#But seriously did Brother just ghost him for five years? What a jerk.

[something-very-special]

"Yeah, I'm... kinda special that way."

Minding my own business, working on another observations/impressions post, and then I realize I've accidentally spent half an hour theorycrafting based on twenty seconds of dialogue.

This got utterly out of hand. NieR conjecture, possibly spoilers, presumptions of deep lore knowledge.

This bowled me over: BroNier goes to visit Emil and they have an entire conversation about how Emil hasn't aged. I mean he hasn't (don't know if you noticed, it's hard to spot) but this was insane to me for two reasons: one, they didn't discuss this at all in Gestalt, and two, has Brother NOT been visiting him?! Popola mentions the letter with a familiarity that implies that Emil's name has become a regular part of the parlance between herself and Nier. Presumably they've kept up correspondence regarding un-petrifying Kaine, but I got a feeling from Papa Nier that he had been regularly visiting Emil, not just writing letters. Maybe it's because Papa Nier didn't even mention the difference so it just felt verboten that obviously it had come up some time in the last five years and they both just shrugged, but... Obviously the two still have a really good relationship so at least they've been keeping up correspondence (between Emil's insanely upbeat letterhead and the warmth with Brother greets him, which really hits in a whole different way by contrast to Brother's constant, simmering anger), but it was peculiar, and I don't believe that line was in the original. I still can't read Japanese so I'm talking out of my ass here, but I just feel like the entire exchange was much shorter (fitting with the conversation Papa has) and like it was added for the benefit of the audience. Kind of a 'no, we didn't forget to give him a new model, this is deliberate'. It does vaguely upset me that there was apparently a need to clarify. One of my favorite gameplay experiences was going through this with my friend-- I had done the full Ending D run so I knew exactly what was going on, but I was introducing the game to her in a Labor Day marathon so I was getting a lot of first-time reactions. She'd fallen in love with Emil at this stage, too, and was very excited to see how he grew up after the five year timeskip. I recall her audible confusion, and to have it actually addressed and explained away feel like a deprivation of a wonderful moment. Although the initial reaction is still there. I think I like playing this game alongside other people because, while I'll never be able to experience it for the first time again, I can do so vicariously through others. The person I'm playing with now is familiar with the original (from years ago) and also had a moment of audible confusion. Even disregarding that, it's difficult to be too offended because it introduces another bit of intrigue that's always been kind of on the back of my mind; how long has Emil been awake? I had been under the assumption that he had been put into a similar hibernation as the Gestalts (or at least some form of sealing, having fulfilled his duties as a weapon for a nearly-extinct humankind) and woken up relatively recently-- recently enough that he wasn't aware of his effective immortality, and of course being so isolated from the world and having his memories wiped the fact that he wasn't maturing just might not have registered (or maybe just been rolled in with 'I dunno man I'm a cute gorgon I'm already kinda weird!'). However, here, it's not only acknowledged, but something that he actively tries to brush aside when Brother asks him about it. "Yeah, I'm... special that way." So he's fully aware that, basilisk gaze aside, there something ain't right about him and it implies, if not shame, at least some level of discomfort. Which in turn leads me to ask a question that hadn't really occurred to me before-- how would he have had the experience to know Brother or Father's age and build by the sound of their footsteps? Obviously he's encountered people before; can't learn that just by listening to the scrabbling of your giant spiders. And that ties in to the observation that, of course, he's wearing the style of Seafront. If he didn't have his memory from the weapons laboratory then he had to have realized more recently the nature of his petrifying gaze; the statues in the courtyard are consistent with the 3300-era styles, which could be discarded as just

reusing extant NPCs until again you remember that they made Emil this complex and knew he'd only be around for an hour. It wouldn't have been out of the question to just put the male statue in a semblance of a suit-- just some little oddity. It's an unmoving model, after all, a relatively minimal timesink; how many hours do you think went into programming the seals? (A lot of hours. A lot of love. Look at those boys roll away.) So he must have encountered other people, from Seafront. The manor is considered 'haunted' in modern times, so it must not have been particularly recent, although probably also not that far back (it's hard to imagine they just never went to the library for decades-- although I assume that Rubrum actually wasn't active until after Weiss had been awakened, it was her activation that attracted the Shades, and it was this factor that alerted Sebastian to the possibility of being able to find the petrification research in her pages. That's all pure conjecture on my part). So long has Emil actually been awake and active? A while. Given his response to Brother mentioning he doesn't age, probably much longer than he would care to admit. Which leads to further conjecture, and of course this was always an eerie question: how did those statues wind up in the courtyard? Who were they? If Emil didn't remember anything from the weapons laboratory and just his more recent memories... why would he be so ashamed of his power? What did he do? By the time we meet him he's already, um... not doing so well. Kaine pegs him immediately as being the same as her; blessed with a horrific power, frightened and ashamed of what he's capable of, quietly harboring feelings of worthlessness and self-loathing ("You told me that even a life such as mine has value!"), and perhaps not... entirely... dismissive of dying. (He is, like, super okay with putting himself between Rubrum and everybody else in the library-- and Replicant actually changes Weiss' line from 'Brave words, but I see your knees quaking in fear!' to one that says it's pointless because everybody else is already too dumb to retreat, implying that Emil wasn't necessarily being brave so much as he put the worth of his own life below that of people he met anywhere from five minutes to twenty seconds ago. That or he knows he has about ten times as much HP as Brother does and with his staggering M. Def can tank hits from Rubrum for days.) I don't think it's a particularly hot take (even from me, on this blog, probably) to assume that Something Happened in the past that caused Emil to brand himself a monster and shut himself away in the Manor. What's only just really sinking in for me is just how far back int he timeline that might have actually happened, and how different the circumstances were when it did. How long has he been in the Manor, then? I used to assume a few years. I figured the statues were from before-- more concurrent with the audio drama, 'present day' more or less. Thinking on it again? It's... been a while.

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 3k

Summary: 

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears the echo of birdsong in her laughter, her song to the gods in the wind.

(Loosely inspired by Kimi No Nawa)

Masterlist link here 

AO3 link here

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything! 

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask! 

The first time it happens, Akaashi is in his third year of university. 

The upside of staying in Tokyo for university (his mother cried when he got into Waseda, her alma mater) is that he sees his family almost every weekend for cosy family dinners. The downside of staying in Tokyo for university is that he really has no excuse when his parents insist on carrying on Hatsumode, the first prayer of the new year, at the crack of dawn at the shrine close to their home. It’s not that he minds the tradition per se, but he did just spend all night rushing his projects just so he could adhere to the unspoken rule that no work should be done during the New Year holidays and spend some time flying kites with his little cousins. 

Still, there is something magical about starting the New Year watching dawn break and the world awaken from its slumber just as he reaches the summit of all twenty six steps to the top of the shrine, shrouded in the bare branches of the wisteria trees. He tosses coins into the box, drops into a deep bow twice, chin at waist level, clapping twice before bowing a final time. His mother buys far too many omamori, presses at least half of them into his unwilling hands when the omikuji he draws has a great curse scribbled on it. He’s not superstitious, so it doesn’t bother him, but he knows his mother is, so he does accept the omamori with some grace, though he draws the line at the love charm she tries to sneak into the pile. 

‘Mum, I’m too busy at school for a partner’, he tells her firmly. ‘Why don’t you pass it to Yuji-kun, he’s already started work, but hasn’t found a girlfriend from what Oba-chan tells me’. His elder cousin shoots him a particularly malevolent glare that he meets with a placid smile as his mother diverts her attention to him instead.

The faintest shiver runs up his fingers when he deposits the old charm he found in the corner of his closet, grey and faded with time, in the koshinsatsu osamedokoro, the omamori drop off open only during the first day of the New Year. The shiver turns into a ripple of cool water racing up his wrists and roars into an tsunami of dread when the attendant tells him all deposited charms will be burnt in the ritual fire in a fortnight’s time, but he writes it off as a symptom of his lack of sleep and starts to turn away. 

There’s a sudden echo of a nightmare of raging flames that prompts him to swivel around to snatch the omamori and stuff it back in his pocket, muttering apologies to the shocked attendant. Later, when he has time to process his impulse, he’d find it strange. In the meantime however, the festivities wait for no one, so he distracts himself by eating far too much dango and mochi in between rounds of tossing kites up to catch the wind. His uncles slip him full cups of sake and sweetened rice wine to his mother’s disapproval, which in hindsight he should have heeded, as he stumbles to bed that night, head heavy with alcohol. 

That night he dreams of a girl with curly hair, lying in a field of endless gold - daffodils to mark the dawn of spring. 

‘Also known as narcissus’, he hears himself say, hears himself narrate the myth of a man so entranced by his own reflection in the water that he lost his will when he realizes he cannot have his object of desire. A girlish voice lilts teasingly – ‘the flowers are too pretty to be ruined by your obsession of stories written by grumpy old men’. He wakes up with the ghost of laughter on his lips, but there’s a lingering sense of loss budding in barren soil of his heart. 

It does prompt him to pop by the florist near his parents’ house to order a bouquet of daffodils for his mom to be delivered on the first day of spring. He’s accustomed to the old couple running the shop, so he pauses just for a second when he walks into the store to find a new girl at the counter. She must not be used to customers yet, dropping the bouquet she’s working on when she notices him. 

‘Hi’, she stammers, cheeks pink. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘I’d like to make an advance order for daffodils please.’ 

‘For spring?’ she asks, and he nods, writing down his parents’ address when prompted. ‘That’s a good choice!’ 

She waves him off with a cheerful – ‘please come back again’, and he does not notice that there are stars in her eyes. 

His mother drags him back to the shrine on the third day of the holidays, and he obliges her, ever the dutiful only son, even though the frigid temperature makes his breath puff up into clouds and the tip of his nose turns numb. The old omamori is still snug in his jacket pocket, and as his fingers brush against it, he can feel the threads of the charm unravelling, the fabric almost fragile in its worn, threadbare state but he does not attempt to dispose of it again.  

‘What are you going to do once you’re done with your degree, Keiji?’ His mother asks, when they stop by an old teahouse for a cup of steaming genmaicha, the aroma of roasted rice tea warm against his cold nose. 

‘I intend to apply for a job at a publishing company after I graduate’, he tells her seriously, and she nods, encouraging him to continue. ‘I’m hoping it’s something to do with my major, preferably Japanese literature, better yet if it's poetry, but in this market, I’ll take what I can get’. 

His mother nods, smiling at him fondly. ‘I remember you used to be obsessed with Shakespeare and Greek myths when you were younger, all the way through high school, and your father and I thought that you’d end up majoring in that in university. You really surprised us when you chose to major in Japanese literature instead.’

‘I don’t know why, to be honest. Maybe I had a good Japanese literature tutor?’ He laughs, fiddling with his teacup. 

‘Mm I don’t think so though. I remember you complaining that Raku-sensei was so dull he caused everyone to fall asleep.’ He shrugs, and though she stares at him curiously, she does not pursue the line of conversation any further. 

That night he dreams of waking up in an old wooden house, shivering in a thick futon, the smoldering embers from the irori, mere inches from his face. It’s so very different from his childhood bedroom filled with modern appliances and walls of books neatly shelved in alphabetical order, but he doesn’t notice that in the dark. Instead, he reaches for his phone to check the time, bolting awake because that can’t be, he never misses his alarm, mentally calculating that he must leave the house in exactly fifteen minutes to make it in time for practice when a little boy bursts through the door. 

‘Nee-chan’, the little boy whines. ‘I’m hungry. Time for breakfast’. 

Did he just say Nee-chan? Scratch that - since when did he have a little brother? 

He scrambles out of bed, groping his way in the dark to the washroom. The cold water should wake him up, but when he looks up at the mirror above the sink, the face he’s staring at does not belong to him. No - it belongs to a dark eyed girl with curly hair - but it doesn’t make sense, shouldn’t make sense, because when he reaches a trembling finger to poke at the mirror, he is she or she is him - 

The ensuing panic and confusion makes him jerk out of his dream, but when he rushes to the washroom to check that he’s still himself, he is relieved to see that it’s still him - Akaashi Keiji, with dark circles around his eyes, staring back in disbelief. 

He chalks his strange dream up to the stress he carries around from trying to clear all his course work so he can audit additional classes over the next term. 

Except the dreams don’t stop, not even when he moves back to the university dorms. He keeps waking up drenched in cold sweat, clutching at his arms even though they’re clear of the scratches he sees in his dreams, red and raw and stretching all the way up his elbows. 

‘Be kinder to Hana-chan, Keiji-kun’, he hears the call of the same girl in his mind and he shudders, unsure whether the disembodied voice floating through his mind is a memory from his dream. ‘She’s going through an awfully tough time’.

‘It doesn’t give her the right to hurt you like that’, he can hear his faint disapproval. 

‘Never mind that, it’s not a big deal. What are we reading today – don’t tell me it’s anything like Hamlet. That was horrendously depressing.’ 

‘Midsummer’s Night Dream? It’s a romantic comedy at least.’

‘Only a nerd like you would read Shakespeare in high school – and it’s not even in Japanese!’

‘Hush – you don’t get to complain when I’m reading it out to you.’

‘What on earth is going on’, he mutters to himself. The copious amounts of frigid water he splashes onto his face is no antidote to this madness.

‘Sato-san, are you feeling alright?’ he asks his grimacing classmate in concern, lines of pain etched onto her face. 

‘I’m fine, Akaashi-kun’, she manages to spit out, clutching her stomach with white-knuckled hands. ‘It’ll pass in a bit, I hope’. 

‘Are you sure you’re fine? I could help you to the nurse’s office if that helps’. 

His classmate shakes her head, a blush staining her cheeks. ‘It’s just that time of the month. I apologise if that’s too much information to be polite’. 

Ah. But somehow even though he has no sisters, and his female classmates in high school were oddly reticent about their periods (strange, considering it is part and parcel of being a mammal for far more than a millenium) the steps to deal with this particular conundrum come to him so naturally it’s almost as if the answers were presented to him previously in a dream. 

‘Here’, he passes Sato-san painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle he’d managed to talk the university nurse into loaning him, and Sato practically whimpers in gratitude. 

‘You’re a lifesaver, Akaashi-kun’, she tells him and he nods, content that he’s solved the problem so efficiently. 

That night he wakes up in her body again. The room is dark, save for the sliver of white light between the blinds that allows him to discern the growing crimson stain between her legs. 

‘Don’t you know all women have to deal with this nonsense every month? But I’ll tell you a trick - painkillers, chocolate and a hot water bottle will make you feel as right as rain’, he hears her voice declare in his mind, and he startles awake to find himself back in his own bed, blessedly clear of any bloodstains. 

It must be a dream borne out of what happened today, he tells himself firmly and shrugs it off. The rest of his slumber is thankfully shorn of dreams. 

But then these dreams start to crash into his sleep like a series of never ending waves, and he’s a short hop, skip, jump away from falling off the cliff into a distracted madness, the rate his sleep keeps getting disrupted. He keeps waking up in her body, it makes him feel like a creep, wearing her skin like an ill-fitting glove, and he decided does not think about how strange it feels to have twin lumps of flesh in front of his chest (his mother raised him to be a gentleman, after all). 

The contents of these dreams are relatively cyclical. He wakes up at dawn, puts on her school uniform, makes breakfast for the little boy - Toya-chan over the primitive hearth before rushing to school through dirt paths lined with trees. His - or rather her classmates stare at her with a mix of condescension and apathy, and her hours in school are spent in a lonely silence, save when Hana-chan gets up in her face and screams absolute nonsense about staying the fuck away from her, which seems a little dramatic considering she’s the one doing the confronting, but it’s just a dream, so he keeps telling himself. It’s not like he can change anything about it. 

‘Does it bother you? That you’re alone?’ he asks her one day. 

‘Not really. I have you and Toya-chan, don’t I?’ she responds. 

‘I suppose’, he says, voice trailing off. 

He catches glimpses of sun drenched afternoons spent in fields of flowers, glances of dusky evenings spent in the forest basking in the light of the setting sun. He agonizes over stacks of homework, digs for mushrooms in the damp earth, climbs through wire fences to scavenge for eggs in neighbouring farms. 

‘Aren’t your parents worried about you and Toya-chan?’ he can hear himself question her one night. 

‘My mom is dead and my dad can’t be home often, he works on construction projects around Sapporo. He sends cash to me and Toya-chan, and it isn’t always enough, but he tries his best ’, she answers, her voice feather light. 

‘I’m sorry’, he tells her a little awkwardly, thinking about his happy family and wondering how it’d feel like to have them torn away from him so early on in life. 

‘Don’t be’, she replies, ‘Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to have good parents who’re dead or absent rather than horrible parents who’re still alive’. 

He jolts awake again, relieved to find himself back in his bed. It’s barely four in the morning, but he’s not going to be able to sleep after that, so he resigns himself to using the time to get cracking on his college assignments anyway. But he makes sure to call his mother once day breaks and he’s sure she’s returned from the market with groceries in tow, telling her awkwardly that he’s just calling to catch up and hopes she’s been well and ok bye mum I love you very much, heart pounding when he hangs up abruptly. 

He has a standing appointment on the first Thursday every month to meet Kenma for coffee at a café a stone’s throw away from Waseda. They both order black coffee, which is strange for Kenma considering his legendary sweet tooth, but he knows Kenma too well to know that the ridiculously successful game streamer is only drinking coffee to stay awake, the shadows under his eyes deeper and darker than those under Akaashi’s own eyes.  

‘Doesn’t Kuroo-san nag you go to bed at a decent time?’ 

Kenma doesn’t even bother to flick his eyes up, busy gulping mouthfuls of the bitter liquid. ‘Speak for yourself. Not sleeping well either?’ 

Akaashi shrugs his shoulders helplessly, stirring his coffee. ‘Mm. ‘I’ve been having strange recurring dreams and it’s been affecting my sleep’. 

Kenma merely hums in reply, and Akaashi finds himself spilling out the entire weird series of events – though to be absolutely accurate, his dreams aren’t real so they can’t be termed as events, but they’ve been haunting him for the past month so they might as well be at this rate. He explains about finding himself in the body of a high school girl with curly hair and a dimple on one cheek, how he’s lived her life enough in the past month that he can map out her days with startling certainty, how he knows it’s not real – it can’t be real, but his dreams glimmer with such vibrancy that they feel real. 

‘Am I going crazy?’ he asks. 

‘I highly doubt it’, Kenma says, tapping his chin in thought. ‘Maybe it’s like one of those exploration video games where you have to take your time to discover its world to figure out the narrative the game is feeding you.’ 

Trust Kenma to relate everything to video games. 

‘That was singularly unhelpful’, Akaashi says dryly as Kenma chuckles quietly in response. 

He is almost afraid to fall asleep again but his eyelids are weighed down by weeks’ worth of sleep deprivation and soon he finds himself again in her body. 

It’s a clear winter’s night. He’s huddled under a thick blanket to shield himself from the bitter cold, watching the embers in the hearth glow yellow and gold. 

‘It’s late. Can’t sleep?’ 

‘Mm’ he replies. ‘Wondering what tomorrow will bring.’ 

‘You’re overthinking again, Keiji’, she chuckles. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be just another day. You’ll wake up back in your warm bed at the crack of dawn for volleyball practice, attend classes in your fancy private school, and play even more volleyball with your beloved Bokuto-san’. 

He rolls his eyes heavenwards at her words and her laugh this time is loud, bright. 

‘You know I only speak the truth. Now, since you need to wake up ridiculously early tomorrow, why don’t I tell you a bedtime story so you can fall asleep.’

‘I’m not a child’, he replies dryly, but does not object when she starts to narrate the tale of a princess exiled from the moon, who is raised by a humble woodcutter and his wife to become a renowned beauty, with five suitors seeking her hand. ‘That’s mean of her’, he mumbles as she describes how the princess rebuffs her suitors by setting them impossible tasks, drifts to sleep as her voice softens as she describes how the princess falls in love with the Emperor, but breaks both their hearts because she knows she must return to the moon someday. He’s fast asleep when she reaches the ending where the princess leaves all her memories on earth with tears in her eyes, gifting the emperor with an elixir of immortality which he burns, because he declares life isn’t worth living without her. 

‘Goodnight Keiji’, she says, her voice shimmering in the still night air.   

For the first time in a long while, Akaashi wakes up at peace. 

Taglist: 

@1tooru @animeflower26 @kageyamakock

[namjooningelsewhere]

Run Away With Me!!

Pairing : Jungkook x reader

Rating : 18+

Warning- Bloodshed, Killing, Angst, Mentions of killing.

Word count- 1292

Summary- You had narrowed escaped death as a mafias daughter, You had been saved by your brother who died to save you from the death by the rival and sent you out of that world. You lived a simple life until the purple headed stranger whose life you had saved accidently turns out to be the most beautiful accident of your life.

Life had been very unpredictable lately, You worked as a florist in a small yet peaceful village by the sea. It had been a regular day at shop, normal familiar faces who were almost same through out the year until this night.

This night changed very thing for you. You belonged to a mafia family, a ruthless one at that. So when your father killed a member, His family ended up anhilating your entire family. Your brother had managed to make you escape safely while he was being shot.

You managed to build your life with whatever had left and led a comfortable life by saving the rest of the money and investing some. It was curve that life had thrown at you and you were going to make the most of it, at least for your family who had still let you out safe while they died.

That night happened to be like another night, You closed down the shop and started walking home with earphones plugged in your ears as you walked a bit you did not realize about the scene happening right infront of you.

You were so engrossed looking down, You did not look at the situation right infront of your eyes. You almost lost your balance when you hit yourself at something broad. You looked up to see a shabbily dressed man holding a gun. A mother fucking gun.

You had grown up to these toys so it did not panic you even one ounce at the weapon. It pissed off the man with it, "Doesn't this scare you bitch? Got a brave ass right there huh?" He asked almost shoving the gun at your face.

"Hey Davis, we got a brat right here, He signaled the other four to come to him. "She looks delicious man, what say why don't we tame the brat in her today? One of the spewed. It took everything in you to not let go yourself to snap these rats head but since you had left the violence behind you had not preferred going down the line.

Being the youngest you were trained to handle people, weapons', even explosives for that matter and you would never want to hurt anybody on purpose because you were aware of the monster that lied deep beneath your skin, Raging for blood, Raging for red.

The mans pull at your waist jerked you to the other side and made you loose balance you fell on your knees besides a man who had hands tied, looked like they had trashed him but what caught your attention was the shit eating grin he had plastered on his face.

You somehow mirrored the smirk that he had, but you just did not want to show. You were yanked by the men to your feet, That was it. One more touch and you were going to be walking over there dead bodies. "Nice ass you got there slut, Wanna see how it looks while fuck it." The other member said spanking you, "I dare you to touch me again, You grinned. The red was out and you had snapped.

"Look at the guts the slut has." the man with the gun said. He raise his hand to spank you again, But before he could you kicked free from the clutches and dodged the gun from the mans hand and shot him straight for the head, doing the same with the rest of the four.

That's it, Five dead bodies lying right down to your feet, One stupidly grinning man who had somehow hot attractive purple hair was your story for the night. You looked at him questioningly and the grin became even more wider. "Stop before i blow that purple head of yours. You say.

I knew you were a tigress the moment i saw the glean of danger in your eyes, I knew you had a monster hiding right in there. He smiled. You freed his hands and looked at the scratches on that tattooed hands which looked even intense with those tattoos. "You screwed them over?" you asked curiously. "Yeah something like that he said.

You watched around the place and found the building right above you had CCTV and so did the building in the front and also the restaurant marking your different angles. "They belong to a gang right?" You asked poking them with your legs. "Yes they do, He said curtly. "And now they would think i am involved with you since i became a knight in shining armor when you were held captive?" "Most Likely" He said amused at how fast you were putting the pieces together.

You shot both the cameras and turned towards him, "What do you think they will still come back after me?" "Us" He corrected. "they will think us as a team, Unfortunately you are tangled inn this mess." He expected a much bigger reaction than a plain hmm from you to be honest but it did not scare you, instead you went autopilot to think of an escape plan.

You are a gangster aren't you?" He asked back with that shit eating grin on his face. No sister of mafia you said." He looked at you like a ghost but kept walking like nothing. "So your father is going to protect you?" He asked. Well he did by letting me out before he was killed." you sigh.

What am i going to do next?" You sigh in irritation. I might have the answer to that. But lets get hold of some clothes, your passport, My bike and stuff and then il tell you the way out. He snorted. "you agreed picked up his clothes and you got yours from your apartment.

Life seemed to be returning in place with the events of the night but nothing had ever been normal in your life. You waited while the man got his bike, A black bike stopped right infront of you, It was him alright. "Jungkook" He said moving his hand ahead for a handshake. "Eva" you said

About the plan, He said running his hand back of the head, "You now i have something solid in mind considering you are stuck with my name and also as an ally, Why don't we make it real? He said. "As in?

" I asked. "Run away with me! He said with something intense but i couldn't pinpoint it. The offer sounded exciting and seemed like you were meant to live like this.

After six months of that spin, you spent time running living out of a suitcase and travelling the world like a action movie with Jungkook by your side. There were sparks and Jungkook happened to be the best sex you ever had, He had been more of a companion then an ally. But you loved every ounce of it.

"Jeon Jungkook and Jeon Ara? Seriously JK? What are we siblings?" You scoffed. He spat the water he had been sipping with an amused face. I would highly refrain from that considering the things we were doing this morning." He grinned. "Asshole" You smacked his head before deciding on the next destination.

Your life with him was an action movie but there was no other way you'd rather want it to be.

[goodlucktai]

a little room to grow

@natsumeweek 2021 day 5; freedom/possession

read on ao3

(previous part)

x

Hinata takes one look at them and says, “Holy shit. Get in here, Natoris.”

So they must look pretty bad, then. 

Takashi is uncharacteristically quiet, going right to the sofa and gathering Hinata’s cat up in his arms. 

Hinata watches him for a moment, turns and stares directly into Shuuichi’s face, and then heads into the kitchen to snatch up a takeout menu that she keeps permanently stuck to the front of her fridge under a huge Cinnamoroll magnet.

“Sit,” Hinata says with a jerk of her chin towards the table. She tucks her cellphone between her shoulder and her ear and unfolds the paper menu with a business-like snap. “I’m ordering enough junk food for all three of us, and then you’re going to tell me why you look like that.”

Shuuichi sits. 

Hinata lives with her single mother, who works thirds, and her aunt, who doesn’t work but often has somewhere else to be. It’s unlikely either of them are going to make an appearance tonight.

The TV is on in the living room, playing what sounds like Sailor Moon. Takashi is watching it just because it’s already on, but he’s slowly becoming more invested the longer he sits there—Shuichi can tell from the way his hand on the little cat in his lap slows its petting, the way his round brown eyes become fixed on the screen. The sounds of traffic and rain outside are muted, the outside world hardly existing past what little pieces of it make it through the open window in the kitchen. 

It’s peaceful here. It’s almost home, even.

Hinata puts the phone down, sits across from Shuuichi, and crosses her arms on top of the table. Her silence is expectant.

Shuuichi says, “I don’t think I’m going to university.”

His friend inclines her head, an invitation to go on. 

“The university my father wants me to go to is almost an hour away from here,” Shuuichi says, clenching his fists. “And it wouldn’t be possible for Takashi to transfer there, because someone in the school district administration is a cousin of his or something. Word got around about his behavior, and they don’t think he’d be a good addition to their student body.”

“Takashi’s relatives haven’t had anything to do with him since he was five,” Hinata says hotly. “What the hell do they know about his behavior? He’d be the best thing to happen to that school in the last hundred years.”

Shuuichi, who completely agrees with her, says, “You’re biased.”

“I’m right.” She taps her fingers anxiously against the table. “Let me guess, your dad—”

“Doesn’t see the problem. Told me I was going anyway.” Shuuichi barks a tense, humorless laugh, sitting back and pushing a hand through his hair. “Could you imagine? Me, leaving Takashi in that house, with those people? With no one but ghosts to talk to?”

It was inevitable that Hinata would find out about Shuuichi and his brother’s ‘gift,’ given how much time they spend together and all the odd things Takashi says on a daily basis. The most remarkable thing to come of the ultimate reveal was the solid three months she spent relentlessly trying to bribe, coerce and blackmail Shuuichi into using his paper magic to send her notes during school hours, because they were put in different classes in their third year. 

Now, she frowns deeply, and says, “No. That won’t do. So what’s the plan?” 

“I’m working on it,” Shuuichi replies. 

“I would be okay,” Takashi pipes up. Shuuichi looks up to find his little brother standing by the table with wide, grave eyes. He’s tugging anxiously at the cuffs of his sleeves. The worry on his face doesn’t belong there. It doesn’t fit someone his age. “If you had to go.”

Shuuichi pushes his chair back and lifts his arm. Takashi rounds the table and allows himself to be tucked against Shuuichi’s side snugly. 

“Maybe you would, but I wouldn’t,” Shuuichi says. “I’d miss bugging you too much.”

“I mean it,” Takashi says stubbornly. “I don’t want you to get yelled at anymore.”

“I mean it, too,” Shuuichi replies. “Dad can yell all he wants. You’re stuck with me, squirt.”

Saying it out loud settles something anxious that’s been rattling around in his chest. Knowing what he has to do makes it easier to focus on the steps that come next. For now, he tilts to the side so that he can rest enough of his weight on his little brother that he starts to sag underneath it.

“Nii-san! Stop, you’re heavy!”

“What was that?” Shuuichi says loudly, tilting farther, half out of his chair at this point. “I’m heavy? Is that what you said?”

The doorbell rings, and Hinata says, “No no, I’ll get it, don’t let me interrupt your intricate bonding rituals,” which is a cue that they should stop messing around and go help her carry in the frankly staggering amount of takeout bags a weary-looking delivery boy is wielding on the porch. 

“Munchkin, will you get some glasses and the iced tea?” Hinata asks. “Let’s eat in front of the TV like slobs.”

Takashi slides back into the kitchen, skidding a little too far in his socks and knocking the paper towels off the counter, and Shuuichi snorts. It feels like the first time he’s smiled in a year. 

Hinata touches his arm. “Hey,” she says seriously. “I’m going to visit Isamu on Thursday, and I’m staying for about a week. You two should come with. Stop thinking about all this stuff for a bit and give yourself a break.”

“I don’t want to bother you guys—”

“Try not to be an idiot for once in your life,” Hinata says with an exaggerated air of total exhaustion. “You know it wouldn’t be a bother. Besides, Isamu has a little sister Takashi’s age, and she’s into all kinds of weird stuff. They’d probably get along like a house on fire.”

Shuuichi thinks a week in the country sounds pretty good, actually. He’s mulling it over when Takashi comes running; with a stack of colorful plastic glasses in one hand, a pitcher of tea in the other, and a box of Koala March tucked into the crook of his elbow.

“Can I have these, nee-san?” he asks brightly. He looks nine years old again instead of ninety, all that worry from earlier finally unseated. 

“Oh, I guess,” Hinata says with deep reluctance, as if she didn’t buy them specifically for Takashi in the first place. She doesn’t even like chocolate. “Dinner first, though! Put those koalas where I can see them!”

She cares about Takashi like it’s effortless. Like it just makes sense to make space for him in her home and keep his favorite snacks in her kitchen. Considering the place they came here from, it disarms Shuuichi completely.

“We’ll go with you,” he says without thinking.

“Of course you will,” Hinata replies immediately. “I was only asking to be polite. Now eat your food.”

And that’s how they wind up in Hitoyoshi, Kumamoto, of all places. It’s unmistakably beautiful but Shuuichi only gets a brief moment to appreciate the scenery before Hinata is dragging him—and by extension, Takashi—out of the station to the street outside, where a familiar face is waiting. 

She releases Shuuichi in order to fling herself bodily at Isamu, who doesn’t so much as bat an eye. Hinata is much taller than her boyfriend, which Shuuichi thinks is just typical of Hinata, but Isamu doesn’t care. She could be seventeen feet tall and weigh a thousand pounds and he would still find a way to hold her. 

“Hey,” he says over her shoulder, lifting one hand to wave at the Natoris. “Hug train is pulling out of the station, get yours before it’s gone.”

Laughing, Shuuichi says, “I’m good. Takashi?”

“No, thank you,” Takashi says politely.

“Your loss.” Hinata sniffs, and busies herself with picking up the bags she’d flung to the ground. “Is your sister at home?”

“Mhm,” Isamu says, taking one of Takashi’s bags and slinging it over his own shoulder. “She’s shy. I’m amazed she agreed to meet you guys at all. Bribery was involved.”

Takashi shuffles, glancing sideways at Shuuichi. 

“I’ll bet you two-thousand yen that you’re best friends by the end of the day,” Shuuichi says at once, to make the situation a win-win. That always works.

Sure enough, Takashi holds out his hand. “Deal.”

They shake on it solemnly. 

Isamu gives Shuuichi a deeply approving look and says, “I’ll have to remember that one.”

Tooru and Takashi are actually best friends within about an hour and a half. 

Once the Natoris have been settled into a large guest room and wandered around on a cheap tour of the estate, and Hinata has dumped all of her stuff in her boyfriend’s bedroom, Isamu drags Tooru out of hiding to eat a late lunch with them. 

Tooru shuffles into the chair across from Takashi and makes her polite introduction, and then mumbles that she only has a couple of friends so she isn’t sure what they ought to talk about. Takashi blithely replies that he doesn’t have any friends, because he can see yokai and people tend to think that’s strange. Shuuichi and Hinata are both frozen, holding their chopsticks halfway to their mouths as they wait to see which way this is going to go, but Isamu just takes an unhurried sip of tea.

And then Tooru lunges across the table to seize Takashi’s hands, shouting, “You can see yokai? You have to come meet my grandpa!” and all but drags him out of the kitchen, their lunches left untouched. 

“You might never get your brother back,” Isamu says mildly. “That’s okay, there’s enough space here for two little weirdos.”

“So you believe in ghosts now?” Hinata demands. 

“I don’t believe in things I can’t see for myself,” Isamu replies. He waits a beat, rolling a thought around in his head like a marble, and then adds reluctantly, “But if three people I trust can see them, maybe that’s just as good. I already apologized to gramps for thinking he was just a delusional old man.”

“You did not say that to your grandpa,” Shuuichi says, horrified. 

“I didn’t say it, I just said I was sorry for thinking it.” Isamu sits back in his chair, frowning at his plate. “Tooru never needed any proof. She believes him just because she loves him. I think there’s value in that. Figured I’d give it a try.”

When Shuuichi tracks the kids down later, they’ve multiplied. Sasago and Urihime are supervising as Tooru, Takashi, and two little boys of a similar age chase each other around the garden, a half-dozen little yokai running underfoot. 

Takashi spots him and brightens, breaking away from the game to jump up onto the porch and slam into Shuuichi’s side. Shuuichi ruffles his hair, because it’s already a windswept mess, and it makes Takashi wrinkle his nose in annoyance. 

“Taki-ojisan wasn’t feeling well, so he’s taking a nap,” Takashi explains. He’s flushed from the sun and grass-stained. “We had fun, though. All of his yokai friends had lots of things they wanted to say to him so we played telephone. Mostly they were teasing him, which didn’t seem very nice, but it made oji-san laugh a lot.”

“And who are those two?” Shuuichi asks, nodding at the unfamiliar boys. 

“Tooru’s friends from school. They were coming by to see if Tooru wanted to go to the river with them, and she introduced me.” Shyly, Takashi adds, “They’re nice.”

“Hey!” the russet-haired boy calls over. “Are we going swimming or what?” 

“Can we, please?” Tooru asks, folding her hands together.

His brother gazes up at him with eyes that are big and hopeful, a look that has worked for him for years. Shuuichi shakes his head ruefully. 

“As long as you stay with Tooru, and don’t let your phone get soaked,” he says sternly. “And you know to answer when I call, right?” 

“Right,” Takashi says, without attitude, because that’s one of their most important rules. “Can I take Urihime with me? She’ll throw Satoru in the water if I ask her to, Sasago won’t.”

“For that reason alone, you’re taking Sasago,” Shuuichi replies. 

It’s a noisy circus troupe of kids who finally leave, armed with towels and a bag of snacks pilfered from the kitchen and an entourage of rowdy spirits that only one of them can see. 

Shuuichi leans against the gate, watching them go. He’s wary of the unfamiliar yokai, but with his shiki nearby and clearly unbothered, he doesn’t see a reason to break up the strange congregation. Over the years, he’s had to get used to the way Takashi attracts these things. They come to him like moths to a flame. 

Most exorcists hate yokai, but Shuuichi doesn’t. How could he? His little brother is a medium, and some of the only people he can count on to babysit for him are his familiars. Yokai are so much a part of his life that to hate them would be to fill his heart with hatred, and he doesn’t have room in his heart for all that. It’s too full of other things. 

Hinata joins him by the door. 

“You know,” she says carefully, “I was going to bring this up later, but…the university that Isamu and I are going to is only a half-hour away from here. And the schools here are really good.”

Shuuichi stands in the sun, watches his little brother laugh with children his own age, and exhales.

[wincestismyguiltypleasure]

Warnings: Weecest, a little angsty, jealous!Sam, bratty, emotional, and confused baby brother content, feminization, name calling, humiliation, sadist!Dean, spankings, and of course, that sweet, sweet fucked up codependency. 💋

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

Sam just wanted Dean's attention. He always had.

And when he didn't get it, Sam felt not only emotionally, but physically injured by his brother's "neglect." Like Dean had taken his switchblade to Sam's heart, cutting it open just a little bit to play with it. As if he was curious to what was inside. Like Dean had no clue know that every vein, artery, and nerve worked in unison for him.

And over the years, that small wound had ripped open wider and wider on it's own, even though it was no secret that Dean's life had always revolved around Sam.

Perhaps it was a product of Sam's jealousy? His resentment towards John and the unshakable devotion Dean showed him?

Sam didn't really know. But no matter the cause, what was once a dull ache in Sam's chest was now a blinding pain. The only hope of soothing it resting solely on his big brother's touch.

And the worst part about it? Dean knew. He knew Sam was desperate for something so simple as a sideways glance or a pat on the back. Sam would poke and prod and tug at the hem of Dean's shirt for just the slightest bit of recognition, like he really didn't know that he was already the very center of his big brother's entire world.

It was infuriating sometimes, and it made Dean want to be cruel just to prove a point. Besides, at the end of the day, Dean was still Sam's big brother. Ignoring him was part of Dean's job description. And maybe, just maybe, Dean got a sick sense of satisfaction out of making Sammy beg like a slut for something that was already his.

"Dean, c'mon! Pay attention!"

John had only been gone for ten minutes before Sam was shaking Dean's leg violently, trying to make his brother look up from the magazine he was reading.

"Jesus Christ, Sam. Can't you leave me alone for five fucking seconds?"

Dean doesn't have to see Sam's face to know the younger boy is pouting; the corner of his lips turning up in a twisted smirk at the thought of his little brother's pretty eyes starting to water.

There's no answer to Dean's question, just a loud huff and the sound of the bathroom door slamming, rusty screws barely keeping it on the hinges.

And if Dean didn't get such a kick out of being an asshole to his needy little brother he might have felt bad for hurting Sam's feelings. But he doesn't, mainly because this was all part of the sick, fucked up game they'd been playing since Sam had turned sixteen. This volatile give and take, back and forth, born out of Sam's misguided pain. The younger boy thinking that Dean loved John more than him and Dean's cutthroat determination to prove his little brother wrong. To show Sam that even if he isn't looking, he's still paying attention. And that he couldn't stop paying attention to Sam even if he tried.

Honestly, Dean still gets a little hot under the collar thinking about the first Sammy pushed his buttons like this. He'd been both mortified and so disgustingly turned on when he found out that his sweet baby brother knew just how to act bratty and coy to get fucked through the mattress. God, Dean was so pissed and guilty about it at the time that he'd almost thrown up afterwards.

Even now, Dean feels kinda queasy. But the feeling is so simple to ignore this go around because he's also rock hard and shaking a little from the anticipation.

Oh, and of course, Sam makes him wait. Almost two fucking hours. Tiny beads of water still dripping from the younger boy's long, dirty blonde hair when Sam finally emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of lacy blue panties and a triumphant smile.

"Seriously, Samuel?" Dean asks, trying his best to keep his voice steady as he tosses his magazine to the side and sits up.

But Sam, being the shameless little tease that he is, just grins wider and does a slow turn. Making sure to show off every sharp curve and flawless inch of sun kissed skin he had before looking over at Dean and giggling.

"Think you can ignore me now, big brother?"

Sam barely gets the words out before Dean is off the bed, marching over to him with purpose, not stopping until the two of them are only a few inches apart and his baby brother's eyes are wide with fear.

"What do you want, Sam?" The older boy asks through gritted teeth, even though the answer is so painfully obvious.

And even though it is, Sam can't say it. He's never been able to because it's Dean's job to know. Without Dean guiding the way, Sam's just a confused kid with a need so intense and overwhelming that it could swallow him whole. And it would, if it wasn't for Dean.

Dean knows what Sam wants, and Sam hates the fact that he doesn't hate his brother for making him feel this way.

But still, he can't talk and he can't explain, so instead Sam just whines. Taking a timid step forward into his brother's personal space, searching for pity with those big innocent doe eyes. And fuck, does that do the trick. Every. Single. Time.

"What, baby?" Dean asks again, this time softer, his expression lightening as he grabs Sam by the wrist to pull him closer.

"Dean."

Sam's knees feel wobbly. His heart threatening to pound out of his chest because there's nothing in the world more intoxicating and simultaneously terrifying than looking into Dean's gorgeous green eyes when they're full of rage and passion.

"You want this?" Dean's voice is rough, like cigarette smoke blown over shattered glass as he guides Sam's trembling hand between his thighs. Pressing his little brother's warm palm hard against his erection before he makes Sam squeeze just a little, the both of them letting out a breathy groan.

"Please Dean," Sam whimpers, knees nearly buckling when Dean leans forward with a filthy grin, cherry red lips ghosting lightly over Sam's. The older boy teasing him like he always did. Pretending like wasn't eventually going to give Sam everything he wanted and more.

"Say it."

Sam's stomach clenches at the command, throat going dry because he hates this part. (Or at least Sam pretends that he does.)

"I want..." Sam groans, eyes closed tight as Dean nuzzles against him, making Sam go crazy with need. "I want your cock. Please Dean."

When Sam hears Dean chuckle, a low, filthy sound that makes his insides feel unbearably hot, Sam almost starts crying again. He's so naive and inexperienced compared to Dean. And Dean knows Sam feels like an idiot when his big brother makes him talk dirty. Which is exactly why he does it. The bastard.

"I know you do, baby boy," Dean laughs as he takes a step back, and Sam swears he feels his heart detach and drop into his stomach. Long, bony fingers instinctively trying to curl around Dean's shirt but to no avail.

"Dean-"

Sam's temper tantrum is cut short when Dean sits down on the foot of the bed and raises a hand, the look on his face calm but dangerous and it makes Sam almost swallow his own tongue.

"C'mere and lay across my lap."

"Why should I?"

Sam's voice doesn't sound like his own when he challenges his brother. It's weak and breathless and honestly, Sam can't believe an apex predator like Dean didn't go for his throat right then and there.

"You've been buckin' for my attention all day, sweetheart. You got a better way to get it?"

God, Sam wishes he did because the last thing he wants is to give in so easily. But what Sam's been dying for is right here in front of him now. Ripped jeans wrapped tight around thick thighs that he'd sell his soul to be bent over and Sam isn't about to turn down an open invitation.

"Gotta hand it to you, little brother," Dean says when Sam's finally stretched out across his lap. Sam's pretty face, flushed and tear stained, hidden in the mattress as Dean starts to soflty rub circles against his ass. "Despite all that fuss, you really are an obdient little bitch."

"Fuc-"

Sam nearly gags on his insult when he feels Dean's palm, rough and warm, connect with his right ass cheek. The blow hard enough to make his whole body jerk, tears of frustration rather than pain starting to blur his vision as he squirms in Dean's lap.

"Dean, please," Sam begs, his tight panties completely soaked through as he rubs himself desperately against Dean's thigh. His cock so hard and swollen that he feels a little dizzy, pleasure and pain fighting for dominance in his mind. Every one of his nerve endings on fire as Dean continues his ruthless assault. Each gentle touch followed by a thunderous smack that Sam swears makes his teeth rattle.

"Hey, don't cry, baby boy," Dean whispers when one of his rough blows finally rips a sob from Sam's throat. "This is what you wanted right? My undivided attention?"

Sam chokes back the urge to tell Dean that he hates him. One, because he doesn't. They both know that. And two, because if Sam doesn't swallow his pride soon and play by Dean's rules, he knows he'll never get want he really wants. That's what all this is about after all. Sam's insatiable need and Dean's absolute willingness to provide.

"C'mon, Sammy. You're a smart kid, you know what your answer should be."

Sam's only response is a loud, wanton groan, his knuckles turning chalk white around the blanket beneath him when he feels the tip of Dean's finger, rough and slick with spit, tease his rim. Pressing just hard enough to make Sam's hips jerk, but not applying quite enough pressure to slip inside him.

"Yes," Sam croaks, daring to push back against his brother's finger only to be rewarded with a smack to his right ass cheek that makes him see stars. "This is what I wanted."

"I know it is, slut."

Dean's finger feels wetter this time, hotter. And Sam's not expecting his brother to push in so deep, his eyes rolling back in pleasure when Dean barely grazes his prostate, clearly torturing Sam for all the shit he'd put him through that day. An eye for an eye was most definitely the Winchester way.

"You want me to finger fuck this tight little pussy until you make a mess all over your cute panties, don't ya baby boy?"

"Yes! Fuck Dean please." Sam isn't even trying to hold back his sobs now, big salty tears rolling down his cheeks as he wiggles around in Dean's lap. Desperate for his big brother to fuck him deeper. But before he can get the leverage he needs, Sam's empty again, mouth hanging open as Dean's next blow makes his whole body rock forward involuntary, neglected cock throbbing painfully against the worn denim of his brother's jeans.

"I'll give you want you want, Sammy," Dean coos, caressing Sam's battered skin with his palm. "I always do. But first, I'm gonna teach you a lesson about acting like a brat."

Of course, Sam's been taught this lesson before and it hasn't seemed to stick. But it doesn't matter, because they both know as long as Sam craves his big brother's attention, Dean will gladly put him in his place give it to him.

[pleasejustfuckinghugme]

Forever

episode one pt. two (word count: 2,333)

jacobs!oc x fezco

warnings: mentions of abuse and attempted rape, crude language, drugs, alcohol, sexual themes

Nancy and I had been best friends since freshman year after her brother tried to finger me at the freshman formal. After she saw me running to the ladies room and heard her brother dick around with his friends, she knew something was wrong. She ran to the bathroom and refused to leave me alone for the rest of the night, eyeing her twin at all times. Later that night, she confronted him about it when they got back home, and he slapped her across the face. They didn’t acknowledge each other for an entire month after that. Nate eventually apologized. It was a shitty apology, but Nancy was nice. And way too forgiving. 

Then Nancy met Maddy after she and Nate started dating, and they became best friends. They pretty much told each other everything, so when Maddy found out about Nate hitting Nancy, she was furious. Nancy refused to let her do anything; she knew that if Maddy confronted him he would do the same thing to her. They promised they would always be there for each other instead, and so far, they had managed to keep that promise.

“Bitch, you’re coming,” Maddy scolded her from across the room. Nancy was sitting on her bed, watching as Maddy applied glitter to her eyelids. 

The girl flinched as Maddy stood up, throwing her eyeliner at her.

“Nate won’t be happy.”

“He’s not your fucking dad, so it doesn’t matter,” Maddy argued. “And this way you’ll meet the rest of the cheer team before school starts.”

“Fine,” Nancy sighed as she began to apply her eyeliner.

“Honestly, I think Nancy’s gonna catch the most dick tonight. She look hot as fuck,” BB snorted, taking a breath of her vape. 

“Yeah right,” Nancy scoffed. “If I did, it would only because Maddy’s letting me borrow her dress.” She winked at her friend through the mirror, but Maddy didn’t see as she was too preoccupied looking at her boobs.

“Do you think my areolas look weird?” she asked, turning to look at Kat and Nancy.

“No,” Kat returned, scrolling on her phone. Nancy said nothing as she chewed her bottom lip, concentrating on winging her liner.

“But, like, the edges though,” Maddy pressed.

Kat finally looked up at the girl, “Maddy, they’re fine.”

Maddy narrowed her eyes at the girl, “Fine like they’re kind of weird, or fine like nobody would ever notice what I notice?”

“Fine like shut the fuck up, Maddy,” BB called from the bathroom.

“Your boobs are wonderful,” Nancy reassured. She stood up from the bed and started slipping on her black a-line dress.

“I’m disgusting. I literally look disgusting,” Maddy rambled, looking at herself in the mirror.”

“Maddy, you need to snap the fuck out of this. You’re hot as fuck. Nate’s a loser! Who cares?” Kat whined.

Nancy plopped down next to her on the bed, grunting in agreement. “Exactly, that’s why we should just skip the whole thing.”

Maddy rolled her eyes and faced them, “No, Nancy. Besides he’s not a loser, he’s a dick.”

Nancy scoffed as Kat mumbled, “All dicks are losers, duh.”

“Look, bottom line. Y’all need to walk into this party like your pussy costs a million dollars,” BB slurred walking to Maddy’s closet.

Nancy shifted awkwardly on the bed as Maddy replied, “I’d probably settle for, like, fifty grand.”

“Fifty grand is a million dollars.”

“I’d settle for, like, four Corona Lites and some non-rapey affection,” Kat muttered. Nancy pushed her shoulder playfully as BB cringed, “That’s kind of depressing.”

“Nate just, like, totally ruins my confidence,” Maddy huffed. “You know when somebody just constantly criticizes, like, everything about you?” 

This prompted Nancy to go over to the girl, giving her a small, comforting hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Yep, that’s like every guy,” BB assured.

“You just need to catch a dick and forget about your troubles,” Kat affirmed, causing Maddy to whip around as Nancy giggled.

“Girl, you just need to catch a dick,” she accused. She lightly smacked Nancy on her cheeks. “And you’re no better either, bitch.”

Nancy rolled her eyes and flicked Maddy’s forehead. “Shut up,” she scoffed, laughing.

“Seriously, Maddy. The best thing to do after a break up is to fuck someone new and then move on.”

“Please, Kat, remind me again how many guys you fucked, and um, oh yeah, catfishing, that don’t count,” BB accused, waving the girl off. Hurt flashed in Kat’s eyes as she returned to applying her mascara.

“BB,” Nancy warned.

Maddy faced BB, scowling. “Can you not be a cunt for like fifteen seconds?” she shot, defending the girl.

A knock interrupted their conversation. The door to Maddy’s room opened and her dad began to speak.

“Dad! Stop being a pervert! We’re literally, like, all naked!” Maddy squealed. The door promptly shut again, and the four girls looked at each other before breaking out into laughter.

The small town seemed to come alive at night. Red, green, and pasty yellow lights reflected through Maddy’s car as the four girls rode to McKay’s. Nancy laid her head on the window, watching neon lights streak past as the car glided down the road. Further ahead of the car, the reflection of a golden jacket caught her eyes. Squinting, she looked at the figure walking down the road. It was a girl with long, frizzy brown hair, her caramel skin glowed under the street lights. Suddenly, realization struck her.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, jerking her head up.

“Is that?” Maddy trailed off, slowing her car down to a stop.

“Oh shit! That’s Rue!” BB gasped, taking a hit of her vape.

“Didn’t Rue, like, die?” Maddy quizzed, causing Nancy to lightly punch her shoulders, scolding her, “Don’t say that shit, Maddy.”

BB leaned back in her seat, “Oh my god, I hate ghosts.”

When the car was close enough to the girl, Nancy and Kat both stuck their heads out the window.

Nancy called out her name as Kat hollered, “Ayo, Casper!”

Rue turned towards the car.

“Wanna ride?” Kat winked.

Rue sauntered over to the car and leaned in close to Kat. A smile crept across her lips as she nodded, “Why, thank you.”

Nancy whooped in approval and swung her door open. “Bitch!” she proclaimed wrapping her arms around the tipsy teenager. Rue smiled sloppily and scooted into the car next to Nancy.

As they continued their trek to the party, Nancy thought about everything she wanted to ask Rue. How was she? How was rehab? Was her family okay? Was she okay? But she didn’t ask any of these things. Rue was already drunk; her stumbling down the road and glassy eyes made that obvious. And Nancy knew Rue well enough that if Rue was drunk and headed to a party that meant two things: rehab was not working and Rue was definitely going down a spiral. Nancy looked at her old friend, who sat staring out the window, rolling her eyes at the conversation between Kat and Maddy in front of her.

She reached her arm over and brought Rue into another embrace, “I missed you, you know?”

Rue squeezed her shoulders and gave her a tight smile, “I missed you too.”

“Maybe we can hang out sometime this week? Catch up?”

Rue’s eyes grew at the question. A hint of happiness shown through her orbs. “Yeah, I’d like that,” she grinned.

When they pulled up to the party, the whole front yard was already filled with drunk students. Red solo cups flew around the air, and the stench of alcohol and weed was almost suffocating as they walked into the house. Nancy made her way to the kitchen with her girls, and they all grabbed some beer before making their way to the living room.

Now, we all know that this night got fucking weird. So now that the four girls were all completely wasted, it was time for them to take their newfound, drunken confidence and use it to unwillingly embarrass themselves. However, luckily for Nancy, her drunk alter ego did her some favors, and while Maddy was busying herself with getting back at Nate, Kat was losing her virginity, and BB was out doing God knows what, Nancy found herself strutting towards the cute boy from that same morning. You know, the one who sold her drugs.

“Fancy seeing you again,” she jested, plopping down beside him on the couch. She kicked her feet up onto the table in front of them, showing off her Doc Martens.

“Hey, kid,” Fezco spoke, sitting up on the couch. “Shit, you come to these parties? I ain’t ever seen ya around before.”

“My first real party,” Nancy snorted, putting up jazz hands, making the man chuckle quietly.

“Word,” he affirmed. “That’s what’s up. How’s it been so far?” His eyes never left hers.

She smiled at his question, her eyes sparkling. “Fucking great,” she gushed. “I had like five shots and some beers and danced for hours.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Good for you, kid. Jus’ stay away from those drugs, right?”

She saluted and echoed his words, “Aye, staying away from drugs.”

She watched as he took a drag of the roll tucked between his fingers. He closed his eyes and leaned back as he puffed the smoke out. Slowly, he turned back to look at her, and she met his eyes, a small smile growing on her face.

However, the serenity between the two at that moment was shortcoming as Nancy began to feel her insides twist inside her. The alcohol was starting to catch up, and the hazy, relaxed feeling in her head began to turn into a throbbing sensation. She jerked up from the couch, startling the man as she ran to find the closest bathroom. She ducked around people, running into some before she finally reached the toilet, whipping the door open. Chunky liquid left her system, and the awkward feeling of throwing up, along with the horrid stench, caused her eyes to prickle with tears.

She was startled when she felt someone pull her hair back for her, placing their other hand on her back. The palm rubbed circles as the person spoke, “Shit, kid. You drank way too much.”

When she was finally finished ridding the toxins from her body, she leaned back from the toilet. Fezco handed her some toilet paper, and she wiped off her mouth. Her makeup was totally ruined, black streaks running down her cheeks and lipstick smudged.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout me. You good?” he rubbed her back, watching her closely. She refused to look at him, too embarrassed.

“I will be. Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled warmly at her. “Never caught ya name.”

“Nancy,” she answered, finally meeting his gaze. He was smiling at her, but it wasn’t an amused smile. It was something else.

“Right. I think I heard Nate mention you before.”

“Shit,” she muttered. “He’s gonna fucking murder me if he sees me like this.”

She began to stand up, but lost her balance. Fezco chuckled, steadying her. “You betta’ slow down. I think he’ll survive. He ain’t ya dad.”

She thinly smiled, nodding. “Right.” She laughed dryly and he gave her a questioning look. “Fuck, this is, like, really embarrassing,” she confessed.

He shook his head, “Kid, I’m so fuckin’ high who knows if I’ll remember this.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Thank you, really.” They looked at each other quietly for a moment, eyes locked together. Nancy could feel her stomach starting to turn again, but something was different about it this time. There was more of a fluttering rather than her organs getting flipped around. She looked away, stuttering, “I should probably go home.”

Fezco nodded, “Alright. I’ll see ya around, kid.”

She let out a soft okay before turning to find Maddy in the crowd. But she ran into her brother first.

“The fuck you doing here? What happened?” Nate bellowed, looking down at her. Her hair was a frizzy mess and one of her spaghetti straps had fallen off her shoulder. Her eyes were puffy when she looked up at him. 

“Shut up,” she scowled at him. “Have you seen Maddy?”

He turned around, looking past the back window into the pool. Nancy leaned over to see around him and saw Maddy in the pool with another boy. She turned back to her twin, hesitantly grabbing his forearm to get his attention. 

“Can we just go home?” she croaked. He looked down at her, not saying anything for a moment, before slowly nodding his head.

“Come on,” he grunted, leading her out the house and to his car.

When they got home, Nate walked around the truck and opened the door for her, helping her as she stumbled out of the car.

“Can you at least look like you can fucking walk before dad sees you? Jesus,” he grumbled, helping her walk to the door.

When they got inside she pulled away, stumbling up the stairs. She whispered a goodnight to him before staggering into her room and on her bed. She groggily kicked off her shoes before pulling her comforter up. Her head was throbbing, and her eyes felt heavy as she laid on her bed, sending a quick text to Maddy letting her know she went back home.

She heard her door creak open.

“Goodnight, kiddo. You need anything?” she heard her dad whisper from across the room. She looked over at him. He was peeking his head through her door, looking at her with kind eyes. 

“Can I get some water?” she yawned. “And some Tylenol?”

She heard him chuckle, “Sure thing, kid.”

When he came back and handed her the pills she swallowed them and chugged the bottled water before plopping her head back on her pillows. She felt her father gave her a quick peck on the forehead, whispering goodnight, before sleep engulfed her.

[fairfowl]

Niceties Like Coffins (I'll Make You a Cup of Tea)

Of the six of them, Five and Klaus were the ones who had never really had the chance to grieve for Ben. Klaus seeks solace in the tangible, Five resolves that he will never be like Reginald. Five is the kind of man who will do anything for his siblings

The door to Ben’s room had been closed for the entire first week that Five had spent in 2019. It had been a small detail. Something that he hadn’t pursued, too preoccupied with attempting to literally save the world.

After their return it had remained so. The door remained tightly shut and blended into the hallway as if there had never been another child who had lived and breathed and grown with the rest of them. The small gap between the bottom of the door and the hardwood floor of the hallway had a layer of dust that even Grace had never disturbed. 

It irked Five slightly.

Upon his return he’d gone back to his childhood bedroom to find it immaculately clean. The books and papers that he’d left were mostly undisturbed, but it was clear that he had not been the last person in that bedroom.

Why would Ben’s room have been left undisturbed but not Five’s? 

So when he passed by the door to Ben’s room on the evening of April 5th 2019 and found that it was open Five’s curiosity was piqued. 

What could he do but look inside? 

If only to learn why the room had been opened for the first time in so many years.

Five had not been present for Ben’s death (neither the first nor the second). It was something that he had found himself regretting in the past few slow solemn days. Prior to their return on the second of April he simply hadn’t had time to dwell, but it hadn’t stopped him from missing his brother. 

When they had been children he and Five had gotten along well, and Five wondered if his gambit to stop the apocalypse would have gone smoother if Ben had been with them.

But he had been with them.

And Five had been careless enough to let that fact slip through his fingers. He’d squandered both a potentially valuable asset as well as his final chance to see the one sibling that he just could not save.

Now it was too late. 

The door, which had, in truth, been cracked more than truly open, creaked on its hinges as Five pushed past. It was likely the only door in the house with creaking hinges. Five was beginning to suspect that Reginald had for some reason seen fit to ban Grace from acknowledging the room’s existence altogether. He was not prepared for the spike of sadness that ran through his chest at the thought. 

The room’s interior was dark. A waning sunset filtered in through heavy gray curtains, illuminating shelves upon shelves of books with colorful paperback colors—Five guessed that they were mostly fiction, his brother had always enjoyed adventures and had been working through a pile of classics when Five had disappeared. 

While the two of them had both been readers they’d always had vastly different taste. 

There had been a time when they’d both liked sci-fi.

Five remembered passing a copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea back and forth under their school desks, each taking a turn reading a chapter before moving on, reading the notes they’d scribbled to each other in the margins.

He wondered what had become of that copy.

Something suddenly moved on the bed and Five immediately tensed, shifting into a fighting stance before his eyes had the chance to communicate with his brain. The dim light threw the entire room into shadow and the bed might as well have been a gaping hole into the void for all that Five could make out it’s features.

But the void was breathing. 

Over the sound of his heartbeat Five could hear it.

Warily he approached. 

As he moved closer Five’s eyes adjusted and he recognized Klaus’ gangly form sprawled ungracefully across the still-covered bed. His arms were wrapped around the pillow and his head thrown back exposing his pale neck in an uncomfortably vulnerable position. 

Five paused, still wary, if for a different reason. 

He’d barely spoken to Klaus. Not since that one afternoon just under two weeks ago when he’d coerced his brother into putting on one of Reginald’s suits and attempting to gather information from Meritech. 

It was another just thing that he hadn’t had time to pursue yet, another thing that had slipped away from him. 

They might as well have been strangers. He’d disappeared when they were thirteen, reappeared seventeen years later, and then Klaus had lived at least three—possibly four—more years more without seeing Five or anyone else in the family. 

They’d grown up together but that was a lifetime of trauma away from both of their perspectives.

Five heaved a sigh and stared at his brother on the bed.

In a way it made sense that both of them were here. Of all the living siblings Five and Klaus were the only ones who had never really mourned Ben before. 

Five because he’d only read about it well after the fact in Vanya’s book, months after burying siblings one through four. Even as a scared traumatized child he’d known better to hope that Ben had somehow survived the apocalypse, so when he found out that he had died just three years after Five had disappeared it had been a surprise, but not enough to really shock his already numb psyche.  

Klaus because despite the fact that he had been present at the time of Ben’s death his brother had never really left him. 

Five could only speculate how constant Ben’s presence had been in Klaus’s life, but it was apparent that Ben had haunted Klaus for longer than he’d actually been alive. If he’d been present from when they were sixteen until six days ago when Klaus had attempted to fight his way towards Vanya then Ben's ghost had followed Klaus for a not insignificant seventeen years. 

So Klaus was grieving. 

Which would partially explain why he was curled up on top of Ben's long-neglected bed with tear traces running down his pale face. 

Five nearly turned away and left Klaus to grieve in peace. He had never been comfortable dealing with emotions, be they be someone else's or his own. But as he began to turn Klaus's breath hitched. 

Where previously it had been rasping but slow, the sound picked up into sharp gasps as Klaus’ limbs shifted on the bed. 

He wasn’t awake—not yet. It was probably just a nightmare.

Five could still walk away. 

But the tear tracks of Klaus’ cheeks were still wet and his brother looked so devastated. How could he leave one of his siblings in such pain when there was something that he could do to help? Even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone? 

Five had killed plenty of people in their sleep. He had never awoken someone who was having a nightmare before. 

Less than four feet in front of him Klaus had begun to sob in his sleep.

Enough was enough. 

“Klaus.” He spoke at normal volume, without inflection. Five wasn’t even sure if he could summon a gentle tone if he’d wanted to. On the bed Klaus began to mutter, just as lost to the waking world as he had been thirty seconds ago.

“Where are you?” It was hard to understand what Klaus was saying (slurring really) through the sleep and the tears but a few words came out clearly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Klaus you need to wake up.” Five stepped closer, hoping wildly that Klaus would somehow sense his proximity and wake on his own. It was dangerous to lose yourself in unconsciousness as most people did, and Five had learned long ago that he was safest as a light sleeper. 

Klaus made a sound like a wounded animal and twisted on the bed. One of his long knobby legs kicked out and then hung off of the edge of the mattress, his sweat mixed with tears as his breaths came in quick gasps. 

Something ugly curled in Fives, chest. It made his own breath quicken and his hands twitch. Inside his body Five’s adrenal glands tried to prompt him into action but it was not the time for fight or flight no matter what his instincts told him. 

Instead he reached out and grasped Klaus’s shoulder, giving it a hard shake. 

“Klaus, wake up!” 

And Klaus awoke. Wild eyes opened and flitted across the room frantically as Klaus shot into a sitting position, gasping for breath. His gasp immediately turned into a hacking cough, which in turn became a fit. 

Five took a step back, in part to allow Klaus to get his bearings, but also partially to avoid being coughed on. Gross. 

He didn't like the way that his brother hunched in on himself. 

It felt wrong to see him make himself small. 

Klaus was always so loud, larger than life and glaringly glitteringly visible. When they’d been children Reginald had obviously loathed Klaus’s need for attention, and repeatedly scolded him for seeking it out until the idea had become ingrained into all of their psyches. 

Everything Klaus did he did for attention. Klaus was not someone to take seriously. Everything was a joke to Klaus. 

Five wasn’t sure if he’d ever really believed any of it, but enough had sunk in for it to become Five’s knee-jerk reaction when he was being careless. He had just spent weeks not taking Klaus seriously. 

“Five?” When had his brother’s voice started to sound so defeated? Under the hoarseness from the cough there was an edge of exhaustion that Five was startled to realize reminded him of himself. 

Five and Klaus had always been polar opposites. 

They weren’t supposed to have anything in common. 

“What are you doing in here?” They said it in tandem, Klaus’s exhausted croak discordant with Five’s sharp too-high voice. 

“The door was open.” Five responded, directing every subtlety of his body language to indicate that his answer was finished, and that he had no plans to elaborate. Instead he tilted his head and waited for Klaus to give his own reason. Far a short absurd moment he felt like an impatient teacher awaiting a response from an inattentive student.

Instead of replying Klaus looked away, his eyes fixing on some point between his head and the wall.  His breaths were still too fast, and still rasping.

“Klaus.” He prompted. “Why are you in here?”

Klaus was so far away that he might as well have still been asleep. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes bright with what Five suspected was a fever, he looked disheveled, unwashed and unmoored. Drifting. 

There had been times when Five had drifted, alone and surrounded by ash. 

Five decided that he would need to touch Klaus again.

He wondered if he would have drifted less, had there been someone around who could touch him when he’d been so alone. 

He resolved his courage and rested a hand on his brother’s shivering shoulder. 

Five was not the sort of man who willingly initiated touch. 

Five was the sort of man who would do anything for his family. 

Klaus did not stop shivering, but his breaths slowed, and Five counted that as a minor victory. 

“I just wanted something.” Klaus said finally, his oft-raucous voice a whisper. “Something to remind me that he was there. I miss him so much Five, I thought it would help.”

From Klaus’s tone Five inferred that it hadn’t helped at all. He began to rub Klaus’s shoulder, ignoring the uncomfortable dampness of his sweat-soaked shirt, and waiting as patiently as he could manage for Klaus to continue.  

“But this isn’t really Ben’s stuff anymore, the Ben I knew hadn’t lived here for twenty years.” Klaus shuddered under his touch. “This is just stuff from when he was a kid.”

There was a desperation to his expression that made the ugly thing in Five’s chest writhe. 

 “There’s really nothing left.” Klaus’s hoarse voice finally cracked and he let out a breathless sob, hunched on top of the neat little twin bed. “I don’t know what to do Five.” 

Five knew grief. 

Grief had followed him like a  shadow throughout most of his life, and no matter what he’d gained back via time travel, pain like that left an indelible mark upon a person’s mind. 

But he was a stranger to the grief of others. 

And grief was such a volatile thing, the sort of trauma that changed people in unexpected, sometimes unpleasant ways. 

He sat beside his brother and wrapped his arm around him, pulling Klaus against his side. The contact was an adrenaline rush, alarming and unfamiliar to his touch-starved brain. Part of him embraced it, lapping at the content like a ravenous animal. Most of him wanted to let go and move away, to reestablish the boundary of personal space that Five had so carefully curated. 

Five held on, steadying Klaus as he shook and coughed and sobbed. 

He was the sort of man who would do anything for his family. 

Eventually Klaus cried himself out. 

Night had long fallen by the time that Klaus sat up, leaning unsteadily against Five. 

“Thank you.” He said, his eyes were downcast as though he had something to be ashamed of. The statement was followed by a wheezing cough.

“Let’s get out of here. I’ve been in tombs less dusty than this.” Five did not miss the way that Klaus flinched at his words but he didn’t understand what part of his sentence could have been upsetting. He filed away the thought to examine later. 

Thankfully Klaus didn’t argue and he let Five pull him into a standing position and lead him into the hallway without a fuss. His brother’s steps were unsteady, wavering. Klaus trailed his free hand against any wall or piece of furniture that he could reach until they made it to the door to his bedroom. Then he balked.

Five looked at him with curiosity and perhaps a hint of impatience. 

Klaus stared at the door as though he was looking into his own coffin. 

Not that he’d had a coffin the first time around. 

Five had barely been able to bury all of them before they started to rot in earnest, he hadn’t had time for niceties like coffins.  

“What now?” Five said, because he was not a patient person by nature.

“I don’t want to be alone right now.” The statement was so candid that Five can’t help but feel a bit bowled over. There’s such an open vulnerability to it, the sort of sentence that would have turned Reginald’s eyes hard and cruel. 

In another world Five might have responded in the same way, it would have been easy to start responding to the emotions of others with disgust. 

He’d never be asked to respond in kind if he gave in and allowed his immediate reaction to be scorn. 

Kindness was infinitely harder. 

Five would do anything for his family. 

He wasn’t Reginald. 

He’s not about to drag Klaus screaming into the dark. 

As a child he’d never questioned where their father was taking Klaus. They all went off to different parts of the property for their individual training sessions, but none of them had screamed the way that Klaus had. They’d all looked hollow and exhausted upon their return, they’d all acquired strange injuries and unexplained phobias. Five hadn’t questioned it. He’d taken it as a fact of life. 

But now standing in front of Klaus’s door, with a hand on his brother’s elbow Five resolves that he will never be like Reginald. 

“Let’s go downstairs then.” He said, voice toneless and commanding in the way he’d learned at the Commission. “I left my composition book by the coffeemaker and I need to finish some equations tonight.”

Klaus turned to look at him, eyes hopeful and fever-bright. 

“Okay.” He said.

“I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

[lynnsfics]

Trick-or-Treat with a Twist

Pairing: Cas x Reader (Gender-neutral pronouns Prompt List #19 “You want to go trick-or-treating? Seriously?”)

Word Count: Approx. 2k

Requests Open! See prompt list (linked above) for details!

~~~

As the day dragged on, you felt yourself growing a bit stir-crazy in the bunker. It was Halloween and noting remotely spooky was even happening. No ghosts or ghouls to be seen. Dean had left to go to a bar, dragging a reluctant Sam behind him. Apparently Halloween was a good night to go pick up a one-night “date”.

You rolled your eyes and sighed in frustration, flipping through the tv channels, nothing even remotely good on. Suddenly an idea popped into your head. “Hey Cas,” you called out, “I had an idea.”

He walked into the room, a confused look on his face. “An idea about what?”

“I’m just about bored out of my mind. There’s nothing to do here and it’s Halloween.”

“What does that have to do with you being bored,” he questioned.

You broke into a smile, “It’s literally the best holiday all year! And so I was thinking,” you paused, embarrassed for a second, but then pressed on, “we should go trick-or-treating.”

He stared at you in confusion for a second before responding, “You want to go trick-or-treating? Seriously?”

Your smile faltered momentarily before you continued, “I mean, if you want to. But it’s so much fun, and you’ve never done it before, so it’d be something new for you to try.”

For a moment he considered it before sighing, “Well,” he said, “I suppose this could be fun.”

A grin spread across your face, “Great! Now to find you a costume.”

The sidewalk was barely lit by flickering street lights overhead, and there was a crisp chill in the air, but you didn’t complain. If anything it just added to the ambiance of the evening. Besides, the moonlight provided more than enough light to see by.

Next to you Cas glanced around, looking a bit uneasy. You had to admit, maybe making him wear a fake halo and wings for his costume was a bit excessive. But you were dressed as a demon, so it just made sense.

“Aren’t people going to question why we’re grown adults collecting candy?”

“If they do, they’re a jerk. But just say you’re collecting candy for a younger sibling who’s sick and can’t go out.”

“Isn’t that a bit-”

You cut him off, “Unethical? Yes. But we also saved the world so in the end it all balances out. Probably.”

As the angel next to you chuckled in response, you couldn’t help to admire the way the moonlight reflected in his piercing blue eyes. No matter how many times you tried to ignore the way you felt about him, it was impossible. A stab of pain went through you as you realized he wouldn’t feel the same way about you. These feelings needed to be gone, otherwise things could go downhill fast.

You were dragged back to the present when you came to the first lit house. A fake skeleton was hanging from the door, and a few bales of hay were set up in the yard. There was a “Please Take One” bowl on the porch and as you approached it, Cas gave you a stern look.

“I know what you’re thinking. Do not take the whole bowl.”

“You’re no fun,” you pouted, but still only grabbed a KitKat before moving on. You grimaced at Cas’ choice in chocolate. “You seriously had your choice of like five different types of chocolate, and you chose a Baby Ruth? Really?”

“It all tastes like molecules to me,” he countered, “but they have a good texture.”

Well, that did make sense, but it didn’t stop you from judging him on it just a little bit. It was at that moment when you felt the familiar sensation of something watching you. You grabbed Cas’ arm and pulled him back towards the sidewalk.

“I think I’ve got some gum stuck to my shoe,” you whispered the code in a low voice, hoping he would pick up on what you meant.

Apparently he did, as he replied, “Would you like to go back to the car to get it off?”

“No, I don’t think it will help my shoes to walk that far.”

He nodded in response before veering off towards a sidestreet. Once you both felt a bit more secluded you asked, “Do you have any weapons with you? Maybe your angel blade?”

“You didn’t bring yourself a weapon,” he questioned accusingly.

Rolling your eyes you responded, “All I have is my dagger, sorry I didn’t expect to be fighting any entities tonight.”

He sighed and handed you the long silver blade he had stashed under the folds of his trenchcoat. “Any idea what’s following us?”

“No, I just got the feeling, and wanted to be sure we were ready. But I know that there’s definitely something out there.”

“What do you think our plan should be? We can’t just stand here and wait for whatever it is to attack.”

“I think the best thing we can do is go back and pretend we don’t know we’re being watched. Before you say anything, I don’t like the idea much either but I don’t see any other way.”

Once again walking down the street, you now cursed the flickering street lights. The once spooky atmosphere was now just a low-visibility potential battleground. The moonlight was now dimmed as impending storm clouds started to fill the sky. You could feel your hunter instincts starting to take over, and you began to flich at every sound. Something told you to try and act more nonchalant but it was difficult. You were usually prepared for fights, and this wasn’t exactly something you had predicted.

On the upside, however, you felt your bag getting heavier at each stop. You’d need to hide all this chocolate from Dean when you got home. If you got home.

For the first time in the evening, Cas seemed to actually be enjoying the Halloween festivities. “I know the circumstances aren’t ideal,” he said, “but I can understand why humans find this so appealing.”

You replied with a smile, feeling a bit more at ease knowing Cas wasn’t worried, “I always loved the idea of Halloween growing up. I wasn’t allowed to celebrate it when I was younger because it was “devil worship”, but as soon as I was on my own I embraced every part of the holiday.”

“I’m glad you were-”

You shushed him as a prickle suddenly went down your spine. “I feel it again. Whatever it is, it’s close.”

He nodded silently as you approached the next lit house. After a quick knock, an elderly woman answered the door, a bowl of chocolates in hand. “Aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating?”

“Well, you see ma’am,” you answered, “my little sister is sick with a cold, so we’re collecting candy for her.”

“If there’s one thing I hate more than hunters,” she hissed, her voice taking on an inhuman quality, “it’s liars.” You felt something cool and sharp press against your back, and your heart clenched. Pulling out the blade Cas had handed you earlier, you launched it back in one swift motion. The monster behind you doubled over and collapsed into dust.

A flash of blinding light told you that Cas had managed to smite the other monster, leaving only the “sweet old lady” standing in front of you. Her skin began to peel back, revealing a young woman who seemed to be in her mid-20s. “Well, it seems you killed my brothers. Pity. But I think you’ll find I won’t be quite as easy to dispose of.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you retorted through clenched teeth. Swinging the bloody angel blade forward, it lodged itself in her stomach but did nothing.

She smirked, but as she did, her face shifted again, “Well then, judge, have you reached your verdict?” At that moment everything clicked. Why you couldn’t find the others even though you could sense them, why the first two died so easily. She was a silent shifter, a newly found sub-grouping of shape shifter than stayed in packs, but had a connected life force. When one died, the others gained their strength.

A quick glance at Castiel told you that he had come to the same conclusion. It would take more than a stab wound to take her down, but luckily there was something that could do the trick.

You made a move to grab for the hilt of the blade but she reacted quickly, latching a strong hand around your wrist. A burning sensation flooded through your arm, but you managed to pull out the angel blade. As you did, the burning spread, and you cried out in pain. You didn’t let that stop you, however, and in one fluid motion, brought the blade to her neck and pushed it through. As the head fell to the ground with a sickening plop, the burning pain overtook you and you collapsed onto the porch in a heap.

Castiel rushed to your side, gently propping you up against the now closed front door. Your brain felt foggy, and you couldn’t quite see straight. On the plus side, you decided, the burning had receded.

“Please be alright,” he silently pleaded, hands trembling. Momentarily, you squeezed your eyes shut, and when you reopened them the world was back in focus. Cas breathed a sigh of relief as you cussed under your breath,

The question slipped from your lips before you could even process it, “What just happened?”

“I,” he paused, unsure of whether to be straightforward in his response or to sugar-coat it, “I honestly do not know. But you seem to be doing better now, so I suggest we head back to the bunker.”

Something about his demeanor was off as you walked back, and you tried to ignore it, but eventually the stiff silence caused your feelings to spill over the edge. “What the hell is going on with you, Cas? First you seem overly concerned and the next minute you don’t seem to care what happens to me.” Thunder boomed from overhead as the last words tumbled out, the perfect accompaniment to your sudden outburst.

“You could have died back there, do you realize that? All because we weren’t prepared. Because I agreed to go on this little ‘adventure’ with you. I could have lost you-” He stopped speaking abruptly as a look flashed across his face, an emotion that was gone as soon as it came. But you recognized it well. Regret.

Droplets of water began to sprinkle down from the heavens as you replied. “Cas, what,” you paused, trying to interpret his message in a million different ways, but always drawing the same conclusion. “What are you trying to say?”

He glanced down, unsure of how to express how he truly felt. “I thought I lost you today, and that terrified me. It made me realize what I’ve felt all this time, and I can’t keep it to myself any longer. I love you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I just needed to tell you.”

You blinked, unsure if this was real or all just a dream. Stepping towards him, the words came naturally, “All this time, I thought my feelings were one-sided. Cas, I love you too.” And in that moment he closed the remaining distance between you, and your lips met. Fireworks exploded in your mind as the rain cascaded down around you. You smiled into the kiss, and you knew that this year, Halloween may have brought you some tricks, but it also brought you a very sweet treat.

~~~

Hey everyone! This fic was requested anonymously, and is actually the first spn fic I’ve ever written, so sorry if it’s a bit OOC. If you’d like to request a fic, make sure to click the link in the description for more details! As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated and let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list! Love you all <3

[prettywordsyouleft]

Spiritual Connection - Part 5 (Final)

Summary: Ever since you were a child, you had known the five men who lived in your Grandmother’s house. What you weren’t expecting upon returning as an adult was that they would still be there - and look exactly the same.

Pairing: Brian Kang / DAY6 x reader

Genre: ghost au / fluff / romance

Warnings: none

Spiritual Connection will be posted daily at 10am NZST.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

The launch of your business was a steady success. Word got around from your friends about your little idyllic stay by the ocean and soon your bookings were full for the foreseeable future. Everyone loved the homey vibe that you had maintained within the manor house, the relaxation that came with it and the stories they could learn whilst they stayed. You soon became a hub of tales far beyond your time on this earth, repeating things said by those who surrounded you. Their portraits were around the home, along with your family over the generations and there had even been a couple of times where guests had told you they felt comforted by them.

As if they had met them during their stay.

Of course, you could only but smile and say maybe they had, whilst trying not to giggle at how happy Wonpil was to be noticed for leaving flowers in their rooms or Jae’s guitar being picked up on at night. Their hesitance about turning their home into a bed and breakfast was gone.

Much like your own towards your feelings for Brian.

It had taken some time for either of you to move passed the fleeting moments or the hushed conversations during late night meetings in the kitchen. As your confidence grew within your business, you felt bolder to step away from the what-ifs that had grappled your mind from seeking out what your heart wanted.

Even Sungjin’s concern couldn’t prevent you from experiencing what he once had.

“I’m going to count to ten, and then when I’m done, I’m going to find you,” you announced as you entered the study, Brian looking up from the journal he was writing within. Snapping the book closed, he frowned up at you, taking off his glasses with a chuckle.

“Y/N, aren’t we a bit old to be playing hide and seek?”

You arched a challenging eyebrow in his direction. “Should we really discuss age?”

“Fine, but I know all the best hiding places within this house, remember.”

You let him place away his book in the shelf before he walked out of the room. Covering your eyes and counting loudly, you did as you had set out to do, turning on your heel and going about the house. You opened doors and you slipped through gaps looking for the man, the smile never leaving your lips despite your aloud protests.

You knew where Brian was the whole time.

When you finally decided to give up the chase, you pulled down the ladder to the attic, climbing up the stairs and heaved yourself up into highest part of the house. You made your way around the stack of boxes to find him sitting there, now smiling up at you.

“Oh no, you found me after all.”

“It did take me some time, but I told you, I would find you.”

He opened up his arms and you moved into them, sitting down at the same time. For an immeasurable moment, neither of you spoke. You enjoyed the embrace, the comfort he always gave you. Even with the thumping in your heart that was new, Brian felt like a home you never wanted to leave. You were determined you wouldn’t either.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured and you looked at him, smiling tenderly. “I had my doubts in the beginning. I was also rather protective. This house holds a lot of memories for us all. I was worried if the door was left open, they would be swept out with the toil and fro. Yet, it works. The weekends are hectic, but then the week feels just like it used to.”

“Even when we have guests stay on for the week, I’m surprised it works so well. Hiring Sarah to help during the busiest periods sure has been a good choice too. Even if she doesn’t understand who’s leaving her flowers all the time.”

“Wonpil says she’s the best flower out of them all,” he replied with a laugh and you joined in as well. Brian then took a breath, resting his head against yours. “You are better than any flower.”

“I’d like to hope so,” you teased, nestling into him further.

“Can we stay like this?”

“Well, for now, yes. But I do have to go prepare for tomorrow’s guests at some point.”

“No, I mean, us. Like this,” he repeated, emphasising some of his words that you pulled away from his shoulder where you had been residing to look up at him.

“I found you, remember?”

“In a game of hide and seek?”

“In this crazy world,” you corrected with a nod, placing your hands on either side of his face. You stared at Brian for some time, your smile growing the longer you did so. He was grinning back at you when you let him go. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m not prepared to lose you again. I missed you when I was away.”

“Not as much as I missed you. It’s weird; I was once your friend-”

“And you still are.”

Brian gave you a warning look for your interruption. “When you were little, you would cling to me like this, and I would nurture you, wanting to be the one who protected you. I always felt like a big brother to you.”

“Well, I was eight the last time we were both up here together, I don’t think it was the best practice for you to consider me as anything but a kid back then.”

“In any other situation, this would be unfathomable,” he told you and you giggled.

“In many, it probably still is.”

“Don’t you worry about it?”

You shook your head. “Why worry about something that’s not even happened yet.”

Brian inched closer then and you gasped a little, surprised by how fast he was moving. You had waited for this moment, the time where whatever these feelings were, love or lust, you hadn’t quite defined them yet. But now that it was happening, you were flustered and he could tell, stopping short before your lips.

He smiled. “Not up here. Who wants their first kiss in a dusty attic?”

You were positively blushing from the experience and without much more thought, you jerked back from him, trying to think of something to say. “Count to ten and then come find me.”

“We’re back to this, already? Y/N, is this truly how it’s going-”

You rushed forward, pressing your lips against Brian’s briefly before scrambling to your feet, dashing towards the exit and down the stairs. It took him some time to start counting, but somehow he managed to, and you focused on finding a place to hide within.

You ended up back where you found him before, pressing yourself against the wall behind the large curtains that draped to the floor. There was ample room behind here even as an adult and you held your breath for as long as you could, waiting for your heartbeat to slow down.

You couldn’t believe you had actually kissed Brian just now.

The door opened and you closed your eyes, as if that would assist you in blending in further. You tried to remain still, and you cursed your ever thumping heart for not quietening any. You worried it would be heard a mile away.

The curtain eventually shifted, only enough to allow Brian to join you behind it, and he stared down at you with the most intense expression you had ever witnessed on his face. You were certain you had stopped breathing altogether, lost in the way he gazed at you.

You knew it was love then, and even if it was unfathomable, you couldn’t help but love him entirely.

“Found you,” he finally whispered, arms slipping around you, drawing you close. You pressed your hands to his chest and looked up into his eyes. Brian groaned. “If only my heart was able to beat right now. I’m sure it would be louder than yours is.”

“It won’t settle down,” you whispered back and he smiled, brushing your hair away from your face. “I wished for it to do that but-”

“Why let it? I told you, I didn’t want our first kiss up in a dusty attic,” he stated before his lips met yours, passion flowing between you both.

If you had stepped into the study any earlier before your game, you would have seen the words, today is the day scrawled onto the page by the man who was now kissing you as if your life depended on it.

And it really did. Whilst he didn’t need any air to breathe, you certainly did, going to the point of dizzying euphoria before pulling back, sucking in deep breaths of air.

When recovered, you shook your head dramatically. “And you thought kissing behind a curtain would be any better?”

“Well, I’ll make it a habit to kiss you out in the open, shall I?” he mused, eyes now as wicked as his dishevelled appearance. You couldn’t help but feel excited at the reckless prospect, though, you didn’t get much chance to revel in the moment.

“I told you they were in here up to no good,” Jae announced and you squeaked, smacking your forehead into Brian’s chin in fright.

The curtain shifted aside and you found four others all staring at you. Wonpil was aghast, whilst Jae was satisfied, smirking in triumph at being right. Sungjin seemed worried, though he was smiling all the same, and Dowoon was scratching the back of his head.

“Why would they be up to no good together? What are you talking about?”

“Dowoon, are you seriously that blind?” Sungjin wondered and the tallest shrugged.

“I’m able to see perfectly, but I don’t get what you are all talking about.”

“They were kissing!” Wonpil told him with a shake of his head and Dowoon screeched with surprise.

“I called this happening years ago.”

“Jae, it’s not even been a year since Y/N has been back, you can’t call anything,” Sungjin commented, shunting the man towards the exit.

“There were budding signs long ago, we should have been more aware.”

“Stop it, my brain can’t handle this. Y/N and Brian are a couple! Are we going to be in trouble again like last time?”

“We were never in trouble, Sungjin just decided-”

“It’s a different world now,” Sungjin cut in, ushering everyone out and closing the door behind them.

You stared up at Brian, stunned. And then you began to laugh. He copied your reaction, holding onto you as the amusement travelled its course.

“Well, I guess we will have to be a little more discreet until everyone is okay with this.”

You nodded. “Maybe kissing back here isn’t such a bad idea.”

“Oh really,” Brian replied, eying up your lips with renewed interest.

So, you had fallen in love for the second time in your life. The first time had been with this home. The connection to your grandmother, the opportunity to write new tales to share among the old. You didn’t think you could live life any greater. This place had truly captivated you.

As had Brian.

You were curious and hopeful for the future. The unknown didn’t scare you nearly as much as it once had, but then again, living with five ghosts kind of helped you from scaring easy.

The one thing you knew for certain was that you finally had a home you wished to live in forever – haunted and all.

_________________

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[honeymoonjin]

bangtan baby - ot7 x reader (kind of)

This is basically a little headcanon that I came up with, where the reader dates Hoseok’s sister, and they get him to be a surrogate sperm donor and the whole of bts basically become dads. For all your soft fluff needs xx it’s like 6.4k so settle in and grab some popcorn

• Ok so

• Congratulations ur gay (in this headcanon at least)

• And you meet this beautiful girl, Da Won, and immediately fall in love

• She’s funny, she’s gorgeous, she’s kind and thoughtful, and most miraculously, she’s into you too

• The two of you start dating kind of in secret, unsure how your friends and loved ones would take to a same-sex couple

• But after a while da won wants you two to be able to be like any other couple, and so she asks if you can start telling people

• The first person she wants to tell is her brother

• Jung hoseok

• You’ve met him before a couple times when da won introduced you as a friend, and you think he’s a really decent guy

• While he has a break in scheduling, he comes over to da won’s house (the one you’re currently halfway through moving into) and she tells him

• Hoseok is immediately far more concerned that his big sister is dating than the fact that it’s another woman

• But he then realizes it means he doesn’t have to worry about her being with guys he doesn’t approve of

• He seems really touched that he’s the first person you’ve told, and he’s really happy for you two

• Over time, the two of you tell more and more people – friends, family

• The occasional few ghost you afterwards, not being able to get past it, but for the most part everyone is pretty accepting

• You’re now fully moved in with your girlfriend and both of you are feeling the joy of domestic bliss

• You giving her back hugs in the morning when she’s gotten up early to make breakfast

• Sharing a dessert at restaurants

• Waking up next to her is the best thing in the world

• You share your first ‘I love you’s on your one-year anniversary, and on your second anniversary da won proposes to you over a homemade candlelit dinner (okay so she got jin to make it and drop it off that afternoon but technically it’s still homemade)

• Rather than telling the boys, you two just go along to the filming of their next music video and hang around on set, wondering how long it takes each member to notice

• Hoseok and you have gotten pretty sibling-like, but out of the guys it’s tae who you’re closest with

• And it’s him who is the first to notice

• He bounds over to give you a big hug when you first arrive, with a big grin on his face, and when you start chatting, he automatically grabs on to your hand to swing them back and forth between you like he usually does, only to get scratched by the freshly cut metal prongs holding the modest diamond onto the ring

• He gasps dramatically, covering his mouth in shock, and you have to quickly whisk him away into a make-up trailer so that he doesn’t give it away to the other members

• You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so happy and he’s not even the one getting married

• Of course he doesn’t tear up a little that would be ridiculous

• You tell him that the two of you are seeing who takes the longest to notice, and he reluctantly promises to keep his freaking out on the down low

• The next person to notice is jin, who apparently got a little suspicious when da won all of a sudden asked for food on your anniversary

• He’s still in his make-up chair and he glances down to your joint hands, seeing the glint of the metal and jerks his head towards you fully

• The make-up stylist just sighs and grabs a wipe to clean off the stripe of mascara that got streaked across his face

• Da won quickly holds up a finger to shush him, and he grins cheekily, motioning to zip his lips shut

• Surprisingly, Jungkook is third

• He’s a romantic at heart, and you know that he really admires the relationship you and da won have

• None of the boys have been able to publicly date yet, which just meant that they couldn’t risk dating at all, and you had caught him countless times watching you two wistfully

• It’s one such time when he notices

• Da won read somewhere about how to read the lines on your palm, and jokingly is trying to work out how many kids you’ll have

• You sit, palm out, staring at her lovingly as she sticks her tongue out slightly and focuses, tracing lines along your skin, and then hear a weird strangled noise

• You glance up and see Jungkook, mouth and eyes wide, staring at the ring on your finger, then back up at you two

• He’s antsy waiting for his hair to be finished, and once it does, he practically skips over, whispering excitedly, “really? Really?”

• You quickly let him look at the ring, making sure nobody else is watching, and his head tips to the side as he smiles softly

• Da won lets him know what your plan is, as well as who had seen it so far, and Jungkook can’t help but laugh out loud that hoseok hasn’t even realized yet

• He scampers away happily, finding hoseok and loitering around smugly as da won’s brother chats away with jin, who’s almost finished in the chair after that mishap

• It’s literally over three hours before anyone else notices

• Oblivious line is the new line and it consists of hoseok, namjoon, yoongi and jimin

• It’s lunchtime and you’re sitting with tae and yoongi while the rest are all still in line at the buffet

• Taehyung has been bouncy as a puppy all day, and yoongi keeps asking him why, but true to his word, tae won’t tell him a thing

• You tune out of the conversation a little and watch da won joking around with hobi

• They look so alike, and have a lot of the same mannerisms, but even aside from that anyone can see how close they are

• Da won catches you staring and gives you a cute little wave

• You smile and wave back

• When you look away and return to the table, you realize it’s fallen silent

• Yoongi is still chewing away with bulging cheeks, but he’s waving his chopsticks at your still-raised hand

• You realize you’d waved with your left hand and blatantly showed off the ring

• Once he finally swallows his large mouthful, yoongi clears his throat and stares at you

• “please don’t tell me that’s been there this whole time”

• You stare at him, not cracking a smile, “yoongi, we got engaged last June. Have you seriously never noticed?”

• His eyes widen and his mouth drops into a confused pout, “fuck, really? Man, I need a nap”

• You reach over and punch his shoulder playfully “I’m just messing with you, da won proposed last night. Did still take you this long, though”

• He lets out a relieved sigh, then fixes you with a serious look, waving his chopsticks at you again, “I have only one thing to say. Make sure hobi pays for your wedding, I can assure you he has the money. And don’t let him make it cheap, either. I’m talking one million won bar tab, those fancy fabric napkins that they make look like a swan, maybe some doves.”

• You chuckle, “okay, thanks a lot for your words of wisdom”

• Yoongi gives you a small smile, loads up a lettuce wrap and mumbles a quick ‘congratulations’ before shoving it into his mouth in one go

• Cut to the end of filming, and you’re pretty sure the final three will never realize unless you tell them

• So you get da won’s permission to start being a little more obvious, upping the stakes

• Jin suggests you all go out to dinner and celebrate the end of shooting (6 of you know what you’re really celebrating)

• You sit with da won on one side and jimin on the other

• “oh, chimmy, what’s the fabric your jacket is made of? I love it”

• Cute you running your hands over the satiny material around his cuff

• He looks down at it, holding his arm up so you can better reach it

• “oh, it’s silk I thi- oh!”

• Da won collapses into laughter at the look of surprise on his face

• You grin and let him hold your hand as he fiddles with the ring, inspecting it with wonder

• You look up around the table, hoping that jimin’s outburst has attracted some attention, but namjoon and hoseok are deeply entranced in something on namjoon’s phone, discussing whatever it is with full focus

• Jin rolls his eyes and ‘accidentally’ knocks namjoon’s elbow causing him to drop his phone under the table, skidding across to perfectly land in front of your shoes

• “oh, allow me” you announce loudly and stretch down to pick it up

• You pass it over with your left hand, ring up

• “oh, thanks, y/n”

• Jungkook groans and lets his head bang against the table, “are you fucking serious?”

• “it wasn’t my fault I dropped it! Jin pushed me and-”

• “y/n and I are getting married!”

• Namjoon and hoseok freeze

• Da won sighs and repeats herself. “I cannot believe you guys. How more obvious can we be?”

• Namjoon and hoseok share a look, dumbfounded, then both break out into proud beams

• Hoseok shrieks and cheers loud enough that the waiter has to ask the table to calm down, and namjoon keeps squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at his chest in happiness

• The rest of the night is celebrated properly, with hoseok paying for the rounds of soju to make up for his obliviousness

• Before you know it, the wedding is upon you

• Da won was much better at planning than you, knowing exactly what colors match and how to appropriately decorate the venue

• The two of you of course have friends outside hoseok and his group, but you’re both much closer with them, and so instead of a best man and a maid of honour, you have two best men; hoseok and taehyung, with the other five as the equivalent of bridesmaids

• Da won designs her own dress, and she stubbornly refused to let you see it until the day of

• You’re not ashamed to say you teared up during the ceremony, but your glassy eyes were no match for the full-on sobs of happiness from taehyung, who’s almost too overcome with emotion to hand over the rings

• Jin sheds a perfectly formed tear, hoseok sniffs quietly and holds on tightly to yoongi’s hand on his shoulder, and the rest are all smiling so widely their cheeks hurt

• After the ceremony is the reception, and it’s time for speeches

• Hoseok’s speech is sweet and thoughtful

• You can tell he’s nervous and that he must’ve spent ages writing with it (he confesses to asking for namjoon for help more times than he can count) but the gist of it is how proud he is of his big sister, how da won is his biggest role model now and always, and how he can’t imagine a better person to make her happy than you

• You lean into da won’s side, happily glancing up at her every now and again, still blown away by how beautiful she is, and how her eyes light up when she looks at you

• Tae’s speech is a disaster

• You know he’s perfectly capable of writing beautiful lyrics, but with the way the other two maknaes (and jin) snicker and slap each other’s shoulders, this was a group project

• He starts by telling a story you previously hadn’t heard about how, when da won and you were just under a year into your relationship, having told the boys a couple months prior, da won had come to set one day purely to mope around and complain because you had flown out of seoul to visit your parents and she couldn’t come with because of work

• Apparently, she had just about eaten the catering station out of business, and wouldn’t stop going up to random members on set and telling them about you

• Da won buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with laughter, and you felt pretty amused until the tables turned

• Tae revealed the time you had asked jimin for advice on which set of lingerie to buy, and it had ended with the maknae line buying an exorbitant amount of bras and panties so that you could try them on and see which set was best

• You were pretty sure they just put it in the speech to brag about the fact that they had seen a girl in her underwear given by the way Jungkook puffed out his chest and jimin grinned around at all the other people in the room

• It’s a couple of months after the wedding when the two of you begin having serious talks about having kids

• It’s not as easy as with straight couples, and so there are several options you could choose to try

• In the end, both of you want your dna in the baby, but of course that isn’t possible with the two of you alone

• It’s da won that suggests, half joking, that she could get hoseok to donate sperm since they practically look the same, and at the time you both laugh and brush it off

• But after a while, neither of you can stop thinking about it

• It really seems like the best solution for both of you to pass on your genes as best you can, so the two of you call hoseok over to sit down and discuss it with him

• It is the most awkward hour or so of your life

• Hoseok takes a couple weeks to think about it, but one of the tour managers has just had a little baby girl and he can see how happy the new mother is, and how close their bond is

• He gets a little taken over with baby fever, and also the thought that it would make the two of you so happy

• In addition, it would make him an uncle (technically a father), and he knew he would spoil the kid rotten, as would the rest of bts

• So he calls up da won and says he’s happy to

• It’s more likely that the transfer will be successful if you use IVF rather than,,,natural conception, so that’s what you do

• Miraculously, it works the very first round

• You get the call from the doctor when you’re making da won dinner for her birthday

• The two of you scream and hug and cry and laugh, and it’s one of the most wonderful nights of your life

• You don’t tell hobi or anyone until you’re almost at the end of the first trimester, when you can be sure the baby is there to stay, and away from most risks or complications

• The two of you decide that the ‘wait and see how long it takes them to find out’ method takes too long, and you can’t bear to wait any longer to share your joy with them, so one day you visit them at the dorm when they’re all chilling

• It takes ages to convince them to all be quiet and sit in the same room, but when you finally do, the two of you cheer ‘we’re pregnant!!’ at the same time

• Everyone freezes and goes silent

• Hobi goes dead pale

• Taehyung rushes up and swings you around in a big bear hug and then everyone breaks out of their shock and hop up to congratulate you

• Poor hoseok still looks like he’s seen a ghost as jin laughs and claps him on the back cheerily

• The other members notice his reaction and yoongi makes a joke that he’s planning to murder the baby daddy

• You and da won share a glance

• Did hobi seriously not tell any of the guys what he did?

• Then you realize hobi isn’t shocked in a bad way, he’s just so overcome that he’s beginning to cry quietly, with a look of wonder on his face

• “I’m just so happy for you two, honestly”

• You all have dinner at the dorm, and jin cracks a bottle of wine

• Jimin is VERY careful to keep an eye on you the whole night to make sure you don’t have any

• At one point when things start to quiet down, hoseok admits to the other members that he did IVF for you

• BIG mistake

• Now the maknaes refuse to call him anything but ‘daddy’

• They’ve fucked up and accidentally said it on a v-live before and army went fucking nuts, thinking it was a sexual thing

• Jin once interrupted hobi on an American interview to say his favorite animal was the sperm whale

• Namjoon will send him fifty, sixty-picture streams of baby photos, asking hobi which one he thinks his kid will look like

• Everyone seems to have forgotten that hobi isn’t really going to be the dad at all

• But you and da won are happy

• The baby is growing at a very healthy pace, and the boys have set up a system where they take turns coming with you to the clinic for your doctor’s appointments

• They all seem way more invested and curious than you expected

• Over the next few months, this is basically how it goes at those appointments with each member:

• Hoseok all but ignores the two of you and stares dreamily at the ultrasound picture on the big screen, and gets copies printed so that he can (VERY carefully, so that they’re not visible on a livestream) put them in his room and his wallet

• Jin likes to make up elaborate explanations for all the different tools the nurse uses like he’s some sort of expert, to distract your mind from things like injections or IVs, but then the moment they’re actually put in, he freaks out and has to leave the room with a lot of fanfare

• Jungkook picks up on the routine infuriatingly fast, and you catch him focusing intently on what the nurse says with a slightly open mouth every time she gives you instructions

• He has been known to text you in the middle of the night things like “has ur morning sickness gone away yet? just curious, nurse said it should’ve gone away by now”

• Namjoon has a ringbinder filled with all the pamphlets you get given, photocopies from pregnancy books he’s gotten from the library (under a staff member’s library card) and handwritten notes from each session he goes to

• He gets annoyed when one of the other members goes and hasn’t paid attention, so he has to ask you what was said so that he can keep his records up to date

• You remind him he’s not even related to the baby or you two at all

• He insists it’s bangtan’s baby, and in a way all seven of them should be stepping up as fathers

• To this day you don’t know how serious he was being when he said that…

• Taehyung likes to make a day of it

• The appointments are always pretty early in the morning so that you have a free afternoon, but on tae’s days, he’ll take you out for brunch, to a spa, to get massages, he’ll buy you plushies

• He says he just wants you to be as comfortable as possible, and he wants to be a supportive best friend throughout your pregnancy

• You would know what jimin was like if he actually showed up

• Okay, maybe that’s not fair

• Jimin mostly shows up, he’s just always late

• And consistently twelve minutes late too, it’s super weird and you don’t understand why he just doesn’t wake up fifteen minutes earlier

• But when he shows up, e v e r y  t i m e he likes to try and convince the nurse he’s the father

• He’ll talk about how the ultrasound clearly shows the baby has his eyes, or that you hadn’t even tried for a baby, but his sperm game was clearly so powerful

• You know he’s not attracted to you or anything, but he’s so caught up in the romance of a pregnancy that he likes to play baby daddy

• It does mean that he’s offered to do those weird pregnancy classes with you

• Like the ones where you sit on a balance ball and do odd stretching and massaging

• Da won was meant to obviously be the one to go with you, but she’s been called out to Tokyo for a few weeks as she has a store opening there

• You’re so proud of her but you miss your wifey

• So jimin is like ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I’ll do it

• And now you’re being asked to move in to the dorm in your third trimester so that you aren’t at home alone

• Anyway, yoongi is the last member that comes with you to appointments, and he likes to act all strong and cold, but you can see the way his eyes narrow when that trainee nurse took your blood a little too aggressively and left a bruise in the crook of your elbow

• And the way you would always forget to take your vitamins, were it not for the fact that he sent you a text every morning to check up on you

• You’re kind of starting to see what namjoon meant by it being a bangtan baby

• As it gets closer to d-day, you lose a lot of your independence

• You feel like a beached whale the second you sit or lie down, you can’t walk without hobbling, and cravings are really taking a hold of you

• Oh god. Cravings

• Jin tries to incorporate your mutant taste into the dinners he’s started preparing for you all every night to make sure you’re eating enough

• But it doesn’t go down well

• “jin-hyung, are you trying to poison us? Why is there so much cumin in the white rice, it takes ridiculous”

• “it’s for y/n, jungkookie”

• “you’re trying to poison y/n?!”

• Namjoon reminds you that the baby can hear outside in the world, so you should start talking to it and playing it peaceful music, so it gets used to your voice

• So now you basically wander around, narrating your life to Babie

• You have decided to convince yoongi to play piano for you all the time

• He sighs and kicks up a small fuss every time you ask, but he’ll sit there for hours, playing delicate instrumentals of their songs and lullabies you caught him learning recently, with the sweetest smile on his face

• Moving in does create challenges, though

• You can’t leave the dorm for fear of being spotted, which means the doctor has to make house visits, and you are escorted by a black van and security guards to the pregnancy classes you and jimin attend

• Most of them have their own rooms in the new dorm, so Jungkook moves in with taehyung to give you a room to yourself

• You keep all your stuff in there and make sure to never leave that room while anyone is recording or streaming

• Army, those perceptive fuckers, have noticed something’s up with the boys though

• “oppa, you look so happy nowadays, oppa, you’ve put on a little weight and you look so handsome, omG why does namjoon own a book on pregnancy?”

• Ok that last one was a mistake on joon’s behalf

• In his defense, he was reading a really interesting chapter on how the cervix dilates in labor and he really wanted to shoot a quick live and get back to finishing it

• It’s a poor defense and he knows it, but that big nerd is telling the truth

• Speaking of namjoon, he’s started running drills on you going into labor

• Taehyung and hoseok packed the pregnancy bag a couple weeks before you were due, and now every second day namjoon will periodically yell out “y/n’s water just broke!”

• And watch everyone scream and rush around the house, freaking out

• There’s literally no reason for them to worry

• You hardly ever leave the house, and bighit have hired a car with tinted windows and a driver that rotates on shifts so that 24/7, there is someone ready to take you discreetly to the nearest hospital

• After a few drills, fights begin to break out on which members get to ride with you in the car

• Jimin says he’s practically the father, so he should go

• Hobi says he’s literally the father, so he should go

• Namjoon points out he’s the most knowledgeable, so he should go

• Taehyung’s claim is that he’s your best friend, so he should be the one to join you

• Jin believes you deserve a handsome face to look at to motivate you to push, which means the only 10 of bangtan should get to go with you

• Yoongi says he’s the only member of bts that can be trusted to keep a cool head, and you’ll have the best chance of having an easy delivery if you go

• Jungkook does not want to go

• In the end, the car has three seats in the back and one in the front, so you figure you could probably get two people to come with

• You decide on hoseok and yoongi

• Namjoon is very upset upon hearing this, especially since he’s put so much work into getting everything ready

• But you just don’t need someone who knows everything like namjoon because that’s literally the job for the nurses, doctor and midwife

• Unacceptable

• Namjoon calls up his manager and convinces him to get two cars so that everyone can go

• Jungkook goes a little green when he’s told he gets to come with, but you assure him he’s more than welcome to wait in the hallway, where there are vending machines

• The thought of vending machines cheers him up

• When your water does break, you’re watching a movie with all of the guys

• You’ve got your legs up across taehyung, and jimin beside him is giving you a divine foot rub

• Your back is pressed up against jin

• You’re just chilling, then feel your pants get wet all of a sudden

• Taehyung makes a weird noise of shock, and then scrunches up his face

• “did you just fucking piss on me?”

• Everyone cracks into gear like a well-oiled machine when you realize it was your water breaking

• You’re a little taken off-guard by how quickly contractions begin after that, and you painfully change into some dry sweatpants, dumping your wet ones in a laundry hamper

• Taehyung has to change, too, so it’s up to the other six to sort everything out

• Hoseok’s running around with the bag over the moon, not knowing what to do with himself

• Yoongi has calmly called both drivers to notify them that they’d be going soon, and then calls ahead to the hospital

• Somehow namjoon has produced an identical pregnancy bag ‘just in case’ and is sifting through, checking off a printed-off list of everything that’s in there

• Jungkook’s hovering near the front door, zoning out completely and staring blankly at the wall, while jimin is beside him wiggling in excitement, ready to go

• Jin has disappeared to the kitchen to grab all the frozen and refrigerated leftovers he had been stockpiling for your hospital stay

• By the time you are settled down on a hospital bed with all the boys waiting outside except taehyung, you’ve dilated so rapidly that they’re asking you to push

• You’ve missed the chance for an epidural with how quickly you went into labor and you deeply regret being the one of you to get pregnant because fuck this hurts

• Your vagina is being ripped in half

• Like that scene where captain America tears that log open with his bare hands

• Only way less sexy

• Taehyung is up by your head, holding your hand and not complaining when you’re probably close to breaking his fingers

• At one point in the delivery, jungkook is sent in to let you know that da won has been notified and she’s taking a flight back now

• His timing is a little unfortunate

• “good, y/n, the baby is crowning, give us another big push now”

• Jungkook takes one look down there and promptly passes out

• One of the nurses just sighs, picks him up and takes him outside to lie down on one of the benches in the hallway

• Because he never told you the news before, he went down, jin is sent in to let you know what Jungkook was meant to tell you

• The thought of seeing your precious wife again after so long apart gives you the strength to really push through (pun intended) and deliver the baby

• Finally, you collapse back against the sweat-drenched paper sheet and listen to the sound of a gentle cry

• You had kept the gender a secret, figuring it didn’t really matter, it was 2018 dammit, but when the nurse announced that it was a beautiful baby boy, you and taehyung both started to cry tears of joy

• In a daze, you’re handed your son briefly, and then he’s taken away again to be cleaned off and weighed, and a nurse messes around down under and cleans you up too

• Eventually, you’re ready for visitors

• At this point, the labor took a long enough time that it’s now the early hours of the morning, just before 5am

• The boys file into the room, some more enthusiastically than others

• Namjoon and hoseok bound in, with jin, yoongi, jimin following cheerily behind

• Jungkook reluctantly slips in, eyes covered until you assure him, you’re all covered up

• Hobi holds your little boy first, crying fat tears directly onto his tiny face much to your amusement and the baby’s disgust

• You get to hold him properly next, and the members all come one by one to have a look at him as he gurgles happily and clenches his little fists

• Da won returns a couple of hours later and rushes in to hold her son, the two of you holding hands and watching your little boy with complete bliss on your faces

• Over the coming weeks, you’re back at your own place with da won, getting used to the full-time job of being a mother

• Of course, it’s not just the two of you

• Hobi asks permission to tell army that you and da won have had a child, on the condition that you never give any information about him being the sperm donor

• He just wants to show the world how cute that little guy is, and you both happily agree

• Only problem is, now army want as much content as possible of the guys playing with your son and being all domestic

• You can see why, they’re all naturals when it comes to most things

• Army dubs your son the bangtan baby, because just like namjoon told you, it was like they were all stepping up to be fathers to this kid

• Namjoon would spend three hours at a time in his studio discussing the finer details of your son’s life so far, and all the challenges and triumphs namjoon has had along the way

• Now that army know why he had that pregnancy book, they want to know from him what you being pregnant was like

• He’s only too happy to recount those 9 months for as long as his fans will listen

• Hoseok posts on twitter almost every day with photos of him taking selfies with your son, your son falling asleep on him, his tiny hand wrapped around hoseok’s pinky finger

• Even though he’ll probably never be able to tell the world that he’s technically a father now, he’ll show off to the world that he can be the best uncle there ever was

• When the cameras are off, however, he’s just as sweet

• He’d happily look after the baby for hours if you asked him to, he’s so patient, and if you weren’t gay as fuck, you’d totally get smitten over him as he makes faces to make your little boy laugh

• He likes to talk to him in baby voices and make sound effects as he bops him on the nose and pokes his soft cheeks

• Your heart soars to see how truly happy he is

• Seokjin doesn’t drop by that often, probably because he’s still pissed that the baby isn’t old enough to be fed actual food yet

• The few times he does accompany one of the boys to visit, he shows off his spoon airplane technique, saying that you need to let him know immediately when he can start filming special editions of Eatjin with him

• What can you say, seokjin has his priorities

• Taehyung spends a lot of time at your house in the evenings

• He’s obsessed with putting your boy to bed

• (he hasn’t worked out that newborns sleep like all day too, so he really doesn’t have to keep coming over at 6pm every day)

• Honestly, what baby can stay awake when they have kim taehyung singing them lullabies?

• He is the expert at sneaking away suuuper silently so that he doesn’t wake up and start crying

• You honestly think taehyung is just about ready to knock up a girl with the way he looks so soft and happy when he exits the nursery

• His guilty pleasure is sitting in the rocking chair and letting the baby fall asleep on his chest, so that he can gently pat his back or bottom and feel those tiny arms around his neck

• He has been known to convince da won to let the baby sleep with him in the spare room

• You walked in on him kissing his cheeks and rubbing his nose as he tickled your son’s tummy

• It was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, but it was half an hour past bedtime for your boy and you had to be stern momma, getting taehyung to put him down properly

• Jungkook is getting better with the baby

• He still will only come with one of his hyungs, but you can imagine once he’s old enough to start wanting to play with toys, he’ll really flourish

• He always brings presents around for the baby and for you two

• Whenever he sees baby clothes, he has the compulsion to buy them, and at this rate your son will have a bigger closet than you by the time he reaches one year old

• Yoongi doesn’t visit too often in the beginning but fans will not let him rest until he shoots a livestream with the baby

• In the end he films a review of his most recent album with your son snoring away in his arms, and army just about combust

• Every now and again he loses his train of thought and just stares into your son’s face for like a solid minute

• At one point, he wakes up and starts to cry, and yoongi, without missing a beat, lifts him up and starts bouncing him lightly, giving him a proper snuggle to calm him down

• He finally ends the live when he smells something suspicious and immediately hands the baby over to da won

• Finally, jimin

• Jimin takes on the role as the best dad in bangtan a little too seriously

• “everyone, I’ve just been to the store to buy Vaseline. When the mother breastfeeds, her nipples can crack and so you have to keep them moisturized…oh no, I don’t put it on myself, I’m just buying it for her…how do I know her nipples are- oh, I don’t know, I just thought I should buy some just in case! Being a parent is all about thinking ahead, you know? I’m trying to be proactive”

• “army, I’m whispering right now because this little guy is having a wee sleep, but as a father it’s important to have skin-to-skin contact to bond, so that’s why I’m not wearing a shirt right now…oh, you like it? Thank you, I think the baby likes it too”

• “jimin, put your fucking shirt back on”

• “y/n, please don’t swear in front of my son, you’re a terrible influence on him”

• “you’re not even the godfather, don’t be ridiculous”

• “everyone, often parents face adversity, but it’s important to stay strong and make sure your child is around only the best people. Swearing isn’t something I want my child to hear at his tender age”

• Literally, he’ll go on like this for hours

• New army genuinely assume you and him or da won and him are a couple and he’s the father

• It does mean that youtube channels that make fake-subtitle videos of him and the viewer have literally no work to do

• Jimin has no shame when it comes to acting like he’s the coolest dad in town, that he even asks you and da won to let him bring the baby to an award show so he can collect the main album of the year award with ‘his son’ with him

• Army go fucking wild when he shows up on the red carpet with an infant tucked into the crook of his arm

• Poor sejin has to lug around the massive bag with diapers and formula and spare clothes tho :(

• As your son grows up, he’s surrounded by nine of the most adoring people in the world

• You and da won make sure he’s a respectable young man

• Namjoon teaches him to be kind and grateful to everyone

• Hoseok would bend over backwards for him and your son most certainly knows and exploits this

• Jungkook always goes to his sports games when he’s in the area and cheers him on louder than any of the other actual parents

• Jin gives him flirting advice when he gets his first crush

• Taehyung and jimin are still determined to be the cool dads, and the three of them have formed a ritual of going to the park and having a picnic together at least once or twice a month

• and your child is the only person on the planet who can always crack a smile and get a hug from uncle yoongi

• you and da won couldn’t be happier, and you couldn’t be prouder

[sweetie-buttons]

Goosebumps Commentary: Most Wanted The Haunted Mask

He recognized his visitor at once. He gasped. And cried out:

“What are you doing here?” The shopkeeper?

The younger man squinted into the light at William. “Is that any way to greet your brother? Maybe his brother is the shopkeeper?

“I can’t believe that creature is still alive.” Randolph raised the case in front of him like a shield. “Can you make him stop that ugly snarling?” Is this why they haven’t talked in years, because he didn’t like his brother’s dog?

Randolph grabbed the green mask – the Haunted Mask. He gripped it in both hands. Dove forward – raised it high, and tugged the mask down over William’s head. Siblings, am I right?

There’s a drawing of a mask in pen at the end of Chapter 6. I assume these are really clear pictures of the pages irl, since I’m reading it online.

The last sounds William heard were the quiet whimpers of Hansel, just outside the closet door. Okay, we have facial horror and character death to start off the book. I’m invested.

Her problem is that she’s soooo serious. All the time. […] She’s into Green Power, and saving the bald eagles, and she’s a vegetarian. Yeah, vegetarians can’t be fun people.

“Do you know how to spell tragic?”

“Of course I do. I didn’t have to take first grade three times like you.” Oh burn?

“Just tell me what’s so tragic.”

“My dad bought a pumpkin farm,” he said. I guess he’s not a fan of pumpkins?

“Here comes the tragic part. He got permission to take me out of school all week so I can help out on the farm.” I can’t tell which of those options are worse.

“Oh, yes. So where am I going to be spending Halloween? In a pumpkin patch.” At least it’s appropriate for the holiday.

“I have to go scare my little brother now.” She’s off to fulfill Big Sister Duties.

We get along great even though we’re so different. Siblings that get along? In a Goosebumps book?

The only thing we fight about is breakfast – toaster waffles or toaster pancakes? Reasonable thing to fight about.

“The scary part is…Evil Boris lives in your closet, Mitch. He lives in the back of your clothes closet.” That story should be titled I Live in Your Clothes Closet!

Mitch grabbed the door handle. He pulled open the door – and a hideous old man with long curled fangs and a dangling eyeball came roaring out at him. I don’t think I get any points for predicting that it’s a cat scare.

My friend Brad Delaney pulled off the old-man mask. At least it’s not the same one Steve wore, if he can pull it off.

“Well…what if we put on ugly masks like this one. Only we wear them backwards.” He pulled the mask over his head and spun it around so that the face part was on the back of his head. Then we put our clothes on backwards and we walk backwards into Polly’s house and we –” That was actually a good idea until the second part.

“Because if the mask is on backwards, you can’t see a thing. You’re totally blind.” Oh right, because of the lack of eyeholes. I take it back, the entire idea is dumb.

I gaped at the enormous, ugly gorilla in the doorway. Wasn’t there a gorilla mask mentioned in the first THM?

Devin, Brad, Marcus, and I hang out together all the time, I guess because we’re the only kids we know who don’t take things too seriously and who like to laugh all the time, even if we’re being total jerks. Apparently no other kid in the location of this book isn’t a total stick-in-the-mud.

On Halloween night, I went to Polly’s party as a vampire. Stine trying to make up for his lack of vampire books.

She talks to everyone like they’re all five years old. I feel bad for Polly.

She’s actually a very nice person, and she’s a good mom. She lets Polly have sleepovers at her house all the time. And Polly can stay up as late as she wants, even on school nights. She seems like a good mom at the time when she lets you, but the next day it’s not as fun.

“The attic,” I murmured. Let’s just hope there’s no invisibility mirrors in there.

I started to pull it on. Get ready to pull your own face off.

It looked like a bald man with his mouth frozen open in a scream. The top of the head was split open, and bright red blood appeared to flow down both sides of his face. …That is actually quite disturbing. So if you put on the mask and take it off, you become a mask yourself? Or did they mistake his actual head as a mask? Doubtful, since then the rest of his body would be there.

I glanced up at the ceiling light. Don’t pull it in case it transports you to a mirror world or something.

I grabbed the ugly mask and pulled it on. Really? After what he said? I don’t expect you to immediately believe him, but surely you’d have some hesitation.

“Only an act of unbelievable kindness can remove it,” he said. I guess “symbol of love” is trademarked.

“You’re so UGLY!” she shrieked. Is that any way to talk to someone who just kindly offered to help you find your way home?

Maybe I could use the evil of the Haunted Mask to chase the ghost from the closet. The ghost tried to warn you about the mask. What’s with the automatic assumption that he’s evil?

Saving Polly wasn’t enough. Because the ghost wasn’t actually evil, meaning you were doing the opposite of an “act of kindness” (again, is “symbol of love” trademarked?).

I mean, have you ever looked at pumpkin leaves?

They are big dudes. Apparently pumpkin leaves are “dudes”.

And those fat, ugly leaves are noisy, too. Alright, I was mistaken, he was calling the pumpkins dudes. But that’s still weird.

Dad says I have a runaway imagination. So does Lu-Ann, as she mentioned.

Her face is round and her body is round. As if she’s built of pumpkins!

But I’m being unfair. She is actually very nice. She has a warm, friendly smile and a soft voice, and she gave me an extra stack of pancakes this morning, which were great. Yeah, stop with the fatphobia.

It’s such a pain to have a sister who is wrong all the time.

It’s an even bigger pain to have two sisters who are always wrong. I’d say it’s a bigger pain to have a sister who is right all the time.

So, I try not to complain. I only tell him how much I hate it here five or ten times a day. Wow, that I amazing restraint. I would’ve complained about being in places I didn’t like five or ten times an hour.

He keeps calling the pumpkins he stepped in “pumpkin guts”. Yeah, someone slaughtered that pumpkin and scooped out its insides.

“You mean our usual man-to-man talk where you tell me I’m acting like a jerk?”

“Yes,” he said. “That talk.” Ah, father-son time.

“I’m warning you, boy,” he said.

He only calls me boy when he is angry.

“One more crazy sunt, and you’ll be grounded for a month after we get home. And no cell-phone privileges for a month. I mean it.”

“No phone? Dad, that’s like cutting off my oxygen!” Same, Devin. I included the “boy” part just because I found it semi-funny.

“They’re alive!” Dale cried, screaming in fright. Cat scare.

“From inside a pumpkin, he can shift to another shape. Another body. He can be a human or an animal. Guess what human or animal he is.

And no one can rise up from the dead and take the shape of…

…of a black cat? Okay, it’s not Zeus the cat. It’s just not.

It was a comedy about a boy who switches bodies with his father. Genderflipped Freaky Friday?

“He’s just a cat, Devin. That’s all.” Called it.

[crashdevlin]

Good Things: Part 2

part one 

You were lucky, when the demon started making its way through the wake, to be wearing a silver anti-possession amulet. Elvis, Alicia and Jody weren't so lucky. 

At one point, you were searching the manor with Mary, the stunningly beautiful and young mother Winchester. "I saw how Dean was looking at you. His father used to look at me like that." She said, quietly, not looking at you. She concentrated on clearing the room.

"Oh?" You couldn't think of anything better to say.

"I rejected John when he first asked me out. He was a Marine. I didn't want a soldier. Spent my whole life around hunters, didn't need more of the macho BS in my world." Mary finally turned to look at you. "Dean looks at you like he's trying to figure out how to win you over."

You cleared your throat. "I... don't... Dean has a reputation." You weren't sure why that was what came out of your mouth.

"I've heard." She confirmed.

"And I'd've been fine with that rep, but he was talking about some chick he had a connection with and I'm not the kind of chick guys like Dean cheat on their girlfriends with... I mean... I can't... Look at me."

"He doesn't have a girlfriend." Mary put her hand on your shoulder. "You should talk to him when this is over."

You did. After the exorcism, as you were watching Asa, Randy and Elvis being sent home in smoke, you bit your lip and approached him. "Thought I should actually say 'Goodbye' this-"

"You should come to breakfast with us." He interrupted. "We're takin' Mom to get some bacon. What do you say?"

You smiled. "Well, does this look like a body that says 'no' to bacon?"

You sat between Sam and Jody in a diner booth in North Dakota. Dean sat across from you, sharing a large plate of bacon with Mary. "Okay, craziest thing you've ever hunted?" Dean asked.

"Uh, probably the transsexual witch who cursed her community college to wake up in the body of someone of the opposite sex so they'd understand how she felt." You answered, before taking a bite of pancake.

"When you say 'she'..." Sam trailed off. It was a genuinely curious question.

"Born 'Michael', became 'Michelle'."

"What'd you do with her?" Mary asked, drinking down some coffee.

"Well, she hadn't actually hurt anyone, just confused the fuck out of 'em for about 16 hours, and she did it out of an overwhelming desire to be understood, so I put her in contact with a Wiccan priestess I know. Last I heard, she was flourishing in her new coven, really embraced the 'Harm ye none' thing."

"Wicca is new agey white-" Dean started to explain, but Mary shot him a death glare.

"Gardnerian witchcraft has been around since the Fifties, Dean. 'Wicca' replaced 'Witch' because the hippies wanted to beat the negative connotations, wanted everyone to know they weren't wart-covered crones in candy houses trying to curse everyone and eat little children."

"Oh, we met her." Sam spoke up.

"Who?" You and Jody chimed in together.

"The witch from 'Hansel and Gretel'. She was turning crappy adults into shitty kids so that she could eat them. Hansel was in on it."

You looked between the brothers. "You're bullshitting."

"Swear to God. She was one of the last old-timey witches from the Grand Coven. Probably only a small handful of 'em left. Rowena doesn't count." Dean answered Sam's unasked question.

"Who's Rowena?"

"A tiny Scottish ball of fury and dark magic. Not really evil, but definitely not one of the good guys." Dean responded.

"She got kicked out of the Grand Coven for being too ambitious." Sam followed up.

"Not to mention: you know Crowley? That's his mom."

"Crowley, the demon?" You asked.

"Crowley, the douchebag." Jody snorted derisively.

You laughed. "Okay. Somebody else, weirdest hunt you ever been on?"

"There was a Shifter who spent a year following Paul Simon's tour. He was killing people who had tickets to the shows so he could take their spot." Mary said, around a piece of bacon.

"Being the reason Bobby Singer found out Leviathans are allergic to borax was pretty weird." Jody provided.

"What's a Leviathan?"

"They almost ate the world, what, five years ago?" Sam asked Dean, who nodded. "They were seriously low-key about it, though. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of them."

"You sound like a hipster." You laughed. "So, what about you two? The legendary Winchester Brothers must have been on some ridiculous hunts."

"Oh, all kinds. Let's see, top of my head. Bloody Mary, killer clown ghost, haunted movie set where I got really into my role as PA, we killed Santa, the angels once wiped our memories and gave us new identities working office jobs. There was that time with the dragons. Oh, and when we went back in time and met Samuel Colt and killed a phoenix." Dean went through the list alternating between excitement and boredom.

"Not to forget everything Gabriel did to us. That was all ridiculous. Oh, and that alternate universe Balthazar sent us to where our lives were a moderately successful primetime TV show." Sam added.

"And Chuck's books about us."

"And finding out that Chuck was God."

"And not dying in the dust-up between God and his sister." Dean turned to Mary with a smile. "And getting Mom back as reward for mediating a reconciliation between them."

You stared at the table, going through everything you just heard. "Holy shit." You gasped out, finally. "I... I knew you guys started and stopped the apocalypse a few times, but... holy shit. Back and forth through time, alternate realities, you know God and he has a sister?!"

"You should stick around. We're bound to blow your mind some more. Crowley and our angel friend, Cas, are working together to find Lucifer, who was most recently seen in the body of has-been glam rocker, Vince Vincente."

"Oh, holy... Lucifer was in Ladyheart."

"No, Lucifer was in a dude who was in Ladyheart." Dean corrected.

"Wow. Your lives really are legendary."

"Well, you never know. Stick around. It might rub off on you. Then, you could be a legend." Jody nudged you, lightly, as Mary looked down with a smile. The moms were conspiring together.

"Yeah, well... I'm not sure if I could handle that."

"You don't know til you try, do you?" Dean smirked at you from across the table.

You took a deep breath. You had one more tool in your tool-bag to try to fend off whatever the hell was happening here: blunt, honest confrontation. "You are putting in a lot of effort here to get your 'I Fucked A Fatty' badge, aren't'cha?"

Everyone at the table jerked and the mood immediately fell into a limbo of apprehension as Dean blinked at you. "What?" He said after several long seconds.

"Oh, come on. This is obviously some Playboy Scavenger Hunt, right? Your list of conquests, a 'Fuck-it List'?" You took a bite of your pancake and looked pointedly across the table at him. "I'm a novelty, right? Bang a black chick, bang a latina, a milf, a mature... twins?"

Dean nodded, slowly, and licked his lips. "You think I've been flirting with you, trying to get you in bed, so that I can cross 'fat chick' off my list? Just makin' sure I got this right." You took a drink of your coffee and returned his uncomfortable gaze. He nodded again, then leaned forward. "When I was twenty-three, I met a chick named Ursula Green at a bar. She was five-foot-nothing, three hundred pounds, wearing a red halter top and a skirt with a split in the side clean up to her hip. She danced like no one was watching and threw a beer bottle at the redneck who told her to 'take her fat ass home' and I grabbed two nice big handfuls of her ass when I took her back to her home that night."

You swallowed. His green eyes bored into your soul as he continued. "She crossed 'fat chick' off my list." The way he said it was like he couldn't believe he was saying those words. "Now, I don't know what you've heard about me and I'm sure that I've earned a bit of that reputation... but I am not gonna sit here and let you think that I've been talkin' to you just because you're a little on the chunky side and that makes you a novelty. I don't know what kinda men you generally let into your life, y/n, but I don't play games like that."

You opened your mouth but no words came out. The other three occupants of the booth table all looked very uncomfortable, so you cleared your throat and stood. You threw a ten dollar bill on the table and walked out of the diner. 

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I'm going home, Dean." You grabbed the handle of your driver's side door and pulled your key.

"Yeah, I got eyes, y/n." He growled, putting a hand on your car door to keep you from opening it. "Why?"

You turned to him, exasperated. "Because I don't know what to do!" You shouted, pulling away from your door and leaned against the backseat window. 

"I've never had a man want me for anything more than a single-night novelty fuck, or worse a pity fuck, Dean, and I don't know what to do about a man like you wanting-"

"What do you mean, 'a man like me'?" Dean interrupted.

"A preposterously handsome biblical hero who shouldn't even look at a woman like me."

"What do you mean 'a woman like you'?" Dean shook his head. "Look, y/n, more than what I saw from you last year and-and what I saw from you with Jael last night, I have asked about you. Every hunter I've talked to since Spirit Lake has a story about you, some way that you've helped them in the past." You opened your mouth to argue that you weren't anything special and you'd always just done what any hunter would do, but Dean stepped closer to you and you were suddenly struck with how tall the man was. "You think outside the box, you put others first, you are the epitome of selfless and goddamn it, you're gorgeous."

You looked down. "That's not true..."

"Stop acting like you don't see it." Dean demanded.

For some reason you needed to resist him. "See what? I've got mirrors in my house, Winchester. I see-"

"You obviously don't see. You don't see what I see."

"Are you kidding me?! You really expect me to believe that you met me, spent two days with me, and I-I somehow impressed you enough that you've spent the last year with me on your mind? I'm not an idiot!"

"Yeah, not an idiot but you sure are blind." Dean took another step closer to you, looking down at you with a confused annoyance. "Fuck, y/n. Why the hell won't you-"

"Because it's too good to be true!" You exclaimed, pushing off from the side of your car and standing up to him, ignoring that his height was so intimidating. 

"Good things don't happen to me, Dean, they never have. So when I have a stunningly handsome man telling me I'm gorgeous, it sets off my bullshit alarm."

"Good things don't happen to you because you run away as soon as they start!" Dean insisted. "You think those extra pounds around your middle are your defining characteristic, but they aren't. That weight is nothing and you need to stop focusing so much on it. I didn't even clock you as fat until you started that shit inside. This isn't bullshit, y/n. I leave my lies for when I'm on a hunt."

You bit your lip and looked up into his stunning green eyes. "Dean, I-"

His face softened. "I'm not trying to get you to jump in bed with me, y/n." He reached out and brushed a stray hair out of your face. His hand rested against your ear and his fingers twirled your hair. "But don't run. Stay. Let the good things happen... in their own time."

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and presented it to him. "Put your number in. I'll text you."

"You're still gonna leave?" He asked, disappointed, as he took a step back and took the phone out of your hand.

"I've got a hunt in Tennessee. Only reason I'm not on it already was for Asa." You answered. "But... I'm interested in... letting the good thing... this good thing... happen."

"The cautious approach. I'm all right with that." He said, tapping his thumbs against the screen of your cell phone. "I just texted myself so that I have your number, too. A warning: I drunk text." He smiled as he handed your phone back.

"Okay. As long as you don't send pictures I haven't requested... I'm okay with that."

"There gonna be pictures you do request?"

You chuckled, turning your forgotten key in the driver's door. "Maybe, Winchester."

"Can I request pictures?" He asked, as you got into your car.

"Not yet." You smiled as you turned your engine over and headed out. 

Part Three

[zmediaoutlet]

i love the idea of dean high and fuzzy while watching shitty movies and kinda jerking off but not really committed enough to call it that, just sorta there but also not

(read on AO3)

Sam grinds the heel of his hand into his eye, trying to concentrate.His essay on Marbury v. Madison isn't going to write itself, even if they alreadywent over judicial review at his last school, but he's read the relevant sectionsin his government textbook about five times and it's not really inspiring him. Hisstudy environment isn't exactly helping.

"Come on, dork," Dean says, plopping back onto hishalf of the couch. He kicks his socked feet up onto the egg-crate coffee tableand cracks open his next beer. "Aren't you done with your homework yet?You're supposed to be good at this stuff."

"I am," Samsays, sliding a leg over to kick Dean in the thigh. Dean just grins and pincheshis Achilles tendon, eyes still on the TV. Sam yanks his foot back, irritated.It's late, and he's tired, and the Seagal movie on the free channels is likeextra-stupid right now, and this essay isn't even due until Friday. There's notmuch else to do, though. Their little studio apartment doesn't have anywhere tobe alone except the bathroom, and if he spends too long in there Dean alwaysgets that stupid grin on his face and asks Sam if he's getting friction burns,and even if Sam's well-used to Dean's jerky big brother crap he still blushes,and then—

So, no privacy in the studio. Dad's been gone for a week,and isn't going to be back for at least one more—which probably means a month,but that's okay with Sam. At least he might actually get to finish out the semesterat this school. He turns back to the beginning of the chapter while a bunch ofpeople die on TV, and Dean snorts and mutters, "Yeah, real nice trigger discipline,idiot," and Sam rolls his eyes and sticks his pencil into the book as amarker.

"Why do you bother watching these movies if they're so dumb?"he says, and drops the book the floor next to the couch.

Dean actually looks at him, surprised. "Are you kidding?"he says. On screen, Seagal does some kind of goofy karate chop move and the extrahe's fighting goes down like a lead weight. "This is great!"

Sam sighs and grabs his backpack, and decamps to the queenbed shoved into the corner, where he can't see the TV. He can't believe they'restuck in Butte of all places in December. Three days of snow and it's way toocold to go outside, and the channels suck, and he's just tired of this crap. Hepulls out the battered copy of EthanFrome they're reading for English and props it open against his knees, witha sigh.

"Hey," Dean says. Sam looks up to find Dean watchinghim, frowning a little.

"What?" he says.

Dean opens his mouth, and then closes it again. Sam raiseshis eyebrows and Dean hesitates, and then just shakes his head and takes aswallow from the beer can. "Don't hog all the covers," he says,spreading out on the couch now that he's got the whole thing. "I don'twant to have to drop you into the snowdrift outside."

"Like you even could," Sam says, but under hisbreath. He finds where he left off reading and settles more firmly into theirtwo stolen pillows, trying to get comfortable. If Dean comes to bed, he's goingto have to wrestle Sam for them.

*

Sam comes awake all at once, interrupted from a weird dreamabout snow and sledding and his English teacher being his dad and Dean with a ruinedleg. He blinks into the pillow and wipes his mouth, disoriented and too-warm. There'sa bunch of noise—oh, the TV. Still on, and playing a too-loud commercial. Theblankets are pulled over him, somehow, his book tucked safely to the side, buthe's still wearing all his clothes. The little bedside alarm clock says it'sonly one in the morning, but still—

"Dean," he mumbles, and drags up onto one elbow.He knuckles some grit out of his eye, groggy. "Are you seriously stillwatching that crap?"

The lights are all off, but the TV's still bright and blue-white,flickery over the bare wall and couch and where Dean's slumped back, sprawledand shadowy. "You're supposed to be sleeping," he says, barelyaudible under the commercial chattering about dishsoap, or whatever it is.

"Well, I was,"Sam mutters, and sits up fully, pushing away the too-warm blankets. He pullsoff his socks and jeans and overshirt, so he's just in boxers and t-shirt, sweatclinging in his pits and the back of his neck. The apartment building hasreally good heating, which is—well, better than freezing, at least. His mouthis fuzzy, too-dry, and he stands up, stretching slowly, and takes a deep breathbefore he wrinkles his nose. "Dude," he says, "it reeks inhere."

He shuffles over to the tiny kitchenette on the far wall andfills a glass of water, while Dean softly laughs. A few gulps sink icy-colddown to his belly and he leans against the counter, wiping his eye again andchecking out the TV. Dean's practically horizontal, one leg up on the egg-crateand the other splayed wide on the floor, body half-hidden by the couch arm. Hedoesn't recognize the movie that's on now, although the acting's really bad.Par for the course with most movies Dean watches, really. He sniffs again."Seriously, what is that,"he says, "did you eat super bad Chinese while I was asleep orsomething?"

Dean lets out a low chuckle. "Sammy, you're not exactlya party kid, are you," he says, lazy, and then he picks up—oh. A red glow betweenhis fingers as he takes a drag and holds it, and then a slow plume of smoke ashe exhales, and Sam knows what cigarettes smell like and this isn't it.

He licks his lips. "Is that—um." He feels off-balance,suddenly, and weird. "Is that marijuana?"

Dean laughs, again, and Sam feels the blush rushing up tohis cheeks again. He's sixteen, damn it, but sometimes Dean makes him feelabout five years old. "Weed, Sammy," he says, and tips his head backagainst the couch. In the blue flicker of the TV Sam can see he's smiling, hiseyes closed, and it doesn't look like he's teasing.

"Dad's gonna kill you," Sam says, after a minute,and then when Dean just laughs again: "Where did you even get it?"

"Miranda, from work," Dean says, over-enunciating sothe k comes out all hard.

Sam rolls his eyes. He's had to hear a lot about the wonderful and hot Miranda, the checkout girl at thehardware store where Dean's picking up some hours. He comes closer, says,"You better not burn the apartment down, jerk," and Dean's grin justgets wider and then Sam blinks, standing right next to the couch, because—becauseDean's jeans are open, and he's got his hand tucked into them, and he's—he's touching himself, with Sam right here.

The blood floods into Sam's face and the awkward twist in hisbelly nearly doubles him over. They don't—do this. "Dude," Sam says,faintly, horribly aware of his own skin, goosebumps rippling weirdly under hisboxers and thin t-shirt, and Dean just hums, takes another drag off of thejoint held careful between two fingers and drops it onto the plate next to himon the couch, a makeshift ashtray. His right hand moves, a slow rub, and Sam'slips part, dry.

"Oh, this part's hilarious," Dean says, liftinghis head up with some effort, and apparently the movie's still playing, something'shappening on the screen. The colors flicker to yellow and green and Dean's litup, smiling, his eyes heavy, his hand still rubbing down below. Like Sam's noteven standing there, like they're in some strange alternate dimension where thesethings don't matter. The smell's so strong, skunky and thick in the back ofSam's throat, and he swallows.

When he sits down on the other side of the couch, Dean tipshis head to one side and smiles at him. "Not gonna narc on me, right?"he says.

His eyes are half-lidded, dark and unreadable, but he looks—purelyrelaxed. The thing Sam hates most about their life is the edge of it. Neverknowing if Dad's going to come home, if there's going to be some bloody finalaccident. Dean puts on a good show, most of the time, but Sam was eight when helearned better and every year it's just gotten more clear. The way Dean keepsan eye on the phone, on the door. The way he looks after the guns almostobsessively, the way he rides Sam on PT even when Dad's not around. Right now, he'sjust… loose. Open and easy and fine,no tension in his body even with a shotgun hidden under the couch. "No,"Sam says, finally. "No, I won't say anything."

Dean's eyes crinkle when his grin gets that wide."That's my boy," he says, not half-mocking like he usually is, and spreadshis knees wider, his one foot dropping down from the egg-crate so he's spreadout, open, thighs wide so Sam can see everything.

Sam takes a deep breath. He's almost used to the smell, now.The TV switches to commercial, again, and it's one of those gross Girls GoneWild ads, drunk chicks who probably aren’t even as old as Dean, flashing theirboobs at the camera. His lip curls, reflexively, but Dean groans next to him,and his eyes snap to his left to see Dean shift his hips, lifting up againsthis hand briefly with a flex of his ass and thighs, his forearm working. Oh,god. "God," Dean says, with a sigh, and licks his lips so they shine."There's a dream-job."

His left hand slides down, too, slipping down into hisboxers, and Sam realizes he's just breathing open-mouthed and staring, like aweirdo. He swallows, and says, "You think they've got a big ghost problemin Miami?" Dean frowns, looks at him. "You could do both—big herohunter and boob-wrangler."

That gets a bark of real laughter, Dean flat-out gigglingall high and breathy. "Boob-wrangler!" he repeats, voice juddering,and Sam can't help but grin. "Oh, man." His eyes lock back onto theTV—this is one of those long commercials, little fake interviews and squealinganswers, goofy censor bars so no nipples show. There's plenty of bounce, though.

Dean groans, again, and his hand slides in a slow twist, andthat's a real jerk-off motion, that's actually happening, right next to Sam onthe couch. He bites his lip and watches Dean do it again, hips languorouslyshifting, and finally he drops his hand down to his own crotch where his dick'swell past half-mast, rising up against the thin fabric of his boxers. Heflattens his palm and presses himself down against his own thigh, trying tohide it, but even high Dean catches the motion out of the corner of his eye. Helaughs, again, soft, and Sam closes his eyes in mortification. "Thoughtyou were too much of a prude for this stuff," Dean says, and Sam shakeshis head, can't say anything.

More squealing, from the TV, and it really, truly doesn't doanything for Sam. Maybe if it were muted. There's a rustle, the couch's deepsprings popping as Dean shifts, and then a long sigh and Dean says, "Oh,better," and Sam forces his eyes open to see—oh, fuck. Dean's shoved his jeansand boxers down to his knees, and it's just the stretch of bare white thighs,muscled and smooth since he's barely got any hair, and now Sam can see—god, everything,his dick standing up and his balls cupped in his left hand while he reaches forthe joint, still smoldering on the plate between them. "Want to try?"Dean says, waving it vaguely, and Sam shakes his head, mutely. Dean grins athim, nothing but fond. "Good," he says, and takes a last long drag,holding it and huffing little sips of choked air before the smoke purls outfrom his nose like a cartoon dragon. "Just say no, Sammy."

Sam huffs. "Idiot," he mumbles, and Dean drops theburned up end down to the plate and flips him off, cheerful and lazy. He lickshis hand and drops it back to his dick, massaging himself at the base. There'sa bit of shine at the head, gleaming in the TV-light, and Sam's mouth floodswith spit. God. His own dick throbs, warm and stiff through the cotton underhis palm, and he swallows and licks the corner of his mouth and slips his handunder the too-big leg of his shorts, takes himself in his sweaty grip. Fuck—he hitchesa noise, deep in his chest, but Dean doesn't seem to notice. The commercial'sover, finally, and they're back to the movie. Some big blond guy and a dark-hairedwoman arguing about something, and Dean sighs, licking his lips again anddragging his thumb up the back of his dick, rubbing. Sam can't believe this ishappening. He has fucking school in—god,like six hours, but he's not stopping, can't stop. Dean's dick is… big. Samdoesn't know if it's bigger than his, but he thinks so, maybe. His ballsdefinitely are, from what he can see while Dean rolls them idly, eyes on thetelevision. Sam bites his lips between his teeth and drags his left leg up,blocking himself a little in case Dean looks over, and then pulls himself outthrough the slit in his boxers, bolsters his dick up in his palm so it'ssitting high, just like Dean's is. He's not even looking out of the corner ofhis eye, now, just staring, while Dean squeezes himself at the base again andthen drags up, slow, not even trying to get himself off—and Sam copies it,hot-eyed, breathing too fast. Dean shifts his legs, spreads them a little more,and presses—lower, makes a low pleased hum deep in his chest, and Sam copiesthat, too, slipping his fingers down below his balls and pushing two against themuscle there, a deep thrum of pleasure surging right up to the head of hisdick.

"Oh, god," he breathes, squeezing himself too-tightaround the base, and Dean tips his head over again and blinks at him. Samstares back, mouth open, his stomach churning. "Oh, god."

"Hey," Dean says, smiling, and shifts a little,pulls his hand away from his dick to lean his elbow on the back of the couch.It twists his body a little, his dick falling to land heavy on the muscle ofhis thigh, his t-shirt pulling up so Sam can see flat golden belly. "Nobig deal, huh? It's hot, right?"

Hot—Dean nods at the TV, and oh, the muscle dude and thestarlet are making out, now, transitioning to one of those awkward soft-coresex scenes, saxophone and soft drums, and Sam nods, wordless, eyes jumping backto Dean's face and then to his crotch, where he hasn't softened, not at all.Sam wants—fuck, he wants to lean over there and touch it. He wants that… badly,to get his hand around Dean and feel how he's different, or maybe how he's thesame, to cup his balls and test the weight, to feel the heat of his skin, tastehim. Dean's attention is caught as the actress sighs out a little moan, and hishand drifts back to his dick, and instantly Sam imagines it on him—big andcapable, a little rough like Dean can be sometimes when he claps Sam on theshoulder or smacks the back of his head, heavy and warm like he is when theyspar, and Sam's jerking himself for real, now, tension coiling up in the baseof his belly, watching Dean sigh and squeeze himself and melt into the couch, andSam scrunches his eyes closed and imagines, imagines crawling over there and gettingbetween Dean's sprawled-apart legs and shoving their dicks up together, and maybeDean would grin at him again, would say something like want to try something, Sammy? with his voice all slow and lazy, andmaybe, maybe Sam would say shut upand maybe then he'd lean in, and Dean would smile, and Sam would kiss him—

Oh, fuck, that's—Sam jerks, hips surging up in tight littlemotions, coming and spilling all over his boxers, his thighs. He cups his lefthand over so he doesn't mess the couch and his chest heaves with it, his lips bittentight between his teeth with the long habit of keeping absolutely silent. God.His balls pulse and he drops his head back on his shoulders, letting theripples shudder through him. He hasn't come that hard in… ever. He licks hislips, runs his tongue over the teeth-dents, and when he opens his eyes Dean is…

His hand's still cupped loose around his dick, his head slumpedand tipped against the couch back, his eyes closed. His mouth, a little shinystill, parted and loose, his chest rising slow and steady under the blackt-shirt, the amulet he never takes off. Asleep. Sam wipes his hands off on hisboxers, as best he can so his hands aren't totally disgusting, and moves theashtray-plate over to the eggcrate next to the empty beer cans. Finds the remoteand turns the volume way, way down, but leaves the TV on for the light. Somedaylight scene, now, so white spills out into the room, leaves a pool of brightand shadow that highlights Dean's cheekbone, his mouth, the dark of his eyelashes.The fine golden hair on his arm, sparse on his thigh. The pink rounded head ofhis dick. Sam swallows, and reaches out—and closes his hand on empty air, andpulls his fist back to his chest. Puts his hand over his eyes.

There's two blankets on the bed and the heater's workingovertime. He pulls the top one off, the nice one without any stains, and drapesit carefully over Dean's body, covering where he's bare. There's a soft noise, barelya sound at all, and Dean rubs his face gently against the back of the couch,snuggling in. He's going to have corduroy-stripes on his cheek, when he wakes up.Sam stands there and stares at him, for a second, and for no reason at all hiseyes heat up and the room goes blurry. He turns away. Strips off his gross wetboxers and stuffs them deep in the laundry bag, pulls on a fresh-ish pair.Folds himself into the empty bed. He wonders if Dean will remember this—but hesqueezes his eyes shut tight and pushes his face into the pillow and breathesdeep. It doesn't matter. The alarm's set to go off in like five hours, and he'sgot school to get to, in the morning.

[stevesharrlngtons]

hey.

steve harrington x reader

summary: he was such a staple piece in your life, that as a child and young teen, you never saw your life without him. late night promises and pinky swears were made in blanket forts that you two would be friends until the day the sun burned out in the sky. it was just a given that’d he be there, that you never worried about the two of you drifting apart or being separated. he promised he’d always be there, and you had believed him. you now corrected yourself, foolishly believed him.

word count: 3.2k 

a/n: oops dont hate me!

chapter i / ii / iii / iv / v / vi / viii

                                                      chapter vii

You woke up to the feeling of fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. As you came too, you felt a heavy arm draped across your waist and a chest pressed lightly to yours. Already knowing who it was, you smiled.

“Morning.” Steve said in a sleepy voice.

You opened your eyes to see Steve hovering over you, with a loose smile and slightly squinted eyes.

“Hi.” You spoke blissfully, moving your stiff arms up from under the blankets to wrap around his neck.

“How’d you sleep?” Steve asked, still playing with your hair.

“Really well.”

“Me too.”

You bit your lip as you looked at him. You ran your fingers over the nape of his neck, a weakness of his you learned the night before, and he hummed above you.

“What time is it?”

“One pm.”

You let out a small laugh, “Did we seriously sleep all day?”

“We were up until four or five, it makes sense.” He pointed out.

You shook your head, amused at his tone. When you stilled you just looked at him above you, bathed in the afternoon sun and smelling of musk and chlorine. You leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his lips. It felt like the only kiss to give when you were both so sleepy, warm and fragile.

When you pulled away he sighed contently.

“Can I just say how much I love that I can do this anytime I want now?” Steve said, placing another light kiss on your lips.

“I know the feeling.” You said, rubbing his shoulder gently.

“You still sure about waiting the weekend? Or did you sleep that off?” Steve asked playfully.

“Still sure, sorry Harrington.”

Steve fell dramatically to your neck and you chuckled as he burrowed into your chest. He glanced up and silently admired his work on your collar bones and throat from the night before.

“You hungry?” He asked as his fingers ghosted over a small purple mark by your chin.

“Starving.”

“Then let’s go have some brunch.”

Climbing out of the warm cocoon of blankets and Steve’s arms, you both walked down the stairs and into his kitchen. He made you pancakes as you sat on the cold marble countertop, the harsh sensation causing goose bumps to raise on the backs of your thighs. You watched the planes of his back tense and shift as he prepared your food. Your eyes wandered his half-dressed body walk around his kitchen for your viewing pleasure.

The reality of all of this hadn’t set in yet. The conversation to be had Monday, the stares and rumors from your classmates, the unavoidable bumps in the road that would arise.

Those thoughts weren't for now. Now was strawberries and cream, syrup on his chin that you licked off with a giggle. The sun warming the two of you as you sat by his large windows, your chairs pushed together to make a bench. Steve’s hand holding his fork and the other holding your thigh. This time was just for the bliss of being together. Reality was for later.

“I don’t want you to leave, isn’t that enough?” Steve said, taking your hands in his after you set your things in the trunk of your car.

Brunch had led into the early evening, so the sun rays were now more orange than bright yellowy white like that had been.

“I want to, too. But I just… I really want us to have these two days. To just process everything and collect our thoughts. Then Monday, we can figure everything out, okay? Good or bad.”

Steve furrowed his brows, looking at your connected hands, he reluctantly nodded. He wanted desperately to ask you if you were having seconds thoughts, but if you were, he couldn’t bare to know yet. He was on cloud nine and he would refuse to come down.

“Well call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll be here.” Steve finally looked up at you with large eyes.

“Of course, and same with me. I’ll just be home.” You said reassuringly.

You both looked at each other with wide eyes. Steve’s were more sad, while yours were more hopeful.

“Don’t go.” He whispered to you, moving his hands to your cheeks, placing a wistful kiss on your lips.

You deepened the initial kiss, a parting gift for not only him, but yourself as well.

“Monday. My house, okay?” You pulled away just enough to speak.

Your breath hit Steve’s lips and he wished that he could keep you there forever.

But he couldn’t.

“Monday. Your house.” He repeated with a small jerk of his head.

A sad smile pulled at your lips and you placed one last kiss on his lips before climbing into your car and heading home. You refused to look back at Steve, but if you had, you would have seen him slowly follow your car into the street, watching it until it disappeared.

The remaining hours of Saturday were spent sleeping and softly touching your lips, still unsure if Steve had pressed his deliciously rough ones to yours or if it had all been a dream.  You almost hesitated brushing your teeth that night or eating anything for the rest of the day, terrified you’d lose the taste of him on your tongue. You could still feel his hands on your skin and his breath on your neck that made you shiver.

You had seconds thoughts about the separation period, but you knew it was for the best. So much had been happening, you both needed some time to think and decompress, alone. You knew your feelings for Steve wouldn’t change over the weekend, they would probably even grow with longing since he wasn’t by your side. But you didn’t know if your desire to be in a relationship with him would stay. You had been torn and broken apart many times, and you just weren’t sure if it was worth it to be put in a position where that could happen again. You trusted Steve, but he had done this once before. Can people truly change for the better? Or are they all just putting on masks trick us into forgiving?

Those were your most contemplated questions Saturday and Sunday. As you sat at your kitchen table Sunday evening, you were no closer to a decision than the day before. A cigarette burned between your fingers and a cup of Chamomile tea sat in front of you. The sun was beginning to set again, and all you could think about was how twenty-four hours earlier, you were with Steve. You tried to pinpoint what you were doing with him that exact minute as the clock ticked around you. Your thoughts were broken by a scuffle at the door, then the lock being turned.

“Hello?” Your mother’s loud voice billowed into the house, guessing you were in your room and not at the table.

“Oh hi, sweetheart.” She greeted when she saw you at the table.

She set her bags down and approached you. Instead of hugging her, you offered her a smile and pushed the pack of cigarettes towards her.

“Oh no, what happened?” Your mother asked, smile falling.

This was code between the two of you that you needed to talk.

“A lot.” You sighed.

“Let me put my bags upstairs and I’ll be right back down, okay?” She spoke calmly.

You nodded, and she scurried off to her room. You continued to smoke and take small sips of tea until your mother returned, sans-suitcases and in a pair of old sweatpants.

“What’s ailing you?” She asked, sitting across from you, taking a cigarette and lighting it all in a fluid movement.

“Steve.” You said flatly, ashing your cigarette.

“Color me surprised.” She drawled, which earned her a sharp look from you.

“Sorry, sorry,” She put her hands up in defeat, “So what happened?”

“Well, we weren’t just friends. You were right about that…” You shook your head slowly, thinking back to the pool.

“We started talking about stuff and I don’t know, we just kissed, and I panicked.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just, you know…” You shrugged, busing yourself with playing with your filter of creating a sentence.

“I kind of doubt.” She chuckled lightly.

“He, I don’t know. I have really, really strong feelings for him. And have for since we were kids. But…” You trailed off.

“But?”

“He broke my heart. He did, we can’t forget that. He says he wants this, us, whatever. But how can I be sure he won’t leave again? How can I be sure he really loves me?” Your eyes were starting to glaze over and your throat was becoming constricted.

“I just, have really bad luck it seems. Dad, Perry, Steve, Jonathan, literally any guy who I date. It all ends in flames. What if it’s me? What if I’m the reason they run?”

Finally, the thought you’d been keeping at bay for years erupted from your mouth. You refused to look at your mother as you spoke, utterly ashamed and embarrassed by your words.

“(Y/N), hey. You don’t really think that, do you sweetheart?” Your mothers concerned voice asked.

You just shrugged, hunching your back and looking at the smoke coming from your cigarette.

“Can you look at me? I really need you to hear what I’m about to say, so please look at me.” She spoke with conviction.

You slowly looked up at her, her eyes bore into you, making you slightly uncomfortable under her instance stare.

“That is, completely, utterly, and fully untrue. I can promise you that. Your father is a selfish man who cares for no one but himself. Your brother was a confused young boy who wanted to appease your father. Jonathan is a teenage boy desperate for a first love, and Steve has figured out everything he let go. You are the best woman to enter any of those men’s lives. And it’s on them that they don’t get to know you, to love you, to be around. You make anyone’s life better by being in it, I know from experience.”

Tear pooled in your eyes as you listened to her speak. You knew she was mostly right, but you still had your apprehensions.

“I guess I’m just scared…” You trailed off, giving a small sad laugh.

“Letting people in is scary, trusting people is scary, relationships are scary. But what are we without them? Alone. And you are far too amazing to be alone. Sometimes you just have to take a leap, and just hope it works out.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“Then at least you tried. And I don’t think you’d regret trying with Steve.” She explained.

“But what if I do?”

“What if you don’t?”

You had taken your mother's words to heart. She was right, like you stubbornly admitted she always was. You wanted to be with Steve, and if your time together had been any testament, he did too. The boy who had clouded your dreams and held your hand since you were a child could possible be the man you were supposed to end up with. And how romantic would that be? It would finally be a romance like depicted in the movies.

You were finally letting all your feelings for Steve come in, every single one you had try to forget or repress. Every fleeting look you sent him and every longing thought that had traipsed through your mind, everything. Every time a new memory came over you, a nervous fear settled in your stomach, but you weren’t letting it dictate your life anymore. You were tired of running, tired of denying your feelings and keeping people at arm’s length.

You debated on calling Steve that night. Saying fuck it to the rules you had set, just so you could shout from the rooftops with him that you were in love. But you restrained yourself. Just because you were done sorting through your feelings, didn’t necessarily mean Steve was too. You wanted to give him more than enough time to figure out how he felt about you, whether it be good or bad. He deserved that. He deserved to be with someone he didn’t feel obligated or forced to be with. He deserved someone he could trust and love forever. And you just really hoped that it was you.

The next day, you anxiously waited for Steve’s car to pull up to your house. You weren’t sure if you both would see each other and rush into the other’s arms and decide to skip school altogether, or have a calm and civil conversation in the parking lot. Either way, your nerves were getting the best of you. You restlessly bounced your leg as you watched the clock tick further and further away from the time Steve was always at your house.

Irrational thoughts started to swarm your mind.

What if the Demogorgon was back?

What if he got into a car crash?

What if he was at the store buying you flowers and the place got robbed?

What if he was ditching you, after all?

But you had no more time to wallow in fear, because school started in seven minutes, which barley gave you enough time to get there. You grabbed your car keys and walked angrily outside. Steve was right when he said that your car took forever to heat up, but today you didn’t have the luxury of waiting. So, you placed your hands on the freezing steering wheel and let the car stutter to life.

You refused to think about anymore horrible outcomes as to why Steve hadn’t picked you up while you drove. Cherie Currie’s voice drowned out your pessimistic side and you paid all your attention for searching for Steve’s car in the parking lot. You were almost surprised when you saw the shiny BMW already in the front row of spaces. Now the thoughts were fighting through your music and surfacing again.

Why the actual hell had he ditched you?

You parked a few rows back and started to approach Steve’s car. You could see the back of his fluffy brunette hair through the driver’s side window. He seemed to be talking to someone, but you weren’t close enough to see a face, until Steve turned to face forward, his profile breaking out into a smile, and your breath caught in your chest. And not in the usual way your breath caught when Steve laughed. Your lungs felt like they were collapsing as you saw Nancy Wheeler beaming at Steve from the passenger’s seat. You watched as Steve looked back over at her and moved his hand to place on her cheek.

You actually had a moment where your knees felt like giving out and you felt an actual tangible sadness settle over your heart. You thought maybe it was just a horrible dream, that you were just nervous about seeing Steve and this nightmare was just really realistic. But as the wind hit your face and the loud school bell rang, you knew this was reality. And when you watched Nancy’s small hand be placed on Steve’s neck you turned around quickly.

You’d seen enough.

This wasn’t friendly laughs and platonic touches. They just weren’t.

Tears pricked your eyes as you turned around and walked back to your car. School meant nothing to you today, if you had to see either of them in the halls or wrapped in the others embrace, you were sure you would vomit. You cranked your music loud again, but this time, indulged every thought you had about Steve. Hate, anger, regret and embarrassment radiated off of you in waves as you drove hastily and recklessly from the school and back home.

You had been fucking right the entire time! You had been willing to change, to let Steve in. But no, everyone always had to prove you wrong.

Your mother was both wrong and right in this moment. Steve had surprised you after all, but you did regret ever setting yourself up for this failure.

You had decided to ditch school the rest of the week. When your mother had seen your tear streaked face and heard your hiccupped cries, she made no attempt to fight you to attend school even though you already had horrible attendance. If the phone rang, you never answered it. Sometimes your mother would, and sometimes you both would just let it ring. You had tried to call Jonathan on Tuesday, still mad at him for avoiding you, but at the same time, worried for his undoubtedly broken heart. But there was no answer, not even from Bob. You had debated going to the Byers’ to check up on him, but your stubbornness got the best of you.

He hasn’t even called once since the party! He doesn’t care, no one does, apparently.

You mostly stayed in bed and lived off of cigarettes and Red Vines. You mother would worriedly check in on you, but for the most part, she left you alone. She wasn’t entirely sure how to console you, so she let you lick your wounds in peace.  

Steve crossed your mind regularly, and the feelings of regret and sadness came soon after. You had wished that maybe you had just seen a moment between him and Nancy out of context. But between no calls or making an effort to see you, you knew it was time to cut all the strings that held out any hope that Steve Harrington was ever in love with you, or even ever wanted a friendship with you again.

You wondered if this is how Holly felt when Paul gave her the engagement ring and fled the cab in the pouring rain? But it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was you were now Holly without Paul, again. A mystery and a mirage no man could ever sink his hooks into. Your steely demeanor was returning, and all you wanted to do was forget everything that had ever caused you any pain. You finally got up from your bed, taking a silent still minute for your head rush to wear off, then headed for your closet. In the back corner, underneath your jeans and next to your shoes, was a memory box. There wasn’t much in there, but the box still held small moment and souvenirs from your life. You took out the box, pushing past the Prince ticket stub and pictures from Disneyland, to find a salt packet with ten numbers and a name written in chicken scratch above it.

You immediately discarded the box and ran down stairs to use the phone. You held the packet in your fingers and dialed the number, flipping it over when it started to ring.

Hawkins’ Dairy Freeze

“Hello?”

“Hey, Derek? It’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You spoke into the receiver, fiddling with the long spiraled cord as you spoke.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” Derek drawled, “I thought I’d never hear from you again.”

“Well you’re hearing from me now.” You tried for it not to come off as a snap, but it did.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, you could practically see his smug expression.

“You still have parties every Friday?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’re having one tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“You still at 61st and Pike?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, I’ll be there in twenty.”

[firebirdsdaughter]

Okay...

Finally sitting down to watch Zi-O ep 4...

Let’s game?

Well, no, actually no, we won’t, but I was trying to be thematic.

And in no particular order:

Okay, that explains it. When I saw the preview images it looked like they were talking to Emu, and then Geiz and Sougo both henshined and took a knee for some reason. It’s actually the other way round.

Geez, Emu. Since when were you this uncommunicative and unhelpful? That’s Taiga’s job!

Like seriously, you know these two are Kamen Riders. Just explain yourself to them instead of making weird vague statements.

Geiz at it again w/ the grump. Have I mentioned--you know where that’s going.

Tsukuyomi w/ the intercede again. I’m liking this trio.

Okay, I wanna know who Goggles is. The guy whose hand Geiz was holding in that future-flashback? A friend? Brother? This being Toei it’s unlikely to be a boyfriend, but it’s still possible. He looks like he mighta been a nice fellow, I’m sorry he died.

I guess this is a lot to take in, and Sougo is generally pretty slow on the uptake, it appears, so... But looks like he’s getting it now.

Tsukuyomi, I really hope you’re aware just how much of a problem child you just decided to adopt.

I actually agree w/ someone else I saw, I think. I kinda wish they would give her a better reason than ‘I don’t know’ for this. Like, I’m liking the idea that she doesn’t want her childhood friend to technically become a murderer by killing someone who is, at that point, still innocent, but this ‘I don’t know’ thing is kinda... meh to me. It doesn’t feel touching or sweet, and is even kinda out of character... But that’s just me. She’s super great, but she otherwise seems so decisive and confident that it’s a little odd.

OH MY GOD IT’S THAT CHURCH! I mean--it’s that wizard Bugster!

Fun fact, that Church is not just a Toei set. I have seen it in about FIVE other shows I think (don’t ask me to name them all, I can’t--but Kaname Jun was in one I think)

AH! Brave is here! But it’s back in 2016, episode... 2? Or maybe 3, but it would be when Hiiro literally just got there, so he’s still an ass. I mean, I still love him. But he was an ass.

Geiz, mister straight forward, just fucking informs them he’s from the future, I love him.

Maybe this has something to do w/ Hiiro’s sense that he should help them before... Aside from grumpy secondary solidarity, ofc.

‘From your perspective,’ Geiz, you are literally from 2068. I’m pretty sure, excepting folks from 2069 onward, that that’s the future from everyone’s perspective.

Also, to get this out of the way: AAAAAAH! SETO IS SO PRETTY! OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH EVEN WHEN HE’S A DICK! AND ESPECIALLY WHEN HE’S NOT!

Note: I don’t love him because he’s a dick, but what I love is grumpy, pretty much jerky characters who come out of that bc they start caring about someone or something (again, in Hiiro’s case). Did that make sense?

Also, I’m actually giggling bc of how much of a pompous ass my grumpy surgeon son was. The fact that this is literally like, right after he first showed up, means that he’s at peak dickishness and it’s really funny to look back.

Kids pulling on Geiz. God, honey, what were you expecting when you put that thing on? Well, at least they’re aware of how goofy it is.

On that note, ARE WE EVER GONNA SEE YOU WITHOUT IT?

Also, dear god, someone get this boy some fashion advice. I’ve SEEN that preview image sweetie. You canNOT dress yourself.

Oh my god, it’s the hospital helipad. Now I’m nostalgic.

Okay. Emu can teleport to game worlds now? Al... Alright then. You know what, whatever.

And Emu’s getting thrown around again. Some things never change. What’s still funny about this is still that Ijima Hiroki is (still) not a short man. He’s 5′ 10″. This, to me, makes how much Emu get’s thrown around utterly hilarious.

See, Emu. This is what happens when you don’t pull a Taiga, and discuss things w/ people. You’re the one who forced Hiiro to learn that, why are you doing it?

Aw, Sougo appreciates that Tsukuyomi is trying to save the future w/out killing him. Good kids.

Where’s that B99 ‘cool motive still murder’ picture? I mean, I know it’s a kid. But dude... You don’t have the right to other people’s lives (or body parts) just bc your son is dying.

Hm... I know people are thinking it’s named after Hiiro, but... What if it’s named after his dad? I mean, Kagami Haima was the director of the hospital, he had to start somewhere. To me that feels more logical? Bc it’s only been two years since Ex-Aid, that’s awfully fast to name a medical procedure... But it’s just a thought.

You know what, I bet Hiiro feels bad for brushing Geiz off in the past, so now he’s like ‘I must do everything I can to help these kids out bc when I met them before I was a jerk.’ Part of his ‘stop being an anti-social grump’ attempt. And he’s worried about Emu.

Does the Time Majin have an AI? How did it know to fly up to the roof right then? Is it telepathically connected to Sougo now?

So Uhr is helping Ora/Hora out? Maybe there is hope for a villain-family dynamic after all...

Also apparently that’s Takeru’s mech? Takeru has a mech? I really need to finish Ghost... But it’s either just for the sake of cameo, or it’s related to how Geiz got the Ghost Ride Watch. Now I’m wondering if he maybe stole the Drive and Ghost Watches from the Time Jackers? But if that’s the case, why did they have them? They usually use the Another Rider Watches...? Are Takeru and Shinnosuke okay? Oh my god, did Takeru die again? Actually, I guess Shinnoksuke also died a lot in that one movie so... Oh dear.

Is Sougo transforming in tiny spaces gonna be a thing now?

Come to think... Since the opening, we haven’t seen Woz. What’s prophet boy up to?

This tiny gremlin child who I adore and want to pinch the cheeks of just giggling to himself in his busted mech like a five year old.

Sorry, Geiz, you can’t beat the bounce.

Sougo just fucking slams this thing w/ the Time Majin.

And so, the path toward very reluctant and at first very awkward friendship begins. Let’s a-go kids!

But also god that boy is skinny. Honey, do you even HAVE hips? Are you okay?

Geiz is having feelings but is very confused right now. Punching things is generally a good venting method.

And the boys are still very bad at not being good at teamwork. Like, they’re already synchronising in pretty much every fight they’ve been in--not just in henshins but in attacks and so on.

Emu that looks NOTHING LIKE YOU, WHY would you call it a doppelgänger.

Since this is after Hiiro first showed up, it means that the two of them still don’t like each other (bc it took them a while to get there), so I’m not surprised that he wouldn’t call Hiiro immediately if something came up. Plus this may not show up bc CR relied on reports by witnesses and were in an abandoned warehouse. But then why is Emu...? Oh, I don’t know.

Was his henshin really always that deep?

Oh! There he is! Woz! I was wondering where you were! So, uh... Where were you?

Geiz: ‘Oh no, not again!’

Wow, he did the hoppity hop thing!

HE HAS GIANT BUMPS ON HIS ARMS! I LOVE THE GIANT BUMPERS ON HIS ARMS!

(I think they’re meant to be buttons?)

Aaaaand, right on cue, there Woz goes again.

Emu just like ‘okay then, let’s roll w/ this then, I guess!’

Wait, but the Brave and Snipe (and Genm, and then there’s Para-DX, and Poppy, and Cronus... Though I guess those last ones may not end up existing since they’re post-this?) Watches don’t seem to be in-show, so... Does that mean that Hiiro and Taiga keep their powers? Bc there was a Crozz-Z Ride Watch, so I now understand Ryuuga losing his, but there were so many Riders in Ex-Aid... Though maybe there’s a whole butterfly thing that simply by removing the primary everything is effected. Bc if you had to account for each individual Rider... Imagine how complex and difficult shows like Ryuki and Gaim would be to explain/sort through.

Hiroki has such a nice smile. Actually, pretty much everyone is Ex-Aid had a nice smile when they smiled.

Oh, god, yes. I really hope that the Rider trying to teach Sougo how to do the finisher in some way (miming for Emu, explaining for Sento) is a thing every time... Though I guess since they couldn’t get Gentaro we won’t get to see him do it... But maybe Takumi will? (I’ve never actually watched Faiz, so I have no idea what the finisher looks like)

Oh, hey. When Sougo hits him it says it in... Kanji, I think? But in Japanese characters of some kind instead of English.

ATTACK OF THE SUBTITLES!

Geiz standing of to the side trying to act cool while these two dorks help this man up.

... He’s wearing socks and... You know what, this is Japan. They’re probably his shoes for inside, and because he was running out to the ambulance with his dying son, he didn’t bother to change.

I love how Emu is like ‘who could we possibly... OH! That asshole!’ (again bc this is the very early season, back hen we didn’t like each other)

HE SAID IT! I guess they cut away so Seto didn’t actually have to eat the cake. Apparent he doesn’t actually like sweets? Maybe bc he’s such a sweetie. ^^

I really love it when the ones playing the ‘serious grumps’ are really adorably dorky and super nice. Like apparently, Seto was the funny and fun one, which I find so cute and hilarious.

Sougo here, getting into the groove of things during his second rodeo.

Emu’s like ‘are you two together?’ and Geiz is like ‘someone shoot me.’

Awwww. Of course Hiiro saved him. Though they haven’t shown us anything yet... So, maybe, even in the altered timeline, he and Emu still ends dup becoming close somehow? Can I pretend that’s the case? Seriously, Hiiro needs that kid. Otherwise he’s just gonna continue forgetting how to be human.

Why do you need another plate? But I think it’s cute how Junichiro is making so much food. I wonder if it’ll be like Mario in Zyuohger, where when he find out (if he doesn’t already know) he decides to just make life at the shop as homey as possible.

Geiz, maybe you should start using his name? Just to, you know, keep Uncle from getting suspicious?

ALSO WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WEARING WHY... I just can’t anymore. I love my dorky fashion disaster assassin son.

Here we are w/ the intense staring again. Wouldn’t be KR w/out it.

Geiz and Tsukuyomi be like ‘wow no pressure.’ Seriously, Geiz looks like he’s having a small panic attack back there.

He looks very pretty, though.

Aw, they’re keeping their Ride Watches together!

Well, there’s clearly a friendship theme, so I’m hoping there’s a level of deepening the bonds that just started forming in this episode. Unfortunately, I know nothing about Faiz other than apparently Kaixa is a horrible person (given that the preview images imply he’s strangling some poor girl, I am inclined to agree), so I can’t make any guesses there.

All I ask for Christmas is ONE episode where Geiz doesn’t wear that damn collar thing. I know it’s only been four eps but just ONE.

And, in final news, looks like they’re switching the Watches around.

Okay! Well, that's that for now. Now, my head hurts and I still want pizza, so... Not much else to say. Imaginary pizza for anyone who read all of this, you really didn’t need to do that.

I’m gonna pretend Hiiro and Emu are still friends somehow. Having a good time here, looks like we’re looking at another solid trio and I love it. Also, w/ OOO and Ghost apparently coming up... Good times.

[iknownothingihearnothing]

BoJack Horseman: 5.1 “The Lightbulb Scene”

I’ve been busy the past few days watching and rewatching the latest season of BoJack Horseman to properly recap it for you all and because BoJack is AWSHUM. Seriously, it is one of the best shows on Netflix and that is saying something because Netflix is stuffed with content for our eyeballs. Like whoa.

As I write this, they are likely releasing three new shows and two movies. Netflix has money to spend and spending it they are. Like a drunk lottery winner. 

I love BoJack Horseman. It deals with heavy topics such as depression, anxiety, miscarriage, and divorce. If performed by real people, all of this would be unbearable. But because these are anthropomorphic animals mixed with cartoon humans, it’s delightful. 

BoJack is about an aging 90s sitcom star who gets everything he’s ever wanted but still hates himself. Oh, and he’s a horse. He’s a walking, talking horse who wears clothes. Come on, that’s funny.

He has a new show this year called Philbert, named after Princess Carolyn (henceforth referred to as PC) and Ralph’s sadly miscarried baby, Philbert. Which makes a lot of sense because her work is also her baby. In a depressing way.

A lot of BoJack makes sense in a depressing way. 

We open on Philbert’s Hollywood (excuse me, Hollywoo) set, where a bunch of fish ladies are synchronized swimming to a song about Los Ageless. 

(Like this but fishier.)

Inside, a femme fatale that is a lizard in lipstick shoots Philbert and when his blood pack doesn’t explode Flip, the show’s creator, calls cut. PC, who forged BoJack’s name last season on the Philbert contract to get him attached to the show, assures him he’s doing just great.

PC also crows about her producer credit. “I was watching you, which is all a producer does!”

Side-eyeing producer credits from now on, man.

What does that even MEAN?!

BoJack tries to get Flip’s attention but Flip blows him off. We pan to Mr. Peanutbutter, who is in crafty for some reason dressed as Julius Caesar, is in Warbler Brothers Studios pitching ideas to Flip. John Philbert’s house looks exactly like BoJack’s because Philbert needs to be “cut off from the rest of the world”.

...Oh I get it.

Oh, Angel. IDC what he does, he’ll always be Angel to me.

Later on, BoJack and his new costar, Gina, are hookin’ up, which is totes cool in the BoJack universe because animals know their own minds and are able to consent. It’s like Star Trek. Different species even have babehs. Somehow. When BoJack fails to “perform”, Gina’s about to leave when he asks her if she likes her character, who is, of course, named Sassy Malone. She does not. Sassy’s main characteristics are that she hates bras but loves cold rooms; she is mostly there for jerk off fodder. But she has a mortgage to pay. 

BoJack is lonely post Gina hookup and calls a sleepy Hollyhock at college who, if you remember from last season, was straight up poisoned repeatedly by Beatrice when she slipped her a Chub-B-Gone roofie in her coffee, sending her eight dads to Los Ageless in worry. 

At Tabbywood, PC’s abode, we are reintroduced to one of BoJack’s many in-universe gimmicks:

The actors are the same names: Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor blah blah boring. She should’ve been called Elizabeth Tail-or. Or Elizabeth Taylpurr. 

Yolanda wonders what Todd, who is now living with PC, will do all day on his butt when she’s at work. He is totally content to do nada and she is obviously not content to let him do nada so this will certainly be an issue going forward in their relationship. 

I forget what Yolanda is. I know she is from the ocean. Is she a sponge? A starfish? What? 

PC very sadly lost little Philbert last season so this year she has decided to adopt. Her adoption agent? Literal Mother Goose. After she signs over a 60K check, Mother Goose flies the coop--also literally--and leaves her in the lackadaisical hands of caretaker Tracy, who at first thinks she’s five months pregnant. 

Fun!

At the Warbler Brothers Studios, Flip and the casting director are searching for women, some human and some not, to play strippers in an upcoming scene. Three are human--one is either a ghost or a lady in a Burka with drawn on boobs, though I think it’s a Burka; it’s white though so I could be wrong--one is a frog in pearls, and the last is a giraffe whose head we don’t even see at first.

This is why I love BoJack. Who else would think of this shit?

BoJack himself knocks on the door and finally gets to speak to Flip. 

Also why I love BoJack. It unflinchingly and cacklingly points out blatant Hollywood hypocrisy. 

BoJack repeats Gina’s comment that the stripper scene where he as Philbert is sitting there drawing the girls is “gratuitous and male-gazey” and Flip cuts it in a totally not man baby “I’m always right” move. Instead, Flip has BoJack paint Gina naked instead. 

That didn’t exactly work out as planned.

At the Italian place, Todd’s old girlfriend, Emily, introduces her new firefighter boyfriend, Steve D’Mazio. As opposed to her old firefighter boyfriend, Steve D’Marco. Emily made an app specifically for firefighters to meet her.

I cannot throw a rock without hitting a Steve D’Mazio here. I went to high school with a bunch of Steve D’Mazios. 

Todd suggests making an app for asexual dating. Then explains to a confused Steve that not all asexuals are aromantic. Thus begins a convoluted explanation that very much confuses poor muscly Steve. His muscular everything else are bigger than his head. 

At the Philbert set, which of course looks just like BoJack’s house, BoJack begs Flip not to take out his aggression on Gina. He swears he isn’t, we know he is a lying douchebag, and Gina mumbles something about going to crafty to get potatoes.

She’ll need all that starch to get through those unnecessary nude scenes.

Todd and Yolanda revisit their conversation about how he’s a do-nothing slouch, so he decides to get a job. BoJack is there, all ready to confront PC. He has a spinny chair and everything, all Dr. Evil.

But it’s only Todd who wants a job. They find a listing for a janitorial position at WhatTimeIsItNow.com, the same media outlet that produces Philbert. BoJack has an Aha! moment.

He suggests Todd apply for the position and leave an anonymous note to Flip threatening to stop all nude scenes OR ELSE!

Of course Todd, who has the best luck ever, is way too overqualified to be a janitor and immediately becomes President of Streaming Content.

He will not abuse his AUTHORITAH by ordering Flip around, no sir. 

Fed up, our intrepid equine hero approaches Flip himself. He won’t do the nude scene. Flip snivels that he is his god now and BoJack will do what he says because he signed a contract (not really) so if Flip wants him to learn Korean, he will learn Korean. If Flip wants him to walk around with shit in his pants, he will have shit in his pants. Or he’ll sue his ass. 

Ew. Mark Schwahn, is that you?

If you have not read about One Tree Hill and The Royals EP Mark Schwahn, do yourself a favor and google that shit, he’s a menace. 

While PC’s at the adoption agency with Lackadaisical Tracy, she gets a call from Flip Flipping out--

(see what I did there?)

--about how he “played his hand” with BoJack and BoJack shows up drunk as a skunk. PC goes outside to meet him and gives him the Hollywoo Agent peptalk. Pull up your Big Horse pants and honor your commitments, even if you don’t like the character. PC’s gots shit to do.

So, BoJack trudges back to the set, disrobes, and changes that lightbulb, bruh.

At the airport, Mr. Peanutbutter, holding a sign that says BLARN, picks up Diane with a new haircut. She has just returned from a recent trip. They seem friendly but distant...and then he drops her off here.

Yeahhhh, remember how they were having troubles last season? They’re getting a divorce. 

At Philbert HQ, BoJack finishes his nekkid scene, then goes to crafty nekkid to eat some Cadbury eggs nekkid to much applause. Later at his house, Flip apologizes to BoJack for trying to forcefully remove his robe for the scene, but of course does not apologize to Gina, then cackles that women might stop complaining about being nekkid on camera now that a dude did it. 

Flip is the worst.

The episode closes as it begun, with the fish ladies doing their water ballet in the pool.

I have to wonder. Do people eat meat in the BoJackverse? Probably not, right?