#'it's canon now' yeah sure is buddy

[billiewena]

HELLO??????? (x)

[sunforgrace]

he sat there on the ground and cried. for cas. cas told him he loved him was taken away and he buried his head in his hands and wept

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Do you think Home and Bardaby would end up- if not friends than at least allies eventually in your fantasy au? I think it would be a real shame if Wally's best friend & his patron couldn't find some common ground. Maybe they could both keep an eye on Wally for each other? I know Home is literally Always There with him, but there are some human(puppet?) issues that an elder god just wouldn't really get. idk, I just think it's a bit of a shame that they don't get along, since Barnaby's the only other person besides Wally to actually interact with home in the original ARG.

oh no yeah! they do Eventually! it just takes a while and some work. Home in this au is pretty protective of Wally for Reasons, and it takes a lot to make them go "hey, you're chill. i like you". unfortunately Barn is also protective (not nearly to Home's extent but yk) so they naturally clash where they should get along

i have the full process In My Mind but essentially: Home, if given express permission, can "possess" Wally (put in quotes bc technically Wally is already possessed by them). this happens either when Wally wants a fucking break / is overwhelmed and wants Home to take the wheel (Wally's consciousness is kinda 'turned off' - it falls into a deep sleep!), or if Home does Wally a favor - they trade the favor for a set amount of possession time. because Home would like to have a body & make the decisions from time to time <3

during one of these "Home has the wheel" periods, i imagine that some shit goes down that forces Barnaby & Home to work together w/o a mediator. and during this time they're trying to get through this while keeping Wally's body relatively unharmed - Barnaby experiences a nice disconnect of "this is Wally but its also not Wally & its also a being i don't like very much bc its a dick-". but through the power for Forced Interaction, they realize that yeah, they have common ground, but they're also not too bad :]. catch Wally taking the wheel and being perplexed at how Barnaby is all "hey say hi to Home for me!" or asking for Home's opinion on things.

[honorarybuckley]

..

[charliemwrites]

Good morning! This is just a warm up, not canon to the series.

Anyway — bark, woof, awoo

It’s a cool fall day when you nearly die.

Johnny’s run off into the woods barking - not his scary bark but his excited bark. You’re worried that he’s gonna get his teeth in some poor local wildlife and go hurrying after him, boots unlaced.

Of course it’s hopeless to go chasing after a wolf-dog even running at half speed, but you can’t stand the thought of him coming home with a dead bunny or something. So off you go, clomping through the trees, calling for your big dumb fluffy butt to come home.

But it’s not your Johnny that comes trotting out of the trees. No, it’s an even bigger, wolfier looking dog. Creamy white fur, honey gold eyes, and odd black markings around the face like a skull. You instantly know he’s not like your goofball, a little less human-friendly, perhaps more feral. Looks at you like he’s trying to decide if you’d make a decent meal.

Is someone breeding them and just.., letting them out?? Some weird poorly thought out attempt to reintroduce wolves to the UK? The thought makes you frown, praying that you won’t come out here one day to find some poor pups struggling in the wilderness.

For now though, you’ve got yet another gorgeous animal in front of you.

“Well, hello,” you coo, softening and smoothing your voice. His ears tick forward. “Look at you, handsome thing. Have you seen my Johnny boy?”

The dog tilts his head - your first indication that he is familiar with humans, recognizes the tone of a question. You hum.

“Alright big guy, would you like to come with me to find him or are you doing your own thing?”

He doesn’t respond (of course) except to make a little “ruff” noise. You consider him for another moment, then decide he’s not being aggressive and it’s safe to continue your search.

You turn and continue on the path, calling for Johnny. Don’t get far before your new friend sweeps in front of you, blocking the way forward. You make a noise as you stop quick, nearly losing your balance to avoid stepping on his paws.

“Oh you big jerk,” you huff. He instantly starts pushing at you, big shoulders pressing against your stomach as he shoves a big, wet nose into your neck and face, focusing on your mouth. You roll your eyes and gently push his nose away.

“Knock it off,” you grumble, trying not to laugh. “You wolves are so rude. You don’t need to do that to smell me.”

He moves on to your clothes, all the way down to your crotch. You’re ready this time though, taking a big step back and guiding his face up by the chin.

“No.”

He snorts and shakes off, looking almost annoyed.

“Oh, yeah, how dare I not let you sniff my junk?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Grow up, you big baby.”

A deep, raspy grumble starts up in his chest. You ignore him, patting at the thick muscle of his shoulder.

“Yeah yeah, you’re a big scary boy,” you joke. “Ya gonna bite me? Show me your big pretty teeth?”

When you reach for his face he takes a step back, ears flicking. Looks almost shellshocked. You finally break, giggling as you croon baby noises at him.

“Oh, poor boy, did I spook you? I’m sorry, baby. No, no you’re very scary. Very intimidating.” You start scooting around him, amused how curves around you almost like he’s afraid you’re going to touch him. “It’s okay, buddy, I just need to find my boy. I’m not out to get you.”

As if on cue, Johnny comes bursting from the trees. He barks when he sees you, then almost comes up short when he realizes the other dog is there.

You become acutely aware that you’re not all too sure how Johnny will respond to another dog - especially one so close to you given his protectiveness. You instantly move between them, calling his attention.

“There you are, Bonnie Johnny! Where have you been?! Naughty boy, you better not have eaten anything fluffy.” His ears go back, a little whine starting up. He ducks his head to let you grab at his muzzle, inspecting him for anything gross. “I do not feel like wrangling you to brush your teeth.”

Luckily, he seems clean. Whatever had him so excited, he must not have caught.

Movement behind you catches your attention, the other dog loping closer. Your eyes bounce between them, watching body language for any aggression or hostility. To your relief, Johnny seems almost excited by this new friend - the other one… well, he seems a bit more subdued, but lets Johnny lick at his chin and bump into his side.

“Okay, ready to head home, baby boy?” you ask, giving Johnny’s collar a gentle tug. “I have to start making dinner.”

He whines, turning those big blue eyes on you and positioning himself behind the other dog. You groan.

“Johnny, really… I don’t know if I can handle two of you. I don’t even think he likes me very much.”

As if to spite you, the other dog sits and leans in, licking at your hand. And damn it, it’s cute.

“Alright, hold on, let’s just see if…”

This time, the other dog lets you touch, feels around his neck for a collar that unsurprisingly isn’t there. You feel around his shoulders too, hoping for that tiny bump that means he has a microchip, but nope.

“If I have a nickel for every time I found a wolf-dog in the woods…” you sigh, turning back for home. “It would be two nickels but it’s weird that it happened twice.”

When you notice both pups stalling, you whistle sharply.

“Come. It’s getting cold.”

Johnny instantly bounds ahead with excitement while your new companion is slightly slower, staying just a bit behind and to the side of you so that you can see him from the corner of your eye.

Back at home, Johnny leads the way inside. The strange dog looks around curiously, sniffs at a few spots. It’s then that you remember Johnny marking the house his first couple days and notice that Mystery Dog is also unaltered.

“Hey.” Both dogs turn to you. You point at the new one sternly. “If you pee on anything in here - anything - I’m dying you pink. By god I’ll do it, there are dog safe hair dyes.”

You get a sneeze for that and he walks away with disinterest, but at least he keeps his leg down. You’ll take it.

Dinner is interesting, no fussing or fighting over food from either of them. When they’re done, you retire to the couch, Johnny happy to follow up until he sees that his new friend isn’t coming as well.

He starts yipping, bouncing, bowing, trying to get the new one to follow. You’re amused up until Johnny nips and the bigger dog growls, showing teeth. You plant yourself instantly between them.

“Hey.” You look the new dog in the eye, get into his space and back him away from Johnny. “No the hell you’re not.”

The new dog stares, eyes locked on yours, ears swiveling. You don’t back down, watching and looking waiting, still bodily between him and Johnny. Until finally his ears go back and he sneezes, laying down.

“Good.” You soften your voice, sigh. “Good boy.”

You offer your hand. Get a sniff and a resigned lick, then scratch at your new boy’s ears.

“You be nice, big boy. Everyone in this house is mine. I take care of everyone.”

His eyes do a weird thing then. You’re not sure how to describe it, combined with the way his head tilts. But you just chalk it up to Weird Dog Things and finally return to the couch, an oddly subdued Johnny clambering up with you.

“You can join us, honey,” you call to the other dog. “You’re welcome up here if you behave.”

He doesn’t take you up on it for awhile. You and Johnny settle in for your usual nightly shows. And then, about an hour later, movement draws your eye. The Mystery Dog, standing at the edge of the couch with his tail down, ears neutral.

Earlier drama forgotten, you smile at him.

“Hi there,” you chirp, “you want up? C’mon, bud. Up.”

He hops up with surprisingly gentleness, picking his way around your limbs and Johnny’s. He ends up crawling over your dog and settling half on top of him, and half on top of you, his chin settled between Johnny’s stupid perky ears. Johnny seems thrilled so you laugh a bit.

“What good boys,” you coo, giving them each a scratch and receiving a kiss in return. “Alright, this isn’t so bad.”

You fall asleep there, already trying to come up with name for your new pup. Maybe Phantom.

[popponn]

from the outsider's view. [itoshi sae x reader]

notes: admittedly, no braincell here only "sae unconditionally lovey dovey" thought (ft. kaiser). i miss sae. and i want him to be happy for a bit. this guy seems like when he is committed he will become the commitment itself despite everything. cute in the way the sort of type who will put in the effort and worth the effort when he is the right person. also, happy cny ❤ warnings: cursings (it's kaiser). fluff. kaiser's pov aka outsider's pov, sae & you being lovey dovey, established relationship, reader's gender unspecified, post canon au, heavy hc that sae & kaiser doesn't get along (outside of the field esp). please don't look to closely into this. @doobea thank u for betaing beloved ♡❀

By any means, it is not as if Kaiser actively tries to murder Sae every time they meet.

But it also doesn’t mean he is buddy-buddy with him either. Honestly, Kaiser hates a lot of people’s guts—Yoichi and Noa currently contending for the #1 spot, sure, but Sae is pretty close up there if he has to list them down. The reason is not particularly complicated for this one, as anyone who has met Sae would agree he is a natural at making enemies. That mid-fielder is one of those people who will do better as a human being if they shut up and not pick up a fight with each breath they take.

So, imagine his surprise to meet the redhead—with you by his side, hand in hand—during a casual outing for some convenience store snack in broad daylight.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Kaiser doesn’t waste a second to ask the moment their eyes meet each other. Kaiser really doesn’t want to have a jerk greeting him the moment he tries to get into an aisle yet here he is.

Sae squints at him in a more offensive manner than usual and then subtly—but very obvious to Kaiser’s eye—pushes you slightly behind his back as if Kaiser might do something to you. Which is wrong—even if Kaiser is very aware he is not the shining beacon of goodness. “Shopping, clearly. What else?”

“Someone you know, Sae?” your voice asks from behind your assumed-boyfriend. Kaiser glances slightly at the blatantly color-coordinated casual clothes. Disgusting. Definitely a boyfriend then. “Oh! Is that Michael Kaiser?”

Kaiser raises an eyebrow as he meets your gleaming eyes. He certainly didn’t expect Itoshi Fucking Sae’s partner to acknowledge him with such enthusiasm. He expected someone who is more or less as bitchy as bitchy as the guy. A smile that has been trained for PR events forms itself on Kaiser’s face, “Why, hello—”

“It’s not,” Sae quickly cuts in. “Just some bugs. Let’s just get the drink and go.”

Fucking Sae.

“Now, now,” Kaiser sneers, his grin widening into an irritated smirk as he approaches closer towards Sae. Said dickhead responds by tugging you closer to him. Sae better be one of those types of unreasonably cutesy protective boyfriends or Kaiser might actually start taking offenses and maim him for real. “Is that a way to greet ‘a friend’, Sae? And—” Kaiser moves on to you, “—hello there.”

The quotation mark hangs heavily in the air. Sae scoffs while you finally get the chance to address Kaiser’s existence politely and introduce yourself, “Hello! Nice to meet you!”

How the fuck did someone who knows basic manners end up with Sae? Kaiser genuinely wants to know if you got paid for this or something. He will ask if it’s not for the fact Sae seems to be itching to claw the hell out of his face. Kaiser really doesn’t want to get lectured for a public incident if he actually gives in to the urge to sock Sae’s resting bitch face. So, instead, he keeps his focus on you even while keeping his sentence directed to you both, “I didn’t expect to see you here. Thought Sae is allergic to store-bought products.”

You laugh at that, whilst Sae sends you a sharp glare—that has a hint of besotted lovesick gaze in it what the fuck—that you promptly ignore in favor of answering Kaiser instead. “Yeah, he is a bit nosy sometimes, huh?” you muse fondly, “But he is open to some products, thankfully.”

Sae pipes in, “Hey.”

“Come on, it’s true,” you reply shortly. As your eyes meet Sae, the besotted lovesick gaze returns, this time reciprocated by your equally lovelorn affectionate one. Kaiser really doesn’t want to see this.

“Hmph,” Sae breathes out like some grumpy mangy cat. Then, as if he truly is some kitty raising up its fur and tail, Sae returns his glare to Kaiser. The way one of Sae’s hand wrap around your shoulder to press you close doesn’t escape Kaiser’s eyes. And the most annoying thing is perhaps the way that it evidently isn’t like Sae deliberately shows it to him like some territorial jealous dickhead. It’s like watching someone taking in a breath and that breath is some lovey-dovey fuckery. “We are going. Let’s go.”

As much as Kaiser wants to make Sae suffer a little bit more via playfully flirting with you or something, being a third wheel to the elder Itoshi sounds so awful it’s not even worth trying. Next time the two Itoshis duke it out by being on the opposite team, Kaiser genuinely considers rooting for the younger one just so he can see Sae fail. And also out of some twisted camaraderie because imagining being a witness to this frequently—one really either builds up some immunity or turns insane.

The sort of guy who casually must touch his lover all the time is unbearable to watch.

So, good fucking riddance.

“Shoo,” Kaiser waves Sae away. And the way you look at Sae like the redhead is the most wonderful man alive lowers Kaiser’s opinion of you enough for that wave to be directed at you too. Get a better taste.

You laugh nervously at their brief exchange as Sae drags you away. Kaiser too shifts his attention away from you. Unfortunately, turns out—fuck him—it isn’t enough to escape the barely audible whispers Sae shares with you as the two of you walk away from the aisle.

“You should be nicer. He is still someone you know.”

“He touched Isagi’s chin on their first meeting to fuck around—I’m not taking chances with that shithole.”

“Aw. I don’t think he will—he seems very aware I’m with you.”

“That guy is insane and it’s better to be ready to kick his dick when you have to. Don’t be too friendly with him next time.”

God. Kaiser wishes for a match with Sae soon just so he can duke it out with him without any repercussions.

[beskarandblasters]

hey! could you please write a dom! joel edging fic? thanks! love your writing sm!

Playing With Fire

Dad's Best Friend!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Author's note: Hope it's okay I decided to do a dbf spin on this!!

Summary: You and your dad go over to his best friend's (and also your secret boyfriend) Joel's house to watch the University of Texas Longhorns game. Whenever your dad isn't looking you tease Joel relentlessly. But when your dad passes out on the couch drunk that's when Joel decides to punish you.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, no outbreak, established secret relationship, drinking, age gap (unspecified), groping, teasing, edging, orgasm denial, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n

Ugh, football, you think to yourself. 

Your dad dragged you into watching football tonight and you’re not enthused to say the least. He pulls into Joel’s street and you let out a sigh. You couldn’t care less about the Longhorns game. 

“C’mon, honey! It’ll be so much fun!”

“Yeah, for you. I’m not into football.”

“Yeah but you like Joel! You’ll have fun with us.”

Your cheeks go hot at his name. You do like Joel, just not in the way your dad thinks. You and Joel have been sneaking around behind your dad’s back for months now and he couldn’t be none the wiser. And while you’re definitely happy to see Joel tonight even if it’s in the presence of your father, you’re not looking forward to football. 

Your dad pulls into Joel’s driveway and you get out his truck, dragging your feet to the front door. Joel greets you at the door with a beer in his hand and cheerily shouts, “Let’s go Longhorns!”

You roll your eyes and walk past him into the house.

“Yeah she’s not very excited,” your dad says, following you inside. 

“Oh she’ll love football by the time the game is over. I’m sure of it.”

You head into the kitchen and open the fridge, turning to call over your shoulder, “You bet!” sarcastically before scanning the shelves for a drink… And all he has is beer of course. You reluctantly grab two for you and your dad and head back into the living room, sitting on the couch between Joel and your father. Joel flips through TV channels and your dad stands up and says, “I’m gonna take a leak before the game starts.”

Joel nods in acknowledgement and finds the correct channel. And you’re bored already and the game hasn’t even started. So your mind immediately jumps to something fun; teasing Joel. 

As soon as you hear the bathroom door close you reach over and graze your hand over the bulge in his jeans. His breath hitches at your touch and he turns and glares at you, shooting daggers with his eyes.

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” he angrily whispers.

“Aw, come on. I wanna have a little fun.”

“You’re playin’ with fire there, darlin’,” he mutters.

You unzip the fly on his jeans and grope his cock over his boxers, pre cum already marking a stain on the fabric. You palm his cock until you hear the toilet flush. And before you could continue any further, Joel forcefully grabs your hand, places it back in your lap and zips his fly.

“Enough,” he says darkly. 

Your dad comes back into the living room and sits on the couch just as the game starts, suspecting nothing as usual. And just as you suspected it’s so fucking boring. Anytime your dad would get up to grab a beer you would return your hand to Joel’s groin despite his burning stare every time you would do it. Finally after your dad got up to get his fifth beer you went to return your hand to its rightful spot. But Joel grabs your wrist and says through gritted teeth, “Playin’. With. Fire.”

You sigh and roll your eyes, returning to leaning on the arm of the couch. Your dad gets back and downs his last beer. And not before long… he passes out completely. The game isn’t even over yet.

“Well would ya look at that. Your football buddy passed out drunk. Guess you don’t have to watch the game anymore…” you say snarkily, inching your hand towards his jeans again. 

He grabs your wrist again and forcefully drags you from the couch and down the hallway, leading you to his bedroom. Excitement pools in your stomach at the prospect of fucking Joel but also some fun finally. He opens his bedroom door and pulls you inside, shoving you down on the bed. Your face is graced with a wide smirk as he closes the door and stands in front of you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” he threatens.

“Or else what?” you counter.

“Or you’ll regret it.”

“Make me.”

He falls to his knees on the floor right in front of your legs. He spreads your thighs apart and snakes a hand up your skirt, hooking your underwear around his fingers and pulling them off forcefully. Your sex tingles in anticipation of his touch.

“I bet you want me to fuck you so bad,” he teases.

“Mhm,” you say confidently. 

“Well, too bad. Ain’t happenin’ for a while.”

You whine and he continues, “And your whinin’ ain’t gonna help.”

He brings his fingers to your cunt, which is already getting wet, and runs a finger up and down your entrance. He pulls his hand back and licks his fingers before rubbing his thumb around your clit. You moan at his touch and he says, “Better be quiet. Your dad’s just down the hallway, darlin’.”

You groan as his thumb picks up the pace on your clit. You can already feel yourself arriving on the brink of orgasm. Your back arches slightly and just as you think you’re about to cum, Joel pulls his hand away much to your dismay, chuckling at the look of betrayal on your face.

“Joel, please,” you whine.

“Gonna be doing a whole lotta beggin’, darlin’. Get used to it.”

You whine again but it’s cut off by Joel pushing a finger into you. He curls his singular digit upwards against your walls. You grip the sheets for purchase as he works your cunt closer to the edge. Your walls tighten up and just when you think you’re about to cum again he pulls away. You whine and beg some more while Joel looks at you with the hungriest expression in his eyes, like he’s getting off on your frustration. Actually, you know he is. 

This time he goes nuclear, sliding two fingers in and bringing his tongue to your clit. Your hands grip his hair as he fucks your cunt with his fingers and licks your sensitive bundle of nerves. The muscles in your core tighten in anticipation of a large release and if Joel takes this one away from you again you’re going to be heartbroken. You’re so close, teetering on the edge of orgasm and getting ready to soak his face. But just as you suspected, he pulls away when he feels you on the edge.

“Joel, please,” you beg, tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

“How bad do you wanna cum?”

“So bad, Joel. I’m begging you, please,” you cry out. 

“Hmm, I guess you’ve been a good girl. Bend over.” 

You couldn’t get up fast enough, scrambling to flip over for him. You bend yourself over on the bed and arch your back for him. He stands behind you and squeezes your ass while he gives his cock a few strokes. He gathers some of your wetness on his hand and slicks his cock with it. He hooks his hands on your hips and pushes into you forcefully, expanding your walls in one swift motion. You cry out at the new found size inside you and he clamps a hand over your mouth.

“What did I say?” he reminds you.

You nod silently and he slowly removes his hand from your mouth and returns it to your hips. He pulls you into him as he thrusts back into you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix with each movement from him. And thanks to all of the edging earlier you’re already so sensitive; so close.

“J-Joel, can I please cum?” you beg in a hushed tone. 

“Well since you asked so nicely, I guess,” he says, slamming his hips into you on the last word.

You come undone around him, your walls convulsing his cock like a vice. You do your best to control your moans but it’s hard. Especially after an orgasm that was a long way in the making. He doesn’t bother covering your mouth again as he cums, keeping the tip of his cock nestled by your cervix and his grips on your hips tight as he releases his load into you. He pulls out after he’s done and before either of you have time to say anything you hear your dad groaning from the living room. You spring up and turn to face Joel with wide eyes.

“Shit! What do we-”

“Quick, go in the bathroom and pretend you’re throwin’ up. I’ll say ya drank too much.”

You nod and head into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, starting to fix yourself up. You hear him call to your dad down the hallway, “Yeah she’s throwin’ up. Guess she can’t handle her alcohol. Must get that from you.”

That little shit. Whatever, at least you got out of watching football for the night. 

[teardrop-scales]

Hi I have a request! How about a love potion one shot or head canon with lmk Wukong and fem (s/o)? Please and thank u 🙏🏻

Love potion: Sun Wukong x reader headcannons 🧪

A.N: I decided to do this in a headcannon format, but more story-driven one, and I actually changed your request a bit so Wukong and reader aren't a couple yet in this. Hope that's okay!

You were having a peaceful afternoon after your early morning shift at work when MK called you.

You were surprised at this; you knew he was supposed to be training with your friend/crush Wukong and usually that made him quite busy and unreachable. So you knew that something must've happened.

When you picked up the phone , it turned out that The Monkey King himself somehow accidentally drank a love potion that he had in his stash of artifacts and other useless things.

MK wasn't exactly sure how the potion worked; on the bottle it was only written that, thankfully, the effects last only for a day or so, and the poor kid couldn't exactly ask his mentor about it right now. Besides, you were sure that Wukong wouldn't know even in the right/normal state of mind.

According to MK, the monkey acted somewhat normal for a few minutes, until he saw you in the photo he had of you two stashed somewhere. Then the potion truly started to kick in. At least that's what you think happened, provided you understood MK's frantic explanation correctly.

And to summarize, the boy wanted you to take care of Wukong for a bit until the potion stopped working, since the monkey was apparently constantly bugging him about wanting to see you. You could even hear Monkey King gushing about you and cutting in through MK's phone "to say hi".

You kinda feared what it would be like. You just hoped he wouldn't be too overbearing and that you won't explode from flusteredness, given you had a crush on Monkey King and thanks to the potion, he was in love with YOU of all people.

But you knew that MK had to go to his afternoon shift at Pigsy's, and Wukong couldn't be left alone in this state, so of course you agreed.

So in a short amount of time MK was standing in front of your apartment door with the Monkey King behind him. The boy thanked you once again and then he was gone. Leaving you alone with your lovesick crush.

His eyes were much wider than normal, and there was a slight pink gleam in them. He also had a wide smile on his face, his tail swishing behind him. Basically all the signs that he was happy.

"Peaches, I'm so glad to see you!"

He exclaimed in a much more higher pitched and cheerful voice than normally before crushing you in a hug.

"Yeah, good to see you too, Wukong" You replied and awkwardly reciprocated the hug, while Sun buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent.

Overall Wukong was much more cheerful, talkative and emotional than normal under the effect of the potion.

After the hug he started asking you a ton of questions, like, how was your day? How are you feeling today? No demon tried to attack you since he last saw you, right? Etc.

You also noticed that he called you 'Peaches' a lot. Of course, sometimes he did call you that before the potion, but only sometimes and he always acted like that was a slip up. He usually calls you by your name or similarly to MK, 'bud'/'buddy', maybe 'pal' sometimes.

To be honest, you weren't sure what to do with Wukong and how to keep him busy and not bored until the potion stopped working. So you suggested watching a movie.

And of course, probably 'cause of his lovesick state, he chose a romantic comedy...

It's not like you've never watched that kind of movie with him before, you actually did - you both liked to make fun of the characters and point out the corny and cringy aspects of the movies, but this time Wukong was really invested in a way he never was before.

The second you both sat on your couch, the monkey clung to you, hugging and cuddling you like a teddy bear. He was so close it was impossible for him to be any closer to you. Wukong pressed his furred cheek against yours and curled up to your side, his tail curling around your ankle.

Meanwhile you just sat there, inwardly screaming and having a panic attack at how close and intimate he was right now, and how much you liked it and secretly wished he wouldn't let go. And he didn't for the whole movie, being too invested in it to notice or care about you blushing.

This time he also made comments during the movie (that's just the way he is, sometimes he just can't keep completely quiet for that long), but not snarky/mocking ones. Instead he kept staring at the screen with sparkles in his eyes each time the characters did something which could be considered "romantic" and saying something along the lines of "Ooh, that is so romantic! Wouldn't it be nice if we did something like that, Peaches?" Or change his mood completely and ask with a smug expression "Soo, what did you think? What would YOU think if SOMEONE did something like this for YOU?"

Summarizing, he was VERY subtle...

You tried to answer both honestly and nice enough not to hurt his feelings. But, truth be told, you lied a few times so he wouldn't feel bad/hurt. You felt slightly guilty about lying to your friend/crush, even about such stupid things. Oh well, if you're lucky, Wukong won't remember any of this.

To be honest, you were thankful that this whole love potion experience took a pretty lovey-dovey route and not... Y'know, the more suggestive and lustful one? Because when it comes to Wukong it sometimes could be both. It probably also depended on the potion itself.

So yeah, you were grateful that the most he did was throw a more suggestive comment with this smug face of his here and there.

After the movie ended, you figured it was a good time for dinner.

Right after you started getting off the couch and out of Wukong's grasp, he asked with a pouty tone where were you going.

"I'm just going to the kitchen to make pancakes for dinner. With peaches~" You added in a sing-songy voice. You knew how much your monkey friend loved those fruits, so you always made sure to have some at your house just in case.

"Oh!" Wukong's face lit up slightly at the mention of his favorite fruits. "You don't have to get up though! I can make the pancakes with no problem, you don't have to do anything, in fact, you don't even have to get off the couch! I'll do everything for you, no biggie. You must be so tired after your morning shift today, Peaches! Besides, I'm a pro at cooking!"

You barely managed to hide a snort after his last sentence. It was endearing that he wanted to spoil you and do things so you wouldn't have to but he definitely wasn't a pro at cooking. You taught him some basics and thanks to that The Monkey King was able to cook simple dishes so they were actually edible. But not much more than that.

However, you agreed for two reasons: one, so you wouldn't hurt his feelings (it was so cute how his eyes and entire face shined and how bright his smile was when you said "okay"), and two; you were quite curious how this would turn out.

"Okay, but call me if you need help."

"You're so sweet, Peaches! But that won't be necessary."

After that Wukong went to the kitchen.

In short, it turned out that Sun mistook powdered sugar for flour, so the pancakes were... Quite a disaster, honestly.

You had to console the poor Monkey for a few minutes, because he felt like he failed and disappointed you. He was practically close to tears (that potion really did make him much more emotional, huh?)

He only cheered up after you suggested ordering something from Pigsy's. And of course, being the gentleman he suddenly became thanks to the potion, he insisted he should be the one to make the call. You could imagine that the pig wasn't very happy to hear him, but nonetheless after some time your order arrived with MK to your door.

"So, how is he?" Asked the teen. "I hope he was... Umm... Well behaved?"

"He was actually. It's just that he's much more cheerful and emotional than normal." You chuckled.

After that you invited MK inside, since he just ended his shift while bringing your and Wukong's order.

You and your crush ate your dishes and MK ate some chips you had in the kitchen. Meanwhile Wukong kept gushing about you to the teen, making you very flustered and flattered at the same time.

"I just love you Peaches so much!" Happily exclaimed Wukong at one moment.

Then a small, quiet gasp escaped your lips. Oh, how much you wished he truly meant those words. But you knew that this was just the potion talking, sadly.

After that MK suggested he should take Wukong back to the Flower Fruit Mountain since he ended his shift now.

Unfortunately, Sun heard that and he wasn't pleased. He immediately embraced you and squished you tightly against himself and kept saying how he needed to stay to protect you from demons or burglars breaking into your house. And also claiming that he doesn't want to be alone and that he had such a good time with you, so he didn't want it to end. Wukong was pretty much like an emotional child thanks to the potion at that moment. MK tried to pry him off you, but to no avail.

You had to promise Wukong that he could come over the next day in order for him to let you go and calm down.

Finally Sun agreed to go with MK, but not before hugging you tightly once more, kissing your cheek and saying "Love you, Peaches!".

You couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief when Monkey King left with his successor. This was an interesting experience, but it was quite tiring too. You also had many complicated emotions after this and needed a lot of time to process them. All of this just made you realize how hopeless you were in your crush on Monkey King himself and, how badly you wanted him to truly love you.

Later, in the evening, you suddenly grew curious about the love potion which your friend drank. So you decided to call Tang to check if he knew something about it; after all, who else could have such knowledge if not him?

"A love potion you say? Hmm... Well I do recall hearing some myth about some deity or someone who wanted to invent a potion which could make people fall in love. They kind of succeeded, but actually later it turned out that the potion didn't create those feelings from scratch."

"What do you mean?" You had a feeling where this was going, but you needed a clear confirmation.

"In order for the potion to work, the person who drank it had to already have some feelings for someone. The potion just caused those feelings to grow abnormally stronger and made the drinker more emotional, confident and bold about their feelings. Umm, but why are you asking?"

You were flabbergasted. Could it be...? "Oh, it's nothing, I was just curious. Thanks Tang, I have to go now, bye!" After that you ended the call, not even letting the scholar say goodbye.

That meant that Sun Wukong, aka The Monkey King himself had a crush on YOU. A REAL CRUSH. SINCE WHEN?! How long was he hiding it? Either you were really dense and oblivious or he was really good at hiding his true feelings. Honestly, it was hard to determine which was true in that situation.

For a solid minute you just sat there with your mouth open. Your mind literally screamed "error". Then you suddenly squealed like a teenage girl, jumped in the air and said "YES!"

Well. It seemed like you needed to have a little chat with Wukong.

[livelaughloveloak]

𓂅 WISHUROSES ⊰ 🎡

𖦹 pairing : earth1610!miles morales x reader

𖦹 summary : random scenarios and headcanons of miles as your boyfriend

𖦹 author's note : y'all I'm literally running out of ideas so I would appreciate it if you guys sent me some requests 😭 btw this isn't proofread

you and him definitely have a snapstreak but it was on accident. he randomly snapped you and you'd snap him back on a daily so now you two are just stuck with a 200+ snapstreak.

he bought you a Polaroid camera for your birthday and you ended up using up most of the film on him.

you have the pictures up on the board hanging up in your room

HE'S A COMPLETE SWEET HEARTTTT through actions or through text he'll show his love for you either way.

you pulled back from the tight hug miles pulled you into and looked up at his face. "miles you have that smug look on your face again." you poked his cheek and laughed. miles gasped and was quick to defend himself although he was in fact smiling like an idiot. "I do not!!"

if he's not busy with spiderman business, school, family problems, or hanging out with you then he's busy texting you instead.

he might go to an advanced private school but he refuses to write sentences properly.

you'd receive messages from him like these

inaminit

whaddup

nuhuh

luv u

wya?

he'll abuse the living hell out of emojis when texting you

"yup 😎😎😎😎😎😎💪💪💪"

"wdym no ☹️☹️😒😒🤨🤨🤨"

omw Mami 😋😋😋🤟🏿🤟🏿🤟🏿🤟🏿🤟🏿🤟🏿

he'll ask you for help when it's washday for his hair. his scalp is sensitive so you make sure to be extra careful

he has your contact saved as mi alma. one time his mom saw the contact name pop up on his phone and questioned him about it. he freaked out and started blabbering nonsense

he tells you stories about his adventures when his uncle aaron was still alive.

he has a picture of you as his wallpaper and a pic of you guys together as his lockscreen

he draws you two matching pfps

will definitely give you a new drawing everytime he can

was sweating bullets when he finally revealed to you that he was spiderman.

the pressure was quickly lifted off of his shoulders once you said that you accepted him and understood.

he's still scared that you'd be his canon event and swears he'll never let you die

"even if I have to destroy this universe as long as you're alive I'll be alright." you pinched his cheek and smiled. "don't be silly miles" a groan escaped his mouth as you giggled. "mami stopppp I'm being serious right now."

he let's you win in games just to see you happy but if it's basketball he's not gonna hold back 😭🙏

has his face buried in your neck while sleeping. he says it's because "I'm cold and you just happen to be warm" but yet again it's the middle of summer.

will be jumping up and down our of joy when you bought him new Jordans for his birthday

he has a bracelet with your name engraved into it and he wears it proudly

his phone album is filled with pictures of you. you and him fight eachother whenever you catch him trying to take a candid 0.5 picture of you

he 100% calls you "my heart"

says the most old man type of comebacks when playfully arguing with you

"yeah well you can go kick rocks!!"

"boohoo buckaroo"

"too bad so sad"

"nuh uh" or in other times "yuh huh"

"whatever pal"

"listen here buddy"

you two wear matching pajamas when you have sleepovers

don't get me started on this man and saying the "rizz" jokes...

"rizzanator is what I am"

"let's have a rizz off"

"call me the rizzmaster"

he'll airdrop you the most random memes and burst out laughing when seeing your reaction

he gifted you a promise ring with both of your initials engraved into it as an anniversary gift

miles won you a teddy bear in a fair and now you both call it your "child"

don't expect to get a warning because miles will randomly FaceTime you out of nowhere.

he'd give you a spiderman suit so you could match with him

when you first met his mom she liked you without hesitation and asked to take a picture with you. she made miles take the picture 😭

overall a sweet guy and will give you the princess treatment you deserve!!

﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉﹉

July 4, 2023 | All rights reserved to @livelaughloveloak • Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own. ✮

art in the polaroids are made by purpletunabread on twitter and koscribbls on instagram

[livingemkayde]

ch ii. wild things

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller

chapter two of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. kissing. mentions of sexual situations. bit of a love triangle forming. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake). no use of y/n!

a/n: wowza!! after careful consideration i am definitely making this into a series due to all the requests and comments in my inbox!! thanks for all the love on chaser and on my dbf!joel series which you can find all the parts to here. i love u all so much. i had a bit of an idea to write joel x reader mixed with one sided tommy x reader so this will evolve into that. who knows what will happen!! haha….

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

You watch his hands on the steering wheel. His thick fingers flicker on the settings for the radio, or tap on the top of the wheel when you stop at a red light.  It’s intoxicating. He’s intoxicating.  But you already knew that.  “You can’t be starin’ at me like that in the house.”  You blush, snapping out of your dream-like haze. 

For a split second, it does cross your mind to turn around and run away. 

But you’re already here. Joel is looking at you, mouth agape — you’re sure you look the same, if not worse. The little girl standing next to Joel giggles at you, smiling. 

Fuck. 

“Hi,” you say, breathless. You aren’t sure if you’re talking to her or Joel.

 But she squeaks a small hi, reaches for your hand, and pulls you into the house. 

You look up at him as you pass, he sucks in a breath and for a haste second, his eyes glance down towards your chest. Your movements feel slowed as you pass him. Like a scene from a movie — not unlike the feeling you had when you first bumped into him. You look up at him, a worried look fretted on your brow as he closes the door behind you. 

She drops your hand and sits on the couch, Joel sits next to her, you on a love chair across from them. 

It's quiet. 

Way too quiet for what’s supposed to be an interview. 

Joel keeps sending fleeting glances at you like he’s scared of what will happen if he meets your eye for more than two seconds. 

“So…You’re — uh —” he starts, but doesn’t really know how to finish.

“Yeah,” you say for him. He looks back at you, his mouth slightly agape. Joel shakes his head like he’s trying to snap himself out of it. 

“This is Sarah. She’s seven,” he looks down towards her, she looks at you with big brown eyes. Not unlike the one’s attached to the man sitting on the couch beside her. 

“Hi there,” you smile at her. 

“Hi,” she says, her dangling feet swinging off the couch. “You’re really pretty,” she says, shy. 

“Why thank you,” you say, acting flushed. “You’re gorgeous yourself.” 

Sarah blushes. You look at Joel and he stares back. A couple beats of silence and your hands start sweating. 

“Yeah, so I guess I’m your nine a.m,” you say with a breathy chuckle, talking to Joel now — referring to the interview appointment. 

“Guess so,” he says, his southern drawl overtaking his voice. He looks at you with eyes that show a curious emotion. You wonder what he’s thinking. But most of all, you wonder how long this — now ridiculous — interview is gonna take before he tells you to leave. 

So much for a good fuck buddy. 

“I—” he shakes his head again. “Sorry, how old are you?” 

“I’m twenty-three.” 

You are almost certain he swears under his breath. 

“Right,” he says when Sarah gives him a funny look. You had put that on your resume that you submitted a week ago. 

“College grad, or somethin’,” he says, pulling in a sharp breath at the words — and the realization. 

“Yeah — uh — english.” 

“Do you like books?” Sarah cuts into the tension, but she’s oblivious to the heat rising off your cheeks. 

“Love them,” you smile at her, looking around, seeing a children's book on the coffee table separating you. 

Where the Wild Things Are

You smile to yourself. 

“Do you like reading, Sarah?” 

She nods with a grin. 

“I would love to take you down to the library. They’ve got all the books you can imagine,” you say, smiling. 

She giggles and looks up to her dad with pleading eyes. 

You’re not sure why you’re trying so hard to get this kid to like you but after last night, you aren’t really sure about anything anymore. 

You can hear Sarah mumble into Joel’s ear. 

Please, dad? I like her. The lady from yesterday was old.

His eyes cut to yours, and back down to the little girl whispering in his ear. You look around the house nervously. The Carhartt jacket that you distinctly remember from last night is draped on a chair in the kitchen. 

Joel clears his throat, and to everyone in the room’s surprise, extends his hand. He looks a bit scared, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t terrified. But he utters those words in that drawl and you know you’re done for. Like all those hours before in the bar, then in the bathroom, and after that too when he slipped his name and number into your phone. 

“You’re hired.”

You try to reason with yourself in the split second before you extend your hand to meet him. 

Good pay. Sweet kid. Dad who you already fucked. 

It might not be the worst thing — but it certainly doesn’t reign best in your mind. You take his hand after a beat. Your sweaty palm connects with his sturdy one. He gives you one shake and then drops your fingers. Sarah smiles up at you, you anxiously smile back. Joel gives you a gruff look that makes your pulse race.

“When can you start?” He asks after a few seconds. 

“Tomorrow,” you say, maybe a bit too hastily, calming yourself down you reutter, “Tomorrow.” 

“Alright, well… come ‘round eight. I gotta get to work tomorrow,” he stands, you follow him to the door, he mumbles to Sarah to play with some toys while you talk. 

The cool morning air hits your face when he closes the door behind you. You stand face to face, shy eyes bending through the silence from both of you. 

“I—” you stifle an awkward laugh, “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t have come if I’d known, obviously.” 

“Right,” he agrees, looking down at his feet. 

“We can…this can be —” another awkward laugh, “like this okay? Right?” 

“Right,” Joel echoes while sending you a curt nod.  

God, it's like pulling teeth. 

“Look, I’m sorry — we can forget about it, if this is like —” 

“No,” he shakes his head, looking up at you, his brown eyes reflecting sunlight. You didn’t remember his eyes looking like that. But it was dark and you were drunk. 

“It’ll be fine…‘s’alright,” Joel assures, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. 

 “Are you sure? I don’t wanna —” 

“I’m sure,” he chuckles. You catch a glint of the guy from last night — who managed to charm his way into your pants in under ten minutes. He surprised you then, and doesn’t fail to surprise you now. 

“Sarah likes you, so…” you raise your brows at his words, he continues. 

“Been havin’ a tough time findin’ someone she likes, and I have t’work,” he breathes out through stiff lips. 

“I understand.” 

You find yourself asking more, even though it might not be the best idea. But like you thought last night — this guy is intriguing — and getting a glimpse into his life even if you both weren’t ready for it might not be the worst thing. 

“What do you do?” you ask, shy. 

“I — uh — I’m a contractor.” 

You don’t really know much about contracting so you fall short with a reply. 

But he fills the silence. 

“I work with my brother. He’s… he lives not too far away. You’ll probably meet him tomorrow,” he says, arms crossing over his chest. 

“Sounds good,” you say, crossing your own arms, your thin sweater not doing much to protect you from the morning dew.

Joel looks towards the street and furrows his brow. 

“Where do you live?” he asks, blunt. 

Your eyes widen in shock. 

“Jesus — I —” he shakes his head, his fingers pinching his nose bridge. “I just — you don’t have a car, m’sorry,” he looks out towards the empty street. 

“Just…wonderin’ if you needed a ride.” 

And so, the gentleman from last night appears just when you thought this might be hopeless. 

“Oh car’s back at the house — I walked — I actually live like four blocks over on Anderson,” you jut with your thumb in the direction of your childhood home — your parents are letting you stay there while they’re on vacation for the summer. 

“Didn’t know we lived so close,” you note to no one in particular, just speaking aloud. 

“You’re in between me ‘n Tommy,” he says, his voice hoarse. 

Jesus. 

“What?” 

“My brother,” 

This small talk is getting awkward. 

“Oh…right, well — cool. All close together,” you say, pulling a smile even though you feel immensely uncomfortable right now. 

“Yeah,” he echoes. “Cool.” 

“So I’m gonna…” you nod your head to the direction of your house. It looks like that shakes him out of this trance of tension you both were put in together. 

“Yeah, right.”

A goodbye is braced on your lips but you hesitate. 

Mr. Miller? 

Joel? 

Maybe you were better off not calling him anything. 

Especially since the last time you were saying the name ‘Joel’ he was asking you to beg for his cock. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you settle for, stepping off his porch, while looking back at him. 

“Yup,” Joel replies, bluntly, “See you tomorrow.” 

_

On your walk over the next morning, you settle into a quiet stroll. 

It’s early, the birds are chirping and the dew from the young morning seeps into your skin, making your hair a bit damp and frizzy, but you don’t mind. 

You didn’t have much time to look around when you were walking to your interview yesterday. 

Honestly, you’ve never taken a good look at your neighborhood, especially this area. Your whole life you’d been driven around by your parents, never stopping to take in the scenery. 

Austin is amazing in the summer. You don’t mind the heat, you welcome it — the sun feels good on your back when you walk over. 

You see a black pick-up truck pull into Joel’s driveway as you round the corner and make your way down the street. 

A man steps out, he’s young — younger than Joel — but you can see the resemblance. You suspect this is the ‘Tommy’ Joel had mentioned yesterday. 

You break into a soft jog to greet him before he walks into the house. 

“Hey,” you say, somewhat breathless. He stares back at you with a confused look on his face. 

“I — uh — I’m Sarah’s new babysitter,” you say while extending your hand. 

He takes it, the recognition of your title sinking in — a smile is brought to his face — it lights up the entire area. 

“Oh — right. Joel said somethin’ ‘bout the babysitter coming this mornin’,” he shakes your hand, its soft grip squeezes yours once and then lets you go. “I’m Tommy, Sarah’s uncle.” 

“Yes — Joel said you guys work together.” 

“Yeah, that’s right,” he says, chuckling. You smile back at him. 

He looks down and sees your bag slung over your shoulder. 

“Let me get that for you,” he says, reaching down to grab the strap of your bag and slipping it off your arm. 

“Oh — thanks,” you try to hide your blush as you follow Tommy to the front door. 

“No problem,” he mumbles, stepping onto the porch, in a light jog, you follow after. 

The door opens before you reach it, a sleepy Joel miller peaks his head out at the noise. 

When he sees it's you and Tommy, he straightens out a bit, a questioning look on his brows. 

“What’s up man,” Tommy brushes past him into the house, you can see him set your bag down on the couch. “Found your new hire,” he teases from inside, already rushing to the kitchen before you’re able to cross the threshold.

You don’t want to squeeze past like Tommy, so you wait for Joel to invite you in. 

“Good morning,” you smile up at him, he towers over you, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Mornin’,” he replies. 

“I just — ran into him outside the house,” you say shyly. 

What are you trying to prove? 

He smiles at you, maybe even matching the smile he had on at the bar. The smile you fell for instantly. A puddle at his feet — this time? No exception. 

“Just come in,” he chuckles, walking away from the doorframe to let you in. 

Sarah squeals from near the couches, running up to you and giving you a big hug. You chuckle while looking at the men in the kitchen. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey, kiddo,” you smile down at her. 

“Can you take me to the library today?” 

“Woah, woah slow your roll. I got a lot to show you before we hit the library,” her smile gets bigger if that’s possible. “I even have some special toys I brought just for you in my bag,” you whisper. 

She laughs, hanging off your arm, and then trots into the kitchen. You follow her. 

“So this is my number,” Joel says when you arrive, putting a piece of paper up on the fridge. 

“Oh, I already—” 

“Call ‘f you need anythin’.” 

Your eyes snap to him when he cuts you off, giving you a knowing look. You blush in favor of arguing, understanding why. 

This might be harder than you initially thought. Especially when you’re in his house, and everything smells like him — like that night. And his brother won’t stop looking at you out of the corner of his eye. 

You catch Tommy in his staring, he quickly looks back down to his cereal. 

“We’ll be back ‘round five,” Joel says, looking over at the calendar hanging on the wall. 

“Tuesday, dad,” Sarah chimes in when he squints at the calendar. 

“Right. Tuesday,” he sighs, his eyes briefly meeting yours across the kitchen. “Tuesday is Chinese. We’ll pick it up on the way home,” he says, nodding at the information. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner,” Tommy cuts through the tension, smiling at you. Your eyes dart to Joel’s — he has an indifferent look on his face. 

You’re not really sure what to say but the entire Miller family looks back at you with the same set of big brown eyes, a couple sets are pleading, one set is scared. 

“Oh, okay. Yeah, thanks,” you smile back at Tommy. You hope things will be better by tonight because this is getting weird and you only have olives and a carton of eggs in the fridge back home. 

“I’m gonna go load the truck,” Tommy mumbles, still chewing the rest of his breakfast while standing. 

“It was very nice to meet you,” he smiles at you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “If you need anything you can always call me, left my number under Joel’s.” 

You smile, but gruff words pull you away from Tommy. 

“If you need anythin’, call me,” Joel says, emphasizing me. 

You wonder if Tommy touched a nerve. 

Tommy smiles with a teasing lilt, you thank him as he exits. 

“Hang on a sec, Sarah, I’m gonna walk your dad out and then I’ll make you breakfast,” you say, following Joel out. 

Tommy’s head is in the backseat of the truck, rummaging through things. You stand in front of Joel on the porch. 

“Listen this is like…” you aren’t sure what you think this is, but it’s kinda unbearable. 

“Yeah, I know,” he replies gruffly. “It’s — it’s done. Right? We can be professional.” 

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice small. “Professional,” you laugh. His bright eyes mirror yours. 

“Guess I should call you Mr. Miller, then.” 

He sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Don’t call me that,” he says, a chaste chuckle braced on his lips. 

“Joel,” he whispers. “Just Joel.” 

“Okay,” you smile back at him. You can’t help but feel the spark like the night at the bar, when his hands were all over you, and you couldn’t see anyone but him. 

“Just Joel.” 

He nods and steps down from the porch. 

He waves goodbye with two lazy fingers lifting from the wheel as he backs out. 

_

“She’s pretty.” 

Tommy’s voice cuts through the tense silence in the truck. An old country song rings through the worn interior. The A/C is blasting, the sun beating down on them through the sunroof. 

Joel grunts in response. 

“You don’t think so?” 

“Think she’s my kid’s babysitter,” Joel mutters while Tommy stifles a laugh. Joel turns down a street, heading towards the onramp for the interstate. They’re meeting with a new client today, big work on the line. Joel can’t be thinking of you.  

“So you’re not into her?” 

Joel takes a while to respond. Tommy shifts a bit nervously in his seat. But finally — finally — Joel lets out a long sigh and responds. The single word sent Tommy’s way, making him grin— 

“Nope.” 

“Alright,” Tommy says, content. 

It rubs Joel the wrong way. 

“‘Alright’ what?” 

“I think I’m gonna ask her out.” 

When Joel doesn’t respond, Tommy speaks again. 

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” 

“I don’t know. Known her two seconds” Joel bites back a bit too harshly. 

A few tense seconds pass. 

Tommy starts again but Joel cuts him off. 

“Jesus, can we just —” Joel reaches down to turn the radio up. The music drowns out any conversation on the tip of his tongue — kills anything he might regret saying. He tries to let it go. 

Tommy lets it go too. 

_

“Sarah!” you shout from the kitchen.

You look down to the kitchen counter. The sandwich stares back at you. You slather one side with blackberry jam you picked up from the farmers market. The other side with some peanut butter. Crust off, Sarah had pleaded with you yesterday when you picked her up from soccer camp. 

You move to cut the crust off. 

The front door opens from behind you, you don’t bother turning around, knowing who it is before he greets you—

“Hey, baby,” Tommy rounds the corner and gives you a small hug. You hear the front door shut in his wake. You look down to your fingers, the peanut butter getting a bit messy from the heat in the kitchen. 

“Hey,” you reply softly. 

It's been a couple weeks since you started taking care of Sarah. You fell into the Miller’s daily routines with ease, eating dinner with them most nights. Tommy and you have grown close. He’s a friend, a confidant. Someone who you can count on no matter what.  

He’s good conversation, but an even better listener. You find yourself talking to him most nights on the drive home, and even sometimes after that when you invite him in for coffee and a drink. You can talk about anything and he’ll listen, giving his two cents when necessary, becoming a better friend than you could’ve anticipated. 

Anything he had said the first night you invited him in.

You can talk to me about anything. 

You had smiled at him. You wanted to talk to him about anything. And you talked to him about most things — but never all. 

Because there was always Joel.  

“Sarah!” you shout again, checking the clock and seeing it was almost eight. “Get your bag kiddo, I gotta drop you off at soccer by 8:15.” 

You hear her small voice let out a muffled coming as you finish packing up her lunch. 

“Need a ride?” Tommy asks from behind you. 

“I thought you and Joel had to meet with that electrician guy today,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I always got time for you,” he says in a teasing upswing. You just laugh in response, trying to brush it off. 

You know Tommy is a flirt. You can see it when you go out with him, girls fawn at his feet because he’s charming. The woman bagging your groceries, the waitress at the diner, the neighborhood mom’s coming over to talk when he washes the truck outside Joel’s house. 

You see it all — and you don’t mind when it spills over onto you. It’s just how he is. 

“Brought my car today, thanks though,” you nod at him as you pass the kitchen table, putting Sarah’s lunch bag on the counter.

You hear footsteps rounding the corner, hoping it’s Sarah, but as you look up, Joel’s eyes catch yours. 

“Dammit,” you mumble.  

“G’mornin’ to you too,” Joel says back, sending you a look. 

“No — sorry, just —” you brush him off, he joins Tommy at the table. “Sarah!” 

“We’re gonna be late,” you mumble to him, he sips on his coffee. 

“I’ll give you a ride,” Joel says from his seat, motioning to the truck. 

Tommy’s brows raise, waiting for your response.

“Thanks but I brought my car today,” you brush him off. 

“Surprised that thing still drives,” Joel grumbles under his breath. 

“Shut up, will you?” you say, half teasing, sending him a playful scowl. 

“It ain’t safe is all ‘m sayin’, you sh—” he cuts himself off at the look you give him. 

Tommy whistles from across the table. 

It might look okay. And it might feel okay too. But when you're alone at night and you can’t sleep — you think about Joel. The fleeting glances from the day. The way his hand touched yours when you guys cleaned up dinner. 

It wasn’t torture — but it sure felt like something similar. 

You don’t miss how Joel scowls a bit when Tommy flirts with you playfully. But things seem to be cordial between them — as cordial as brothers can be. 

Sarah skips down the steps, her hair falling out of the pony tail she tried to put up herself. 

“C’mere, kiddo, we gotta fix your hair,” you say when she reaches the bottom step, pointing to a chair beside her dad and uncle. 

Sarah sits, you brush through her hair with a comb, securing it with an elastic. You can feel both men’s eyes on you. 

“All set,” you pat her shoulders, she finishes breakfast, racing to put her shoes on as you grab your keys. 

Tommy stands at your exit. 

“I’ll walk you out,” he says, taking one last sip of his coffee before putting the dishes in the sink. He meets you in the foyer, you scramble to get your sandals on, Sarah slipping into her cleats as you bend down to tie her laces. Tommy grabs your keys and goes to start your car. 

“Bye, Joel,” you yell from the entryway, something deep and gruff rings back from the kitchen.

When you open the door, the soft sunlight hits you. Sarah skips out towards Tommy, he picks her up, throws her up in the air, she laughs and giggles. He lets her settle into the backseat of your car. He opens the door for you, giving you a small hug as you check the time on your phone. 

8:10 am. 

“See you later, baby.” 

“Bye Tommy,” you chuckle at his words, shaking your head as you climb into the driver’s seat. 

_

Honestly, Joel is right. 

You’re confused on how this car still drives. It was your mom’s from when she was in college. It sat in your garage, collecting dust until you pleaded with your parents to fix it up for you. Maybe it’s sentimental value or maybe you just can’t afford another car, but you’ve driven it ever since. 

It’s never been a problem for you. Not until this moment when you found yourself on the side of the road, two blocks away from where you dropped off Sarah.  

Your phone rings in your hand as you hold it up to your ear, leaning against the hood of the car while you look down at the very obviously flat tire. 

“Tommy?” you bite quickly when he picks up. 

What’s up? 

“My tire’s fucked. I need a tow,” you grovel. 

Oh shit. Uh — I can’t leave right now, the electrician needs me. 

“Fuck,” you huff into the hot air. “Okay, I’ll call Triple A, thanks.” 

You’re about to hang up, but a deep voice cuts through the line, Tommy answers it with a tone that you can’t read.

Joel’s comin’.

Your breath hitches. 

Text him where you are.

You find yourself nodding even though he can’t see you. 

“O-okay. Tell him I said thanks,” 

He just left. Listen I gotta —

“Oh – no yeah, sorry. See you later. Thanks.” 

Yeah. Bye.

You shoot Joel a quick text, your fingers shaking unexpectedly. 

You only wait for about ten minutes before you see the black pick up roll around the corner. He pulls up in front of you, and backs up so the hitch is in line with your car. 

Joel gets out, moving to hook everything up. 

“Joel, I’m so sorry, I—” 

“Hey,” he looks at you, you stare back with wide eyes. You were half expecting him to be mad or annoyed. But you forgot how he is. A gentleman. 

“‘S’alright, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart? 

From Joel Miller? 

But he gives you a pat on the shoulder, motioning for you to help him, unaware he just made you weak at the knees. 

You get everything hooked up, he opens the door for you like always. 

You get in the truck and are met with a tense silence as he rolls into the middle of the road. 

“Don’t say it,” you say, looking over at him, teasingly, waiting for the inevitable, I told you so.

“Wasn’t gonna say anythin’,” he smirks. 

“I know you’re thinking it though.” 

“I know you are, too.” 

“You jinxed me,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I ain’t jinx nothin’.” 

“You so did. This morning, at breakfast,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at him. 

“I just said I was surprised it still runs.” 

“Yeah and now look what happened.” 

He laughs, you both do.

You’re met with silence for a long time. He turns down a couple streets, heading back to his house. 

“You called Tommy.” 

You suddenly feel like it’s harder to breathe. 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m always here if you need anythin’...” he says, but trails off, shaking his head. 

“I know. I just didn’t want to bother you,” you whisper. 

“You’re never a bother,” he says in that drawl. He takes a glance over at you then back to the road. 

You gulp. 

You watch his hands on the steering wheel. His thick fingers flicker on the settings for the radio, or tap on the top of the wheel when you stop at a red light. 

It’s intoxicating.

He’s intoxicating. 

But you already knew that. 

“You can’t be starin’ at me like that in the house.” 

You blush, snapping out of your dream-like haze. 

“I — I’m sorry.” 

He grunts. 

You want to ask him. To talk to him. You want to know if he’s been thinking about you like you’ve been thinking about him. If you crawl into his sleepless nights, his daydreams, his every waking moment like he does to you. 

You’re talking before you know any better. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

His reply is hesitant, but he motions for you to continue. When you find your voice, you manage to squeak out your question before you shut down and die from embarrassment. 

“Is this hard for you?” 

“‘S what hard? Drivin’?” he teases, you give him a shove but he doesn’t react to your touches. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Not sure I do.” 

Damn. 

Maybe this is all in your head. Maybe when he told you that whatever this might be is over like he did all those weeks ago, he really meant it. 

You shut up after that. Not really noticing your new found silence. 

But Joel does. 

He pulls up to the house, putting the car in park. He hops out first, opening your door, you walk by his side towards the front door. 

When you step onto the porch you expect him to unlock the door, but he turns to you, surprisingly breaking the silence.

“Yes,” he says in a gruff voice. 

You wait with bated breath for him to continue, until he doesn’t. 

“What?” 

“It’s hard for me,” he continues, you look at him.

He looks at you — almost with pleading eyes. It looks like he’s pained to say it. 

“To see you everyday and not…” he trails off, but you know what he means. The thought sends a tell tale stickiness down in between your thighs. 

You nod. 

“It was kinda a fucked up coincidence,” you huff a laugh. He hums in agreement. 

You stand there with him, the tension building to an all time high. 

“Yeah,” he says after a while. “Fucked up.”

“It was —” you bite your tongue. Not sure whether or not to dig up the incident at the bar you both fought so hard to bury. To conceal your relationship from everyone, including yourselves. 

“I know,” he agrees. 

You look at Joel through your lashes. 

He looks handsome. 

He’s always handsome, but when he looks at you with a glint in his eyes and the sunlight makes his brown eyes caramel, it's something entirely different. 

You take a tentative step forward. He doesn’t move back. 

“I’ve missed you,” you say in a hushed whisper.

It’s true. You missed his presence. Most of your time being taken up by Sarah or Tommy. If this whole babysitting thing didn’t happen between you and Joel, you would probably be seeing him at least once a week. 

At least. 

He huffs out a sigh, taking a half step towards you. He looks at you almost sympathetically. And when his hand comes to angle your chin up towards him, his look becomes more painful. 

 Maybe this is the part where he kisses you, and everything melts away. 

He dips his head down slowly. You keep looking back up to his eyes and down to his approaching lips to gauge whether or not this is a mistake. 

Even though you both know it is. 

His lips brush yours, you tremble, but his phone ringing in his pocket snaps you out of it. 

He looks down, at the screen lighting up with Tommy’s name sprawled across it. 

“Hello?” Joel answers. 

Joel? Where the hell are you? The electrician — 

You stop listening after that, stepping back. Joel mumbles some words on the phone while unlocking the front door and opening it for you, like always. 

You give him a small smile and nod for him to go back to his truck. 

He gives you a look — later? 

You nod your head yes while shutting the door. 

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you slump onto the couch. 

Later he had said with his eyes. 

_

chapter iii. diced

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @jasminedragoon @rainbowcosmicchaos @akah565

[revacholianpizzaagenda]

Apocalyptic squirreling

We're not, like, impaling these quotes like the proverbial shrike or anything, just hoarding them away in a nice stash. A collection of Disco Elysium tidbits about the end of the world compiled by @yekokataa and I, feel free to add!

...starting with the game's earliest teaser trailer.

(28 rather than 27 could be its own odd math, there's some miscounting in the text now and then just like there's the occasional typo, or it could follow the fact that the year of canon events was changed at some point. for that matter, the infamous 22 years to the nuke should be 21, like it originally followed that same 28 and wasn't edited - consistently, the variable it flags is ice.andre_hyper_rc_succ_28)

(this is an example of odd math to me, for the record, as it's 365x27 to the day. It could be it's the EXACT count and also that Elysium doesn't have leap years, but I would've expected a less precise number, personally)

:)

Ours has actual six thousand years of history: it spans from its own version of the early Bronze Age (Perikarnassian period) to the early Middle Ages (Franconigerian period), to the Renaissance (Dolorian period), right up to a decade we call “The Seventies”. It’s a world like ours, one that has evolved culturally and technologically over widely varied periods of time. No Truce With the Furies takes place in the modernity of this world.

(source)

Q: How tight is the connection between the book and the game? Is it a Witcher-like situation? KURVITZ: Things in this world are connected to each other like things in our world are connected to each other – not like things are connected to each other in Star Wars. The book and the game share themes and historical developments. The book is set in the early seventies and the game is set in the early fifties. They are connected the way two stories set in our world would be. The fault-lines developing in the fifties are more apparent in the seventies. The situation has worsened, the political climate has shifted, but there is no Skywalker saga. The main story in Elysium is history.

(source)

yes yes we've all seen the nuke convo but let's put it here for completionism's sake

This connection - saying 22 instead of 27, or 28 as the variable reminds us - could seem strange based on game data alone, but it neatly follows the context of the book, which shows us that the bombing of Revachol is one and the same as the material beginning of the end of the world.

This one is also a fun book throwback, from apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert to apocalyptic Kurvitz self-insert

(being appreciative of that kind of future just nets you a YEEEAGH)

more personally ominous than globally ominous but ominous nonetheless

("we become vapour" being, of course, the planned title of the eventual Elysium tabletop setting rulebook. sigh.)

This one's intriguing, isn't it? With an eye to Le Retour...

Her echoes of the other dialogue options are similarly ominous, for the record.

And we don't know if Nilsen had visions of his own (the man sounds well-acquainted with his Half Light, on behalf of the war crimes, so it's not... entirely out of the question) but we do know that his pocket calculator lap cat second-bestie very much did and could've been his source.

Also a strong book callback, among other things. Remember kids: object permanence!

Harry, all these quotes like this one sound like they would make sense for the actual guy who goes and blows it all up, not you personal-

...ah yes. Ambrosius looms... yeah buddy it sure is solemn AND historical, I'm afraid:

and of course, in closing:

🥲

...for the remaining 276 pages of Elysium tidbits about the end of the world, of course, over here.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Skin | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of assault/battery, canon violence, canon gore (take care of urselves bbies)

Word Count: 5826

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean didn’t talk about Toledo. You were back to not talking about much of anything. Your fights had become much less frequent, and when you did fight, it was more playful than malicious. For that, you were grateful. You felt incredibly conflicted about the fact that he was beginning to grow on you. 

‘Like a wart,’ you thought. ‘Or a blister, maybe.’

Whatever he was, he was beginning to chip through your hard exterior. You also found out he hadn’t told Sam what you’d told him about your family which you were surprised by. 

The three of you spent more time on the road than you did anywhere else. When you used to drive cross-country by yourself, you felt yourself beginning to go crazy a few hours into the drive. As much as you loved your alone time, you also craved the company of others. Now that you had it, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave these guys once you found John. 

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.” 

He didn’t respond.

“Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” he finally answered. 

“Busy doin’ what?” you placed your head on his shoulder over the top of the seat.

“Reading e-mails.” 

Dean had gotten out of the car and began pumping gas. “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam still seemed disinterested in conversation.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean asked.

“Why not?” He still hadn’t turned his attention from his phone.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“And I couldn’t make my way into that lie?” you asked. 

“What do I tell ‘em, (Y/N/N)? That we picked up some chick in California and took her on the road with us?” he chuckled. “And I don’t lie to them. I just don’t tell ‘em… everything.”

“Yeah, that’s called lying,” you retorted. “I get it, though, the truth is much worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

His older brother shrugged.

“You’re serious?” Sam wasn’t really asking.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean responded.

“How many friends do I have, Sam?” you asked him.

“Me.”

“Exactly,” you giggled.

“You two are kind of anti-social, you know that?” He returned to scrolling through his emails.

“Eh, whatever.” You flopped back on the bench seat.

“God….” Sam trailed off.

“What?” you and Dean asked.

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Dean—” 

Sam ignored the two of you. “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” his brother questioned.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”

“Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

Sam wasn’t having it. “It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean and Sam got into what you can only describe as a staring contest before Dean scoffed; seemingly admitting defeat. Next thing you knew, you were headed to St. Louis.

***

The massive door on the undoubtedly expensive house you’d arrived at opened to reveal a beautiful blonde girl. 

‘Damn all these pretty blonde bitches we keep running into,’ you thought.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she smiled, throwing her arms around her friend.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” Sam jested.

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

“I got your e-mail.” His tone had become somber.

“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she answered earnestly.

Dean shoved in front of Sam. “Dean. Older brother.”

‘He’s making his fucking voice deeper again.’

She shook his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled back.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” You peeked out from behind Sam. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Nice to meet you!” You were only mildly annoyed by how wonderful her disposition was. “Come in.”

“Nice place,” Dean commented, taking in his grandiose surroundings.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free,” Becky explained.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.”

‘Of course, they fucking do.’

“Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked politely.

Dean obviously did, but his brother stopped him. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”

“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to cry. 

‘She’s even pretty when she cries.’

“So, he called 911, and the police— they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight,” she relayed.

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean agreed, but you could tell he still wasn’t picking up where Sam was going with this.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” the blonde asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Detective, actually,” Dean laughed.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.”

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just— I don’t know,” she said.

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent,” Sam replied.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends,” Dean mocked after Becky had walked down the hall.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam responded.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”

Dean said nothing, clearly defeated.

***

“You’re sure this is okay?” Rebecca asked Dean as the four of you walked into Zack's house.

Dean clearly was having fun with the whole “cop” thing. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.”

You hated how smug he could be. Rebecca came inside with you and informed you that Emily had let her attacker in. 

She then informed you about a recent incident that struck you as odd. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes— Zack’s clothes. The police— they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” In the midst of her story, you could hear a dog barking angrily across the street. Dean peered out of the window, and Becca came up behind him. “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” you asked her.

“He just changed.”

Dean turned over his shoulder to her. “Do you remember when he changed?”

“I guess around the time of the murder,” she shrugged. 

You found Sam staring at a picture of himself, another college-aged boy you assumed was Zack, and Rebecca that was framed in the hallway. 

Dean came up behind you soon after. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam said.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“Yeah, prob—” you started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

You shot him a look. “The evidence is staring you in the face, and you still can’t admit you’re wrong.”

He shot a look back at you that said, ‘Don’t try me.’

Before you could push each other’s buttons any further, Rebecca came over to you, and Dean turned his attention to her. “So, the tape. The security footage— you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

How Becky was buying into Dean’s lie, you had no idea. He was really laying it on thick.

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she giggled. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

The three of you went back to Becky’s parents’ home to review the security footage. It was of Zack entering his house, but a strange glint on the film caught your eye.

“22:04,” Dean noted the time stamp, “that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with,” Becky added.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam asked. 

“Oh, sure,” she replied politely, turning to go to the kitchen.

“Maybe some sandwiches, too?” He was putting on the puppy dog eyes just a bit to convince her. 

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she snarked.

“I wish,” Dean mumbled. 

“Can you focus, please?” you asked him.

“What are you, my mother?” Your banter was no longer filled with malice, just a hint of aggravation. 

“No, but frankly, the thought of you trying to bang someone makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I’d prefer not to watch it happen,” you replied playfully. “But look.” You rewound the tape an started it over. You caught the glint again, paused it, and realized Zack’s eyes were silver. “There!”

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean shrugged.

“Does that look like any camera flare you’ve ever seen?” you asked rhetorically. 

He just looked away, defeated. 

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam chimed in. “Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger?” Your brow knitted together, mind trying to wrap around what you were dealing with.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was in two places at once,” Sam said.

Despite the luxurious villa Sam’s friend called home, the three of you didn’t want to intrude on her privacy; opting for yet another shitty motel. Something about this case was bugging you, though, and you tossed and turned all night thinking about it. And then, it hit you.

You pulled on your jacket and boots and rushed over to the boys’ room. A sleepy Dean answered the door. You hated to admit it, but he and his fluffy, mussed up hair were adorable when he’d just woken up.

“Morning, sunshine,” you grinned.

He scratched his head. “(Y/N), what the fu—”

“We have to get to Zack’s house. I just thought of something. “

Sam appeared behind Dean, already dressed. “Whatcha got?”

Dean stepped back from the door, letting you into the room. 

“We saw ‘Zack’ go in, but never saw the killer leave,” you explained. “But of course, we didn’t. Why would the cops be looking for that when they nabbed Zack in his house with his dead girlfriend?” 

Sam was with you, nodding his head.

“Did you have to realize that before five in the morning?” Dean yawned, pulling a pair of pants on.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “Couldn’t sleep. But I figured that out, so that’s all that matters.”

Dean shook his head and yawned again. “Sam, you’re driving. I might crash my baby if I drive right now.”

***

“He must’ve gone out the back door,” Sam said. You and the brothers were walking toward Zack’s house. “So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.

“C’mon,” you groaned, dragging his arm to follow Sam around the back of Zack’s house. Sure enough, there was a dried, dark red substance smeared on a nearby telephone pole.

“Blood. Somebody came this way,” Sam noted.

“Yeah, but the trail ends,” Dean added from a few paces ahead. “I don’t see anything over here.”

Just as he finished speaking, an ambulance drove past the house with its sirens wailing. You and Sam looked at each other before hurrying back to Dean’s car. Dean followed the ambulance to its destination where a man was handcuffed and being shoved into the back of a police car.

“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.

“He tried to kill his wife,” she responded with a hand to her chest. “Tied her up and beat her.”

“Really?” you asked.

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.” She shook her head sorrowfully and watched as the police car drove away.

The three of you hung around the scene for a while until it had been completely cleared out. You regrouped while you snooped around.

“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?” Dean asked as he approached you and Sam.

“Yeah,” his brother answered.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

You gasped, feigning shock. “Mark it in the calendar, Dean Winchester admitted he was wrong!”

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he retorted.

“What’d you find out?” Sam asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” Dean explained.

“So, he was in two places at once, too.”

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; police think he’s a nutjob.”

You paused for a moment, thinking. “You think it could be a shapeshifter?”

“Something that can make itself look like anyone? Sure,” Sam responded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves,” Dean added. “We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.”

“Let me ask you this— in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” the younger brother asked.

“Not that I know of.” You shook your head. “But someone ran out the back of his house and headed this way. And then… the trail just… ends. Just like at your friend’s house.” You gestured toward Sam.

“Well, there’s another way to go.” You followed Dean’s gaze down to a manhole.

“Ew, gross.” Your face scrunched up in disgust as Sam started to move the manhole cover. 

The three of you quickly climbed down so as to not be seen. 

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam said as the three of you made your way down the tunnel. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

You were leading the group, and stopped suddenly when you noticed a pile of blood and skin on the ground. “Blegh, look!”

“Is this from his victims?” Sam looked equally as disgusted.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and lifted a piece of the skin off the ground. “You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds.”

“That is sick,” you affirmed.

He dropped the skin back to the ground and turned to you to wipe his knife off on your jacket.

“Ew, dude!” you shoved his arm. “What the fuck?”

He just laughed in response.

You and the boys headed back up to the car to load up with some weapons.

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad—” Dean began, riffling through the weapons cavity, “—is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” you chimed in.

He nodded and handed you a case of the bullets. 

Sam’s cell phone rang. “This is Sam… We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out… What are you talkin’ about?”

He seemed caught off-guard. You thought he was talking to Rebecca, but had no idea why she’d be upset with you. You eyed Dean who shrugged.

“Why would you do that?... Bec— We’re tryin’ to help… Bec, I’m sorry, but—” And then he clapped his phone shut, looking disappointed.

Dean found it an appropriate moment to be a bit of a dick. “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just—it’d be easier if—”

“If I was like you guys,” he replied quietly. 

“Sam, I’m not trying to be heartless, but Dean’s kinda right.” Both brothers seemed surprised you were agreeing with Dean for once. “We’re not like other people.” 

“But I’ll tell you one thing.” Dean’s lighthearted tone was back. “This whole gig— it ain’t without perks.” He held out a gun to Sam, whose face was still crestfallen.

You followed Sam and Dean back down the manhole, gun loaded with silver bullets. You carried the case of bullets Dean handed to you in your inner jacket pocket; just in case. After a few minutes of trudging through toxic sludge with baited breath, you noticed another pile of blood and skin on a pipe next to Sam’s head. “I think we’re close to its lair,” you told them.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked. 

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you snickered. 

“Oh, God!” His face scrunched up in disgust.

There was another pile of clothing and rotting skin a few paces ahead of you. 

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while,” you heard Dean say from behind you.

You turned to face him as you spoke. “Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away— Fuck, Dean!” you cried, seeing the shapeshifter in the form of its last victim behind him. 

Dean wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground by the smirking creature. You and Sam rushed to his side as the creature sped off. 

“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean commanded. 

The three of you sped down the tunnel and followed him out of the manhole. You couldn’t see where exactly he ended up, and you decided to split up. 

Under the cover of night, you headed down streets and alleyways with your gun hidden inside your jacket. You came to a stop at a dead end and wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind you. The shapeshifter, still in the form of the businessman, knocked you out cold before you were even able to raise your gun at him. 

***

The next time you came to, you felt itchy bits of rope binding your hands, feet, and neck to a cold, metal post behind you. As your vision began to clear, you could see you were in some kind of a dark, dingy room. It seemed like a house, but you weren’t entirely convinced. You heard what sounded like the older brother’s voice coming from behind you.

“Dean?” you called.

“(Y/N), it’s not—” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post. 

You turned your face away from him, straining against the rope. He even smelled like Dean. 

“You are one fucking trainwreck,” he said, searching your face. 

You eyed him curiously. He just laughed coldly in response. “The more I learn about you, the more fucked up you get.”

“What do you mean ‘learn’?” 

As if on cue, the shapeshifter held a hand to his temple, grunting in pain. After a moment had passed, he spoke again. “You made a big mistake telling him— I mean, me— about what you did to your family. If I wasn’t ready to get rid of you before, I sure as hell am now. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another.

“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what you told me in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. You instead reared back as much as you could and spat in his face. You had taken him by surprise, but his hand was around your throat in an instant. His lips were inches away from your ear and he squeezed your neck just tight enough to where you were beginning to see stars. “You fucking bitch. Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

He released your throat and you sputtered and coughed when he did. He covered you up with a tarp moments later. You felt pathetic, but you let your tears flow freely now that he was gone, wiggling around to get the tarp off your head. 

“(Y/N), are you back there?” Dean called from somewhere you couldn’t see. 

You knew he hadn’t said those hurtful things to you, but it was still difficult to hear his voice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” Your voice was still shaky from crying. “He went to Rebecca’s, lookin’ like you.”

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” Dean gibed at his brother.

You admired his ability to keep his snarky attitude and stupid jokes despite his circumstances. His confidence bewildered you at times.

You pulled at the ropes binding your hands, hissing when you felt the rope creating angry brush burns on your wrists. 

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you,” you heard Sam tell Dean.

“What do you mean?” the older brother asked.

“Yeah, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories,” you told him.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?” 

You giggled. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam added.

“Yeah, he probably needs to keep us alive. Some kind of psychic connection— ah,” you yelped at the feeling of the rope aggravating your wrists again. The shifter had bound you unbelievably tightly.

“(Y/N), stop, I’m coming to help you,” Dean instructed. 

“I’m a big girl,” you replied sassily. “I can do it.”

Dean had made his way over to you. “Do you have to fight me on everything?” He untied your hands with ease and began working on your neck. 

“Yes, but thank you,” you told him. You still couldn’t look him in the eyes after what the shifter had told you. You were doing your best to keep your exterior steely. You couldn’t deny, though, that his tight-fitting gray t-shirt over rippling muscle and the way he’d helped you were starting to break down your walls a little. 

“Come on, we gotta go,” you heard Sam order from behind you. “He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”

Dean pushed a window out of the building you were kept in and the three of you climbed out. 

Sam started down the street. “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped him. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

His brother shrugged. “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean led the three of you down the street. You ran shielded by the darkness until you reached a store window. There was a display wall of televisions in it, and the news was on. Conveniently, Dean was the breaking news.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End—” the reporter stated, “—where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

Of course, Dean’s attitude was unwavering. “Man! That’s not even a good picture.”

You looked around nervously. 

“It’s good enough,” Sam said.

“Man!” Dean grumbled, following Sam down the street to an alleyway. 

“They said attempted murder,” you pointed out. “At least we know—”

“I didn’t kill her.”

You nodded.

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.” 

‘He’s still as arrogant as ever.’

“We have no weapons, though. No silver bullets,” you countered. 

“Sweetheart, the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal, I wanna find him.” He turned to face you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I get it. We need guns, though.”

“The car?” Sam threw in. 

“I’m bettin’ he drove over to Rebecca’s.” Dean’s face began to heat up. You knew he was thinking about his precious Impala.

“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

“The thought of him drivin’ my car—” he whined.

You shook your head. “Come on.”

“It’s killin’ me,” Dean whined again.

“Let it go,” you and Sam commanded over your shoulders.

The three of you rounded the corner along a tall hedge only to be greeted by the sight of the car.

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight.” Dean’s joy was almost contagious.

His stupor was broken by a police car appearing down Rebecca’s street and blocking the end of the road. 

“Fuck.” You spun around the way you came, but another cop car appeared back down that street, too. 

“This way, this way,” Dean began leading you over to a fence and easily climbed atop it. 

“You guys go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you.

“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you.” Dean turned into a seated position on top the fence.

“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca’s,” Sam quickly spoke. 

You and Dean hopped over multiple fences, fatiguing your limbs quickly. Several blocks from where you and the boys had run into the cops, the two of you stopped to catch your breath. You sat down on a street corner and tucked your knees into your chest.

Dean sat beside you. “What did he say to you?”

You turned to him. “Huh?”

“The shifter. What’d he say to you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s fine—”

“(Y/N), you haven’t looked at me once since we left that thing’s hideout. Tell me what he said.”

“Why can’t you drop it?” you spat, looking down at your boots.

“Because,” he protested. “I gave you a chance to explain in Toledo. At the very least, you owe me that.”

You sighed. “He said you think I’m annoying. And, um, a burden. He said you’re trying to find your dad so quick to get rid of me. And that you can’t trust me because of what I did to my family.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”

“He said everything about me aggravates you and that I exhaust you.”

He nodded. “Do you really believe that?” You could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “You haven’t exactly proven otherwise to me.” You looked up at him for the first time in hours.

He seemed surprised by that answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. Aside from Toledo and a few seconds on that plane, all we’ve ever done is fight,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “But I don’t think those things about you. Honest.”

“I feel like I’m pulling teeth here, Dean,” you remarked. “What do you think of me?”

“I mean, you can be annoying.”

You scoffed, but a smile tugged at your lips. 

“And you’re way too stubborn.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And so are you.”

“And you’re too smart for your own good.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“Would you let me finish?” he deadpanned.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You just… you intimidate me a little, honestly.” Now Dean was the one who couldn’t look at you.

You were shocked. “Really? Why?”

“Dammit, (Y/N), I’m not good at this,” he sighed. “I know you heard what I said to Haley about that being the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman.”

You giggled at the memory.

“This tops that by far,” he admitted.

You nodded. You’d have this conversation another time. You rose to your feet, and he followed suit. 

“Can we start over?” you asked him.

He eyed you curiously.

“As… acquaintances, I mean,” you explained. “We’re no closer to finding your dad than we were the day I met you, so I imagine I’ll be around for a little while longer. I’d rather us not fight the whole time. It’s getting exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

“Okay, then.” You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand. “Hi. I’m (Y/N).”

Dean shook his head at your antics despite the smile pulling on his lips. “Dean.” This time, he actually shook your hand.

***

Later that morning, you and Dean had returned to the car for weapons. Thankfully, Dean still had some silver bullets left in the trunk. With guns in hand, the two of you headed back to the sewers. A few minutes into your walk, you came across a rancid pile of flesh, teeth, and fingernails.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Your face contorted in disgust. You looked up when you heard a rustling noise a little down the tunnel. You could see a dim glow from the place you’d heard the rustling. You tightened your grip on your gun and let Dean lead the way into the chamber. He nodded his head in the direction of the left side of a figure covered in a tarp at the back end of the chamber, indicating for you to go that way. You followed his instruction and crept up on the figure with him. He pulled the sheet away from the figure, only to reveal Rebecca.

“What happened?” you asked her. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth was gagged, her hair was a mess, and her skin was littered with bruising and cuts. 

She was still shaking and crying as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” Dean told her. 

The two of you untied her and made sure she was able to walk before guiding her out of the sewers.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” Dean said. “Sam went to see you.”

When you got to Rebecca’s house, all you could hear was the grunting, furniture breaking, skin hitting skin, and bones cracking coming from the living room. And then, choking. You had no doubt it was Sam.

Dean seemed to pick up on that as well. He hurried into the den, shouting, “Hey!”

The shifter spotted Dean and got off of Sam. Dean shot twice, and with that, the shifter was dead. 

You rushed over to Sam and cradled his head in your lap. “Are you okay?” you asked him. 

He smiled painfully at you. “Peachy.”

You giggled at him. You looked up at Dean standing over… Dean… and watched as he ripped his necklace off the shifter.

You watched Rebecca say goodbye to Sam, and she waved at you and Dean who stood by the Impala. She turned to go back inside her house.

Sam approached the two of you.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked his brother.

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam jested. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.” 

You giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes. 

“Get in the car, (Y/N),” he chastised you. For the first time since you met him, you knew he wasn’t trying to tear you down. It was refreshing to have an amicable relationship with him.

As Dean tore down the road, he turned to his brother. “Sorry, man.”

“About what?”

“I really wish things could be different, you know?” the older brother said earnestly. “I wish you could just be… Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in,” Sam admitted.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.

You loved earnest moments between the two brothers. It made you feel normal; in a weird way.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said dryly.

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” Sam’s voice softened.

“You know, I gotta say. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.” 

You felt one of Dean’s stupid jokes coming on. “Oh, here we go.”

He eyed you in the rearview mirror. 

“Miss what?” Sam asked.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smirked.

You shook your head. “And there it is.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle

[matan4il]

Buddie 617 meta

I’m gonna be honest here, this was one of the funniest 911 eps to me. I loved how this ep showed us both Buck and Eddie completely sucking at dating. It was very obvious in Buck’s case, what with each attempt to have quality time with Natalia being ruined by one of his past decisions, but then when he called out Eddie for also sucking at it, Buck wasn’t wrong. Eddie’s attempts seem half-hearted at best. First off, if he really wanted to date, then Tia Pepa’s help and dating apps are actually not that awful as options. Magic might happen there as well. The right person could even stand out more against a sea of not so great choices, turning the dreary experience into a colorful, magical one. But even when Eddie tries on his own, his attempts are LAME. Seriously, there are pastime activities that offer way more potential to start a conversation, and maybe a romance, than the ones Eddie chose. Not only that, these are not his actual hobbies, where he knows he’ll find someone who likes the same thing he does (the way he shares so much with one tall firefighter that we’re all thinking of right now. Eddie’s also being dumb about wanting it to “just happen” as if that’s not exactly what he got with buck. Also, just a friendly reminder that Buddie have been dating for almost 5 years, and they are GREAT at it when it’s with each other).

On top of that, we for real got a guy checking Eddie out (hi, hello, should I start a collection of him checking and being checked out by guys?) as well as him witnessing a woman he was looking at being embraced by another one. Why the hints at being surrounded by queer people? Your guess is as good as mine, but I’m here for it no matter what. ;D Now, I’ve talked before about the ongoing theme of Buddie’s dating life being intertwined in terms of when they start dating someone, or of why they break up, but now in addition to them dating at the same time, we also see them simultaneously sucking at it? Yeah, that takes the connectedness of their dating life up a notch. ~~

Which brings me to one line that grabbed my attention in this ep. THE line that offers the explicit resolution for the most important romantic plot here is the one from Gina, the insurance lady, to Chimney, about not regretting the attempt. Yes, even when the result is bad. That’s what Madney will embrace. One of the biggest obstacles to Buck and Eddie, besides their obliviousness, is the fear of ruining the good thing they have by attempting to take it to the next level. But here we have Chimney being reminded by Gina that it’s worth it, to try. Because the good thing you can have, if it works out? Is worth it. And you never have to live with the “what if” of it all. Now look at Buck and Eddie being once more adorable morons together on the job! Imagine the moment when they stop running around and let themselves try taking it to the next level, because they realize no matter what the result will be, they would never regret the attempt. ~~

Speaking of Buddie paralleling one of the canon couples on the show who were acting lovey dovey in this ep, the way Bobby described what made him and Athena happen reminded me of Buddie connecting. In both cases, there’s an intense and upsetting call, after which one of our first responders turns to find support (Buddie promising to have each other’s back) and comfort (Eddie wants to go grab something to eat together) in the other one. ~~

I did not miss Taylor Kelly, and true to form, she was back because she’s advancing her career by exploiting her personal connection to Buck and the exposure to the 118 it provided her. I’m pretty sure this basically buries any option of any showrunner ever trying to re-set these two as a romance, since it echoed and reinforced Buck’s decision to break up with her. It WAS funny to see her and Lucy cockblock Buck (I do think Lucy’s tone with which she spoke of their past also closes the door on anyone ever trying to set her and Buck up as a serious couple), but what I found to be funniest is that Buck tells Natalia he was trying to figure out the perfect place for their date, and then he took her to the bar where he kissed Lucy. A bar reminiscent of the one where he hooked up with Taylor. Possibly a spot where he hooked with other women during his Buck 1.0 stage based on how it’s THE hang out place for the 118 and we know Buck had no issues hooking up anywhere back then. Natalia, hon. This is not a good sign for your r/s with him. ~~

Speaking of which, there’s an ex who didn’t come back in this ep, but her spirit loomed large over Buck and Natalia IMO, and that is Ali. The reason why she and Buck broke up after 218 is because at the end of the day, she couldn’t accept the choices he had made in his professional life (hoping he would move on from firefighting). In the same way, Natalia revealed in this ep that she can’t accept Buck’s choices in his personal life. A small reminder the only partner we’ve ever witnessed truly seeing and accepting Buck, in every aspect of his life, has been Eddie. ~~

Another funny thing about this (911 is a comedy, y’all) is how Natalia flees the second she comes across Kameron. I mean, this is in addition to the hilarity of the death doula’s first name connecting her to birth and to all things natal, yet she flees the second that she sees a pregnant lady. Because if this is Natalia’s reaction when it comes to a bio kid that Buck explicitly said he is not going to raise, what would she do once she realizes he co-parents a fully grown kid? (and a very sassy one, too. LBR, Natalia doesn’t stand a chance in a show down with either Diaz boy) ~~

Much like Natalia doesn’t seem like the right fit for Buck based on this ep (or based on 616), neither does Marisol. Can I point out the fact that Eddie’s disapproval in the last ep of Buck dating Natalia applies here, too? They both met these women on calls. Second, Eddie wanted it to happen naturally, which is why it’s so lame he tried through all sorts of activities that he’s not ACTUALLY into and wouldn’t continue doing past the initial stage of meeting someone else. And that holds true for Marisol as well. We saw that her brother and her are very into DYI, which I guess was meant to lay the groundwork for Eddie running into her in a DYI shop. But the thing is, Eddie himself isn’t into this! Sure, he can do it, because as a single dad he’s had to, but it’s not something we’ve ever seen him being passionate about. He’s only at this store because of Christopher’s project. And then once more, just like he steps away from Pepa’s help, dating apps and chooses the wost places for a chance romantic connection, he walks away from Marisol even when the whole scene plays out as if she’s the climax of his search throughout this whole ep. This might all hint that despite initial appearances, just like the people he came across while golfing and hiking wouldn’t be the right fit, Marisol wouldn’t be either. Even more importantly, just like Ana at first appeared like she would be perfect for Eddie in 312, starting out in a “it just happened” sort of way and with supposedly being fated because she happened to guess correctly that Eddie stands for Edmundo, this thing with Marisol might look in the moment like it’s exactly what he was looking for, but it will fizzle out as well.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the incredible @whosoldherout​​, there are no words to describe how much I love your gifs and appreciate you!

~~ Thank you to anyone supporting these meta posts. I could never express enough how grateful I am and that they continue to exist thanks to you!

[kaleldobrev]

A Big Ask

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Supe Reader

Summary: Ben has a big ask for you

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Cursing (7x), Implied past threesome, Canon divergence, Some fluff

Authors Note: Takes place in the 1970s (cause why not?) | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

When it came to everyone in Ben’s life, you were the only one that he would remotely listen to. Not only were you his best friend and more than occasional fuck buddy, but you were also his wrangler. The only person that could talk Ben down from beating someone into a bloody pulp for getting his coffee order wrong; the only person that could talk him into bringing you along for a team up so he didn’t get trigger happy.

You and Ben had been friends since first meeting at the inaugural Herogasm in ‘52. You were a bright eyed 18-year-old who wanted nothing more than to make a lasting impression on her two favorite Supes: Liberty and Soldier Boy; and boy did you, as the very next day, Vought called you and offered you a job.

You weren’t entirely sure as to why you were the only person Ben would remotely listen to; but, at this point, you had made the assumption that it was because you’ve been best friends with him for over 20 years — the longest friendship for both of you.

It was a usual Sunday morning for you, as there was a hefty sounding knock at your apartment door. Stretching quickly, you jumped out of bed and grabbed your silk forest green robe, tying it at your waist before heading toward the front door.

Upon opening it, Ben appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the doorframe, holding a white Styrofoam cup in hand with your name written on the side in jet black Sharpie. “Special delivery,” Ben said, handing you the cup.

“My usual I’m assuming?” You questioned, taking the semi-hot cup from his hand. He simply looked at you dead in the eyes. “I’m kidding,” you said, playfully hitting him in the chest. “Come in,” you smiled, turning your back toward him as you walked inside.

Ben strolled right in, practically making himself at home as he shut the door behind him and kicked off his boots; not bothering to place them to the side next to the door where your boots were usually placed. Not even turning around you said, "I hope that's the sound of you putting your boots next to the door."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Yes ma'am," he said, his tone slightly annoyed. He picked up his boots, mentally cursing at you as he placed them next to the door where they originally should have gone when he walked through the door.

Taking a seat on the couch, you crossed your legs and took a good, long look at your friend. "So, what brings you here this morning?"

“Wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, taking a seat next to you on the couch.

“What is it?” You asked. The way he looked at you was different compared to all the other times he had ever looked at you. What was usually a look similar to that of longing, now looked similar to that of fearfulness. Placing a hand on his thigh, you looked him in the eyes, hoping to give him a slightly reassuring look. "Ben, you know you can tell me anything."

"I know, it's just...it's a big fucking ask Y/N," he said, his tone starting to scare you just a little. "But..." he sighed. "Hey, you still have some of that whiskey I gave you the other day?" He asked, abruptly getting up from his spot on the couch; his vocal tone completely changing of that of almost pure glee mixed with some nerves.

"Yeah...in the usual place," you replied, pointing over to your whiskey cabinet. "Ben, it's 7 in the morning."

He walked over to your whiskey cabinet and scoffed, as he took the almost full bottle from it. "Okay and? I'm Soldier Boy. I can do whatever the fuck I want."

You rolled your eyes at his comment. "Just pointing it out," you stated. And you don't do whatever the fuck you want cause I make damn sure you don't, you wanted to add. "So, what did you want to ask me? Because I'm sure it wasn't about the whiskey."

Ben grinned. "No, no. I actually do have to ask you something," he said, walking over to you. He stood over you for a second, unscrewing the bottle. "Make it Irish?" You looked up at him, not removing the lid from your coffee as you had no intention of having alcohol this early in the morning. "Give it to me." Sighing, you gave him your coffee and he removed the lid, throwing it halfway cross the room — you were never going to find that lid anytime soon — and poured a good shot and a half of whiskey into your coffee before handing it back to you.

"Wow, you shouldn't have," your voice monotone, taking back your coffee; the intense smell of whiskey now filling your nose.

"No problem Sugar," he winked before sitting back down next to you. Before he began talking, he took a giant sip. "So, Legend came up with this stupid fucking idea that I need some kind of romance storyline," he scoffed. You tried your best to prevent yourself from laughing, but you couldn't help yourself.

Ben rolled his eyes as he watched you laugh. "See? If you're fucking laughing, the world will be laughing too."

"It's...it's not the worst idea but...I feel like you're the last person that can rock that storyline, I hate to tell you," you admitted. "I'm honestly shocked that they didn't pitch that idea to me."

"The only reason Legend didn't pitch it to you is because you already have a known soft side, I apparently don't," he scoffed. "He says I need to be more relatable," he half chuckled. "Relatable my ass," he mumbled.

"You know, showing your soft side might not necessarily be a bad thing for you..." you said, slightly eyeing him.

The way he looked at you, you might of well as told him to go fuck himself. "I'm no pussy."

"Having a soft spot doesn't make you a pussy Ben," you told him. He just rolled his eyes and scoffed, taking a long swig. "Believe it or not, you already have a soft spot, and your soft spot is me."

"Huh," he half chuckled. "Who knew?" Of course he had a soft spot for you. Who wouldn't have one for you? "Then I guess I know you'll say yes to my ask then."

"If you're so confident I'll say yes, then ask me already. I swear I've gotten older since we started this conversation," you grinned.

"Alright, alright, Christ," he mumbled. "Y/N, would you do me the honor of being my fake PR girlfriend?"

You smiled. "Thought you'd never ask."

Tag List: @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream @midorimachisenpaii @rachiem4-blog @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @globetrotter28 @deans-spinster-witch @mrlonelycat @zombie-freak @waywardlatina @crystal555 @missscarlettangel @livingordeadwhoknows If you'd like to be added to a tag list please follow this link

[findafight]

Tw for hospitals and use of of pain medication, infection, and canonical injuries, brief mention of the AIDS crisis. Ohhhh steddie dating pre S4 au where Robin has now been subjected at work to Steve both striking out spectacularly and flirting like he knows he's getting laid that night. She isn't sure which is worse. (The striking out is worse. She is glad her friend is happy. She's just painfully single and pining away)

The same stuff happens in s4 minus Robin and Eddie pushing Steve and Nancy together romantically (Dustin is trying to push Steve to both Robin or Nancy he's like dude these are girls you like why are you not making a move on them! I want you to be happy!!! And Steve rips his eyes away from Eddie's lips like huh?) But they're still like hey Nancy! It would be nice! If we could be friends maybe! And it's still awkward.

Robin is out here sweating and glaring at Steve and eddie trying to beam thoughts into Eddie's brain in the Upside Down like Eddie please cool it I know it's a stressful situation but stop staring at Steve's tits for five minutes pl-oh giving him your vest??? You think that's going to help? Ok buddy. I'm just going to. Distract Nancy up ahead a little bit while you and Steve chat aaaaand neither of you are listening. Fine.

And it's still a mess. Max and Eddie and Steve end up in the hospital. The ground split open but sealed itself once Steve cut Henry's head off. Everything is over.

Eddie gets discharged first, despite having more bites than Steve, because his didn't have two days to get infected with Upside Down nastiness. So he ends up camped out with Robin at Steve's bedside as he fights the infection with antibiotics (the doctors hope will work), pain meds, and a slight fever.

Which is to say, completely out of it and high as a kite.

So when Dustin visits and Steve is awake, he gets to see a big, goofy grin spread across his best friend's/adoptive older brother's face as he reaches out and says "dusssstyyyy! Cmere. Lemme. Boop you." And yeah, okay, it makes him feel a bit like a baby but Steve is out of it and apparently drugged Steve likes to Boop his younger friends noses. Dustin can accept that. He sighs and leans forward and allows his nose to be booped.

Steve giggles and smiles and pats his head. "Good to see you, man"

Dustin smiles, a bit watery because it's hard to see Steve in the hospital again, and because it was fucking terrifying to watch him nearly drop to the ground after making sure Eddie got treatment, only being caught by Robin. Dustin almost lost three people he loves, and he is so fucking glad they're all alive, if not well.

"yeah, Steve. Good to see you, too. They say when you're allowed to blow this pop stand?"

Steve frons. "No. Still got Upside Down goobies in my guts, 'parently."

Robin sighs. "They said a few more days. Make sure the infection is clear and there's no suspicious side effects."

"yeah. That's what I said, Robin."

Dustin grins, then settles down beside Robin, across from Eddie. He hasn't said anything since Dustin walked in, but was playing with the sleeve of Steve's hospital gown and tracing patterns on his arm. He looks up at Dustin, and offers a small smile.

It's a bit weird, how close he's stuck by Steve this whole time, but Dustin guesses they probably bonded when they got sucked through the watergate, and that Steve saving his life really endeared him to Eddie. He hopes they can be actual, real friends once things settle. Given how much Eddie is at Steve's bedside, he thinks they're well on their way to it.

They all chat for a while, Steve sometimes getting off topic and dreamy, but looking happy even when he isn't quite following what they're all saying. Dustin is pretty sure Steve doesn't have his hearing aids in on top of the drugs, so he isn't really surprised.

His mom eventually bustles into the room, and fusses over Steve. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Let me know if we can do anything, I mean anything, to help, okay? I'm sorry I cant visit for longer today, but what with everything happening like this, I -"

"isss okay, Mrs. H...Ma." Steve corrects himself immediately, smiling. Dustin's insides always get a bit squiggly when Steve calls his Ma, Ma. Like they're actual brothers, and she's their mom, and no one could ever argue they're not family for real. What makes it better that it was Ma who insisted Steve call her that since January of '85, as though she knew just how much both Dustin and Steve needed each other like that.

"I'll be by tomorrow, okay, dear? Robin, you and Eddie are alright for tonight? I'll stay tomorrow but today I re-"

"it's fine! Seriously, Mrs. H. Don't worry about us. My parents will force me home tomorrow anyways, but tonight we're good." Robin grips at Steve's ankle, grounding herself. Dustin doesn't think there's been a day when she hasn't been in Steve's room. Doubts if the places were reversed Steve wouldn't have to be dragged out to shower and change clothes. They're so weird, but Dustin is glad Steve has someone older that loves him like Robin does. It makes it easier to not be able to spend all day with him like he wants to.

"okay. Alright." She leans forward and kisses Steve's forehead a few times, brushes some stray hairs out of his face, just like she does when Dustin is sick in bed. "You take care Steve, sweetheart, and make sure you let Robin and Eddie take care of you too." She turns to Dustin. "I'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye and then meet me down at the car, okay?"

Dustin nods, and his mom is out the door. He sighs. "Well. I guess I'd better head out." He gives Steve a hug, a bit awkward from Steve lying down, but it's fine, Steve wraps his arms around Dustin and tries to give him his normal double squeeze, but it's more of a press with his hands than anything. Dustin'll take it. "I'm glad you're getting better Steve. Glad we're all safe."

Steve's smile is soft, gooey in a way that he usually tries to hide. "Glad you're safe, too, man. Love you." Something in his smile sharpens, then. "Unlike some people in this room you actually...listened? When I told you not to be a hero. And didn't nearly almost die."

Eddie groans, dramatic. It seems like a game they're playing with each other more than anything, but it's a game Dustin doesn't know the parameters of, and it's jarring. "C'mon, Steve. I said I was sorry! I wasn't going to let Dustin get hurt."

Steve glares at Eddie, which would be more intimidating if he wasn't scrutching up his nose or propped up by pillows freshly fluffed by one Claudia Henderson. "Which is the reason why you're allowed in here even though you almost died. Dustin is safe, and that's good. But I'd've been so fuckin pissed if you died."

Robin snorts, pats Steve's hand. "Oh, buddy. You'd have been inconsolable."

"yeah. Exactly. it would have fucking sucked, Eddie. So. I'm still mad at you, even though I love you. Probably because I love you."

Which is. Not what Dustin was expecting. Sure, Steve was pretty open about his love. Especially after Starcourt, when he finally seemed to settle into something Dustin thinks of as comfortable with who he is. (Which is, actually, a big softie with a bit of a bitchy mouth) He's told Dustin he loves him before, and he's pretty sure he's told Max too. Steve says he loves Robin all the time, just not romantically even if Dustin doesn't think that's entirely true, but.

This feels different.

It is different, given the way Eddie squeaks a bit and sways towards Steve. "Steve..." He breathes, his eyes big and wet and wide. He swallows. "Steve. Dustin doesn't. He's still here, i--"

Steve's brow furrows. "Yeah? So? Did you not want...oh." something in the blankness that drops over Steve is scary, especially in comparison to how Steve's been open and lax the entire time Dustin's been in the room.

Steve turns his head slightly towards Eddie, ten slightly away, like he doesn't know if he wants to look at him or not. Dustin shuffles his feet, not quite sure what's going on, feeling awkward and wrongfooted. Robin stands, puts her hand on Dustin's shoulder, tries to turn him away and out the door, but Dustin isn't leaving when Steve's face is all stiff and blank like it is.

"steve--" Eddie sounds wrung out, wrecked. What the hell is going on?

Steve sniffs ever so slightly, interrupting Eddie. "You don't have to say it. You don't even have to-uh. To feel it, right now. That's okay. I've done that before. I can wait." Dustin sees a muscle twitch in his jaw. "But if you- if you don't think you can, I need to know now, actually. Because now Dustin knows but he's my brother so that's good and fine but if you don't want to--if you don't think this is gonna, like, be a long-term, tell people important to us kind of thing; if you're realizing that it's been long enough that you should feel that--that way about me but you don't, then I need to know because I don't want you lying about how you feel. I can't do that again. When you say it back I want to be sure you mean-"

"I love you too, Steve! Jesus fuck." Eddie blurts, apparently having had enough of. Well. Everything Steve was saying.

It's dawning on Dustin that maybe when Steve and Eddie said they knew each other they didn't just mean from highschool. That they. Well. Obviously they love each other. Which is....something to consider later because Steve looks like he's about to cry. Because Woah, Dustin has misread a lot between the two of them if they're...like this.

"yeah? You're sure?" He says, wobbly now he isn't rambling.

Eddie's squished himself more into Steve's space. "yes, yeah, of course Steve. Fuck. You met Wayne! I want you in my life, for a long, long time. I don't- I didn't do anything to make you think I didn't, did I?" His voice is a little rough, and little pleading.

Steve shakes his head, grips Eddie's hand in his m, even as Eddie uses it to support himself over top Steve. "No. I just. I know it freaks people out, is all, and I don't want you to freak out, or leave, or think you had to because we've been dating for a few months and I want to say it. It just came out because it's true."

Eddie laughs, leans in reeealy close to Steve. "Honey. It came out because you're high and morphene."

Steve grumbles a bit, but he's smiling too, and knocks their foreheads together. "Yeah. And also because it's true. I love you."

Eddie's eyelids flutter, Dustin can see, as he grins. "And I love you." He says, before closing the distance and kissing Steve squarely on the mouth.

Robin clears her throat. "As...heartwarming and sappy you two are. Dustin has to leave, and probably...has some questions? That he's not going to be a dick about?" She says this as she grips his shoulder tightly, in a way that is definitely a threat.

Dustin nods furiously. Eddie sighs but pushes away from Steve, not before pecking him again, drawing that dopey smile back into Steve's face. "Yeah." He says. "I'll walk you out Henderson."

Dustin waves goodbye to Steve, who seems cheery once again, wiggling his fingers are Dustin and Eddie, before walking out the door behind Eddie.

"so. How long have...has that been a thing?" He asks, as soon as they clear the doorframe.

Eddie huffs, but seems good natured about it. "Few months. December."

"okay." Says Dustin. "Uh. I didn't. I didn't know you...or Steve, I guess...I didn't know you guys were-" he lowers his voice, despite the hallway being surprisingly empty. "Gay."

There's something steely in Eddie's eye when he answers. "We're not. Well-we are, but we both also like women."

Something doesn't sit right about that with Dustin. "But! You just said-"

Eddie holds his hands up, and Dustin shuts his mouth on instinct. "You can like both while just dating one person, Dustin. Just because you like women doesn't mean you're going around with girls who aren't Suzie, right?" He nods. He adores Suzie, can't really imagine looking at any other girl like that because she's just. Amazing. She's his girlfriend and they love each other, and just because girls are pretty great doesn't mean Dustin wants anything other than friendship wi--oh. He sees where Eddie is going.

"right. Yeah. Sorry."

Eddie shrugs. "Steve kinda dropped a bomb in both of us, today"

""isn't it weird though?"

"well...girls and guys are different"

"they are indeed."

"so, if you like girls, why do you like...boys...too?"

"why do you like girls and not boys, Dustin?"

Which is hard to answer because, well. Dustin's never really thought about why he likes girls. He just does. And maybe that's what Eddie means. There's no reason, really. People just...like what they like.

Or there are reasons, because girls are pretty and often smell nice and Suzie looks like a mad scientist when her ponytail gets a little loose after hours of working on a project, her eyes glinting behind her glasses as she giggles and bites her lip, just a little. But that's mostly Suzie. So. He can't really put a finger on why he's only ever had crushes on girls, or why before last summer they've never been as much or as consuming as his love for Suzie. Never been anything like the long days spent together at camp building and creating and blasting ideas off each other, before one day Suzie took his hand and they ended up sneaking away to look at the stars, trying to outdo each other's knowledge about them and slowly being pulled into the other's orbit like binary stars. He's never really wanted to kiss anyone like he wants to kiss Suzie, not even when he had a brief and fleeting crush on Max.

"oh." Is what he says, and feels pretty lame for it.

Eddie shrugs. "You can't really choose who you like." He says before breathing in. "But you do choose who you love, and how you love them."

And. Well. Dustin thinks of his Ma sweeping Steve up into family dinners every other week, and how the party absorbed Max into it as easy as anything, and holding Suzie's hand as they looked up at the stars in dew covered grass feeling like the world starts and ends there, and of Steve and Robin cackling together and having seemingly no personal space or boundaries between them. And of Steve and Eddie, saying I love you for the first time in a hospital room after saving the world.

"That's pretty good." Dustin says, and Eddie smirks at him.

"yeah. Steve said it to me, way back on our second date."

Dustin scoffs. Because he should have known; it's so typically Steve to say something like that. "And you were surprised when he said he loves you?"

Eddie's eyes twinkle in the florescent lights of the hospital. "Nah. Just... it's different being pretty sure, and knowing for sure. I also didn't want him saying something in front of you he'd regret."

He nods. "That's fair. I...don't know how I would've taken it if Steve weren't in the hospital, honestly. Like!" He tries to reassure Eddie "I would have gotten over it, for sure! But if had had sat me ore the party down and talked it out I might've been, like, y'know. Super weird about it. Because. I mean. This talk is good, right? I'm think about things and thinking about how I've only ever really wanted to kiss Suzie, even if I thought about maybe abstractly kissing other people. And how we as humans have all these quirks that let us be human, but different, which enable us as a species to thrive." He heaves a breath. "But. Seeing Steve all loopy and saying it, and then being worried you felt pressure about it, I dunno. It makes sense, I guess. I don't know how you two met or got to know each other, but. I guess it makes sense, how you like each other. And talking to you now. It's helped, I think."

Everything is a bit scrambled in Dustin's brain, the love and the confusion and the worry, because it's setting in that in Hawkins, something like this, for Steve and Eddie, is dangerous. Something that could get them hurt or killed, scorned by the town they've helped save.

His mother always grumbles agrily when ads about how the virus going around is God's punishment for sinners, or how it's cleaning up the streets of unwanted people gays and addicts. She huffs, swears. Says that just because bigots don't consider the people getting sick as wanted or valuable, doesn't mean no one does. That no one deserves to get sick for things they cannot control, or for things they can. A smoker is more likely to get lung cancer, but that doesn't mean they deserve it more than someone who's never seen a cigarette.

Their families will mourn them the same.

They reach the main doors, and Dustin sees his mom has pulled into a pick up lane, blinkers on. He turns to Eddie, and burries his face in his neck.

Eddie takes it in stride, parting his back and giving him a bit of a squeeze. It's not as good a hug as Steve gives, but that bar is only really surpassed by his mom, so it's still a good hug.

"please be careful, Eddie."

"ah," says Eddie, and he pulls back slightly. "We are, man. You're close to both of us and didn't suspect. We know what we're doing."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. Now that he has context, a lot of interactions between Steve and Eddie in the wake of getting them out of the Upside Down seem a lot less friendly.

Eddie chuckles. "Seriously. We are. It was just hard during everything, and, well, we both feel safe around you guys. I think Steve's been gearing up to ask me if we can tell all of you sheepies soon."

"yeah?"

"yeah, bud. Don't worry about us."

"Considering you just got released and Steve is still in the hospital, I think a little worrying over you jackasses is justified."

Eddie smirks. "Fine. A normal and reasonable amount of worrying, then. But no more than that. Now, git! Your ma's waiting on you."

Dustin smiles, "yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

"yep. You know where to find me."

He waves again as he hopes into the front seat, and buckles his seatbelt before Ma can ask him to. He smiles at her, and feels oddly...grounded. a mystery has been solved, even if Dustin doesn't have all the pieces, he still has the big picture.

"everything alright, Dusty? Nothing wrong with Steve, is there?" She asks, even as she changes out of park.

"yeah, yeah. Just accidentally stumbled over something saying goodbye, and was worried about them. But everything is fine. Robin and Eddie have Steve handled."

They turn out of the hospital parking lot, heading for home. Ma smiles. It's softer, more indulgent than usual. "Yes. They're good for each other, I think. Compliment one another nicely."

Dustin doesn't bother asking which set she's talking about, thinks maybe they both know.

[poorlittleyaoyao]

one of my very least favorite "jokes" is people making fin of qin su for "not knowing her husband is gay" or the array of fics where he's zero eprcent interested in her from the jump. Like way to take out all the tragedy in service of biphobia

GODDDDDD, I saw that in the same set of post notes that set me off yesterday--"durr hurr, poor girl got tricked into marrying this gay guy." Like, HOW? The Jin clan are by far the wealthiest and most powerful sect, and the Qin clan is one of their bannermen, and QCY and JGS are buddies. If JGY were a mustache-twirling villain trying to boost his status with an advantageous marriage and/or a gay man desperate for a beard, he has better options than a clan of middling wealth and significance that is already under Lanling's sphere of influence.

And they both had to fight for this marriage to happen! "QS was tricked into marrying him" is wild to me, because IIRC it says RIGHT THERE that she took the initiative in this relationship! A relationship that neither her father nor his was super enthused about! JGY was out here bothering JGS for this! JGY, the guy who famously does atrocities if daddy says jump, worked with QS to make sure this marriage happened! After all, while QS has the most to lose if the pregnancy plan goes south, JGY's not totally off the hook either; JGS could've very well punished him to appease QCY. Why the hell would he go through ANY of that if he didn't love her?

Like... you could maybe make a case for him not being attracted to her in CQL, where it's implied that he didn't sleep with her until their wedding night and he hates every second of it a choice that haunts me every day because what the fuck what the FUCK. But even there, he states that he pushed for the marriage, and feared to call it off in part because he'd "spent so much effort, went through such lengths to ask Qin Cangye for permission to marry his daughter... I had finally satisfied both Qin Cangye and Jin Guangshan." So even here he'd worked for it! Potentially antagonizing two noblemen, one of whom is his father the Chief Cultivator, is not worth the potential material benefits here! Even here, the only explanation that makes sense is that he loves her!

Which, you know, he says himself that he does. He says that he loves her to Lan Xichen's face, even, so like... pretty weird lie for a gay guy to tell his boyfriend. And if JGY were lying about everything... wouldn't he think of something better? He could throw QS under the bus and say she forced him. He could say the marriage was his father's idea and JGS directly ordered him to marry her. Both of these options are more readily understandable (and paint him as truly without recourse) than "I felt trapped by the potential ramifications of defying social expectations."

Now, people can write what they want when it comes to fic; if you're writing a canon divergence fix-it, then yeah, an easy way to avoid the incest is to have him simply not into women at all. You can even make a compelling case for comphet that he doesn't recognize for what it is until it's too late if you try hard enough. But in terms of broader trends rather than individual fic, and given the fandom trends of erasing WWX's attraction to women across all canons, or ignoring WQ's whole situation with JC in CQL canon to make her a Mean Lesbian(TM)... are you sure there's not biphobia at play? Are you really sure?