#(sometimes i just need a break from all the boring ass monotony of “oh they get together and thats when they get happy. romance wins”)

[ohthefaggotry]

i both love and hate being into media with a very niche fandom, bcus on one hand i dont have to deal with the exhausting bullshit of larger fandom, but on the other hand it is sososo scary to see what the few ppl who are in the fandom are saying bcus what if your specific little guy is being neglected and tossed to the side, or worse, what if it is mainly shipping with zero substance and i hate it all

[jasmine-iroh]

Sparring Partners

Pairing: Zuko x f!reader

WC: 2.5K

A/N: howdyyyy I’ll be honest idk what this is besides self satisfactory fluff oops. send in some requests pls, I’m bored as heck!

Never let (Y/N) and Zuko spar.

That was an unspoken rule on Team Avatar after Zuko joined the group. The group had witnessed the aftermath of their practicing one too many times; angry gatherings of flames licking at the bark of uprooted trees scattered around piles of rubble and burnt grass.

Simply put, the pair were a force of nature. That wasn’t the reason they weren’t allowed to fight, though. No, nobody really paid much mind to their destructive tendencies, as long as they weren’t too close to camp.

It was their moods after the fight was done that brought about the rule.

Zuko would slink away to his tent and brood, grumbling at anyone who ventured too close to him. (Y/N) would stay with the group, a grin stuck to her face the whole time. It wasn’t a smile that put anyone at ease, though. It was feral, the snapping teeth and predatory curl of her lips more suited to a big cat than a young girl. Even Katara, who was usually found near (Y/N)’s side, avoided sitting too close.

(Y/N) was never mean to the others, but she had a razor sharp edge to her for hours after the duel that made Aang shift nervously in his seat and Sokka focus more on being the meat guy than the sarcasm guy. Suki would stay on edge until it was finally time to split up into their individual tents. Her fighting instincts would be on alert at the scent of scorched earth coming from (Y/N), a completely different smell from the smoke from the campfire.

Zuko, of course, would be the one to start said campfire. There was a tense, almost shy set to his shoulders as the weight of wild eyes bore down on him from near Toph. Toph, incidentally, never seemed to mind the rumbling of thunder in (Y/N)’s voice after a fight with Zuko, or the way Zuko’s heart beat staggered whenever (Y/N) so much as walked past him.

Toph didn’t care if the pair sparred, as long as it would get them over their timid dance around camp. She thought it was an entertaining break in the monotony of training and hiding, and the feeling of (Y/N) earthbending with such raw emotion was as sappy as any romance story there was. It was truly hilarious to her that nobody else could connect the dots between the unbridled chaos of their fighting and their quiet moments together around a campfire.

**

It had been a few days since the last incident when Toph finally decided to ask (Y/N) what their deal was during a training session.

“So, what’s up with you and Sifu Hotman?” She asked, a slightly maniacal laugh falling past her lips when she managed to catch (Y/N) off guard and nail her in the side with a boulder. Toph had taken to using Aang’s ridiculous nickname after she realized how quickly she could get under Zuko’s skin with it. Payback for Zuko burning her feet, she had justified.

Coughing and sputtering from the blow, (Y/N) tried to deflect the question with a volley of rocks she’d been keeping suspended in the air long enough for Toph to half lose track of.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Toph huffed indignantly, dodging the attack before shifting her feet and sending the slab of earth below (Y/N) tilting sideways.

“No, I just saw a weakness and used it,” (Y/N) laughed and leapt from her crumbling perch to position herself in the middle of the sparring area, knowing that Aang, Zuko, Suki, and Sokka were somewhere behind her. Toph wasn’t stupid, she knew (Y/N) was trying to get into a position that would make Toph go easier on her with their friends in the line of fire.

Oh (Y/N), you really think you’re clever, don’t you? Toph thought with a smirk as a plan formed in her mind, pressing her knuckles into the dirt and twisting them sharply. She felt (Y/N)’s growl before she heard it, knowing that the other girl hated when Toph locked her feet into the earth. This time, though, she kept her hold on the rock, sitting down and waiting for (Y/N) to answer her original question.

“Toph, c’mon!” (Y/N) whined, trying to free herself as Toph sat a few meters away laughing.

“Just tell me and I’ll let you go!” Toph called back, bending herself a chair from the earth with one hand while the other kept it’s grip on the rocks around (Y/N)’s ankles.

“You’re such a little jerk,” (Y/N) answered instead, looking around for something to help her. She was weak without being able to use her feet as her center, something Toph had been hounding her about forever.

“I thought best friends told each other everything,” Toph mocked as she felt the others stop fighting to watch the scene in front of them.

“Yeah, but you also told me you’d throw me off Appa because I took Momo’s seat last week,” (Y/N) replied, crossing her arms stubbornly. Toph was a stronger bender, but (Y/N) had more patience, knowing Toph could get bored or frustrated pretty quickly. That’s how they’d always been, ever since (Y/N) had been sent to live with her helpless, blind little cousin all those years ago.

“What’s going on?” Aang asked the pair, scootering over on a ball of air with a peeved looking Zuko trailing behind him.

“(Y/N)’s keeping secrets from me and acting like I won’t find out,” Toph accused, watching as Suki and Sokka joined the group. Katara, who had been assigned camp duties for the day, drew closer at the lack of fighting sounds.

“Toph,” (Y/N) warned, a sharp threat in her voice as the sound of a tree being pulled up at the roots echoed around the clearing as (Y/N) clenched her fists.

“Yes?” A challenge in her voice, her fist twisting further into the earth and sinking (Y/N) up to her waist in tightly compressed rocks.

“Enough.” Zuko stepped in between the pair, and Toph couldn’t help but notice the spike in his heart rate when (Y/N) dropped up to her shoulders in rock.

“Zuko, stay out of this. Toph’s just being a pain,” (Y/N) huffed, having a hard time breathing with the merciless press of dirt and rock around her chest.

He didn’t stay out of it of course, his heart beating faster than a bird's wings as he watched (Y/N) struggle in the ground. Toph thought the duo were nauseatingly oblivious.

She let out a frustrated growl and slammed her foot on the ground, sending Zuko sprawling flat out next to (Y/N) and encasing his hands and feet in earth.

“Fine. You can both stay here until one of you tells me, then.” Toph declared before standing and walking away from the pair. The rest of the group looked from Toph back down to their friends buried in the ground, and decided that maybe they didn’t want to end up stuck next to the pair. They walked off, promising to talk to Toph and have her fix this.

“Spirits, she’s such a little bastard,” (Y/N) mumbled, turning her head to look at Zuko. She blinked in shock, not expecting his face to be quite so close to hers. A tricky little bastard, the girl amended in her head.

“What were you two fighting about?” Zuko asked quietly, not having to speak much above a whisper with their proximity. Had his eyes always been so golden?

“She asked about what was going on between us,” (Y/N) answered, closing her eyes and turning her head away from him towards the sky. The sun pressed red kisses against her closed eyelids while the breeze played with her hair, making her feel for a moment that she was laid out next to Zuko in a spring meadow by choice instead of locked into the dirt by Toph.

“What did you tell her?” He kept his voice low, tone conspiratorial. He stared at (Y/N), the sun loving her throat and pressing kisses to her cheekbones. He thought, just for a moment, that Toph had done him a favor by locking him into this view.

A laugh, and then, “I didn’t tell her anything.”

“Why not?” He prodded, wishing (Y/N) would turn her head so he could… could what? He thought to himself, images of him wiggling closer and closing the distance between them flickering in his mind without warning. A warm blush crept up his neck at the thoughts, wishing he wasn’t so affected by their proximity.

“Because sometimes you need to let Toph think she holds all the cards so she’s a little less of a pain in the ass. And so she wouldn’t question what we really do when we spar,” (Y/N) whispered, opening her eyes and turning to face Zuko. She met his amber gaze immediately, a grin pulling at her mouth as she leaned closer to him, feeling the heat radiating off his body.

“Oh, you mean that thing where you torment me with your comments all day around camp and then try to play innocent when we’re alone?” Zuko huffed with a smile as he wormed his way closer.

“Hey, don’t get mad. I just saw a weakness and used it,” (Y/N) giggled as she leaned in towards him. Her gaze flickered briefly from Zuko’s eyes, to his lips, and then back to his eyes in a way that made him feel like the ground was falling out from under him. He leaned up to meet her halfway, falling just short of being able to seal their lips together. A soft groan from (Y/N) pulled a chuckle from Zuko’s throat, before his head flopped back down onto the packed earth.

“Such a little bastard,” he heard (Y/N) mutter a moment before her face contorted and rumbling from around them was heard.

Zuko’s hands and legs were freed from their earthen prison, letting him roll away only a second before (Y/N) rose up from her hole on a pillar of earth. She hopped down gracefully and brushed her clothes off before helping Zuko to his feet, that wild look back in her eyes.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Zuko asked, brushing the dirt out of his hair.

“I can put you back, if you’d like,” (Y/N) hummed, stepping closer to him and giving him that sharp grin that sent his stomach fluttering.

“I’m fine right here, thank you,” he replied, a deep blush staining his cheeks as (Y/N) pulled him close and finally, finally, pressed her lips to his own in a slow kiss. He returned the kiss eagerly, loving the warmth of her hand cupping his jaw with gritty fingers as the other tangled in Zuko’s mop of hair.

The pillar she’d used to free herself moments before was now scraping against his back as (Y/N) traced a lazy trail of kisses along Zuko’s jaw. He let out a sound that was suspiciously close to a whimper and felt a thrill go up his spine at the glint of absolute trouble reflected in (Y/N)’s eyes when she pulled away.

“How long do you think we have until they realize we’re not stuck anymore?” She pondered, pressing delicate kisses up the side of Zuko’s throat and along the edges of his scar.

“Enough time to get a head start and cover our tracks.” His eyes moved deliberately to the forest away from camp, before flicking back to hers with a bashful quirk of his eyebrow. His breaths trembling, he tried to ignore how his nerve endings were alight with the feeling of (Y/N)’s lips on his skin.

“Very tempting, but I don’t feel like listening to Mother Katara yell at us for ‘running off and worrying the group,’” (Y/N) whispered back, pressing a kiss to Zuko’s chin before moving to pull away. His arms snaked around her waist quickly, locking her against him.

(Y/N)’s brows shot up in pleasant surprise at his actions. She had been the one to make moves from the start, more accustomed to touch that wasn’t soured by pain or anger. Zuko figured she’d like to have more physical affection from him, but the long nights spent untangling his emotions in return for a kiss were enough to keep her happy and moving at his pace. Zuko had been without a loving hand to hold for so long that he forgot how simple and sweet an embrace could be, how the pad of a thumb rubbing across bruised knuckles could soothe his aches better than any balm.

Feeling bold between the column of earth and (Y/N), Zuko leaned down to her height and pressed a gentle kiss against her lips, retreating before she could respond. The girl only grinned widely, wrapping her arms around his muscular torso. A puff of air left Zuko’s lungs as he was pulled into her strong arms, before tightening his own arms around her waist and pressing his face into the crook of her neck.

“We have to at least make Toph think nothing’s changed, or we’ll never hear the end of how she’s so right and it's everyone else who is really blind,” (Y/N) told him, pitching her voice in Toph’s bratty little sister voice she used when she won arguments.

“Let her. I’m tired of not being able to be like this whenever we want,” Zuko replied, his warm breath against the side of her neck sending a wave of goosebumps over (Y/N)’s skin. It shocked her in the most pleasant way possible to hear him say that to her, since they’d agreed to keep things quiet until he could figure out his emotions.

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when she makes you wish you were hard of hearing,” (Y/N) laughed, nudging his head back up to face her. Her senses were filled with Zuko, the smell of smoke filling her nose as the heat from his body scorched a pattern into her heart. Their noses brushed once, twice; their lips a breath apart.

Before either could close the distance, Toph marched around their column of rock, almost slamming straight into them. In a breath, she was gone again, back the way she’d come.

“I knew it, I was so right! You losers are so blind!” She shouted to the others.

Her sudden appearance had shocked the pair apart, making (Y/N) quirk an eyebrow and pulling a rare grin from Zuko at the astounding accuracy of (Y/N)’s impression of Toph.

“Just remember, you brought this upon yourself,” (Y/N) laughed, turning to walk back to camp. Zuko’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, reeling her back in towards him so he could seal a lingering kiss against her mouth.

“I know, but that was worth it,” he hummed, walking alongside her back to camp, their fingers tangling together without a second thought.

[dothwrites]

Cas using Enochian pick-up lines on oblivious Dean. Dean doesn't get them, Cas feels rejected each time, and Sammy is done with it all! Can I have that fic, pretty please?

ah, this has been sitting here for a WHILE, so i’m sorry that i’m trash 

lost in translation

---

It begins when Dean is pathetically trying to impress his crush. 

Or at least that would be Sam’s take, if Dean cared enough to ask him. 

Dean would rather say that it began with a simple misunderstanding, one which could happen to anyone. 

He doesn’t ask Cas’ opinion of the situation (and Cas would say that’s the whole crux of the problem). 

Whoever has the correct perspective, no one would argue about the beginning of the affair. It starts one afternoon when Dean is contemplating switching Sam’s creamer with buttermilk, just for a break in the monotony. Cas is with him in the library, his customary suit and coat exchanged for a hoodie and a comfortable looking pair of jeans which Dean suspects used to belong to him (there’s something vaguely familiar about that hole in the knee, and it wouldn’t be the first time Cas has pilfered his room for clothing; several of Dean’s shirts have ended up upon the angel’s body. Cas always seems perplexed when Dean calls him on his thievery, plucking at the shirt with faint confusion--Oh this? I found this down in the laundry room a few days ago and thought it looked familiar, do you want it back? And the question is phrased so forlornly that Dean can’t help but allow Cas to steal another article of clothing out from under his very nose.). Cas dresses down these days. And slouches. Right now, his chin is in danger of disappearing into his chest. The sight delights Dean. There for a while, he hadn’t been sure Cas was capable of relaxing.

It’s an overwhelmingly quiet afternoon. It’s nice, because Dean loves to spend time with Cas when there’s no imminent blood or monsters on their horizons, but it’s also boring. Dean sneaks a glance at Cas over the top of his book. Cas seems perfectly content to sit all day reading some godawful thick, leather bound tome. Dean finds himself less than content, but he doesn’t want to leave Cas. He sighs, shifting in his seat as he pretends to read. After a few more minutes, he sighs again, this time with a little more spite in the sound.

(Dean’s about three seconds away from kicking his feet and whining I’m bored, but Cas doesn’t need to know that.) 

Cas mutters under his breath. Dean recognizes the guttural syllables of Enochian, which is Cas’ go-to language for when he’s saying something hateful and he doesn’t want to get called out on it. Tough luck for him, though, because Dean’s heard one of those words enough to parse its meaning. 

“Did you just call me stupid?” he demands, slapping his book down on the arm of the chair. 

Castiel looks at him, his eyes wide with surprise. “You...understood that?” he asks. “You understand Enochian?”

Not in the slightest, is what Dean should say. He understands one word, and that’s only because Cas uses it enough as an insult that it managed to stick in his mind. But something that looks like fondness, and admiration, and other nice adjectives which Dean would like Cas to apply to him, shines at the edges of Cas’ eyes. So he rolls his eyes a little bit (the audacity of Cas! Asking him if he bothered to study something which was not strictly required!) and scoffs, “Uh, kind of hard not to at this point, you know, what with...” He waves his hand at Cas, hoping that the vagueness of the gesture will cover a multitude of sins. 

And really, he should come clean. If the past fifteen years have taught him anything, it’s that nothing good comes from lying to your nearest and dearest. But this is just a little white lie. Like when he was sixteen and he told Brandy Fletcher he could play a rocking drum solo, because he wanted to impress her and there was no way he would ever be called upon to perform such a task. This is just a little fib, made so that Cas doesn’t think he’s a fucking idiot. 

Plus, there’s something which looks horribly similar to gratitude shining in Cas’ eyes. The emotion brims over until those baby blues can hardly contain it, and Cas looks so goddamned happy. Dean’s not a monster. He’s not going to take that away from Cas just so he can come clean with a Gotcha! moment. 

Cas bites at his lower lip, looking uncommonly shy. Worry starts to stir in Dean’s gut, which is only compounded when Cas says something else in soft yet clear Enochian. As the new phrase doesn’t have the word stupid anywhere in it, Dean doesn’t have the slightest idea of what Cas is saying. The guilt squirming in his stomach gets worse when Cas looks at him, with gentle anticipation, as though he’s expecting a reply. Dean does what humans have been doing since the beginning of time when confronted with a language they don’t understand and smiles, wide and sunny, at Cas. Cas’ forehead creases but he returns the gesture. His eyes are still brimming over with emotion and the sight does something to Dean. 

Dean begins to suspect that he may have started something which he is not equipped to finish. 

---

After that, things get a little weird. Considering Dean’s general life, that’s saying something. 

Dean catches Cas looking at him more, like Cas is having a one-man staring contest with the side of his face. Cas staring at him is nothing to write home about, but his looks have gained new intensity. It makes Dean’s innards squirm with worry as well as something deeper. He’s not willing to examine that feeling any closer, though it is pleasant. 

As if the soulful looks weren’t bad enough, there’s also the thoughtful slant of Cas’ eyes to worry about. Every time he looks at Dean, he looks like he’s working himself up to something momentous. Since momentous decrees from Cas usually come hand in hand with world-ending events and revelations, Dean thinks he can forgiven for dodging Cas’ presence. 

It does him no good: the bunker, for all its space, is only so large in the end, and Cas was once a heavenly messenger who has the patience of millennia. Add that to the fact that Dean needs to eat at least twice a day, and the game of Cornering Dean becomes a game of cards, in which the deck is stacked firmly in Cas’ favor. 

Dean sneaks into the kitchen sometime between midnight and two am. If Sam caught him, then he would get a talking-to about the most appropriate times to eat, better digestive function, and the ravages of heartburn in a man his age, but it’s not his brother sitting at the table when Dean flicks on the light. 

It’s Cas, who blinks owlishly at him, before his face splits into his brightest smile. 

(Cas’ brightest smile is an awkward, crooked little thing. On a regular human being it would be considered unbecoming. On Cas, it’s a thing of glory.)

“Dean,” Cas greets him. Hearing his voice in that low, rough voice never fails to send a little shiver down his spine, and today is no different. “This is an odd time for a snack.” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, a little lamely. The shock of finding Cas in the kitchen has kind of killed his appetite, but it’s not like he can turn around and leave. “Just, you know, had a craving. Why were you here?” 

Cas looks around the kitchen, his mouth pursed. “I like it here. It’s peaceful.” 

Dean looks at him, waiting for the punchline. “You were sitting in the dark, dude.” 

“Oh. Well, I don’t need lights to see in the dark,” Cas says, as though the knowledge that his best friend has some freaky see in the dark cat eye nonsense going on with him isn’t the weirdest thing Dean’s heard all day. 

“Great.” Dean opens the fridge and pulls out a container at random. He spares one second to hope that Sam got rid of all the moldy food before he samples the contents. “Well, I think I’m going back to my room now.” 

He wants to get out of here, not so much because he doesn’t want to talk to Cas (he has no problem with late-night chats with Cas, it’s just that he would prefer such chats take place in his room, preferably in his bed, preferably while both participants were significantly less dressed), but because Cas is starting to get that look again, like he’s getting ready to drop an atomic bomb’s worth of shit on Dean in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Dean.” Cas stands up. He twists his fingers together before he realizes what he’s doing, and then places them flat against his thighs. He takes a deep breath. Before Dean can stop him, Cas opens his mouth. 

Low, rolling syllables flow through the kitchen, the harsh notations of Enochian softened by Cas’ voice. There’s a question in Cas’ eyes, and Dean would answer it, if he only knew what Cas was asking. 

The kitchen falls into silence. Dean gets the distinct impression that walking away is not the appropriate reaction. If only he knew what the appropriate reaction was. 

He settles for plastering a fake ass smile on his face and loosing a brittle laugh which threatens to shatter the lighting fixtures. The corners of his mouth hurt from the wideness of his smile, but not even the small twinge of pain can take away from the brief flash of hurt in Cas’ eyes. 

“Yeah. You bet.” Dean barely restrains himself from giving Cas a big thumbs up.

Cas’ face, if possible, turns even more disconsolate. Dean’s stomach twists at the sight. 

This would be the correct moment to confess. Cas, I don’t have the faintest idea what you said, but I’d really like it if you could say it again in English, so that I could maybe comment on it. Sorry I’m such a jackass. 

Dean does not confess. He reaches out and claps Cas on the shoulder, almost buckling Cas’ knees under the friendly contact. Dean almost stops, but he continues to his room, trying to erase the memory of Cas’ stricken face. 

---

It gets worse. 

Cas says something in Enochian to him the next morning, a tiny, hopeful smile darting across his face. Dean gives him a weak smile in return and tries not to focus on the longing, almost desperate tone of Cas’ voice. “Ok, Cas,” he says, when it becomes clear Cas is angling for something more than a smile that makes it look like he ate some bad tacos. 

Cas takes him by the wrist. This time the syllables which come out of his mouth are almost frantic. His eyes are wide and imploring, and his voice cracks on the last word. 

The truth, Dean. Tell him the truth. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says. Confronted by the weight of his failings and his inadequacies, he flees. All the while, he feels Cas’ eyes on his back. 

---

It gets worse. 

Cas continues to mutter Enochian at him, alternating between frustrated, hurt, mocking, and pleading inflections. Each time, Dean looks at him in a mixture of helplessness and shame. 

The last time Cas tries, there’s a faint snap and tingle of grace curling around the room. Dean can taste it in the air, ozone and electricity, before it makes the lamp closest to him spark and pop. “Great, now you’re killing the furniture,” comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. 

Cas recoils as though Dean reached out and slapped him. He says something else in Enochian, his voice small and defeated. He won’t even look at Dean. 

If Dean were a better person, he would come clean. He would apologize to Cas and beg his forgiveness. He would take Cas’ scorn and irritation and lump it in with the rest of the shit that’s gone wrong with his life, and they would move past this. 

Dean’s not a good person. Hell, he’s not even an okay person. He’s a piece of shit who got a hell of a lot luckier than he ever deserved, and Cas is just naive enough not to realize that. 

---

It gets worse. 

Sam walks into the library one afternoon with a dazed look on his face which means he’s just emerged from being caught deep in a book. He runs his hands through his hair and only then seems to realize that Dean and Cas are sitting at opposite ends of the library, deliberately ignoring each other. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut. 

“You guys okay?” he asks, glancing back and forth between them. 

“We’re good,” Dean says shortly, flipping a page of his book with unneeded aggression. 

Sam flicks his eyes towards Castiel. Cas looks over the top of his book, his eyebrows twisted in a scowl. He mutters something most definitely not English under his breath, staring at Dean. 

Sam chokes on nothing. 

“You all right there, Sammy?” Dean glances at Sam, only to see that his brother’s face is bright red. 

“Yeah, I’m great.” 

Castiel says something else in Enochian, sounding more forlorn than angry. Dean didn’t think it was possible for his brother’s eyes to get any wider. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class?” Dean asks. He keeps his eyes on Cas, but the question is meant for both of them. 

“I think you two should really talk,” Sam says, looking back and forth between him and Cas. “I think you’re both missing some information.” 

“What do you mean--” Dean pauses as the obvious answer comes to him. “Hold on. You can understand him?” 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not in the room,” Castiel says, proving that he can speak English just damn fine when he wants to. Then, because Cas is an asshole whose main job is torturing Dean, he mutters something in Enochian. 

Sam snorts. 

If he didn’t know he would later regret it, Dean would put both of them in the ground. 

“Well, if you want someone to talk to you, then knock it off and speak English!” Dean snaps. “I’ve got no idea why you’re babbling on like that and looking like I kicked your puppy when I don’t answer.” 

Cas scowls, the full wrath of Heaven in his eyes. He starts what sounds like it will no doubt be a lengthy tirade (in Enochian of fucking course), before he’s interrupted by Sam. 

“Dean doesn’t understand Enochian, Cas!” he shouts. 

Two pairs of eyes snap to Sam. Dean’s are filled with furious betrayal, Cas’ with frustrated confusion. Sam ignores them both, rolling his own eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, look, I’m sorry to cut in your drama or whatever, and I’m sure that you two could keep this up for another three weeks, but I value my sanity. Dean, nut up and tell Cas you don’t speak Enochian. Cas, stop running into a brick wall and tell him what you want. I mean, good God, it’s like I have to do everything around here myself!” 

Sam’s complaining never ceases as he peruses the shelves for the particular book he’s looking for. Both Dean and Cas are referred to multiple times as idiots, sometimes assholes, and once even idjits. Throughout his litany of abuse, Dean and Castiel refuse to look at each other, though Dean does feel a telltale prickling at the back of his neck several times. Every time he looks at Cas, however, the angel has his eyes firmly fixed on his book. 

Dean wonders if Cas would get more pissed if he told him his book was upside down. 

“You ever think about how much pain and agony you could save me if you two assholes would just talk to each other?” Sam finally snaps. Arms laden with books, he levels a fearsome glare at the both of them. “For homework, neither of you are coming out of this library until you’ve actually talked to each other like rational adults. And if you make any weird noises, I’m going to smother both of you in your sleep.” 

He stalks out of the library, leaving Cas and Dean alone once more. Cas looks up from his book, finally realizing it’s upside-down, while Dean puts down his own book. They stare at each other for a long moment, then speak at once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t understand Enochian?” “What were you trying to say to me?” 

They stop. Dean swallows, gathers up all of his manly courage, and speaks. 

“So what were you trying to say to me? It must have been pretty exciting to get Sammy clutching his pearls.” 

Cas tilts his head. He considers Dean for a long moment before he crosses the space between them. Cas leans forward, putting his hands on the arms of Dean’s chair. The gesture boxes Dean in, a turn of events which Dean doesn’t struggle against. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t speak Enochian?” 

Pinned beneath Cas’ gaze, Dean squirms uncomfortably. Now that it’s just him and Cas, his deception seems childish. Would it really have been the end of the world if he’d told Cas he was too stupid and selfish to learn his language? It would have just been another disappointment in Cas’ life, but has it been worth these past few days of being at odds with Cas? 

Heat flushes along the bridge of Dean’s nose as he mutters, “I wanted you to think I was smart.” 

Damn super-angelic hearing. Cas doesn’t miss a beat, though his forehead creases. “You wanted...what? Dean, you are smart.” 

He says it so naturally, as though Dean doesn’t struggle over translations or speaking Latin or cross-referencing indexes or any of the thousand other things that seem to come naturally as breathing to Sam and Cas. “Yeah, sure, I’m a regular fucking genius,” Dean mumbles. 

“You’re capable of finding the problem with a faulty engine with a single look. You built your own EMF meter out of a spare Walkman. Despite your efforts to hide it, you’re very well-read, and you have an innate understanding of some fairly complicated mathematics. I’m not sure exactly what humans qualify as intelligent, but I feel as though all of those skills count.” 

Dean knows his whole face is red. Heat prickles along the tips of his ears and down his neck. “Jesus, Cas,” he mutters. Unable to withstand the force of those blue eyes, he darts his glance down towards the floor. “Most people don’t start sweet talking until the third date.” 

“Well, I’m an angel,” Castiel says, smugly, as though that solves every argument (not a bad strategy; that line’s worked for Cas for years. What else can you say after that?). 

“All right, I answered yours, now you answer mine. What were you trying to say to me?”

Amazingly, Cas’ cheeks color. 

“Come on, Cas,” Dean wheedles, when Cas doesn’t immediately answer. “I told you mine.” 

Cas looks off to the side. He actually shuffles his feet before he answers, “It was just a thought. I thought, maybe, we could...Never mind. It was stupid.” He looks back at Dean and rolls his eyes, showing how ridiculous he finds this whole trial. “I guess, roughly translated, it would amount of something like ‘If only he were as decisive as he is pretty, then there would be no problem’.” He forces a weak laugh. “I said it in the heat of the moment. I was frustrated.” 

Dean blinks in astonishment. Only one fact has managed to slip through the tangle of Cas’s words. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Castiel’s blush deepens. “Anyone who has eyes would think that,” he says, a little roughly. 

An automatic flush spreads across Dean’s cheeks, but he’s able to ignore that. He’s much more interested in what else Cas might have been telling him. “And what was something else you said?” 

Cas coughs. “’Your eyes are bright as the sunrise, yet they fail to see what is in front of them’,” he says. If possible, his already rough voice has deepened. 

“Another.” 

Cas doesn’t pretend coyness. “’You had my heart from the first time I saw your soul’,” he says, in a near whisper. 

Dean can’t hold himself back. He snatches Cas’ hoodie in his hands and drags Cas down to his level. Cas lets out a surprised grunt before he gracefully collapses atop Dean. He’s barely managed to balance himself on Dean’s lap before Dean’s lip are on his. 

Despite Dean’s rushed actions, the kiss is sweet and almost chaste. Cas’ lips are warm and chapped and utterly wonderful. At first, they’re stiff, but only for a second. Then Cas relaxes into the kiss, sighing happily as his hand cups Dean’s cheek. Cas’ stubble scratches against his chin. He’s going to bear the marks of Cas’ affection later, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

Cas parts from him, but not far. In fact, he’s close enough to Dean that when whispers a phrase in Enochian, his lips brush against Dean’s. 

A shiver of delight runs down Dean’s spine. Now that he knows the gist of what Cas was trying to say to him, Enochian fills him with illicit glee. “What did that mean?” 

Cas kisses him again, adding a cunning sweep of his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips. “’Of all the stars in the heavens, you shine the brightest’,” he translates, resting his forehead against Dean’s. 

Heat floods through Dean once more. It’s everything he ever dreamed of hearing. It seems impossible that he could have it. There should be a rule against it. Dean Winchester doesn’t get what he wants. 

Except, apparently, Dean Winchester does get what he wants, as evidenced by his lapful of angel murmuring Enochian endearments into his ear. “Hey Cas?” Dean tilts his head to catch Cas’ eye. “When I first saw you, sparks flew. How would you say that in Enochian?” 

Cas thinks for a second before a smile spreads across his face. “I’ll teach you,” he promises, before he pulls Dean’s face towards him once more. 

(Sam’s warning about making weird noises makes a lot more sense now.)

[drethanramslay]

Uncover

Pairing: Ethan x MC (Leah Garcia)

Word count: 4.8K

Summary: Leah goes on a date with the Tobias Carrick, Ethan's ex-best friend. The jealousy and anger which unfolds within Ethan, leads him to confronting Leah. But in midst of their confrontation, feelings are uncovered.

Author's note: It's angst in the first half and towards the end it's smut... I have differentiated it if you aren't comfortable :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @junggoku @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @ethanramseysgirl @samihatuli @loveellamae @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @zeniamiii @binny1985 (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list 😊)

Songs: Uncover by Zara Larsson and Missed you by The Weeknd

Forgive me if there are any mistake

Ethan was walking down the hallway of Leland Bloom's mansion. To be honest, he didn't even know where he was but his pride wouldn't let him go and ask for help.

Just keep going, you will eventually find the way.

That was his mantra in life. Whenever things became difficult, he would keep on pushing forward, never stopping. His mom left him? Study, work and get into a good college. Tobias and him had a fallout? Work harder, get into a better undergrad program than him and go on to join the best diagnostics team in the country. Naveen fell sick? Stuff all the feelings in a box, shut it and work hard till Naveen can stay alive.

He never stopped. He switched off his feelings and kept marching forward.

But when he met Leah, it felt like he came across a speed breaker, which forced him to stop. Forced him to breathe. Forced him to feel. Forced him to be human.

And the funny thing is that, he didn't know whether to be grateful or be terrified of this change.

Leah had a fiery spirit and a kind heart. They were so alike that it often took Ethan's breath away. They were the dream team, complementing each other. They worked like a well oiled engine, their dynamics so superior that they could complete each other's sentences.

Leah and Ethan.

Sunshine and E.

But being alike had its downfalls as well. Both of them were stubborn and had their head all the way up their asses.

He had still not forgotten the way she opened the door to her room in bra and panties. The way the golden rays illuminated her long tanned legs and the way the lace contrasted her flawless body, sent Ethan reeling through memories of them lying naked in that very bed.

And as if that wasn't enough, she stripped in front of him. The most incriminating thoughts ran through his head and he had to clench his fists to prevent himself from fucking her against the wall, having her scream his name, as her nails dug into his back. There would be red scars down his back but he would wear those scars as a damn medal.

But he was angry and furious as well. Going behind his back and calling that air head of an influencer made his blood boil. It went against the beliefs and the rules based on which, the diagnostics team was laid.

There are rules of the world that are meant to be followed. Monotony, no matter how boring it is, is the way of life. It's not always safe to shake things up. You never know what consequences arise.

On their way to the patient's mansion, they bickered like a married couple. June and Baz had a field trip seeing him being called out by Leah.

She called him a fucking diva.

All his life he had worked on building a reputation which commanded respect and awe but this girl just comes in like a wrecking ball.

Good lord, how can this woman make me pissed and turned on at the same time?! He grumbled internally as he turned the corner.

He heard Tobias's deep voice carry over."I must say Dr. Garcia, you are a vision and you take my breath away. Such a beauty-"

"Dr. Carrick if you want to flatter me, you are going about it wrong. Screw beauty, that's subjective." Leah said as she wrote in the chart, without sparing a second glance at him.

She walked past him and Ethan couldn't help but chuckle at Tobias's expression. Tobias just gave him a dark glare before following her. He was proud of his Sunshine.

But that momentary pride diminished as soon as it came.

Ethan walked to the exit and saw Tobias talking to her again, and this time, Leah was laughing and blushing.

Why that asshole-

"No I must say, not everyday do you see such bright minds as yourself."

"Thank you Tobias. You are too kind."

They were on first name basis?! When did that happen? Did I step into an alternate universe? Ethan thought as jealousy slowly burnt bright in his veins.

"So, can I buy you breakfast tomorrow? As an apology and a chance to get to know you better?" Tobias asked, his turquoise eyes shimmering in the sun.

"Dr. Garcia. We need to run couple of tests on Mr. Bloom. Time waits for no one." Ethan called out to her, cock-blocking them. He wasn't gonna lie, that was the most satisfying thing he had ever done.

Both of them glared but Ethan just held an impassive face, as if he didn't hear their small 'cute' exchange.

"Yes, Dr. Ramsey." She walked towards Ethan not before waving him goodbye.

They walked towards Helen, Baz's cute mini cooper. "Leah..." Ethan spoke, wondering how to frame his sentence without sounding like a jealous imbecile.

"Yup Dr. Ramsey?" She turned to look up at him.

"Tobias... He isn't a good man."

"God, Ethan! I think I can decide for myself." Leah rolled her eyes.

"No, you don't get it. He charms and lures woman to his bed and after he has sex, he leaves them high and dry. I don't want you to go through that pain."

She stopped and turned towards him, "Ethan I am no weak bitch. I'm not naive and he isn't my first date. I am just goofing around and I will do whatever I want because this is a free country. And, in a long time some guy has shown me attention so I'm not letting that slide-"

"Sunsh-"

"Shh! And about pain... I think I have experienced that because of you."

"Me?" He gasped out loud, his world stopping. Doesn't she know that my feelings for her are so strong that the thought of hurting her physically pains me?

"You heard me. Your constant rejection and the 'hot and cold' moments pain me so damn much. It breaks my heart that we pretend that we are together but when I ask you, you close up."

"Leah you know there are ethics-"

"Don't give me that ethics and moral crap. You yourself said that I am not a resident, I am a PEER. A colleague. Hell, Lahela and Harper have been dating and absolutely nobody has blinked an eye." She said with a steely voice.

Leah gave a sigh and Ethan could see the dark circles under her eyes. She looked so tired. "Ethan... I- I'm so exhausted. You can't reject me and prevent me from seeing a guy." With that she turned on her heels and walked away.

What just happened? Ethan thought, feeling shaken to the core.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leah wore a simple pencil skirt and tucked in her olive green blouse into the skirt. Her hands continued their daily chores, but her mind was so far away. When she thought about Ethan, she would get so angry that her hands would tremble.

Just who the hell does he think he is? Wasn't he the one who kept pushing her away? Wasn't he the one you said that "if I gave a damn about you, I won't be with you"?

What a damn hypocrite.

There was so much tension between them already. Ethan was giving her the cold shoulder and Leah returned it with such a punishing silent treatment that people on the entire floor could feel it.

They already had fought about the team giving more priority to rich and wealthy patients. And this entire Tobias situation made things even worse. She knew about their background, about how that his ex girlfriend, Stephanie bitch played both of them like a violin and ended up cheating on Ethan. She knew and yet she went ahead, flirting with him, repeating history.

What a hoe I am. Leah shook her head getting annoyed with herself. What has gotten over you Leah? When did you become a fucking hypocrite? Throwing yourself at other men so that you can make Ethan jealous?

Her feelings were in a flux. Sometimes, she wanted to jump his bones and other times she wanted to bash his head for being such a colossal pain in the ass. She craved him and wanted him to belong to her, but life isn't a wish granting factory.

She sighed and stared at her reflection, seeing how all the stress and workload was taking a toll on her.

I just need sleep...or some dick and then we will be golden. A girl gets tired using her own hand... Her conscience comforted her.

Picking up her bag she headed to the deli where she was supposed to meet Tobias for their so called 'breakfast' date.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tobias was a nice guy. He was kind, brilliant and handsome. He was a true gentleman. He held the door open for her when they entered the deli. He had an amazing sense of humor and managed to make her laugh till her sides hurt. He was intelligent and they had a great discussion on the American healthcare system.

Any other woman would have thought that he was the complete deal.

But she couldn't.

She couldn't help but compare him to Ethan. His cerulean eyes were so much darker than Ethan's stormy eyes. She couldn't help but think that she found Ethan's dark humor and sarcasm way better that the light hearted jokes. She couldn't help but think that in any discussion, Ethan would push her and challenge her rather than be a simp like Tobias who just would give in.

She couldn't help but think that absolutely no one would ever compare to Ethan.

Oh. My. God.

It is Ethan. Always has been and always will be.

And she hated herself for that. She was getting tired of waiting. Wasn't her affection enough for him? Why was there a need to complicate something that is already so simple?

Leah sighed internally. Tobias and her were walking down the driveway of the hospital. There were just talking about random things but Leah was not able to focus.

How could she when she had a mind shattering revelation that her pussy is whipped for a certain hard-ass diagnostician?

They were walking through the foyer and they stopped at the reception.

"So this is me." Leah smiled.

"Well... I enjoyed myself. " He gave a grin.

"I did too..."

"I sense a 'but'." The blue perceptive eyes noticing the hesitation.

Leah chuckled, racking her brain for a good reason. " Yeah... I'm sorry it won't work because we technically are rivals and I don't want to be seen fraternizing with the enemy."

Tobias stared at her some more, trying to see through the truth but Leah didn't flinch, even if her palms were getting sweaty.

"It's okay. I get it-" Tobias began talking but he was interrupted.

He was interrupted by Ethan's fist in his face.

Tobias crumpled to the floor like a paper doll and suddenly the entire hospital's eyes were on the three.

"Motherfucker." Ethan shook his hand because of the blow. He stretched and clenched his fingers, his knuckles an angry red.

"Ethan Jonah Ramsey! You have five seconds to explain what the hell was that?" Leah said, her eyes glimmering with anger.

"What is he doing here? Mass Kenmore is all the way downtown."

"Don't you dare tell me that thi-" Leah was interrupted by Tobias's painful groans. She helped him up and threw another glare Ethan's way.

"When you have got your head out of your ass, we will have a chat." Leah spoke.

"But sunshi- Hey don't walk away from me!" Ethan pleaded. Seeing Tobias so close to her made him so angry and he didn't realize his actions before it was too late. And the fact that she had an arm around his waist and was walking away, just made his heart heavier and cold fury seep into his veins.

Leah ignored him as she dragged Tobias to the first examination room she found. She made him sit on bed and immediately reached for a pair of gloves.

She started wiping the blood up with the help of a cotton swab, analyzing the injury with cool calculated eyes. There was a cut on his cheekbone which needed stitches.

Goddammit Ethan.

"You have blood on your shirt." Tobias pointed out and surely it was visible on the dark green blouse.

She shrugged nonchalantly as she picked up another cotton swab and dipped it in antiseptic. "Eh.. won't be the first time. I have ruined my fair share of shoes and shirts, but it's worth it."

They were silent as Leah continued being thorough in cleaning the wound. Suddenly, Tobias chuckled and Leah looked at him with one eyebrow raised.

"No...it's just funny to see Ethan so worked up. I think that's the most emotion I have seen from him."

"Really?"

"Yup. Do you know what happened between us?"

"I know what happened between the both of you..."

"And you still went out with me?" Tobias asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Leah sighed. The cat was out of the bag and there was no point hiding it anymore. "It's just... Ethan can be a robot. I'm tired and I needed fresh perspective. That's why I went out with you."

"Did it help?"

"Yes. No. Maybe? It just left so many question marks in my head.." she picked up the needle and thread, getting ready to sew his face.

"Well... When Ethan walked in on his girlfriend cheating on him with me, he just turned around and walked out of the room. But when he saw me talking to you, I'm on the ground, groaning in pain. Does it help?"

Leah sighed "It kind of helps.. but I am still pissed with him. He is an asshole." She grumbled.

"Congratulations, you have feelings." He said in a sing song voice.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was an awful day at work and Ethan sending withering looks her way didn't really help. She avoided him for most of the day because she needed to think.

Her feelings were all over the place. On one hand she felt angry with Ethan because that hard-ass isn't ready to confess the feelings that's written all over his face. And on the other hand, she felt like she was just being a whiny bitch on heat, complaining about everything. 

The internal war in her left her restless and irritated.

She unlocked the door to an empty apartment. All her roomates had driven down to Quincy for some music festival on their day off and were going to stay over for the night.

Leah would have gone with them, but a certain somebody had stormed into her room that morning and dragged her out of the comfort of her bed.

She stripped in the hallway and threw her clothes for a wash in the laundry basket. She slid on a long loose jersey and some fresh panties and headed to check the fridge for leftover lasagna Sienna had made the other day.

She was about to pop the tray in the oven when she heard the door bell ring. She saw through the peep hole and her eyes widened.

Ethan.

Maybe if I stayed quiet he would go awa-

"Sunshine, I know you are in there! I see your heels out here and your eyes through the peep hole."

Fuck Ethan and his observation skills.

Sighing she opens the door, where Ethan stood. A tense energy radiated from him and it made Leah jittery and on edge.

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, which wasn't really a good idea because it made her bare boobs more prominent. Ethan's eyes went down at the movement.

"Eyes up here, hero. What do you want?"

Ethan blushed pink and shook his head to regain composure. "We need to talk."

"Yeah no shit."

"Will you let me in at least? Unless you want the crime scene of my murder out here." Ethan tried to joke but Leah wasn't fascinated.

She side stepped and he entered her apartment. He always liked Leah's apartment. It was homey with all the colourful pillows and the various vintage art decorating the place. From the huge glass facade you could see parts of the bay.

They stood in the kitchen, neither of them spoke. They just stood in silence. Nobody knowing what to say.

"Why did you help him?" Ethan asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Because you punched him and he was on the floor, bleeding. I had too."

"We work in a hospital. Somebody else could have stitched him up...why did you? Do you have feelings for him?" Ethan asked as he placed his elbows on the island counter.

"Ethan.. Jealousy never suited you well." Leah said.

"Dammit sunshine! Just answer the question. Do you like him?!"

"What would you do if I liked him, huh?" Leah asked tersely.

Silence. Heavy breathing. Tension.

"Nothing right. You would just sit there, belly up and see me being whisked off by another guy."

"That's not-"

"Stop lying to yourself Ethan. You are nothing but a ball- less bastard who hides behind your so called 'beliefs' and 'rules' and what not!"

"Yes! I hide behind them because I want to see you grow and be better-"

"WHY?! Haven't I become better? Am I not growing to my potential?"

"And that's because I am not distracting you."

"Ethan, for a man who is so smart you are so dumb. Can't you see? Can't you see that you are in my thoughts?! That I am always thinking about you?! That I am always afraid that you will find someone else and leave me in the dust?!"

"Ethan it's too late because you are already a goddamn distraction."

Ethan's fists wrapped around the counter and he bent down, trying to calm his racing heart.

"God. I knew this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have come." He started heading towards the door.

"Yeah run away Ethan. Run away like you ran away when you saw Tobias having sex with your girlfriend, Stephanie. Run away like you did when Naveen was gonna die. Run away like you did to the Amazon when your feelings for me intensified. Run away like you always do." Leah was breathing heavily, angry and furious.

Ethan froze in his tracks before turned around, scoffing. "I'm not running awa-" Ethan tried reasoning.

"Oh really?! Every time I think that I am close to knowing you, you throw up your walls. Every time we have a moment, you distance yourself. The entire universe has been pushing us to be together but here you are, defying it and turning a blind eye to what we have. If that isn't running away, then I don't know what is."

"Sunshine please, don't." Ethan pleaded. He can't deal with feelings. It's too much for him.

"No. I'm tired of waiting for your affections. I'm tired of the mixed signals. I'm going to go to Tobias's house right now-"

"Are you giving me an ultimatum?" Ethan asked incredulously.

"Have you left me any choice?" She started heading to her room and Ethan followed her.

"Sunshine please don't go. I beg you. He isn't the man you deserve."

"If you can't grow a pair despite everything, then I can't help you. I'm free-"

She was interrupted when Ethan pushed her against the wall. "No. You won't be leaving this apartment. Even if it means tying you down."

"You are not my damn keepe-" Leah began but Ethan interrupted her again when he pressed his lips against hers.

They were kissing. After almost a year.

After a year of longing to touch each other.

After a year of pining over each other.

After a year of pain, heartaches and tears.

But all that pain and longing vanished when their lips collided with each other's.

Time stopped when his lips met hers, but the flutter only intensified. Leah's heart pounded in her chest as her knees got weaker. She could only focus on how hard his body felt against her small frame. But at the same time, his lips were soft and fervent against her mouth.

Ethan kept his eyes half open, sneaking a guilty peek at her every time he came back for air, just to make sure this wasn't a product of his imagination.

He wasn't sure if nature rooted for this moment or if his mind tricked him into a perfect present, but every breath he took, smelled like lavender, like spring time and for the first time since he'd known himself, he didn't feel scared anymore. He didn't feel like running anymore. If anything, the warm feeling of her lips was inviting and addicting.

They parted for breath. Both of them standing with their bodies pressed against each other, in the dim lighting of her room. "Ethan..." She said like it was a prayer.

"Oh how I've missed you sunshine." Ethan cupped her cheeks and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Me too.."

"Let's make up for the lost time, okay?"

Leah just went in her tip toes and kiss him, conveying her need for him. He hiked one of her legs up and she gasped when she felt his growing erection on her heat. Ethan bent down and placed hot, fiery kisses up her neck. When he reached the spot below her ear, he whispered is a husky voice. "Sunshine... I really, really like you. But, I am a man of needs... Please, can I fuck you?"

"I did not wait for a year for some gentle sex Ethan. Don't hold back." She purred.

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

Ethan groaned at her words and took her earlobe in his teeth, his hands roaming around her body. He pinched her nipples through the t-shirt and Leah's stomach clenched with pleasure and she threw her head against the wall, enjoying the way Ethan's hands made her feel.

Leah reached and took of his jacket and Ethan obliged. The need to feel her skin against his, fueled his moments. Taking of her t shirt, he threw it across the room.

"Hey, don't dirty my room." Leah spoke with feign anger.

Lifting her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist, he went back to kissing her lips. "I don't care, sunshine. I just want to make you feel good. I want to worship you. So let me just do my job while you focus on how to scream my name, mkay?" He whispered against her lips before going back to ravaging her mouth, not able to get enough of her taste.

How is it possible for a man to drive me mad with only words?

He lifted her and threw her unceremoniously on the bed. Leah giggled as her back hit the soft mattress. She lifted herself on to her elbows and looked at Ethan's dark stormy eyes.

"You are over dressed for this occasion, Dr. Ramsey."

Taking his shirt and jeans off, he crawled in to the bed, stalking her like a predator. He settled between her legs, bare chest pressing against each other as he kissed her hard.

Their tongues swirled and rolled against each other's, as if it was a tug of war with no clear winner. He pulled back and started placing searing hot kisses on collarbone. His hands traced her sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He took her breast in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the dusky nipple. As his tongue continued to assault her nipples, Leah grew wetter and wetter.

"Ethan.. I- please.." She moaned out.

He took off her panties and nipped at her naked hip bone, eliciting a breathless moan from her. He peppered scratchy kisses on her inner thighs and lower abdomen, his beard making her skin sensitized. It felt as if all her nerves down there were on fire.

"Don't worry sunshine. I will be here all night-" he said as he parted her pussy's lips, "-eating you-"

He blew air on her dripping slit before speaking, "-fucking you-"

He lapped her juices slowly, his blazing blue eyes making contact with her dark brown orbs "-making you scream my name all night."

That being said, he threw her legs over his shoulder and buried his face into her womanhood. Leah's back arched and she let out another moan. Her sexy moans and the way her eyes fluttered shut was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He closed his eyes enjoying the way she tasted, reminding him of how starved he had been for the last one year.

She fisted her hands through his luscious brown locks as his tongue swirled her sensitive nub. He enjoyed seeing his sunshine this way, moaning and writhing as he ate her out.

He slipped his finger into her started moving it. When he gained enough momentum he slipped a second digit and continued to finger her to oblivion. Leah was a in a daze. Her mind was only focused on the handsome man who was with her, in her bed.

She had touched herself, thinking about him. But none of those fantasies compared to the real deal.

He let out moan and it reverberated through her entire body, pushing her of the edge.

She was coming, hard and fast. Crashing and soaring at the same time. She hadn't even come down from her high when Ethan lifted her leg as far as it could go, and entered her pulsating cunt.

"Try not to ruin your manicure when you dig those nails into my back, sunshine." Ethan said as he snapped his hips and started pounding her.

The sensation was overwhelming. It was so much. There were moments like these when the pleasure and the pressure of the orgasm was so intense that she wanted him to stop.

She shouted his name and the way the tears of pleasure streamed down her face, made him make his moments rapid.

"Just like that sunshine... Scream my name." He pressed his lips against hers, greedily swallowing the moans she let out.

Burying his head in her neck, he felt his lower abdomen tighten, the need to release becoming urgent with every stroke.

"Oh go, sunshine you feel sooo good." He moaned.

His moans are now my favourite sounds... I could hear them all day. Leah thought.

"Come with me Ethan. Come with me." She said as they interlinked their fingers, holding each other's hands.

And he did. His strokes became sloppy and slower as he dumped his load into the condom he had slipped on. Leah felt his dick jerk in her and it triggered her release as well.

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

Both of them were falling together, holding on to each other as they rode the waves of euphoria, rushing through their veins. It was one of the best feelings they had experienced. All the pinning and sadness was all gone. There was only joy and the feeling of contentment in their hearts.

After their rapid heartbeats had calmed down, Ethan pulled out and got up from the bed, and stretched. Seeing the muscles of his back and abs stretch, Leah gave out a rumble of approval.

Ethan gave her a small smile and started heading towards the door but Leah caught his wrist. "Outside bad. Bed good." She said, her brain still a mess from the mind blowing orgasms.

Ethan bent down and kissed her forehead. "Sunshine, I'm just going to get some food and run a bubble bath."

"Okay."

After a couple of minutes of rummaging through cabinets, Ethan came and lifted Leah in his strong arms. Leah was smiling so much that her cheekbones hurt. She hasn't smiled like this in such a long time.

He put her down on the bathroom floor and Leah grabbed a stool where they could keep their drinks and the lasagna that he had heated.

Ethan first sunk in the hot water, the water reaching till his chest. Leah sat across him, sighing when the hot water soothed her sore muscles.

"Ethan...you are a goddamn blessing." She sighed as she picked up the plate with her food.

"I should be saying that. You changed my life."

They sat comfortably in the large bathtub, occasionally joking and eating the cheesy goodness. Leah inhaled her food, realizing just how hungry she was.

After they finished eating, Leah closed her eyes and sighed. Ethan was massaging her feet and she made it a personal mission to make him her masseur.

"Ethan?"

"Yes sunshine?"

"You won't run away from me, right?"

"No sunshine. I'm here to stay. In fact, tomorrow we both are going to go and talk to HR. Enough with the pining and the jealousy. I just want to make you mine, baby."

"Really?" Leah asked, with happiness gleaming in her chocolate brown eyes.

"Yes sunshine. I guess you are stuck with me."

Leah surged forward, water sloshing over the bathtub. She pressed her lips against Ethan's. He chuckled and kissed her back chastely and tenderly, pouring all his affections for the beautiful and intelligent woman before him.

Leah. His girlfriend. His sunshine.

And it's going to be together like that, forever and always.

aaahhhhh if only Ethan could just give in... but for now we will comfort ourselves with fan-fiction 😉

also, i want to sort out my tag list... so if you guys could dm me with which fics you want to tagged to, i would appreciate it 💗

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[rachelthompsonauthor]

Hi, everyone! It’s time to venture back out into the world which is a little scary, right? That’s where we are in Northern California – like turtles starting to stick our heads out just a little bit. We’re starting to visit family, actually going to the grocery store, and getting haircuts for everyone – a good thing since we’re all looking a bit like muppets.

Though with the latest numbers in California, who knows where we’re headed. It’s terrifying. Masks, masks, masks, wash, wash, wash.

In case you missed the last two installments of my blog posts, you can catch up by clicking here for week one and here for week two.

This week I’m thrilled to share an insider look into the mind of author Barbara Delinsky, who just dropped her latest hot read, A Week At The Shore, which immediately hit the New York Times bestseller list – her twenty-third novel to do so.

Both Pip and I enjoyed A Week At The Shore immensely.

Full disclosure: Barbara is one of my BadRedhead Media clients (and I’m supremely grateful for that!). I handle her social media, street team, blog and book review optimization, and a good deal of her book promotion.

After finishing the book (which I loved), I had a few questions for Barbara about her writing style, so I emailed them to her and she was kind enough to respond.

A Week At The Shore by Barbara Delinsky Interview

Q: I notice you don’t only use ‘she said’ for dialogue, which I personally love, though as I’m sure you know well, it’s a DEBATE.

A: I’ve actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. I don’t use half as many other words (“she exclaimed,” “she intoned,” or “she declared”) as much as I used to. Yes, there’s something to be said for simple and real. That said, the constant monotony of “she said” gets boring, so I try to find a comfortable balance. This actually ties in with your next question.

Sometimes, the sub for “she said” can express emotion, as in “she cried,” or “she dare say,” or “she whispered.” So it does add something. Still, though, not quite the “show, not tell” rule (see more on that below).  

Q: Also, the ‘show, not tell’ rule regarding feelings. You sometimes say what emotions Mallory {Ed. the main character} feels (at times). If I wrote that in my creative writing classes, my teacher would’ve jumped out a window, yet it works. Again, love. All this ‘do this, not that’ advice can be confusing for writers, regardless of genre, myself included.

A: Yes, it does work at times, at least, for me. But then, I never took a creative writing class, so maybe I just don’t know how to show rather than tell. Here, too, I think you have to be guided by common sense. If by “show,” you mean having a character “start to huff and puff,” to show upset, rather than simply to “cry in alarm,” I’d opt for the simpler.  

The image of huffing and puffing will distract the reader from what you’re saying. IMHO, the “show, not tell” rule applies to larger things, like rather than saying “her husband could be nasty,” saying something like, “her husband could see her scrubbing the dinner dishes and tell her she was made for this.” So, it’s really giving an example of what you’re saying in summary. Does that make sense?

Q: Yes, absolutely. Also, you write about the past in the present tense – I do this with memoir and blog posts, and prefer to read books or even blog posts/articles written this way. It’s more immediate. When I work with writers in my workshops, they tend to write in the past tense. I haven’t read all of your other books, so I wonder if you do this with all your books?

A: I’m actually not even aware of writing about the past in the present tense, unless it’s a bonafide flashback, in which case it would be in the present. I’ve been experimenting with different tenses book to book. My last book, BEFORE AND AGAIN, was in the first-person past tense, A WEEK AT THE SHORE is in first person present tense.  

The latter took some getting used to. And it’s possible that I botched the flashback tenses simply because I’m not ultra-experienced with first-person present. My editor didn’t catch or change anything, though. I agree with you. There is an immediacy to first-person present tense that is nice. That said, the new book I’ve started is in first-person past tense.

Q: Basic skills – I get it. This is how new writers learn. You aren’t new (after writing hundreds of books and stories), so you break rules – is that it?

A: I’m not “schooled” in writing, so I don’t know I’m breaking the rules!!

Q: You’re so skilled, Barbara. Your characters are intricate and layered. This book is a CLASS in writing. Do you ever think about young writers reading your work and learning from you?

A: You are too kind, Rachel. Seriously. I’m just muddling along, basically doing what works for me as a reader, since I have no formal training. Truly. Now I’m just enjoying it.

Barbara has written a few articles for me on my biz site about breaking the writing rules, which I hope you’ll read. She’s a true writer’s writer. I hope you’ll read her books and articles. She’s also an avid reader herself and does weekly book reviews on her blog.

What I’m Reading Now

I’m now reading the third book in the Discovery of Witches series, The Book of Life, and it’s fabulous, just like the others in this series. I’m not going to spoil it for you if you haven’t read these. Harkness is a wonderful writer, and she weaves history, passionate love, and the supernatural together in a way that carries you into other worlds. Even though it’s vampires, witches, and demons, it’s not glowy, corny vampires and evil witches on broomsticks. Harkness’ stories are wholly imaginative.

When I found out Sundance made the first book into a series, I paid for the app ($5.99/month – totally worth it) and watched the entire series in one day. SO GREAT. Perfectly cast, well-acted, leaving me yearning for more. I’m now re-watching it.

What Else I’m Watching

I never did see Being John Malkovich so I watched it with my daughter. Weird flick. Good, but super weird. Definitely takes the, ’15 minutes of fame,’ motto and turns it on its head. Speaking of heads, I’ve never seen such horrible hair in any movie.

Have you seen it? What are your thoughts?

Space Force just came out on Netflix and it’s hilarious. If you’re super conservative, you may not like it, so beware (though they poke fun at both parties). If you can laugh at the ridiculousness of government, please watch. Carrell is great, as usual, and the relationship dynamics are brilliant (and there’s John Malkovich again – great, as usual).

Vanderpump Rules I mentioned previously that this is the one reality show I watch with my 20-year-old daughter, Anya, and we watched the reunion shows – all three of them. I know, ridiculous. Jax is such a joke (his blatant homophobia disgusts me, though he says he supports gays – what?), Jax and Brittany together are just ugh, and Max makes me want to vomit (breaking news – he just got fired – ha!).

And honestly, could Vanderpump be any more white? We’ve been saying this for years.

SO much has happened since last week – wowzers. They’ve fired four people as of this writing for making racist remarks. Either the show will be retooled or canceled. I’m sad to see the epitome of white-girl whiteness Stassi gone – she was at least honest about her privilege. What do you think?

I’d be pretty much done with this show if it wasn’t for my daughter begging me to watch with her (we do watch movies and other shows as well). I’m glad Pumpy fired their asses, otherwise, I’d be done DONE.

Compassion

What’s missing from most reality shows is compassion, which is why I don’t enjoy watching them. We see (and hear, loudly and repeatedly) the negativity, toxicity, and the worst in people because that’s what the editors and producers know will keep viewers coming back – drama.

There are flashes of compassion, e.g., when dealing with the death of a loved one, coming out, infidelity, or mental health issues. I appreciate when Bravo, for example, handles these issues well. I don’t appreciate it when they have not – and they have not in many cases. An overall lack of compassion appears to be missing from many of these people’s lives; however, using The Four Agreements, that’s an assumption on my part; we don’t see behind the scenes or when the cameras are off.

I do have compassion for the casts of these shows who have decided money is worth more than their privacy. They are adults making decisions about their lives, and all that comes with it, as any celebrity does. Now, they’re dealing with the fallout.

“Make good choices!” as Jamie Lee Curtis’s mom in Freaky Friday admonishes a young Lindsay Lohan’s Anna (and we all know how that turned out). Oh, Lindsay. Honestly, she’s such a product of dysfunction, it’s truly sad, but that’s a whole other post.

If only people would listen to their Hollywood movie mothers…

Products Supporting Black Lives Matter

In no particular order, here’s what I’ve bought and am loving:

YUBI: The original fingertip makeup brush is amazing. Worth every penny. How did I not know about this?

Pat McGrath Real Makeup: I’m a sucker for a great eye shadow palette. McGrath’s are pricey but fab-u-lous. Why so spendy? All her products are highly-pigmented so you don’t need much; they’ll last a good long time. Here’s the one I purchased on Amazon. For when, ya know, I actually have somewhere to venture out to.

Body Butter Lady: Lip stuff and of course, body butter. Affordable, smells amazing, and will last a good, long, time.

LipBar: Lips for days, tons of colors and textures to suit anyone.

LipSlut: Awesome colors, and 50% of all proceeds go to support women and children’s charities all the time. Right now, they’re supporting Black Lives Matters. 50% towards charity, 100% against tyranny. Cruelty-free, Vegan.

Their newest shade, F*ck Trump on pre-order, will support civil rights organizations specifically targeted by the Trump organization – I mean, administration. Oopsies.

Here is my current personal selection (F*ck Kavanaugh is a favorite – a pretty brownish-red that wears well):

  ***

So that’s it for this week. Would love your feedback on COVID-19, books, movies, shows, makeup, racism, or whatever you want to discuss. Thanks for stopping by!

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

        The post Venture Out Of Quarantine With Me appeared first on Rachel Thompson.

via Rachel Thompson

[mutually-screaming]

for death and he

Fandom: Homestuck

AU: Godstuck, but with more cults

Chapter(s): 1/??

Ship/Pairing: Dirk/Lil Hal

Summary: Hal needs to feed to survive at this point in his everlasting life. Being a god isn’t easy, especially not when you have virtually no followers. But he’s not god now. He’s a leech. And he needs Dirk to be his host if he wants to survive any longer as a god.

Author Note: Chapter one! I hope you all enjoy! I will be posting this on Archive of Our Own as well, and links will be provided once I do so! I hope you enjoy!

This party sucked.

It wasn't the fact that the party itself was bad, but the suckyness of the party predominately came from Dirk himself. Things that he used to enjoy, like this shitty party, felt like they were slowly getting crappier and crappier over time. Whether it was boredom or how they always seemed to go the same, he couldn't quite tell. But it sucked to Dirk. Everyone else was having a good time, and part of him was jealous of them for that, but he felt like it sucked.

But of course it sucked for Dirk. Dirk Strider, forever sitting on the couch, making boring idle conversation, waiting to get himself drunk. Dirk Strider, always embarrassing himself when he gets drunk. Dirk Strider, waking up in the morning with a shitty hangover and a will in his mind that he was never drinking again. Parties weren't awful, but he just couldn't get why he wasn't enjoying them anymore.

Maybe because of the monotony of his actions at these parties, or maybe he was becoming more of a homebody. The latter option made the most sense to him right off the bat. He was spending more time at home, but he blamed that mostly on school and how it was so vigorously kicking his ass at the moment.

The blonde took a sip of probably one of the grossest IPA's he's ever drank before setting the bottle down and deciding he was done with it. It was almost full.

Music played, people were dancing, the air was hot and humid with their sweat. It was kinda gross. Deciding he needed a break, he shoved his way out of the living room and into the back yard, greeted by a cold yet refreshing gust of night air as he stumbled upon what seemed to be a beer pong tournament? Except all frat-dudes involved seemed way too fucked up. Amber eyes scoped the scene before settling upon three mostly empty tequila bottles on the floor. Ah. Tequila pong.

Considering the last time he decided to play the one way alcohol poisoning game of Tequila pong, he decided against it. Nope. Never again.

Reasoning being, nobody wanted to watch him try to jump from the roof and into the neighbor's pool and fail again. That entire incident ended with a broken wrist and a written apology.

But see? He used to think this was fun. Now he was bored, tired, and couldn't wait to put on his pajamas and fuzzy socks when he got home.

He needed to find Roxy.

Turning around to head back inside, he struggled through the living room and made his way towards the kitchen, only to run into a very frazzled looking Jane dealing with a very stoned freshman he didn't recognize.

"Hey, where's Roxy?" Dirk asked, grabbing some paper towels and handing them to Jane as she tried desperately to clean up a green mess that the freshman seemed to have spilled. The freshman seemed cool with it. Hell, Dirk wasn't even sure if the freshman noticed that he had spilled half of whatever the fuck that green stuff was all over the front of him. He was blazed as fuck.

"Last place I saw her was in the garage getting more drinks, but that couldn't have been more than twenty minutes ago," Jane replied, gratefully taking the paper towels and using them to sop up the green mess. "By the way," the brunette huffed, straightening up and dumping the dirty trash into the bin, "This is Gamzee, he's the foreign exchange student I've been mentoring."

"How's it been, brother? Long time no see," Gamzee grins, his voice deep and laced with an accent he didn't recognize. The stoner reached over and clapped a large hand on Dirk's back, possibly getting some of that goop on his shirt.

Dirk has never met this kid in his life.

"Uh...it's been good," Dirk says slowly, taking a step away from Gamzee as he turned back to Jane, "Look, if you get the chance to talk to Roxy, let her know I'm headed home. Glad for the invite though, that was cool of her. Don't think this kind of stuff is my thing anymore though." Hm. Maybe a little too much information for now. He didn't want to offend Roxy for inviting him to these, he knew she genuinely enjoyed them and that he used to too. But might as well be honest, right?

"Oh, uhm, alright," Jane replied, seeming a little taken aback by Dirk's bluntness. "I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Dirk nodded, briefly eyeing Gamzee warily before making his way out of the party. Part of him kinda felt bad for the guy. He seemed stoned out of his mind. But hey, at least even he was having a good time.

The party had been hosted at a nearby fraternity house that was only about three blocks from the school, making it only about a twenty-ish minute walk back to his dorms, which wasn't too bad. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he quickly sent a text to Roxy, just in case Jane didn't get the chance to relay the message.

headed home. thanks for the invite.

Dirk knew Roxy worried about him sometimes. Especially these past few months since his particularly messy breakup with his ex. But that was a story for another day.

It didn't take long for him to reach his dorm, quickly changing out of his plain jeans and t-shirt and into his beloved fuzzy socks, sweatpants and hoodie. It was a cold night and he might as well get comfortable for the night.

Flopping onto the bed, he couldn't help but lie there for a second. The room was completely quiet, other than the gentle hum of the heater running and the soft thump of his heart beating. Glancing at his clock on his desk, it was only ten forty-five. It wasn't even that late. But why did he feel so fucking tired? He lied still on his bed for as long as he could manage, legs dangling over the side as he shifted and shoved his face into his pillow, only to immediately sit up in distaste as a red line formed across his face from his shades.

Right. He was wearing those.

Dirk took them off and set them on his desk next to his bed before getting settled in. Snuggled in a thick duvet, laptop in his lap, he grabbed his glasses off of his desk. Trading comfort over style, he guessed. It was a miracle he could get those wack-ass shades as prescription, but he was from Hollywood and wasn't about to read too deep into this and you shouldn't either.

Was he tired? Yes. But it was more like the slightly sleepy that led into boredom that led into him browsing the internet for a couple of hours.

An hour and a half later, Dirk found himself falling down the rabbit hole of food network youtube videos on how to make gourmet gushers when an unfamiliar notification popped up. It was from Pesterchum, what was essentially a remake of the now outdated Skype, but he didn't recognize the message that appeared.

autoResponder [AR] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

AR: Hey. Ever wondered what ascension is like?

The name autoResponder immediately made Dirk think this was a bot messaging him. But that didn't make sense. The only way someone could message him would be if he gave them his username himself, but he couldn't remember giving anyone his username recently. He honestly didn't even use Pesterchum that much lately anyways because of how busy he's been with school. This totally had to be a bot. But it hadn't sent him any weird links yet or offered to show him boobs. Or maybe it was a hacker trying to give his laptop a virus. But he could handle that. Maybe it would be fun to fuck with this guy. If he was going to try to send him a virus he would well deserve it.

Just as he started to type a response back, he got another message.

AR: Ever wondered what happens after death?

Dirk's fingers hesitated. Now this was starting to sound a little more religious-y. But it gave more of the vibe of those signs you drive by on road trips. The ones paid for by Biblethumpers who had nothing better to do but shove god in every aspect of life, including road trips apparently.

Another message.

AR: Ever wondered what happens when everything becomes void, Dirk?

Dirk closed his laptop.

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

                             Sun Wukong, the God of Mayhem and Mischief,                                           whose origins stem from Ancient China.                                               He is now a martial arts instructor.

FC NAME/GROUP: jackson wang ( wang kayee ) or got7 GOD NAME: sun wukong PANTHEON: chinese OCCUPATION: martial arts instructor HEIGHT: 174 cm ( 5'9" ) WEIGHT: 63 kg ( 140 lbs ) DEFINING FEATURES:

HAIR: black (it was gold before but he made it black to match his daughter’s) EYES: a bright golden. it was originally brown until he got stuck in a cauldron for 49 days. is also sensitive to smoke. NOTABLE FEATURES: a monkey tail always was present and ready to act as a third hand. very useful. STYLE: anything and everything fancy and trendy. liked to look rich and luxurious. however in home he’s so casual with boxer shorts and baggy shirts.

PERSONALITY:

MBTI: ENTP- A extroverted: 92% intuitive: 60% thinking: 54% prospecting: 56% assertive: 78% HOGWART’S HOUSE: slytherin POSITIVE: adaptable; charismatic; social; daring NEUTRAL: cunning; proud; genuine NEGATIVE: mischievous; stubborn; childish; erratic the monkey king was a proud one, a child at heart. despite his improvement of the years, at the core he was a troublemaker who wanted to be under the spotlight. however he was charming and bright, always willing to talk with others and connecting with them. an adventurer much too sly and playful, but an ally worthy to have. although unpredictable and stubborn at times, he did try his best and put his all no matter what ( even if it’ll lead him to crash and burn ).

HISTORY:

act i.

he was not normal, not even with his birth. born from a magic stone, an egg that took form of the species around him, the thing known as monkeys. in this mountain where he had no family, nothing to turn back to, the stone monkey attempted to fit in with everyone else. eating, breathing, living like everyone else. he was not like everyone else that had to take time to grow, instead matching to the adults as soon as he was born. what a strange one, ran through the other animals’ minds. but they took in the odd monkey and he in turn tried to learn from them all. to be like the others, to live, to do something. for this creature merely wanted to live, wished to find purpose, find a reason for why he existed. that’s why, when the chance came, the stone monkey dared to be more. went through the waterfall to be known as the monkey king, became a leader to the other monkeys, stole a treasure from the dragon king to make himself stronger, defeat the four dragons anyway, became a powerful and well known demon king that was praised and had followers in awe of his prowess. he never felt more alive than in that moment, loved and a subject of awe among his peers. the stone monkey was no more, and he now tried to be the amazing and loved king, the one in the spotlight. and when death came knocking at his doorstep, he defied it with all his might. erased his name from the book of life and death to achieve immortality, and when he thought of his people, those that will one day disappear and he’d lose all that he loved about his position—the monkey took all of heir names out of it too. for this being was not like others, he had no purpose. that’s why he turned to others, that’s why he strove to be more, to reach the top. for then there, everyone would seek for him. and he’d finally be doing something right, instead of nothing at all and meandering about like a lost wanderer. he wasn’t going to be a waste in this vast world, he was going to be so much more.

act ii.

the thing about being more was that it came with defying the laws put down upon lesser beings such as he. and as such, he was reported to the jade emperor by those he slighted. let it be known that he was more easily fooled at this time, and one much more optimistic. he only thought of this as an opportunity to be better. a mere child in mind thinking he was going to be gifted to be better because he did a job well done didn’t he? and truly, despite all his deeds, this monkey was but a child. one who was never taught properly of how the world worked, of how people acted, how his actions may be perceived. he was just trying to find his worth, in this world too big for his small body. that’s why, when he was put down as a mere lookout for the stables and to take care of the horses—he was hurt. he was a hurt little one, and he wondered what he did wrong. but then he started to think, did he mean nothing to them? there’s a fear gripping at his heart, and he hated how he felt like he just lost his worth to these new people he did not know, and before he knew it, he was seeking for attention. he lets loose all the horses and so began the start of the havoc in heaven. he didn’t want to be nothing. “i’m the great sage, heaven’s equal and you better treat me as such!” a childish declaration, but one which had to work out well enough for heaven to recognize his title. and he thought, yeah, this was it. he was going to be well loved, and he was going to be under the spotlight again! he was going to be someone of worth! then he found out, that wasn’t the case. not really. another lie, another fake to make him seem great but realizing that no, that’s not really the case. because there was a great banquet for the great figures in heaven and he wasn’t invited at all. sad little monkey, within the peach garden that he thought was a grand area to give to him, but it wasn’t. no, instead, he stood alone and felt like he was just thrown away. why? i didn’t do anything wrong. i just wanted—, such thoughts ran rampant in his mind. but no one was there to listen. and once more, the spiral down to negativity pushed the monkey again. and this time, against these deities and beings, he took all he could to give him immortality ( because he’s just one monkey, one against all these mean, mean people ). then he began his rebellion. heaven needed a wake up call. they need to realize that he’s more than what they thought he was. they should know his worth! and that was all that fueled this monkey king to fight. army of heaven’s 100,000 celestial warriors, 28 constellations, four heavenly kings, and even nezha—it did not matter. in that moment, he surpassed them all, for even if he was a child, combat seemed to be such a naturally in born talent of his. tricking them all, defeating them, proving his worth. but even so, he was one mere being. powerful, but alone. and he loathed how in the end he didn’t come out at top. instead, he was captured. in the end, he failed. and he screamed out at them all, cursing them and hateful. and he was terrified, because oh, he was so small against the swarm and he just wanted approval. he just wanted to be loved. am i truly worth nothing? he’s thrown into laozi’s eight-way trigram crucible, and in that moment he wondered what fool called heaven a holy place.

act iii.

49 days, that’s the record he bore for being stuck in the forsaken place. curled up in the corner, he transformed out of his monkey form to something much smaller in fear. flinching away from the flames, eyes burning from the smoke. immortality was what kept him alive, and he wondered why he was so horribly tortured. no one heard his cries to the raging fires and ceramic walls, and after a few days he had nothing left to sob out. when the cauldron finally opened, he jumped out. he jumped and ran away. he continued to hate them, and yet deep down he sought for their approval ( because how else was he to find his worth? ). which led to the next event. meeting buddha, bigger and stronger than him, he didn’t want to seem meek and weak next to the other. bringing out the mask of bravado, he accepted the bet made by buddha and attempted to win the game. he was going to reach heaven and not be caught by the higher being, he was going to prove himself! for if he won this, would he not be finally put at the top? however, it seemed that nothing ever went his way. for as he thought he succeeded in defeating the buddha, showing off loudly of his great victory, it turned out he had been already trapped. the palm of buddha turning into a mountain and locking him inside. again, he was put into isolation. this time, the space was bigger and at least there was no fire, but god was he alone. there were only plantations and insects, these were all he could see. the monkey was put all alone and he tried to count how many days it has been. with each day, he found himself fearing how the world would be when he returned. would anyone remember him? would people care? would his people even care? in this time of isolation, the monkey tried to make life exciting to ignore such worries. building his own luxurious tree house, making all sorts of traps for fun, playgrounds that he could enjoy in. he loved the flowers and fruits especially, colorful things to break the monotony of earthly colors. and sometimes, for a moment, things were fun. until he turned around, cheer on his face to call out for a friend to try things out with him. but then he remembered, he had nobody. was this his fate? he sometimes wondered. was he really meant to not have a purpose? he loathed to think. was he never meant to be loved? the worst of it all entered his mind. and he curled up in the center, digging his finger down on the ground to carve the symbol of another day. and maybe if he ducked hi head and let it stay above his knees, no one would see or feel the tears dropping from his eyes.

act iv.

500 years, 182500 days, and too many hours to count later—he was given freedom. Well, not really freedom. he was allowed to roam on earth after he successfully escorted some monk on his pilgrimage. protect monk and keep him safe, and then he’s out scott-free. sure, he also had a dumb headband on him to give him headache for days, but at least he had three chances to defy it. that was the basic idea really. and before he knew it, he got lumped in with a monk that got a stick up his ass, a womanizing and gluttonous pig, a boring ogre, and then later on in life some quiet ass horse. it was a very strange combination indeed, one that the king thinks could easily fail anytime soon—but he was stubborn and when he put his mind to it, he always aimed for the best results. he hated the monk when he used the stupid mantra to mess with his head, hated the pig for his stupidity and foolish actions, hated the ogre for being so serious, hated how the horse refused to return to normal and remained silent. yet at the same time, xuanzang became the one person he learned to respect and love dearly, bajie became the fun friend he loved to mess with, wujing was always someone he could rely on, and yulong was the trusty and silent stead. from a ragtag group butting heads, to brothers that he could trust. xuanzang in particular, despite their stark differences, was someone he came to care for beyond than anyone in the world. even with all the troubles and how xuanzang always seemed to be taken away, he and the others always brought him back in the end. and even if there were arguments, many nearly breaking them up, they bounced back and together continued their adventure. the journey to the west was one of adventures beyond the norm, but he thought that this was truly a tale to tell the world when it was all over. sometimes he fancied them becoming a popular tale in the future, joked about it really. xuanzang told him that such a tale was not really necessary, bajie was all in for it at the prospect of fame and the girls and money he could obtain from it, wujing didn’t really seek for such fame but it was an interesting topic nonetheless. the primate already knew he was going to definitely publish it in the future. this was his lifestyle for fourteen years, and even if it’s such a small number of years too his actual age—it had been one of the greatest there was. and through it, he found out more about him, people, and individuals. he understood then, of heaven’s punishment on him. he understood why the world once labeled him a pest. he understood it all thanks to these people and his adventures. xuanzang especially broke through all the farce he put up, came to understand him beyond anyone else, and in turn the troublemaker was the same with the monk. he thought that, strangely enough, after so much suffering this was where he truly belonged. however, as stated before, this journey lasted fourteen years. in the end, the pilgrimage was successful. bajie was gifted, wujing became an arhat, and surprisingly he was granted buddhahood alongside xuanzang. but xuanzang requested to stay as human for as long as his mortal life could offer, whilst he took it without problem ( because at the core of it all, he still wanted to be something and took every opportunity to be as such ).   and just like that, the group disbanded. misfits and a religious one all going on their own ways. surprisingly, he found himself suggesting a yearly meet up of sort to catch up on each other too. none of them minded this, and he thought he caught xuanzang having a proud smile. in the end, despite reaching buddhahood, he tried to check on the monkeys he left and how their lives have been. when he returned back to open arms and them crying out of relief and joy seeing him fine and well, worries of the past washed away. a weight lifted off of his shoulders, and he thought perhaps this was all he needed.

act v.

the world became duller without the others with him and facing constant adventures. perhaps that’s why he’d frequently go around causing bits of mischief here and there to amuse himself. the monkeys were a nice pack to return to as well, but he found himself without much to do. what was he if not playing the rebellious troublemaker? what was he, if not playing the protector of the monk? what was he in the end? even after reaching buddhahood, he questioned himself. he flaunted the title around, but somewhere in him he wondered why he even received it. sometimes he wanted to talk about it to xuanzang, but he hated to be anything but the facade he showed. because that vision was cooler, much more than this wanderer still lost within himself. speaking of xuanzang, today he’s meeting up with the guy. he knew wujing and bajie met the monk earlier on, but it seemed they were making sure he and xuanzang have one last fina talk. if he heard bajie talk about a secret forbidden love between them, he thought of transforming himself to a beautiful woman to embarrass the pig. still, it was definitely better for them to be alone for this last talk. it’s been years of course, and whilst the disciples have a limitless life ( with only him assured to just never die ), xuanzang did request to keep his mortality for the time being. and once the monk truly became a buddha, they really had no doubts that even their yearly meet ups wouldn’t be complete. the former demon should be as busy, but he never really followed the normal rules. that’s why unlike most others, he wandered and he did whatever. after all, he’s not like the standard deity. not based off of a concept needed by people or praised by them, or of the life cycle such as death. no, he was of mischief and trickery, a combatant to boot. but xuanzang would be more, that was the unanimous thought they had. that’s why, calmly so, he’d meet up xuanzang one last time as what he originally was. a mortal man, much more benevolent than any holy being he knew ( the one who understood him, the one who forgave him, the one who helped the lost child that no one ever did ). sitting by the old man, now wrinkly but bald as ever, he couldn’t help but find it peaceful. the leaves and grass sway lightly against the wind, cups of tea being nursed in their hands. the primate sat silently for once, basking in the tranquility of their current setting. then, for once, xuanzang was the one who opened his mouth first. “i’m glad we met. i think that’s one of the best things to happen to me.” he froze, eyes flickering to the aged monk. “even if you were someone i disagreed with in many ways, even when we were so different, you were the one i learned most from. you were the one that made me realize the many things that made a person them.” a pause, a shared look, and a pleasant smile on the elderly man. here’s a pang on his heart, and a realization that he’ll not see it in a long time. finally, the monk continued and the troublemaker continued to silently listen for once. “you were also my protector, and there were many things we did not see eye-to-eye but i grew to understand your views as you did with mine. and as time passed, we just knew how to go about things. and…” a softened gaze, weak and old hand raising up to his shoulder, then firmly “you never had to be anything but yourself, that was enough. you were enough, and you never needed to try so hard to be someone or something else. and you are truly amazing as you are. even when it was rough, and i know you’ve hurt so much, you tried your best. i know i will be off soon, but i have no doubts that you would leave a mark on this world. and that you will be loved and cared for. more importantly, there is no one you have to prove, because i can tell you that you’ve always been an individual with a great heart.” the monkey king was speechless, wide eyed at the monk’s words. he also hated how he felt choked up, how the urge to cry was present ( and how he hated to cry in front of others ), how xuanzang just always knew what to say. and moreover, it seemed that he always knew what the primate would say if he had found his voice. for the monk lets go, calmly shut his eyes as he faced front and still held onto his cup of tea. even without the heightened sense of hearing, he could tell that xuanzang had passed. peaceful as ever, and satisfied to have said all he wanted to say. looking down at the cup of tea, though, he could not say everything he wanted to say. instead, noting how the beverage of the other was unfinished, he choked out “idiot, you always nagged at me when i didn’t finish my stuff. you should have finished your’s.” i wished you could have stayed longer.

act vi.

the world moves on, and so did he. he lived on with his immortal life, admiring the world as it changed beyond his comprehension. humans were odd things, and through them he liked to find more about the world. that’s how his life became one full of activities. meeting up with his fellow immortal monkeys, meeting up with the journey to the west gang, meeting with the other deities once in a blue moon whenever it was important to even drag him into it, pranking some poor souls, and sometimes playing a normal human to closely watch the world. although being human was a task since he always had to hide away his dastardly tail, he did manage to get some magical items and the sort to cover the tail if he needed to do so. and plus, he thought that he made a mighty fine looking one. meeting people, getting to know them, sometimes helping around, it was a wonderful time. it was always funny to make enemies, then see them in the underworld and loudly announce all their horrible deeds even if the god knew it all already. still, the priceless looks were always worth it. and if he liked someone enough, he could put his two cents in about them. he liked to play different roles, mostly anything exciting. whatever that seemed fun at the moment. a pirate, a warrior, a shaman, whatever really. when more roles came to exist, he tried them out with great gusto. never stagnant, always trying out new things as long as it caught his interest. that was the life he lived. he would meet people, become friends, family, enemies, and more. a social soul, one that loved to shine among them all. the world spun and spun, never stopping and always warping. in turn, he got to take another step and learn to adapt. always flowing along, for what else was there really to do? he got no proper domain to look over, and he thought that this really was a life more suitable for him. he thought he may be a celebrity one too many times, but he couldn’t help it. in the end, he was someone who strove to be  a star. a being under the spotlight. for perhaps, that was all the motivation he needed for himself, the purpose he sought for. one which he’s more than happy to comply.

act vii.

the cycle repeated, and finally he met her. it’s not that he didn’t get into flings or dates and all, he’s done it several times. but in that time, his role was a circus performer, a stuntman wowing people. although, before he was a short-lived actor that was a scene-stealer on a tv show prior to that as well ( and he rather liked the face he donned, which was why kept it instead of throwing away the identity like usual ). but during a time where in he was in china and taking a break, he went to florist’s shop to look around. for even at that point in his life, the flowers were still one of his most favorite things in the world. there, he met the florist. a plain woman she was, one to be easily overlooked. in fact, the reason he stayed longer was because she noticed him as the actor she had admired. then they talked about flowers and things just sort of clicked. falling together so perfectly like puzzle pieces meant to form together a beautiful image. then he started to come over more and more. even when he was busy, he got her number just so he could video call her whenever. he got to know her more, and found out about her family. in all honesty, her sister was a lot more beautiful than her, but he didn’t even bat an eye at the woman. instead, he’s always been more charmed by the florist with as much love for flowers as he did. he realized that the florist girl was the odd one out in her family, not as famous or gorgeous. but he didn’t really care, instead showering her in praises and love. always sweet and kind, always trying his best. for she made him feel grounded, normal, and despite all that he preached about being a star—he wanted to be someone that was approved. and the little florist gave him that love and acceptance. her family was kind, and his special vision didn’t see them as bad. and he thought, that perhaps he finally found someone he was meant to be with. then one night led to another, he became a father, and now he’s ready to propose to the woman he loved. it all seemed perfect, until she requested to hold off the proposal. shaky eyes and a tired smile. he didn’t like the sight, and there’s a sinking feeling but—he smiled and let her have it. nine months, the sinking feeling never fade. instead wariness grew, and in turn he tried harder. he wanted to make her happy, didn’t mind it when she got emotional and cried for him to go away. it’s only then that he realized, perhaps, somewhere along this beautiful romance story he had been blinded. when the child was born, when the infant cried, he found himself knowing that he’d love the baby to the very end. yet, as he looked up to the mother’s eyes, somehow he knew this was a symbol of the end. when his lover was allowed to leave, and they could finally talk it out in the confines of his home she finally blurted it all out. she apologized for being cruel, for being weak, but this was a life she could not have. young girl that had been oppressed, one that was always talked down by others outside family. the plain girl that was fated to a plain life. and then he came to her life and everything seemed so wonderful but— the people, they still talk. still said things behind their backs, such venomous words only raising in volume when he wasn’t physically around. and the feeling he was hiding something, something so important but never telling her anything ( his divinity, the deity he actually was, how he was not even a mere man ). the mistrust that builds, the negative monsters forming in her mind, and finally… “i’m sorry. i really can’t do this anymore. i think you deserve better than me. including her. because for having such thoughts i…i really don’t deserve any of this.” perhaps this florist girl he loved really didn’t. after all, if such a mindset was enough for her to give it all up…the disguised man could only accept it ( because even then, he was a man in love who could not say no to her ). taking the child, his only request was that they named her together. “meihua.” they agreed, the beautiful flower that deserved the world. it made him wonder if he had left any other children behind without really realizing it. wondered if their mothers felt as empty as he was watching the woman’s back as she left. maybe he could make it right for them when he meets them once more but for now… looking at the little girl in his arms, he could only smile kindly. for now, he’ll at least make things right for what was left of the love story that ended tragically. as he looked out of the window, he realized it was raining. was xuanzang crying for him? he couldn’t help but wonder. but it’s okay, he’s not alone at least. he now had a family of his own blood to take care of for once. and he’s going to help her down the right path.

act viii.

he had been in mount phoenix at times. may it be pranking some others or to just chill out. its been a really long time since he returned there, though—about fifty years or so. but with so many ways people could be a danger to his precious child, he found himself trying to bring her to a safe haven she’d fit in more. that’s how the deity that’s also known as the victorious fighting buddha found himself becoming a ( struggling ) single father. one who thanked for the creation of internet as he could easily search all that he needed to know to take care of the baby and her following years. fatherhood was an exhausting experience, but he couldn’t say he regretted doing such a thing. not when it assured the best conditions for his daughter. he also had given up on his circus profession by the drop of the hat as soon as he knew he couldn’t really move about so freely. not if he was going to stay in mount phoenix until who knew how long. instead, the god opted to open up a whole dojo to teach anyone willing to learn the martial arts. he’s been here for five years, and now he’s trying to learn how to deal with his baby going to school. moreover, he wondered how many boys he had to fight because he swore if anyone tried to mess with her he was going to give them the pranking of a lifetime ( and if their bones get broken….well, that was a nice bonus ).

POWERS:

PRIMATE PHYSIOLOGY was his original form really, a monkey who’s got enhanced condition and very useful feet and tail. his tail still popped out even in human form and he’d use it a lot because it was useful. most noteworthy was his speed and strength, though ( travelling 21,675 km in one somersault and carrying around a staff weighing 7960 kg with ease ).

SUPERNATURAL COMBAT was one of the things he was well known for. defeating most of heaven’s forces, several other enemies, and more—his combat surpassed many levels and he loved to flaunt it.

IMMORTALITY definitely common in deities but this god just won't die. decapitation, rip his heart out, and you can name it all but he survived from it all. perhaps making himself immortal five times over was overkill but at least he obtained the role of useful meat shield.

72 EARTHLY TRANSFORMATION or shapeshifting, but generally he could shapeshift perfectly to anything under the 72 earthly transformations ( mostly other living beings ). however, anything outside of it would always have his tail pop out.

CLONING by plucking out a strand of his hair, he could clone himself. he could also shapeshift those clones into anything he wanted in the process.

CLOUD FLIGHT simply as it said on the tin, he could use clouds as a mode of transportation to fly around on.

MAGIC his magic consisted of being able to command wind, part water, conjure protective circles against demons, and freezing humans, deities and demons alike.

RUYI JINGU BANG his well known weapon that many knew to be in his possession. this magical staff was capable of changing sizes, multiply, and fight according to his whims. he considered it one of his most trusted ally.

GOLDEN-GAZE FIERY-EYES was his special eye condition that was gained through being stuck in a burning cauldron for 49 days. it allowed him to recognize evil in exchange for heightened sensitivity to smoke.

STRENGTHS:

a one-man army who was enough to bring great havoc in heaven in attempts to lock him up. this was someone to proceed with caution.

he just didn’t die. it was simple as that.

he’ll know if you’re evil in a heartbeat, and when you’re recognized as one he would put up the walls and be on a lookout.

an extremely versatile fighter who could use strategies well, was very good in combat in general, play with stealth, and had an arsenal of powers to use.

WEAKNESSES:

his transformation was not full on perfect. sometimes his tail popped out. and even if he was using one of the 72 earthly transformations, if emotional enough the tail might pop out.

smoke was very bad for his eyes.

a very proud one more often than not, you might be able to use his hubris to your advantage ( for even if he mellowed out, pride was still his sin ).

despite having quite the arsenal of magic spells, he much more relied on his combat skills and staff. due to the neglect on his magic, most things he could do with it weren’t that strong. even the freezing spells were on a very short time limit depending on how strong the enemies were.

[raendown]

@evergreen-dryad won second place for my 800 Followers Giveaway and here we have the story that they chose for me to write!

Pairing: None Word count: 4549 Song used: Dirty Work - Austin Mahone Summary:  Midnight shifts at the mission desk can get a little boring sometimes. To keep themselves entertained Iruka, Izumo, and Kotetsu turn on the radio and sing along. None of them expected to be caught dancing on top of the desks while they were busting out their dirtiest moves, though.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Dirty Work

A dry throat was the only thing Iruka got for heaving such a large sigh, eyes half lidded and ponytail drooping out of sheer boredom. He could understand why at least one person should be manning the mission desk at all hours, even the middle of the night, just in case a returning shinobi carried important information or required medical attention. What he didn’t understand was why three of them had to endure this torture together. Surely only one of them was needed and the other two could have been sleeping soundly in their beds? Iruka was shameless enough to admit he would fight both of his friends for the privilege of being one of the two who got to go home right now.

Three in the morning was quite possibly the deadest hour he could think of, caught somewhere in that ephemeral gray zone between late and early. Outside the windows the world was black like ink and as quiet as a graveyard. Inside the mission room was brighter but not much more exciting.

Kotetsu and Iruka sat back to back, using each other to stay upright as they fought the boredom of having nothing to do. All the paperwork they’d thought would keep them busy had been finished by just after midnight, leaving them all sitting there twiddling their thumbs, praying for a miracle. Izumo had disappeared about fifteen minutes ago but neither of them had any energy to go see whether or not he had lied about needing to use the restroom.

“Hey,” Kotetsu murmured. “Are you dead back there?”

“I think so,” Iruka groaned, slumping a little farther back. Kotetsu made a half-hearted noise of protest.

“Don’t knock me out of my chair; I’ll never make it back up off the floor.”

Snorting a little in a brief flash of amusement, Iruka made an attempt to sit up again. It didn’t really work all that well but the effort was there and he figured that was what mattered. Honestly, he thought, if Kotetsu fell over on the floor at least he would find some entertainment in watching his friend flop around for a bit.

Just before he started to seriously consider doing it on purpose the door swung open and Izumo strolled back in to the room with a confident swagger. On his face he wore a look of triumph and over one shoulder he carried what looked like an old style boom box.

“You may now worship the ground I walk on!” he declared, setting his prize down on one of the tables in the far corner. Kotetsu snorted.

“We’ve talked about this, Zoomer. Doesn’t matter what you think, you are not god’s gift to humankind.”

“Fine then. You don’t get to come to my sick dance party!”

Sticking his nose in the air dramatically, Izumo waited until both of them had turned around in their seats to look at him before making an unnecessarily ostentatious presentation of the boom box. When he plugged it in and fiddled with the dials he had to cycle through quite a lot of static before it managed to pick up a local radio station.

“I found this in the storeroom downstairs just collecting dust,” he told them. “And I thought it would be a perfect cure for this unending boredom!”

“You know, you might actually have done something right for a change,” Kotetsu teased his friend.

Iruka covered his laugh with one hand when Izumo squawked indignantly, yelling about ungrateful friends and how no one ever appreciated the efforts he made. While the two of them bickered Iruka heaved himself up to amble across the room and turn up the volume. The crooning strains of a recently released love song filled the air, making him groan. Such an overplayed song.

He refrained from complaining too much, though, even in his head. Any excuse to break up the monotony of this never-ending shift was more than okay in his books. Instead, he sang along under his breath and hopped up to park his butt on the top of the table next to the radio so he could watch Kotetsu poke Izumo in the forehead and grumble something about idiots who couldn’t take a joke with grace. Since their bickering was a more than common sight for anyone who knew them even slightly well, Iruka wasn’t too worried about having to possibly break them up.

As he suspected, they were laughing together again within five minutes. Giving his best friend a playful shove, Izumo turned back to fiddle with the radio some more. Iruka slapped his hand away.

“Hey!” Izumo protested. “I’m the one who found it!”

“And now I’ve commandeered it. Just call me Captain of the Boom Box.”

“Captain Boom Box!” Kotetsu laughed so hard that he tripped over his own feet. “That makes you sound like a really terrible comic book hero whose superpower is just having such a fantastic ass that it distracts all your enemies.”

“That is obviously not how I meant it!” Iruka shouted at him.

Neither of them listened to him. They were too busy howling with laughter and making crude grabbing motions with their hands. He rolled his eyes and turned up the volume again to drown them both out, continuing to turn the knob until the speakers shook the table upon which he was sitting. After the sappy love song finally came to an end the DJ put on something with a more upbeat rhythm and faster lyrics and, as he had hoped it would, the distraction was enough to get his friends’ attention and start them tapping their toes.

“See?” Izumo called above the music. “Sick dance party!”

Without a single care for how ridiculous he looked, the brunet stuck out his butt and wiggled it around, bopping it to the beat and tracing random shapes through the air. Not to be outdone, Kotetsu set his feet apart, put one hand on his hip, and began to point the index fingers of his other hand in random directions as though that even counted as a dance move. Iruka watched the both of them with a shaking head. Sometimes he mourned the day he’d made friends with these idiots.

He had to admit though, the beat was sort of catchy. Usually quite a busy guy, he didn’t often have time to just sit down and listen to music. Most of his work required a bit of quiet so that he could concentrate. When he wasn’t doing that he was stuck in a classroom full of screaming children and adding another layer of noise was the absolute last thing he would want to do. Iruka loved his kids, of course he did, but any teacher in the world would sympathize that they were the source of nearly every headache he’d ever had.

Deciding to stay out of the madness his two friends were starting up, Iruka simply wriggled in to a more comfortable position and mentally judged the terribleness of their moves against that one time last year they had all gotten really drunk and crashed Anko’s house for similar shenanigans. Their coordination was only marginally better and he took some imaginary points off for having less alcohol in their system and still only managing a slight improvement.

It only took until the end of one more song before his plan to stay out of things was foiled. Somewhere between dangerously flailing his arms and tossing his head around like he was having a seizure, Kotetsu finally took notice that one of them hadn’t joined in.

“Uh oh! Party pooper spotted!” He was only just audible over the radio but his grin said enough all on its own. “Looks like someone is being booooooriiiiiiiing!”

“I’m not boring, I’m sensible,” Iruka protested. When the two of them began to stalk towards him with evil expressions he shuffled backwards, crawling farther up on to the table.

“You think you can get away from us so easily?” Izumo cackled.

With a quick lunge he made a grab for Iruka’s feet, just barely missing as the other man pulled them up out of reach and tried to crawl away down the length of the table. Kotetsu dodged around to head him off so Iruka scrambled to stand up and jump over their grasping hands. All three of them were laughing as he ran light-footed down the table and leaped over to another one to continue his escape.

At the end of that table he was brought up short when Izumo used a replacement jutsu to switch himself out with a conveniently placed stapler and caught him by both arms. They wrestled playfully, each trying to knock the other sideways.

“Try and escape from dancing with us, will you! I’ll show you! What kind of friend won’t even make a fool of himself with the rest of us?” Iruka was laughing too hard to fight back properly or even answer. He barely noticed when Kotetsu clambered up with them.

“Oh man, he’s got the right idea though! Table dancing!”

Scrunching his face in to what may have been intended as a ‘rock star face’, Kotetsu tilted himself backwards as he busted out his best air guitar, trying hard to match the song. Unfortunately he had no idea how to actually play guitar so it mostly came out as weird twitchy hands movements. Lucky for him they at least knew what he was trying to do.

Still with Iruka in his grip, Izumo started to swing their bodies from side to side wildly in a bastardized waltz of some sort. He even hummed along with the radio just loud enough for his friend to hear, making Iruka laugh and give up at last.

“Fine!” he cried. “Fine, I’ll dance! But if anyone’s eyes start bleeding, I take no responsibility.”

“You’re not that bad, ‘Ru,” Izumo tried to tell him. Kotetsu snorted and paused his guitar playing.

“Remember that one year on Genma’s birthday–”

“No! No one remembers that! Shut up!” Iruka was already red in the face by the time he cut the other off, reaching past Izumo’s shoulder to try and clap a hand over his mouth. Kotetsu only snickered and skipped out of reach.

“I’ll stay shut up as long as you’re dancing!” he crowed, now transitioning in to beating on a set of air drums.

This time it was Iruka who grabbed Izumo’s hands, pulling him back in for more terrible waltzing to the amusement of both the others. Whether they were laughing at the memory of Genma’s birthday or at the look of frantic desperation on his face wasn’t clear. His dance partner was certainly chuckling quite loud but went along with it easily, spinning them down the length of the table and falling in to a dip which Iruka had to hurry to catch him for.

After a few minutes of feeling terribly awkward, Iruka finally started to actually enjoy himself as all mentions of any previous embarrassments were forgotten about. He managed to extract himself from Izumo’s hold and dance on his own for a bit, swaying on the spot and swinging his hips from side to side. Now having hopped over on to another table to have more room for himself, Izumo was trying out some rather fancy footwork. Kotetsu appeared to have moved on to what looked like an air saxophone solo.

The next time the song changed Iruka nearly jumped in fright as the other two whooped with excitement. He watched curiously as Izumo hurried along the tabletops to go turn the music up just that little bit more.

“This is, like, our theme song!” he exclaimed.

Having heard the song a few times before, Iruka had to admit that some of the lyrics were fairly apropos for the midnight shifts in the mission room that the three of them seemed to constantly be getting stuck with. Kotetsu left off with whatever instrument he was pretending to play now and began to actually try to dance. Before he could second guess his choice, Iruka found himself joining in.

When the singer picked up the first few lines, all three of them immediately pitched in, singing as terribly all they possibly could and dramatically rolling up their sleeves as the lyrics told them to.

Rolling my sleeves up to here To make you smile ear to ear Girl I've been hitting that, hitting that graveyard shift You won't find another one built for this Dirty work, ooh Dirty work

Izumo waggled his eyebrows at the other two suggestively and rolled his hips in a circle. Since they were likely the only people in the village awake other than the gate guards, there was no one here to watch him make a fool of himself. And make a fool of himself he did, getting way too in to the motions and trying to use his arms to frame his body sensually.

On his own table, Kotetsu was only barely doing any better. Iruka would have thought they were both nuts if he wasn’t so busy trying not to lose his balance gyrating.

Baby I don't need no help I'd do it all by myself Girl I've been putting in, putting in over time You ain't gotta tell me what's on your mind Dirty work, ooh Dirty work

Any hope of being graceful was thrown out the window as all three of them continued to belt out the lyrics, attempting the use their bodies to pantomime when they could. Where their attempts at sensuality largely failed they made up for it with eager enthusiasm. At least none of them could say they were bored anymore.

Izumo had actually thrown one leg over so that he stood with his feet on either side of the boom box, bow-legged and still trying to grind with an invisible dance partner. Truthfully he looked a little stupid but neither of the other two had any room to say so considering their own moves, so they all simply kept dancing through the bridge of the song.

'Cause when you do what you love You're gonna love what you do You know I'd do it with love Each night I'd do it for you

This was the part of the song that Iruka loved the most, the part he actually identified with. As much as he might gripe and complain when he pulled the crappy shifts, he really did love his job just as much as any loyal shinobi should. He loved working with the children that he taught no matter how many headaches they gave him; he loved greeting weary travelers home no matter how many bad reports they handed in; he loved protecting his village no matter how many scars it left him with.

Filled with a joyous kind of pride, he found himself dancing with just a little more enthusiasm. His arms lifted to make wild shapes in the air around him, stroking down his sides and framing his hips, and when he heard one of the others catcalling him all he did was grin freely.

It's the dirty work Somebody's gotta do it Dirty work So we're getting into it Dirty work Go and get your body moving You know it ain't no nine to five We're going sundown to sunrise Dirty work Dirty work

Spinning himself in a surprisingly well executed circle, Kotetsu tossed his head back and closed his eyes. No doubt all aspects of their jobs could be considered dirty. From blood and dirt to finger paint to honeypot missions, there was no aspect of a shinobi’s life that was guaranteed to stay clean and pure. But there were also very few shinobi who had willingly chosen this lifestyle that would actually complain about it. Well, they might complain actually. They just wouldn’t mean it very much.

In fact, he thought with a smirk, depending on what kind of dirty they were getting down to, they might just like it.

I'm filthy down to the core Leave all your stress at the door You know you need to stop scrubbing with Mr. Clean Bring it right here, come next to me Dirty work, ooh Dirty work

Feeling emboldened in a way that was most unusual for him, Iruka crooked a finger across the room at his friend. It took a few moments for Kotetsu to open his eyes again and see that he was being beckoned but when he did he responded with a salacious look that made them both cover a snicker. He did hop back across to the other man’s table, though, and they both made a point of pretending to try and seduce each other with their moves. Izumo wolf whistled at them from over in the corner and it only encouraged them.

When they finally met in the middle Kotetsu dropped down in to a squat to pretend he was worshipping his friend from his knees. Iruka fanned his face with one hand, pretending to be impressed and overwhelmed, nearly ruining the effect with a snort of laughter.

As the bridge began again Kotetsu put his hand on either side of Iruka’s legs and slid them up while he slowly stood, mouthing the lyrics as he inched upwards.

'Cause when you do what you love You're gonna love what you do You know I'd do it with love Each night I'd do it for you

Now with both of them standing Kotetsu wrapped his arms around Iruka almost the same way their other friend had earlier. Only this time instead of trying to waltz he swung their hips back and forth, stepping in to the other man’s personal space like they were dirty dancing in a club. Iruka tried hard to keep his face straight while he attempted to follow along with the movements. He wasn’t generally a nightclub kind of person so he didn’t have a lot of experience with this kind of dancing and it showed a little.

He was far from letting that stop him at this point, however. After letting himself relax enough to get in to it he was having much more fun than he would have thought. That made it easier for him to get closer to Kotetsu, pretending he was some faceless attractive woman, and let his body undulate like he’d seen Anko do a few times.

It's the dirty work Somebody's gotta do it Dirty work So we're getting into it Dirty work Go and get your body moving You know it ain't no nine to five We're going sundown to sunrise Dirty work Dirty work

Watching them from his spot by the radio, Izumo was filled near to bursting with smugness. All signs of boredom were long gone as the three of them partied it up just like he’d been thinking of since the moment he uncovered his treasure in the storeroom. This was quite possibly the best accidental discovery he’d ever made – and that was saying a lot for someone who enjoyed snooping through his friend’s homes as much as he did.

In an effort not to let his friends outdo him, Izumo brought his leg back from where it was still straddled over the boom box and turned around. Bending his knees and dropping his torso forward, he gave his best shot at twerking. He could tell Kotetsu had spotted him when he heard a loud snort of laughter. Just for that he tried a little harder, jiggling his bottom to the beat of the nearly wordless refrain as the song approached its end.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na Dirty work Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na Dirty work Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na

Since apparently twerking was a lot harder than he thought, Izumo straightened up and returned to simply dancing as dirty as he could. The next time he went out for a few drinks he made a mental note to tell his female friends how impressed he was that they could do this kind of thing and manage to make it look sexy, not at all awkward. Although, for never having done this before he didn’t think he was doing all that badly.

Kotetsu and Iruka weren’t nearly as terrible as they could have been either. In fact, they actually did look kind of sexy as they moved their hips together and trailed their hands down each other’s arms. If only either one of them was gay he would have made a big deal about how good they looked together.

'Cause when you do what you love You're gonna love what you do You know I'll do it with love Every time I'm with you

As the song passed the bridge and went in to its final chorus, Kotetsu and Iruka separated at last, both of them putting just a little more energy in to their ‘performance’. Standing side by side, they watched each other from the corner of their eyes and tried to move together. When one swayed so did the other, and when one dropped down low the other followed. The compatibility that allowed the three of them to work so well as a cohesive unit in battle came in handy now for dancing as actually they managed to stay reasonably in sync.

Even though he was a bit far away to really make it a group finale, Izumo joined in from the corner anyway and all three of them raised their hands in to the air as they belted out the final lyrics and ground their hips in exaggerated circles.

It's the dirty work Somebody's gotta do it Dirty work So we're getting into it Dirty work Go and get your body moving You know it ain't no nine to five We're going sundown to sunrise Dirty work

Together as one all three of them struck as pose on the final note, Iruka with his hands on his hips, Izumo bent forward with his hands on his knees and his ass stuck out, and Kotetsu with one leg raised and his head thrown back. They were going for pinup poses, although how well they managed was anyone’s guess without someone else there to judge them.

The last notes of the song faded seamlessly into the next, some random overplayed boppy tune, and the change broke them all from their moment. Iruka laughed and shoved Kotetsu to knock him over while Izumo moved on to his usual set of dance moves, no longer trying to be sexy but just sticking with what he knew: being dorky.  As Kotetsu struggled to resume his balance and retaliate, Izumo twirled in a whimsical little circle.

And that was when he spotted the figure in the doorway, setting off a short rapid-fire chain of events.

When Izumo shrieked, Iruka looked up and saw the figure by the door as well. Without even seeming to think about it he reached in to his pocket and pulled out a pen, firing it at the radio with all the accuracy of a well-trained chūnin. It struck the power switch direct center, turning it off and plunging the room in to dead silence, then ricocheted in to Izumo’s ankle. As soon as his ankle was struck the man howled and – forgetting he was standing on top of a table – began to hop about in pain. Predictably, this brought him too close to the edge and sent him crashing down to the floor where he lay in an undignified heap.

Frozen in the doorway, Tsunade slowly tilted her head to one side and crossed her arms. Both of her eyebrows were so her on her forehead they were nearly indistinguishable from her hairline. The rest of her face was downright flabbergasted by the sight in front of her.

With sharp cries of shock and embarrassment, both of the remaining two men leaped down from the table, Kotetsu hurrying over to help his friend stand while Iruka tried very hard to convince the ground to open up and swallow him whole. His face was redder than a tomato and neither of the other two were faring much better. Tsunade watched them all scramble around without saying anything at first, obviously searching for words and coming up blank. It took nearly five minutes of cringe-inducing silence before she drew in a breath, paused to shake her head again, and finally spoke.

“I’m not even going to ask,” she muttered.

“There isn’t really a good explanation anyway,” Izumo said to his toes. Kotetsu glared down at the top of his head with a clear direction of blame. Tsunade drummed the fingers of one hand on her opposite arm.

“Am I really paying the three of you to do this in the middle of the night?” All three of them tried to answer at once and she waved a hand, cutting them all off. “No, I don’t want to hear it. Since it doesn’t look like there’s much for you three to be doing, two of you may go home now. Only one of you will need to stay behind for the morning shift to take over. Get a little rest and…perhaps think about using your work spaces more appropriately from now on.”

Hanging their heads with shame, the three men nodded in frantic agreement. No matter how boring any future shifts might be, they wouldn’t be trying anything like this again any time soon. Eyeing them suspiciously, Tsunade turned away and left the room. She saw no need to tell them she’d fallen asleep on her desk after too many glasses of sake, only woken up by the sound of their music reaching her ears several floors above.

As soon as she was gone from the room the trio of chūnin looked at each other, relieved grins forming on all of their faces. Avoiding Tsunade’s infamous temper was sort of akin to staring death in the face and walking away scot-free. Their budding giggles were cut off before it could really start, however, when their Hokage popped her head back in to the room for a moment wearing a grin of her own.

“Oh, and boys? Thanks for the show.”

She gave them a wink and then she was gone again, leaving them all stunned.

Iruka was the first to recover. Without waiting for the matter to be discussed he took off for the exit, very much intending to be one of the two who got to go home early. He could hear his bed calling to him all the way from here, although the sound of it was somewhat drowned out by the fight that instantly broke out behind him when the same thought finally occurred to both Kotetsu and Izumo at the same time. Iruka kept going and didn’t look back.

Someone had to do the dirty work but tonight it would not be him.