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sideofcalimary · 1 year

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[Domino side story] Smart, Social, and Shoto

Hitoshi, Ochako, and Shoto all watch as Izuku shifts his way towards one of the brightly colored houses in the little neighborhood. The three following Izuku's movements like hawks of varying interest

Hitoshi: I can't believe you pulled it off

Shoto: She pulled ON his clothes

Ochako: Don't underestimate the female gaze. Midoriya-Kun is already cute on his own, he just needed to dress to show off his assets

Shoto: is that why you made him wear skinny jeans?

Hitoshi: as-SET-

Ochako: No he's right

Hitoshi whips his head towards her: What?

Ochako: what? Midoriya-kun has a decently nice butt! Look!

Hitoshi: I'm not gonna look at my friend's ass

Shoto: I will

Shoto doesn't hesitate to stick his head out the back window and watch Izuku approach the house

Hitoshi: Todo that's fucking weird

Shoto: what's weird is Bakugo suddenly calling Izuku to tell him they're going to jam at Jiro-San's house instead

Ochako: sounds like a ret con from an author who forgot a plot point

Hitoshi: You two have been hanging out too much.. and get your head back in the car!

Shoto does: You can hang out with us too

Hitoshi: and be subjected to Chako and your horrible movie decisions. I'd rather get run over by a unicycle

Shoto: That's a sad way to die

Ochako: You're being dramatic

Hitoshi: Says the girl who cried watching a fictional fish losing his disabled son

Ochako: YOU CRIED DURING UP

Hitoshi: BECAUSE I'M NOT A HEARTLESS MONSTER

Shoto: I CRIED WHEN MY MOM POURED BOILING WATER ON MY FACE

both Hitoshi and Ochako turn to Shoto in the back

Ochako: well, that was a cold dump of water

Shoto: It was boiling hot-

Hitoshi: You need a shoulder to cry on and Izuku ain't here

Shoto: Oh then I should-

Shoto attempts to leave the car only for Ochako to quickly yank him back: NO! no no no. You just sit here and uh

Hitoshi: Not talk about your childhood trauma like it's a casual conversation starter

Ochako: be nice

Hitoshi: you first

Ochako shoves him lightly then smiles at Shoto: How about we go get something to eat? Midoriya-kun said he would take a bus home so we're free to just hang out together

Hitoshi: I'd rather just drop you both off at the nearest 7-11 and go home. I'm exhausted

Ochako: you've literally done nothing but complain today

Hitoshi: being this charming is hard work

Shoto: You should have a lot of energy then

Ochako highfives him

Hitoshi: ... I can't even be mad at that

Ochako: I taught him well

Shoto: Did I slay?

Ochako: You slaughtered

The trio, after leaving Izuku to do his A plot, drove down town for their own little B plot adventure

At least that's how Shoto's been calling it

Hitoshi: I can hear your internal monologue

Ochako: and here I thought Midoriya-kun's mumbling was bad

Shoto: This is why we're side characters

Ochako: We're not! I get Bakugo calls everyone an extra but it doesn't mean we are

Hitoshi: If anything, Shoto's the comic relief

Ochako: and what does that make you?

Hitoshi: the snarky side character that everyone loves but only appears to make fun of the main character

Ochako: and I'm..?

Shoto: the love interest

Ochako sputters and screams as Hitoshi accident swirves the car. He gets it back under control and slows down

Shoto ends up laying on his back on the floor of the car, legs up against the door while Ochako clutches at her seatbelt for dear life

Ochako: SHISO!

Hitoshi: HE CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD!

Shoto: you asked for my opinion

Hitoshi: your opinion is trash

Ochako: Oh what? So I'm not good enough to be a love interest

Hitoshi: I didn't fucking say that! But that would mean you're Mido's love interest and we all know he's ass over tits in love with a ticking time bomb

Shoto: I never said she was Izuku's love interest. I just said she was one

Ochako: to who?

Shoto climbs back onto his seat: To Spiderman

Hitoshi hits the brakes, sending Shoto flying forward and falling off his seat again

Shoto: you're a horrible driver

Hitoshi: suffer

Ochako quickly helps Shoto up and glares at Hitoshi who glares back

Ochako: I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that, Todo

Hitoshi: I'd rather stay ignorant

Shoto sits up again and rubs his head: Well, you've interacted with him before. You told us about how you blackmailed-

Ochako: bargained

Shoto: and threatened-

Ochako: negotiated

Shoto: Spiderman into becoming your model. And you two have talked and you've been open about how you find him attractive

Ochako: no need to call me out on that

Hitoshi: how does THAT make her a love interest? If anything she's an antagonist

Ochako: RUDE

Shoto: well, it's the first arc of their relationship. You told me he visits you every now and then even after you gave him the photo-

Hitoshi looks at Ochako: he WHAT

Shoto: -so there's room for a relationship to grow from it the more you two get to know one another

Ochako waves her hands: Don't be ridiculous. Without context you make it sound like he's already fallen in love with me or something

Hitoshi: has he?

Ochako: No! He comes over because- well I can't tell you!

Hitoshi: oh ho ho and why the FUCK not?

Ochako huffs: it's none of your business

Hitoshi: I beg to differ, Mochi. A vigilante hero is coming into your apartment to visit? For a reason you can't tell us?! Oh well it sounds to me that you two are having more than just a Photoshoot

Ochako growls: Are you calling me a-

Shoto: we're here

The two look out and see the ice cream shop Hitoshi had coincidentally stopped at when they started yelling. They both turn to each other then at Shoto who seemed very unaffected by the situation

Shoto: Are we gonna get ice cream or a divorce?

The conversation stopped there. Both Hitoshi and Ochako sat on either side of Shoto in a booth

The three ordered their ice cream in silence, trading glances and unspoken words of "We'll talk about it later"

All the while Shoto sits between the chaos

Unaware of what he had done

Shoto: You two sound like my parents before the divorce

Ochako: Keep eating your ice cream

Hitoshi: not the time, Todo

Shoto: it's like I'm 7 again

#BkdkSpiderPool #bkdk #mha bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x izuku #midoriya izuku #deku #kacchadeku #kachan #spiderpoolau #fanfic #writting #story #bkdk fanfic

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 9 months

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5, 10, 17, 25, 27, and 29 for that ask game?

hope you don't mind me asking multiple just super curious

Ooh so many (gremlin grin)

I already answered 5 Here!

10. Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Oh I entirely expected like NO ONE to like Faeries in the Forest I was so surprised when people kept asking for it lmfao

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

Very recently, a lot of stuff about hypermobility, joint/chronic pain and related disabilities - for a fic I haven't talked about before yet :))

I've also already answered 25 here!

27. Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

I was very worried about posting (Vi)vianne Marie Zephyr - almost entirely because I was terrified I'd have captured the experience of being a trans person badly and offend/hurt people -w-

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

I've already answered this one too (here) but I'm gracious and benevolent enough to give another snippit from a different fic :)

This is a long ass snippit but I love it so who cares

Maybe I will post this fic, one day, if I can ever finish it.

“...Virge? That you?” Ah, great, it was Roman, he sounded exhausted.

“...Yeah,” Virgil muttered as he grabbed a mug from the cupboard, no point trying to be fast now, he’d already been spotted. Unfortunately as he put the mug down he noticed from the corner of his eye the pattern on his sweater. It was white, mostly, with red and gold accents and a large simplistic crown in the middle. Of course it had to be one of Roman’s, Virgil thought as he went red. He should’ve guessed, Roman was about the same height as him, though he had broader shoulders, of course his sweaters were way too big on Virgil.

“What uh- what’re you wearing there?” Roman asked slowly, as if he was worried about getting punched, which was completely valid because Virgil really really considered it. Ultimately he was too tired for actual violence. He wasn’t, in fact, too tired for threatening it, though.

“Princey if you question me before I’ve had at least four hours of sleep and or a cup of coffee I will skin you and use you as a doormat,” Virgil said mildly as he poured the boiling water over his teabag, fully prepared to splash the hot water in Roman’s direction if he dared to say something else about the sweater.

“Woahkay,” Roman said, leaning back in his chair, “Was just gonna say that you look cute in my sweater,”

“Fuck you,” Virgil practically growled.

“Ok ok!” Roman said, raising his hands in surrender, though Virgil was fairly sure he wasn’t about to stop, “Just wanted to let you know.”

<3 thanks for the asks!!!

#rowan rambles #fanfic #ask game

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yikesharringrove · 2 years

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Last episode!!

Okay! This episode had lots of ups and downs. LOTS of joe and downs.

The Steve/Nancy bullshit can literally eat shit I hate it I HATE IT

Once again the tension is constantly being ramped up, especially with the Russian team and the upside down team.

I didn’t even notice the California team wasn’t in this ep bc that’s how little I care.

There are a bunch of scenes I’ve seen as gifs that I didn’t see? Are those from teasers? Like Eddie playing his guitar in the UD?? I assume that’s to help Nancy out but I have NO idea.

Anyway this one had some good moments of return to what st used to be especially with Lucas and Dustin, but the last 20-30 minutes of pure exposition and flashbacks really sucked the life out of me. Not too sure how I feel about this ep overall

Incoherent thots:

The way Steve is literally being EATEN ALIVE by those things jesus christ. We joke abt him getting fucked up every season but this is by far the worst one. He’s alone! And so scared! And he doesn’t know his friends are coming!

That pov shot got me fucked up

Eddie yelling “kill it” while Nancy and Robin do all the work. I wanna be him when I grow up

NOT STEVE BITING THAT THING he so has rabies now.

Okay but the way he flung it against the ground by the tail 👀👀👀 okay. Aight.

Bro he TORE IT IN HALF

Me watching this scene five times:

“Well they took about a pound of flesh, but other than that. Yeah never better” love how ducked up he sounds. Also Eddie in background like jEsUs H cHrIsT

ROBIN WITH THE RABIES lmao were the same

Ooop all of them getting behind Steve

These bitches are like the Procompsognathus in Jurassic park

Oh shit that’s a little person barbecue these fuckers are CRAZY

“Promise me you won’t kill her” OBVIOUSLY this guy doesn’t give a fuck about you OR el

Do you think brenner makes the other people at the lab call him papa?

SAM OWENS FINALLY ADMITTING THAT EL IS A FRIGHTENED, TRAUMATIZED, LITTLE GIRL

I just fucking can’t with brenner he’s literally disgusting and I wish he was GONE

“This place is not a prison” THEN WHY DO YOU KEEP SEDATING HER WHEN SHE TRIES TO LEAVE

“You chose to trust me once” when? That time you kidnapped her from her mother and then tortured her mother so viscously that she was left permanently disabled? Is that when el chose to trust you?

I keep seeing in tiktok people who think number 1 is hot and bro. He’s so awful looking to me I can’t believe it

Dustin being an awful fucking liar are you kidding

“That psycho fREAK killer? Uh, no.” Dustin for president

Ted Wheeler coming in clutch suggesting the kids that ARENT HIS go to jail lmao Mrs. Sinclair looked like he was talkin out of his ass

I happen to think that Eddie’s hair should be getting bigger and more frizzy each time he’s shown. That lake water does not help with the frizz

STEVE

“I’m fine. I’m fine” DUDE YOU ARE MISSING CHUBKS OF YOUR SIDES

Robin rattling off the symptoms of rabies I love her. She really thinks her best friend is dying she’s freaking out amazing

Nancy ripping up her skirt to bandage him welcome to Rocky horror

What’s with the squelching sounds when she wrapped it around him?? Bro ew

Please know that when Steve and Nancy looked all lovey dovey at each other I booed super loud I HATE IT HERE

“Yeah you almost shot me with that one” “you almost deserved it” rip to season 1 Steve who definitely pissed himself when Nancy put that gun in his face

EDDIE STOP “fer yer modesty, dude”

Okay did everyone need to spoon up when that earthquake happened???? I fucking hate it stop it with the Steve/Nancy shit I’m on my knees I’m BEGGING

Hopper figuring out how to make a Molotov cocktail in prison he’s amazing he’s showstopping he’s incredible

“Papa, I bet that old American did most of the monster slaying” vibes

Jesus, hopper wanting el to be growing and changing and learning and meanwhile el is underground and being re-traumatized by brenner

Murray looking like he’s shitting himself in that van while lying to the guards he’s amazing

Seeing all this shit, how much brenner spoke with all the kids individually, it kinda doesn’t make sense to me why el could hardly speak or knew a lot when she got out. Like reading and writing sure, those are learned, but you learn to talk by being talked to and by talking so. Idk if this makes sense it just makes me feel a little odd. Plus the older kids have a big vocabulary so ??? What is the truth

COLLAR HIM WHAT

Good. Now we get to see the actual fucking torture DUDE BRENNER SUCKS SO HARD WHY ARE THEY TRYING TO MAKE HIM BETTER

Jesus christ what the fuck is going on

Eddie looking so distressed when Steve doesn’t get the ozzy reference I’ve seen it in so many gifs it’s incredible

(Also Steve was not engaging bc he knows ozzy and he knows that moment billy made him watch it about a thousand times on mtv but now that he’s gone, it’s a really painful memory)

YES EDDIE TELLING STEVE HOW MUCH DUSTIN LOVES HIM IM CRYING MERLIN AND I WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT THIS

EDDIE SAYING HE WAS JEALOUS this scene fucks so hard omg

“I was too ashamed to be the only one left behind” EDDIE

EDDIE DO NOT TELL STEVE TO GET HER BACK STOP STOP STOP DO NOT FUCKING ENDORSE THIS UNHOLY UNION

Bro eddie needs to shut up fr Steve and Nancy should NOT get back together and I have so many fucking thoughts about it that it would be it’s own post entirely

Okay but I really hope they do some shit with the lights and Dustin and Lucas realize the gang is in that house that would FUCK

Dustin’s look when Erica says she’ll say what was under Lucas’s bed amazing

ERICA DIDNT KNOW THIS SHIT AFTER THE MALL??? Nobody filled her in????

Vecna opened it up obv

Okay but this Dustin and Lucas scene of them riffing off each other and figuring it out is so so good this is what I missed from stranger things this is what I loves about seasons 1 and 2

YES I SEE THAT LIGHT FLICKERING THATS YOU UPSIDE DOWNERS

STEVE IS THE ONE THATS GONNA FIGURE OUT HOW TO TALK TO DUSTIN AND LUCAS

Okay but the upside down being stuck in time of three years ago kind of fucks

Meanwhile Steve’s just screaming downstairs

“Maybe he really does have rabies” VIBES

I’m???? The magic around the lights is big time cheesey tbh

“Does anyone know Morse code?”

“Does sos count? Is that-is that good?” WHAT DO YOU THINK, DARLING????? Eddie is QUICKLY becoming a blorbo. (Except for that painful moment where he told Steve to get with Nancy but he wasn’t thinking right)

It’s not Vecna it’s your besties dw

I think they just should’ve had eddie touch the light the red magic shit looks really dumb to me

This shot in the Russian prison is BANANAS I’m freaking out

HOPPER HES THERE HES RIGHT THERE

Horse plinko

Not these MEAN MUGS the older kids have going on this is so funny to me

Why is this chess set so weird and ornate

Fucking brenner I just hate HATE him

I don’t trust brenner I don’t trust #1 I don’t trust anyone here

Lucas and Dustin fucking yeeting the lite brite and Erica giving her candy lmao

Eddie going “HI” and Steve like 🙄🫤🤨

Dustin: “We think we have a theory that can help with that”

Robin: “genius child”

“His tone, right” love LOVE him

“Honestly shouldn’t have gone with her first. She’s like, kinda mean” CALLAHAN

Callahan coming up the stairs going “oh little pigs, oh little pigs” like dude you’re the cop.

ERICA SLASHED THE TIRE FOR FUCKS SAKE SHES AMAZING

NOT THE TRANSITION FROM THE KIDS TO THE UPSIDE DOWN GANG

What song would save you from being vecna’d? I think mine would be crazy frog.

Is this really how she escaped??? I kinda wish that her escape was just always left a mystery tbh but this way is actually big time anticlimactic

Oh fuck the tracker in his neck made me SICK to look at

See in these flashbacks el has one hell of a vocabulary but we know that when she meets up with the boys she doesn’t know the word promise

HES MAKING A FLAMING SPEAR that’s so sexy aaaahahah

“The Americans are very tricky” in that super exaggerated American accent VIBES

Holy god the lighter being out of fuel

THE MOMENT THE DEMOGORGON FUCKING SPRINTS OUT OF THE DARKNESS I watched it three times at half speed so good

(Still wish this bitch was practical though)

This is the goriest scene in st so far and I wish it was MORE

“I gotta hand it to you commies. You’re committed” Murray’s karate is my favorite thing to come out of this season. He’s out here like billy zabka but not fucking painful

Not Joyce pressing all the fucking buttons queen shit

DUDE THE SPEAR THROW RIGHT JN ITS FUCKING FACE OH MY GOD

THEY DINT KNOW THAT JOYCE IS THERE OH SHIT this reunion is gonna make me cry with the slo mo

Okay but hopper at first not realizing what’s going on and then holding her back and smiling into the top of her head I’m freaking out

Okay but lowkey the look of (guys specifically) wearing long pants that aren’t fitted around the ankle and no shoes is one of my least favorite things ever and it always has been

THE KIDS

This is kinda cool with the gate in the ceiling and the mirrored shots of the trailer and the kids looking at the upside down gang

So he’s just manipulating el to get rid of the thing that makes him not lose his marbles

Cool

So it’s NOT how she got out okay nvm

El, You’re surprised?? I’m fucking not

That’s where she learned the ol’ neck snapper though

And he’s number one I fucking called it

Wait this is trippy with the rope going through the ceiling. Gravity’s about to get real weird

“Those stains are, uh, I don’t know what those stains are” KING SHIT

WHAT that’s so cool it’s sustained between them that’s awesome

Every time I see the Dio logo on the back of the denim vest I think it says Djo lol

WAIT WHAT THE FUCK

Oh christ the pool

This is so spicy for Nancy (imagine if it had been Steve though that would fuck to explore his guilt)

SO BARB WQS TAKEN BY VECNA???

Oh that’s some gross shit from the pool. Once again, I called the pool being filled with gross black shit in my powers!steve fic lol

No wait OF COURSE el hasn’t escaped yet this is like 1979 or some shit

He’s Vecna. #1 is totally Vecna

So is this why the upside down is always trying to kill 11? WAIT IN SAESON 3 BILLY/MINDFLAYER SAID HE WAS BUILDING AN ARMY FOR HER yeah it’s bc vecna is weirdly obsessed with her

Okay but what does the creep house have to do with vecna? Like why is it there that he set up shop and his psychic link is through that

OH THATS FUCKING WHY HES THE KID WHAT WHAT WHAT

Oh it’s all coming together

As a certified Spider Kid his obsession with these big fucking black widows is ????

“They, like me, are solitary creatures and deeply misunderstood. They are gods of our world.” GOD SHUP YOURE SO ANNOYING

He’s literally the worst. And people like this character??? He’s painful

He fucking SUCKS

You know most serial killers start out with animal cruelty

“She despised me for it.” NO SHE JUST REALIZES THAT YOURE A KILLER AND YOUVE GOT A FUCKED UP CIEW OF THE WORLD

This whole flashback is too much exposition tbh

Brenner did all those tattoos?? That’s lowkey impressive

This is big time fucked up

Those fucking slipper shoes are so weird just have them in socks or barefoot

001 to me is what billy is to the rest of the fandom

The way I absolutely can’t stand him

These last 20 have really lost me tbh

Oh GROSS

Not only did El essentially banish him to the UD she also skinned him

WHY does it look like he’s falling to super hell

THE REAL HORSE PLINKO

Knew it

#yikes talks #st4 #stranger things spoiler #strangerthingsspoilers

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weabooweedwitch · 2 years

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I uh

I dont even know how to word this and not sound kind of cruel but I think I lowkey met like an actually evil mentally ill person today. I think she may have tricked me into doing something I wasn't supposed to do for the purpose of reporting me for it later because she's been deliberately causing scenes at our store and acting like she wants financial compensation for it.

This is a really long vent post but uh. I feel like I need to write this to save these details into my memory and on print

Today she was acting totally fine and i didn't realize who she was until i was outside alone with her. She basically "revealed herself" by bringing up a specific story that allegedly happened to her, I story I immediately recognized being told by a manager about "this nightmare woman screaming abuse". So she basically comes to our store, shopped, and said "im disabled i need help loading my car" which, guess what, is not actually a service our store provides nor is obligated to provide but she will not take no for an answer. So I help her because I like idk didn't want the store to get in trouble or us get in trouble for refusing, and she wanted to give me a tip for helping load her car. I told her no multiple times and was really nice like "oh no, I don't want you to feel obligated just because I was nice" but she talked me into accepting a single dollar bill

This woman was already, uh, "showing signs of her disorder" and was threatening to sue another coworker over severe abuse and she started mentioning like, disability lawyers and shit, and now hours later now that im calm,, I'm thinking "fuck she actually straight up tricked me into taking money from her when im not supposed to" and im absolutely positive she had malicious intent because of the way she gave me the money. I saw other cash in her wallet and she was speaking like she wanted a specific denomination of money but only gave me a single dollar bill? She's going to come back later and say I violated my job or took advantage of her as an elderly disabled woman or something and

And I just. She like. Did something that kind of chilled me a little bit. I'm talking to her and she's being kind of incoherent and unreasonable, complaining about my coworkers but being nice to me,, and I go to hand her a quarter back and she notices my hands are shaking. She's sharp amd present enough to notice my hands were shaking from me quickly handing her a small coin. And she commented on it, all sweet like "oh im sorry to have to put you in this position" (this position being,, outright asking me to report "my abusive coworkers" to management)

She just. She just legitimately manipulated every single interaction she had when she entered the store. And you know what? The first time this happened, the incident where she claimed she was so horrifically abused, which again did not happen? On that day, she had gone up to a manager and said something like

Oh my god wait. The very first thing she said to me was asking if I was a new manager. She was checking to see who I was and how nice I was and she specifically requested me by name to help her with her groceries. She was planning on using me from the very second she walked up to me. Jesus

But continuing that previous thought she deadass asked my manager "isn't there usually some sort of discount or compensation when there's been cases of abuse"

This woman is deliberately making us go outside to load her car where there aren't any cameras and she's trapping us into these horrible conversations where she's talking about how old and disabled she is and how abusive we are and threatening to report people to law enforcement and she's called corporate several times apparently, and the entire time, even as im giving her the 500% ass kissing best customer service treatment, she's still being unreasonable, basically being "my way or the highway"

At some point im trying to get her to empathize and I say something like "im so sorry someone made you feel scared like that. I can relate as someone with an anxiety disorder who has panic attacks and

She interrupts me. Interrupts me, with this, like, I don't even know, literally says "you don't have anxiety, that's just what happens when you work in a hostile work environment with abusive people" and was asking me personal questions about how my coworkers treat me

It's just. I'm so like fucking legitimately scared of her now honestly. She played the part of this helpless old woman but she deliberately did crafty manipulative things and at the end of the conversation she was saying "oh thank you for your help Miranda, bless you" and I get an idea and I say "and thank you, and im sorry I think I forgot to ask your name?" and she just smiles and says "bless you" again, and that's sketch as fuck, deliberately not wanting to tell me her name

But. Yeah uh. I'm just kind of shaken because she was really hammering home to me how she wanted to pursue some sort of charge against my coworker and I just. I worry about things like ADA law and how what if hypothetically "she wins" you know....

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mcalhenwrites · 2 days

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Now that Geckos is out, I plan to work on the side stories for a little collection of them. "Don't" and "Dancing Bones" will be edited, but I plan to post them online for free as well as put them in the story collection.

It'll likely only be an ebook, though, and it'll have a few more stories. That includes a finished version of "Late Returns" (what I've posted is only the first part of a WIP). I want to get back to Stargazers' Hill and the Warren/Henry story that isn't titled yet, but right now, Seasons has taken over my brain again. I'm editing and reposting chapters on AO3. I thought people might be upset that I was reposting it, but so far the reception has been kind. ;A; (I still feel bad somehow? But that's on me.) After publishing Geckos and having an amazing day in the next town over, the following day was... not so great. We had storms. I'm gonna be vague for location reasons, but I live in one of the towns hit by a tornado the other day. I saw a map of it, and uh, I could've seen the tornado out my bedroom window if it had hit during the day instead of at night where visibility is shit. And if I hadn't been huddled in the downstairs hallway with my cats and roommate. I was panicked about the weather all day, and that was worse because it was the anniversary of Andover 1991 (a tornado). I lived through that. Uh, very luckily I lived through that, it hit my neighborhood and was scary close to my house, to the point the sirens 50 ft away or so were drowned out by the sound of the tornado. We had no basement and no good inner rooms or closets in such a tiny house at the time. I've been through other tornadoes since then, but none were as terrifying as that one. Before the tornado and after the reminder that it was Andover 1991 aniversary... I also got an email that I didn't get a job that would've been good for my disabilities. Like, worked around it well and not been too straining on me. Plus I would've worked with animals. I'm struggling financially, so writing is the only way I'm getting any income - outside of crocheting, and I don't want to fucking do that for money. I want my hobby back. I want to make gifts. I want to make OC dolls. I want my limited physical spoons for crocheting to be for ENJOYMENT. Not so stressful it makes me fucking hate crocheting. Which... yeah, I'm kind of there again. That said, I have made a few book sales, but... Well, I'll keep trying. I've got other novels cooking. I'll double down my focus, maybe. I will sketch more. Maybe I'll reconsider using something like Patreon, which... don't love, but like. What can you love? Every site is screwing over creators in some way or another. :'( It's depressing, actually, bc I hop on facebook, and I can't see ANY posts of the people and groups I follow, but you know what I DO see? Fucking suggested pages for AI art. I really hope all the people who gentrified the tiny house movement get scammed into buying stupid fake tiny houses due to AI images and end up taking legal action eventually that helps to bring about the (hopefully inevitable) death of AI? I'm mean, but like, tiny houses and mobile homes and caravans and shit like that were houses before rich people decided they were cute and they went up to $200k-$300k. I wanted a tiny house bc I thought, "at least I might someday afford this" but nah. They took even that away. So enjoy your shitty "this is perfect for me" gushing when the fucking pillows are melted into the planks and the switches for the oven and stovetop are underneath the burners! Anyway! I should probably do more writing and take my anemic ass to bed soon. It's been... a shitty couple of days. I'm trying to be cheerful and remain optimistic and just boost Geckos, Automata... but eh. I'm also trying to survive when everything is against that. I had a suicidal thought earlier today that I should just gulp down all the pills I can get my hands on and be done with things. yay. (I won't. It was a passing thought. A desperate "oh god I can't afford to live and I should give up, I'm in my late 30s and nothing ever gets better" thought.)

#mcalhen personal #mostly writing rambling

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multiplayingorg · 1 year

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One Hell of a Ride

| Repost: Originally posted by Maeve on August 8, 2012

One of the things that I enjoy about The Secret World is that even with its dark setting, the stories and quests have good amount of humor. Last night in The Secret World, I ran a mission with @rmerrifield that had me literally laughing and smiling more than any quest in an MMO has in a very, very long time. There may be some minor spoilers here, so stop reading now if you don’t want to know what happens here.

The mission was Theme Park Tycoon. You find Nicholas Winter outside of the Atlantic Island Park. It seems his father was a billionaire tycoon who left his son nothing of his fortune other than this most unfortunate amusement park. As you can imagine, it is overrun with all types of ghosts and ghouls and other such things that make you afraid of the dark.

It starts out harmless enough. Go to the Octotron. Turn it on. Then pops up the message: Survive until the ride is over. Uh oh. I won’t go into the specifics but we did survive. Next up, the Sideshow Alley. I was not so fortunate here as this little carnival game was out for vengeance. You had to figure out a way to disable it. Luckily for me, @rmerrifield was able to figure out how as I ran back to my body.

There are a few other “kill this” kind of steps in the mission. Where the tears of laughter started was at what seemed like the most harmless of things. Go to the Ferris Wheel. Examine it. Go to the next ride. Sounds easy, right? Well, let me tell you, getting off the Ferris Wheel platform is anything other than easy. And not for the reasons you may be thinking. No, we weren’t swarmed by hordes of the undead. One single specter of a carnie popped up. And with a magic kick in the ass, he knocked us off our feet every time we got back up. I was kicked off the platform fairly early on and was able to get away. I was able to literally laugh out loud as I watched @rmerrifield get continuously knocked down, wondering how she would ever get out of the endless loop. She eventually did, of course, laughing as hard as I was.

The final stage in the mission was in the bumper car arena. Confronted with the TSW version of the Texas Chainsaw fella, we also had to dodge and weave our way through the demon bumper cars. Let me tell you, those bumper cars packed a wallop. Here’s the TSW scarecrow guy with a nasty chainsaw chasing you about and the little Satan cars trying to knock your knees out. Perhaps you had to be there to appreciate the humor. But it was fun.

This is one of the reasons I have found myself drawn into The Secret World so thoroughly. Sure, there are the standard MMO quest templates. Go here. Find this. Kill this. But often times, the presentation is so completely different from anything I have experienced before that it just doesn’t feel like all the old MMOs. Taking a trip on a haunted roller coaster? Definitely something I have never done before. Walloped by demon bumper cars? All new to me. Anything that can make me laugh that hard? Something that I’ve been missing for quite a while now.

#throwback thursday

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autisticstarseed · 4 years

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this is not meant to like,,,, idk guILT anyone with pets or smth like you are all great but anybody else out here have personal traumas with pets or just grew up in poverty and didnt get to have them and feel like for most ppl its so integral to their life and just completely normal to them to have these little animals constantly around and they even fantasize all the time abt having their dream pets someday whereas u really are so unfamiliar with that concept you struggle to even imagine having One of them

#neg// / / //// //#ok to rb try to remember to use trigger warnings if u talk abt animal trauma tho pls #tw animal death// // //#like sorry to be bummer drummer but my two cats one of whom was a kitten died when my house burnt down when i was 5 #and then when i was like 12 uh #this is gonna sound so fucked up and honestly... it was but basically #grandma got me and my sister a puppy and she ended up being a very energetic outdoorsy dog but we had #a tiny ass apartment with a bunch of disabled people so after like 2 months we .. had to give her back #bc none of us could take care of her and she was unhappy so like was it the responsible thign to do... yeah #should she have had.. the foresight...... to not have agreed to take a puppy in for her two grand daughters at all...#if there was even a slight chance (there was a major chance) that we would be physically unable to keep up with it....#so that we as children who had already lost pets didnt have to Give Up our Puppy after two months of caring for her...#yes #beyond that like my aunt had some cats that lived with us for a few years but they were hers and she took them with her when she moved out #and then on a whim and sort of a one last try took in a hermit crab from a kid at school and it died bc i was a dumb kid that didnt kno shit #so my track history just isnt great and i rly cant imagine having a pet i think its too much responsibility and im too #damaged by the other shit honestly i think id just be in a constant state of waiting to lose it and itd just fuck me up #its not like i cant form attachments to animals like i think i can i think im just. entirely too scared to at least rn #with some therapy some money and if my body was ever fixed? yeah i could probably try but that seems so out of reach that i just #when i see ppl talk abt their lives with pets so casually i just kinda sit here and remember like oh yeah.. my experiences were not normal #like idk spending my whole childhood p much pining for a pet only to get the chance and lose them abruptly twice in a row #i may not show it but that [traumatic loss] really be giving me [issues with loving and caring for another creature that will also die]#like i love dogs i respect them i support them i stan them. but they make me nervous bc i dont know their body language #ik the basic stuff but im so Not Used to them that they make me anxious i never kno what theyre doing or why #and cats too when theyre like touching me im like r u gonna scratch and or bite me now i know yall do that sometimes. out of luv #im like. an alien. around animals #im leeloo from the fifth element. idk yall i grew up in a human only home it was boring im sorry #like ill catch myself just STARING for SO LONG at pets especially tiny ones contained in some type of cage/tank bc i just...#IM NOT USED TO SEEING IT THATS SO SAD BUT LIKE WJHWHEJW THATS A WHOLE ASS BEING #[POINTS AT A DOG] WHAT THE ////FUCK//// IS THAT

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shina913 · 2 years

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Scale, Part 3.5 | KSJ

Scale, Part 3.5

Definition: A beam that is supported freely in the center and has two pans of equal weight suspended from its ends; Something graduated especially when used as a measure or rule: such as (a) an indication of the relationship between the distances on a map and the corresponding actual distances; (b) a series of marks or points at known intervals used to measure distances; A graduated series or scheme of rank; A means of ascent

✮ ✮ ✮ Scale Masterlist ✮ ✮ ✮

Pairing: KSJ x fem!reader; appearances by OT7

Rating: Mature content (21+)

Genre: Rich boy!AU; CEO!AU; strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Count: 2.6K+ words

Warnings: socioeconomic imbalance; character physical disability; cussing; office banter; hints of arranged marriages; smut (just hints, not super explicit); secret relationship

Summary: Kim Seokjin lives in a world where money is no object as he is the heir to his family's lucrative company; OC is a scrappy go-getter who has to work hard at multiple jobs to meet her financial obligations. When their paths cross, they'll have to figure out whether they can find a balance point between themselves and their lives.

A/N: This is a bonus chapter that only features Jungkook and Haejin. It's a bit of a flashback and supplements Part 4--but this is an optional read.

❤️, comment, reblog, or send me an ask 📩. Would love to know what everyone thinks!

A year ago…

Although Jin wasn’t feeling up to it, he wanted to keep employee morale up by throwing a holiday party at their new office space. He invited a few staff from their parent company, KimCorp to partake in the merriment.

Haejin decided to stop by to show her support–mainly to make sure that her brother was handling his alcohol but also to say hi to one of her favorite interns from her father’s company.

“Jungkook! So good to see you again,” she beamed while giving him a hug.

He was slightly taken aback but he welcomed it since it’s been so long since he’s seen Haejin–the last time was at the sendoff party at KimCorp nearly a year prior. She was still as gorgeous as ever. He would sooner dive right into her deep, dark eyes again–but he had to get his head out of his ass because she was right in front of him and he actually had to speak to her again.

“H-Hi, noona. You look nice,” he says, complimenting her.

“Thank you. You look good, too,” she said tilting her champagne flute at him before taking a sip.

“So, how have you been? We miss you back on the 10th floor,” she smiled.

“Really?”

She caught herself–that came out wrong. “I mean…yeah–your cohort of interns was such a good bunch.” That sounded more neutral.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. I miss the 10th floor crew, too.” He says sheepishly. “So, I heard you’re taking over the Comms Director position?”

“Oh…yeah. It came as a surprise to me but I was honored to be chosen by the department seniors. Big shoes to fill,” she says.

“You’ll do great, noona. Congratulations!”

“A bit premature for that. I don’t officially take over until the new year.”

“Well–either way, we should still toast to it,” Jungkook says, raising his bottle towards her.

She smiled and clinked her glass. They gazed at each other as they both took a sip. They both felt something…there was a hint of chemistry there–it was electric but neither of them wanted to put their finger on it. It was like a game of chicken.

She cleared her throat after swallowing some bubbly. “Is my brother riding your ass too hard?”

“Wh-what?”

“Sorry,” she giggled. It was her second glass of champagne on an empty stomach, which was making her grow more outspoken. “I know he’s been pretty stressed out. I hope it’s not spilling over to you?” She looked genuinely concerned.

“Oh–no. It’s all good. I’m learning a lot from him, actually. He’s a great mentor…very patient and always willing to impart some knowledge. I love that about Jin-hyung.”

“Yep…sounds just like my brother, alright.”

She took another sip of her champagne. “It’s too bad that my brother poached you away from KimCorp. You could have done some great things at the company.”

He smiled at the compliment. “Thanks. That’s what your dad said, too,” he chuckled. “But uhm–Jin-hyung really sold me on his business plan and uhm, I love a good underdog story.”

She smiled. He was always such a hardworking guy–always dead-set on proving himself worthy. It was one of his qualities that stood out to her. He stayed late even when he didn’t need to–always pushed at that one task that seemed impossible to achieve–and he would make it happen.

“Also–I thought that moving to a different building would keep me more focused.”

She knitted her brows. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“I was constantly distracted.”

“Really? By what?” He always seemed so focused so this confession seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Not by what…it’s by whom,” he says while he takes a swig of his beer. The alcohol was also making him grow braver by the minute.

Now she looked absolutely bewildered.

He looks across the room and sees Jin joking around with Dae and a couple other staff from Financials.

He had harbored feelings for Haejin since beginning his internship at KimCorp. He was infatuated at first. She was insanely beautiful—like a model. It must run in their DNA, he thought.

When she used to work at the news agency, she would occasionally stop by the office to have lunch with her father or brother; greet a few staff and chat with the interns–she was just naturally personable and approachable–especially for somebody born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

He thought she was nice and kind but never had more than a few minutes of conversation with her since she would only drop by for an hour, at most.

Once she made the transition from her old job into KimCorp, he was seeing more of her. He got to know her more, and they sat in a few staff meetings together since he started working more closely with Jin.

He found that she was also sassy and outspoken. She had big dreams for KimCorp. A vision that far exceeded what her father envisioned. A vision that would take it to the future.

It made him look at her in a whole different light. But as soon as his feelings kicked into overdrive, Jin had lured him away to his own company.

It was never going to happen anyway, he thought. And seriously…an office romance with the boss’ daughter? How much more cliché can you get?

“Sorry–this is awkward for me but since we don’t technically work together anymore, I’m just going to come out and say it.” He moistened his lips to brace for what he was about to say next.

“I had the biggest crush on you, noona.”

Her jaw drops. “Wh-what?”

“Yeah. I wanted to come up to you last year but figured it didn’t seem right. You were the big boss’ daughter–and my current boss’ sister. You’re off-limits.”

She cocked her head and raised her eyebrow at that. “Says who?”

He chuckled nervously. “C’mon, Haejin. I didn’t think you’d give me the time of day. Plus your dad and your brother would skin me alive.”

“Why’s that?” She chuckled inwardly at how ridiculous the idea of her father and brother flaying him, but he had her full attention.

As if stating the obvious to her, he says, “I’m clearly punching above my weight–”

“And who told you that?” She interrupted.

“N-nobody. I just–”

“So you only assumed...” She interjected once more, clearly annoyed.

He was at a loss for words. Why was she challenging him? She was the daughter of one of the richest men in the city.

And while Jungkook had been one of the top interns at KimCorp and started making a name for himself at Jin’s company, he still didn’t think that he was worthy of a ‘Kim Haejin’.

She pursed her lips then scoffed. “Huh. Well, that’s too bad then.” With that, she tips her champagne flute, which was still half full, to down the rest of her drink.

“Good seeing you, Jungkook-ah,” she says right before punching him in the arm in annoyance then abruptly leaving the function room.

Jungkook was stumped at her sudden outburst. It took him a couple of seconds to get his body to move so that he could issue an apology to her. For what? He’s not sure but he felt like he may have offended her in some way.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, leaving the rest of his drink on the table then going after her.

He catches up to her down the hallway and blocks her from walking into the elevator and calls out to her.

“Noona! Noona, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Can you let me leave, please?” She looked irritated.

Jungkook was even more confused. “What was that about?”

“What?” She deadpanned.

“Back there? You–just hitting me then storming off?”

She felt guilty for putting her hands on him like that. “I apologize for putting my hands on you. You didn’t deserve that. Now, can I please leave,” she said, trying to push him to the side. But he was all solid muscle. He wouldn’t budge.

“Not ‘til you tell me why.”

She rolled her eyes then looked at him pointedly. “You know, Jeon Jungkook—when I first met you, I thought that you were so smart and such an innovator. But I didn’t realize how narrow-minded you could also be.”

She tried to undercut him but he stopped her again.

“Wait—what do you mean?”

She huffed out a breath and leaned closer to him. “Wouldn’t you think that I’d be able to make decisions for myself? Or be smart enough to know what or whom—“ she cocked her head again, “I want?”

She looked him straight in the eye. It took him a second to piece everything in his head.

When he finally did, the next thing he remembered doing was pulling her into an unused office around the corner–or was it she who pulled him into the empty office? It was unclear.

Lips locked, tongues intertwined, hands roaming all over.

After shutting the door, he props her up on the desk while she tries to undo his belt.

“Wait, wait—“ he says. “Are you sure about this?”

“Jeon Jungkook, if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear to God, I will kick your ass.”

He couldn’t believe his luck. He was mentally kicking himself for not taking a chance sooner.

She tugs on his shirt to pull him closer to her and they kiss again.

He wasn’t going to squander the time that he was given now.

******

They kept this up for over a couple months…sneaking around each other’s places—mostly Jungkook’s since he lived right outside the city.

“Kim Haejin?”

She freezes at the sound of her name being called out in this part of town. She wore a baseball cap on and was dressed down in sweats.

She looked over her shoulder as she picked up her takeout order while Jungkook waited in the car. She recognized him as an old childhood playmate, one that her father had supposedly betrothed her to until he went to school abroad. What was his name again?

“Spencer Chung,” he said.

“Oh my god! Hi! Long time, no see!”

“I know. It’s been years!”

“When did you get back,” she asked.

“I’ve been back for months. You know–dad’s been itching to retire–strike that. Mum’s been wanting him to retire so…I’ve been recalled,” he chuckled.

“I see,” she nodded.

“It’s curious, really. Your name came up during dinner yesterday…or, rather, your dad’s name. You know, he and my dad still play a round of golf once a month. Erm…and I just wondered about how you were and stuff…” he said sheepishly.

“Oh…”

“Anyway, I’d er–really love it if we could catch up sometime. Maybe dinner? For old time’s sake,” he smiled.

“You know what, Spencer, can I get back to you on that?”

“Of course, certainly. I know you’ve probably got tons on your plate since your promotion. How ‘bout this–here’s my card–and–” he pauses to borrow one of the server’s pens and scribbles something in the back.

“This is my personal mobile. I’d really love to hear from you,” he says as he hands his card over to her.

When she gets back in the car, he asks why she got held up at the restaurant when the food was practically ready to be picked up.

“I just ran into an old friend,” she says.

“Old friend?” he asked curiously.

“Anyway, let’s head back. I’m starving,” she said, trying to distract him.

******

She pulled away from Jungkook’s lips momentarily while they made out on his sofa–it made him jerk his head back in confusion.

“Everything okay? Am I doing something wrong?”

“Yeah, uhm–”

Something ate away at her. It’s been a couple of months of sneaking around and hooking up with Jungkook. It’s not like she was seeing anybody else and she assumed that he wasn’t either. But they hadn’t established ‘labels.’

“Are you–seeing someone else?” She blurted out. It took him aback.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just–answer the question.”

“No, I’m not. Why? Are you?”

“No,” she said.

“Okay–now that we’ve got that out of the way…” He continued to kiss her neck.

She lightly pushed him off her again. “Jungkook, what are we doing?”

“Currently, we are about to have sex,” he chuckled.

She blew out a breath. “I know that but I mean–is that all? We’re not seeing other people…we’ve been hooking up for a while,” she trailed off. “I just want to know if there was something more to this.”

That effectively killed his boner.

“The old friend that I saw today–he just practically asked me out.”

Jungkook sat up straight and rubbed his face. “So–what did you say?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she said unassuredly.

“You don’t know?”

“I mean, I didn’t say ‘yes,’ if that’s what you’re wondering,” she clarified.

“Okay…so what’s the problem?”

“It just made me wonder–what are we? Are we…I don’t know. What do we call this?”

“I thought that we were two people who like each other and…I don’t know, just having fun.”

That was not the answer that she had hoped for.

She scoffed. “Wow, Jungkook. And here I thought that maybe we were moving towards something special.”

She was unreasonably angry. They hadn’t actually sat down and had this conversation before. For someone who was heading a communications department, she was not living up to the expectation when it came to making her feelings known to him. But did she have to initiate this exchange?

For now, she would leave reason and logic behind and let her emotions take the lead.

“I mean…if we’re just having fun then, maybe I should go and see if Spencer Chung wants to have fun, too.”

She said as she gathered her belongings and stormed out of Jungkook’s place.

******

Later that night, Haejin was surprised to hear a knock on her door. When she looked through the peephole, she rolled her eyes before opening it.

She stood by the door, staring at him blankly.

“Can I please come in?”

She sighed and moved aside, walking back to her kitchen.

After shutting the door, he stayed rooted by the entrance, hands on his hips as he flared his nostrils.

“Why did you storm off like that?”

“I can do whatever the fuck I please,” she spat out.

“Right, but without giving me a chance at a proper conversation?”

“What else is there to talk about? We’re just having fun!”

“Stop twisting my words,” he bellowed.

He took a few steps towards her.

“Listen, your question caught me completely off-guard. No warning, whatsoever, Haejin.”

“It’s a simple question, Jungkook!”

“That’s not fair! You ambushed me while I had my hand under your bra. What did you expect?”

She folded her arms defensively across her chest.

“You didn’t call that guy, did you?”

“Not yet,” she said simply.

He exhaled deeply, taking a few more steps to close in on her.

“I like you a lot, Haejin. But sometimes you drive me up the wall like no other.”

She huffed out a breath.

“But I’d rather it be you than anybody else.”

She looked back at him, her expression softening.

He tilted his chin up and locked eyes with her. “You want to put a label on this? Let’s do it. I want you and only you, Kim Haejin. Do you feel the same for me?”

Although Haejin could practically date anybody whom she wanted, Jungkook couldn’t deny feeling a little pressure to make sure that he deserved somebody like her.

He wanted Jin and her father’s approval. Even though they had made things official within themselves, they agreed to keep things under wraps for the time-being.

Jin’s company was up-and-coming and Jungkook had introduced the possibility of international partnerships and expansion. He had to see these through and help ensure that success for his hyung to further cement his position.

And when that happened—only then, he thought, he could deem himself openly worthy of her.

Part 4◥

Taglist: @deepseavibez @shameless-army @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @twogyuu @jakepralta @arisud [open]

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aliwritesfic · 3 years

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First Date (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader)

Summary: Frankie only downloaded Tinder after Santi basically forced him to one night, and he never expected to actually meet anyone on there.

Word count: 2.4k

Content warnings: Oral (F receiving), P in V, age gap, online dating, condom used

(I haven’t written creatively in almost 7 years so if this is a waste of time I apologise, also tagging @absurdthirst because i sent them an anon last night about being nervous to post this lmao)

Frankie looked at your photo again and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. He wasn’t used to this whole online dating thing, and he certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on it. Pope swore by it for one-night stands and fuck buddies, and practically forced him to download the app and create a profile while they were all at their favourite bar and Benny had gone home with some girl. He’d swiped right on only a few people and made even less matches. Any conversations he’d had on there fizzled out after a few hours after telling them he didn’t have Snapchat, or Facebook, or Twitter, or anything else like that.

Then he’d matched with you.

Your profile was simple – a couple selfies, a photo on a hike with a beautiful staffy, and a group shot on a night out. Your bio was short and sweet – criminal justice and community welfare student, intersectional feminist, nerd. Lover of cheesy one liners and bad jokes.

Frankie had swiped right almost immediately. The only thing that gave him pause was the age gap – twelve years between you. There were bigger gaps, of course, but he’d never dated anyone more than two years younger.

“You’re both grown adults,” Pope said looking over his shoulder, “what the fuck are you waiting for?”

So, with that, Frankie swiped right and was instantly greeted with a match. His stomach jumped again as you sent the first message, a simple but effective ‘hey, what do teachers and ancient history have in common? They both Babylon!’

You both chatted for a few more days before Frankie decided enough was enough. He asked you out for dinner and drinks at a local sushi place that had recently opened. He felt ill as he waited for your reply, wondering if it was too soon. It was almost an hour later that you replied ‘YES! How’s fri at 8:30 sound?’

It was a date. His first in over a year. The boys had come over to help him get ready, feeling like he was in high school all over again.

Frankie stood outside the restaurant, wishing he hadn’t left his cap in the truck, or at least wishing he’d picked somewhere that didn’t seem like it had an unwritten dress code. But he’d wanted to impress, and the reviews of this place had been positive.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside and moved towards the hostess. “Table for two, under Morales.”

“Right this way sir,” the hostess smiled at him and led him towards a table near the back, and Christ you were already there.

You were even more beautiful in person, in a tight dark dress, heels and a denim jacket thrown over the back of your chair. You were reading the menu, a small frown on your face as you squinted at it. You didn’t even notice him approach until he was standing right next to you. When you looked up, your mouth transforming into a grin, his heart skipped a beat.

“Frankie?” You said, your name sounding like heaven on your lips. Frankie sat down opposite you, his palms suddenly sweaty.

“Hey,” he went to say your name and you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Please, everyone I like calls me Sunny,” you grinned at him and he knew exactly why.

“Well, Sunny,” Frankie felt himself grin back at you, “it’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

“I’ve been so nervous all day,” you admitted, “but a good nervous, like nervous excited. I was supposed to be making notes on one of my lectures today, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this date. It’s been so long since I’ve been on one, I just stressed myself out about it all day.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Frankie laughed, relieved to know that the insanely beautiful woman in front of him was just as out of sorts as he was. He was beginning to feel more at ease with you already, something he hadn’t felt with someone new in a long while.

The waitress arrived then, beaming down at you as she asked if you were ready to order. Frankie ordered a plate of sashimi and a spicy crab roll, while you got a veggie roll, and you both ordered a shot of soju.

“Don’t like fish?”

You shrugged, “I’m allergic, not like deathly or anything but I get a rash and a really bad stomach ache. It sucked when I was travelling through Asia a few years ago.”

Frankie frowned, instantly regretting even suggesting the restaurant in the first place. “We can go somewhere else if you like,” he suggested, ready to do anything he could to make this a perfect first date.

“Oh god, no!” You smiled and Frankie’s stomach jumped. “I’ve been wanting to come here for a while now, so when you suggested it, of course I was gonna say yes.”

Frankie felt a little relieved at that, and you two talked for a while, waiting for your meals. He found out your dog was called Lola, you loved old music, and you were a disability support worker before your close cousin went to prison and you decided to enrol in university to study criminal justice. You found out he was a pilot, ex-military and he loved classic lit.

You continued to talk through your meal and several more drinks. He was beginning to deeply enjoy the sound of your voice, your laugh. You made him feel like you two were the only people in the room, everyone else was insignificant.

Eventually though, you both felt it was time to give up your table to someone actually paying. You tried to pay for your own meal and drinks, but Frankie insisted on paying. You both walked outside into the chilly night air, and Frankie couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were even under the streetlights. You cleared your throat and Frankie noticed a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I uh, I don’t really want this night to end, do you?” you asked. Frankie decided to do what he could feel himself wanting to do all night.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you as he cupped your soft cheeks in his rough, calloused hands and kissed you. Your reaction was almost immediate, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair, pressing your bodies together. Your tongue darted along his bottom lip and he instantly granted you access, his own tongue sliding into your mouth. He wanted you. Desperately.

“Do you want to come back to mine,” Frankie asked, his hands slid down to your waist, he kissed along your neck, feeling your pulse flutter under his lips. You moaned softly as his mouth found your collarbone.

“Yes,” you whispered, “god yes.”

He kissed you again, before breaking away to lead you back to his truck.

“How far?” you asked.

“Five minutes,” Frankie said, resting his hand on your upper thigh where the hem of your dress ended. He felt himself tighten in his jeans as he thought about what he wanted to do to you. He driver faster than necessary, turning the journey into a quick three minutes. Once the truck was off you didn’t waste a moment, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling him between your thighs. Your lips met his frantically, like you were both starving for each other.

Frankie’s hardness pressed against his jeans as you ground against him. He kissed down along your neck and jaw, relishing in your soft moans. One hand stayed planted firmly on your ass, the other snaked up your body to your breasts, pulling your dress down to expose them. You weren’t wearing a bra, and the sight of your breasts in the silver moonlight was irresistible. Frankie’s lips kissed a path down your neck to your collarbone, down further still until he had a hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over it gently, while his hand played with the other, rolling it around between his finger.

“Frankie,” you moaned, arching your back to give him better access. “Fuck.”

“You like that baby?” he whispered looking up at you. You whimpered in response as the hand on your breast moved down your body toward your thighs.

“Please,” you spread your legs a little further for him, and his fingers began to massage your clit though your soaking underwear. Frankie’s tongue continued to work at your nipple licking and sucking while you cried out in pleasure.

His fingers teased the outside of your entrance, his thumb working your clit in methodical circles.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice husky. You moaned in response, unable to form any words as his fingers slid easily inside of you. Frankie watched your face as he fingered you, his own cock straining against his jeans. God he wanted to fuck you, but not until you’d already cum for him.

Frankie moved his thumb in faster circles and you began to fall apart. You clenched around his fingers, crying out as your body shook with your orgasm. He moved his mouth up to kiss you, whispering between kisses.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he groaned.

“We need to go inside,” you panted, your body still trembling slightly. Frankie couldn’t agree more, fumbling with the door of his truck, then his house keys. The moment the door was open you were on him, pulling his jacket off his shoulders, unzipping his jeans. Your bodies moved together in the direction of the kitchen, knocking something down in the process.

Frankie moaned into your mouth as your hands glided up his torso under his shirt. He pressed you against the counter and lifted you up, yanking your dress down to your ankles in the process.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered in your ear, “do you want that?”

“Yes, Frankie, please,” you begged, desperate for him to touch you. He grinned slyly as he crouched down slightly in front of you and spread your legs. The sight of your underwear, drenched with desire, made his mouth water.

Frankie didn’t want to waste a single moment more. With one quick move he slid your underwear down your legs and was working your clit with his tongue. Two fingers moved inside of you and quirked in a come-hither motion.

Your whine of pleasure spurred him on, his tongue massaging your clit expertly. Frankie wanted to tell you how good you tasted, how sexy you sounded, but he didn’t want to waste a moment that could be spent pleasuring you.

“Frankie!” you gasped, your back arching. Your thighs pressed into the side of his head and he moved faster, harder, cock aching with the need to be inside you.

“Frankie, I’m gonna-“ your words were cut short by your orgasm, this one somehow more intense than the one in his truck. Frankie looked up at your face as you came, mouth never leaving your sweet wetness. Your head hung back, moans the only sound you’re able to make. Licking his lips, Frankie stood and cupped the back of your head gently, lifting it so he can look in your eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as beautiful as you come home with him, but he wants to make certain it’s worth your while.

He leant down and whispered your name, the sound sweet on his lips. You sat up and kissed him gently, tasting yourself on him.

“Where’s your bed?” you murmured and Frankie smiled against you. Without another word he picked you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you to his room, laying you gently on the bed. You looked beautiful, naked in the moonlight, staring up at him with desire.

Frankie discarded the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed so he’s hovering over you. His fingers traced soft circles on your waist.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked

“I need you in me,” you reached up and pulled him closer, “I need you.”

Frankie reached over to his dresser and grabbed a condom, saying a silent thanks to his past self for buying them, and fitted it onto his shaft. Then he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

He lined himself up at your slick entrance, and slowly, gently, not wanting to hurt you with his larger than average size. You whimpered slightly as he pulled out, bucking your hips to stay closer to him.

Fuck you felt so good, you tight walls clenching slightly with each thrust. His thrusts became harder, slamming into you as his own ecstasy built. He moaned your name as you held onto his biceps, nails digging into his warm sweaty skin.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold off on his own release, and with you looking at him they way you were, you made it almost impossible to hold back. But no, he wouldn’t. Not until you came a third time for him. He needed to feel you cum with his cock inside you.

Frankie moved his hand so it was between you both, and began to massage your slick, swollen clit. You cried out and clenched his biceps harder, and he felt the moment you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer, your walls tightening around his cock, coating it with your pleasure.

“Cum, Frankie,” you whispered in his ear, and god he wanted to. Frankie grunted as he finally couldn’t hold back any longer. Pleasure flushed through his body as he came to the sound of you moaning his name. In that moment, the only tangible things were his orgasm, the feel of you and your voice. It was a few moments before his thoughts became coherent again. He had never experienced pleasure like that with any other woman.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, noticing a bead of sweat that had formed between your breasts. Your eyes were half closed, but you watched him as he discarded the condom into a wastebasket, grabbed a box of tissues and with a touch gentler than he thought possible for him, began to clean up between your legs.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Do you know how amazing you are?”

You giggled softly, sitting up to kiss him. “You’re the one who made me cum three times. Most guys can’t even manage once.”

Frankie stroked your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours, deciding in that moment you were someone he did not want to let go of. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Fuck yes.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie smut

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nitewrighter · 3 years

Note

Pre-Fall fic idea for a slow day: Echo asks McCree to go on a date. Liao thinks it'll be a good learning experience for her.

“...I dunno about this...” McCree straightened the collar on his shirt. Why did he dress up for this? Why did Liao feverishly take notes on her tablet when she saw he dressed up for this?

“I think it’s a great opportunity,” said Liao, poking at her tablet.

“See the way you’re gettin’ all excited about it makes me feel like a guinea pig.”

“Echo likes you. She trusts you. This is a chance for her to rapidly expand her social interaction repertoire.”

“It’s still weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Well... how does it work with the age thing?”

Liao snorted. “What?”

“I mean she just got the body! Don't that make it... y'know...”

“The frame is new, yes, but the bare bones of her coding are only a couple years younger than you,” Liao said breezily, “Her processing levels were miles beyond yours well before she even had a body.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s computer science, Jesse, it’s nothing personal.”

“Why’d you give her hips?”

“Well, controlling said body actually has massive processing demands on its own, so you could say what could be recognized as her pelvic region hosts an 'auxiliary AI core'--"

"There's a brain in her ass?"

"Arguably, humans have a secondary brain in their colonic region--"

"There's a brain in my ass?!"

"We're getting off topic. There's a secondary AI core focused on mechanical coordination that is housed in her pelvic region, it was large enough to warrant certain design shifts to suit her center of gravity, and I wanted a friendly and appealing silhouette so --” Liao perked up, “So you noticed the hips?”

McCree’s face burned and he glanced off.

Liao rolled her eyes and smiled. “Jesse... if this goes really badly, I can just erase it from her memory.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m only saying, the stakes aren’t that high,” said Liao, "I think it's cute that you're getting nervous."

"Nervous, hell! I just don't know what to make of it!"

"You've had plenty of perfectly pleasant conversations with her--"

"They weren't dates!"

"Did you just say yes because you didn't want to hurt her feelings?" the brightness and absolute lack of accusation in Liao's voice only unsettled McCree further.

"N-no..." McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I--I wasn't really thinking. I guess... I assumed you'd think I'd wreck it or... or wreck her and you'd... write it out of her code..."

"Interesting..." Liao tapped her tablet stylus on her chin.

"I ain't that good with sciencey shit! Reyes brought me on to shoot things!" McCree shrugged a little helplessly, "And the way you talk about her, I don't know if she's a--a work in progress, or-or your kid so..."

"A little bit of both. This is where AI gets messy," said Liao with a smile, "You don't know if you're making something human... but you get to make something new."

McCree just stared at Liao for a few seconds, opened his mouth to say something, realized he had no idea what to say to that, and then closed his mouth.

"It's going to be wonderful," said Liao, gently putting a hand on the back of McCree's shoulder.

"Wait--Is there anything I should---?" McCree started but the door slid open and Liao more or less shoved him out into Zurich Headquarters' courtyard gardens. It was twilight, Friday night, and strings of fairy lights had been strung around the sycamores, magnolias, and plum trees that decorated the garden. A couple of brightly colored paper lanterns were strung along the lines of electric lights, giving the usual contemplative and monumental air of the garden a more warm and festive feeling. McCree scanned the garden, seeing a table set with candles and a small basket of bread about 15 feet ahead of him.

"Jesse?" McCree heard a familiar voice and swiveled on his heel to see... a glowing blue-white Dolly Parton circa 1974 in a daisy-patterned peach sundress.

"Whuh..." McCree's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Is this okay?" Dolly Parton spoke with Echo's voice and McCree visibly flinched again. "Oh you don't like it--" The glowing Dolly Parton pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Give me a moment! I can fix it!"

"Echo--?" McCree started, but holographic pixels spiraled around the not-Dolly Parton and reshaped her into.... Olivia Rai, her usual afro styled into the more-textured Gibson Girl hairstyle she sported in Six Gun Killer.

"What about this?" said Echo, "Is this all right?"

"I mean I like the movie but--" McCree started but the pixels whirled around Echo.

"Lee Byung-Hun, 2016, Magnificent Seven," said Echo. “My scans of your hormone levels showed an overwhelming positive reaction to him.” Again, this hologram form was still in the sundress.

Okay we really need to talk about the scanning thing, thought McCree, but he just stammered out, "They're all really nice, Echo, but you don't have to--" McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, I think we'll both be more comfortable if you're... you, y'know?"

"Me? But it's so..." 2016 Lee Byung-hun Echo twiddled her fingers nervously, "It's so..."

"It's the you I know," said McCree, shrugging, "I like it, Echo, really."

The hologram fell away from Echo in a shower of cubic pixels, revealing a partially holographic head on a heavily modified omnic frame. She was a patchwork between a handful of standard omnic parts and sleek parts whipped up on-site at this point. No wings. The sundress sagged a little off her metal frame.

"There you are," said McCree.

Echo smiled a little. "Sorry... the hologram capabilities were for optimal interfacing... so I thought..."

"I get it," said McCree with a smile, "I was a little nervous too."

"You were?!" said Echo, "But you're so... charming! And my scans of your antibodies revealed that it was very statistically likely you have had higher than average amounts of--"

"Hoookay! Moving on!" McCree said quickly.

"Moving on," said Echo, processing this.

There was the sound of a cybernetic throat being cleared and both McCree and Echo turned their heads to see Genji in a long-sleeved collared shirt, black vest, bow tie, and apron.

"Genji?" said McCree, suppressing a laugh in his voice.

"...not a word," said Genji.

"I know I got stuck as the waiter back in Venice but this is--"

"I said not a word!" said Genji, furiously. He drew in a steadying inhale. "Ma'am and sir. If I may direct you to your table."

"...oh this is rich--" McCree started.

"McCree, I know 37 ways of killing you in under 11 seconds, do not test me," said Genji.

"Uh huh," said McCree, "Show us the way, Garçon."

Genji muttered something under his breath in Japanese as he lead them to the table. McCree hurried over to Echo's side and pulled out her chair for her.

"Oh--Thank you!" said Echo, sitting down.

Genji rolled his eyes as McCree took his own seat. "Liao was able to negotiate with the headquarters chefs,” he said, setting glasses of water on the table, “You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus."

"So there's not a menu--?" McCree started.

"You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus," said Genji, with about as much murder as anyone could inject into the words 'Chicken scallopini and asparagus.'

"Okay," said McCree meekly as Genji walked off briskly.

"Er--don't mind him," said McCree as Genji walked off, "Blackwatch suspended... getting antsy, y'know."

"I don't," said Echo, equally pleasantly and blankly.

McCree cleared his throat and grabbed some bread from the basket between them, buttering it. "Well... You heard about the Venice incident, right?"

"I did not," said Echo, "I'm quarantined from most networked systems."

"Mm," McCree took a bite of his buttered bread, "Well... the long and short of it is, we fucked up."

"Not you!" said Echo on reflex.

"Well, not me, at first--but we had to follow through on the fuck-up if we were going to get out of it alive," said McCree with a shrug.

"I'm sure you did your best," said Echo, picking up a piece of bread. They both knew she couldn't eat, so instead, she seemed to be using it as something to do with her hands, breaking it off into bits.

"Eh, I don't think any of us were at our best," said McCree, "But... you do what you can, right?"

""Mm-hmm," Echo nodded, "Doctor Liao's been able to convince a handful of operatives to bring my AI processor on the orca with certain missions to observe, but my speech is disabled. Apparently it 'freaks people out.'" Echo glanced off resentfully.

"Not you?" said McCree.

Echo nodded. "And I know Morrison doesn't like me learning combat tactics."

"Echo, I can't think of anyone who loves humanity more than you," said McCree.

"Thank you, Jesse," said Echo. She was silent for a few beats. "And.... thank you for doing this. I--I don't know how you see me..."

"I'm still figuring that out too," said McCree, smiling a little, "But... I like to think I'm a good judge of character. And I'm proud to know you. And I'm proud that I mean enough to you to be here."

Echo's hologram face brightened, and she glanced off, a bit bashfully. "I--I can't even eat bread," she said quietly, smiling as she glanced down at the small pile of shredded bread bits on her plate.

"Psh. Bread. You can turn into whoever you want. Why worry about bread?" said McCree.

Echo snickered a little.

"...who's your favorite to turn into?" asked McCree, "I know you were turnin' into all that stuff earlier for me because of all the stuff we talked about and those dumb movies we watched--”

“I don’t think they’re dumb--”

“But... what about you? Is there a person you like turning into?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I would say...Figure skaters," she said thoughtfully.

"Figure skaters?" McCree repeated.

"Not any individual one, but I’ve been putting together a composite hologram of several of them," said Echo, "Skaters, they--they aren't ruled by the same physics as other humans. All that power, all that grace, all on a plane that does not have the same rules of speed or friction."

"Bet you'd be a hell of a dancer," said McCree, smiling.

"I like to think I'm learning," said Echo, with a slightly smug shrug.

"Chicken scallopini," a plate clanked unceremoniously in front of McCree and McCree flinched to attention to see Genji next to him.

"Jesus, man! A little warning next time!" said McCree.

"Ninja," said Genji flatly.

"What about her?" said McCree, pointing at Echo.

Genji looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Jesse, it's fine," said Echo. She waved her hands and a hologram of what appeared to be lobster thermidor glowed into existence in front of her.

"...she can take care of herself," said Genji, walking off, "Let me know if you need a refill on water."

"Don't mind him," McCree said again.

"I don't," said Echo, materializing a holographic fork into existence and taking a holographic bite of her holographic food.

McCree sectioned off bites of his own meal and took tentative bites and chews, but it was good. A faint 'Mm' fell out of him and he opened his eyes to see Echo closely observing him. He took another bite, not taking his eyes off of Echo this time. Echo seemed to do the same, imitating him. But it wasn't quite the same, he observed. There was a lot of Liao in her, the way she'd stuff food off to one cheek and slowly parse it out as long as she needed while she multitasked. He saw it in all the nights Liao had brought takeout to the lab. In this case, Echo perfectly adapted Liao's eating habits to McCree's.

McCree swallowed hard. "Do you ever uh... make food... make you happy?"

"What do you mean?" said Echo.

"Well, if you eat really good food, you go, like, 'mm' and stuff--if all the food is only stuff you come up with... how does that work?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I... never thought of food as stimulating the pleasure response. Mostly it just seemed necessary for interfacing. Does it stimulate a pleasure response?"

McCree tried not to focus too hard on the words 'Pleasure response.' "Well, it depends on the food," said McCree.

"Does your food stimulate a pleasure response?"

"I mean compared to the rest of the shit I've had this month? Definitely," said McCree with a shrug.

"I see," said Echo. She looked at her food for a few seconds. She took a bit of her own holographic meal and a deep, sensual "Mmnh," bloomed out of her, her shoulders bunching up and her head tilting back with the sensation.

McCree sharply inhaled, realized his mouth was full of chicken scallopini, and coughed and choked for nearly a minute.

"Did I do it wrong?!" Echo asked with alarm.

"N--" McCree coughed, "No--" He coughed again, "You're-- You're doin' fine--"

Echo giggled. “I--I’m sorry, I’m still deciphering the appropriate forms of human pleasure.”

McCree found his face burning again and just gulped down some of his water.

“...that was an odd thing to say,” said Echo, glancing off.

“Nah, I’ve been told I’m old-fashioned a lot,” said McCree with a dismissive hand wave.

“Well, that’s why I like you,” said Echo, shyly.

McCree’s chews slowed.

“You... feel solid. I know I can trust you to... to tell me what you think... but.. also to be kind. I don’t know what other people want from me, but I know you just want another person. And... you’re very open in terms of what that person can be.”

“Well I can tell you you don’t need to be Dolly Parton to win me over,” said McCree with a shrug and another bite of his food.

Echo giggled again and McCree swallowed.

“I’m still not sure if I’m doing this right,” said Echo, smiling down at her own hologram food.

“Eh, you don’t really think of it in terms of ‘doing it right’--it’s mostly just about both of you having a good time. And trust me, you’re a better date than a lot that I’ve had,” said McCree with a snicker, “I just hope I’m doing it right too, y’know? It’s a lot of pressure, being anyone’s first date.”

“Oh!” Echo perked up, “I never thought of it that way....”

“Am I doing it right?” said McCree with a slight lopsided smile.

“Hmm...” Echo seemed to genuinely and very seriously ponder this.

“Oh come on, you’re making me nervous!” said McCree.

“Current assessments are... positive,” said Echo, “More data may be necessary to confirm any findings I’ve drawn thus far. We may have to do this again. An experiment is useless unless you can replicate its results”

“So... second date then?” said McCree, “That’s generally considered a good sign.”

“Oh! So I’m good at this!” said Echo.

“Sure are,” said McCree with a snicker.

Echo beamed.

“Think we might have to do something other than dinner next time, though. I think if we try to get Genji in a waiter outfit again, he may actually kill me.”

“I estimate by his hormone levels and body temperature that there is an 89% likelihood of that occurring, yes,” said Echo. They both laughed for a little bit, and as the giggles died down Echo tilted her head. “So... you’ve been on bad dates?”

“Oh, terrible dates--but I don’t want to bore you---”

“It could be very useful data!” said Echo with that same brightness Liao had shown when she saw McCree being nervous.

McCree rubbed his chin. “Well... there’s a couple funny stories....”

-----

McCree was humming when he arrived in the Blackwatch sector later that night, bobbing his head and shoulders a bit with his humming as he loosened his bolo tie and took off his hat.

“Sounds like someone had a good time,” Reyes was seated in front of Blackwatch’s main monitor, mindlessly leafing through some paperwork.

McCree barely interrupted his own humming with an “Mm-hmm” as he kept walking past.

“Reyes, you really must find a way to end Blackwatch’s suspension, or I fear he’ll romance one of the custodian’s vacuuming bots, next,” said Moira, leaning against the desk next to Reyes.

“Eh, if it means getting Genji in a bowtie again...” Reyes shrugged.

“You will never get me in a bowtie again,” Genji seethed from a shadowed corner.

“You asked for a mission--” Reyes started, but cut himself off as the three of them watched McCree continue to walk and hum down to his own quarters.

“...by god, I think he actually had a good time,” Reyes said quietly.

“Madness is setting in,” Moira mused.

“We need to get out in the field again,” Genji said, his voice tense.

“Or maybe you just need a date,” said Reyes shrugging. Reyes heard the audible click of the shuriken plate on Genji’s arm as Genji’s shoulders tensed up. “...or not.”

#overwatch #mcecho #jesse mccree #echo overwatch #mina liao

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

In the Spotlight (S.R)

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader Word Count: 5050

Summary: The one where Tony pushes Steve into a photoshoot, rubbing his hands and smirking at such action being almost a practical joke; a great way to make Cap squirm for a good cause.

Well, the joke just might turn out to be on him.

Warnings: mention of child cancer patients and disabled kids, Tony being a bit of an ass, attempt at humour, some language

A/N: The idea is a courtesy from a wonderful person, chase-your-dreams-away who always saw Chris’ FILA 2015 photoshoot as Steve showing he actually can pose. Thank you, sweet! This one’s for you!

(gif not mine)

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Ah, Cap! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

It wasn’t that he dreaded to hear there was a mission; that would be fairly alright even if it meant that the world was once again a terrible place with horrible people who needed to be stopped in it. No, Steve’s fright was caused by something else entirely.

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘Just the guy I wanted to see!’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully excited, beaming in a manner that told Steve that his friend was about to revel in the discomfort he was about to cause to him.

God help him.

Steve forced himself to continue walking, a tight mile on his lips.

“Morning to you too, Tony. What’s the matter?”

The man behind the legendary Ironman suit blatantly wiggled a finger at Steve, smirking; a clear sign that he already had his coffee, possibly with two shots of espresso.

“Morning. Glad you asked. You’re free in the afternoon, right?—Yeah, I already checked the agenda you keep with Jarvis-“ Make that three shots of espresso. Also, incredibly RUDE. But guess that what one gets when living in a building ran by an artificial intelligence. “-so I set up an appointment like four weeks ago-“

Steve shook his head, raising his hand in attempt to stop the rapid fire of words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Tony, hold on a second-“

“What?” the billionaire snapped, frowning. He hated being interrupted.

“First of all, I don’t have to share all my plans with Jarvis-“

“But you do. Sorry to break it to you, but you have no social life to keep under wraps.” Ruder. “…or do you have a hot date today?”

Steve was so embarrassed and so frustrated with the man that he was tempted to say yes just because. To make a point. But from the two men in the room, he was the less petty one, so he told him the truth.

“Well, no-“

“See? No problem here-“

“Yes there is!” Steve protested, crossing his arms on his chest as anger started to build there. “I could have had plans! You need to consult things with me! It’s about principle!”

Tony eyed Steve, unimpressed, his right brow arched. “Really? Principle? We’re gonna go there? I don’t think so. Aren’t you curious what the appointment is about?”

Steve sighed exasperatedly, so not done with the conversation Tony so carelessly dismissed, but he in fact was curious, wanting to be prepared for whatever insanity the man came up with.

Tony planning stuff usually equalled Pepper planning stuff, or both of them together, except Pepper had a habit of asking first before confirming the plans and setting appointments. Also, plans by Pepper usually equalled PR. Steve wasn’t too fond of PR stuff, genuinely hating shaking hands with politicians with smiles as fake as their election slogans.

“What’s the appointment about, Tony?” Steve asked to humour his not-exactly-a-friend-at-the-moment.

Tony smirked once again, a hint of mischief flashing in his dark irises.

“Feeling pretty today, Rogers?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his muscles tensing; that sounded even worse than he had imagined.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’re gonna promote a new sports collection. You better start posing in front of the mirror to get your head in the game,” he mocked lightly, just as Steve predicted, basking in the horror that overtook Steve’s very being along with utter disbelief.

“What? Why?”

Steve did not enjoy being photographed. It usually involved ‘striking a pose’ or whatever the kids called it these days and once again, strained insincere smiles. Yeah, he was more than alright to take a picture with a fan if they were a kid who looked up to him. But other than that? Ugh.

“Come on! Lighten up, Rogers! It’s for charity!” Tony called out, stepping closer to pat Steve’s bicep. “Uh-huh, firm, good.”

Please let me leave, Steve begged the heavens, unsure if Tony was actually fawning over his muscles – serum-induced and supported by hard work, thank you very much – or if he was mocking Steve again.

“But seriously, it’s for charity that deals with enabling the disabled kids to do sports, any kind that’s possible with their impairment really. From some sort of a football to marathons or archery or whatever. It’s for a good thing.”

Steve felt the tension in his shoulders partly subdue, relaxing a bit. For one, that did sound like a good cause and for two, there was a barely noticeable change in Tony’s voice, just a little waver in his tone, giving away that for all the smirking and nudging and shit-talking, the genius cared for people and had a heart. Having a heart - Tony Stark’s most heavily guarded secret.

Steve sighed, his previously lost appetite returning.

“Alright, Tony. Where, when and what do I need to do?”

The other man patted his bicep again, this time in a truly friendly manner and grinned. “I’ll let Jarvis give you the details. You just try not to screw it up. Seriously, train how to smile in front of a mirror or something. Some poses, whatever. The photographer looks pretty good – not just professionally, if you know what I mean-“

Steve couldn’t help the eyeroll at the remark, one that was followed by Tony’s scandalized insulted gasp as he slowly made his leave, gesturing.

“-so I guess you don’t have to worry… much. Not sure if there will be trunks involved. Or a speedo. So, you know, keep it in your pants and don’t look anywhere I wouldn’t… which isn’t leaving much-“

“Bye, Tony,” Steve called after him, resisting the urge to childishly cover his ears just so he wouldn’t have to listen to the dirty teasing.

“What, it’s a valid concern we don’t want a lawsuit form her--“

“Go before I rattle you out to Pepper,” Steve grunted and at that, the genius grimaced and swiftly disappeared in the doorway.

Steve once again sighed and decided that he might need a bit more carbs in his breakfast than originally planned just so he survived today.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You weren’t kidding anyone – you were a teeny tiny bit nervous. Your career had been rather colourful, you dipped your fingers in many kinds of photography and you still enjoyed the diversity, the various pictures of beauty – and there was a lot of beauty in the world to be captured – still calling out to you.

You had met famous people before too and you always managed… but Captain America was a whole new level of a challenge. You were feeling equal parts worried and damn lucky for being picked for the job; a job you wouldn’t get a penny for. Shooting a thing like this for charity with a name as great as Steve Rogers, that wasn’t about money – not quick one at least. It was about prestige.

On the other hand, you would get almost any props you’d think of, within reason, of course – just saying a word was enough. And you had a few, images already painted in your head as you read on Steven Grant Rogers a bit more, got a good look on pictures online, and obviously, saw the collection.

Thinking about it, maybe it was him who should be scared, because excitement was the leading emotion of yours for while now.

You saw him arrive, the chatter about it instantly spreading like fire. And honestly? He did look a bit spooked, so you took the liberty to knock on the room he was provided with, the stylists already in.

“Come in!” sounded from the inside and you took a deep breath, poking your head in – and deciding that entering fully was more polite since you were about to introduce yourself.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him, only a showing a smidge of nerves on the outside, you hoped.

As you offered your name, the blond man – built like a tank, a very handsome tank, with the sweetest inviting smile and bright eyes – rose from his seat immediately, holding out a hand to shake, introducing himself as well as if it was necessary. It was a nice sentiment, however.

“Please, call me Steve. Something tells me that formalities would only get in the way,” he said with a slight curve to his lips and you felt yourself relax right away. He’d be excellent to work with. Now you really couldn’t wait.

“Then you must call me by my name too. Thank you for suggesting it,” you accepted delightfully, eyeing the pair of stylists you had met before on similar projects; this kind of business was all about knowing the right people. You nodded at them, grinning. “Now, Steve, I have a very important mission for you.”

The captain’s eyebrows jumped at your wording – and at your teasing. You scolded yourself lightly for your choice of words, unwittingly nudging him towards the wrong headspace. You didn’t need a soldier now, quite the opposite.

“Oh?”

“I need you to tell these two lovely people what amount of make-up and what hairstyle you’re comfortable with,” you explained, earning a slightly confused tilt of Steve’s head. “Sure, I have a certain visual in my head, I’m sure they have too.” You exchanged a knowing look with them. “But most of all I need you to feel good. If you’re pressured into something you hate, we can’t work any magic there.”

Steve nodded in understanding, stiffly, and you had a hunch that he might have been pressured into this whole thing.

“But please don’t leave on us now,” you added quickly and he huffed a short laugh, bittersweet, letting you know that you were correct in your assumption.

“I won’t leave. But thank you for the tip.”

Gosh, he was so polite and had a subtle air of greatness around him (also known as BD energy these days), you could bask in his presence forever – but you had to work.

“All in days’ work. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your heart skipped an excited beat when a twinkle appeared in his brilliant blue irises and you were done for.

You really hoped your hands wouldn’t shake; you’d hate for the pictures to be blurry.

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Once you were in your own kingdom of wonders, all nerves vanished, only child-like giddiness remaining. However, same couldn’t be said about Steve; he entered the space, fidgeting – not too obviously, but visibly enough – eyes flickering all over the room as if he just arrived to a Wonderland indeed.

If you were being honest, such a hunk of a man appearing so endearingly lost… he was kinda adorable.

You felt the corners of your lips automatically rise at your silly thoughts and at the image of him. Besides adorable, he sure looked hot in the white jacket. Who knew sportwear could look so alluring?

“Looking good here, Steve,” you called out as he approached and upon meeting your eyes, he attempted a smile too – little too apprehensive on the edges for you to believe it was honesty and not sheer professional courtesy. “Clothes feel good?”

You could see his expression melt into pure puzzlement at such question, clearly not having expected it.

“Oh… uhm, yes. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said. I need you to be comfortable, Steve,” you reminded him softly, earning a rather frantic nod.

“I… am.”

You could practically hear the unspoken ‘sort of’. Well, it was a work in progress.

“Little steps. Alright, so… I’m gonna be talking a lot. Cut me off whenever I’ll be getting on your nerves too much, okay? We’ll start with this set-up, with this background, obviously. I need to you to just walk to the centre- good, now turn your head to the left—a bit more… perfect.” Not.

Uh-huh. Probably his first time; you should have figured, though a heads-up would be nice. You should have asked dammit. You chewed on your lower lip, gears in your head spinning wildly as you tried to assess him.

Mm.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

His head snapped back to you in surprise and you couldn’t but chuckle, mock-frowning at him. He realized his mistake and quickly looked away, returning to the pose you had attempted to set him into before – his beautiful profile now dusted with pink.

“The colour?” you encouraged him and started taking photos even if you knew you wouldn’t use them, not with his shoulders so stiff and his expression slightly twisted in confusion still – even if he apparently tried to look natural.

“Uhm, blue.”

His face relaxed a fraction and you smiled to yourself.

“More sky-blue or royal blue or something entirely else?” you continued, not at all surprised when a second later you learned that it was sky-blue.

You thought it might be because of his eyes and you wondered; perhaps his eyes were the only thing that hadn’t changed during the serum transformation. His eyes were last straw to grasp at when his whole body suddenly didn’t feel like his.

Or maybe he was moonlighting as an artist, appreciating all kinds of beauty like you did and knew his stuff.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen colour so well before his transformation and fell in love with the particular shade upon seeing the sky.

“Mm… ever had the time to appreciate the sight of the ocean? Breath-taking blue on the surface, matching the sky, reflecting the sunrays so sharp that it would make one squint—but you don’t, you can’t. Because damn, it’s so beautiful and you can feel the breeze in your hair, almost flowing between your fingers and you just have to keep your eyes open to commit to memory what it looks like, how it feels, the sand between your toes, the sun warm on your skin…”

You babbled on, your heart fluttering at how damn magnificent Steve looked now, gradually relaxing his posture, his eyes softening, the corners of his mouth subtly raised in a smile, not an artificial one, just a soft curve to his lips as he lost himself in a pleasant memory – or a daydream. You had to remind yourself to press the shutter release; it would be too easy to simply watch the man in front of you coming out of his shell, releasing his light and grace for everyone to see.

“Absolutely wonderful, Steve, thank you. Shall we move on?” you praised him softly and his absurdly long lashes fluttered as if he indeed woke up from a dream. He appeared to be a little lost again, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Of course. Where do you want me, ma’am-- I mean-“

“Oh hush!” you interrupted him rudely with a grin. He was too precious for words, resembling a puppy, all soft and loveable and yet he was somehow so respectable; you’d have to watch yourself just so you wouldn’t fall in love with him in the short time you were given together. “No ma’am, we’ve been over this. Now…”

You instructed him to walk to the wall of a ‘beach house’, half of the background imitating the very beach you had described; you offered him a different jacket and a cap to hold in his hands, the item serving more than one purpose; one was the campaign, the other was to give him something to do with his hands.

For this picture, you had him looking at you, which made you fidget self-consciously for a change; this time, the story you came up with was to put both of you at ease.

At this point, Steve was an open book to you – or, well, open enough. You had done your reading on him a bit, sure, but now you truly started to see his personality – one of your favourite parts of doing photography coming into play.

“Alright. Posture is great. Now, do you often meet kids?”

Steve wasn’t as surprised at the question anymore, replying calmly, but almost without a thought.

“Yeah. We, uh, we sometimes go to the hospitals to make the patients’ day a bit better? It’s such a small thing to do, I know, for an oncological kid, but they are always delighted. And they are so brave, I feel like a—well, like a sucker compared to them.”

“Weren’t you sickly as a kid?” you questioned lowly and Steve’s gaze dropped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his expression falling.

“Done your reading, huh?”

“The wonders of 21st century and our educational system. But I’m just bringing it up to make a point. I think that you can see them and that’s why they like you visiting so much. Something tells me that you can truly feel what they feel and they sense it – kids can be ridiculously intuitive. Maybe you share, I don’t know of course, but I think that somehow they just know and they see a fellow warrior who beat all the illnesses too. And they look up to you, because you give them hope. And not just sick kids. I bet you met a few kids claiming you’re their favourite superhero just because you have a frisbee.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, but you could see that what you had said before the funny bit touched him and it had been that part that had the desired effect – to pull him back where you wanted him, relaxed and positive.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You’re not everyone’s hero for nothing, Steve, you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff to begin with. But I think it’s what behind the shield that some people find even more inspiring. Be proud of that too.”

The perfect shot was taken and you couldn’t but recall the quote I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying, because yeah, you could weep now. You quickly stood up and took few more pictures, because it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

“And look at you, turning into a model so easily when it comes to helping people, again,” you teased him lightly while being nothing but honest.

As at ease as he appeared now, you’d think he was doing this on a regular basis. As if you hadn’t been trying to coax out his true self out for everyone to see in a simple photo just a few minutes ago.

His hands found their way into the pockets of temporarily his jacket, gaze falling to the floor before his eyes locked onto yours, grateful and gentle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you. Thank you for being so patient with me. I thought this would remind me of the old days when I-” He hesitated, blue eyes lightly misted with doubt, so you beckoned for him to continue to speak freely. You’d got into some pretty deep stuff yourself just a moment ago after all. “-when I was a lab experiment to show off.”

You nodded in understanding, even if you couldn’t imagine what was it like; then again, in your early days, you had met enough parents who came to your atelier to show off their trophy children, so this wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that however you hated doing it, you were giving people hope back then too. And it’s not right to reduce person to a symbol, but symbols were and are important. As long as there are people who are able to see beyond the simplification, then I think it’s worth it. Then again, I never was anyone’s dancing monkey, so…” you shrugged, internally cringing at being such a blabbermouth, afraid that you came too far, put Steve off and that he would withdraw back to his shell.

But he didn’t. He gifted you a brilliant smile, one reaching his eyes.

“And all this?” you hummed, vaguely gesturing around, hoping he’d catch on. “I’m glad if you like the way I work, but the pictures? That’s not me, Steve, that’s you. And all I hope for is to show people a little bit more of you, throwing away the shield and letting them see that Steve Rogers is just as radiant.”

The intensity of his gaze now was enough to make your heart stop beating, his expression suddenly unreadable and you quickly covered your mouth, an apology already spilling from your lips.

“I’m so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I turned into one of the fawning fangirls, that wasn’t my intention. You have to stop me when I get too much-“

“You’re didn’t and you don’t,” he smiled kindly and shook his head, appearing genuine. “I just never met anyone like you. And I mean that in the good way, just to be clear.”

You felt your face burn; because of your TMI talk and his compliment.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered out, causing his smile to turn radiant indeed.

He kept watching you, silent, eyes roaming your face, irises blue and intense—when had he got so close? Or did you walk to him? He was positively prettier upon closer inspection, all sharp edges to his jaw, lips calling out with how damn soft they would be, not to even mention his hair, and oh, was that a drop of green in his eyes? Oh wow, you could drown in that single drop, surrounded by the most enticing shade of blue and--- you closed your eyes and cleared your throat, trying your best to ignore the tingle in your fingertips and in your gut, pleasant warmth in your core-

“We, uhm, we should probably go back to work,” you whispered, licking your lips as you once again glanced at his and you swiftly spun on your heels, desperately trying to remember what shots you wanted to take next and if it was time for him to change already- oh god, you couldn’t possibly handle the thought of him losing clothes…

His expression dimmed a fraction, an epitome of slipping back into politeness. “Of course. Tell me how you need me… ma’am,” he teased, subtle quirk to his lips and you felt your cheeks burn hotter— but your breathing got easier as he was letting you know that you were still alright.

You had a half-mind to call him a soldier in the same manner, but you didn’t want him to slip into that persona.

“Oh, you have no idea what you signed up for, Steven.”

He chuckled, but followed you as you walked to the next scenery.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“What the hell, Rogers?!”

Why?

And this right here, the ‘What the hell, Rogers?’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully exasperated and perplexed at some of Steve’s past actions probably, and that usually meant a lot of uncomfortable questions coming his way.

God help him.

Yet, he sighed and walked in, preferring to face his fate right away and go about his day as soon as possible.

“What did I do?”

“Jarvis, if you could, please,” Tony requested with a solemn expression, one of his thin holographic devices lighting up on the counter and instantly projecting several floating images as Steve walked closer.

Steve’s lips parted in surprise, shocked ‘oh’ escaping them as his heart was sent into frenzy.

Twenty images in total, photos of a blond man of Steve’s own body-built, clad in sportswear posing in every single one of them. His face was familiar too and yet somehow foreign; surely these couldn’t be real. There was no way Steve looked so confident and almost proud in some pictures, but mainly, appearing so comfortable in his skin.

Steve’s mind raced as he tried to associate the model with his own person and yet—he couldn’t but feel rather satisfied. Because this was most definitely him. And the photos were… well, not bad at all. Simultaneously, while his chest puffed with pride he desperately attempted not to let go into his head, he remembered precisely how these photos came to existence and who should totally take the credit here.

“That’s all you gonna say?! Oh?” Tony demanded, gesturing around the holograms as if these were corpus delicti of a serious offence and Steve was once again reminded of what Tony Stark was not; a patient man.

Steve felt a smile creep onto his lips as he shrugged.

“Oh, he says. You’re asking me what did you do?! THIS! If I knew you were a damn runaway model, I would have expected less fun than I did when imaging seeing you squirm! Look at this! These are way too good!”

Steve couldn’t disagree, mildly amused at Tony’s antics. In fact, he really was ridiculously content with the results of something he had dreaded and couldn’t have even hoped to turn out like this.

“…is that a bad thing?” he couldn’t but mock, earning an exasperated huff… and a smirk.

“Well… not, I guess. My little black heart is just… disappointed.”

Ah, yes. The heavily guarded secret – Tony Stark did have a heart and contrary to popular opinion, it was not little or black.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hush!” Tony shushed him, a twinkle appearing in his eye, amusement mixing with satisfaction. “But seriously. What the hell? Since when do you… pose? Like this? Like… wow.”

“Careful there, Stark, you’ll make him blush,” Natasha hummed as she entered the communal kitchen, checking out the flowing pictures with interest and a curve to her lips. “These are pretty great. You did well, Rogers.”

And all of sudden, Steve couldn’t handle the praise anymore; it had been fun with Tony, but now when Natasha joined in, swiftly followed by a wolf-whistle from Sam at her heels… it felt wrong to brag about this, it wasn’t fair – he wasn’t the one who deserved to be given the majority of the merit.

“It’s… it wasn’t me, really…“ he admitted sheepishly.

And it wasn’t. It was all you.

Looking at the photos, he could tell what you were talking about when you pressed the shutter release for every single one of them. Painting the vivid image of the ocean just with your words. Calling him a hero in a way no one ever had. Pleading him to be proud of what he had accomplished. Making him feel those things, causing him to gradually gain confidence, feeling good in his own skin even when being at the centre of attention, encouraging him to suggest a pose on his own. Hell, Steve might go as far as to say that he had been having fun.

But it was all you.

“Looks a lot like you, man,” Sam chuckled and Steve would have shot him an annoyed glare hadn’t he been so embarrassed and self-conscious to admit who was to blame for the pictures turning out so great.

Because… yeah, Steve wasn’t vain or tried not to be, but these were pretty swell. You were a magician, you had to be. And he had fallen straight into the trap of your charms.

“Har har… the photographer was amazing. She made me feel-” He didn’t even know how to describe it without making himself look like a complete fool… for you. “-great. She was really supportive the whole time, sometimes even making me forget she was taking shots.”

“Alert!” Tony cried out all of sudden, nearly causing Steve to jump out of his skin. “I sense romance! How’s Cap heart, Jarvis? Has the security been breached? Should we run some scans-”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve huffed in irritation, attempting to hide how precisely the billionaire hit the nail on its head.

“Awww, now he is blushing,” Natasha teased and Steve felt the heat in his cheeks burn.

“Well, luckily for him, there was a business card along with the printed photos that arrived this morning.”

Steve’s head immediately snapped Tony’s direction, curious and excited. You left a business card? That was—it probably didn’t mean anything along the lines he wished, but still!

The billionaire held out the simple creamy-coloured item between two fingers, but quickly snatched it away when Steve reached for it. Steve shot him a murderous glare. Dammit man-child!

“Full story or you’re not getting any, pun intended.”

“Oh, go to hell, Stark-”

“Come on, Stark. We all know he has some work ethics unlike you. Let him start a thing before you interrogate him. Plus, if he’s got a phone number from a hot girl for the free work he did, good for him. Give him the card,” Natasha supported the poor blond and Tony rolled his eyes before shooting the Widow a look of betrayal. Sam just chuckled at their antics. Steve snatched the card before they could change their mind, while Natasha smiled behind her cup. “We expect a full report later though.”

She exchanged a high-five with Sam under the bar, but Steve was too busy examining the card and having his heart beating incredibly fast to feel exasperated at his childish friends.

As he flipped the card in his fingers, he felt a wide smile spread his lips at their own accord.

If you ever need another photoshoot or anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. xxx

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

S.R. masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

Link to the inspiration post will be in reblog!

What can I say to my defence? I just really like making Steve happy, okay?

And yeah, the 2016 FILA is perfect too, but this fic is a result of a suggestion of a friend and babyface CE is more Steve, what can I say…

196 notes · View notes

stusbunker · 3 years

Text

AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls for all her help on this series.

Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement.

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards.

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job.

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls.

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes.

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion.

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?"

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer.

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash.

“Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

“Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

“You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

“It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically.

“Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

“That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

“Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

“You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in.

Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

“Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

“Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot.

“You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry.

“Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly.

“Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel.

The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo.

“Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs.

“Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

“We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

“What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas’s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

“True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

“We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

“I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

“Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

“Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?”

“Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

“I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

“I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

“You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

“You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

“It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered.

Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

“Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

“Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

“And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

“We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

“I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw.

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in.

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

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