to learn about your lives before me."

Dean and Sam looked a bit indignant and Dean defended, "What do you mean? We're open books, you can ask us anything!"

"Uh, Dean," George began with a smirk, "You're happy to tell about your successes--by the way have you ever killed Hitler?" He gave her a perturbed look and she continued with a chuckle, "But I find it hard to believe you're going to tell Jack about the time you pulled down your pants and shouted 'pudding' at a stranger?" George spoke slowly and enunciated each word for maximum impact. Dean's face fell instantly. Sam's, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree at the memory, looking at Dean with a stupid, little brother grin on his face. She added, "Or about the time you got your ass kicked by fairies? Or when you became a dog in human form and bark-shouted at the postal worker? Oh, oh! OR the time you screamed bloody murder because you were scared of a widdle kitty cat?"

"Ah ha ha! I remember that! The Buruburu," Sam nodded, laughing along with George. Dean was glaring daggers at them. Sam looked at Jack and added gleefully, "It wasn't just cats--he was terrified of everything!"

"Like, literally, everything!" George buttressed with wide eyes, joyful eyes. "So funny." Then she looked at Jack and grinned, "Oh, hey! Have you ever been so annoyed by Dean that you maybe wondered what it might look like to see a piano fall on him? Well, there's an episode for that!" She and Jack laughed together and Dean looked confused. Sam gulped, sobering up suddenly.

"What? When did a piano fall on my head?"

George began to explain, "The myste-"

"Mystery spot," Sam interjected hoarsely. George looked at him, startled by the seriousness of his tone. Catching his eye, she gave him a questioning look. Quickly, he gave her a smile that didn't meet his eyes, waving her off gently.

"Oh, was that when Sam dreamt that I kept dying over and over again?"

"It wasn't a dream," George clarified quickly. "It was the trickster--or Gabriel? I'm still a little fuzzy on that whole situation honestly. But whomever it was, he had Sam in some kind of weird reality warp or time loop or his own virtual rat maze--whatever. I don't know exactly how it worked, but the experience was real. For Sam at least." She paused, smiling proudly at Dean's 'idgaf' face and continuing, "not real for you because you're obviously still alive," George finished. Then added as a quiet aside, "and a pain in my ass."

"Cute," Dean said sarcastically as she snickered. He offered, "How's about we rewind just a couple hours and talk about what you've been up to in Anne Frank's attic, hmm?"

She immediately stopped laughing and Sam snapped his head toward Dean. Sam looked like he was going to strangle the man.

She distracted quickly, reaching for the plate of scones on the desk and holding it up to Jack, "So, listen have you eaten? If you want to heal and get your strength up, you should probably eat something! Scone?" It sounded like a question but it wasn't one.

Sam shifted his foot on top of Dean's and discreetly pressed down hard.

Jack looked disappointed that they weren't staying on topic, but George quietly promised to fill him in later and he took the scone with a thankful smile. He ate slowly while the two brothers squabbled.

Once they quieted down, Jack asked George, "So how did you get here? To this reality?"

"Good question," Dean mused.

"Not really sure," George answered. "One minute I was in my apartment--coincidentally, watching Supernatural--and the next minute, I'm in the library at the bunker talking to Rowena. I guess she was doing some magic to keep the portal that Sam and Dean used to get to you in apocalypse world open. Somehow I came flying through it. That's as much as we know. Rowena has been MIA ever since and I was too nervous to tell anyone. Sam and Dean found out about me when you went missing and I was suspect numero uno."

"What?" Jack shook his head in disbelief. "Why would you be a suspect at all?" He looked between Sam and Dean with a stern expression. Sam looked guilty, Dean indignant yet apologetic.

George jumped in to defend them, "They were just doing their jobs. As far as they knew, I was the last one with you before you went missing. Long story short: Tim was a demon--a shitty one--he told them he saw us together and that I took you out of the bunker."

"Tim. He's the one who told me to go to the garage," Jack explained with a furrowed brow.

"Was he working with Tilly?" Sam asked in confusion.

Jack shook his head, "I doubt it; she hated him. Said he gave her the creeps."

George gave Dean and Sam a knowing expression, to which they looked sheepish. Then she offered, "He probably told Jack to go to the garage because he had set a trap for him?"

"The demon Tilly killed?" Jack guessed tentatively.

"Must have been," Dean nodded. "She comes looking for you, happens upon the demon, gets lucky, ices 'em, and uses it as her cover for getting you out of the house."

The four of them thought about it for a moment and then shrugged agreeably. It made as much sense as anything else at this point. Besides, their focus now needed to be keeping safe from the angels.

Jack broke the silence, suddenly looking at George nervously, "Wait, if you're not from this reality… does that mean you have to go back?"

George's mouth opened automatically to answer and then she froze, realizing she didn't know how. Of course she knew the answer was 'yes.' Obviously, yes, she had to go back. But when she tried to actually speak the words, it didn't feel so easy. She turned a bit pink, glancing at Sam and Dean briefly, then said weakly, "Another good question."

"One that needs some investigating," Sam answered Jack with an undertone of seriousness, subtly trying to catch George's eye, "but for now, we need to focus on getting you healed enough to travel home."

"Shouldn't be too long for that. Lorna said he was healing 'miraculously fast'," Dean offered with a skeptical tone. George grinned wide and squeezed Jack's hand tightly in happiness, but Sam was giving Dean a confused expression. Dean just shrugged and explained, "We're not sure how. Maybe his grace is coming back?"

"Hmm," Sam wasn't convinced, glancing between Jack and George slowly while he considered the information. After a moment he shrugged as well and said to Jack, "Well, no need to look a gift horse in the mouth yet. Besides, we also need to be prepared; with the amount of work they put into it, I would imagine the angels might not walk away from you so easily." He looked at Dean with concern and found him nodding in agreement.

"We should reinforce the warding. I'll call Cas; update him and see if there's anything stronger we can add," Dean said with a nod, whipping out his phone and dialing. When he left the room to make his phone call, Sam and George spent some time catching up with Jack.

The two of them tried to cheer him up from his feelings of guilt over Tilly, asked if he'd gotten any more insight on what the angel's were planning, and filled him in on their trip to find him, explaining a little bit more about George's other-wordly origins. George didn't move from his bedside; every so often she'd reach out to take Jack's hand and squeeze it tightly, relishing the warmth. She was so thrilled to see he was healing well, the image of his pale, dead body still looming in her subconscious.

______

A short while later, George walked into the cottage alone. She found Dean fresh out of the shower, toweling off his head. He was dressed in PJ pants and an old, faded whiskey brand shirt.

"Hiya!" George hadn't seen him since he left to call Cas. He nodded an acknowledgement and she told him, "Jack wanted to use the bathroom and take a shower, so Sam's helping. I see your stink finally got to you, too?" She jabbed with a chuckle.

"Hardy har," Dean smirked. "I was boosting the warding and things got messy."

"Well my nose thanks you either way," She cracked.

With a shake of his head he joked, "Are you familiar with the term 'little sister I never wanted'?"

George's impish smile faltered a bit and she shrugged, "Very." Dean furrowed his brow at her curiously and she explained with a shrug, "I have a brother; he's 10 years older. Travis."

"He's hard on you?" Dean asked, his tone much less gruff than she was used to.

"Very. We just never found any common ground, I guess; maybe 10 years was too big a gap or he was too big of a dick? It's a mystery," Dean huffed in amusement and she smiled. "Anyway, I was a surprise for the whole family and he'd gotten used to being a spoiled, only-child. At first, he had grand ideas of being the powerful, protective big brother whose baby sister was a perfect princess with stars in her eyes for him," George paused, seeming to get lost in her memories for a moment. After a beat she shrugged and smiled wryly, "He got me instead."

"A real princess," Dean said sarcastically with an amused smile.

She snorted, "Exactly! Though, in my defense his idea of being my protective big brother was just a lot of ordering me around and using me as the fall guy for everything."

"And?" He smirked like only an annoying big brother can. He clearly didn't see a problem with her description.

George rolled her eyes in frustration, "Ugh, you sound exactly like Ryan."

"Is that someone I should know?"

"Absolutely," George nodded definitively. "Remember? My-"

"Oh right, your friend, the--the--What'd you call her? Your 'Winchester Wiki'?" He shook his head in amusement.

"Exactly! My friend--my beautiful, smart, incredibly badass best friend and Supernatural savant, Ryan. Also like a sister to me; wonderfully supportive, helped me through a lot of shit, but does tend to favor the 'tough-love' approach," She said in a tone that indicated she knew Dean could relate. When he didn't immediately comment, she added, "She also never turns down a bourbon, makes the best pecan pie in all of Indiana--possibly the country--and she's got a fantastic pair of--" She waited for his eyebrow to raise curiously before finishing, "--.38 glocks." His face quickly dropped in only slight disappointment but she could tell he was intrigued, which made her smirk joyfully, "Got all kinds of fancy engravings. I don't know spit about guns, but they're cool as shit. And did I mention she was beautiful?"

"Once or twice," Dean mused, shaking his head with a half smile. "She sounds too good to be true."

"Well, that's what I thought about S-er, the two of you and look where we are, now?" She joked. "She's definitely not too good to be true, but she is a bit geographically undesirable at present..."

"You trying to fix me up?" Dean snorted.

"Oh that's crazy, don't be ridiculous!" She laughed, waving him off. "I mean, how could I possibly even pull that off…" Trailing off slowly, Dean narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. When it seemed like she was actually considering the possibilities, he cleared his throat pointedly, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a chuckle, she refocused, "Er, anyway! My brother? Right, yes, well when my independence got in the way of his award for world's best brother, he turned on me; kinda became the thing I could have used a big brother to protect me from. He never saw the irony there," She joked, trying to keep the mood light, but Dean could tell it was a painful subject for her.

After a moment of awkward silence, Dean apologized, "Well, sorry if I-"

George waved him off, "No, please. You're fine. As annoying as you are, the big brother vibe I'm getting is far less hostile than Travis' was--is. Is." She had to remember to speak in the present tense. Her family wasn't dead, they just didn't exist. Here. Shaking the confusing thoughts from her head she added, "Besides, it's not exactly his fault; I could have let him be the brother he wanted to be. I just never felt like I needed protecting."

Dean chortled quickly, "Because you're so tough?" George narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance but it's not like she could argue. Suddenly, Dean's expression changed to a thoughtful one. He set down his towel, "Speakin'a which, c'mere."

Motioning for her to follow, he walked to the small, 8' x 8' open space in the main room. He placed two hands on her shoulders and maneuvered her into position close to the edge of the square, near the back of the loveseat.

"What are we doing?" She asked in confusion, though still allowing him to move her.

"Teaching you how to protect yourself." His tone was matter-of-fact. She assumed Dean didn't take the time to train people he didn't think were capable, so it surprised her. Feeling very honored, she ignored her immediate instincts to argue with him and tried to pay attention.

Tapping her body in certain spots as he spoke he instructed, "Active stance--allows you to move quickly. Keep most of your weight on the balls of your feet, bend your knees a bit. Right or left handed?"

"Uh--right!" She answered hastily.

He placed a hand on her right shoulder and pressed it backward, "Position yourself to the side, dominant side furthest from your opponent." He lifted clenched fists to his cheeks and instructed, "Keep your hands up here. About at your cheeks. Makes it so you can throw punches fast and still protect your face." She lifted her hands, too, mimicking his movements. "Rule number one when fighting monsters: there are no rules. Their goal is to kill you. Your goal is to survive, and you aren't bound by any etiquette, so you do whatever you have to."

"Fuck politeness, got it," She nodded understandingly.

"You want to aim for anything squishy: eyes, cheeks, nose, throat, stomach--"

"Nads?" She interjected with a chuckle.

"Well, yes and no; it's not going to slow down demons or angels the same way it would slow me down. That being said, it's as good a place as any to stab. Use everything you can: your hands, your nails, your teeth, your feet, your body weight. Even your environment; look for things you can grab and swing, furniture you can use to trip them up with, any distractions you have at your disposal is fair game." As he spoke, he pointed to things around the room she could potentially use for defense. "And almost anything can be a weapon. One time, I even used a pen! But, don't try that right away. It's an advanced skill," He added with a smug tone of caution. She had to hide her eye roll.

When he was done impressing upon her the importance of creativity and resourcefulness, they spent about 15 minutes on proper stance and positioning. Dean then had her practicing a few punches into his hand. He watched her closely, providing quick, direct corrections that she tried her best to keep up with.

"OK, good," He praised flatly when she finally landed a succession of strong punches into his palm. He positioned himself in front of her as an opponent and ordered, "Now, try to punch me in the face."

George hesitated, dropping her shoulders a bit, "What?"

Dean quickly moved over to her and roughly shifted her body back into position. "I said," He then moved back in front of her, "Try to punch me in the face."

"...Are you sure?" She asked curiously. She couldn't deny that it did sound like fun.

Dean smirked smugly, "I'm sure. Try to punch me."

Hesitating for only a moment more before doing her best to maintain the ideal stance, she swung and missed predictably. He corrected a few things and advised, "You've got a good stance, you need to focus on follow-through; don't hold back because you think you might hurt me. Remember when you thought I was Michael and you came at me with the cleaver?"

George nodded, remembering, "Right, I do. That was terrifying--thought you were going to kill me."

"Exactly. You gotta use that fear and commit. And remember what I said: be creative, use all your resources. Just because you missed the first swing doesn't mean you need to stop."

Not entirely sure how to interpret his advice--was she supposed to grab a lamp and start swinging?--she mainly corrected her posture and tried three more times. She missed each time, but was improving.

She got back into position and took a determined breath, focusing her energy on landing her knuckles across his cocky face. Just as she was about to swing the cottage door opened and Sam walked in. Dean turned slightly to look at him and without thinking George swung as hard as she could. Her third knuckle took the brunt as she landed her fist on the top of his cheekbone and he jerked back slightly, letting out a grunt of pain and shock.

"Ow!" She howled, holding her now throbbing hand gently. Then, she stared at Dean, who was holding his hand up over his cheek. In shock, she blurted, "Oh my god, I--!"

"You punched me!" Dean shouted indignantly.

"I did!" She shouted happily back.

"Fuckin' cheap shot," Dean was annoyed but it was waning by the second, realizing he was actually impressed at how good the hit had been. For her, anyway.

"You told me to use any distraction! When you looked away, I saw my opportunity," George grinned proudly, her eyes wide still; she couldn't believe she'd actually hit him. Holding her hand tenderly, she looked at Sam with an amazed grin, "I punched Dean Winchester!" Sam was confused but her pride was charming, so he gave a small thumbs up and smiled. Walking over to her, he inspected her hand carefully for injury.

Dean walked over to the freezer, shaking his head, "Yea, yea, yea. Not bad, it might even leave a mark." Though his form of praise seemed sarcastic, he said it with sincerity causing her to beam. The only things in the freezer were a can of juice concentrate and an ice tray, both of which he pulled out and set on the counter, "but you still need to practice landing the hits when there aren't any distractions."

She rolled her eyes at his perfectionism and looked at Sam, who was gently poking and prodding her sore fingers, "Is he always like this?"

"Pfft. Didn't you say you watched the show?" Sam joked, guiding her over to the sink where Dean was wrapping some ice cubes in a dish towel. When they got close, Dean handed her the makeshift ice pack. Sam took it before she could and maneuvered her hand to rest gently, palm down in his, assessing, "It was a good punch but you want to try to land primarily with these top two knuckles." Sam kept hold of the ice pack with three fingers and extended his first two, placing them gently on her top two knuckles in demonstration. He explained, "They're the strongest. These back two are much weaker and very easily broken, or in your case, badly bruised. Boxing lessons?" Sam then asked his brother with a smirk. Dean shrugged affirmatively.

"How is it that I land a good punch and end up in more pain than you?" George grumbled at Dean, slowly getting distracted by Sam's tenderness.

"He's had more practice being punched than you've had punching people," Sam quipped, moving to lay the ice pack against her knuckles.

"That's very presumptuous-oowww! Son of a bitch!" She growled at him, flinching when the cold, stiff material pressed against her injury.

"Is it?" Sam teased her, pulling her hand back firmly, yet carefully, and placing the ice pack down more gently. George shivered a bit; from the icy temperature, of course, certainly not from his manhandling.

"Princess says what," Dean muttered at her with a laugh. Clearly having heard him, she stuck her tongue out at him quickly. Dean held the juice concentrate up to his cheek with a smirk, "Probably gonna need some more pain meds."

"Oh, actually that's why I came looking for you," Sam interjected, looking down at her. "Jack fell asleep after I got him dressed and back in bed. Thanks for changing the sheets, by the way," He smiled gratefully and she smiled back with a bit of a blush, her fingers wiggling against his palm.

"You're welcome," She murmured softly.

Sam paused, getting lost in her eyes, then explained, "Um, anyway, Lorna called and instructed me to give Jack his next round of fluids and meds. Figured you might need some too." The two lovebirds stared at each other for a beat, before Sam nodded toward his pants, "The pills are in my pocket." George momentarily considered reaching her uninjured hand into his front pocket and feeling around; when she met his eye briefly, she could tell he had the same thought. They both blushed.

"For fucks sake, you two," Dean scolded them, turning away to grab a glass of water. He considered tossing it on them.

"Uh, here--why don't I--" George awkwardly reached up and took the ice pack from Sam's hand, freeing him up to reach into his pocket for the pills. She set the rag of ice down carefully on the counter top to be able to then take the pills from him. Tossing them into her mouth, she took the water from Dean next and quickly gulped them down.

"Blech!" She hated the feeling of medicine on her tongue.

Sam grabbed the ice pack quickly and took her hand again, placing the ice gingerly on top. They began sharing googly eyes at each other once more. Dean rolled his eyes when they started giggling for no reason; he could tell his brother had it bad.

"Alright, well, if Jack's down, then I'm going to hit the sack, too. You crazy kids have fun." As much as he wanted to enjoy this, he figured he'd give Sam a break just this once. Maybe he was going soft. Or not, "Try to remember, the walls are thin and there are no doors, so keep the moaning down to a dull roar." With a smug smirk he headed up the stairs.

#sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #spn fanfiction #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #spn fic

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kidneysquid · 6 years

Text

Freak (preview of part 3)

Hello my lovelies!

So sorry for the delay. I am currently in the Quebec providence of Canada on vacation with my family.

I still have my lap top with me but there are a few challenges.

One: I am with my family, and it’s awkward writing into the smutty details with them around (quite the mood killer).

Two: I am skiing and hiking on a daily basis so I don’t have as much time as I’d like to write even though it’s my drug at this point.

Three: Part 1 and 2 were already written when I first posted them, hence why they were so long. While I have over 30 pages worth of drafts and notes on the story, I spend extensive amounts of time editing and rewriting (I have a strange writing process).

I am SO SORRY for how short this is. But I’m honestly debating on just doing posts that are 1,000 to 2,000 words a post to give you guys satisfaction and to give me more time to perfect my chapters.

I know my character (played by Harry) in this is kinda OOC but NOT TO WORRY. He is still his dark demon self. This story will always be dark despite it’s moments of seeming light.

I AM ALWAYS EDITING AND ADDING TO MY CHAPTERS and while have the dates of additions on each post, so I suggest re-reading them if you want :)

Warning: Language and explicit content and triggers

Enjoy!

“Mm…” Soft sheets tickle my cheek.

I know where I am.

I’m home. In my apartment. Jax is purring in his corner of the bed. The white, ‘half dick’ mark splattered on his cute little otherwise black face. Leaning against his white sock paw.

The redolence of honeysuckle incense fills my nostrils.

I forgot that cozy feeling I always get in my bedroom. Filled with all the tapestries and black and white photographs I took in college. My deep purple drapes and light purple sheets.

I open my eyes, and for the first time I’m not upset to see how messy it is. Clothes scattering the floor. The oriental rug tilted to the side. Not an empty space of surface on my desks and drawers.

I always told myself each time I’d manage to get my room clean that I would keep it that way.

It never happens.

I lean up on my right elbow lifting to get up, but something long and heavy keeps me pinned to the bed.

Wait, where did that come from?

I shuffled lightly against comforting sheets. The honeysuckle scent was gone to my chagrin. Just clean, must. Masculine. Light spice.

I twisted my neck hearing it crack. It was laying on something hard. I was on my right side, as always. Thanks to the car accident I was in that destroyed my left shoulder when I was eighteen.

My lids were too heavy when I tried opening them.

The steady hum of Baby Cat’s purrs was replaced by the unmistakable tapping of rain. On the roof and windows.

Rain

My favorite sound in the world.

Car rain in particular.

Even after arriving at my destination, I’d sit in the driver’s seat with my engine turned off and remain engulfed in the comforting pitter-pattering beats bouncing on the roof in steady rhythms.

There was a stale decaying taste in my mouth. When I parted my lips I realized it was the distinct flavor of morning breath.

Really bad morning breath.

I swallowed hearing the familiar pop in my eardrums, unmistakably from clenching my jaw throughout the night.

Ever since I was a little girl I’d always had problems with grinding my teeth in my sleep. The dentists told me if I didn’t wear a mouth guard at night I would ware them down to my gums.

Mom always told me it was from the night terror’s I’d experienced at a young age.

She never believed me when I told her dad was the one who started them. Not intentionally.

They say night terrors mostly occur in those who’ve experienced sexual trauma at a young age.

Dad never meant it though. He didn’t realize that his mistake would fuck me up for life.

But I don’t want to think about that now though.

I groaned wincing at the usual ache of a filled bladder upon waking.

Human bodily functions can be such a bitch sometimes.

Something warm and heavy was circled around my waist. Whatever it was, the fabric of my shirt was damp with a starting layer of sweat under its weight.

Dear Hyperhidrosis: Fuck you.

I finally opened my eyes and my heart stopped. There was a chest with facing swallows beneath the collar bones.

I trailed my eyes. There was something that looked like a cursive lowercase “g” on the front of his shoulder. Then the date “1957” above the end of his right collar bone.

My pulse throbbed in my veins. Frozen sweat trickled my forehead and the back of my neck. I was the fawn that unknowingly fell asleep in the bear’s den. And any movement to sneak out of the cave would surely wake him up.

But in this case, I was in his claws.

I finally lifted my gaze to his face.

He was truly pleasing to look at.

When he wasn’t t talking that is.

When he wasn’t doing anything for that matter.

But when the devil sleeps, he’s peaceful. Unaware of the world of pain and destruction he created.

How can something so horrible be beautiful at the same time? We are taught as children that beauty represents good. But as we grow older we realize it’s often used to mask the evil.

My left arm was folded and squished between our chests. I tried to move away but to my horror realized I was attached to him. My right arm was losing circulation with his weight on top of it. To make it worse, our legs were tangled beneath the sheets.

I always preferred sleeping with a pillow between my legs. It felt great for my lower back. Also a light pool of sweat would tend to form between my thighs when I sleep with my legs together.

No not like that.

Another fuck you to hyperhidrosis.

I tried to move but my arm, numb at this point, wouldn’t budge beneath him.

Fuck.

This is why I’ve never been a good sleeping partner. (Sleep in the literal sense that is.) I always got complaints about how much I move around in my sleep. I was a restless sleeper. My family would even wake up from the resounding hits on the walls.Thanks to my vivid dreams and I would always always always wake up in a position where any non-subtle movement would wake the poor victim sharing the bed with me. Leaving me lying in discomfort. Against heat.

I laid there. Frozen. Watching the steady in and out movements of his chest. His breaths were smooth and tickling my face.

The tensing in my shoulders ached.

I trailed my eyes down the arm snaked around me, biceps lightly budging. Maybe if I could somehow ease it off me then I’d be able to scoot away.

But that would be ignoring the fact my other arm’s still anchored to the bed.

I let out a breath and rested my head back down. Fading scratches trailed down his chest, his shoulders and his upper arm

Good.

He’s not the only one who gets to leave marks.

That’s when I caught the design beneath his sternum on his upper belly. I’d only had a quick glimpse of it, when he took off his shirt before pouncing on me.

I shivered at the memory.

I studied it and to my surprise realized it was an anatomical design of a butterfly.

I’d already known his tattoos were lame, but this one definitely took the cake.

I’ve never seen a dude with a butterfly tattoo before. Not until now. Why the hell would a guy get one?

Breaking gender conventions is always good though.

I always supported it.

It truly wasn’t a bad design though. Finely detailed, actually.I studied the shadings and the intricate lines as it lightly flapped its wings with the inhales and exhales of his breaths.

“Enjoying the view?”

The blood in my veins froze and I looked up. His eyes were open. And they were focused on me to my horror. Observing me drinking him in. The corner of his lip tugged up in a smirk.

Ignoring the pain of my swollen fingers, I pushed my free arm against his chest, moving to get away from him. He tightened his grip and pinned me to him. Easily caging me in his arms.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” he whispered, nuzzling his face in my hair.

At this point I didn’t give a shit if he could smell my putrid breath.

He was the definition of a space invader.

A minute passed.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Mmm..” Something rubbed against my hair. “You can hold it.”

“I’m serious. I really have to go.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

My cheeks began to burn. “I can’t feel my arm.” I tried moving it out from under him.

A light chuckle rumbled against me. “I guess you shouldn’t have wrapped it around me then.”

Oh you fucker-

I wanted to dig my nails and slash into the swallow. But my fucking fingers. Instead, I kept trying to straighten my arm and wiggle my body against him trying to untangle out leg.

His teeth sunk into his lip and he closed his eyes. “Mm… Keep that up baby.” His hand on my waist lowered and tightly gripped my ass before lifting my leg higher on his hip as he grinded himself against my thigh resting between his legs.

Fucking pervert!

“No!” I somehow yanked my arm out from under him and shoved him back with all my might digging the fingers of my right hand in that fucking swallow, kicking my legs out of his and rolling away.

There was a crash and a wail of pain.

Laughter filled the room. “Well good morning to you too, beautiful.”

I stood up from the floor, he was curled up on his side shaking with laughter. Hair extremely disheveled, his fist in front of his face, eyes squeezed shut with wrinkles in their corners and white teeth laughing.

It was reminiscent of a little boy being caught after his prank.

Not knowing what else to do, I gripped a pillow and slammed it on him as screeched:

“Oh FUCK!” Hit! “YOU!” Hit!

He kept laughing harder, nearly cackling as he caught it on the last hit. His body shaking uncontrollably.

Rage burned my eyes and the blood scorching beneath my skin making my face red. How the fact can he be like this?! So nonchalant and carefree after what he did to me?!

Ignoring him, I stomped to the bathroom in the corner slamming the door. I could still hear his laughter in the other room.

I took down my pants, sat on the toilet and had one of the most relieving pisses in my life.

Thank. God.

I reached between my legs and observed my parts. I was significantly less swollen down there, and the ache was beginning to slowly dull.

Good. He hasn’t raped me in my sleep. Not yet at least.

After flushing the toilet, I went to the sink and washed my hands before I brushed my teeth.

How long have I been out for?

I ran my face through cold water. Washing the grogginess out of my eyes before sipping on some water. God I was thirsty.

I looked up in the mirror. The healing of the marks on my face had progressed nicely. Including the bruises on my neck.

But something was missing.

I could see my nipples poking through the grey fabric.

No.

I gripped the hem of my shirt, yanked it up and shrieked.

To my horror, I was not wearing my sports bra. And I distinctly remembered putting it on before succumbing to unconsciousness.

Holding the shirt to my neck, I inspected the condition of my breasts. They were still tender and sore, of course. And were pocketed with yellow fading marks. I wasn’t sure if any of them were new.

Swallowing, I unlocked the door and turned the knob.

He was lying on the bed, torso still bare and tattoos proudly on display. His hands behind his head with his legs crossed (wearing pants thank god) and an infuriating grin on his face.

I looked at the lamp next to the bed, clenching my good fist. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A couple of days now. I kept checking to make sure you were breathing. You were right to only take half of the oxy, otherwise you would probably be dead.”

Shit.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose. I looked up and straightened my shoulders. “Why is my bra off?”

“I removed it.”

My eyes lit up and my nostrils flared. “You what?!”

“You were wheezing a little and coughing in your sleep. I figured it was suffocating you.” His gaze lowered. “Besides I can see how it would be... confining for you.”

Oh. No. He. Did. Not.

“You saw my tits while I was unconscious!?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen them before-”

“That’s no excuse to be a pervert!”

“It was to make you more comfortable. I was thinking of your wellbeing. You began breathing fine right after. It was constraining your chest.”

I inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my pursed lips. This was very true. Having a DD cup doesn’t exactly go well with sleeping with bras on. Especially sports bras. I’d already read about how bad it is for you to do that on the internet. So in a sense, he did do me a favor.

“I swear to god,” I snarled, curling my upper lip. “If you molested me in anyway-”

“Believe me, darling, you would have woken up.”

I clenched my jaw along with my good fist.

“Don’t worry, it’s right there.” His dimple popped as he pointed to the chair. Sure enough the fabric was neatly folded on it.

My face grew red. I stomped over, snatched it and disappeared in the bathroom slamming the door harder than before.

I reappeared when I was all adjusted.

“I’m hungry.”

#writing #freak #my writing #my work #creative writing #dark content #harry styles fanfction #harry styles smut #though sadly there is no smut in this chapter #but rest assured there will be #skatin #short af

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theoddcatlady · 7 years

Text

Hickey

A great one night stand leaves two things for me: great memories and no strings attached. Bonus points is if there’s no evidence left behind. But sometimes one cannot get lucky enough for that bonus.

“Oooooh, someone got a little action this weekend,” Aisha teased as she slid over to my cubicle on her chair, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

I laughed sheepishly and rubbed my neck, where the still prominently red hickey stood out from my skin, like a proud signal of ‘I got laid’. “Yeah. He got a lil mouthy,” I said.

Aisha laughed and slapped her knee. “Least someone around here is. Who was it? Was it Ben? Oh my god, Chris, it better have been Ben!”

“No, no,” I waved that off, Ben was straighter than a ruler and I was too impatient to try to change that, “some guy I met at the bar. Sexy as hell, name was uh...” I had to rack my brain for a few seconds, “Claud? Or something weird like that.”

Aisha wrinkled her nose. “Not something I’d imagine screaming, but eh, could be worse. What was he like? Appearance wise, appearance wise, I’m not interested in every dirty detail!” She raised her hands as if she expected to be physically bombarded with tales about exactly how big his throbbing dick was.

I had to bite down on my lip to stop from laughing too hard. “Uh, tall. Dark hair. Accent, I think it was Russian... Broad shoulders. Washboard abs. Really standoffish at first but I got him to warm up after a few shots. But yeah, super mouthy. You can’t even see the ones under my shirt, I look like I’m polka dotted.” I rubbed my neck again. “How bad is it?”

“Honestly, it can pass for a bug bite.” Aisha slid back to her desk. “I think I just saw Bianca, act like you’ve been working all morning.”

A good friend knew when to stop gossiping. The time to stop gossiping was when the bitchy boss came into the area and started stalking about like a wildcat.

About noonish, my mouth was dryer than the Sahara Desert. I reached for my water bottle only to find that I’d already emptied it. Super thirsty thanks to the dry ass air conditioning. I groaned and got up to refill it.

“Don’t be slacking, Chris,” Bianca quipped as she walked on by. I pressed my lips together, ignoring the urge to remind her that I could absolutely get up to get something to drink before walking to the bathroom.

Once I was in there, I decided to take a piss too- I’d seriously been downing water all morning.

I just finished pissing when the door opened. I caught sight of Ben walking into the washroom, looking like he’d just been told he had three weeks to live. I zipped up and went to wash my hands. “You look like hell,” I deadpanned.

“My wife just sent me divorce papers.”

Oooh. In my shock I accidentally turned on the hot water too high, burning my hands. I hissed and quickly added cold water. “Ouch. Um… sorry?” I was horrible for these kind of situations. Especially since Ben was ultra fucking sexy. Hard to concentrate on things.

“It’s… I just…” Ben ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck I did wrong, you know man?”

As someone with commitment issues, I could more along the lines of what Ben’s wife was thinking, but I knew that’d be a dick move to bring up. “She’s a bitch if she’s not even gonna try to make it work,” I said as I dried my hands. “You’re a great guy, she’s clearly fucking this up.”

Ben sighed and leaned back, but I caught a hint of a smile on his lips. “Thanks, man. I gotta get back to work… hey, is that a hickey or a spider bite?” His eyes landed on my neck and I cleared my throat and adjusted my collar.

“Former.”

“Nice, er… maybe not nice. It looks really uncomfortable,” Ben walked up to the other sink and splashed water on his face, “I gotta get back to work. Keep the divorce thing on the downlow, kay?” With that, he walked out.

Frowning, I examined the hickey in the mirror. It did kinda look worse than it felt, it actually looked a little… swollen. Weird.

The next morning I stumbled into the bathroom, wondering if there was anything nice I could say to Ben. I like the single and ready to mingle life, I don’t know how people tie themselves down to someone for a more permanent situation.

I stepped into the shower and looked down at my chest.

And then I screamed.

I leaped out of the shower, nearly slamming my dick into the counter. I looked at the mirror, wondering if it was just a trick of the light, but my stomach dropped so hard I felt myself nearly puke.

My chest was covered in what looked like swollen bug bites, bright red and irritated. I poked one and my stomach churned. What the actual shit. I sunk to the floor and touched the one just below my belly button, it looked like Rudolph’s fucking nose. It gave under my harder prods, like an oversized pimple.

I remembered Claud sucking extra hard right about there.

Shit. I had an STI. I was going to die.

The hardest one to hide was, of course, on my neck. Turtlenecks were not my style, but I did not want to show off my ‘hickey’. Aisha rolled over to my desk, her lips pursed in a concerned manner. “Whoa, Chris. What’s with the turtle neck? Getting tired of the hickey jokes?” She asked.

I swallowed. This was humiliating. “Um… yeah, sure. It just gets a lil old. Plus I might be visiting my mom tonight and she still thinks I’m a straight virgin. Can’t have her realizing I got my ass rammed by a hot guy Saturday,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.

Aisha was a good friend, so she knew something was up, but she was also a good friend who knew to back off. She chewed her bottom lip before she nodded. “Okay, okay. I can’t blame you. I’ll lay off too,” She said before rolling back to her desk. Right on time too, Bianca the Vulture was doing her rounds.

I kept my eyes glued to my computer until I got so thirsty my lips started to crack. I could feel blood welling up on the inside of my mouth. I got up and walked to the bathroom to refill my water bottle.

It was halfway full when I felt my neck twitch.

Gasping, I pulled down my collar to reveal the painfully large lump. It twitched again, noticeably, before it began to pulse.

The fucking STD pimple from hell was pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

I couldn’t breathe. I carefully prodded it with my finger and it squirmed. I jerked my hand away and nearly lost my balance. I couldn’t fucking breathe. What the actual shit was wrong with me?!

“There you are!”

Hearing a woman’s voice in the men’s bathroom is really not something you want to hear at the best of times, least when you’re me. And at this moment, I really wanted to tell Bianca exactly what I thought of her stupid bottle blond perm as she strutted in like she owned the place.

She set her hands on her hips as I slowly turned around, keeping the monstrosity of a bump on my neck covered with my hand. “You’ve been in here ten minutes and you’re just primping in the mirror. Don’t think this won’t turn up in your next review!” She shook a finger at me before she wrinkled her nose. “What the hell are you doing? Put your hand down, it’s creeping me out!”

“I’m taking care of something,” I managed to say in a strangled tone, “I think I need to go home, I’m… I’m not well.”

“Bullshit!” Bianca strode up and ripped my hand down, her eyes turning baseball size when she saw the thing on my neck. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck-”

The lump exploded, yellow-green pus covering her face and wide open mouth. For once, Bianca had nothing to say, only to look frantically at the glob that had landed on her fingernail before my neck exploded in excruciating pain.

I collapsed back against the counter, banging my head as it felt like something was pulling on my neck. No, not on my neck. Inside. From the inside of my fucking neck. I couldn’t see it. I just felt it pulling itself from the newfound wound and in a dark blur launched itself into Bianca’s mouth.

Bianca gagged loudly before her eyes rolled back, the veins in the whites popping and flooding her eyes with blood before she collapsed on the ground, writhing like she was being electrocuted. My head felt light, I could only watch as her body twitched a few more times before going deathly still. No breathing. No movement. I blacked out after that.

I woke up on an unknown couch. The place was nice. Super nice. I sat up and nearly cried, black dots swarming in front of my eyes that forced me to lay back down.

“Chris? You okay?”

Ben walked into the room and I swore I was in heaven. When Ben dressed down, he dressed down. Sweatpants, t-shirt. Had a bleach stain on said t-shirt. Not gonna lie- it was fucking hot.

Memories of Bianca’s bloody eyes killed any thoughts of getting turned on.

Ben sat at the end of the couch, those perfect fucking eyes looking at me. He looked so damn worried.

“We found you and Bianca… well, Bianca’s body in the bathroom. Doc says it looks like she had an aneurysm burst. Ticking time bomb. I mean, I hated her, but Jesus, what a way to go. I offered to take you back to my place to keep an eye on you, you might have a concussion and we’ll go the hospital if you feel like you need it.” He reached forward and rested a hand on my knee. “What happened?”

I opened my mouth and made the least sexy gurgling sound imaginable. Fucking kill me.

“I’ll get you something to drink.”

Water! God, water sounded amazing right now. When he returned with a bottle, I drained the thing so fast it was probably embarrassing, water dripping down my chin. I cleared my throat, god. Still so fucking thirsty. “Thanks,” I croaked.

“Good thing I grabbed two,” Ben laughed as he handed me the one he’d taken a sip or two from. I sucked that one down at a more respectable rate, finally feeling a little quenched. I still didn’t sit up though. I learned my lesson.

“I… I think I’m sick.”

Ben’s eyebrows drew together and he leaned forward. “Yeah? What’s wrong?” He said.

God, he was gonna get freaked out. I whimpered as I pulled up my shirt, shuddering once I saw the ‘hickeys’. They’d gotten worse, some starting to turn purple at their tip and becoming cone shaped. Ben gasped and shot back, his face twisted with revulsion. “Fucking Christ! What happened to you?” He breathed out.

I sobbed as I began to pull my shirt back down. “I don’t fucking know, man. I was just… these all happened after…” I felt my nose start to get all drippy. Boy. That was sexy.

Ben stopped me and slowly touched one of the hickeys. It pulsed and swelled. He breathed in sharply, still obviously thinking ‘what the actual fuck?’ but also a little fascinated. “The time you got the hickey?” He guessed.

“Dude, I swear to god, I used protection,” I said, staring at the ceiling. “I’m not an idiot, I’m a fucking gay guy whose uncle died from fucking AIDs… the guy was all over me though. And I swear to god each one of his lil marks he left turned into… these...” I sobbed and covered my face. Ben was going to freak the fuck out. I was fucked.

Again, Ben touched one of the swollen lumps. “I’m not assuming anything, I promise, shit happens… but… what are they?” He asked.

“… This one,” I pointed at my neck, which had been bandaged up when I was out, “Something… something came out of it. And it attacked Bianca. And… and it killed her.”

Ben jerked back much quicker. “Fuck!” He eyed the hickeys again, clearly much more careful. “But… how… that’s not… they’re going to open soon?” He guessed.

I glanced down and saw that the one he’d touched had begun to twitch. I whimpered as I covered it. “Just go, get out of here. I’m fucking dead, man.”

Ben got up, looking ready to run out the front door… before he sat down and started to rub the lump. I gasped and swatted his hand away. “Jesus, what are you doing?!” I shrieked.

“… I mean. I might as well be dead too.”

Ben glanced around the room, his eyes started to seem whimsical. “We’d been married so long. Ten years this November. Highschool sweethearts. Prom King and Queen,” definitely not shocked he was Prom King, “and I was finally bringing up having kids… and she’s gone.” His chest shuddered.

He was crazy. He was fucking crazy. “Come on, Ben, don’t be stupid. Please. You have so much going for you!” Especially with Bianca having kicked it, he’d be in line for a promotion. Morbid way to think about it, but fair, I figured.

“No I don’t.” Ben sniffed and wiped his eyes quickly. “I… I really don’t. And hey, at least this way you won’t be alone?”

Alone.

I didn’t realize that once he’d left I’d be alone. With these fucking twitching lumps that used to be hickeys. And god, I hated being alone. I’d rather have my innards ripped out than be alone. And I’d especially not want to die alone.

I took his hand and sobbed. “God, you’re a fucking moron, Ben,” I said as the lump slowly began to swell.

He nodded before he brought his fingers up and like popping a pimple, squished the largest lump.

The smell of pus and rotten flesh filled the air and I started to gag. What the hell was wrong with me?! How had I not felt pain?! How was I still not in pain!?

The pain kicked in when the thing began to crawl from my ribs.

It was like a worm, a brown worm with yellow stripes lining its side. It probably wasn’t longer than a shoelace and didn’t seem to have eyes. It squirmed out from inside me, my skin making a squelching sound. Its parasitical jaws opened, three teeth from its small mouth extending out. Ben was frozen, staring at that thing.

Then he reached up and petted it.

I could’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt. Ben was petting a goddamn murderous snake-worm parasite that had eaten god knows how much of me. It was fucking crazy.

Instead of trying to rip his throat out though, the parasite seemed to croon, leaning into his touch. It rubbed against his fingers before its teeth set into his finger. Ben screeched as blood started pouring from the stub that was once his pointer finger. The parasite squealed as it crawled from my chest and dove for his stomach.

Ben’s mouth opened in a silent scream as it burrowed in, I caught a glimpse of its fin like tail before it was gone. Ben’s eyes went glassy before he collapsed on top of me… and with his weight he successfully burst all of the remaining hickeys on my chest.

I screamed as the parasites erupted from my skin and punctured through Ben’s, Ben’s eyes going blank as they chewed right through his shirt and into his skin. One bit through his neck and blood spurted onto my face. I cried and clung onto the couch and squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for things to become dark and for me to finally just fucking die.

But that didn’t happen.

I didn’t lose consciousness. I didn’t start to go numb. Everything remained as sharp and painful as when it first started. And even though I thought I was stuck to a dead guy, Ben was just as alive as I was.

It must’ve been hours after it first started when Ben finally seemed to come back to life. He gasped and tried to pull back, only for the worms connecting our bodies to screech and their bodies to go taut. Ben cried out and fell back on top of me.

“… I think they’re eating me,” He gasped out.

I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder. “I’m… I’m fuckin sorry, man,” I whimpered.

Ben’s bloody hand reached up to my face and stroked it. “… Not your fault,” He groaned before passing out again.

Outside grew dark. I felt tired. Ben kept drifting in and out. I knew we had to die soon.

Then two of the worms flopped from our bodies and scooted to the door. No! I whimpered and reached for them as they squalled and made their way out of the house from underneath a crack in the door.

“What happened?” Ben slurred.

I cried. Not more people. Not more people.

The two returned back hours later, this time through the window. They had to break it, the shattering of the glass making me jump and the parasites complained about how they were jostled about. The two who returned were much fatter now, and as they squirmed in through holes in my ribs I felt something tear into my stomach.

And then I felt… better.

Ben clearly felt the same effect. He blinked and looked around, even a little color returning to his cheeks. “The fuck?” He muttered.

I reached up and gripped his bicep, pulling back as much as our torsos would allow. Our skin was flayed out, the holes passages between our bodies as the parasites dived in and out. Their squeals grew musical, like they were singing a song.

I laughed.

“They’ll… they’ll take care of us, Ben. We’re their home now. They’ll take care of us.”

#horror stories #scary stories #writers on tumblr #creative writing #sixpenceee stories #my stories

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mini-min-yoongi · 7 years

Text

October AO3 Yoonmin readings:

1) Just like a tattoo (i’ll always have you)

Yoongi eyes him curiously, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observes Jimin’s movements. “First time?”

“Y-yes, I’m a virgin!” Jimin squeaks out, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, embarrassed at his own words.

Some sexual innuendos, Yoongi covered in tattoos and a very shy Jimin. Perfect combination.

2) Kickstart Series (Gang AU) (*)

This entire series is a masterpiece, I loved the story and all the characters. I recommend reading every single one even if Yoonmin is not the main focus in some of them.

2.1. Experto Crede (*)

“I-I don’t understand…” Jimin said, eyes watering as he focused on Yoongi. “I thought…you were going to kill me…in the bathroom.”

“Yeah, well so did I,” Yoongi said wryly, and Jimin flinched, trying to make himself impossibly smaller.

AKA It is a truth universally acknowledged, that Min Yoongi in possession of a heart will be in want of sleep.

I’m not lying when I say that i REALLY liked this one. If I’m not mistaken, this was my first time reading a gang yoonmin au and it was awesome. Dark and protective Yoongi taking care of a scarred Jimin. Keep in mind that this story deals with abuse and torture so please don’t read it unless you are comfortable with those themes. The only “bad” thing about this fic is that it’s only three chapters long (I needed more when I finished it SO BAD). Luckily, the author did a sequel which is the next one ->

2.2. Attero (*)

“Beautiful,” the man repeated under his breath, and Jimin felt a cold shiver travel from the bottom of his back to the nape of his neck. The way he said it wasn’t a compliment, or an observation, it was…it was like something Dongwon would have said, smiling as he held Jimin’s head underwater or ripped out chunks of his hair. It touched something that Jimin thought he’d buried a long time ago.

“H-have a n-nice day,” Jimin said softly, curling his fingers into his uniform apron. Sometimes it was best to pretend.

“Get lost,” Jungkook jerked his chin towards the door. “And don’t come back!” he called after the man, who glanced over his shoulder one last time before leaving the café.

*Follows Experto Crede

I loved seeing Jungkook and his foul mouth working as a barista and trying to protect Jimin with all his might. Also, Yoongi trying to be extremely careful with Jimin, worried about having scared him or disappointing him because of his actions. In general, Yoongi being so soft towards Jimin and wanting to protect him is such a contrast to his profession as a hitman (I MEAN HE CALLS HIM JIMINNIE). It’s a great sequel to Experto Crede and it shows us more of what Jimin had to go through during all those years so please be careful because it contains descriptions of torture and it can be triggering for some people.

2.3. Solus (Jungkook centric) (*)

“Yoongi changed you,” Jin said softly. “But Jimin is changing Yoongi.”

Jungkook frowned, teeth grinding together. “But…but I…” he said, looking at Jin hopelessly. “I don’t want him to change…”

*Companion piece to Experto Crede, but can be read independently.

MY BABY JUNGKOOKIE. I didn’t know I needed this but I really did. I appreciate so much this one because I came to understand better Jungkook’s actions in the first part. He really went through a lot and he just wants to be cherished and loved by the people who helped him and who he also loves. Also, I loved seeing Yoongi’s change in behaviour when he’s with Jimin through the eyes of another person. But the most important thing is how Yoongi cares so much about Jungkook but he’s not able to show him because he feels guilty. The hug broke my heart.

2.4. Cor Aut Mors (Namjoon & Seokjin)

The day Kim Namjoon said no to Kim Seokjin would be the day the earth stopped turning on its axis.

*Companion piece to Experto Crede, but can be read independently.

2.5. Caritas (Hoseok & Taehyung)

“Hoseok,” the boy answered distractedly, looking around the small space, the single bed. “Tae’s room? Are you Tae?”

“Mostly,” Tae shrugged. “Except when they give me medicine, and then I feel much less like him than I’m supposed to.”

“I feel that,” the boy nodded, reaching his arms over his head to stretch, a few joints popping along the way. “Remind me to never try and kill myself again,” he muttered. “One stupid time and they stick you in an asylum for half a year. But hell, I guess it worked. I don’t wanna’ die anymore, I wanna’ kill my family for sticking me in here.”

*Companion piece to Experto Crede, but can be read independently.

3) Give me a sign

Yoongi thinks the universe is a dick for a lot of reasons. Reason #1: It gave a deaf person a soul-mark that revolves around speech. Reason #2: Once he decided to hate his soulmate no matter what they were like, the universe gave him a really attractive soulmate. Reason #3: Said soulmate is overly kind, no matter how much of a dick Yoongi is. Reason #4: Yoongi is definitely fucked.

Soulmates au, deaf and stubborn Yoongi and some bullying. It was a good read.

4) Burn It Up (contains smut) (*)

“Hey,” Yoongi says. “It’s okay, what’s up?”

“I — ” Jimin stutters. “They — I dunno, hyung, I don’t — I think they might have fucked up my dosage or — I don’t — ” His voice cracks and he swallows, a little involuntary noise spilling out of his mouth as he tries to catch his breath.

Yoongi’s eyes widen in realization, something cold and numb slithering around his heart and squeezing so tight he feels like he’s suffocating.

“I think I’m in — ”

Alpha Yoongi and omega Jimin. They are both in BTS. I liked it a lot because the author mixed smut with angst and Yoongi tells us about his past and I really liked reading about his inner turmoil.

5) Where the heart is (contains smut) (*)

She hadn’t been ready to be a mother and Yoongi hadn’t been ready to be a father, but where she had turned tail and run, Yoongi had vowed never to do the same.

Single parent yoongi and babysitter jimin. I’ve been wanting to read this for a very long time and it didn’t disappoint. This story was extremely cute and the smut was GREAT even though what i enjoyed the most was reading about their struggles before they could have sex (living with a little kid is not the ideal scenario for sexy time) and the epilogue

6) Sweeter than sweet (contains smut) (*)

Cupcake shop owner park jimin always worries & waits for his husband, special agent, min yoongi to come back home but one night he doesn’t.

I knew I was going love this the moment I saw the description. I really like seeing bangtan in the role of secret agents and gang aus and if you add a baker Jimin the combination can only be as sweet as this one.

7) Crybaby (work in progress) (*)

Min Yoongi and Park Jimin navigate the troubles of childhood, adolescence and young adulthood together; and all of the ups, downs and trauma that life brings.

“What’s the Park clan’s number one motto huh, Yoongi?”

“…Love yourself.”

GO READ THIS ONE RIGHT NOW. In this story, kid Yoongi has selective mutism and suffers from anxiety. I want to protect little Yoongi with all I have. It’s a work in progress but it’s going to depict Yoongi and Jimin’s lives as they grow up. I don’t like reading stories that are not complete but i’ve been wanting to read it since august and i finally gave in. It’s so well-written, I love Yoongi, Jimin and Jimin’s parents. I just loved all of it and I find Yoongi’s condition so heartbreaking and interesting and in a way relatable. I’ve been dealing with social anxiety for a very long time and even though it has never been to such an extent it still hits close to home and my heart breaks for little yoongs. Can’t wait to see how this story develops, (Seriously, I’m so obsessed with this story that I even made a moodboard because I’ve got no chill).

8) Bullet Boy (work in progress) (*)

If you want to make it big, you’ve got to start off small. This is something that Jimin acknowledges, for he just carries on singing features for underground rappers in the hopes of breaking into the mainstream scene even when the lyrics mean nothing to him.

If you want to make it in the scene, you’ve got to fake it in the scene. This is something that Yoongi understands intimately. But he’s never been one to be a poser, and there’s only far stuntin’ can get you before you burn out like the end of a cigarette.

Yoongi finally wants to move on from his bad past and take the gamble so that he can drop his first mixtape as ‘D-boy’, and he can’t think of anyone more perfect to feature on it than rising talent: Park Jimin.

Jimin really wants to break free from nights spent singing at hip hop clubs for a pittance and finally have his name on an official track in the music charts, but he’s going to need some help navigating the brutal world of music contracts and the paparazzi; and being involved in a scandal the likes of which the industry has never seen before.

GO READ THIS ONE RIGHT NOW TOO. This is another story I didn’t want to start until it was finished but OH WELL. It’s so good, like so freaking good. Her characters are all complex and I love it when fics deal with serious issues such as homophobia. This story is also set in South Korea and the author is working hard to get all the details right and I find that so commendable because it’s not easy at all. I really like how Yoongi ad Jimin kinda fall into the relationship slowly and naturally. I know there’s going to be so much more angst as the story progresses and it’s going to break my heart but the author said that it’ll have a happy ending so I’d recommend everyone to give it a try. It’s seriously good.

9) Pretty Little Baby Boy (contains smut) (*)

Jimin glanced through the open gap in the bag to see starched white cotton and a flash of bright red tartan, and that was when he realised what he was looking at.

Yoongi had brought a schoolgirl uniform to the love motel with him, which he was quite clearly going to wear just for him.

I read it this summer but I totally forgot about it because I didn’t write it down so that’s why I’m including it now (also i just reread it because it’s so good so here you go). Soft smut is always a blessing. Yoongi and Jimin explore crossdressing in this fic and you can find insecure Yoongi and reassuring boyfriend Jimin who is eager to see this side of his lover. Everything about this was so freaking cute. ALSO, Jimin taking pictures of Yoongi crossdressing was SO GOOD.

Special mention of the month:

~Creating a Home Series by (*)

Namjoon/Seokjin + the rest of BTS as their foster/adopted kids

(She’s got a Tumblr account @thecheekybrunette so give her lots of love for such an amazing story) (Thank you so much for making me feel so many things and giving me five kids that I’ve come to love as if they were my own)

1.1. Welcome Home (*)

Seokjin is used to getting calls from social workers at all hours of the day, but never this late at night.

(In which Hoseok loses a mom and gains two dads and four brothers.)

This has to be my favourite namjin story I’ve read until now. I loved their characters and how they are not only a great couple but also the best team. They both care so much for each other and their children. All the children in this story have a special place in my heart: shy Hoseok, anxious Yoongi, loving but sometimes not gentle Jimin, epileptic and dramatic Taehyung and the cutest baby ever (I want to hug him and pinch his cheeks in every scene) Jungkook. This fic shows the hardships of taking care of children that aren’t yours and have many problems but also how that makes you love, care and worry about them even more. I loved this one too much.

1.2. Big Kids, Young Adults (work in progress)

“Jungkook had been so sweet growing up. He had the cutest little bunny smile, and he used to like snuggling something as he walked around, like his Elmo plushie or his teddy bear. He had been so cute.

And now he was so grumpy.”

(In which Jungkook forgets his place at home, and the rest of his family does their best to support him and each other.)

Sequel to Welcome Home. The kids have grown up and are teenagers now. It depicts the struggles that normal teenagers go through, but they have extra luggage that they are carrying from their childhood traumas and illnesses. I love how much Namjoon and Seokjin try to communicate with them and try their hardest with all of them even when sometimes they make mistakes. They are such loving parents and my heart broke so many times when reading especially with Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook. A scene that I won’t forget is when Jungkook lashes out at Seokjin in the car on their way to the psychologist, I seriously teared up because it was too real. Can’t wait to read the following chapters.

1.3. I Have You

There wasn’t an untouched piece of skin left on Jimin that Jin could see. There was blood matted in his hair and bruises webbing across his face. Maybe he was better off under his clothes, but something about Jimin’s bitten hands told him otherwise. His chest constricted.

“Up,” Jimin repeated, his soft forehead wrinkling in confusion.

Seokjin shook himself out of it. “Yeah, honey, come here,” he said, his throat closing up. The words were barely a squeak.

Jimin’s first night at Seokjin and Namjoon’s house.

1.4. Something to Do and Someone to Love

“Watching Seokjin take such good care of their son always made Namjoon feel like the luckiest man alive. He had such great kids and such a great husband.

One thing was for certain: Seokjin had made him promise to not let the kids spend more than ten dollars each on him, but he deserved way more than that. Namjoon was going to have to raise the budget just a little bit.”

In which, Seokjin wants his kids to have a perfect Christmas, Namjoon wants Seokjin to have a perfect Christmas, and this one is more about the dads.

The family celebrating Christmas. For some of them it’s their first Christmas and it’s the sweetest. Jungkookie in this one made me want to hug him so much, my heart melted.

1.5. Puffy Eyes and a Pink Nose

Seokjin came into the living room, wrapping his robe a little tighter against his body. “Look who’s asleep,” Seokjin said. His voice was soft in the wee hours of the morning.

“And look who’s not,” Namjoon replied as Seokjin joined him on the couch, curling into his side. “Why don’t you go back to bed, babe?”

“Nah. Wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun.“

(In which Jungkook wreaks havoc during his first few days at Seokjin and Namjoon’s house, but it’s not his fault at all.)

Jungkook suffering from Neonatal Abstinence Syndrom and Seokjin and Namjoon doing their best even when it is too much to handle, especially when they have to watch their baby suffering and being unable to do something about it.

1.6. Lucky to Have Someone Like You

“Hey,” Namjoon said, pressing a kiss to Taehyung’s cheek. His nose flattened against Taehyung’s temple. “No crying. You’re okay. We’re going to eat dinner.”

(In which Seokjin, Jimin, and Namjoon all take care of Taehyung post-seizure.)

I have developed such an attachment to epileptic!Taehyung you don’t even understand.

1.7. Sunscreen and Sunshine

“Splish splash,” Jungkook said, smushed up against the edge of his playpen. Seokjin detangled himself from Jimin and Taehyung and freed Jungkook from the fence encircling him. The sand engulfed his tiny feet when Seokjin put him down.

“Do you wanna come walking with us, Jungkookie?” Seokjin asked.

“Splish splash with Chim Chim,” Jungkook said seriously, his cheeks flushed from the hot sun. Seokjin held his hand.

“Okay, let’s go splish splash,” he agreed, looking to see if Namjoon was ready to go. He had Taehyung clinging to his back and Hoseok’s hand in his.

“Ready?” Namjoon asked.

Seokjin squeezed Jungkook’s hand. “Ready.”

(In which Namjoon and Seokjin take the boys to the beach.)

Namjoon and Seokjin go to the beach with their five little kids which means laughter, tears, fears, excitement and every emotion you can think of. This was too cute, especially Jungkook’s obsession with crabs.

1.8. Vulnerable

“Jin?” Namjoon piped up, his voice small in the silence that had washed over them. Seokjin grunted in acknowledgement. “Do you ever… Do you ever…” Namjoon played with the hem of his sheets. “Do you ever think about what it’ll be like to bury Taehyung?”

Seokjin’s book fell closed.

(In which Namjoon is terrified for his newest foster son, and rightfully so.)

Namjoon’s special connection with Taehyung and his inability to stop worrying about him. It broke my heart when he talks about his fears to Seokjin.

* my favourite stories

#yoonmin #yoonmin fic rec #ao3 #namjin #vhope #ym #mr

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winsister91 · 7 years

Text

Crash Trickster Racing

Summary: The angelic master of mischief interrupts a game night that’s getting steamy…

Characters: Dean x Reader, Gabriel

Word Count: 1649

Warning: Language, implied smut, fluff? Is this what is known as crack? IDK

A/N: I can join in my own challenge right? lolol Out of all the things I’ve written, I think this takes the crown as the dumbest. Have I seriously just done a kinda sorta SPN CTR crossover? I should be shot. Pretty niche market here I guess, apologies to all you youngsters/non-gamers who probably have no idea what Crash Team Racing is.

My Masterlist!

~ Dean and forever tags are open! ~

Dean taglist predominantly from @spnfanficpond . Let me know if want to be added/removed!

“Dean Winchester,” you laugh in triumph, “You suck!”

You throw the Playstation controller to the floor, doing a ridiculous victory dance. The result now was 12-1, in your favour. The only reason he won that one race in Crash Team Racing was because he started it without you while you went to grab a drink.

“You are inhumanely good at this stupid game,” Dean sulks, throwing his own controller down and folding his arms, “If it was a real race, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Whatever,” you shrug, sticking your tongue out and shaking your butt in a tease as you turn, “Victory beer!”

You skip to the kitchen, grinning like a child. As you go to open the fridge, Dean’s hand forces it closed again. He swiftly takes you in his arms, picking you up onto the counter and biting down your neck. You giggle as tingles wash over you, throwing your head back to grant him access.

“Distract me all you want,” you gasp as he moves around to the other side of your neck, “You still suck at Crash.”

“Maybe,” he growls, taking you to a higher place with a deep kiss on your collarbone, “But I know what I am good at.”

“Thank god you do,” you exhale before his lips forcefully clash into yours, instantly allowing his hungry tongue to do battle with your own.

He lifts you onto his hips, you wrap your legs around him and the tongue battle continues. You rake your hands through his hair, your core fluttering with excitement when those beautiful olive eyes of his pierce lustfully into yours. He carries you through the room and into the corridor leading to his bedroom. You giggle, pulling your t-shirt up and over your head on the way. He hums at the sight of you, kicking his door open and bringing you inside.

“What the fuck?” he stops and freezes. The sounds of numerous engines rumbling come to your ears and confused isn’t even the word. You look around, this was most definitely not Dean’s room. It was…outside? Pixelated?

“Okaay?” you jump down from his hips, looking around. You’re at the start line of a race track in a blocky cartoon world? It looks like the Coco Park track…it is Coco Park. Perfect in every detail. There’s a flash of white light and suddenly you’re in a racing kart. You immediately try to pull yourself out, but some invisible force is holding you there.

“Dean what’s going on!?” your shriek.

Dean is in the kart next to you, also struggling for freedom, he curses under his breath. “God dammit Gabriel where are you!?” he shouts viciously.

“Oh no…” you groan, rolling your eyes.

“Now is that any way to greet a buddy?” that familiar chirpy voice comes. Gabriel melts into view, laying on the flat rectangular texture of grass at the side of the road, “I’ve always thought you two were such a cute couple, but man it gets monotonous. A playful argument, sex, self-deprecation, sex, get drunk, sex. The result is always the same!”

You and Dean share a worried glance.

“You’ve been watching us?” Dean shakes his head in disbelief.

“Ew!” you shout.

“Who needs soap opera’s when the Winchesters exist? But its rapidly declining into a porno” he chuckles, snapping his fingers and appearing in a third kart between you both, “Now come on, this is fun! She says he sucks at Crash, he says he could win a real race, let’s combine the two!” “Could I have some dignity please first!?” you cross your arms, remembering you are topless, only a bra and pants on show.

The angel tuts and with a wave of his hand, your t-shirt appears back on you, “It’s game time,” he grins eagerly.

The unforgettable sound of the air horn count down echoes in the air, you can see the in game lights hovering above you. You get your game face on, thinking, Fine! Whatever! I’m gonna kick your asses.

The last siren blares and your foot is pressed firmly down on the gas pedal. The kart shoots forward, much faster than you expected. You squeal in terror as you crash into one of the item crates, the blocky shards of wood flying over you. This moment makes you realise the game’s hud is in your eyesight, like it’s imprinted on your iris. You see your lap time ticking away in the top corner of your sight, and a mini map of the track in a bottom corner. This is insane, and awesome. A box in the top centre of your vision is flicking through pictures of the in-game weapons, stopping on the missile. You grin mischievously before worry hits you. You can’t use a freaking missile! You’ll kill them!

While your mind had wandered, you realise you’re making a bee line for a red bottle, left on the track by Gabriel. You jerk on the wheel hard to try and avoid it, but it’s too late. You crash into it, sending the kart into a spin and you scream hysterically. Your vision becomes blurry and your car a stuttering slow mess as it clumsily bobs along with a black rain cloud following and raining on to you.

“Shit!” you shout in frustration, bashing at the gas pedal, but it’s fruitless while the bottle’s effect is in play.

“Oh yea, feel free to use the weapons!” Gabriel’s voice echoes omnipotently in the air, “They’ll not really hurt you!”

The cloud vanishes and you shoot forward again. Now you’re determined.

You can hear Dean laughing and clearly enjoying the ride, turning back to you and mocking while you try to catch up. You ignore him, focusing on the damned archangel further ahead. You spot a huge red button in the middle of the steering wheel, the angel in your line of sight and you slam it. The missile blasts out of the front of your kart and your grin returns. You watch in glee as it soars away into the distance. Then your face drops as the explosive turns and hones in on Dean.

“Uh oh,” you mumble, remembering these things are designed to aim at the person directly in front of you in the standings.

The rocket explodes into Dean’s car sending him flying in the air in a cartoonish fashion. You hear him cursing you as you speed past.

“Bitch!!!!”

“Sorry not sorry!” you squeak sheepishly.

With Dean now falling far behind, it’s a full on battle for first place between you and Gabriel. Damn, he’s good. You question as to whether he’s tweaked things, being in control over this world he’s created after all. His car is way faster than yours. You can barely keep up using all the tricks in the book, grinding around corners and hitting your boost in a specific timing. Hiding TNT boxes behind the item crates for when another lap comes around. You fire numerous cannons at him, but he frequently swerves away or conveniently has a shield every time one does hit.

“Oh come on!!!” you scream, gamer rage coursing through you as he dodges another one of your traps, “This is bullshit!!!”

You hear another familiar noise and you sit wide eyed. Oh no. It’s an electrical noise, sounding like waves, you turn and see what you dread. A huge intimidating blue ball of electricity flying through the air, its aim to hit everyone in its path. You can see Dean with an evil grin behind it, clearly the culprit as it’s an item only granted to those in last place. There’s no outrunning it, you have no shield in your possession. You brace yourself.

You squeal as it passes over you and your car is flung into the air. Holding on for dear life, you breathe a sigh of relief after spinning in the air and finally landing back on the ground, dazed. Gabriel falls victim to it too, a wail coming from his kart in front of you.

You can hear Dean laughing as he speeds past you both, crossing the finish line and becoming enveloped in a flood of confetti.

“Well done you,” you grumble as you and Gabriel cross the line with glum faces. You were so pissed at coming last.

“I think it’s safe to say I am the ultimate champ at this now?” Dean pokes his tongue out, folding his arms smugly.

“Bite me,” you hiss, “You got lucky with the stupid OP weapon.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, blowing you a kiss in a mock fashion which makes you wanna go over there and part kill him, part ravage him.

“Oh, guys come on now!” Gabriel raises his hand in disbelief, “The sexual tension in the air is just…so obvious plot wise!”

“The winner of your god damn race…” Dean starts calmly before ordering, “says, put us back in our god damn room right now!”

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Fine, this isn’t the last you’ll hear from me,” with a snap of his fingers, you’re back at the bunker, sat on the floor of the bedroom. Gabriel is nowhere in sight.

“Rematch!” you squeal, jumping to your feet and marching for the door.

“Now just wait,” Dean chuckles, stepping in front of you and pulling you into a tight embrace, “…where were we first?”

In a moment of de ja vu, you find yourself being hoisted back onto Dean’s hips, violently pulling off your t-shirt.

“Really?” Gabriel groans, sat in a place unknown watching a huge TV screen where he watches people’s lives for entertainment, “There’s more sex here than in Game of Thrones…” He tuts, changing the channel with a fistful of popcorn.

Tags! @aprofoundbondwithdean @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @salvachester @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @plaidstiel-wormstache @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @inmysparetime0 @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @4401lnc @sofreddie @sis-tafics @chelsea072498 @arcturuz

#sammykins 100 followers trickster challenge #supernatural #fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean x reader #trickster #gabriel #dean fluff #dean crack #implied smut #im so sorry i wrote this trash

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acertaincritic · 5 years

Text

Oh. Fuck. Can I have a word or two with my brain?

Like look, there’s the thing - when I sleep, I want to fucking rest. Like. Darkness’s fine, half-lucid dreams are fine, some strange fanfic-like stories with my characters or even just characters from stories that I’ve read/watched recently, as long as they are light-hearted and generally in character, are even better than fine.

You know what’s not fine? Fucking grimdark is not fine. Fucking adult themes are not fine, and I don’t mean sex, I mean adult themes like growing old and dying, because that’s literally what the whole story was about.

Yes, it was a story, not a dream. I’ll tell you why.

The beginning was blurry, or shall I say the dreams don’t really have beginnings, you just feel like you’ve always been there in that setting. That’s super convenient because starting a book is hard, but let’s not digress.

So I was there, in a crypt, and so were three of my real-life friends. I don’t know why their appeared, usually I dream of fictional characters, and I’m generally bad at remembering and recognizing faces (there’s a mental condition like that, and I suspect I might have it). But this time they were there, in the grim dark crypt, and I was there too, but nobody was noticing me. This was also strange, because I usually dream 3rd person limited, so I’m like a camera that hangs above a character’s right shoulder and switches perspective from time to time. This time, it wasn’t like that - this time I felt I was there in a flesh, even if unnoticed, though the 3rd person limited thing did work momentarily, so I could fucking see myself. Like. With my hair down, in the stupid stark blue sweater that I usually only wear at home because it doesn’t look good. In case you wondered, here it is:

Sorry for the bad light, it’s already dark on this side of the planet (I hate winter, ehh).

Beside my friends and my ghost-like self, there was one more person in the dark-but-you-can-see-everything crypt - a ghoul. He looked like a middle-aged, sturdy man, except he had hardly any hair (the ones he had were thin, long and white), his skin was beyond pale, and his teeth and jaws were green-yellow and too pronounced (too long teeth, too often he kept his mouth open so one could see the dark spots on the tops of them etc.). Remember the no-face rule? Well, it didn’t apply to him either, his face was round and his eyes small and light blue, though I’ll damned to remember if this is the face of some Hollywood actor or a random stranger I passed by on a street (since apparently our brains can’t make up their own faces in our dreams), only with somewhat modified features.

Since the beginning was blurry (khe, khe, nonexistent) I wasn’t sure how my friends got there. But they were there, three young women, and the ghoul locked them down and threatened, and they thought they wouldn’t make it out alive. There wasn’t much details to it - it was more like a time-skip, where I knew it happened, but it wasn’t really shown (and seriously, thank my brain at least for that mercy). But at some point the ghoul decided that actually, he isn’t torturing my friends, he’s teaching them to become immortals like him. Even though there were thousands of bones - pieces of skulls, mostly - around, so you couldn’t take a step without one cracking under your feet, but nah. He’s teaching (turning?) them to be an immortal ghoul like him.

So he made them drink some strange water from the crypt. He burned their faces so that they would later heal the burns by passing their hands over it, and not even scars remained. One of them had lost her eyes, since he burned them out because she tried to run and almost succeeded (it had to have happened in the skipped part, but I knew). So now he taught her to grew them back and she could see again. And generally, pain being pain, but my friends seemed to warm up to the guy, since you know. Immortality.

It was when I decided to reveal myself. As in, appear before them, so suddenly all four could see me. They freaked out at first, since what the hell, am I a ghost, and the ghoul was like, “Nah, there are no ghosts, she’s gotta be mortal.” But generally my friends were happy to see me and the ghoul didn’t attack me, though he looked less than pleased, and I had an opportunity to talk.

So I was like, immortality? Endless wound regeneration without any scars? Wow, that’s wonderful! It’s a little strange that the ghoul looks like he looks, I said, but he was like, you stop caring after a few hundred years, and besides, some things went wrong with me, it doesn’t have to be the same for my friends.

So I was like, well, that’s super cool then, and besides, even if they were to look less pretty, who cares if they can be immortal? And I turned to my friends and I said that once they do fully become ghouls (they were kinda midway), they should certainly go out and teach (turn?) other people too, because it’s terrible that so many people die every minute, and even if they couldn’t save the entire 8 billion (I’m not sure if the world’s population is 8 billion already, but it was the number I said), then even if they only teach a few, if those few also started teaching, the number of ghoul teachers would grow exponentially, so they should turn the entire world in a relatively short time. I also added that they could wait for people to become adult before turning them and letting those who want to have kids have kids, if that’s even a problem, because I wasn’t sure if ghouls can’t have children who would be like, normal human children.

And my friends started to agree, because well, why not, what else are they going to do once they are immortal, and besides, they have other friends and family, they would like to keep at least them. However, as I talked, the ghoul grew more and more irritable, he was like, frowning and glaring at me, and when I finished he snapped that they can’t do it, they can’t turn the entire world, that’s a silly idea. That they can teach me, if they want, since I’m their friend, but they can’t go out in the open, not any more.

I was like, why? If that’s so wonderful, why doesn’t he want more people to become ghouls? It wasn’t like the water was exclusive to the crypt (apparently it was made from ordinary water + some kind of transparent substance that the ghoul could secrete from his fingers at will, and I knew it because reasons). He snarled that I only just wanted to be immortal myself, and that’s fine, he already said that they can teach me, but don’t bring the entire world into it, they aren’t heroes.

And shoot me, I did want to be immortal (who wouldn’t?) but I said to him that it doesn’t matter if I’m going to become a ghoul or not, because this all is going to end in a couple of hours (apparently dreams only last minutes rl, but I said hours, and it sure felt as if a long time had passed already), and it’s not like the immortality will transfer back, but for all the people from their world it could work, so why is he so selfish that he doesn’t want to do a bit more work to save them?

He lunged me at that and grabbed my throat, and then the 3rd person narrator thingy kicked back in, so good news, I didn’t feel the ghoul choking me, but bad news, I could see him doing it. The same me in the same stupid sweater, which was super bright in the generally grim and gray crypt (my friends all three wore dark clothes for some reason). The ghoul held me up so my legs didn’t touch the floor, and I was clawing at his hands. Again, I didn’t feel it, but when I spoke, the me being choked also spoke, and I literally said, “I’m not even a character from this book”.

I bailed out at that moment, which looked like, my form grew transparent and kinda larger, and then vanished altogether, and I woke up sitting somewhere dark. To be clear I did not wake up for real, I was still dreaming, and I couldn’t even see my surroundings. One thing I knew, I had to go back, like fuck was I going to leave my friends with that dude (yeah, I knew that it was a dream/story, but somehow I assumed my friends are really there, or at least versions of them).

So I dived back in, which was super bizarre, because I saw myself from an outside perspective (with the stupid sweater, ghh) kinda walking out from the wall and becoming less and less transparent until I was material and seeing things from my own eyes again. My friends were alone in the crypt, and when I asked them what happened, they said that Mr. Ghoul stormed out as soon as I vanished last time, and they didn’t see him since, but apparently he was visiting some graves (no idea how they knew that if they didn’t see him, but I didn’t question). So a few days passed in-story while I was out for maybe a minute.

The ghoul soon returned, and he went into his room and I followed him. There was a picture on a shelf with some female figure drawn as if by a child (not a terrible drawing, but without any details, with green earth, blue sky and the woman being like a black figure in a dress). Looking at it, the ghoul broke into a long rant that I was right, that it should only be him and no one else, that he was selfish teaching my three friends in the first place, and that he will stop, because it’s not too late for them yet as it is too late for him. I was like, super confused because that was the opposite of what I had said, but at the same time it made sense that this immortality would have some terrible price, so I was like, OK, I’ll help him stop it, what should I do? He said I had to go fetch something (it wasn’t specified what or I forget), and that I had to do it fast.

I went out from his room after he finished, decided to act fast, but I stumbled upon two of my three friends. I told them what I was about to do, and they said that it’s fine with them and that they felt it can’t be so good, but that the third of them - the same one that had got her eyes burned out for attempting to run away at the beginning - was not OK, she apparently panicked and wanted to become immortal regardless of anything else and left, and “You know how she is”. I was like, right, if it’s her, then talking her into changing her mind once she’s set on something is very difficult and there’s no time, we’ll have to put her before the deed done, even if she will hate me for it.

So I headed for the stairs that led out of the crypt, and it turned out the third of my friends was up there, and she was trying to block the entrance so I couldn’t leave, tossing down stones and such. However, since I wasn’t ‘a character from the book’, I could simply pass by them somehow, not sure if I was avoiding or literally passing through like a ghost. At any rate, she couldn’t stop me, and I was out on the parking lot. I had to hurry, but there was my mother’s car standing there for some reason, and I apparently had the keys, or at least I could drive it. The third of my friends again tried to stop me by blocking the car’s way, and this time I had to be more careful since the car was ‘real’, but I managed to steer around her and soon I was pulling up by a hospital.

There was some skipping there, as I suddenly was back before the crypt with the McGuffin (I’m still not sure what it was, but I was sure that I had all I needed), and one of my friends came out alarmed, saying that the third friend (sorry, I’m not going to use their names) went crazy and that she’s trying to bury the place so that the ghoul has to teach her or else she’ll die. And she was nearly done, pulling at some wooden beam, so it came down to talking her out of it.

So the other friend begged her not to do it, but she didn’t care, she said the two of them can go, but she would stay. So it was my turn, and I told her that the price for being a ghoul is that when you finally die, you die for good, there’s no soul left after you. I told her that she might not want to believe it because she’s not a Christian, but that’s what Mr. Ghoul told me (when? dunno), and that I wouldn’t lie to her (I really wasn’t lying, I just don’t know how I knew it, but well, plot holes). So she was like, so what, who cares about their soul if they can eternally live on earth.

I told her that she can’t, that even if she regenerates, the Sun will eventually explode and swallow the Earth, and even if the humans were to make colonies in space before that, then the universe will spread so far and it’ll pull at the atoms so that it’ll literally rip the all matter apart, and that she surely cannot survive. That even if not in one hundred years, and not even in one billion years, in the end, she would die. Then she cried that I don’t understand because I’m not even from there and that I’ll live on even after she dies (? that’s what she said, don’t ask me), and I said that it’s not true, that I’m growing old too, and it’s even worse for me, because I do want to have kids so my biological clock is ticking already even though I have no prospects on finding anyone. I said that birth, growing up, maturation are all parts of life, true, but does she know what else is a part of life? Adulthood, old age, and death, and that everybody goes through it, there’s no choice, and we’re all in this together, so why would she want to bury herself alone like that guy? And she was wavering and going to reach out, I could sense it.

Then my alarm clock went off. And at first I was shook, and then I was so, so fucking angry. Because first, my brain has no right to do such things to my friends, and second, this is not what I want to see when I’m resting. Like. Fuck it.

So yeah, as you see, I could very well turn this into a pretty coherent story. Write it properly, fill in the skips and the plot holes, and maybe it wouldn’t be a book, but something like a 20k-word-long tale? It took me two hours to write this all down and dreams really last only a few minutes rl, and I have no words left to say now beyond well, again. Fuck it.

#personal #stuff

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