#GOD THAT ONE SCENE WHERE EVERYTHING GOES FANCY IN THE SONG

[cow-tag]

Almost there from the princess and the frog but it's rise mikey after buying an old run down paint factory

kicking my feet thinking about it maybe shellshocked au comes into play when like miles goes to the old factory to paint on the walls before it was bought and hes there they day mikey buys it

i would like to note that mikey sees the graffiti and does nothing to get rid of it. he actually paints next to and around them then finishes it off with sealant so it wont chip away and miles watches from a ways away like "holy fuck this dude is cool hold on"

shenanigans ensue

[luveline]

What about reader doing eddie’s makeup in the love bites au?

Love your work! <3

thank you for your request! (loosely inspired by that scene in how to lose a guy in 10 days!!) love bites au / vampire eddie ♥︎ fem!reader suggestive content

If there's someone Eddie dislikes more than Blondie, it's Carly Simm. Where Blondie hasn't ever personally done anything to Eddie besides existing as a band, Carly Simm is similarly innocent. Her only crime is writing catchy music that you can't get enough of. 

You'd discovered her a week or two ago on the radio, and you'd begged Eddie to turn it up. He loves seeing you happy, and while it isn't his jam he'd happily complied. Same reason he'd bought you the tape. 

He regrets it now, sitting in your bed with a lapful of your thighs, your hands tucking hair behind his ears in perfect sync as you hum The Carter Family for the hundredth time today. 

"I'm not good," you remind him. 

"Sure you are," he reassures, hands slowly climbing the hills of your hips. He slips one under your shirt to squeeze along your back, stopping flat-palmed at the small of it. "I'm not bothering you, am I?" 

"You can touch me as much as you want." 

Your confusion prompts a quick explanation, "I meant, I won't distract you?" 

"Maybe a little." You smile softly. "We don't have anywhere to be."  

You and Eddie only have to be here and now, wasting time together. Spending it together. And truthfully this had been Eddie's idea anyways. 

You tap the pads of your fingers to Eddie's face and smile at his tacky skin. "Perfect." 

Your methods are dubious, your first course of action is to mix a cream that boasts colour changing technology with a dollop of moisturiser. He closes his eyes and you dot it over his forehead, his cheeks, his chin. You're more delicate near his nose, fingertips precise, the smallest bit of product rubbed into his nose. Next comes the patting, your fingers working over his face. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Trying to get rid of streaks." You sit back. Eddie lets his arms stretch to keep you. "Looking good, handsome." 

"Thank you." 

You move onto eyeshadow next. You've brought a colourful palette that you bought at the fancy department store before you'd met him, plastic covering still intact. When he'd asked, you'd only said, "I knew I had to save it for something special," like it wasn't the most romantic thing he'd ever heard. 

You open the eyeshadow compact and ask Eddie to choose a colour. He goes for the dark, dark navy because there's no black, and you tell him to close his eyes. You swipe your fingers over his eyelid more gently than you need to. 

Eddie can hear everything; your heart beating regularly despite his handsy grasp on your hips, your breathing, and the heat that kisses his lips with each exhale, every fraction of sound from the tape deck as it switches to the next song. 

"Oh, god, not this one again," he groans. 

You start to sway with the music, and then your favourite part comes on and he's expecting it, your hands on his cheeks, fingers careful not to smudge shadow over his temples. You sing lightly, sweetly, clumsy but he wouldn't expect anything less — you aren't the kind of girl who worries about sounding good, and you never have been. "And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner, they'd be your partner," you sing, pausing to laugh, meeting his eyes with nothing but mirth. "You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you! You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is-" 

He kisses you by accident. Swears. The look in your eyes had been too much to ignore any longer, that playful teasing, the funny quirk of your mouth as you'd warbled through it. He'd needed to kiss you if only to feel you smiling. 

"Never buying you music ever again," he mumbles against you. 

You pull back to steal the lead, kissing him quickly, once then twice before you lean back. "You like this song." 

"No, I like watching you when you listen to it. Big difference." 

You raise your eyebrows and then use your thumbs to force his up too. "We're confused," you say. 

His pulse starts to rise. He's become much more acquainted with the physical effects of love since his unfortunate transformation. Every time he thinks he's found the bottom of the well of his affection, you do something that makes his heart skip and he has to reassess. 

"You know when you miss the last step?"

You gesture for him to close his eyes. "Like, when you trip?" 

"Just miss it completely. Overshot." 

Your finger starts to dab the opposite eye. "Mm," you murmur, concentration robbing your voice. He waits for you to finish your pulling motion and squeezes you, code for you've forgotten the conversation. 

"I think so," you say eventually. 

He opens his eyes. You're looking at the soft glittery colour pensively. 

"You know how it makes your stomach flip? Do you think there's a good version of that?" 

"Like finding a step where you weren't expecting one?" 

"Like, the sudden rush of a good feeling. Molly for a split-second." 

"I've never tried molly." 

"And you won't," he says, mostly joking. 

You take some of the glitter onto your finger and smooth it under his eyes. He looks up at the ceiling and fights the urge to blink as you get close to his waterline. He trusts you not to poke his eyes out.  

Your pulse spikes suddenly. 

He drops his chin back down. "What?" 

Worry gives to amusement when he sees your expression. It's shy (or as shy as you get), which means you're thinking about something very specific. 

"You know when we're-" 

"Hugging?" 

You beam. "Yeah, definitely. And you're all sweaty, and you push your face into my neck?" 

Eddie has the good graces to feel flustered. "Yeah." 

"Sometimes I think you're gonna bite me. And I get that feeling. 'The sudden rush of a good feeling,'" you confide, hands playing in the hair at the back of his neck. He shudders when you start to scratch his scalp, your smile a short fall from salacious. 

Eddie probably wouldn't bite you. He's too worried you'll end up in the same boat as him, a blood-sucker who can't get excited without little knife points slotting out of his gums. 

Speaking of. 

"Fuck," he mutters. He'd been doing a spectacular job at keeping his fangs in, especially because he's young and you're literally his girlfriend and you're in his lap moving around. They snap into place over his regular canines and blood fills his mouth, gums sliced open.

You wince when he winces. "Sorry, baby." 

It's definitely your fault but also he can't really blame you. This is normal flirting between couples, and he does it to himself most the time. It's actually extremely fucking annoying, to be lying in bed at night by himself, and all he wants to do is think about you when boom, there's blood running down his chin.

"You should be," he says. "You suck. Are we almost done?" 

"We're done," you say, climbing off of his lap to grab your handheld mirror. "Lookit." 

You've actually done a great job. He looks awesome, smokey and sparkly like a glam metal rockstar. 

"Flash the fangs," you command. 

He flashes the fangs. You put both hands out in front of you and make a pleased sound. He intertwines your fingers. 

"You're so cool. You look cool. Can I take a photo?" 

"Just for you?" 

"Especially for me." 

He lets you take a polaroid, smiling with teeth, hair pushed behind one ear. He looks good. A little pale, 'cause he's a week away from a blood sate and his body is taking it hard as it always does, but that's not a bad thing. He'd fit right in at a KISS concert. 

You tug the photo out of his hand. "Just for me, you said." 

He can't even be mad. 

[herstarburststories]

tolerate it

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: your love for Dean used to be celebrated, but now he tolerates it.

A/N: here it is, hunters! First fic of the year, wow! I hope you guys like it! Based on Taylor's song tolerate it. Also requested by @ashleyygeza!

Warnings: so much angst, language, smut

There was this thing you always liked to do. It was mostly the learned behavior of a child that grew up in motel rooms. It was usual for the adult that called a bunker her home, too. You’d lay on your back, staring at the light on the ceiling and squint your eyes to the point the glimmering white light could be mistaken as the moon. You never thought you’d end up doing that to people as well.

It used to be something so sensual and sequin back then, but now the fact that he's so much older and wiser only makes you quiet. You see his bruised hands and worried glances; the stubble on his face growing as his sense of self starts to fade with borrowed time. Dean used to love you in screaming colors; now he just sits in silence reading with his head low, researching the next case under the dim light while you watch him. Sam can't seem to stand slow deaths either -- he just clears his throat and leaves the bunker with the empty excuse of a supply run. 

Still, you remain here. You stand still like a good ornament in Dean's collection of lovers. It seems like it's a matter of time until he leaves you too. Yet, you’re sitting and watching him, and you can't help but wonder if you aren't just another wrinkle on his face. You’d been a memory of something worth dying for, once, but now you were starting to believe you were just another battle scar; marred skin that had spent so long settling that he didn’t even notice the scarification anymore. 

Hours pass as quickly and emotionally draining as dry heaving. His huffs of annoyance and thirsty fingers of whiskey were difficult to ignore. The eldest Winchester doesn’t dare to approach you; to throw those dust-collecting books away and make love to you with dumbfounded grins and breathless groans like he had done so many times before. That was when you were a complete person and not just the husk of a lover destroyed. Once you held the strength of Jeanne d'Arc, now you sit and wait for a man to love you back. You’d be disgusted by your weakness if you had any pity left to spare.

If you look at someone too much you can confuse it with love. And if you already love someone and keep looking, you might waste all the rose-colored visions love could create. Maybe that's what happened to Dean. It’s a treacherous game, and it seems like he’s winning. Perhaps it’s your fault, your snide mind speculates against your will. You should try harder.

You don’t miss Dean’s hidden sigh of relief when the door makes a noise, announcing Sam’s return. How could you? You notice everything he does or doesn't do. At first, you fantasized that, even if it started getting messy before, he was pushing you away because of the whole fighting God problem, now you aren’t so sure. The clues were all over the place when Chuck was gone. Dean smiled at Sammy as if there was no tomorrow and said we’re finally free without sparing a glance at you. When they-- when he started building other worlds, where were you? That long-fraught, battle-ridden past of the Winchesters might be gone, but the more you try to turn the page, the more they stick to each other.

‘’Sammy,” his gruff voice says. It is the first word in hours that wasn’t half-hearted mumbles agreeing with your occasional comments or the tuneful hum of a classic rock song between reading and drinking. ‘’Did you bring any bacon?’’

‘’Yeah, but they need cooking--’’ Sam interrupts his brother, already familiar with this conversation. Dean’s half-open mouth and wiggling brows meant one thing. He was such a kid sometimes. ‘’And no. I’m not frying this cardiac embolism waiting to happen for you, dude.’’

You get up, aiming a smile at the long-haired hunter. ‘’Don’t worry, I can cook it. I was gonna make some pasta anyway.’’

Sam slightly nods before tilting his head towards you. ‘’You sure?’’

‘’Yeah. My butt’s already sore from the research. Those chairs aren’t that comfortable.’’ You scrunched up your nose with a good-humored grimace. 

‘’Okay, thanks.’’ You nod, throwing a last glance at Dean, who barely moved since you got in the conversation. You turn around, walking to the kitchen when Sam’s voice reverberated through. Deciding to overhear against all your sense of privacy, like a schoolgirl in the bathroom, you lean against the wall. You can’t believe the point you got to at those moments, but the answer to the question Sam asks may be the solution for your personal tophet. ‘’What’s up with you?’’

Dean doesn’t seem phased by his brother’s prodding. ‘’What do you mean?’’

Sam arches his eyebrows. ‘’No butt jokes?’’

At least you aren’t going crazy here. Even Sammy noticed something peculiar about Dean and you. There had to be an explanation or reason.; something broken that you could fix.

‘’I’m a grown-ass man, Sam.’’ He scoffs as you heard the chair being pushed. You nibble on your bottom lip, catching your breath as they continue.

‘’Yeah, sure,” the younger man snaps sarcastically. Dean rolls his eyes. ‘’Actually researching when I leave you two alone? Come on, Dean. Did you guys argue or something?’’

‘’We are just fine.’’ His boots scuffing against the wood floor makes a well-known melody, just like Sam’s loud sigh. You know him; he thinks this his brother’s way to avoid the subject and run away. You can’t say you don’t agree with that.

‘’Dean…’’

“I’m gonna take a shower. I spent two hours reading. I gotta get ready for my bacon.’’ It is a simple answer that made your heart spin like a girl in a brand new dress. You had the sudden realization that at least he spent those hours with you, right? Deadly in his quietude, but he was there. Women always are excellent at convincing themselves that crumbs are a whole meal. Therefore, convince yourself this is enough.

You hear the creaking under his strong, heavy steps as he leaves, and a couple more from Sam as well. Ultimately, you turn around, clapping your hands together as you glare at the food still waiting to be made. You give yourself a comforting smile as you speak: ‘’Time to get to work.’’

Then you go. You pace around the kitchen, preparing the lunch with everything you have. Make it perfect, make it delicious. Fuck, even make it deluxe with pre-made bacon and vegan pasta on a Tuesday afternoon. It’s so silly how you make such a lavish effort with the smallest things only to maybe catch a glimpse of his attention. As if Dean would see, truly look at you again. You gave him the best you had, and when you ran out of that, you gave him what was left too. 

The pasta is smelling good. You two used to be each other's better halves, but since the coin had been tossed, you are now each other’s worst reflections. He’s your coldness; the gelid nature that was so useful as a weapon to hurt those who came before him. The ignorance, the lack of care for the ones who claimed to cherish you with their ripped out chests and open hands. You can see you in the way he moved, told white lies and walked away. All the most brutal aspects that your soul built through the years. You almost burn your hand, but at least it isn’t his bacon. And in you, you hold all Dean hated in himself lately. The clingy behavior, always urging to serve and make someone else happy. So needy for a gentle touch, one single proof that his lurking was wrong and he was worthy, that he could be loved someday if he just tried hard enough. Desperate in earge for aprovation, just like you grabbing the Men Of Letters’ sumptuous tapestry and the elegant candle holder, laying the table with the fancy shit.

‘’Wow.’’ Sam says once he arrives in the dining room. Dean refrains his reaction to arching his eyebrows in an unspoken question: what the fuck is happening there?

‘’Is the queen visiting us or somethin’?’’ You catch the pissed off glare that Sammy gives him, yet the older Winchester just shrugs. His little brother had the same eyes as him in many aspects, he had to agree that all those snobby objects were too much.

Unbothered, too used to his butch nature, you chortle. ‘’I just thought we deserved some nice things tonight.’’

Dean hums before adding: ‘’As long as there’s bacon.’’

Sam praises how good the sauce you made tastes. Of course, Dean just nods and agrees with a grumble, not even taking a second glance at you. He doesn’t notice that you are watching him, neither does he compliment your cooking. You never get the reaction you expect from him. Not a thank you, or a true smile, or even a drop of love in the saliva of his kiss, but you keep trying. Just like he tried to make daddy proud for so long. You both should know that's not how it works, but who can argue with a broken child mosaic in an adult damaged heart?

The green eyed man purposely sets the scene in a manner that his brother would be between the two of you. And yes, you manage to double cross this signal and sit down on another chair by his side. Although, when your elbows accidently meet during the homemade feast, Dean doesn’t look at you with the lopsided grin that you love so much. He doesn’t lean in to steal a kiss. Instead, he moves to the side discreetly. You were the roots of hope once, the one who could grow inside him and wrap around his organs for some relief of the hematoma and blood. The Winchester held the arm that pulled you closer and made sure you would stay. But he no longer touches you and the plants died of thirst and you are still here. In these moments, your trick mind asks: why are you still here? You can’t answer.

The lunch goes by filled with your and Sam’s chatter, Dean’s loud chewing and Miracle’s ocasional barks until there’s no food or reasoning to postpone staying together. All the three of you raise up, adamantly ignoring the strange atmosphere. 

‘’We’re leaving in an hour.’’ It’s all Dean says before leaving the room. Sammy dares to squeeze your shoulder softly before following his older brother’s path. With a suspire, you collect all the plates and lead to the kitchen again, starting to put the 60 minutes to good use. Polish plates until they gleam and glisten, maybe Dean will sneak in and wrap his arms around you, press a kiss to your neck and tell you to go to bed, that he will take care of the dishes. He used to do that. This was then and this is now. It’s easy to get lost in the tangles of time.

Of course he doesn’t. Though the hunter shows up with a bag and shouts from the living room for you to hurry up, so you do. Sleeping in the backseat of Baby through the streets of the United States, you wake up with Sam gently shaking your shoulder. Dean is already inside the restaurant. You try not to think too much about it, he could’ve been needing to hit the bathroom or something. As you and the youngest Winchester enter the establishment, four trained eyes fall on your boyfriend and the waitress, who’s clearly leaning forward to make her cleavage more evident. You two pace towards the table just in time to hear the end of their conversation. 

‘’Call me if you need anything.’’ The name tag says that the brunette is called Andressa. She's tall, tan and beautiful, smiling in a way that you never can never conquer. You miss having that confidence, how you’d walk in a room and be sure people would stop and stare. Remember when you used to be like that?

‘’Betcha.’’ He gives her a lopsided grin, the one that used to be directed to you. Andressa winks at him and leaves, swapping her hips in the most seductive way, which catches Dean's eyes like it's the whole Aurora Boreal and not just a woman's ass.

‘’Nice shirt, yeah?’’ You take his indiscretions all in good fun. Dean, though, takes a deep breath and wipes his face, as if he's the one with the right to be annoyed in this situation. It's so stupid how you keep making yourself smaller to fit in whatever expection is comfortable for him. At some point you'll disappear-- but hey, no body no crime. You attempted to explain yourself, ‘’I was just kidding.’’

He tightens his mouth into a thin line. ‘’I know.’’

‘’I saw one on Shein.’’

‘’Come on, Y/N.’’ The green eyed hunter scoffed. ‘’That’s like, Belladonna’s boobs sort of thing.’’

It’s so stupid how his opinons can change your whole weekend, as if your emotions were some sort of board game that Dean played by his own rules. You hang your head low, playing with the menu. You can ‘’Yeah, you’re right. It was dumb.’’

‘’That’s not what I---’’ He stopped himself with a deep inhale. Why did it seem easier for him to criticize than compliment you? You are using your best colors for his portrait of stares, yet all you gain are vacant side eyes. That man killed for you, and now every second by your side seemed to be murdering him. ‘’You’d look good on it.’’

You decide not to go on the next hunt, give both of you a break from the grey skies that always seem to suppress you and Dean. What if you two just need time apart? You live together, work together, and even have the same group of friends. Putting the whole monsters and multiple deaths aside, it was pretty much like a normal relationship. You must just need some time alone to miss each other. So you start going on less and less hunts. God, past you’d hate that scared little girl act, begging to be seen like a shiny toy.

Your cell phone buzzes, causing a smile besides the burning anticipation building up in your veins, crawling under your skin like a million little stars, or bugs. It depends on how you choose the perspective, no surprise you’d go for the romantic one. Well, it's a text from Dean. Plaid and crude: getting home in ten minutes. Why’d you be unpleasantly anxious about that? He’s your boyfriend and he’s coming home after a week! Your fingers dance around the keyboard before answering a sweet waiting for you, with a couple hearts in the byline.

You get his favorite burger and a whiskey older than you in the Deancave, which is settled up with a three hours marathon of Scooby-Doo. It was always so adorable when Dean and you made bets to see who’d guess the episode villain first. Even his hot dog pants and his robe are on the armchair. As for you, you are waiting by the door like you’re just a kid, in a vat to greet him with a battle’s hero welcome. One, two, three, minutes piling up as uncountable as the hidden tears that you cry each week in after the city’s asleep. Let’s be fair, you should’ve seen this coming from a mile away. What was the last time Dean accomplished something he promised to you? He doesn’t even reply to your text message asking if he was okay. Minutes trapped into hours, and you’re sitting with your back to the wall, right next to the door he should have burst out long ago. Time’s ticking, your mind is so tired and your body is sore; it’s exhausting to love someone like this, so you take a rest when sleep wins your hopeful, unclever thoughts.

Dean arrives one hour later, an oral scarlet letter on his tongue that tastes like beer and unregrettable priorities, an apologist expression accompanied of a very grumpy-ish Sam as the door is pushed open. The short haired hunter purses his plump lips at the sad sight; you sleeping on the floor next to the door, probably waiting for him. Maybe he should've answered your text earlier and not just rolled his eyes and ordered another drink. What a suburban mistake for a Winchester.

Dean doesn't turn around to face Sammy; his brother made his opinion on that matter very clear during their roadtrip. Instead, his aching body just leans in and picks you up bridal style — that would've made him smile in the gentlest way his blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth could, eye dipping with joy and a silent promise for the future, but now that only gets a stoic expression as he walks towards your shared room. 

He dares to sigh. There you go, taking too much space and time. This might be a deceiving concept dappled with melancholic nostalgia, but to take space and time wasn’t a trouble before. Dean once worshiped the light-hearted emotion you could bring out his inner little monster - or his soul, whatever you wanna name it. The time wrapped around your finger as he was, and things were just good. Raw good. Yet, now he sees it; time’s always running, and so is him. It’s no surprise the heart he was holding fell and was left behind at some point of the race.

The hunter bumps on the door with his shoulder, leading inside the bedroom and placing you on the mattress. Your body can’t help but to cling to him as you mumble in your sleep; maybe it’s your fond memory, used to Dean’s body seeking some human contact only in the middle night.

Clicking his tongue, he pulls away. The movement is docile, just enough to wake you up. Dean can’t help but to groan at this.

‘’You came back.’’ You murmur, while Dean adjusts on the spot next to you in bed.

Arching his eyebrows with some comedic background, he answers: ‘’Of course I did. I live here.’’

Live. You wouldn’t call what he does living. More like a ghost hunting his old house when you are around. Or maybe you were the ghost and sure, most people would run away from it, but Dean always goes looking for the supernatural beings anyway. Unnerving that he’d make someone he loved out of one.

‘’Why didn’t you pick up the phone? I was worried.’’

He shrugs and kisses your hand. ‘’Was busy.’’

It’s a poor excuse, but those are all that have been holding you two together lately.

Here it is. Your inner anger for being treated wrong, the mad woman inside you scratching to come back. He has been treating you like a coat in Texas’ summer, like a stained flannel, like a forgotten feeling. You deserve more than this. You are so much more than this. Who he thinks he is?

But he has those green eyes that cried single man tears, and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. And you love that man so.

Instead, you smile and reach out for his hand. ‘’I missed you.’’

Dean doesn’t answer. He restricts any emotion to a grin, and suddenly you are under him. He pushes his lips against yours in a desperate act of recovery, to gain back what he somehow lost through the way. The green eyed man might not find his love in you, but there’s something else he can work with; luxury. Love was always harder to spell than lust anyway. To you, the way he howls against your lips is love. To him, it’s the confirmation of the absence of it. But he can’t let go.

Your hands and his, still together coaxing each other into giving in. It’s so easy that way. Dean rushes to rip your t-shirt, gaining a laugh out of your and a kiss to his jaw. He’s out of his pants before you can even pull away to assist him. The male catches your earlobe, kissing that sweet spot to make you whimper his name.

‘’Dean.’’

Your wince, his shirt is tossed away, just like your skirt. You aren’t wearing a bra, and quickly your cherry panties are pulled apart with a simple move of his finger.

‘’Gonna make you feel so good, babe.’’ His index finger is shoved inside your tight cunt. You throw your head to the back, spreading your legs open. You want to beg him to make you feel anything good, for him to be the reason of the holy and not hollow, just this once. ‘’You are so wet--’’ Another finger, they move inside of you in an attempt to find the right spot. ‘’So fucking tight for me. I’ve fucked you so many times and you’re still so tight.’’ Dean’s thumb caressed your clit as he licked his lips, relishing how you squirm and whine his name. What a good girl. ‘’Can’t wait to fuck you.’’

It doesn’t take much longer. The eldest Winchester quickly replaced his skilled fingers with his pulsating cock. His member begged to be inside you, squeezed by those warm and tight walls. Your pussy was always so good for him, taking him so nice. Dean moans at the sensation, his hand losing yours to hold the bedpost, his thrusting wildly against yours.

No more praising words, no more foreplay. He comes to get what he wants and you’re willing to give. He used to touch you like a priceless wine, now his hands are hustled and careless like you are just another bottle of cheap beer. Dean fucks himself into you and you can’t do anything but groan in pleasure. Sometimes the hurting can be delicious, too.

You crave more, though. Your hands, tiny compared to his, meet Dean’s back, nails digging into the bare skin in a reminder I’m here, you’re still mine. Your legs wrapped around his torso, which only caused his moves to go faster and more ferocious, destroying your needy cunt for any other. It feels so good to have him inside you, fucking you up to the point you are an inchorent ball of cum and sweat. He’s gonna get you there, it’s certain, Dean always does.

His thumb comes back to your vagina, digital press to your clit as he attacks your neck. You try to move your head and get those plump lips against yours, but he sounds like an animal, increasing his rhymin and sucking your tender skin.

Everything is so hurried and irrational and not intimate. He comes inside of you after your own release, marking you up with his orgasm. As soon as he’s dones, he crawls out of you and lays on his back. Sure, you come around and rest your weary head on his chest, but that’s what it is. Deep silence. Not the one where love or magic or whatever Aphrodite is made of fills the void and makes the lovers comfortable. No, this one is visceral, like a chuckle empty of joy. It’s like the tie of gold that tried you two were tangled and ripped. Your love should be celebrated, but he tolerates it. He tolerates everything you do. He tolerates your presence. 

The wrath sneaks in smoothly and astute. You aren’t just one night stand or a sweetheart. How can Dean act like you are? You lift your head and watch him breathing with his eyes closed. It’s so brutal, emotionally violent how you are aware that he’s only doing that not to have pillow talk. Where’s that man who’d throw blankets over your barbed wire? Easily misplaced by the one who threw your boundaries away and out the trap there nowadays. You made him your temple, you mural, your sky, now you’re begging for footnotes in the story of his life.

In the rare cracks of lucidity, you picture what would happen if you did what your old, better self would do. Dean appears to assume you are fine, but what would he do if you break free and leave you two in ruins, took this dagger in you and removed it, gain the weight of you then lose it? He was so comfortable with you. Maybe he didn’t think you would ever do that, but there’s just so much a woman with your determination and cleaverity can take. Believe, I could do it. You did it before with others. Sometimes you need to leave to breathe. Perhaps it's time. 

But then, he embraces you. Just like that, all your doubts and fears and bruises caused by his kisses are reduced to paranoia. You decide maybe you got it wrong somehow. Not even blinking at the thought that Dean enjoys cuddles. No, he’s pulling you closer and snucking his nose into your hair because he loves you. Convince yourself. You are majestic with lies, it gets surprisingly facile to tell them when you nuzzle into the Winchester’s neck like his smell is some sort of placebo.  

You aren't tiptoeing around it, or even stepping on the doubts with tiny hoaxes. You are barefoot on his love-- but his love feels a lot like walking through a street of fire and thorns. But hey, isn't that the point of devotion? To put something, someone first? To go through any suffering and starve to get to the prize, to walk through the golden gates? If this was a church, the priest would tell you to get on your knees and pray harder. You can see where he’s going. You’ll do better. Be everything Dean needs. You can be worthy-- you are worthy. You were his everything once and you can be that again. Pick up the soul tapestry he shrewd so unintentionally and patch it up. Most of those things must be in your head anyway, and if they aren't… Well. He will love you that deeply again, right? Right? It’s an echo. Right.

Tomorrow you’ll try again. In the name of love, condepedency, or whatever it is. Sit and watch him.

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[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Part 11

Title: Life’s Lessons - A Lesson in Moving Forward

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Other characters: OFCs: Katie (Y/N’s best friend) Kathleen (Y/N’s therapist), OMC: Neil (Katie’s boyfriend)

Word Count: 5,770 (texts, thoughts, song lyrics in italics).

Part Summary: New Year’s Eve night finds Dean and Y/N still separated, but it’s nothing a little fun over the phone can’t fix. After a visit to her therapist, Y/N returns to Lawrence to have an important conversation with Dean, before they can embark on their journey as a couple. 

Warnings: Swearing, Smut: Phone sex, Dirty talk, Male masturbation/Hand job, Female masturbation/Vaginal fingering. 18+ ONLY. Therapy session, Insecurities, Self image/worth issues, Mentions of reader’s ex, Mention of physical altercation against reader, Dean’s self deprecation rears it’s ugly head (slightly), Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Dean being sweet (yes, that’s a warning)

Music: This Is How by Louden Swain (Y/N post therapy session scene), Something by The Beatles (Dean and Y/N end scene).

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: You guys are seriously the best! Thank you so much for all the love for this series. It really means the absolute world to me. There’s only 4 chapters and an epilogue left after this. I hate counting down, but I just want everyone to be prepared for the inevitable end. I can’t wait for you all see where this goes! Happy reading and enjoy! :)

 Life’s Lessons Masterlist

Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics! Check her out for all your AU needs!!! 

Y/N concentrated as she applied her eyeliner, her face as close to the mirror as she could get it. She had given herself a smokey eye look, with a plum lipstick to match the colour of her sequin full-sleeve, backless dress. Katie sat on Y/N’s bed of the hotel room, dressed in a black dress and heels, just watching her friend as they talked.

It was New Year’s Eve, and Katie had booked her and her boyfriend one room at a fancy hotel in the city, and another for Y/N. Katie’s boyfriend, Neil had friends who were having a big party in the penthouse and asked him to bring anyone he knew along to the party. Y/N had protested at the start, given that it wasn’t really her scene, but Katie had insisted. Somehow, they managed to find a room once Y/N had agreed.

Y/N packed up all her make-up and put it back in her make-up bag. She slipped into her black heels, fixing her hair a little as she tossed it over one shoulder and turned back to Katie.

“I mean, it’s not really our scene either, but Neil knows these guys from work. I’m sure it’ll be fun” Katie said, still trying to convince Y/N even though she was almost ready. She had just never been a fan of New Year’s. It was always a letdown.

“I know” Y/N sighed. “I’m just going to feel like a third wheel.” She hated that she couldn’t be with Dean on this night, wanting to start the new year with him. As much as she had needed to see her family and she was so glad she got to spend this time with them, she regretted not scheduling the flight back to Kansas before New Year’s.

Katie frowned, knowing what she was thinking about. “You know I’d never make you feel like that. And besides, you’ll see Dean when you get back in a few more days. So, you’ll still be starting the new year with him.”

Y/N told Katie everything when she had come over to their house before Christmas Eve, and her friend had been incredibly happy for her and the prospect of a relationship with the neighbor she had been crazy about for months.

“I guess you’re right” Y/N shrugged.

“I’m always right” Katie said, laughing. “We’re going to have a great time and bring in the new year.”

Y/N laughed at her enthusiasm, shaking her head.

Once she was ready, she grabbed her clutch purse and put her phone and lipstick inside. She opened the door and they walked out into the hallway, Y/N locking the door and placing her key card in her clutch. Katie and Neil were one floor above her, and Neil had already gone up to the penthouse, so the girls decided they would meet him up there.

Once they got inside, Y/N and Katie smiled at each other, as people danced to music, drinks were being served from the small bar set-up, and waiters walked around with them and small canapes as well. Katie spotted Neil and they walked over, and he immediately took them both to the middle of the room, where people were dancing. Y/N bopped along, but knew she needed a drink before she lost herself in the music. She got herself a gin and tonic, standing off to the side where it wasn’t too crowded. Katie gestured she’d be over in a minute, and Y/N nodded, laughing slightly.

Y/N people watched, sipping her drink. Just as she was about to move and maybe decide to join Katie and Neil rather than stand off to the side, a tall man approached her. He was wearing a fancy sweater and dress pants, his dark hair slicked back.

“Hi” he flashed her smile, but Y/N wasn’t going to do anything about it. “You all alone over here?”

“No, I’m just waiting on some friends” she replied, politely, hoping he’d move on soon.

“Okay, but are you here by yourself? Got a boyfriend?” he asked.

“I do, he’s just not here” she lied. Dean wasn’t her boyfriend, not yet at least, but she needed to get this guy far away from her.

“Well, he won’t mind if-” he started to insinuate something, and she cut him off; shut him down.

“Actually, he would” she said, glaring at him. She walked off before he could say anything, walking over to her friends.

The rest of the night went on, as Y/N ate and drank a little more, and even danced a little with Katie and Neil. Katie took a bunch of pictures, only posting the appropriate ones of her. Life of a teacher meant you couldn’t really post drinking photos, so those were avoided. She was surprised, but she had a great time, and before everyone knew it, it was twenty minutes to midnight and to the beginning of the new year. However, as much fun as she had, there was someone who she really wanted to talk to and bring the new year in with. Even if he was in Kansas, which was an hour behind New York. She explained herself to Katie, who completely understood, and they wished each other a happy new year early, before Y/N left.

As soon as she entered her hotel room, she tossed her purse on the bed and kicked off her heels. She took out her phone and tried to connect FaceTime, but the hotel’s Wi-Fi was being crappy. She dialled his number, waiting for him to pick up as she sat on the bed.

“Hey” his cheery voice came through, a little loud as she heard music in the background.

“Hey” she said, smiling. “Where are you?”

“At Sam’s. They’re having a party and invited everyone over. The girls miss you” he told her, and she guessed he found a slightly quieter room, the music now muffled in the background.

“I miss them too” she said, frowning. “And… I miss you.”

“God, you have no idea how much I wish you were here. Pretty sure I’m the only one who doesn’t have someone to kiss at midnight” he chuckled, but she frowned knowing he was definitely trying to lighten his own mood.

“Well, I left the party early. It’s nearly midnight here, and I wanted to bring it in with you” she smiled, looking out the large window of her room.

Dean smirked as he sat down on Sam and Eileen’s bed. He really missed her and was so happy when he saw her name flash up on his screen. He snuck into a quiet room so that he could hear her properly.

“What? No good-looking New York men to kiss at midnight?” he teased, but really hoping he was right.

“You know you’re the only one I want to kiss from now on” she smiled, biting her lip.

Dean licked his lips, as he smirked. “Yeah, same here, sweetheart.”

Y/N hummed, leaning back against the pillows. “Good to know.”

There was a short pause before Dean spoke next. “So… you look amazing. Your friend posted a photo on Facebook.”

“Of course she did” she laughed, slightly.

“You uh… you still dressed?” he asked, hesitantly. He didn’t know if she’d be offended by where he was going with that question.

Luckily, Y/N knew exactly where he was going with it and was very much on board. “I don’t have to be.”

She stood up from the bed and unzipped the small zip at the dip in the back of the dress. She slipped her arms out and wiggled out of the dress, dropping it to the floor. Dean smirked as he heard the rustling of fabric. Y/N picked up her phone and laid back down on the bed in just her black thong, having forgone a bra because of her backless dress.

“I wish you were here” she said, softly.

“Me too, sweetheart. You… you wanna know what I’d do if I was?” he asked, closing his eyes as he heard her whimper.

“Yeah” she said, nodding.

Dean smirked, excited about where this was going. “I’d… kiss your breasts… and lick your nipples. I’d roll them between my fingers to get them hard.”

She sighed, as she brought her free hand to her right breast, rolling the nipple between her thumb and fore-finger.

“Are you touching yourself, Y/N?” he asked, his voice husky and downright seductive.

“Yeah” she sighed, licking her lips as she closed her eyes. She could feel her arousal growing between her legs, just from her ministrations and his voice.

“Good girl” he complemented her, trying to imagine her on the bed as he talked to her. He heard her whimper when he said that and smirked as he stored it away that she was into that.

“I’d love to see you right now. See you pinching your nipples, see your hand move down your beautiful body to your pussy…” he trailed off, his own arousal building.

Y/N breathed deep, as her hand skimmed over her stomach and down to her thong, pulling it to one side. She turned her speaker phone on to free her hand, moving it to her left breast, and paying it the same attention as her right. Her fingers dipped in between her folds, feeling the wetness there.

“Dean” she moaned, softly. “I’m…”

Dean felt himself getting hard as he heard her say his name. He had longed to hear it like that for so long, and he wished he could be there to do something about it.

“You what, sweetheart? Talk to me.” His voice was low and gravelly, turning her on even more.

“I’m so wet” she gasped, as she continued to move her fingers over the folds and up and around her clit.

“Fuck” he breathed out. “Are you wet for me, Y/N? Is it all for me?”

“Yes, you. Only you, Dean” she said, smiling.

Dean groaned, palming the outside of his jeans as he felt his hard on throbbing against the fabric. He looked between the bedroom door and the master bathroom, knowing that was the only way to avoid being walked in on. He rushed over to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it. He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder, as he undid his belt and unzipped his jeans, leaning back against the door.

“Keep touching yourself for me, gorgeous. Move those fingers inside you. Tell me how it feels” he instructed her.

She moved her fingers to her entrance, inserting one first, then another when she adjusted, pumping them in and out. She rubbed the pads of her fingers against her wall, moaning as the pleasure pulsed through her. She smiled when she heard his belt and zipper over the phone and decided to have a little fun with him in return.

“Dean, it feels so good. My fingers feel so good inside my tight, wet pussy. I… I wish they were your fingers inside me” she moaned loudly, as she writhed on the bed.

“Me too, Y/N, me too. Picture it, sweetheart. Imagine it’s my fingers fucking you, making you feel so good” he whispered, closing his eyes, imagining it himself. He pushed his boxers aside, taking hold of his aching cock, and began pumping his hand along the shaft.

“You’re touching yourself, too aren’t you, Dean?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Yeah” he groaned, as he moved his hand along his cock.

“I bet you wish it was my hand, don’t you?” she moaned, as she continued to move her fingers within her core.

“Fuck, yeah I do, sweetheart. Wish it was your fingers… wish it was your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, squeezing around me as you take me in” he grunted, gripping himself a little tighter.

“Dean” she moaned loudly. “Oh fuck, you’d feel so good inside me, filling me up, making me feel so full.”

Dean huffed at her words. Damn she was good at this. He threw his head back, hitting the door. His jaw clenched as he moved his hand faster, chasing his release.

“Dean. Dean, fuck… oh, fuck, Dean!” she shrieked, throwing her head back as her legs shook.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You sound so fucking beautiful, fucking yourself on your fingers” he growled. “Rub your clit, baby.”

Her thumb moved over her clit, circling the bundle of nerves, causing a string of loud moans to leave her lips.

“Dean, oh my god! I-I-I I’m gonna cum… Dean, I’m gonna cum” she stammered, overwhelmed by what she was feeling.

“Do it, sweetheart. Make yourself cum on your fingers. Make yourself cum for me” he groaned.

She moved her fingers and her thumb, faster as the waves of pleasure finally crashed over her. “Ah, fuck! Dean! Dean!” she moaned loudly, not caring if people in the other rooms around her heard anything. She came hard, her fingers soaked in her release.

“Fuck… shit… Y/N.” Dean held himself tightly, pumping faster and biting back a loud groan, as spurts of cum filled the palm of his hand.

They both breathed heavily, hearing each other come down from their high over the phone. Dean smirked, chuckling to himself. This girl was really something to get him that riled up that he had to do something about it right there, in his brother’s master bathroom at a New Year’s Eve party.

He heard her breathing heavily, probably still too blissed out to talk, causing him to grin. “Y/N?”

“That… was…” she kept pausing as she tried to catch her breath. She chuckled slightly, shaking her head. She couldn’t believe she just did that with him. She had never done that before.

“That was so fucking hot” he laughed, softly.

She hummed, still running her fingers over her folds, slowly. “Yeah, it was.”

“You’re welcome” he said, a cocky grin on his face.

She laughed, shaking her head, before it slowly died down. “I’ve… I’ve never done that before. You know… over the phone.”

“Coulda fooled me, sweetheart” he smirked, as he remembered everything she said. He needed to stop thinking about it, knowing it would get him hard all over again.

“I guess when it comes to you… I just know what I want to say or hear” she shrugged, holding the phone to her ear again.

Dean smiled. “Me too.”

Before she could say something, Y/N gasped as the fireworks started. She quickly sat up and smiled brightly as she saw all the beautiful colors outside her window, high in the sky as the fireworks erupted from the bridge.

“Happy New Year, Dean” she smiled, happier than she had been in a long, long time.

Knowing that it was already time there, Dean smiled. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“I can’t wait to come home to you” she told him.

“I can’t wait for that either” he smirked, his heart exploding with happiness. It scared him, not knowing what could happen in the future worried him, but he had to make sure things would be okay now. He knew they would be because they were going to be in it together. They were going to be a team and work hard to make a life for themselves. Together.

“Want me to call when it’s your turn?” she asked.

“No, you just get some sleep” he replied, quietly.

“Okay” she nodded. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Sweet dreams, Y/N” he smiled as they both hung up the phone.

Dean smirked to himself, waiting a few minutes to calm down as he cleaned up, made himself presentable again and went back out to the main room where the party was. He had done that with women before, but it was the first time in a long, long time that he had felt that satisfied without anything more. It was about them being there for each other, even if they couldn’t physically be together. That was just the beginning, and he really couldn’t wait to find out where they went from there.

Y/N’s leg bounced up and down, nervously as she waited. The waiting room was familiar, having come here every week for a year after her break-up with Ethan. Being back there brought up old feelings, but she quickly put them to bed. She wanted to go there to get her thoughts properly aligned, be sure that she was in a better headspace before she and Dean went any further than they had. She smiled to herself as thought about what happened a couple of nights ago. She had never done that with any of the other guys she had been with. She never trusted them enough to do that. With Dean, she felt like she could do anything, but she also felt like he would never judge her if she didn’t want to.

The door across from her opened, a woman walking out and down the hall, leaving the waiting room. She smiled as she saw her old therapist, Kathleen waiting with the door open. She stood up, fixed her boots over her knee and picked up her brown coat. She walked in, as Kathleen closed the door.

“Y/N” she smiled, shaking her hand. “It’s good to see you, after so long.”

“It has been a while” Y/N agreed. She knew that she could’ve seen someone in Kansas, but she knew that she needed to see Kathleen for familiarity and comfortability. She already knew her past struggles and would be able to help with her new ones based on her past experience. She didn’t want to have to repeat everything to someone new.

As they sat down across from each other, Kathleen turned to Y/N. “So… how have you been?”

Y/N looked around the office. Nothing had changed except for a few more photos of Kathleen’s kids. Kathleen was in her mid 40s now, the roots of her dark hair were beginning to grey, but she was as stylish as ever as she wore all black with chunky jewellery.

“I’ve been… good. Better than I have been in a long time” Y/N replied, with a soft smile. “I just know that I want to clear some things out of my head before I start to move on with my life.”

“Alright, so tell me what’s going on” Kathleen said, putting a glass of water in front of her.

Y/N went on to explain everything to Kathleen, stopping to clarify things when she asked. She knew about Y/N getting the job in Lawrence, that was the reason she had obviously stopped coming to see her. She told her about school, about Mark, about Lisa and of course, Dean. She told her everything, about the kiss, about giving him time with Lisa, about Mark being an asshole, about Dean being there for her when she needed him, and about their kiss before she left to come home for the holidays. She told her about the trust she had with him, but how she did fear that something would go wrong.

“I keep thinking about all the things I use to think when I was with Ethan. Like I’m not good enough, like I’ll never be able to make anyone happy. That I deserve to be alone. It all resurfaced again after Mark and now… I can’t shut it off” she explained, sadly.

“Has Dean ever made you feel that way? The way Ethan did?” Kathleen asked, her face neutral as it should be.

“No, never. Not once” Y/N said, firmly.

“He’s never said anything like that to you? Treated you that way?” Kathleen confirmed.

“No” Y/N shook her head. “He’s just… he’s so different. He’s… he’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then what scares you?” Kathleen questioned, looking at her.

Y/N huffed as thought about that question for a moment. “That… I might not be what he wants. Which is weird to even think because he’s told me that I’m it for him.”

“Have you spoken to him about this?” her therapist asked.

“No, not yet. I know I need to, though” Y/N replied, feeling tears brim against her lower lids.

“Do you think Dean would be open to having this conversation with you?” Kathleen wondered.

“I think so” Y/N nodded.

“Then, that’s your exercise. Having the conversation. Then, and only then, can you truly move forward with your life, Y/N. If Dean is the one that you want to be with, you have to make sure the past won’t creep into this relationship. You have to make sure he really knows how you feel, really knows what you’re thinking. A conversation over the phone is much different to one in person. Once he really sees you, sees how you’re feeling, that’s when you’ll know where you both stand” Kathleen explained.

Y/N sighed in relief. “You’re right. We just have to talk.”

Kathleen nodded, finally a very small smile on her face. “I’m afraid our time is up, but I’m very glad you came to see me.”

“Thank you so much, Kathleen” Y/N smiled.

“Don’t hesitate to go to someone in Kansas now. It’s difficult to repeat your past to a new person, but if you need the help… it’ll be worth it” Kathleen advised.

Y/N nodded, determined to look for someone once she got home. She might not see them straight away, but she would do her research just in case.

As Y/N left the therapist’s office and walked down the busy New York street, she smiled to herself, feeling lighter than she had in years. It was as if she had found a new voice, wanting to shout from the rooftops that she was happy. Content. She couldn’t wait to get home and see Dean. Yes, the conversation would be daunting but she was determined to do it. It would be the first step in moving forward for them, and she knew things were going to be better than ever once they spoke about this.

This is how your story is unfolding

Try to grab a hold and slow it down

Here and now the sun is also rising

Day in and out, it offers no relief

I find my voice and sing it from the rooftops

Stand up tall and slowly take a bow

This is how

Y/N unlocked the door of her house, sighing happily as she walked in. It was a tearful goodbye at the airport back home, with little Evie clinging to her, not wanting her aunt to leave. With a promise to be back or the promise from her sister that they would come and visit, it was set in motion that the family would see each other again, soon enough. She dropped her keys on the table by the door, unwrapping her scarf from her neck as she took off her loose-fitting grey coat. Dean had messaged her, saying he was on his way back from work while she was in the cab, and her heart was racing, knowing he’d be home any minute.

Settling her bags in the bedroom, ready to unpack later, the doorbell ringing frantically and three loud knocks alerted her. She dashed out of her room and ran down the hallway to the front door. She flung the door open, squealing as she saw his gorgeous face beaming at her. She jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck, his automatically coming around her waist. She leaned in and kissed him, feverishly, not wanting to let go. They were locked in passion for a few moments, until the cold started to get to them. Dean walked her backwards, shutting the door behind him, blindly as he entered the house still locked in her embrace.

They slowly pulled away from each other, smiling as they took a few deep breaths.

“Hi” she sighed, smiling up at him.

“Hi” he said, smirking. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you too” she said, against his lips, kissing him again.

They continued their passionate embrace, as Y/N shuffled back towards the couch. She laid down, wrapping herself around him when he joined her. They locked lips, their hands roaming over each other, exploring each other. Her fingers scraped against his scalp as she combed her hands through his hair, his lips nipping at her neck. However, knowing there were things she needed to say to him, she gently pushed him up, smiling softly at his confused look.

“I think we should stop” she said, gently.

Not looking disappointed at all, he leaned down and pecked her lips, once. “Okay.”

He sat up on the couch and faced her, smiling softly. She smiled back at him, taking his hand in hers.

“There’s actually a few things I wanted to talk to you about” she said, trying not to show how nervous she was. “Maybe we can make dinner together tonight, then talk?”

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart” he replied, nodding. “Is… is everything okay?” His concerned expression made her smile, reassuringly.

“Yeah, everything’s good. I just need you to know some things I still have to tell you about Ethan” she replied, knowing she still hadn’t told him a few things, like she said she would when she was ready. And she was ready. “And I just think I need to air out what I’m feeling, before we continue with what we have.”

“Okay” he nodded, but still wondering what she was going to say. He wasn’t one to talk about his feelings very well, but he was going to try for Y/N. He needed her to know that this was it for him, even if he had already said it. He needed to show her now, by being there for her while she said what she needed to.

They spent the rest of the evening relaxing, watching crap TV before they started cooking. They made some fried chicken, cornbread and gravy, all of which Dean mostly did while she helped him with things in her kitchen. He insisted on doing most of it, and she was glad because even though she was a pretty decent cook herself, Dean was incredible. They talked and laughed over dinner, as they both relayed to each other their holidays and time with family, reiterating how much they missed each other.

As they moved over to the couch, Y/N with her wine and Dean with his whiskey, they sat down facing each other, the smallest of gaps between them.

“So…” she trailed off, her nerves bubbling up.

Dean took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Take all the time you need, sweetheart.”

She nodded, quiet as she thought about her words. She sighed as she felt ready to talk, ready to tell him the last thing she needed to about Ethan, before she voiced her fears.

“You know most of what happened with Ethan. You know how controlling he was, how he’d tell me what I could and couldn’t do, but… you don’t know how he started telling me how I should look and dress. That dressing up meant I was trying to get attention from other men, but if I dressed down, he’d tell me I wasn’t attractive. He’d say things in the most convincing ways… and I’d believe him. I’d believe I wasn’t good enough for him… for anyone” she told him, as she avoided eye contact.

Dean looked at her as he tried to keep his anger at bay. He squeezed her hand tighter to let her know he wouldn’t let go. It was like the first time she told him about her ex. She finally looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“It went on for a while before my family realized what was happening. They kept telling me I had to leave him, but I couldn’t see it myself, yet. I thought he was trying to make me better. I thought he loved me. We kept seeing each other, eventually moving in together. One night, we were about to head out for dinner, and he said that I should change what I was wearing. I told him it was fine, and we started arguing. He kept saying that I never listened to him, that I never did what he told me to do. I knew that wasn’t true because I always did what he asked me. Things started to get really bad and he… um…” she stopped, taking a deep breath before she continued. “He pushed me, and I fell, hit my head on the coffee table. I managed to scramble up from the floor and call the cops.”

“Fuck, Y/N” Dean whispered, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe how anyone could do that to her.

“I blacked out on the way to the hospital, so I had to stay there for a while because of a concussion. My parents helped me move things out of the apartment and move back in with them. I pressed charges and got a restraining order, but I still saw him every now and then. His family has money, so they probably bailed him out. He kept trying to apologize to me, but I was done with him. It had been a year since we broke up, but with the multiple run-ins with him before he left… I knew I had to leave. There were just too many reminders of what I had been through and I needed to go” she finished what she needed to say, taking another breath to keep from crying.

A silence fell between them, their hands still intertwined. Dean lifted hers up and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. She smiled tentatively at him, feeling like she might explode from that gesture. He turned slightly, making sure he was really facing her properly, to look her directly in the eyes.

“I’ll never do that to you” he vowed. That statement pierced her heart as she saw a tear roll down his cheek. She knew it to be true. She knew he was the most beautiful man she could ever be lucky enough to have in her life.

“I know” she choked out, nodding to let him know she agreed as her voice gave out.

“Is that what you’re scared of?” he asked, fear making his chest tighten.

“No” she let out in a soft cry. “I’m just scared I won’t be good enough for you. That I’ll never be what you need, that this” she said, gesturing to herself and to her head, “this won’t be good enough for you. I’m a mess.”

He took the glass out of her hand and put it down on the coffee table, along with his. He cupped her face in his hands to make her look at him.

“Y/N, I need you to really hear me, okay?” he said, looking into her tear-brimmed eyes. “I want you, exactly as you are. Everything you’ve been through, it’s never gonna stop me from wanting you. You’re beautiful, smart, freaking hilarious. Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking hot, you should know that from how much you turned me on that night we got each other off over the phone.”

One side of her mouth turned up in a half smile. “Really?”

“Yes” he said, without missing a beat. “Y/N… I meant it when I said this is it. You’re it for me, and I promise you that I will never make you feel like you’re anything less than the fucking goddess that you are.”

He moved forward, pressing his lips to hers, the kiss searing hot and imprinting onto her lips. She pushed herself into him, wrapping around him, never wanting to let go. She quickly pulled away, however, to look into his eyes again.

“I promise I’ll never let you go a minute without knowing how much you mean to me” she promised him.

“That’s good because… if you have worries, then I do, too” he said, shrugging.

“Tell me” she said, cupping his jaw.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. Like, I’m not good enough for you. You’re so smart and have so much going for you… and I’m just a mechanic from a family of mechanics” he said, quietly, voicing his own fears as he looked away from her.

She shook her head, turning his head to make her look at him. “No, you’re not.”

“No?” he asked, slightly amused at how confident she was in her statement.

“No” she said, firmly. “You’re talented, and passionate and care about what you do. You’re so smart, Dean. Look at everything you’re about to accomplish with the new site. You’re amazing and I’ll never tell you you’re anything less than that.”

He smirked at her, pressing his forehead to hers. “Thank-fucking-god I helped you with your furniture.”

She laughed, as she remembered that day. The start of their story, even if they didn’t know it then. “I know.”

“So… can I take you out tomorrow night?” he asked, smirking.

“Are you asking me out, Dean Winchester?” she asked in return, playfully.

“You’re damn right I am, Y/N Y/L/N” he said, the smirk never leaving his face.

“I’d love for you to take me out” she said, kissing him, softly.

Dean slowly moved away from her, and she frowned as he walked over to the record player. He stood there for a minute, trying to decide what to play before his eyes landed on one of The Beatles albums he had. He picked it up and took it out carefully, putting it on. She smiled as he walked over to her, his hand out.

He smirked at her, offering his hand. She slipped her hand into his, loving the feel of their fingers intertwined. She pushed herself up on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her waist. He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as she did the same.

Something in the way she moves

Attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me

I don’t want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

Somewhere in her smile she knows

That I don’t need no other lover

Something in her style that shows me

I don’t want to leave her now

You know I believe and how

Sometime after, they caught up on their favourite show for the rest of the night, slightly wrapped around each other, stealing kisses every now and then.

They both knew they would have struggles in the future, it was naïve to think they wouldn’t. They knew, however, that they could handle it because of one thing.

They were together now.

And together they could take on absolutely anything.

-x-

Tags: @flamencodiva @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @katehuntington @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma​ @parinarain​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @mandalou29​ @castiels-a-winchester @ellewritesfix05​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @supraveng​ @roonyxx​ @supernatural-love14​ @vicmc624​ @prettyboyswow​ @lunarmoon8​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ 

[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

[lost-your-memory]

I woke up with a half-thought Supercorp Cinderella AU and it keeps bugging me so here goes:

Lena is the heiress of a small but beautiful (and open-minded) kingdom.

Her father Lionel Luthor, (who is kind and good and loves his daughter very much) wishes for her to find a spouse before he passes. 

Kara is the kind alien flung out of space, so gentle, who speaks to animals

Her parents are dead and she’s living with her adopted father Jeremiah Danvers (I’m making him the Lady Tremaine of that AU, fight me) 

Kara has abilities and no matter how much work Jeremiah gives her, she doesn’t seem to be tired or bothered (that annoying dreamy smile is still there and seriously, is that girl even human?)

Anyway, Lena escapes the palace one day with her good friend and devoted Captain Alex Danvers (who is Jeremiah’s estranged daughter because really, the man is ew)

Her horse panics for some reason and runs away, separating her from Alex

Until some kind of blonde angel atop a magnificent grey horse (the same Lily James is riding in the movie, because that horse is so pretty) appears next to her

The stranger rides along her until she basically FLIES in the air to land right behind Lena and grabs the reins to start slowing down the princess’ horse

Except Lena’s mind has just gone blank, cause really: a blond angel flung out of space, flying between horse and those arms are SO STRONG and the body behind her is PURE HEAT

Once they stop, Kara jumps from the horse and whistle for her own mount, before smiling at Lena and asking her if she’s alright

Lena can’t answer, because gay panic.

That girl is all blond hair, baby blue eyes, muscles and oh, that smile is SO KIND

She manages to reign over her crush and reassures the kind angel, asking for her name when it’s obvious Kara doesn’t know who she is (which is a first, of course. Everybody in this kingdom is supposed to know who she is)

Except Alex is coming and the moment Kara hears the horse’s hooves, she’s back on her horse and already running away, without having told her name to Lena.

Back at the palace, Lena is basically day-dreaming about this girl and gushing about it every five seconds to Alex (I have the fencing scene in mind, from the movie)

Her dying father timely reminds her she has to marry, and with noble blood only

Cue the ball idea, with invites extended to all young men and women in the kingdom

Jeremiah goes for himself (I can’t bring myself to give him two daughters or sons, so we’ll skip that part of the plot), but not without tearing up Kara’s mother dress first 

Kara’s heartbroken about her mother’s dress 

Cue the fairy god mother, played by Cat Grant (cause it fits, fight me) and who starts with a sassy comment like “oh do stop crying Keira, there’s only so much I can do to make you presentable” 

She creates a carriage (but not that ugly gold shit from the movie), white horses and all the staff

Only instead of a dress, she wraps Kara into a very proper, very dashing fancy period costume (a little like the prince in the movie, but with red shoulders and gold lacing) and a pair of shining boots to complete the outfit.

Cat sends her off with a “Remember, you only have until the last stroke of midnight yada yada yada”

Kara makes a grand entrance at the palace, dashing in her splendid costume and with her golden hair tied in a ponytail etc

Lena Luthor, wrapped in a beautiful kryptonite green dress, only has eyes for the dashing woman who just entered

“It’s you!”

Cue the dance, where Kara leads

They both escape the palace while dancing and Lena is SMITTEN and she shows Kara the secret garden, where Kara pushes her on the swing ...

DING DONG

Kara runs away, cause Cat’s reminder wasn’t just for show and she knows

She drops one of her gloves as she goes (I’m tired of the glass slipper/shoe plot, fight me)

Lena retrieves it and asks Alex to do everything in her power to find the girl

Only Alex is too late and Kara turned back into a random domestic by the time Alex runs past her on her horse

Life goes on 

Lionel Luthor finally comes back on his decision to have his beloved daughter only marries nobility. 

He dies with his last words being “find that girl, whoever she is, and marry her. Be happy, my darling.” 

So Lena search, helped by every single soldier in the kingdom (and damn, it’s a lot)

Jeremiah finds the other glove in Kara’s not so secret box under the floor and decides he will never allow for such union (basic homophobic asshole)

He locks Kara in the attic (maybe there’s kryptonite involved, because I’m still not sure I should keep the Kyrpton/Alien Kara in this AU) 

Alex comes knocking, just because she has to be thorough

She hates her father but well, just in case ... 

And she’s about to leave when she hears a song (LAVENDER GREEN DILLY DILLY LAVENDER BLUE) coming from somewhere in the higher parts of the house

She searches and finds Kara

Makes her try the glove and OH IT FITS would you look at that

She brings the girl back to the palace and Lena just SWOONS the moment she lays eyes on the blonde angel

AND THEY LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER

I’m off

[sichengtual]

jihoon had never really felt the need for a travel buddy, until he finds himself alone in europe on christmas night. cheers to long lost friends and warm strudels! 

— pairing: lee jihoon x reader.

— au: friends to lovers, writer!jihoon. 

— genre: fluff.

— word count: 1864.

— song: we all fall in love sometimes — elton john.

this is for linh, from your tct secret santa! i really enjoyed writing this for you, and i hope you’re having a merry christmas and some very happy holidays! 

The scene in front of him is almost a perfect one. Sitting down in the middle of a cheery café, Jihoon can’t help but wonder what it would take to complete the picture. 

There’s a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee rising from his cup, meeting his nose in the form of thick, creamy wisps of warm steam. He can see them clearly in this lighting; soft, color-tinged light coming from the stained glass lamps that almost cover the entire roof, illuminating the entire place like a sort of luminous kaleidoscope. Just like every Christmas night (according to a bright red flyer pasted on the door), a live band plays instrumental covers of famous festive pieces, accompanied with the occasional singing of the clients. There’s the distinctive sound of an espresso machine mixing in with the music, all blending together with happy cheers and excited conversations. 

The place was nothing fancy; full of small families and large groups of friends. Everyone is happily drinking from a colorful assortment of cups that assured each and every one of the clients held a different one, including Jihoon’s pastel blue mug, and snacking on the varied home-made pastries. 

In the end, the only person Jihoon could see sitting alone in the vivid establishment is himself. Everyone around him is talking loudly to one another, laughing at inside jokes in words he can’t really understand if he’s not actively focusing on it. 

He can see people passing by from the large window in the opposing wall, the stars in the night sky shining bright over their heads, and it strikes him: he’s by himself, in a foreign country, being alone in all the possible senses of the word. There’s really not much he can do except sip on his coffee and write along in his notebook, listening to the music and occasionally looking up to appreciate the carved wood decorations laid all over the cabinets. 

He had, much to all of his friends’ dismay, hopped on a plane in an effort to cure his writer’s block with a bit of foreign inspiration, looking for new, exciting people that could somehow inspire new, exciting stories. And he had been successful, or at least effective, no matter how much he wishes he could have someone to share a cup of coffee with in the middle of a bursting restaurant. 

“Jihoon? Do you mind if I join you?” He hears, and can’t help but think of the irony behind his last thought and the incoming question. 

The voice comes to him like a flashback from his past: from breaks spent together in highschool, sharing snacks while sitting down on the staircase. It’s soft as he thinks back of a childhood spent together but an adulthood spent apart, of old friends separated by the harsh passing of time. 

“The waiter said there aren’t any free tables left, but since we’re both alone, I thought we could share. He offered me a place at the bar, but it’s right next to where the band is playing. ” 

He’s not sure what to answer, because he’s not even sure what to think. He’s surprised, wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights as he looks up at you, recognizing you as he thinks of how different you look. 

“Alone?” Jihoon asks, finally finding his voice as he closes his notebook. “How did you know?” 

“I saw you through the window,” the voice adds. “That… sounds weird, sorry. What I mean is I was waiting to get in and saw you while I was in the queue. A table for one is not that hard to recognize.”

Jihoon nods. “Sit down, it’s alright.” 

And so you do, looking all over the place as you do in an attempt to take everything in. Because honestly, your surroundings are a lot to process when you think of all the colors, sounds and scents mixing in like some sort of surrealist artwork you still don’t understand. You try to divert your eyes from the guy sitting in front of you, his platinum blonde hair falling over his face as he looks down and writes in his notebook. 

“I’ve never been here,” you comment. 

And Jihoon looks up, because even though you had asked to accompany him at the table, he wasn’t really expecting a conversation. He always welcomed one, though. 

“Me neither,” he says. “I’m just here on vacation.” 

“Yeah, me too,” you answer.

“On the holidays?” 

“Well, what a better place to experience the season’s magic than getting to travel the world, don’t you think?”

The waiter arrives. Following your old friend’s advice, you order a latte and a warm apple strudel (the latter being a suggestion from the waiter because, after all, it was the house specialty). Jihoon gets a refill for his coffee and a pastry just like yours before the waiter walks away after being called to another table. 

“Are you writing?” You ask, pointing to the small notebook as you take off your scarf. It’s burning hot against your neck now that you’ve finally found refuge from the cold. 

Jihoon nods. “I’m working on a story. That’s the reason I’m here.” 

“A Vienna love story?” 

“Could be. I… still don’t know the route it will take,” he confesses. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the waiter finally passing your order to the baristas. “I’m just jotting down ideas as they come to me.” 

“You always found inspiration in the strangest of places,” you say. Jihoon smiles at the words, a soft laugh accompanying them. “A whole different country, for example.”

In all honesty, Jihoon had never thought he’d ever see you again. You had moved away for college and never really met up again, both of you way too busy with your own lives to find some middle ground. Or even look for it. He had buried himself in trying to write the next big literary classic, and you were completely dedicated to doing your own thing. In the end, it had all seemed way more demanding than trying to catch up with the person that used to steal your blueberry jelly-beans when you were kids. 

You look away from him as your coffee arrives. The moment you set your eyes on it you’re happy you listened to Jihoon’s advice, the creamy foam on top showcasing a clearly drawn tulip. You’re also met with a steaming, puffy bun covered in fine powdered sugar, some of it instantly melting as a product of the heat. 

“I never expected to find you here,” you comment as you empty a small packet of sugar into your coffee. “I mean, no one expects to find their old childhood friend while vacationing in Europe, but still. It’s a nice surprise.” 

And he agrees, because out of his entire trip, seeing you here had been what had taken him by surprise the most. It almost felt like going back in time, or being in an alternate universe, following a completely different timeline. Somehow, being with you inside a small, quaint café in downtown Vienna feels like a big what if, completely different from the route your lives had taken. 

It seems like a story told by a different narrator, actions improvised and producing an entirely different outcome. And it feels nice. 

“It’s weird,” he says. He takes a sip of his coffee, feeling the warm beverage travel down his throat, soothing it. “I don’t know if it will sound crazy, or just extremely weird, but it almost feels as if time hasn’t passed at all.” 

“What, are you still stuck in the marvelous nineteen’s?” You joke. He smirks in your direction as a retort to your words.

“It just feels way too familiar, even when it’s entirely different,” he adds. 

“It’s just us having been good friends, once upon a time,” you say. “I guess the bond still exists, even if it’s buried deep inside.”

You notice him staring as you bite into your strudel, but you don’t really make anything out of it, because as he looks at you under the colorful light, he knows what the what if refers to. What if he had told you how he felt back then? How we was completely in love with you, knowing you like the back of his hand and thinking he really could see himself sharing his life with you as he always had. 

“Oh, I read your book when it came out last year!” You comment excitedly, once you’ve swallowed down the treat. “I can’t believe I was childhood friends with this generation’s Shakespeare.”

Jihoon laughs, feeling the blood rising to his cheeks. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, it was amazing!” You continue. “You were always so amazingly talented. Even my mom read it, and you know the only things she ever reads are the nutritional tabs when she goes grocery shopping.” 

“God, do you remember going grocery shopping with your mom, though?” 

“You were always her favorite, she kept buying you those chilli powder candies in exchange of you backing her up with her choice of chips.”

“I can’t believe I agreed on buying family-sized sour cream chips only on the promise of tangy chilli powder candies.” 

And he laughs. He laughs, wholeheartedly, throwing his head back as he feels a weight finally being lifted from his shoulders. He laughs, to his entire soul’s content, for once being able to get lost in the feeling of it. It’s a feeling he knows, a feeling he misses, and it feels like coming home. Somehow, despite being miles and years away, your smile has brought him back to days spent in the sun, basking in the warmth of the summer. 

He looks at you, a big grin plastered on both of your faces, a direct aftermath of the laughter, and he can’t help but feel like he’s just been given a second chance. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in coincidences, but as you look back at him, smiling as wide as your face allows, it almost feels as if the entire universe has conspired in reuniting you, once again, on Christmas night in a foreign country. 

The band begins to play a very familiar song, one he can easily recognize even when the words sung are not ones he understands. But it speaks of home, and of love, and it’s finally, once and for all, something he can be completely sure he’s feeling. 

And so he opens his notebook, his pen rolling effortlessly over the thick, creamy paper as he writes down the title of his next novel, undoubtedly his biggest hit to date. His first ever dedication, completely inspired by the moment he’s sharing with you. And the moments he hopes will come. 

It’s a tale of two lovers separated by the cruel will of life, finally finding each other a thousand moonlights since their ways had parted. It’s a tale of hope, of love conquering even with the odds completely not in its favor. It’s a tale of luck, after all, of second chances finally allowing for happiness. 

He smiles when he reads the words.  

Coffee, Vienna, and love regained.

[harringtonstudios]

best friend’s ex.

plot: he’s your best friend’s ex and you should stay away. 

A/N: i wrote this in one sitting and it’s very long <3 took some creative liberty here so imagine 2020!kells but he hasn’t made it just quite yet in the industry. this is heavily based off the song release tonight with blackbear so enjoy (maybe while listening!)

masterlist!

The circles in New York are different than the ones in Los Angeles. There’s a hint of familiarity in the New York circles, everyone seems to know each other connected by one person or a distant story of that one night the whole crowd tripped on molly. It’s dizzying, intricately knowing every single person backstage or at some club without recognizing them exactly.

You haven’t gotten used to the life, not yet acclimated with the high-fives and looks thrown your way at a party, or the nameless phone numbers crowding your text messages. It’s all new, fun and exciting and you have no one to thank but your best friend.

She’s made for this life, for the late nights and the rushes, the sticky floors and glittery lipgloss. This is her environment, where she thrives, and sometimes when you look at her in the club, necklaces shining with the overhead lights, you find it hard to connect this Domi to the one who you’ve seen crying on your bedroom floor after watching a despairing animal shelter commercial. But then she throws you a grin, crowds close, drapes her arm over your shoulder, and it just makes sense.

It’s been years of friendship, ever since you two met at freshman orientation for college. Her roommate was terrible, and more often than not, she’d be camping out on your twin-sized bed, offering you bites of her snacks in exchange for a safe haven. You both hadn’t really been into the party scene at school, too busy scrambling for reports and fibbing results for the endless lab sessions.

Domi graduated a semester early, spent an entire summer taking accelerated classes so she could go fly off to New York right before the new year started. That’s when things seemed to change. You’d been upset with her, hints of jealousy tinging in when she’d send you pictures of fancy clothes and people she was hanging out with, the nicely decorated venues she’d find herself in. She invited you to come to the city a few weeks in, buzzing on Facetime about backstage passes.

Then you were graduating yourself, packing two suitcases and jetting halfway across the country to live in the shitty apartment Domi’d been renting out with a couple of strangers. It had been hard to settle down at first, the air was different in the city and you’d had to up your resting bitch face game when you sat on the subways late at night, but before you knew it, you were enjoying the city that never sleeps, best friend right by your side.

Colson had stumbled into your life a year ago, and then been ripped out six months after. He was a up and coming musician (self-proclaimed) and had taken a chance bet on the city, moved from Cleveland with his friends and a mixtape. He was beautiful in a rugged way, angled cheekbones and lanky limbs, but Domi had taken one look and called dibs, so you tampered any attraction down.

It hadn’t taken long for them to start dating, even if Domi claimed they were just fooling around, it was clear to see that there was some level of intimacy there, a relationship itching to be formed. You’d been happy for her truly and it was easier than you’d expected to fall into a camaraderie with the guys.

Colson’s friends were funny, quick on their toes and absolutely chaotic. They fit into New York better than you did, and almost every single night, you would find yourself at their apartment, playing shitty drinking games and jamming to loud music.

Domi kept the relationship as lowkey as she could, and at some point, you would hear less and less about Colson. It didn’t really hit you then, but it was the beginning of the end in a way, and then she was walking in, eyes red and wet before yelling out the fated words, “We broke up.”

Everything you had gotten used to was suddenly taken away. You spent weeks consoling her, reminding her that she was better than this guy, stronger and that time was the only way this would heal. She begrudgingly listened, and then took your phone from you, casually blocking Colson’s number along with all his friends.

At first, you’d been mildly upset. She was the one who’d fucked up, the one who’d decided to break up with him, so why was this effecting you? It didn’t make sense, they were still your friends and you liked them more than anyone else you’d met here.

But then she’d given you her patented puppy dog eyes, and you’d dismissed it, decided that if this was what she wanted, so be it. You could stand to lose the drunken nights, your liver would thank you.

Colson Baker and his friends disappeared from your life as fast as they had appeared into it. You spent your nights cooking at home instead of going out, focused on building back your sleep schedule instead of getting drunk off your mind, and the days went by.

-

Of course, nothing lasts forever and six months later, your coworkers’ are begging you for a night out, like the old times. Everyone’s antsy for your reply, know that you haven’t been to a social function with them in ages, and you take one look at their faces before sighing and agreeing.

The entire office claps, you flip them all off before catching sight of your boss, who simply smiles and shakes his head. There’s a faint flutter in your stomach, memories rising from months ago, parties and late nights, flashes of lights and thumping music. You shrug it off, tap your pen against the desk, bring your focus back to work.

Three hours later, you’re catching the train back home. It isn’t exactly rush hour yet, you’ve gotten out a little earlier than usual, Friday evenings usually being dull at work anyway and you’re glad because there’s less people mulling around in the sticky heat of the train station.

The station doesn’t smell great, there’s a tinge of stale pee filling up the air and you discreetly move to the other side of the station, trying to get as far away from the smell as you can. New York City man.

The train pulls in, and you automatically put in your headphones, music blasting in your ears as you sidle into the train car, passing the passengers coming out. It’s relatively empty, being near the front and you thank the train gods before sliding into an orange seat near the door.

There’s a couple of guys sitting at the other end, they’re loud and boisterous, shoving each other and you give them a once-over before settling into the seat. The train moves, and you pull your purse onto your lap, patting it once before letting your eyes fall close.

The next stop comes abruptly, jolting you out of the little dreamscape you’d created. There’s a shout as the doors open and you pause your music trying to tune into what’s going on. It’s still the group of guys, but now there’s more of them and you roll your eyes at the banter drifting across the car.

The music starts up again and you lean your head back, try to get comfortable again, but it doesn’t work. There’s a weird feeling in your gut, making you uneasy but you brush it off, raise the volume until all you can feel is the dirty bass.

A minute later, someone kicks at your shoes and you open your eyes, ready to angrily scold at them until they can feel the rage across the car.

The words die in your throat. Colson Baker’s standing there in all his glory, lanky arm leaning against the metal, blonde hair puffing around his head, grin lighting up his face.

His nose is pierced now and you take it in, the way it brings out his eyes and you pause the music mumbling out, “Nose ring looks good on you.”

You bite your tongue right after, embarrassed that after months of silence that’s the first thing that falls out of your mouth. He laughs, body shaking and you’re flashed back to nights in his apartment, watching him laugh on the other couch, head thrown back.

“Thanks,” he murmurs before going, “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you answer honestly and there’s another shout from across the car, Colson turning to wave a hand.

“It’s the guys. They didn’t think it was you, but I could tell yanno,” he explains and you raise your eyebrows as he continues, “They’re all still kinda pissed you blocked us.”

The statement falls between you two, awkwardly as the train car rumbles on. You wince a little as he fake coughs to fill the empty space.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about all that man. You guys were like family,” you carefully mention, hands playing with the hair tie on your wrist.

“It’s cool. I get it, I mean we both know Domi,” he stammers out and his own hand goes to rub at his chin.

This conversation isn’t what either of you expected and you shift up in your seat, trying to change the topic at the mention of your best friend.

“So what’ve you been up to?” you ask and he smiles at the gateway question, eager to get rid of the uncomfortable energy.

“Got signed to a record label,” he murmurs and the smile that takes over your face is unreal. There’s pride blooming in your chest.

“No way!! Oh my god, congrats dude. That’s killer,” you gush out and his cheeks taint red at your words.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes meeting yours.

“I knew you’d do it. You’re immensely talented,” you continue on as the train comes to a stop.

It’s not yours but it seems to be his. The guys all shout over at him and he’s looking up and then gazing at you, caught between the two options before he makes up his mind.

He doesn’t choose you, you’re not surprised.

“I appreciate you!” he shouts out before running off the car, joining the rest of the guys on the station.

You turn in your seat and wave at them, catching a couple of glares and hesitant waves back before the car pulls away, to the next destination.

The music starts up again and you will your heart to slow down for reasons you can’t even comprehend.

-

Domi gives you a look as you rush into your room. Usually after work, you spend time in the kitchen, milling around grabbing little snacks as she cooks, but you actually have plans tonight.

It’s the first time you’re going out in months and you take a quick shower before pulling out all the old outfits you’d shoved into the back of your closet.

There’s a nice dress, black with faint traces of glitter and you eye it for a second before deciding against it. This is a fun night with the coworkers, not your insane best friend who’d always managed to get you to dress your very best.

There’s a pair of skinny jeans tossed into a dresser, and you eye the rips in it before pulling it on. It looks good, tight in all the right places and you root around for a shirt that can be just fancy enough.

There’s a nice purple one tossed in the closet, slipping off of a hanger and you grab it before pulling it on and tying it up in the front.

It’s pretty, makes you look just right and you play around with your hair before sitting down and committing to a makeup look.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re throwing your keys, a pack of gum, gloss and your phone into a small purse. It hangs off of your wrist and you take a look in the mirror before stepping out of your room.

“Where are you going?” Domi asks, her tone slightly cold.

“Night out. Coworkers invited me and I couldn’t say no,” you explain, running your hands down the jeans.

“Oh,” her face falls.

“Do I-look good?” you ask hesitantly.

“Yeah. You always do bitch,” she half-heartedly adds and you smile at her.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you say, grabbing a carrot from the countertop.

“I’ll wait up,” she smirks and you nod before heading out the door.

The club’s only a few stops away and when you swipe your metro card again, you groan at how low the funds are running. You haven’t filled it just yet, and the $1.25 flashes up at you, taunting.

“I’m poor,” you scoff at the machine and the girl swiping next to you laughs.

You get in somehow, sneakily using the swinging baby stroller door and by the time the train pulls up, you’re only running a few minutes late.

It only hits you when you sink into the familiar orange seat that you didn’t tell Domi about running into her ex. You know she doesn’t care as much about Colson now, scorchingly refers to him as that one rapper, but it’s an unspoken rule. You always tell if you run into the ex.

Your fingers tap against your phone screen, wondering if texting her is appropriate but you drop it quickly. It’s not a big deal. You’ll just let her know when you get home tonight.

The doors open, you leave and then you’re stalking towards the club doors, eyeing the long line. The bouncer is staring everyone down, and you wade up to the front. You’ve learned enough tricks in the short party lifestyle you’d had.

“I’m with the VIPs,” you flash your ID and then a $5 discreetly tucked under it. He looks you up and down, grumbles slightly before taking the money from you.

The rope opens and you smile before stepping through into the dark. It’s loud inside already, the lights contrasting the slight evening colors from outside. You look around before you spot the team and walk over to them.

“Hey!!!” they exclaim and then you’re being handed a glass, cheering the night as everyone drinks it down.

It’s tequila, stings in the back of your throat and you cough before wiping your mouth, “God, I haven’t had this in so long.”

“See that’s why we needed you out tonight,” one of them goes, checking your shoulder with theirs. You laugh before agreeing and order your drink of choice, chiming into the conversation.

It’s going so well, the night seems to be twinged with good vibes. You feel nice and loose, arm draped over your nearest friend as you two sway at the songs playing.

There’s a commotion at the door and you guys turn towards the bouncer only to see people scuffling around, pushing to get closer.

“Hey dude! I’m playing tonight. Musical guest here!!!” comes a loud voice, and it rings familiar in your head. It’s faint, digging somewhere into the back of your mind and you get on your tip-toes trying to see.

“Fuck you,” someone else spits and it echoes around the club.

The crowd splits open then, and you get a glimpse at old friends, adjusting their hats as they stalk across to the stage.

Rook’s fuming as he walks past you, and you spot the tell-tale crease on his face, the grit of his teeth. It scares you, the memory of it all after late night game losses, the way he would blow a gasket about cheating.

Slim and Baze wander behind him, they seem cooler, always are, but the anger is brimming under and you look away as they pass you.

AJ isn’t there and you guess he’s already in the club. He’s always been the sensible one, stable and ready to take control of the situation when it inevitably turns bad.

Colson’s following the rest but his eyes are on the crowd, hand going out to meet people, smiling at everyone. There’s a faint cut on his lip, blood trickling out and you want to scream at him. He comes up around to where you’re standing, and you step back, let your coworkers high five him as he passes.

He doesn’t see you, it’s better that way.

You order up another drink, ignore the whispers of the pesky rapper as they fill up the air around you. He’s well known here apparently, people aware of him in the scene. They mumble about the fights, the way he never seems to show up without a cut or bruise.

You take a shot, sip at the alcohol, smile fading as your coworker ravishes on about how good looking the musician is.

It takes about twenty minutes, and then the music shuts off. There’s a squeal of microphone feedback and everyone around you ducks, hands rushing up to cover their ears.

“Fuck,” a mumble comes across the sound system.

There’s another shuffle and your friend grabs your arm, pulling you closer to the stage. There’s already people there, milling around, clutching drinks and you try to stay on the sidelines, out of view.

“We should go closer,” he determines and then you’re being pulled forward again, swimming around in the second row.

Colson is standing front and center in all his glory. The shitty lighting makes him glow, and he looks big, energy filling him up. He pulls the mic off the stand and steps back before going, “Afternoon. We are Machine Gun Kelly.”

The name isn’t familiar. You don’t know it and quite frankly, it doesn’t place anywhere either but that’s all you get before the music starts up. It’s weird, a pace you don’t expect from him and then he’s off, singing with a grit in his voice, fingers flying across a guitar draped over his shoulder.

Everyone seems to bob along in the crowd and you do too, losing yourself in the way he sounds, the tone of his voice as he croons. The music is great, drums harsh and strong, guitar loud behind the vocals.

The set’s over quick and you’re slightly sweating by the end of it. He thanks the crowd before jumping off stage, and you immediately retreat back to the bar, anxious to steer clear of him.

Even in your drunken state of mind, it’s a bright red flashing light: Stay away from Colson. Stay away from the guys.

You switch to water for a while, try to stop your head from spinning with the lights. Everyone you came with is somewhere on the dance floor, so when an arm drapes on your shoulders, you freeze up, still facing the bar.

“Hey,” and then you’re looking up at Slim’s face, sweaty and eager.

“Slim,” you breathe out, vice in your chest loosening at the fact that it isn’t Colson. You don’t know why this is better, but it is.

“What’re you drinking?” he asks, hand going up to call over the bartender.

You don’t have the heart to say water, know that he’ll laugh and then get you a beer, so you murmur, “Get me a shot of vodka?”

His smile widens and he shouts the drink order over the counter before dropping his arm, “You sipping the hard stuff now?”

Shaking your head, you respond, “I’ve always drank the hard stuff.”

“Yeah, back when we hung out,” he slips into the banter, and your heart stops. You didn’t realize it had hurt them this bad, that months later, drunk and high off of a good show, Slim still manages to bring it up, voice tightening slightly.

“Look, I’m sorry about all that. I really am,” you start, but then he’s passing you the drink and locking arms.

“Cheers,” he says and you clink your shot glass against his, tipping it back.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out but he throws you a look.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says and then he’s shouting out, “Yo Kells!”

It clicks into place then, the Machine Gun Kelly. It’s his nickname, has been for years apparently since he was rapping in middle school hallways, but he’d always introduced himself as Colson to new friends, let them decide whether the Kells fit him or not.

You hadn’t called him Kells once, in the months of knowing him, had laughed about it a couple of times with Domi, who loved to mock it any chance she could.

“You stalking me?” Kells sleazes out, there’s already a drink in his hand, someone following him around with bright eyes.

“No,” you state, moving away from the counter. The red lights are in full effect, this could end up terribly.

“Seems like it,” he sums up, coming in closer to lean against the bar. His lip is still cut, looks swollen as he approaches you.

“You fucked up your lip,” you state, mind cursing at the lack of filter you seem to have around your best friend’s ex.

“What?” he goes, and then his fingers are rubbing at the fat lip, eyes scrunching, “Guess I did.”

“Well it was nice to see you again,” you try.

“I just got here, you leaving already?” he murmurs, brushing off the person following him.

Slim’s moved to the other end of the bar, Rook’s throwing you a glare.

“Don’t think your friends want me around,” you nod over.

He turns his head and makes some kind of motion. Rook drops his eye contact, head going to duck at the bar. Slim smiles.

“They don’t know what’s good for them,” he mumbles, head turning back. His fingers tap at the bar, and there’s a beer appearing. He smiles at the bartender.

“I’m good for them?” you scoff, there’s a hint of bitterness at your tone, but it’s not directed exactly at them. It isn’t their fault.

“Always have been. The good influence when we would try and do stupid shit,” he says thoughtfully. He’s almost as drunk as you, eyes slightly red.

You laugh at that, “You’re always doing stupid shit. Great set by the way, impressed the fuck out of me.”

“You didn’t expect it?” he says as if you were supposed to have known all his songs by heart.

“I haven’t heard any of your music,” you honestly reply.

“Not even the mixtapes?” he seems shocked.

“No, Domi never sent them to me and you all just assumed so,” you stop yourself, falling into dangerous territory.

At the name drop of his ex, he winces a little, “God she was a fucking head-case.”

“Hey that’s my best friend you’re talking about,” you shout a little too loud. You catch Slim slamming a hand onto Rook’s shoulder. The air becomes stifled.

“Sorry,” Colson offers, taking a long, pointed sip.

You sigh, “Don’t be. She can be a little much sometimes. I’m sorry for how it all ended.”

“You should hang with us tonight,” he calmly says, switching the subject. Your breath catches in your throat.

“I don’t know-“ you start.

He cuts you off, “I get it. If you want, we’ll be here for a while. Find us.”

That’s all you get and then he’s walking towards the gang, slipping into the crowd. You drop your head onto the shell covered bar, groaning out.

-

The night dwindles down, your coworkers trickle out, slamming messy kisses on your face before walking out. You’re left by yourself soon enough and there’s a pulsing in your head, matching the music vibrating under your shoes.

It doesn’t take long to decide. You want to hang out with Colson and them, with Machine Gun Kelly. It’s a bad idea, you can tell before you’ve even fully determined it, but it’s as if fate’s lined everything up for you. It’s gonna happen.

You push away the nagging thoughts, wander around the club trying to find someone, coming up empty. Everyone seems to have left and you roll your eyes before stepping out yourself. Maybe fate doesn’t want this to happen.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you spot Rook across the street, blunt in hand. He hasn’t seen you, looking down at his shoes but you know him well and if he’s around it means the others are close by.

You brace yourself, work up some form of courage and walk over. He looks up at the sound and there’s immediate dislike flashing across his face.

Out of everyone, Rook’s been the most temperamental. You’d thought it was going to be Colson at first glance, but were quickly proven wrong by his friend, by the harshness of his demeanor at times. He doesn’t hide his feelings, and while you respect that, you’re also intimidated by his posturing.

“Hey Rook,” you mumble.

“Y/N,” he bluntly states.

“How have you been?” you try, but immediately know it’s the wrong thing to say.

“Cut the shit. What’d you want?” he bites out, eyes hard.

“Was wondering if I could catch a ride with you guys?” you question. 

AJ usually drives them around, his black van large enough for the gang, and his self control strong enough to stay sober. You don’t know if it’s changed since the last time everyone hung out, but you’re hoping it hasn’t for the sake of your almost empty metrocard.

“Why’d you think we drove here?” he’s shrugs, giving you a hard time, and you shake your head wondering if your pride is worth this.

“Never mind dude,” you turn around but then he’s groaning behind you.

“Yeah we’ll take you back home. Kells’ kill me if I let you walk around here drunk. C’mon,” he says and you try to hide your smile as you follow him.

He takes a few more hits before tossing his blunt to the ground, and you’re glad he hasn’t offered you any. It would be too forgiving of him, too close to what you all used to be, and you wouldn’t know what to do if it came to that. Domi would kill you, hell she’d kill you if she knew you were getting into a car with them right now.

He stops in front of the familiar van, opens the door with force and everyone’s shouting inside, clambering over each other. You almost smile at the chaos, the familiarity of it all.

“Y/N!” Colson’s shouting and you do smile then. He slumps over long limbs and comes over to the door, reaching his hand out to you.

“You coming with us?” he asks and you nod before Rook mutters, “She needs a ride home.”

Colson purses his lips before looking back over at you, hand still outstretched, “Yeah, c’mon in. AJ got you.”

It’s late, later than you should be out and there’s a reminder that Domi’s waiting for you back home, wants to hear about your night. Your resolve flickers the minute his hand wraps around yours.

He tugs you in the van, and you follow, stepping in before they all scatter around, making enough space. There’s another girl with them, someone you don’t remember meeting or knowing but she smiles at you and curls into Rook’s side.

The music in the van is almost as loud as in the club, filling up the space. You wonder, not for the first time, how AJ drives like this, how he casually sings along, fist bumping the rest of the guys after a song.

Before you know it, there’s a blunt being passed around. Colson skips you on the first round, and you try not to let it hurt, remind yourself that you’ve stung them harder than this, hurt them worse.

He leans into your space after handing it off, whispers, “You still don’t smoke right?”

There’s a painful twist in your stomach at his question. When you all first met, you wouldn’t smoke blunts with them, hesitant about the strain and Domi’s eyes on you. She hated weed, despised the smell and would always remind you of that fact before you’d all spend the night out.

After the breakup, she’d loosened up on that, didn’t care if you smoked out on the fire escape, and sometimes even joined in, it was weird. Weirder than the fact that Colson somehow remembered all this months later.

“I do,” you whispered back, licking your lips, “smoke I mean.”

“Oh,” he softly says and then the blunt’s coming back around. He barely takes a hit before handing it off to you, pushing your hand slightly with his fist.

“Thanks,” you mumble, smoking it in. It’s strong, brings an immediate rush. You close your eyes.

When you open them, Colson’s too close to you. The red lights flash hard in your head and then the car’s stopping in front of their building.

You don’t even hesitate, “Is it wrong if I come up with you?”

His eyes look into yours, it’s quiet enough that you feel the weight of your statement sink in. This is bad, so bad.

He doesn’t say anything but everyone around you is moving, pulling off instruments and slamming doors. He carefully takes your hand, pulls the blunt out from your other one.

“AJ, we’re gonna chill for a while,” he says, towards the front seat, giving him the blunt. There’s a hum and then he’s opening the door, pulling you out just as he’d pulled you in.

For a second, you hesitate and then you’re falling into him. His arm wraps around your hips, pulls you back up on the sidewalk.

“You okay?” his voice is quiet, the world still moves around you both but it feels like you’re the only two people who matter.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Wanna go home?” he says, and the words hit you for a second before you shake your head.

“No, this is cool,” you tongue out.

You’re both walking into the building then, satisfied with your answers. The manager gives you a once over at the front desk but that’s all before Colson’s thumbing the elevator button.

“What about everyone else?” you murmur.

He looks at them unloading the van and lets out a laugh, fingers tightening slightly against yours as he shakes, “They’re gonna be busy a while.”

You laugh back, try to tamper down the feeling of seeing him full-body laugh for the second time that day. The elevator dings and you step in, he follows.

It’s the same damn elevator as it was six months ago, but there’s something different in the air right now. It’s staticky, thrumming through you and it feels like you’re stumbling right on the edge of something.

The doors close, it’s just you and him. The feeling gets stronger, his fingers loosen against yours. You grip harder and he looks up straight into your eyes.

The door dings open again and he huffs a little, “Forgot to click the button.”

You smile but it feels thin. Your brain is flashing wrong, flashing red, screaming Domi’s name, but your heart is racing, pounding against your chest.

You screw your eyes shut.

He hits the button, the elevator starts going and you step closer to him. His back is against the elevator wall and there’s a calm look on his face, but you can tell he’s nervous, can feel it in the clamminess of his palm where it’s sticking to yours.

“I’m going to kiss you,” you blurt and you don’t even have time to regret the words before he’s pushing into you, lips finding yours within seconds.

They’re warm and softer than you expected. He lets out a groan as you kiss back, and you’re reminded of his cut, the swollen lip he’s sporting now. You move back, rest your forehead against his.

“Sorry, your lip,” you attempt to explain, but he shakes his head, forehead sliding across yours, twisting it.

“I like it,” he mumbles and you smile before kissing him again, feeling his arm wrap around you, pull you closer.

It’s the first time you’ve kissed him, he’s strictly off limits, a forbidden idea, but it feels like everything has suddenly fallen into place. The warning signs dissolve into bursts of serotonin as he makes little sounds, pressed up with your mouth.

The door dings open. You break apart and step out. Is kiss drunk a thing, or are you losing your mind? He grins at you, pulls your joined hands up for a soft kiss brushing on your knuckles.

Your heart flutters right then. If you’re losing your mind, you’re glad it’s with him. Dealing with the aftermath is something you’ll do later, so you push all thoughts of Domi and her complications aside and follow him straight into his apartment, consequences be damned.

-

taglist:  @iamdorka @no-shxt-sherl @bakerkells @findingmyths @rosegoldrichie​ @mayaslifeinabox​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @hnbtx @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​ @sophroniaa​ @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused​ @calum-defense-squad​

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k  i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:  

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:  

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

[aethersea]

you know what, I never do these things, but actually I’ve decided I would like to get to know people better! I would like to partake of the mortifying ordeal! I would like to talk about myself for a bit!

ok for the next...let’s say five days I will answer any of these things that people tag me in, or any random personal questions you plop in my ask box. I don’t have an ask meme on hand but just....pick one you’ve seen recently, or make up questions of your own, and I’ll answer. (the answer might be ‘nope that’s private’ but I will answer.) (@ the anon who asked for book recs - I see you, I’ve been thinking of books all day, I’m going to give you SUCH a long answer, I hope you don’t regret your choices bc it WILL be full of gushing)

alright, let’s go!

🌻 Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @booksandchainmail​

Last Song: I’m currently listening to “Falcon in the Dive” from the Scarlet Pimpernel musical on loop. I watched one or two Scarlet Pimpernel movies when I was just barely too young to fully get what was going on, and the story’s held an odd but deep-seated place in my heart ever since. A few years ago I found out there’s a musical and most of the songs are pretty stellar (go listen to “Madame Guillotine” if you like big ensemble broadway numbers, it’s a banger, the bit where he cries out for God has been running through my mind on and off for a few days now haha not like that’s topical or anything), so every once in a while I spend a few days listening to them a lot.

Sometime last year I read the actual book, and got super into the whole concept of the Scarlet Pimpernel for a while. I plotted out Pimpernel aus for several fandoms, I read the entire wikipedia article, and I went looking for bootlegs of the musical. I didn’t find one, but I did find a full radioplay-style recording of the script, complete with full musical numbers, and listened to it like a podcast.

Reader, I was so disappointed. The play adds some scenes, bc a lot of the dramatic tension of the novel comes from internal conflict and that doesn’t stage super well, and the very first scene of this play – a play written in the NINETIES – features our dashing hero rescuing some aristocrats from a French prison, and then saying to the person in the next cell, who begs for rescue but is not an aristocrat, “We have enough of your kind in England.”

Enough! of your KIND! What in the merry frickety HECK my dudes!! The book has some rather unfortunate™ takes but it is from 1905, it’s regrettable but sadly to be expected. This play is from 1997. It has NO excuse. This scene wasn’t even in the book! What! the heck!

I was so disheartened that I lost my excitement for the play, and a couple songs later I stopped listening. It occurred to me just a few days ago that you could actually stage that ironically, with the person in the cell giving the audience a “can you believe this” look, and then the rest of the play could feature assorted non-aristocratic ensemble members constantly looking at the audience like they’re on The Office. And hey, maybe that’s what they did, or something similar – maybe that was never meant to be taken as a cleanly heroic stance, and the play deals with it in a complex way. It’s possible. I wouldn’t know. Kinda doubt it though, based on song lyrics.

Favorite Color: red, probably

Last Movie: I watched that new lesbian christmas movie with my family for christmas, the one with kirsten stewart and the guy from schitt’s creek. it’s very sweet and good and kinda sad, and I really enjoyed it. it also incidentally has the best gay best friend trope in probably anything ever, bc it’s not a trope (I didn’t realize until several hours after watching that it technically fits), it’s just a guy who is the protagonist’s best friend, and they’re just all gay, and then when he Gives Relationship Advice as a gay best friend always does, it’s advice about how to deal with your partner’s hangups around coming out.

actually every part of the gay best friend trope becomes better when they’re just best friends who are both gay. the big dramatic gestures (in this case, driving some ungodly distance in the snow on no notice) go from “haha how kooky” to “queer man will do anything he needs to to rescue his queer friend from an isolating & potentially triggering situation”. the relationship advice isn’t “honey you deserve some self-respect, treat yourself”, it’s a deeply sincere reminder of the vulnerability that is shared across almost everyone’s queer experience, and look I could ramble about this for a long time before reaching a coherent point but I’m INTO IT, okay? I’m into it.

Last Show: you want me to remember what show I last finished???? impossible, cannot be done, it was a long time ago and the adhd has eaten everything that happened before last week. here, instead I’ll tell you about another movie I watched, late at night with my mom in cozy companionship just a couple days ago. it’s called Quigley Down Under and it’s about a cowboy who goes to Australia and kills a bunch of racists, 10/10 would watch again. it’s from 1990 but it feels much older, with the music choices and the cinematography of a 70s Western. the cowboy is great, honorable and fearless and kind, but the breakaway star of this movie for me is the woman who attaches herself to his side and refuses to leave. her name is Cora, and she’s crazy, in the sense that she’s not altogether tethered to reality, but this never for a second diminishes her agency. she’s fierce and clever and compassionate, and she basically never does anything she doesn’t want to in the whole movie. her arc is about overcoming trauma by taking charge of her own fear and facing it head-on, she is never belittled or dismissed by the narrative or the protagonist, and look she’s just so cool. I love her. she’s so vibrantly alive. her story could probably have been handled with a bit more nuance, but honestly for the 90s it’s pretty great. I’m no expert, but I found nothing objectionable in it, just a bit of heavy-handedness.

anyway the theme of the movie is that racism is evil and racists deserve to be shot, and this too could have been handled better (not a single aboriginal character speaks a single line of english in this movie), but it follows through on that message in every way, while still being a fun kinda campy cowboy movie. overall a very good time.

Currently Watching: started showing my sister Hilda the other day, and she’s liking it! I love that show, it’s so incredibly cute. can’t wait to see season 2

Currently Reading: lmao I wish. lately the brain has firmly rejected all attempts to read anything of any length. currently pending, bc I was halfway through them when my brain stalled out, are tano’s fic What Does Kill You Can Make You Stronger, Too, a Toby Daye book - I think it was The Brightest Fell, I got like half a chapter in and haven’t picked it up in over a month, the Locked Tomb series, and probably a few other things too. ooh! also a book called Making Sex by thomas laqueur, which is my fancy academic reading that I’ve been doing in short bursts for the past year or two when I feel fancy and academic. it’s about the development of the concept of biological sex and of gender in Western society, and it’s fascinating. has among other things introduced me to the idea that until quite recently, fathers were a matter of faith. the mother? yeah, you can watch the baby pop out, we all know who the mother is. but the father? how can you know? how can you really know? we have paternity tests these days, but for all of human history up until now, we've just had to take fatherhood on faith. (not to mention we didn’t even know what fathers were contributing to the production of a fetus. clearly it was something, since you can’t get pregnant without a penis getting involved, but we have literally not known what until the past few decades. and that is wild. it has colored ALL of human history, all of our conceptions of society and family and kinship and gender, all of it, and it hadn’t even occurred to me until it was spelled out for me in this book, and it’s just......wow.

Salty, sweet or savory: for christmas my sister and I made seven different types of cookie, most of them involving chocolate somehow.

Craving: no bc I ate so many cookies. unless sleep counts. or maybe pringles, it’s been many moons since last I had a potato chip and I miss them.

Coffee or Tea: no thank you

Tagging: @coloursisee, @krchy-tuna, @sam-j-squirrel, @xzienne, @mirandatam, @viciousmaukeries, @sepulchritude, @elidyce, and @navigatorsnorth bc it’s been a while since we’ve talked, and I’m super hyped that you’re married now. v happy for you!

[00gangfriend00]

I was tagged by @jade-marie and @bourbon-ontherocks to list my top 10 books  fics I read in 2020.

and lemme tell you..

i’ve been WAITIN’ for this one!!

This IS a bit tricky because I spent most of 2020 just lurking on AO3, no acccount, no commenting, no kudos. so there are just so so so many fics that I remember pieces of, and have little headcanons that LIVE with me but I have no idea who the author is or what the fic is called.  

so.. that being said, the top 10 is ever changing and could never be fully complete. I just love every author and every fic, you are all so wildly talented. 

❤  a song inside the halls of the dark - ms_scarlet  (@mego42 )

This fic has everything!! a sexy ex-lover rival gang leader, relaxed rio, angry rio, angsty kitchen sex rio. LOFT rio. AND it’s my favourite post-S2 reckoning of all time. There are moments in this fic that I just want to SPAM the gg writing room with. like scrap ur plans. DO. THIS.  Overall, this is such a creative and well-written series.  The characterization is superb, the smut has.... so many feelings, and the angst is AMAZING. There are a couple chapters (I wont give spoilers) that involves Beth in a hotel in Canada that I legit could not stop reading. it’s just all... so damn GOOD. favourite line: You thought I could be something, right? Well, this is that something. The bitch you trained bit back. 

❤  we’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks - BourbonOnTheRocks  (@bourbon-ontherocks)

Whew! this fic has EVERYTHING. safe house brio. KARMA. brio ignoring each other. snippy, cranky brio. baking shows. mick overhearing loud shower sex. zero communication. brio getting high and giggling! all the feelings. I looooove this fic. like I LOVE it.  it's so creative and it feels so real!! I can play it like a movie in my head. There is so much fun smutty build up, so much tension, anxiety and a very, very, good Thaw Of Feelings which is my fav. I will forever have a soft spot for safe house fics, but this one hilariously twists the trope by doubling down on their idiot stubbornness. genius. favourite line:  He's using her and she's using him. Maybe it's the only thing they're truly equal at.

❤  my girl - elizabethmarks (not on tumblr?)

This fic has everything!!!!!!! (but TW that everything is not for everyone, as the plot primarily revoles around a rape scene.) This fic sets up some of the most soft, emotional, protective brio moments. I also adore how this author handles the delicate subject matter. I work from time to time as a crisis advcate for women and ...... this fic is so accurate and well written. All the emotions beth feels, the way rio reacts to her. everything. I have read this SO many times. It also inludes a Mick POV that will TUG at your HEART.  favourite line: *When on route to Rio’s loft* Rio nods, with that gentle look he has. "Alright, mama. Let's get you home." There's a beat, they both catch it, but neither of them make the correction.

❤  working on things - odenkirk (not on tumblr?)

THIS fic, now this fic has everything!!!!!!!!! masturbation! sexting! weed-smokin horny rio! DEAN?!??! in a way that didnt repulse me???? SEX. kinda threesome??? a heck of a lot of things that I didnt think id be into but then read it and was like HUH, guess i AM. and last but not least, deliciously perfect characterization. This is a fic I ask you to take a risk on. It will pay off. Its fun and oooh soooooooo sexy. Yes, dean goes to pound town too, but I promise- odenkirk makes it WORK.  Blush meter: off the charts. I had to put my phone down and reckon with Jesus.  favourite line:   Rio: Don't get precious, sweetheart. It's you cuz it's you.  AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

❤ miles before you sleep - FakePlastikTrees (@nakedmonkey)

THIS AUTHOR has EVERYTHING! FakePlastikTrees is one of those authors where... I read one fic - then buckled my seatbelt and clicked on her account so I could systematically read through every. single. fic. They are often short scenes that feel so true. Her Rio characterization makes me green with (benevolent) envy. and her smut?? oof. top notch.  This fic in particular lives in my heart because it really truly feels like a missing GG scene between Beth and our favourite tattooed babysitter. The atmosphere is tangible and the author slows time down for these two, it stretches out like you are smokin in the suburbs with them. I love a MickFic and this one is top tier. 

favourite line: “Oh come on. He’s a little unhinged.” “Takes one to know one.” 

❤  people can be so cold - s_t_c_s (@sothischickshe)

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh this fic has EVERYTHING. scrabble competitiveness! annie speaking truths! christmas beth! christmas rio?!?! delicious bickering! CABIN isolation!  gift giving perfection! I could go on and on and on.  This fic just pulls you straight in. stcs crafts the timeline so effortlessly, and weaves it with so many endearing and authentic feeling details (beth has her own ‘guys’ now, and we know this bc she gives them sweets and food. OF COURSE) The longing between her and rio is so RICH. if you want your heart to swell a million sizes - this is the fic for you.  favourite line:  They hadn’t – been intimate yet, back when she got him arrested, or the first few times he’d shoved a gun in her face. And the sexual part had been all done and dusted prior to their, god, kidnapping and shooting fiasco. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t present throughout – a hovering spectre, forming a treacherous spine through all their endeavours.

  ❤ listening through the air shaft - ms_scarlet (@mego42)

now this fic. actually for real, has everything. because its every POV you never knew you NEEDED.  and mego42 absolutely nails each and every one. especially Dean. Its a complicated look into his blubbering sexist mind, and misguided fixations that is really well-written. The way in which brio has their own arc throughout the chapters, but told through the eyes of those around them - is amazing. this fic just makes you love every character even MORE.  favourite line: well.. annie, mick and ruby have a group chat and thats all you need to know. anytime that comes up = favourite line.

❤ instigator - nomind (@inyoursheets)

be still my bisexual heart. this fic has everyONE! Yes, this fic dissolves into perfect threesome smut BUT before you get there, you get this awesome set up of a dangerous-feeling connection between Rhea and Beth. They are honest, open and fully acknowledging the fuckedupness of their desire. For how small a part Rhea has in the show - this author NAILS her voice, it’s uncanny. Both of them talking about rio? sign me up. Rio coming home to it? sign me UP.  favourite line: “Jesus,” she hears behind her. “What am I looking at right now?” Rhea smiles down on her, ignoring him, running her fingers through Beth’s hair.

** shout out to another be-still-my-bi-heart fic : @sothischickshe​’s “its a dirty, dirty, game”

❤ do not pass go - linzackles @mrslackles

this. fic. has. every. thing.  I am currently putting every single important thing in my life on hold to PLOUGH through this series. like full speed ahead. UGH. marcus!!! beth and rio at an event! a fancy one! big bad business dudes! betrayal! beth making bad choices! rio unable to fully communicate the weight of his desire for her! angst! just excellent, excellent, excellent plots. i like everything!!!!! favourite line: truly impossible. they are all art. but this one made me cackle.  Shrugging, she responds. In the bathroom, eating nuts.Annie’s reply comes through instantly. Rio’s???????

❤  meet me under the mistletoe - sdktrs12 (@sdktrs12)

this fic.... has.... everything. I want to include this not only because I loooOoOOOved it, but also because this author just has a talent for creating holiday themed brio fics that are not in the slightest cheesy, or forced. which is... hard! to! do! I read her halloween series while in quarantine, and it became apart of my little daily routine. each fic containing at least one moment that made me go AHHH these two!!!!!  so in short - thanks for infusing all my holidays with stellar brio. then christmas comes around and she nails it again! beth and rio begrudgingly working late?   YES. they migh each have a date but they dont DARE talk abut their jealously? YES. Bourbon as a third character? haha YES! Beth looking smokin hot? YES.  favourite line: “Is that your move? Meet me under the mistletoe?”  “Oh baby, you know my moves.”  

and PHEW. there ya go! 

Thank you amazing fanfic authors for making my year 10000000% better. 

I TAG @whiskeyjack @purplemagic @sdktrs12 @joeyjoeylee @ama-ssiempre @roxy206

[herstarburststories]

P and C

A/N: My piece for @jensengirl83‘s 200 Followers Challenge. Congrats again, hon!

Prompt: Oops, how did that get in there?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean feels betrayed-- how could you bring the enemy home?

Warnings: implied smut, Dean being that dramatic dumbass we love

‘’I’m here with a bunch of food that will end up killing you…’’ You wore a large, worriless grin as you walked up the bunker's stairs, gesturing to Sam while you spoke, ‘’And some healthy stuff for you. Please, share with the rabbits.’’

Sam scoffed humorously, discrete mirth on his lips. Dean made his way to the kitchen, abandoning the reading work for the newest case to regain some stamina through food. You started to put the groceries away, humming one of your favorite Eric Clapton melodies. Traditional, domestic duties were properly wasted whenever you had the free time — a luxury to you when boredom was especially rare for a hunter.

‘’You are a lifesaver,” Dean stated, gaining a giggle in response. He rubbed his hands together, multiple bags opened in search of the pie which you promised to buy only to stop two seconds after. ‘’Cocaine.’’

You nodded, not bothering to look up after his right guess. Whatever song you sang, Dean always knew. A nerd for classic rock.  ‘’Good shot, cowboy.’’ 

“Just don't shoot the deputy.”

“Please, I shot the sheriff!”

The eldest Winchester chuckled, continuing his mission to find his favorite meal before burgers. Dean already had the ideal scenario in mind; a whole pie for himself — an apple one if he was lucky —, beer, and a Doctor Sexy marathon.

The Winchester's perfect illusion was cracked by the sight of a certain dessert. He was beyond choked by what could be found in his hands. Horrified, even. You, his own girlfriend, brought a cake into his home.

‘’Y/N, what is this?’’ Dean furrowed his eyebrows, opening the plastic seal of the dessert.

You weren’t sure why he was asking. Last time you checked, his secret sweet tooth liked chocolate. Besides, he didn't appear to be drunk. Your reply came out more like a question than anything else: ‘’A cake?’’

His eyes went wide. ‘’The one who shouldn’t be named!’’

‘’Harry Potter? And you said it was a nerd movie.’’ Sam raised his gaze from the book, watching the scene unfold from the security of the research table. His brother just rolled his eyes at him, too appalled by your crime to give Sammy a witty comeback.

You sighed. ‘’Dean, don’t be dramatic. I’ve seen you eating cake before. We even shared a sli — “

‘’It was a cheesecake, Y/N,’’ Dean interrupted before Sam could catch up on what you said, a flash of pink on his cheeks. You betrayed him enough with the cake instead. The hunter didn't need his little brother making fun of him because you both shared a slice of cheesecake once. Nonetheless, he continued, ‘’There is a huge difference.’’

Dear Chuck, you were about to punch him.

‘’You are right. Cake is better than cheesecake and pie.’’ In the moment the words leave your mouth, you know that Dean will make a big deal out of it. His list of priorities included Sam, you, Cass, the Impala and pie. It was very often in that order, except your position and Sam’s shifted depending on the day. 

But the look on his face was priceless. With his mouth dropped into a silent 'o' and stout shoulders raised, his green eyes clamped onto yours as if he was accusing you of murder.

Thing is, you had killed before. Everyone in that room had their share of deaths, usually in front of and for each other, and never glared at each other like Dean was. The Winchester felt betrayed by the love of his life.

He was in love with someone who liked cake better than pie.

‘’You gotta be kidding me.’’ Dean huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. How could the love of his life say things like that? An accidental gunshot of yours would hurt less; he should know that.

You shrugged. ‘’Cake is fluffier. And softer.’’

‘’Since when is this a good thing? We are talking about food, not a bed." He gesticulated his point with shaking fists, obviously exasperated. You had to bite your cheek inside to contain your laughter. "Pie is more consistent!’’

‘’It's a classy taste, Dean. Besides, cake has frosting!’’

‘’Pie doesn’t need frosting!’’

‘’Guys...’’ Sam tried to interject, but neither of you turned away.

“Cake is so good that there are a lot of kinds: cheesecake, cupcake. What other type of pie is popular other than the usual one?”

“A classic is a classic. It is still consumed all over the world without the fancy stuff. Like a real meal.”

‘’All I hear is old.” Dean gave you an indignant glare, but you keep going anyway, “Cake always has better chocolate than pie.’’

‘’Because pie goes good with fruits and any other flavor, and cake is only good with chocolate.’’

You crossed your arms, a cocky smile filling out your features. ‘’So, you admit that cake is good?’’

‘’You know what? We don’t we find out which one is better now?’’ Dean's suggestion was wrapped up in a daring veil, his true intention proven once he opened the plastic container only to grab a piece of cake and carefully smash it against your cheek. ‘’How does it taste, sweetheart?’’

You had two options: be mad at him or play his game and win.

As Dean wore that lopsided, signature grin while slowly rubbing the cake against your face, the decision was made for you.

‘’What is a good cake without some whipped cream, huh?’’ You smirked, grabbing the whipped cream bottle and spraying on him. With a mask of faux innocence, you asked, “Oops, how did that get in there?’’

Sam finally got up from the chair, slamming a book of Brazilian spells closed as he stalked towards the both of you. ‘’You two, enough! You are acting like children, not two adults in a serious, mature relationship. You’ll end up enacting your weird kinks and leaving the mess for me to clean up, so cut it!’’

Everything is immediately engulfed by silence as Sam's steps making their way to his room along with his huffs. You and Dean looked at each other, shame and guilt spread across on your faces as if your dad had caught you stealing cookies before dinner. 

But it was Y/N /Y/L/N and Dean Winchester. Of course they burst into peals of laughter not even ten seconds after Sammy was gone. The younger Winchester could still hear the noise from the kitchen. He shook his head; you and Dean really were made for each other.

“I feel like I just got grounded by my mom.”

“Yeah, Sammy and his hair. Definitely maternal figure material right there.” Dean rolled his eyes and you chuckled. “You know, he isn't wrong about something.”

Arching your brows, your curiosity followed the green eyed hunter’s mischievous smirk. “What is it?”

He got a bit of whipped cream on his finger, wiping it on your cheek. God, you already knew where your 24/7 let's get to it boyfriend was going.

“We do have a few little kinks here and there.” Dean leaned in and licked the cream from your cheek.

“Ew, you weirdo!” You chuckled, slapping his chest playfully. “But this whipped cream could be useful...” You held the cake container, gaze drifting from it to Dean before gesturing to your pussy with the bottle. “Have your cake and eat it too, yeah?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, tongue pushing against his teeth as he grabbed your waist to pull you closer. “Pie and Cake. P and C. I like where this is going.”

“But first! Let's clean it up, okay?” With a quick peck on the tip of his nose, you pulled away. Dean groaned, but impatience was replaced by a silent contentment that spread through him. After all, the award would be totally worth it.

Precisely one minute passed peacefully: Dean cleaning up the floor and you keeping the groceries until you felt the little devil on your shoulder tickled you teasingly. You decided to play with fire a little more. What could happen?

‘’Hey, Dean.” You got a hmm mumble as response — a surefire signal for you to continue. “A birthday, we celebrate that with pie or cake?’’

Round two, here they go.

Feedback is magic! Leave a comment and reblog. Check my Masterlist. 

Dean's Sweetheart: @akshi8278 (DEAN’S TAGLIST OPEN)

Hunter: @demonhunterbarbie​ (SPN TAGLIST OPEN)

[obx-imagines-07]

Why The Impossible?

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Universe: Outer Banks - OBX

Type: little angst but for a cute reason and ends fluffy

Summary: you never saw the difference between your boyfriend's world and yours, but at the Midsummer your eyes were opened by the security

Request: yes|NO

Prompt: xxx

Warnings: swearing, smoking and drinking

Song: xxx

Word Count: 3.6K

Posted: 23rd of May 2020

A/N: i don't remember the exact same words that they say at the episode, so i'll put what i know, sorry if it goes bad

My Others Accounts: @hp-imagines-07​ (Harry Potter) | @mcu-imagines-07​ (Marvel Comics Universe) | @stit-imagines-07​ (Stranger Things & IT)

Your door opened and you turned around, seeing your mom holding a dress that you couldn't actually see for being under a black bag, but you didn't had to look at it to know why she was bringing you this.

You really wasn't into going to the Midsummer festival, but you really didn't had any other options. Since you started to hangout with the Pogues, you didn't wanted to be part of anything that involved your family or any other Kooks, so it's been 4 years since the last time you went to one of those events with the most boring type of people.

And all the excuses that you could think for not going, where already used before on stupid things - that now you regret using -, and the unique person that could take you out of it was your boyfriend JJ, that you didn't saw him since the cops took him.

So, you were screwed.

"Mom, I really don't want to go." You said, dropping yourself at your bed and letting out a huge breath, just as the dramatic girl you learned to be with your perfect and awesome boyfriend.

She literally ignored your only needy at the moment, and took the black stuff out of the dress, grabbing your attention to the piece of cloth.

It was a gorgeous light blue dress - that reminded you from JJ's eyes -, being tight around your waist, but getting a little more comfortable at your legs, giving you a chance to walk, and being kinda puffy at the region of the breasts, where it dropped a little bit on the middle of them.

You just got hypnotized with the dress, it was just so fucking perfect and, just looking at it, you could tell it would fit perfectly on you.

Your mom looked at you again, seeing your eyes shinning with the beautiful dress that she knew you were going to love and, that way, you would agree to go, just to wear the dress, but she really didn't cared why you were going, she wanted you to be there.

And she knew how the color would remember you from your boyfriend's eyes, so that would do the dress more perfect to you.

All of that, just for you to go to that stupid party and meet a few boring people.

You agreed to go, but you wouldn't stay there for a long time, and your mom was good about it - even if you stayed just for ten minutes, she knew you wouldn't want to take the dress off.

Well, her actual plan is to make you meet other boys and start to date with some idiot Kook, because she doesn't like JJ.

It never made sense to anyone the reason why your mom hated your boyfriend, but you couldn't care less after the moment that you found yourself in love with him and him for you. Except for the fact that your dad actually loves JJ, they got pretty well together, and you couldn't be more happy about it.

You always though that your dad was like your mom, that just cared about money, status and looks, but he was an amazing person, totally different from your mom.

So, you tried the dress on and, oh my god, that dress fitted so perfectly on you that your mom even forgot about her plan, just looking at her gorgeous daughter and thinking about how proud she was about you, but her thoughts stopped as she remembered about your boyfriend.

'How could my little girl be with some pogue, while she has so many kook boys all over her?'

That though really disgusted you, once she said it out loud and you couldn't help but almost slap her plastic full face, being stopped by your dad that immediately told for her to fuck off and just forget about that stupid though.

But she couldn't stop thinking that you should be just like her.

Well, you took the dress off and went to take a bath, while your mom went to starting to get ready for that stupid festival.

The hot water was a good option, but the weather of the day, wasn't helping at all, so the cold water in touch with your muscles, made them got a little tense, but the relieving feeling of the water taking all your worries away could just be compared to the feeling of being with JJ.

You got out of the bathroom and put on a robe, already picking your phone and calling your best friend, Kiara.

"Hey, swetty." You said, sitting at your bed and lightly looking at the dress laid at the other side of the bed and regretting the answer you gave to your mom.

"Hey, girly. Are you going today?" Kie asked and didn't even gave time to you to answer the question. "Because I'm not going alone, you have to go!" She said and you just laughed at her despair.

"I wish I wasn't, girl. I just wanted to see JJ, but my mom won't let me go away from her eyes the entire night, I'm sure about it." You said and Kiara just sighed, already knowing pretty well what your mom was going to try at the night and even being relieved that JJ is not going.

"Is she really going to try to make you get engaged to one of those...?" She asked and you were even able to see her face getting all scrunched up, as she said the word 'those' with venom.

"Just as always." You said and while you rolled your eyes just to think about it, you could heard her heavy breath, showing how tired she was about it. "And JJ won't be there this time, so we could see her face when we kissed in front of some stupid guy. I just wanted to see him..."

"Don't worry, love, you'll see him and I'm sure that he's good, okay?" She tried to calm you down, and it actually worked. "Okay?" Kie asked again, so she could be sure that you were away from having another panic attack.

"I know."

Kiara changed the subject as fast as she could and you talked for about 20 minutes. 

After you said goodbyes to each other, you went to get ready, because if you were already going, you were going good. And to show that a Kook couldn't have it, but a Pogue your Pogue deserved it.

You putted a light make up on, to enhance your natural beauty, your favorite earrings that matched with the dress and the necklace that JJ gave you at your birthday with his initials - that you never took away, but it was the perfect one for this outfit.

As you finished, your dad called you from downstairs asking if you were ready, and all you did was to scream an 'yes' back and went back to look at yourself in the mirror.

If you liked what you were seeing? Hell, yeah. But did you loved it? Kinda of...

Being happy about yourself wasn't the thing that you did the best, but you couldn’t help and feel beautiful on this dress and you finally understood why JJ loved seeing you wearing blue.

A little knock on your door made you get out of your trance and your dad opened the door, he stopped as he saw you and just freezed there.

“You are so beautiful, sweetheart.”

You saw his little heart eyes at you and your heart melt as the difference between the love that your dad gave to you and the ‘love’ - if you could even call it that - from your mother.

You hugged him so tight that if anyone else saw it, would think that you were seeing each other for the last time ever. “Thank you, dad.”

You grabbed your stuff, like cellphone, the lipstick you were wearing and a little pack of cigarettes - that you grabbed from JJ's bag last week and you were keeping them to a moment like this -, and putted everything at your little black purse.

Getting downstairs, you could see your mom with a weird as fuck dress, but that you are sure that she was loving it, and had to hold on a laugh, earning your dad's elbows at your side.

And you went to the party, with an uncomfortable silence at the car, while you pretended to do a little drama so your mom could actually see how you didn't wanted to go at all, and starting to get worried that would make a scene at the party.

It would make her pay attention to you the hole night, but it would be better to see her face when she wouldn't be able to find you.

That would be amazing.

As you got there, it was almost the sunset and you were happy that you got there in time to appreciate the gorgeous view. But your mind changed the image of a gorgeous view at the same second that you saw your best friend with her beautiful dress.

Kie came running to you at the same moment your gazes crashed and embraced you with her friendly heat.

"Oh my god, girl. You're amazing!" You said and looked at her up and down, making Kiara giggle.

"What are you talking about? I'm pretty sure your mirror was really happy to see you..." She said and you laughed at her eyebrows that were going up and down.

You got together and went to somewhere that no one could notice or see you, as you got to a bench that was behind the house and almost no one was there, you took a cigarette out and lighted it.

You and Kie just sat there, watching the sunset and smoking at the silence.

Until you heard your mom's voice calling for you, at the same second you dropped the cigarette and turned off with your fancy heel. Kiara moved her arm at the air so the strong smell would go away and stood up next to you.

"There you are. I looked for you everywhere..." Your mom said and you followed her, while Kie went to the other direction to give you two some space after sending you a little smile and placing her hand at your arm as a support and goodbye.

You and mother just walked to the front yard of the house and at the same moment that you saw Rafe smile with Kelce and Topper, you knew exactly what was happening and you just wanted to kill your mom right now.

"Sweety, you must know Rafe and Topper..." She said when they got closer to you, and you knew that Kelce was there because his friends were.

You just nodded to her, giving a fake smile to the boys and looking around to see if Kie would help you of that, but all you saw was her and Pope smiling and giving thumbs up to you.

You rolled your eyes, knowing that they weren't worried at all to help you again.

"We already know each other, Mrs. [y/l/n]." Rafe said and winked at you, making you throw up at the inside but smile at them. 

"Yeah, we talked once or twice..." You said thinking about the time that JJ putted the gun at Topper's head and the other time that you gave a good punch at Rafe's eyes - that you could even see if payed attention - when they were fighting at that movie day.

Topper and Rafe knew pretty well the moments that you were thinking and they just got more right when you smirked and winked at them, secretly pointing a gun - made by your fingers of course - at Topper.

Topper became so uncomfortable with it that you almost laughed, holding your bottom lip between your teeth, and Rafe cleaned his throat trying to made stuff become more normal.

"So, I think that you should know each other better..." You mom said and looked with an eyebrow raised and you nervously started playing with your hair. "I've heard that Rafe is pretty good in french and, hon' you always wanted to learn another language..."

"Actually, I prefer german..."

"It doesn't matter, it's something to talk about." Your mom continued and you just wanted to throw her on the sea. "And if you excuse me, I have to get something to drink."

And she just walked away. 

What an amazing mom, hm ?

"Well, [y/n], looks like your mom don't like your little Pogue boy..." Topper said and you rolled your eyes at the same second.

"I totally understand her." Rafe started and you looked at him, with a disgusted expression. "I wouldn't want such a hot a girl like you dating some Pogue." As he finished, you rolled your eyes again, but that time it was so hard that you thought that would never see again and Topper thought that you could see your brain.

"Rafe, honey..." You started and walked a little closer to him. "Why don't you just stay quiet and don't say one word about my boyfriend?" You said and pointed one finger to his chest, don't causing a scene.

"Or what ?"

"I'm gonna have to punch your good eye." You winked, turned around and walked away from them, going to where Kie and Pope were.

You and Pope just did your handshake, when you saw Sarah Cameron dancing and looking at you.

You and Sarah were good friends since always, but you got a little distant about everything that happened with her and Kie. You talked a few times that you would see each other at the club, but that was it.

And when she invited you to dance with her you just thought 'why not ?'. Maybe that was the worse question to do at the moment, 'cause you were able to think about a million reasons, but you just letted Kie and Pope talking and went to the dance floor with Sarah Cameron.

You first talked a little bit, but after that, you just danced together it was just so fun, Sarah was a fun girl.

You two were dancing and laughing, until a pair of known arms came around your waist and held you against his body, and you just didn't punched the boy because of the smell that you love so much.

You turned around so fast that your vision became black for a little second, but at the same moment that you saw that blue eyes that matched with your dress, that blond hair that is so soft to kiss and that perfect smile, all you could do was to hug JJ as strong as you could.

"I missed you too, love." JJ whispered at your ear and you could feel home and safe again.

He spinned you and started dancing with you, while Sarah just looked at the two of you totally confused.

After he gave Sarah a little note and called her by another name that you really didn't cached, JJ danced with you a little more, but he had to go.

“You’re looking perfect on this dress, you know I love when you wear blue.” JJ said and looked deeply at your eyes, smiling like a fool in love.

But that’s exactly what you do to him.

"Take care of yourself, we'll meet later, okay?" You asked and kissed JJ, that just smiled at you again and nodded at your question.

He walked away and you knew that nothing good was coming when you saw Rafe and his little gang going to the same direction as JJ, and nothing in Outer Banks is coincidence. And the moment that you saw all of them starting running around, you felt that you had to do something.

So you went to the same hall as all of them and started to look for your boyfriend at every single place that your eyes would land, and the moment that you saw a security guard walking to the men lockers, you knew what was going to happen.

You were so desperate that you got there before the guard and saw Rafe almost punching JJ that was being held by Kelce, but you didn't cared to notice the way that he was holding JJ.

"Let him go!" You screamed and all the heads snapped at your direction, JJ's eyes became wide with fear that they would hurt you.

The moment that Rafe was going at you - while you were still because to show to him that you weren't scared of him even if you were -, the security got there and Kelce let go of him the fastest as he could.

The men grabbed JJ and started to take him out of there like it all was his fault, and you wouldn't just sit there and watch some douchebag do this to him.

"Hey, let him go. It's not his fault, if you took one minute more to get here, I would be worse then he already is. He was just protecting me, let him go!" You said and pulled JJ by his arm away from the guard, getting in front of him as a protective way from the security.

He knew that you were right, so he just turned around to go away, but before he could, Rafe already had his little dirty plan.

"You know [y/n], you're too hot for some pogue." As he said it, JJ wasn't able to hold it anymore and went to punch Rafe, but the security held him before he could get to the stupid Kooks.

Yeah, it just got worse.

The men was dragging JJ out of there like he was going to fight with someone the moment JJ breathed out of his gaze, and he was being stupid.

You went after him, screaming for him to stop and let him go, but while it caught everyone's attention, the idiot wouldn't let go of your boyfriend.

The hole scene was a chaos, with you crying and Kie screaming with you to try to stop the security to hurt JJ, but looked like anyone cared or listened to you two, except for your father.

"Let the boy walk himself out!" Your dad screamed and everyone looked at him with shocked expressions, of course they were thinking about why he was defending that pogue boy.

"Are you sure, Mr. [y/l/n]?" The guard asked with apprehension and that just made your father more pissed.

"I am not going to say twice." Your dad finished with a strong and low voice, but everyone seemed to hear, because no one said anything.

JJ pushed him, what made the man fall on the ground and looked at you while walking away, you knew what he wanted for you to do when he smiled at you. You just smiled back, then John B appeared and the scene became stronger with Pope going with them and Kie behind him.

"What are you waiting for, sunshine?" JJ screamed and everyone looked at you, but you couldn't care less about them, all you wanted was to be with him again.

Your mom held your arm and said something about that you shouldn't go, but you just took your arm off of her hand and looked to your dad, that winked at you.

You just looked at them again and went running to JJ's arms. He hugged your waist while you passed your arms around his neck, and he spinned you at the air and you laughed at him. But you couldn't forget about what your dad did for him, so you looked back at him, while holding hands with JJ.

"Thank you, dad." You said loudly, so he could hear you and you didn't waited for him or anyone else to answer, just turned around and went with your friends to somewhere else.

You five sat around a little fire and talked about the map and Sarah Cameron knowing about everything that you were doing.

You didn't got any pissed about it, but you got hurt when you heard JB saying that he was just using her. You saw the way her eyes shined and the big smile grown on her face as she got the paper - that now you knew that was from John.

You couldn't help but hope that he was breaking the rule about never lying to a pogue, or he would hurt her feelings badly.

As your talked ended, you took JJ away from them so you could talk to him about what just happened at the event.

"Babe, I need to talk to you." You said, as he grabbed your hands and looked deeply in your eyes, trying to understand what you wanted to get out of your chest without even saying anything. "I'm sorry..."

"For what?" JJ didn't even gave you time to explain, while you looked at your feet, trying to avoid his ocean eyes.

"I'm sorry about what that men did. It wasn't fair at all and I just- I tried to help but I couldn't." A single tear went down your cheek and, even if JJ couldn't see it failing he cupped your cheek with his hand and cleaned the tear. "I am so sorry that he treated you like that, it wasn't your fault and he acted like you were..."

JJ brought your head up, so he could look at you and when he did it, he could feel his heart becoming softer in every second.

"I had never saw the difference between our worlds, and now I just want to disappear, taking you with me to somewhere that anyone could treat you like that, ever." You said and you tried to hold a sob, but it didn't worked and JJ hugged you so close that you could even fell like you two were just one. "I want to people to treat you the way that you deserve."

Your little whisper at his ear, with a little sniff at the end, was it for JJ. He couldn't believe that you were feeling this guilt over something that didn't mattered at all for him, because he was used to it, and maybe that was the problem.

You wanted something that would never, ever happen. 

You wanted people to look at the two of you and don't see any difference at all.

And that was the unique thing in the world that he wasn't able to change for you - he even said once that if you wanted to the weather to change, he would try literally anything and wouldn't stop until it is exactly the way that you wanted it to be.

"You know, love, that I would change and do anything for you, but why would make this so hard?" He whispered back at your hair and you just let out a giggle. "Why the impossible?"

"Because I fell like everything is possible when I'm with you."

[artificialqueens]

Maybe You're My Enemy (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

a/n: hey, hi, hello! welcome to the first canon compliant thing i have written since 2017, i am *~ petrified! ~* . i had to write something to fix these two though after the events of episode 8 because i just love them dearly (and the fact in the subsequent episode Lawrence just dropped in the fact they’d shared a bed didn’t help this at all). thank you so much to @purecamp for reading it over and reassuring me it’s not a heap of shit (so if it turns out that it is then just blame her xo). also the song it’s set to is enemy by Charli XCX in case u want to get the immersive vibes!

fic summary: On one side of Scotland, Lawrence disappears from social media. On the other, Ellie reflects.

***

They say, “Keep your friends close”

But you’re closer, I love when you’re here

I’m so far away sometimes, I’m distant, yeah

The sky is grey. The clouds are grey. The stagnant water of the quay is grey, and so’s the metal rail that Ellie’s holding on to as he narrows his eyes, tries to stop the wind from hitting them and making him tear up.

As if the wind would be the only reason.

He brings his gaze into focus on the HMS Unicorn, sat in the water in front of him like some massive whale that’s been planted in a bathtub. It’s a fucking ugly ship; a glorified tugboat on steroids with a big bowsprit sticking out at the front all out of place, but he likes the little bust of the once-white unicorn that sticks out from under it. Ellie remembers getting brought here for a school trip in Primary 3, pointing to the unicorn all excited and getting laughed at by the boys in his class that he knew were going to grow up to be the ones that gave the teachers lip and got suspended in high school.

He remembers that Bryce made up the fact that one of the boys had “said the f word” in the gift shop later that day, just so Ellie could have the satisfaction of watching them get screamed at by their teacher. Ellie still fucking loves him for that.

Ellie thinks the unicorn is out of place in all this grey. He remembers the time he did his unicorn mix when he opened for Willam, how nervous he’d been and messaging Lawrence about it and getting a “this you coming out to me as a furry?” in return which made him laugh and forget why he’d even been nervous in the first place. He can’t help the smile the memory brings to his face even if he wants to.

And he wants to.

Lawrence always could make him smile, get a laugh from him even when he didn’t feel like it. He remembers with a blow to his heart what Lawrence had said on the show- “you’re not terribly funny? Like you don’t have…zinger-y punchlines?” - and how Tia had laughed and Ellie had wanted so much to bite back but didn’t.

Because he always could draw a laugh out of Lawrence. Granted he was usually laughing at him rather than with him, but Ellie could still put a smile on his face by acting dumb, saying things that Lawrence would subsequently repeat in a screech of disbelief that would always make Ellie laugh harder anyway. He’d always self-impose ridiculous dares on himself in front of him: in Hive, “here, what if I did the entire shot rainbow?”, in Nandos, “d’you think I could do the wing roulette by myself?”, in Glasgow on the Subway on the way to a gig, “dare me to get off at Ibrox and I’ll go to the Louden Tavern dressed like this?”. Ellie had been used to being the class clown for Lawrence, the jester for the queen.

Or maybe just a fool.

Ellie’s always hated the colour grey.

You might help me, intimacy

I’ll admit, I’m scared

Maybe, maybe you can reach me, yeah

His surroundings turn to silver as he shoves his hands in his pockets, heads towards the V&A museum that’s still glinting despite the lack of sunlight. He’s stopped by two teenage girls that are polite and shy and squeaky-voiced as they ask for a photo- he supposes that’s what he gets when he goes out wearing the pink and purple fur coat with the hearts on it. Ellie forces a smile and thanks them for supporting him and they tell him he’s their favourite in return.

After they walk away he thinks they must have been lying, but then he feels the frown etch itself onto his face as he shakes his head. The self-doubt is a hangover from filming that he needs to shake off.

He squints at the museum as he walks past, fleetingly thinks about going in and looking at some of the old fashion to cheer him up. A’whora’s promised to go with him when he’s eventually allowed to come up to visit, and Ellie snorts at the idea of the fashion queen of the London scene in Dundee. The thought of A’whora’s reaction to the Wellgate shopping centre- the Credit Union, the B&M, the Jobcentre Plus- puts the first smile on his face he’s had in days.

Lawrence had gone round the museum with him too, when Ellie had dropped him off at the train station the day after a gig and they’d been killing time. It had been weird to just dick about like that together the first few times. Weird the fact there was no makeup, glue and wigs, no alcohol or gay anthems to yell over. Just two boys walking around a museum together. Like a date.

Ellie makes a face before he even realises. Not this.

The first time they did all of it together was weird. Just like everything Lawrence had written. Nandos, cinema, staying at his. That last one especially. Ellie can still remember the way he’d stared up at the bumpy ceiling from his position on Lawrence’s couch in the pitch dark, street lamps from outside casting shadows through the blinds. The room was too cold and the blanket was too small and he hadn’t slept a wink but he’d still do it all over again.

The first time they’d both lain on Lawrence’s bed the morning after the night before, cracking up at Scottish You Laugh You Lose compilations on Youtube and Ellie being unable to help the tears that streamed down his face at Lawrence imitating “big shoe, big shoeeee!”. The way they’d been close and the way their arms had touched and the way Ellie had felt ridiculous for the way his heart was hammering. Just a friend.

The first time they’d found each other under the dark lights of CCs when they’d both been through in Edinburgh to support Alice by chance. The way Ellie’s heart had lit up like a firework when he saw him. The way they’d laced their fingers together without even having to ask permission first, the way everything just seemed to be as simple as tequila rose shots and pink lights and leaning against the wall as they smoked outside.

The way everything else had just happened so easily.

Ellie squeezes his eyes shut before he can realise what he’s doing. The memories have forced their way in, kicked down a door in his head that he’d been sure he’d bolted shut.

He needs to change the locks.

Maybe you’re my enemy

Now I’ve finally let you come a little close to me,

Maybe you’re my enemy

You’re the only one who knows the way I’m really feelin’

Ellie is in the same Stitch onesie he’s been shrugging on since the last episode aired. It stinks. He’s joked to A'whora that he can probably smell him through the phone, and A'whora’s asked if he just sweats out Mango Loco Monster. Ellie makes some joke about wringing out his clothes into a pint glass if he did, which makes A'whora retch on camera.

He’s glad they made up at least. They didn’t have too much of a choice, to be fair. Apart from the way they get on so well, their bond and their friendship, A'whora’s the only other one who knows what it’s like to be in Ellie’s situation.

Except A'whora never stabbed Tayce in the back.

“You should talk to him,” A'whora insists, bringing the whole sorry situation up in a pause where Ellie must have looked as if he was about to make a vodka bleach mixer.

Ellie looks pointedly back at him through the screen. “I’ve been telling you to talk to Tayce for months.”

He watches A'whora pull an awkward face and he’s satisfied he’s hit a nerve. “That’s different though. You and Lawrence don’t live together.”

“Yeah. Least I wasn’t stupid enough to move in with someone I fancied, how’s that going for you?”

A'whora splutters a laugh that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Ellie feels guilty all over again. He feels like that’s his default these days. “Sorry, chick, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I mean. It’s fine. Just have to act as if I’m not in love with the bitch every time I’m around her, it’s not hard,” A'whora deadpans.

Ellie frowns. “You know Tayce feels the same. Everyone knows it.”

“No I don’t,” A'whora says instantly back to him, shaking his head and dissolving momentarily into pixels. “Besides, even if she did, like…it’s easier if she didn’t, y'know? All this…publicity, every move getting analysed. It’s easier to just…not.”

Ellie narrows his eyes. “You’re doing a smashing job making the case for me and Lawrence.”

“You know what I mean! You don’t get people asking where Lawrence is in every live you do. You don’t get people going through the show fucking…frame by frame and then editing every time you breathe around each other together and setting it to a bloody Little Mix song.”

Ellie bursts out laughing and starts singing Black Magic down the phone to him, which makes A'whora look pointedly at him before clearly being unable to hold it for long and instead laughing with him.

Both their laughter dies down and Ellie watches as A'whora smiles sadly, sincerely. “He’s worth the risk, Els.”

“Oh my God, prison. Who the fuck are you, Nicholas Sparks?”

The reference flies over A'whora's head and Ellie starts explaining the plot of the A Walk to Remember, steering the conversation out of the waters it had become marooned in, the captain of his very own HMS Unicorn.

He feels more like he’s aboard the Titanic with every message that goes unread.

Now it’s really clear to me

You could do a little damage, you could cut me deeper

“It didn’t get you a badge though, was it worth it?”

Ellie’s asked himself that every day since the episode aired. Since he made the decision, pretty much. Financially? Yes it was. It’s pretty well-known at this point in the grand scheme of Drag Race that with each week you’re on the likelihood of securing more bookings is increased, and now with his slot at Drag Fest he feels as if he’s hit the jackpot.

Everything else? Not so much.

Ellie still feels his stomach drop if he thinks enough about that untucked, which he does all the time. Too much, in fact. The aggression in Lawrence’s voice which Ellie knew all too well was a manifestation of hurt on so many levels. The way Lawrence chose the conflict that Ellie wished he could have avoided. The way Lawrence left his feelings bare while Ellie couldn’t trust himself to do the same in case he said something he might regret.

The fact Lawrence had thought Ellie had set him up to fail was maybe what hurt the most, though. Ellie had wanted to ask him how he thought he’d be able to do that after everything they’d been through together. He’d tried to tell him he didn’t think it was possible for him to fail at something he shines at. He’d wanted to grab Lawrence’s pink fucking headpiece and bash him over the head with it until he realised that he’s Lawrence fucking Chaney, he is the Scottish drag queen. Lawrence is the one who will say something at a gig one week and it’ll be common drag parlance across the country by the next. Lawrence is the one getting booked by the BBC Social to make educational videos. Lawrence is the one on posters across Glasgow, for fuck’s sake.

Ellie might not have been thinking about the worst case scenario in that moment, but only because he genuinely didn’t think there could be one.

After all, he’d had his opportunity to sabotage Lawrence. Ellie remembers the first day when the producers had wanted to set up the Scottish queen rivalry, asked for something shady they could use as a soundbite. The way he’d sought out Lawrence on a smoke break and told him about the situation and reassured him that he hadn’t given them anything, and the way Lawrence had just smiled back at him, softly and genuinely, and told Ellie he’d done the same. The way they’d minutely linked pinkies together before breaking them and walking back inside as if they’d barely shared so much as a glance, neither of them wanting to draw any suspicion their way.

And he could’ve been harsher in that untucked if he’d wanted. Could’ve said how for someone that was meant to care so much about friendship and sisterhood, Lawrence had been doing a great job shitting on him from a great height about his lack of challenge wins and his run on the show.  

But he didn’t, because…well. He knows why.

Because the knowledge that he’d hurt Lawrence and lost his trust had done more damage than any joke Lawrence made at his expense could ever do.

Ellie goes live on the Tuesday afternoon. A comment on the chat reads, “are u A’whora and Lawrence still friends???”

“Yeah, me and A’whora are still friends!” Ellie bats the comment away with a fake smile.

He’ll blame his lack of comprehension skills if he’s asked about it.

I feel guilty, I feel nervous, I feel certain now

Maybe, maybe you can reach me

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it.

Maybe it’s when he wakes up on Friday and Lawrence’s Twitter isn’t loading. Maybe it’s when he reads the other Scottish girls condemning the fans, the word fatphobia leaping out, grabbing Ellie’s heart and wrenching it tight.

Surely not this?

Ellie searches Twitter and what he finds makes him feel ill. He doesn’t know what he had expected- he’d known the frantic tweet urging the fans to be kind that he’d typed out before he went to sleep hadn’t exactly been going to create world peace overnight- but he hadn’t expected any of this. Everyone loves Lawrence, surely.

Although perhaps he’s just talking from experience.

Maybe it’s when he shoots Lawrence a message that goes unopened. In all honesty Ellie doesn’t blame him. A flimsy sentiment about hoping he’s okay that clocks in at under 250 characters isn’t going to cut it, and he’s grateful when Bimini, with all their empathy and ability to read a situation as clear as day, texts him and tells him that Lawrence has replied to them and he’s…well, he’s managing.

Maybe it’s when Ellie goes live with A’whora and he manages to mention Lawrence entirely too many times. A cry for attention or an old habit that’s dying hard? He can’t tell. Perhaps it’s both.

It’s definitely got something to do with the Facebook post.

Whatever it is, Ellie finds himself stuffing any old random items of clothing in a backpack and hoping it makes an outfit, shoving the spare key into the soil of the plant pot outside his front door and texting Anne to tell her where it is in case…fuck knows, the flat goes on fire while he’s away or something. He looks up the train times as he’s on his way to the station; a terrible decision, really, as when he’s still fifteen minutes away he discovers there’s one in ten. Somehow he manages to make it to the station with just a minute to spare and his heart lifts to find that the ticket barriers are open, so he dashes through them and hurtles onto the train that’s waiting at the platform. He catches his breath as he slumps into a table seat, having to take his mask off for a couple of seconds just so he can breathe properly. The way his heart is going at the rate the train’s about to isn’t helping.

The chimes of the train announcement cut through his attempts at slowing his heart down, and the little robotic woman’s voice confirms that his ridiculous, spur-of-the-moment decision is actually happening.

“This is Dundee. This train is for Glasgow Queen Street.”

Because this is all so last minute, but he needs to see Lawrence. He’s apologised probably ten times by now but he knows he needs to make it eleven. He knows (he hopes) that Lawrence needs that eleventh time too. He knows that Lawrence needs Ellie’s persistence, knows that it’s all just an attempt at self-preservation. Lawrence’s attempts at shutting Ellie out are just inviting him to bring a battering ram. At least, he hopes. But like A’whora had said…he’s worth the risk.

The train starts moving, and even if he wanted to back out now he couldn’t.

So cold at the surface, I’m scared of nothin’

Underneath, I’m nervous

Can you reach me?  

Ellie waits for the subway at Buchanan Street and his glazed-over eyes focus on a massive poster of Lawrence on the platform opposite. He briefly considers throwing himself under the next train.

The journey down had passed somehow in the blink of an eye and also agonisingly slowly. Too much time to sit and stare out of the window but not enough time to figure out what he’s going to say. He still doesn’t know. He’d said it all those months ago, he’s said it through texts and DMs. This time feels different, though. This time is different. This time there’s no cameras or runners or pink tables, or distance between them or tension at the fact nothing had aired yet.

It’s going to be the pair of them and Lawrence’s flat. Just like it’s been so many times before.

Ellie thinks he’ll probably just open his mouth, say whatever gets there first and hope it hits the right notes; a terrible decision arrived upon as a result of the lack of any other option. His mind is a messed up ball of television static, a knotted yarn of white noise that he can’t find the end of. He feels as if it’s made of the noise the train makes as it screams into the station, metal on metal and the low whoosh of the wind through the tunnel and the rickety shaking of the doors as they slide open and people stream off.

He picks up his bag and sinks down into the horrifically patterned upholstery of the seats, settling himself in for the journey. The little metal tin can of a train doesn’t take long to fire through the seven stops before Govan and with each one that passes Ellie can feel his nerves spiking and his mouth growing dry.

What if Lawrence isn’t even in? What if it’s all got too much and he’s gone back to Helensburgh for the foreseeable? Ellie could get a train up there, he supposes; he’s already on this side of the country, although he doesn’t know if Lawrence would appreciate the gesture or call the police on him.

Ellie concludes it would be worth it anyway.

He emerges from the Subway and the grey seems to hit him all over again, seeping into his clothes and forcing him to fight through the sadness that hits him like a wave. There’s a little beam of sunshine fighting to escape the clouds though, and Ellie hopes it’s some form of pathetic fallacy. Or whatever that one about the weather matching your feelings was. Fucked if he ever paid attention in Nat 5 English.

The streets of red brick tenements feel like pens of hostility as he passes windows that serve as frames for Union Jacks and Red Hand of Ulster flags. Even being raised in a Christian household doesn’t equip him to identify with this form of religion; where the disciples are football players and the gods are flags and the hymns are about killing Catholics. Ellie has always worried about Lawrence living here, told him as much, but he’s always been met with a bark of a laugh back and some comment about how he’s only saying that because he’s lived such a sheltered little life in Dundee and wouldn’t last five minutes trying to inhabit Glasgow and all its cheerful sectarianism. Lawrence has always had a very blythe attitude to the whole thing, and Ellie remembers when he’d held his hand on the way back from the Subway in full drag after a gig like it was nothing, the way some dick in an orange and blue scarf had shouted at them from across the street and Lawrence had just yelled back with an “awrite, babes?” as if he had a death wish.

Which is what makes this whole thing so grim. The Lawrence who drunkenly and sarcastically greets bigots at three in the morning from across the street doesn’t marry up with the Lawrence that’s holed up in his flat in the face of negativity. Ellie supposes that one homophobic Rangers fan is one homophobic Rangers fan, but Twitter can seem like the whole world’s population, and if Lawrence thinks the world hates him just because he’s reacted to something that was Ellie’s fault…

He feels his gut wrench.

Ellie turns into Lawrence’s street and feels ill. He could always go home. Turn and walk back to the Subway, train back to Queen Street, back to Dundee, back to the flat. Like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t even consciously made the decision, like it was all a dream.

He sleepwalks to Lawrence’s close door anyway, just like he knew he would.

His hand shakes as he presses the buzzer too hard, and the panic rises in his throat as the seconds pass agonisingly slowly. When there’s a crackle from the intercom, he freezes in fear.

“Hello?”

It’s Kiko’s voice. Of course his flatmate had to be the one to answer, drag out the humiliation of the whole thing. Ellie can hear the shake to his voice as he replies.

“Hey, it’s Ellie.”

“…Ellie?”

He chooses to ignore the disbelief, acts as if it’s normal for him to have travelled across the country to turn up on Lawrence’s doorstep in the middle of a pandemic when there’s a travel ban in place. He’s considering this essential travel anyway.

“Is Lawrence in at all?”

Kiko, for her part, seems to pick up on the way the whole visit is masquerading as routine. In the split second before she replies, Ellie finds himself holding his breath. He steels himself, prepares for a “no, he’s actually…”, to send him back to Dundee like a crumpled sheet of paper tossed into a bin.

So Ellie feels like his throat’s going to close up when Kiko replies down the intercom. “Yeah, two secs. I’ll buzz you up.”

The dread settles in his gut like a weight as the buzzer rings out into the street, harsh and loud and doing nothing for Ellie’s derailed train of thought. He pushes on the door, takes his first step into the close and the echo seems to hit him deep in his chest. He finds himself wishing Lawrence lives four up but he’s only on the first floor, and as Ellie puts his foot on the first step of the staircase he keeps his eyes trained on the stairs because he knows the moment he looks up he’s going to see somebody standing there holding the door open and even though he’s had hours to prepare himself, weeks even, he’s not ready for that in the slightest.

And when he finally brings his gaze onto the front door with four steps to go, he’s not ready for the way the sight of Lawrence almost knocks him straight back down again. He’s slumped against the doorframe and has very clearly not slept- since when, Ellie couldn’t guess. A black hoodie is swamping him and a pair of navy sweatpants are doing the same, making him seem smaller than he already is. The sight of his hair up in that tiny bun hurts Ellie’s heart because it makes him want to smile, reminds him of the Lawrence he’d dick about in the workroom and the smoking area and the hotel corridors with before it all went so wrong. His arms are folded and he’s looking at the tiles on the landing floor until Ellie reaches the doorway, shifts awkwardly.

“Hi.”

Lawrence doesn’t quite meet his eyes. It’s a minute detail that hurts Ellie more than he would have expected. He doesn’t reply for a second, then seems to relent. “Hey.”

Another pause. The atmosphere makes Ellie wish he’d worn a thicker jacket.

“You’re not meant to be here, you know. Wee Nicky’s probably had snipers trained on you since you got off the train,” Lawrence says, delivering the quip with a bitter, barbed edge that makes Ellie think it’s less of a joke and more wishful thinking.

“Wouldn’t be any less than I deserve, I’m sure,” Ellie smiles sadly, unable to make it meet his eyes. Lawrence’s expression remains unimpressed.

“So why are you here, then,” he not so much as demands an answer but disinterestedly inquires. Ellie bites his bottom lip before he replies, as if he’s forcing himself to make sure his words are perfect.

“I just came down because…well, I wanted to see how you were. I know the past week must have been shit for you.”

Lawrence raises his eyebrows, his eyes growing wide as if to really drive home to Ellie how much of an understatement he already knows he’s made. “Yeah.”

Ellie sighs, wanting desperately to get the next part right. “And I felt like I needed to say I’m sorry. Y’know, in front of you.”

“You said sorry back when we filmed. We’re over it, it’s fine,” Lawrence says flatly, conveying that everything is not fine.

“It’s not fine, though. I wouldn’t have come down if it was fine. Things haven’t been fine since that day, and like…I miss you, Lawrence, I don’t want to lose you as a friend, or as a sister, or as…” Ellie stumbles, looking to the floor as he tries to articulate the other facet of their relationship. “…whatever else we are. Whatever else we were. I’m sorry for fucking everything up.”

There’s a silence in which the pair of them freeze and hold their breath. Time could very well be standing still for all Ellie knows. He immediately regrets bringing up all of…that. He should’ve kept it to friendship, shouldn’t have added anything on. Before he can overthink any more or begin to backtrack, a small sigh from Lawrence makes him look up.

“I thought you hated me,” he says. His voice is small and the words are unexpected. There’s so much Ellie could say in response. He settles on a joke.

“No, I think you’re a cunt. There’s a difference,” Ellie smiles tightly, the joke tentative. The snort it gets from Lawrence makes his smile grow without him being able to help it. “Was that a good one? Thought I was the unfunniest person on the planet?”

“We weren’t talking about your Bake Off improv,” Lawrence raises his eyebrows as he smirks, and Ellie fakes a wounded laugh.

“Shady cow.”

“I’m sorry,” Lawrence says out of nowhere, his smile gone all of a sudden.

Ellie tries to drag the joke out a little longer, hold onto the sparks they’ve just created. “Nah, it was shit, you’re right.”

“No, Ellie…” Lawrence shakes his head, worrying his lip between his teeth a little. “I am sorry.”

Ellie feels the panic wash over him when he clocks the glisten in his eyes. “It’s fine, girl.”

“It’s not fine. I was a dick to you so many times, no fuckin’ wonder I thought you’d set me up. I would too if I had somebody talking down to me like I did to you,” Lawrence says gravely. His gaze is fixed on his floor and just as Ellie is about to speak he catches sight of two tears that fall onto the red carpet, the darkness akin to blood. His horror grows as Lawrence finally snaps his head up, tears shining in his eyes as he sighs helplessly in a shaky voice. “You’re amazing, Ellie, you’re such a talent, and…fuck, I missed you.”

His words mean more to him that Ellie had expected them to. He doesn’t want to let that show, though, because that’s too much, that means too much for the situation just now and he can deal with that realisation at a later date. For now, Ellie points at him in mock-accusation. “Hey listen, I’m the one that got the train down to come and make a big speech to you and say sorry. Buy your own damn train ticket for that.”

Lawrence’s voice is thick with tears as he lets out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

“Wee bitch. Always have to make everything about you,” Ellie rolls his eyes, getting another teary laugh out of Lawrence and raising his hopes that maybe they’ll be okay.

And then the banks break and Lawrence makes a little choked-up noise, a sob that’s not fully a sob. His eyes meet Ellie’s and they’re full of so much sadness and regret that just looking at them creates a crack in Ellie’s heart, one that matches the crack in Lawrence’s voice as he speaks again.

“This has all been shit to do without you.”

Ellie doesn’t think before opening his arms out, shaking his head affectionately. “Don’t be silly. C’mere.”

When Lawrence immediately opens out his own and they meet each other in the middle and hug tightly, Ellie feels like a balloon that’s been let go and is floating up to the sky.

The clouds aren’t grey.

The way they’re holding each other brings back too many memories. Seeing each other at gigs and feeling butterflies take hold of his stomach. Coming off stage after a number and conveying his pride in him without even having to say a word. Saying goodbye at train stations with disappointment lodging itself in his heart. All the nostalgia makes Ellie want to cry, but he can’t start now. Instead, he breaths a shaky sigh, shakes his head before he speaks.

“You’ve always had me, okay? You’ve always got me. We’ve said sorry now, that’s the end of it. Periodt,” Ellie murmurs against his shoulder, adding on his trademark at the end. The laugh he gets muffled against his chest in return makes him feel lighter.

“I’ve not showered. I definitely stink. You don’t have to keep hugging me, you know.”

“You don’t. I want to,” Ellie says back. He means it.

It’s Lawrence that slides out of the hug first but he’s still standing close as he quickly wipes away his tears, looks Ellie up and down with a smirk on his face. “So where’s your Travelodge, hen?”

Ellie’s sheepish when he makes eye contact with him again, shrugs one strap of the rucksack off before replying. “You know damn well I’ve not booked anywhere.”

“Fuckin’ hell. Right, come on,” Lawrence shakes his head affectionately, stepping back into his hallway and letting Ellie finally cross the threshold to drop his bag like an anchor in the flat. It’s the physical manifestation of the burden finally being lifted off of him, the guilt and the regret melting away in favour of the flutter of his heart and a few small sparks that he wants to put in resin. “I get to choose the film later as reparations. Don’t trust you since you made us watch Cat In The Hat.”

Ellie gives a shocked gasp, genuinely offended. “It’s good!”

“Is it fuck. In fact, just for that I’m going to make you sit through something sci-fi and geeky and you’re gonna hate it,” Lawrence smiles with genuine glee, and Ellie can’t even bring himself to be mad about it. As the pair of them walk through to the living room, Lawrence jumps onto the sofa and fixes Ellie with a look that is clearly meant to be serious but that simultaneously Lawrence can’t commit to and Ellie can’t believe. “You’re sleeping here tonight, by the way.”

Ellie raises his eyebrows as he fakes his agreement, going along with the charade Lawrence is beginning. They both know they’ll end up curled up together on the sofa with neither of them having an explanation for how it’s happened, but at the same time knowing they don’t have to explain themselves. They know that Ellie will end up falling asleep slumped against Lawrence and that he’ll have to gently shake him awake, that he’ll wordlessly offer Ellie a hand to drag him off the couch with and that they’ll go through to Lawrence’s room like always. They know that they’ll wake up tangled together like the sheets and that Ellie will be there for him, that he’ll help Lawrence piece himself back together and they’ll go back to the start. Well, maybe not the start. Perhaps somewhere better.

Ellie keeps his friends close, but Lawrence is something a little bit more. Something a little bit closer.

Baby, you’re my enemy.

[elvencantation]

yin yang master liveblog

feat. @thursdayplaid​

what

blue

omg the magic is so pretty

also why is it always Chinese dramas will have someone, if they need blood, bite their finger?

also the gold spirit is very cute i like

i love a young countenance but an older soul

i also want them to take off their hats 😂

wait he ain’t dead he’s just sitting there?

or he’s dying i guess

Thursday

This movie is pretty throughout, aesthetic on point 

Sharp teeth?

We simp gold spirit

Too true, amazing combo XD 

He's dying

Please don't let me disturb your liveblogging. It brings be much joy

blue

oh hot demon boy!

love that he’s fighting with a fan

Thursday

Who will win? Uptight fighting bro vs gentle fan uncle

blue

gentle fan uncle is an amazing title

Thursday

@^_^@

blue

i love how he’s just like ‘bet u wouldnt stab a precious instrument’

Thursday

XD I love how playful he is during the whole fight too

blue

it’s adorable

dude rly loves his transportation talismans

WAIT I THOUGHT DEMON BOY HAD TATTOOS NOT CUTS

Thursday

He does. If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess. And it's a good way to redirect violence without doing harm

Demon boy has had a Rough Time

blue

i wanna give him a hug

i don’t think he’d appreciate that but still 😂

Thursday

He's just sad and misses his girl friend

blue

why his reincarnated shufu look evil tho

Thursday

Who can say~~~

I love how Boya was just repeatedly defeated by Qingming and is like: you won't fight me because you're scared.

blue

what’s a himbo but not nice 😂

hey! they put my boys hat on crooked. rude.

Thursday

Give that boy a straight hat.

He's just such an Angy Boy

blue

he rly is 😂

ah i love the lady master she’s so pretty

Thursday

She's amazing and I love her.

blue

awww boya defended him

Thursday

He's so angry, but this fan man flirts with him

blue

ofc they all spying on each other 😂

Thursday

Saved by your opponent's gay discovery

blue

omg yes

Thursday

Spying required

blue

aw he looks nice with his hair down!

drink tea with him angy boy!

Thursday

He just wants you to chill out before you deviate. Sit and look at his amazing long hair. It'll be good for you

blue

HAHAHA

honey bug!!!! i love her!!!!!!!

Thursday

Also the ability for the fan man's actor to go from calm to worried to angry to calm again

Honey bug is good and important and I love her

blue

thank u for the recommendation yes

i love them

Thursday

The intrinsic eroticism of a man who's having his racist beliefs totally shaken by a hot guy who's hotter and smarter than him while holding a sword to his throat and looking like he wants to cry while saying cool lines.

They are such a great pair

blue

angy boy is angy like how dare fan man make him have feelings

Thursday

How very dare he make a good point about morals and ethics!

Also with that hair drinking tea in the morning

Angy boy with clenched teeth: I'm Not Yearning. I'm Just Like This When I See A Fan.

Angy boy with clenched fists: Complex Feelings? Disgusting.

blue

HAHAH OMG HES JUST HANGING OUT WITH A BUNCH OF LADIES LIKE HELLO YES ANGY BOY COME HAVE TEA WITH US ITS NOT WHAT U THINK

OMG THIS TIME ITS BOYS

ITS LIKE UR TRYING TO GIVE ANGY BOY AN ANEURISM

Thursday

Clenched fist intensifies

blue

I CANNOT

maybe he just wants to hang out with cute people

i get that

Thursday

He's just a friendly guy

blue

if i could summon pretty spirit friends to hang with me i so would

ok so maybe he’s not evil. but i’m still suspicious

NOW ANGY BOY IS HAIR DOWN WITHOUT HAT OMG YES

Thursday

I do get the vibe off him he's not the sort of guy who would put his spirit friends in sexual situations. But also I get the vibe he's a very lonely guy at his core and he enjoys the feeling of physical and emotional closeness.

blue

mood ™

Thursday

Let's be honest, the hat is a bit cute, but that hair though. Respect for the makeup department

blue

HAHAHAH

Thursday

Angy boy, you're just walking to being teased now. At this point its a hand written invitation with gold leaf.

blue

oh i love this moment with the water

it’s so intense

JUST DO IT ANGY BOY

U KNOW U CARE ABOUT HIM

“you’re too obedient” 😂

Thursday

The priest is in the range of gentle or teasing and hovers there. Seeing an actual intense situation is great

blue

ikr????

ah that is exactly what i love

that situation

Thursday

Me too! It's great when characters hover in a range and then swing over sharply

I really makes both extremes more dynamic

blue

HAVE SOME WINE WITH HIM DO IT

U KNOW U WANNA

Thursday

Go For It Angy Boy! He'll be gentle!

blue

😏

Thursday

XD I mean he will continue to ruffle his feathers, but for fun, not for mean

Also, I really love the depiction of a fox demon that isn't sexed up.

Qingming is a trickster, a tease, a bit of a flirt, and enjoys the pleasures of life, but he isn't the stereotypical half naked sexpot fox demon that seem to pop up everywhere

blue

OH NO HE HAD TO KILL HIS SHUFU???

Thursday

The only person he had in the world but he didn't want him to suffer and be corrupted

blue

also I hate that my two associations with someone being turned into ash is firstly the avengers and secondly that stupid fucking scene in the last harry potter movie

god this movie is so beautiful and lovely

Thursday

That set is outstandingly gorgeous

Everything is so beautiful. I want to live in this world!

Sometimes I just see a kind and lonely character trying to live their best life and just vibe with them. Also the wigs on this movie 😭 So beautiful!

blue

DONT HURT MY GIRL

Thursday

Run girl! Move!

She's so smart and brave!

blue

oh the DRAMA

Thursday

The Drama is right, I love this movie!

blue

HE WILL SAVE U BOYA

Thursday

HE'S COMING FOR YOU FRIEND

blue

omg the drama of his hand slackening

Thursday

That slackening hand though...

blue

why it didn’t work until then tho???

Thursday

For the drama mostly XD

blue

HUGGGG

is she giving birth to the serpent? 🤢

Thursday

She is giving birth to the serpent

blue

hey it’s better to be possessed by the literal incarnation of evil in snake form than be dead am I right?

Thursday

I mean is we're making a choice...

blue

OMG IS IT FINALLY SPIRIT TIME?

thursday

It is ~spirit time~!

blue

HOT DEMON BOY IS BACK UPGRADED

SO PROUD

Thursday

He is back and he is Fancy!

They're looking good they're doing poses

blue

omg the painters face painting is so pretty

Thursday

I love the painter ;-; so noble

blue

the music when he summons spirits just makes me think of like pro wrestling intro music for some reason 😂

Thursday 

And now from the WWE, some hot chinese spirits

blue

oh no ice boy!

Thursday

Poor ice boy, he's just getting beat up

blue

don’t u dare touch my other demon boy

Thursday

He just signed up for this adventure and now a snake is beating him up

blue

OMG HE NOW HAS SOMEONE HE WOULD PROTECT WITH HIS LIFE DOESNT HE

Thursday

He Do!

blue

WAIT WHAT NO BOYA

Thursday

Boya is just having a rough time right now, he's a good good boy

blue

and now the painter???

Thursday

I almost cried about the painter and he was only there for like five minutes

blue

PLS DONT HURT MY DEMON BOY

Thursday

Demon Boy goes yeet

blue

oh my god the drama of the dripping blood i can’t

Thursday

This movie has so much drama It did

blue

not my demon boy 😭

FINALLY IT WORKED

wait shit spirit boya is super hot

THE BLACK WINGS?!????

the tattoos??? the hair?!?!!! the messy goth skirt??!

Thursday

Spirit Boya is Choice, I'm looking respectfully 👀

Goth spirit aesthetic is on point

blue

where the other guardians tho?

yes this is a very touching little last reunion but where my boya at

omg yes give him a glowing sword

the avenging angel look is 💯 on him

Thursday

The sword on fire look is Really Working For Him

blue

tell me boya’s spirit form has no influence on his actual body. no he said he trusted qingming to protect his body it’s ok

OMG YES I KNEW THE PROTECTION SPELL MOMENT WOULD BE BACK

Thursday

It's back and it's shiny!

blue

ok but u still have a hole in ur torso my dude

oh ok apparently that’s not a thing anymore but i can’t be mad cause boya’s outfit 😍

Thursday

I guess he used his cultivation or his demon powers or something IDK, It would have been nice to have two extra minutes of Boya being worried about him

Boya wears some excellent clothes

blue

love a good romantic flute moment 😭🥰

Thursday

I have to say Boya's like let me play you this song about promising to fall in love in the next life for fun and me time

blue

omg i thought he was gonna kiss the arrow

Thursday

I mean emotionally did he not kiss the arrow?

blue

omg i cant

Thursday

I know right? How many censors did they have to pay off

blue

WAIT IS MY GIRL OK????

Thursday

I Chose To Believe She's fine and is now living happily on a farm or something

yeah i do love being worried for each other

but i guess they didnt have enouhg time and they already had that moment at the beginning of the movie 😂

Thursday

Two people? Respecting, worrying, and caring about each other? 👍 There's never enough caring for each other!

blue 

exactly

Thursday

Also, this is one of the best examples of be careful how you word your spells that I've ever seen.

The old master was like care and protect her forever and his spirit guardian was just like: 👍👌💯

blue

heheh

yeahhh

AND U MADE ME EMOTIONAL AGAIN

[headcanonspam]

Ahh insomnia, why must you follow me so? Anyway, since I'm not sleeping, might as well go off about my TOG opinions.

So I see a lot of takes about how Joe is a writer & artist (which is as it should be, he IS & honestly if that was all this fandom talked about I'd be down), but I only see bits & pieces here & there about the others and their relationship with creating stuff. So. A few thoughts.

Andy is used to being the subject of art -- far before Rodin, she was worshipped as a god and people certainly represented her likeness & prowress. But it is only with Quynh that she learns how to work beauty with her hands: first by beginning to embellish their armor & weapons, for things they (read: Quynh) use so frequently should be as beautiful as deadly. But it turns softer as well: Quynh teaches Andy how to do Quynh's hair, how to press flowers. But where Andy truly excels, & has always excelled, is dance: she loves to dance & she is good at it. Dancing in community, with Quynh, by herself. She is both the art & the artist & it only lasts until the dance is done: nothing is permanent in dance. Nothing is forever.

Quynh's life started hard and got harder and she hardened with it. But Andy doesn't berate her for loving beautiful things. When they have the time and the money and the supplies, Quynh is drawn to gardening, to growing. I think she's also drawn to things that she can hold with her hands & use -- pottery, weaving. And I think she loves to sing, especially to Andy, especially when Andy is dancing. I think she also loves learning how to play instruments, but singing will always be what she comes back to. When she's back in the world, singing is the last to come back to her -- it reminds her too much of screaming & drowning & screaming & drowning. She still heals, physically, obviously, so her vocal cords should be the same, but privately Andy thinks her voice never quite sounds like it used to. Andy would never say that though.

Lykon I associate most with that smile of his -- it says he's up to trouble and loving it. I don't know what he created when he was alive, but in a modern AU he'd be part of the trio of stealth urban installation social justice artist collective along with Joe & Booker. (With Nile discovering them & joining in & Nicky helping but insisting he's not *really* part of the team he's just being a supportive boyfriend, & Andy & Quynh doing their own thing but definitely knowing about it and offering assists when needed.)

Nicky isn't Joe's muse so much as his co-creator, even if Nicky would demur. But the two of them are -- along with lovers & all the rest -- best friends & to be friends is to have a conversation that never stops. And so I see them talking about art & poetry & writing and in a real sense naturally falling into collaboration. He & Joe pass their projects & passions back & forth until it is hard to tell where their individual contributions begin or end. That said, they are drawn to different mediums: I think Nicky is like Quynh in that he likes to work on crafting things with a use. Pottery, carpentry, gardening, textiles, cooking, blacksmithing. He builds them a house in Malta from the ground up. He always has projects half finished -- stained glass, mosaics, some fermented food experiments that might be from last year or might be from 150 years ago.

Nile loves art, but hasn't been able to indulge in it as much as she'd like, during her mortal life. I think that it will take time for her to develop her own sense of style & talents. But I do have some guesses as to how that process goes over her first dozen decades: she gets involved with some experimental theater; she takes up various instruments & drops them & picks them up again with renewed vigor; she paints; she paints a lot, in as many styles as she can; she gets deep into fashion designing; she works with clay & is touched when Joe & Nicky buy her a wheel & kiln for her favorite safe house; she doesn't get into cooking, exactly, but gets deep into archiving recipes, which is it's own kind of creative endeavor; she self publishes romance novel ebooks for fun. Eventually, she stops worrying so much about finding that one kind of art that she is good at & starts enjoying the moments of discovery, of being bad at something & still loving it, of improving, of being great at something, of not improving but continuing anyway, of making stuff & making stuff & getting to keep doing it, of watching other people make things, of watching how art evolves & loops back & iterates & unfurls & how she gets to be a part of it, this grand conversation that is creative endeavors, at least a little.

Booker likes art that is old & the sense of history that hangs around it. Books, obviously, but paintings & sculptures & furniture & clothing as well. He has a knack for forgery, of course, and part of that is how he understands things as material objects that exist in time & that are changed by time. Like Andy drawn to dance in part for it's ephemerality, Booker is drawn to forgery & historic artifacts because of the dual reminder that time changes everything -- but there's always ways to cheat. That said, he does have a secret soundcloud account for his electronic noise albums. And he definitely has a couple of phone games of varying qualities can be downloaded on the app store.

Joe, the artist poet warrior jock of my heart, has dabbled in all of it, but it always comes down, for him to the notebook/sketchbook he keeps with him -- for him every he makes starts with jotting down his thoughts, either as a drawing or in words. Conversations with Nicky that never finish, scenes he wants to remember, flights of fancy, questions he means to look into, grocery lists, songs to check out, it's all there, in the books & papers he's collected over the years, that Nicky has made margin comments on, that have been spilled on, smudged, sliced by errant swords, but always kept, scattered over safehouse and miles and time, ready to be picked up whenever Joe runs into them next.