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pitlanepeach · 3 days ago

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The Long Way Home I Chapter Three

Oscar Piastri x Harper Grace (OFC)

Summary — When Harper, a kind girl with a guarded heart, meets rising karting star Oscar Piastri at their English boarding school, sparks fly.

It only takes one silly moment of teenaged love for their lives to change forever.

Warnings — Teenage love, growing up together, falling in love, teen pregnancy, no explicit scenes when the characters are underaged (obviously??), strong language, manipulative parents, past death of a parent, dyscalculia, hardly any angst, slice-of-life basically!

Notes — Are you ready? Because I'm not ready.

Wattpad Link | Series Masterlist

Harper regretted everything the minute they hit the incline.

"This was your idea," Oscar said, not even out of breath.

"I hate that you're actually good at this," she wheezed.

He grinned and reached for her wrist mid-stride. "We can stop."

"No." She panted. "If I stop now, I'll never start again. They'll have to airlift me out."

They were deep in the woods behind the school, the quiet part where no one really went except Oscar when he was doing his trainer-mandated endurance runs three times a week. It smelled like wet moss and pine needles and early autumn.

He slowed to a walk, just enough for her to match pace, then slung an arm lazily around her shoulders. She leaned into it, grateful and exhausted and warm in a way that had nothing to do with her temperature.

They didn't say anything for a while. Just breathed. Let the trees hush them.

Then, softly, "This is where I come when I need to think," he said.

Harper glanced up at him. "Or avoid people?"

"Same thing."

She smiled and nudged him. "You've been doing that more lately."

He shrugged. "It's been... a lot. Winning the British championship. Leading the WSK. Talking to teams. My dad's getting anxious about sponsors."

"And Mark?"

"Always calm. But I can tell he's pushing a bit harder now. It's all getting a bit more serious."

She nodded, quietly. "Yeah."

They walked until they hit a small clearing; soft grass, dappled light, the faint hum of wind through the trees.

Oscar dropped to the ground first, tugging her with him, and Harper let herself fall beside him. Their fingers tangled without thought. Her heartbeat still hadn't slowed.

"You really hate running, huh?" He teased.

She turned her head toward him. "I don't hate it."

He raised a brow.

"Okay, fine. I hate it. But I like being with you," she said, eyes soft.

Oscar looked at her for a long moment. His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. "That's a good enough reason to torture yourself?"

She nodded.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against herself and she giggled breathily against him, shifting to her knees and pressing close to him.

And when she whispered, "Can we... just stay here a while?" He nodded, no questions, no pressure, just a gentle hand on the curve of her back.

They didn't... plan it.

They didn't even really speak about it as it happened.

They moved the way they always did — with instinct and quiet understanding, with laughter in the middle and too many nerves and awkward fumbling that quickly gave way to something softer.

They were teenagers, yes. But more than that — in that pretty little clearing, they became each other's firsts. And it wasn't perfect. It was fumbled and awkward and probably a bit out of order — but it felt right.

It felt like theirs.

Afterwards, they lay tangled in the grass and the quiet, Oscar drawing invisible lines on her shoulder, Harper tucked into his side like she belonged there and nowhere else.

"I don't think anything has ever felt that perfect," she whispered.

He kissed her again. But her lip. Made her giggle as he said, "You made it perfect."

—

Harper tiptoed into their bedroom just past curfew, hair messy, hoodie zipped up to her chin, and a dazed sort of softness clinging to her features like afterglow.

Jane was already in bed, face masked, glasses on, reading some dystopian paperback with a wildly dramatic title. She didn't look up.

"I know what you did," she sung.

Harper froze halfway across the room. "What?"

Jane turned a page. "Please. You've got pine needles in your hair and your skirt is on backwards.'"

Harper flushed. "Oh my God."

Jane finally looked at her. "Was it good?"

"...Yeah," Harper whispered, and then suddenly grinned, wide and a little overwhelmed. "Yeah, it was."

Jane set her book down and patted the edge of her bed. "Come here and tell me everything, you naughty, terrible girl."

Harper crossed the room in two steps, crawled under Jane's blanket like they were twelve again, and for the first time in a long time, let herself glow.

—

Monday morning, Harper's phone buzzed with a new message. She glanced down to see the sender: Viard Admissions.

Opening it felt like swallowing a stone.

The email was clinical, polite — an official acceptance letter to the elite boarding school in Switzerland her mother had threatened. Lines about curriculum, dates, and fees, but beneath every word, Harper could feel the cold weight of control.

She stared at the screen, heart sinking.

The rest of the day was a blur. Her smiles felt forced. Her laughs, hollow.

At lunch, she barely touched her food. During math tutoring, her mind floated, distracted by the looming exile.

Oscar noticed.

He cornered her between classes, hands stuffed in his pockets, brows furrowed.

"Hey," he said gently, "you've been off all day. What's wrong?"

Harper shook her head, trying to hide the tightness in her throat.

Oscar stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You can tell me."

She hesitated, then finally exhaled. "My mum." she admitted, voice cracking. "She emailed my mu acceptance letter. To that school in Switzerland she was threatening me with the other week."

Oscar's jaw tightened. "That's shit," he said.

"Yeah," Harper whispered. "I feel like I've found somewhere I belong, and now she's trying to take it away."

Oscar reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You do belong," he said firmly. "Here. With me. And with our friends. People who care about you."

Harper blinked back tears, the knot inside her loosening just a little. "Thanks, Osc," she said softly.

He smiled, squeezing her hand. "We'll figure it out, yeah? Together."

—

Saturday evening, their bedroom was buzzing with whispered giggles and the fresh scent of cucumber.

Harper and Jane lounged on the floor, wrapped in fluffy blankets, their faces slick with a honey-avocado facemask as they binge-watched Mean Girls for the third time that week on Jane's laptop.

"Oi, we're coming in!" Matt's voice boomed from outside their door.

The door swung open to reveal Matt, Sam, and Alfie — each armed with their own packets of face masks and towels, looking both sheepish and excited.

"Um, what the hell are you guys doing here?" Jane asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

"We're your new beauty consultants," Sam grinned, holding up a jar of what looked like expensive aloe mask (which he'd definitely stolen from whichever girl he was currently dating).

Alfie was already spreading a pink goo over his cheeks, looking hilariously out of place in the girls' soft dorm lighting.

Harper laughed despite herself.

"Fine. Whatever. But only if you promise not to mess up the blankets," Jane bargained.

Matt plopped down on the floor, slapping a bit of mask on his nose and grinning. "Deal."

The night unfolded with half-serious skincare advice, sarcastic commentary on Mean Girls, and a lot of laughter.

At one point, Alfie tried to reenact the "You can't sit with us" line — but with a face mask so thick it practically obscured his words.

Harper messages Oscar a sneaky picture she'd taken of them.

Oscar: I asked them to keep an eye on you. Sry if they were annoying lol. Wish I was there x

Harper stared at the message and pulled her knees up to her chest with a hitched smile.

Harper: Thank you. Love you

She held her breath as he typed.

Oscar: Love you too.

And it was that easy.

—

Jane's birthday was always celebrated in style.

The music thrummed through the room, warm and electric. Harper spotted Oscar across the room, his eyes locking onto hers with something intense — a mix of nerves and something more.

He moved toward her, hand reaching out gently to take hers. She didn't hesitate.

They stepped onto the dance floor, bodies close but careful, hearts pounding louder than the beat.

Oscar's hand found her waist, steady and reassuring. Harper's fingers curled lightly around his neck, breath catching in her throat.

They swayed together, the world narrowing to just the two of them — the noise, the lights, the rest all fading away.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and Harper's pulse quickened. When their lips met, it was soft at first — tentative, like testing the water.

But the kiss deepened, filled with all the restless energy and longing they'd been holding back.

They pulled apart slowly, foreheads resting together, breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

"Happy birthday, Jane," Harper whispered, smiling shyly.

Oscar grinned, his fingers brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Best party ever."

—

The door clicked softly behind them as Oscar guided Harper inside his bedroom, a quiet grin tugging at his lips.

She pointedly ignored the insane amount of mess.

"If you get caught here, we're both fucked," he whispered, pulling her close.

"I won't get caught," Harper replied, snuggling into his side as they settled onto the rumpled bed.

Oscar wrapped an arm around her and tugged her flush against him.

Then Harper shifted, her voice soft but animated. "I started this new coding camp online. It's... complicated, but kind of awesome."

Oscar tilted his head, interested. "Yeah? What's it teaching you?"

"How to build games. It's a bit elementary, but I'm learning how to work with CSS more efficiently."

Oscar smiled, fingers tracing slow circles on her arm. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. "That's pretty cool."

Harper hummed. "I know. I'll show you the video game when it's done. Won't be anything special, but it'll still be cool."

Oscar pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "I'm glad you're here."

Harper nodded, resting her head against his chest. "Me too."

—

Harper's stomach churned as she made her way through the quiet halls toward the headmaster's office. Her mind raced with possibilities — had her mum found out about the late-night escapades? Had somebody seen her sneaking out of the boys dorm? Was she in trouble?

She knocked lightly, then stepped inside.

The headmaster looked up, a warm smile on his face. "Harper, come in. Have a seat."

Her heart pounded, but she took the chair offered.

"I wanted to talk to you because I've been hearing some very good things," he said. "Your math level has improved significantly over the course of the term — and I understand that with dyscalculia, this is something to be very proud of."

Harper blinked, surprised.

"I understand that there's been some study sessions with a few of your classmates during your free time in the common rooms. A few teachers found the pinned-up schedules amusing. But that kind of initiative is impressive."

She let out a relieved breath, a smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, sir."

"It really is a fantastic turn around, Harper. Keep it up."

As she left the office, the tension eased from her shoulders.

Maybe things were looking up after all.

—

Oscar sat on the sofa in the common room, phone balanced on his knee, his parents' faces bright on the screen.

"It's been great to hear from you, mate," his dad said, smiling.

Oscar grinned. "Yeah. You too."

The door opened softly, and Harper stepped inside, still catching her breath from P.E., cheeks flushed.

She paused, then eased herself down next to Oscar, curling up against his side.

Oscar glanced at the screen and said, "Harper's here."

Oscar's mum smiled warmly. "Hello, Harper, sweetheart."

"Hi," Harper murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head on Oscar's shoulder.

Oscar slipped an arm around her, fingers gently brushing her hair.

The conversation continued quietly, but Harper drifted off, the soft rhythm of Oscar's voice and the warmth of the room lulling her into a calm nap.

—

The cafeteria was quiet, soft morning light filtering through the windows. Harper sat at their small table, pushing her usual bowl of Weetabix aside.

"I'm not really feeling up for that," she said softly. "Just some toast, yeah?"

Oscar looked up from his cereal, eyebrows knitting together in quiet concern but not pressing. "Yeah. Yeah, of course," he said, sliding a plate across to her. "Whatever you want."

Harper nibbled at the edges, her stomach twisting uncomfortably, but she shrugged it off.

"Just feel a bit gross, probably nothing," she muttered, a bit frustrated. "Maybe it was that chilli we had last night. It tasted weird."

Oscar reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. "If you want, I can find you some ginger tea? My mum always made me drink it when I got sick."

She smiled faintly, grateful for the thought. "I'll be fine. Thanks, though."

She shuffled closer to him throughout breakfast, until she was practically on his lap as the ready of the sleepy students came pouring in.

Jane slammed her tray down on the table and said, "Can you believe that the prom theme is going to be 'Pirates'. I mean — who the hell came up with that?"

Harper giggled against Oscar's shoulder.

—

The bell had just rung, and students spilled into the hallway. Harper was making her way slowly toward the common room when she spotted Oscar waiting near the door.

He caught her eye immediately and fell into step beside her.

"You feeling okay?" He asked quietly, voice low enough that no one else could hear.

Harper shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Better. Still a bit off, but it's nothing."

Oscar studied her for a moment, concern softening his features. "Want me to walk you back to your dorm? Or maybe grab some fresh air?"

She nodded, grateful for the offer. "Yeah, that'd be good."

They walked together, the afternoon sun warm on their backs, and Harper leaned just a little closer to him.

—

The last weeks of the school year felt heavier somehow — classes wrapped up, corridors buzzing with end-of-year chatter, but Harper's thoughts kept drifting.

She sat beside Oscar on the astroturf, the chill in the air making them both pull their jackets tighter.

"Four weeks," she murmured, voice soft. "That's how long you'll be gone."

Oscar nodded, eyes tracing the frost on the pitch. "I know. It'll feel like forever."

Harper looked down at her hands, twisting the little rope bracelet Oscar had given her. It was black and white; the colours of a chequered flag. The finish line.

"I'm going to miss you," she admitted, the words tasting strange but true.

Oscar reached over, fingers brushing hers. "I'll miss you too. But it's not forever. We've got FaceTime, texts..."

She smiled faintly, though the lump in her throat didn't go away. "Promise you won't forget about me," she said, voice barely above a whisper. It was ridiculous, but she was feeling just a tiny bit delicate.

"I promise, babe," Oscar said, squeezing her hand.

She took a deep breath and let his words settle something in her chest.

—

The snow had started falling just before dusk, blanketing the city in soft white as Harper and her mother walked briskly up Fifth Avenue. The holiday lights sparkled across shop windows, casting golden reflections against the ice-slicked pavement. It should have felt magical — it usually did — but this year, everything felt off.

Her mother was walking a few steps ahead, as always. Perfect posture, sleek gloves, eyes forward like she was leading a press conference instead of walking to her parents' townhouse.

"Straighten your scarf," she said without looking back. "You're not ten."

Harper didn't answer. She just adjusted the scarf, more out of habit than compliance.

Her grandparents' house was beautiful in that cold, museum-like way — all polished marble and antique chandeliers. They were kind enough, but Harper always felt like a stranger to them.

Dinner was stiff. Conversation danced around neutral topics — school, future plans, the weather in London — but never quite landed. Harper could feel her mother's eyes on her every time she spoke, like she was a sentence away from saying something inappropriate.

When dessert was served, Harper quietly excused herself and climbed the stairs to the guest bedroom, her phone already in hand.

She laid across the bedspread, scrolling through old photos of her and Oscar — blurry selfies after he'd climbed out of his kart, the one where he'd fallen asleep during a maths session, the video of him trying orange marmalade for the first time and gagging like it was poison.

Her chest ached.

There was a message waiting for her.

Oscar: Made it to the beach before Mum could shove a Santa hat on me. Send help. Miss you.

She smiled, blinking hard.

Harper: You'd better FaceTime me tomorrow. Or I swear I'll swim to Australia just to see you.

—

Harper sat cross-legged on the guest bed, the soft hum of New York traffic muffled by snow and distance. Laughter floated up faintly from the living room downstairs — the clink of glasses, her grandfather's booming voice, her mother's delicate laugh, like porcelain.

She stared at her phone until it buzzed, the screen lighting up with one name.

FaceTime Incoming: Oscar

She answered immediately.

Oscar's face appeared, backlit by sunshine. He was sitting outside, shirtless and tanned, with the ocean glinting behind him.

"Merry Christmas," he said, grinning.

Harper smiled, the tightness in her chest easing a little just at the sound of his voice. "Merry Christmas, beach boy."

"Snow yet?"

"Everything's white. Including the tablecloth. And every single guest."

He huffed out a dry laugh. "You okay?"

Harper nodded, though it wasn't entirely true. "Better now."

He looked at her through the screen, really looked. "It's been weird not seeing you almost every day."

"It's horrible," she admitted, flopping back on the bed and bringing the phone with her. "She made me wear this velvet dress that itches like hell. I would sell my soul for a hoodie and one of your perfect plates of breakfast toast."

Oscar chuckled, lying back on a sun chair, mirroring her position. "We had a barbecue. Dad burned the sausages. Classic."

There was a pause — not awkward, but full.

"I miss you," Harper said softly, picking at a fraying thread on the sleeve of her dress.

"I miss you too," Oscar replied, quieter this time.

Neither of them said it, but it hung in the space between them: I love you — unspoken, but understood.

"We'll be back home soon," she said, more to herself than to him.

"Ten days."

"Not like I'm counting."

Oscar smiled. "I'll call you tonight. Properly. When the house is quiet."

"Okay."

"Go be elegant and miserable," he teased.

"And you go burn in the sun."

"I'm wearing SPF."

She smiled again, softer now, the ache still there, but bearable.

"Bye, Osc."

"Bye, Harps."

—

The train ride had been long. The platform cold. And Harper's suitcase wheel had started squeaking halfway across campus.

But none of that mattered the second she saw him.

He was already there — leaning against the gate near the common room, hoodie half-zipped, hair sun-lightened from two weeks under the Australian sky. He looked taller. Or maybe she just missed him that much.

Oscar straightened the second their eyes met.

Neither of them said anything at first. He just stepped forward and took her suitcase handle from her hand like it was second nature, like she hadn't been gone for 28 days, 16 FaceTimes, and countless messages.

Harper looked up at him, trying to smile but it wobbled. "Hey."

"Hi," he said, and his voice caught on it.

She opened her arms before she could think better of it, and he pulled her into him like he'd been holding his breath since December.

His nose tucked against her temple. "You're freezing," he murmured.

"You're warm," she whispered back.

They stood there for a while, unmoving, while students bustled past with post-holiday energy and distant laughter filled the air. None of it touched them.

Finally, Harper leaned back just enough to look up at him. "You got taller."

"You got sadder," he said gently. "But you're back now."

She nodded, eyes stinging. "I missed this."

"I missed you."

They didn't kiss — not here, not in-front of everyone — but his hand found hers and didn't let go as they walked the familiar path toward the dorms.

Back to routine. Back to toast and maths study and Astro nights and quiet, stolen moments.

Back to where they belonged.

—

Harper was half-draped across Jane's bed, a leftover Quality Street melting on her tongue, while Jane rooted through her suitcase with dramatic flair.

"I forgot how depressing the lighting is in this room," Jane muttered. "It's like they want us to slowly wilt."

"You're very tan though," Harper said through a yawn. "So it looks fine."

Jane straightened up triumphantly, holding up a pink silk scrunchie like it was a crown jewel. "There it is."

Harper blinked. "That's what you were hunting for?"

"Excuse you — this scrunchie survived the Atlantic Ocean." Jane dropped it on her desk and flopped beside Harper. "I swam on Christmas Day. It was freezing. I highly recommend getting your period before beach season. It was the first year I didn't have to stress about leaking in the Mediterranean and attracting sharks."

Harper smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

A beat.

And then another.

And then—

Her face drained of colour.

"Oh."

Jane tilted her head. "What?"

Harper sat up, very suddenly, like the air had gone too tight. "I haven't... I haven't had mine."

Jane blinked. "Like—"

"I didn't think about it, I just—" Harper's voice trailed off as she stared at the wall. "I've felt sick. Tired. I haven't wanted my Weetabix."

Jane was still for a beat, then reached out and put a steadying hand on Harper's knee. "Okay. Breathe. It could be stress. Travel. Life."

Harper nodded slowly, but her brain was moving a million miles an hour. "Yeah. Yeah. Totally. Stress."

But Jane could see it in her eyes.

That switch had flipped.

Something inside Harper knew — whether or not she was ready to say it out loud.

—

She didn't knock.

She didn't even hesitate.

Harper shoved open the door to the boys' dorm common room, heart in her throat, fingers trembling, her mind screaming in spirals. Oscar was on the floor with Alfie and Matt, half-focused on a Mario Kart match, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, looking so calm it almost made her dizzy.

He looked up immediately.

And stood up faster than she'd ever seen him move.

"Hey— Harps?"

She just stared at him for a second, trying to speak, trying to make the words form. She couldn't do this with anyone else. Only him.

"I—" Her voice broke. "Can we talk? Please?"

"Yeah. Of course." He was already crossing the room, grabbing her hand, guiding her down the hallway toward his room without another word. The door closed behind them with a soft click.

Oscar turned to her, brows knit with concern. "What happened? What's wrong?"

She opened her mouth, closed it, then forced the words out before she could second guess them.

"I think I might be pregnant."

Silence.

Not judgment, not panic — just... stillness. The way Oscar always went quiet before a race, centring himself.

Harper blinked fast. "I haven't had my period. I've been nauseous, tired, my brain's a mess. And I didn't notice— I didn't think—" Her voice cracked. "I'm not saying I am. But I might be. And I don't know what to do."

Oscar stepped forward and gently took her hands in his, grounding her.

"Okay," he said simply, his voice steady. "Fuck. Okay. We'll figure this out."

Harper let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "I didn't know what to do. I just panicked."

Oscar's eyes softened. "Yeah but you did the right thing. You came to me."

She nodded, chest tight, and leaned into him. His arms wrapped around her without hesitation, warm and sure.

"Whatever happens," he murmured, "we'll handle it."

Harper sniffled. "I'm fifteen, Oscar. Fifteen."

He closer his eyes. "Shit, yeah. I know. Me too." He laughed.

Nothing about this situation was funny.

She couldn't help but laugh too, a warped, wet kind of sound.

—

The chemist in the village was almost empty. Harper kept her head down, winter hat pulled low, scarf wrapped high. Oscar stood beside her, tall and quiet, his hoodie sleeves tugged nervously over his hands. He didn't say much — didn't need to — just waited beside her.

They didn't look at the packaging too long. Just grabbed the one that looked familiar, Oscar paid in cash, and they left without a word.

—

Back at school, they slipped into the small student toilet block behind the science building — the one Oscar had jimmied the lock on once during a thunderstorm. It was quiet. Private. The only place that didn't feel like it had ears and eyes everywhere.

Harper set the box down on the sink with trembling hands.

"You don't have to stay," she whispered.

Oscar shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded. "Okay."

She went in, closed the door, and a moment later, came back out holding the test in shaking fingers. He didn't look at it. He just held her free hand and guided her to sit on the windowsill.

They set it down on the ledge between them.

A timer on Oscar's phone started counting down.

Two minutes.

Neither of them spoke.

Oscar's thumb stroked the inside of her palm, rhythmic and slow.

Harper stared at the test, as if watching it would make it kinder.

Her voice was barely a breath. "I'm scared."

"I know," Oscar said. "Me too."

Thirty seconds left.

The world outside the window was silver-grey, students scattered across the grass in the distance, oblivious. Everything felt fragile.

Fifteen seconds.

Ten.

Five.

Harper's grip tightened.

"Do we look?" She asked.

Oscar nodded once. "Together."

She reached for the test with trembling fingers.

—

The rain had started again. A soft pattering against the windows that filled the silence like a lullaby.

Oscar lay behind her on her narrow dorm bed, one arm around her waist, the other tucked beneath his head. Harper was curled into herself, facing the wall, her fingers gripping the edge of the duvet like it might keep her from floating away.

He hadn't said much when she showed him the test. Just took one look at her face, reached out, and pulled her into him.

Now he was just holding her.

Breathing with her.

Letting her be silent.

Her cheek was damp against the pillow, but she wasn't crying anymore. She felt wrung out, like all the air had been squeezed from her lungs, like her bones were vibrating with too many thoughts that had nowhere to go.

Oscar pressed his nose into the back of her shoulder. His voice was a whisper. "It's going to be okay."

She didn't answer. Just nodded once.

He didn't say it to convince her. He said it because it was the only thing he could offer — his calm. His presence. His belief in her, in them, in the idea that they'd somehow survive this.

His hand slid down to rest gently over hers.

She swallowed hard. "I don't know how far along I am."

"We'll figure it out."

She turned in his arms then, finally facing him, her eyes red-rimmed and tired. "I don't feel like a real person right now."

Oscar blinked slowly, brushing her hair back from her forehead. "Yeah. I feel a bit out of it too."

She let out a small, watery laugh.

And then she tucked her head into his chest, and he held her tighter, as if he could anchor her to something solid.

Outside, the rain kept falling.

Inside, it was quiet.

NEXT CHAPTER

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le-trash-prince · 2 days ago

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That KimKenta Scene

Kim truly has so much empathy and understanding. Here's a man that no one would blame Kim if he hated him, but all Kim can see is Kenta's hurt.

I also just uhhh need to scream at the sun because we've never seen anyone ask Kenta how he feels about anything, and here Kim comes and rips the bandaid off of the gaping wound of Kenta's heart.

Kenta tries to dodge Kim's question, so Kim responds in true Kim fashion, by being more direct. And more than that, he sits down next to Kenta, putting the two of them on even ground. If he wants honesty from Kenta, he can't talk down to him.

It makes me think of the most personal conversation Pete and Kenta have had with each other so far this season, and how much Pete towered over Kenta the whole time.

But Kim meets Kenta where he’s at. And sitting next to Kenta also lets him see Kenta's face, because that's where the answers lie. Yes, he's heartbroken, yes, he's in love with Pete. It's written all over Kenta's face.

cue Kenta's internal flashback that Pit Babe knows it doesn't even have to show us:

bc the visuals of Kenta and Kim sitting side by side in black and white are such a distinct reminder of That One Time Pete Found Out About Kenta's Feelings. And while there's ambiguity about whether Pete actually truly knows how Kenta feels, the man is a touch empath.

Kim's solution to everything is of course to tackle it head on. "Just tell him, and then maybe you can be happy." Kim assumes that Pete doesn't already know because 1. When do Tony Chen's kids ever talk about their feelings? And 2. If Pete knew about Kenta's feelings, why would he treat Kenta the way he has. (And 3. If Kenta loved you, how could you do anything but love him back? Impossible in Kim's opinion)

And this tiny, self-deprecating smile Kenta gives here tears me to shreds. "No way." He knows there's no chance. He's always known there was no chance.

This is translated as "He just doesn't feel the same," but what Kenta says is "kao kae mai dai chop pom." He just doesn't like me.

I think they probably translated it the way they did to remove the ambiguity of the word "like," to clarify that Kenta's romantic feelings aren't returned. But the ambiguity cuts me to pieces every time I listen to this line bc if Kenta feels like Pete just... doesn't like him? As a person? Like Pete only cares for him out of a sense of obligation, but doesn't actually want to be around him? Like a family member who you're tied to, but you don't actually like? I need to go outside and scream at the sun.

And there's the Oh. on Kim's face. Because yeah, sometimes honesty has its price, and that price is having someone knowing you love them and them walking away from you anyways without a single reassurance that they care about you.

And I wonder how much Kim is reassessing all the interactions he’s seen between Pete and Kenta. The way Pete left Kenta with Kim. The way he said he would find an escape route for Kenta and then never mentioned it again. The way Kenta was willing to put himself at risk by leaving Kim's apartment to go talk to Pete, only for Pete to ask, “Do we have to do this now?” The way Kenta could have been killed earlier that day, and Pete never once asked if he was okay.

"Never felt anything for me." "He just doesn't like me." I'm falling apart at the seams I swear to god.

Kenta has spent his whole life chasing affection from Tony and from Pete, only to be abandoned by Pete and treated like an animal by Tony. And he just accepts it. He accepts that he's never had a father and that Pete doesn't even like him. I need to bundle him into a pile of blankets. I'm going to chew my arm off.

But it's okay because Kim is gonna bundle him up in love for me. I'm certain this is the first time anyone has ever told Kenta he could be loved. And Kim says it so easily, so matter-of-factly, like it's a simple truth. It doesn't feel like an empty platitude from Kim, it just reflects the way he lives his life. If you meet an obstacle, you either find a way through it, or you shift your trajectory.

Kenta gives Kim such a dubious look in response, though, like the idea of being loved is a fairy tale he stopped believing in long ago. He can't believe that anyone would truly love him because no one ever has. As much as it's a truth for Kim that Kenta can be loved, it's a truth for Kenta that it's impossible.

Except Kenta still craves love anyways. It's why he immediately replaced Tony with Pete, why he's trying to make Pete proud, why he keeps showing up at Pete's in the middle of the night to go, "Hey look, I can be useful, won't you let me stay?"

I know it's impossible for Kenta to believe Kim right now. But even if he resists the idea of Kim loving him, Kim will be determined to prove it to him. Already, he's earned Kenta's trust through simple, concrete actions. More than anyone else right now, Kim is in a position to hurt and torment Kenta, and instead he keeps going out of his way to help Kenta. He has sheltered Kenta, he has kept Kenta from isolating himself, and more than that, he has seen Kenta without judgement.

And the fact that Kenta was willing to open up this much to Kim is proof of that trust. Kenta spent all of s1 hiding his pain and suffering, and the only time his mask crumbles around other people is when he is at a breaking point.

But with Kim, with the first person to ask how Kenta feels, he's able to let himself be vulnerable enough to say Everything I have ever done has been for men who never loved me. And in return for that vulnerability, Kim reaffirms that trust by telling him, It's okay, you can still be loved anyways.

#this took me two days bc i kept having to close the tab and stare at the ceiling #em post #pit babe #pit babe the series #pit babe 2 #long post #pit babe meta #kimkenta #kenta pit babe #kim minsu

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sturkillerbase · 21 hours ago

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Touch Starved!

Summary: How the JJK men touch you before and after being in a relationship with you - and how they're always dying to do so!

Neutral reader!

Including: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru (separated)

Genre: Fluff (lots of it!)

Wordcount: 5.8k total - 1.8k for Nanami and Gojo. 2k for Geto's

Notes: Very quick mention of periods in Gojo's, but it's so quick you can easily ignore it if you're a person who doesn't get periods. No physical descriptions and no use of Y/N.

Warnings: One brief mention of (little) blood.

A/N: Boy oh boy. This has been sitting in my docs for over a month as I ponder weather it's good enough for posting or not. Reasons being that 1. it's my first JJK fic and 2. I haven't written anything in over 2 years. So I'm really not confident about my rusty writing skills. When I was proofreading it, I thought Nanami's part wasn't good enough, but didn't know how to make it better! Which led to two more weeks of me not wanting to post it. But today I've summoned the courage and BAM! Here it is! Anyways, hope you like it (and let me know if you do, please)! Proofread but let me know if you spot some error.

Nanami Kento

Nanami never touches you. He may be dying for any kind of touch - a slight brushing of hands when you hand him something, your arms pressing against each other during a car drive, accidentally bumping into you as he enters the room you’re exiting – but none of it ever happens. He wouldn’t let it. He’s too respectful to let it happen. Damn, he’ll rush to the car just so he can take the passenger seat before anyone else does. Well, the front seats are more dangerous, of course he’ll take it so anyone else does. And his legs are longer anyway so there's more room for him. These are his actual reasons, right?

Plus, a ten-minute drive would turn into a ten-hour long one in his brain if you were pressed against him. Every tiny bump on the road making you press and rub on each other for a fraction of a second. He’d probably pass out.

The most he’d touch would be with his fingertips, ever so slightly, barely there even. And only on your shoulders or the very top of your back, in case he needed to walk past you in a narrow space, or maybe get your attention silently.

And even with that, he’d be flexing his hand open and then closing it into a tight fist, nervous like a little boy. His face was absolutely neutral, though. Yes, kinda like that one Pride and Prejudice scene.

There was this one time he really messed up. Couldn’t even sleep that night. He was sitting at the table, talking to Shoko, and as he described whatever it was that he was talking about (he couldn’t remember anymore), he stretched out his arm to the side in a gesture, just as you were walking by, and accidentally brushed your thigh, close to your knee. A feather-like, quick brush.

Oh no.

He apologized deeply. Sincerely. Guilt (and shame) in his face, his voice, his whole body. You said it was okay, that it was nothing, no need to worry. All while giving him that damn sweet smile of yours. You sat down as well, joining them, and as he felt heat creep up from his stomach to his neck, he excused himself and stood up quickly, fixing his perfectly-in-place tie, so none of you would see him blushing. What if you were just being nice? What if you thought he was disrespectful? A creep? What if you didn’t like him anymore? Hated him? He was in a cold sweat, laying on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, barely blinking.

But oh boy was he touch starved. He craved for the most simple things. Anything would do it at this point. A high five. A gentle poke of your finger on his shoulder. Taking an eyelash off your cheek with his fingertip and having you blow it away for luck.

He’d been thinking of a chance to hug you. Being able to feel your soft form against him as he gets to smell your lovely perfume straight out of you, and not just having the breeze blow it towards him. Honestly that breeze was very disrespectful, forcing him to smell things he couldn’t have.

How far was Christmas? He could hug you then. Or New Years perhaps. There was also your birthday. It’s okay to hug people on their birthdays, he could do that without being weird.

There was this other time that caused him to heat up like a boiler. You fixed his tie after he finished tying it back around his neck, after a particularly intense fight against several curses at once. Technically, you didn’t touch him, you just touched his tie. But he felt your fingers lightly on his chest, just above his dress shirt. That alone was enough to have him shaking. “There. Better.” You said, looking up at him with a soft smile. How did you manage to look so cute even after a crazy, tiring fight, clothes covered in dust, a tiny splash of blood across your cheek? He, once again, had to hide his intense blushing, muttering a low “thank you” as he looked away, cheeks red and ears on fire. He cleared his throat, trying to see if he could get his voice to sound anything above a whisper. He was just fine after all that fight, it was you who had taken away all of his strength. Thankfully, there wasn’t much light where you were to make his obvious blush contrast against his pale skin and hair. You didn’t see it.

He started dusting off his clothes, tapping away at himself, more to get his head out of those nervous thoughts than to actually clean himself. You did the same. And then, as he finally recomposed himself enough to turn back to you, your arm reached up. Up, up, up above his jaw, his ear, to the top of his head.

“There’s something here…” you said, nonchalantly, as you brushed out something that had gotten caught in his hair.

God, why were you so touchy today?!

He just watched your movement, thanking you with a little “mm-hm” – there goes his voice again.

There was something on your hair as well. He had noticed earlier. Could he brush it away for you too? Would it be weird if he did? Was doing that being a gentleman? Well, it wouldn’t be gentlemanly of him to let you walk out with something – a tiny thing – on your hair, right?

“There’s, uh-“ He started, nervous “you have something up here, too…” he said, and then reached for it with a touch so light you didn’t even feel it. But he did. And oh my, was your hair soft.

“Thank you.” you said, cheerfully. He gave you a brief nod.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He then quickly grabbed his phone to call Ijichi so he could come pick you two up and get him away from this dangerous scenario he found himself in: you.

When Ijichi finally arrived, Nanami did what he always does, and rushed to the passenger seat. And once you were all seated and buckled up, and Ijichi started driving again, Nanami cursed himself for forgetting to open the car door for you. Where were his manners? His mother taught him better than that.

Later that night, the warmth from your fingers adjusting his tie was still lingering on his chest. He covered his face with a pillow and let out a long, “I’m such an idiot”, loud breath.

Things didn’t change much after you started dating. He had, somehow, managed to gather up the courage to ask you out (this may or may not have involved Gojo telling him he would tell you about Nanami’s crush himself, in front of everyone, very loudly). On your first date, the only touch was your goodbye kiss on his cheek, which had him giggling and kicking his feet in the air the moment you closed the door to your place and he was out of your eyesight. He smiled to himself about it all through the night until he fell asleep, heart beating quickly.

On your third date, you slipped your fingers through his as you two walked around the park, under colorful trees. When you parted ways, his hand was burning, shaking even. He considered not washing it that day.

On the fourth date, he was bold! Reaching across the table to hold your hand. That night, he took another extra step and kissed your cheek back, slipping a gentle pinch to your chin as he wished you a good night, which had you melting.

Took him a few more dates to get comfortable touching you. Now, don’t get him wrong. He wanted to do it desperately, but he didn’t know if he was more afraid of disrespecting you or just touching you at all, like a pre teen boy around his very first crush. Still, he’s a man who takes his time, and respects yours above all else.

After you’re in an established relationship though, Nanami can finally wrap himself around you, just like he’s always dreamed of. And much before Christmas too! He’ll kiss you all over when you least expect it. He’ll lay on your lap, or lay on you, as you’re resting on the couch. You never fell asleep without being in his arms again - except when he cuddles into you and you have him in your arms instead. He’ll hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder as you do something, even as you’re brushing your teeth. And don’t be surprised when he does it while you’re showering too! Walk by him whenever he’s sitting down and be sure he’s going to pull you into his lap, earning a cute little gasp from you. He holds you with so much care and love, like you’re the very reason for his breathing, but at the same time tight enough to make sure you’ll not, somehow, slip away. Like you would ever!

His kisses? Slow, tender, filled with love and affection, eyes full of adoration as he pulls away and looks into your own, gently caressing your cheek. You didn’t know you could ever meet someone with so much love in them. Nanami didn’t know he could feel so much love in him.

He’s the softest. And he’s the softest even in your most private moments, when things get particularly intense. Within the rough gripping and the clashing of teeth, you can still feel the tenderness in his touch, and the extra care in the little love bites he leaves all over your body. He may grab your neck or pull your hair, but always a bit less than you both know you can take. You’ve told him he could let go, but that’s just Nanami. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than that to you. Even if he wanted to give you that extra harsh slap that you ask him for (beg even) as you’re out of breath, his hand just… can’t.

And you love him exactly as he is.

He’s not one for a lot of public display of affection. He likes to keep his private life private. Also, he’s a bit shy when around others. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do anything at all. Holding your hand, keeping an arm around your waist, kissing your forehead, taking your arm into his as you walk through a crowded place - he couldn’t bare accidentally getting separated from his dearest.

And don’t forget the little soft pinches on your chin, just like that one time on your fourth date. He normally sneaks those when you’re in a setting where he can’t give you a quick kiss, or, honestly, just for the fun of it, because he loves to watch you absolutely melt, cheeks growing pink and a childish smile spreading on your face. Every time. Every. time.

Sometimes he even thinks that you might be his actual heart, and this thing that is beating inside his chest is just… something else.

And when he looks at you, no matter where or when, he just knows he will never stop being so eager to touch you, however it is. How could he? You’re the love of his life, after all.

Gojo Satoru

Now, we all know Gojo is all over everybody. Always slinging his arms around other people’s shoulders and invading their personal space. Especially if it’s someone he’s fond of. Not that he doesn’t touch people he dislikes and that he knows dislike him back, just to annoy them. It’s his not-so-secret pleasure.

So yeah, he’s always all over you. Giving you attention or pouting as he begs for your attention. It becomes more and more frequent, and he doesn’t hide it. Soon it’s clear for everybody that he's crushing hard on you. The students start teasing him during class and as they cross paths at school, but he just let’s them. It’s the truth, anyway.

But if you think he’s not touch starved even though he’s constantly touching you, you’re wrong. Very wrong. He’s longing, aching for more. And it’s not sexual, no. Not that the thought hasn’t crossed his mind more than once, but it’s not it. He wants to pick you up and bury his nose on your neck. Wants to kiss you every time you do something great, and kiss you every time for no reason other than wanting to as well. Wants to hold you extra close, your body tight against his, face on his chest, as you two fall asleep together. He wants you to run your fingers through his hair as he lays on your lap after a long, exhausting day. Wants to massage your neck and shoulders when you are the one who had a long day. Once you complained about menstrual cramps and said you really wish you had a heat bag around. Well, it took everything on him to not launch himself at you and place his warm hands over your lower belly (yes, he’s an “uterUS” guy).

When he gets to hug you, as in, when he just hugs you for no reason, he gets your scent all over him and his clothes for the rest of the day, and oh, he loves it. Find him walking around with a dumb(er) smile plastered on his face for the rest of the day. But when night comes and he’s alone at home, he begins to despise it, because you’re not there. And of course he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem by texting the guy group chat he made exclusively for talking about his crush on you. Poor Geto and Nanami (Nanami has left the group chat several times, but Gojo keeps adding him back). He even sends whiny audios.

He doesn’t want to mess things up with you. So he’s also asked the girls around him for dating advice. Shoko quickly dismissed him with a thick puff of cigarette smoke. Mai just told him “don’t” because she thinks you deserve better. Nobara started by listing all the reasons he was not fit for having a girlfriend, but eventually started talking so much about what a guy should do and how a guy should behave that he had to start taking notes on his cellphone so he wouldn’t forget anything. Of course, when he thanked her, she made him buy her a new jacket as an actual thank you.

And while he doesn’t come up with a date idea he’s satisfied with, he’ll have to settle with what he has for now.

And as you two get even closer, you start to get touchier too. You start by poking him around every now and then, eyes glowing with mischief when you find his ticklish spots. You lean into him as you two are looking down at the same thing. Hold onto his arm randomly, just because. Until you also start hugging him at any chance you get. And oh boy, is Gojo absolutely delighted. His hopes were more up than ever, and this was a sample of heaven. Actual heaven would be when you two finally get into a relationship. Preferably married. Geto and Nanami keep having to tell him to calm down.

Your first date wasn’t like Gojo planned. In fact, he didn’t even ask you out. But it wasn’t bad at all.

It happened when you two found yourselves in a strangely romantic setting after fighting some grade one cursed spirits that showed up in the middle of a crowded carnival. Of course, everyone fled the place, and it was deserted, but everything was still working (except for a couple rides and tents that were destroyed during the fight). So, you and Gojo grabbed some (free!) snacks and headed to the ferris wheel, admiring the night sky together.

“This kinda feels like a date, doesn’t it?” He said after a brief moment of comfortable silence, without thinking much, and mentally facepalming at his dumb ass and big mouth. He kept his eyes glued onto the sky after this and stuffed his face with more candy.

“Do you want it to be?” You asked, chill on the outside, shaking on the inside.

Gojo looked at you so fast his neck actually hurt, eyes wide and cheeks full of candy, just like a chipmunk. He swallowed it all down with a big, kinda painful gulp.

“Well, I– I wouldn’t mind…” he answered, his heart beating so fast his chest was hurting. Or was it the candy he swallowed way too soon?

You could see his whole face turning red even under the dim light, and you held back a giggle. Seeing this big guy turn into a very tiny one so quick was adorable.

“Cool. It’s a date, then.” You said with a smile.

It was no surprise that you two kissed on that very same night, you being as down bad for him as he was for you. Gojo was glad your eyes were shut as you kissed, this way you couldn’t see him frowning and scrunching up his nose as he tried his best not to kiss you desperately. ‘Be normal, Gojo Satoru’, he thought to himself.

Of course, he acted like his super chilled self once you parted, smiling like he wasn’t squealing like a little girl in his head.

Didn’t take long after he became your boyfriend for him to start suggesting you two should move in together. Took even less time for him to start begging for it.

“But baby, I want to cuddle with you every night, and wake up still holding you every day, and have the entire house smelling like you always, especially when you walk out of the shower. I want to sniff all that soap scent out of you. Please! I don’t want to be left with just some pictures of you when I could have real you there.” He said the last sentence with a big pout and huge puppy eyes. You had come to find his eyes could, somehow, get even bigger when he was being whiny like this.

You had also come to find that you couldn’t say no to him.

Damn that lanky man.

Oh, and by “some pictures”, don’t believe him. It was loads of pictures. There were countless pictures of your face everywhere in his house: in the living room, in the kitchen, the bedroom, the study, and even in the bathroom. Yes, he hung one there and refused to take it out. Even when you moved in. So you gave up trying to get it out of there and instead hung a picture of him by yours.

He loved it.

Although finally satisfied with how much he could touch you at any time he wanted, at night he would still wrap himself all around you, entangling his long legs with yours, elated that you were his at last. It was uncomfortable sometimes, having these bumps between you and the mattress, but getting out of his embrace wasn’t a choice. All you could do was wiggle and grunt a little until he moved his limbs into a more comfortable position for you - because he, for one, didn’t mind being uncomfortable as long as he was all around you. Holding you tight was his idea comfortable. And God, if he could become one with you he absolutely would.

Even during summer, he would turn on the AC on the lowest setting just so he could be all over you without you complaining about it being too hot. And if the house got too cold, don’t worry, he’ll heat you up with his whole body, like a personal, portable heater. Or a living blanket.

You were never cold during winter either, because at the smallest of the chills on your body, he would be there. Be it by rubbing your arms and hugging you while you were out or pulling a warm, fuzzy blanket over the two of you when you were home. Hell, he didn’t even think it was that bad when you mischievously put your ice cold feet on his back simply for the fact that that was you touching him. And your punishment for this? Being trapped tightly in his arms while he showers you with quick, loud kisses that makes the skin on your face and neck tickle. Oh, and he will sneak a kiss right on your ear, just to watch you squirm and the goosebumps on your skin, your laugh and his filling the room.

Worried you'll crush him when you lay on top of him. Well, worry no more, really - he wants you to.

Gojo couldn’t be any happier.

And that group chat? Never forgotten. He would still constantly update the boys on everything you two did together.

“We fought :C”

“We’re talking again!!!!”

“We went out and had swiss roll cake today ☺️”

Nanami blocked him when he got the “GUYS, IT HAPPENED! WE SPENT THE NIGHT TOGETHER” message. If there was one thing Nanami would not read it would be what Satoru Gojo did in bed with someone.

But be not afraid. Gojo would never, ever expose you like that. No. He’d pluck his eyes out and die before he did anything harmful to you. What he did was ramble on and on about how perfect it was and how happy he was and how it was everything he’d dreamed of and more.

Poor Geto (who has the patience of a saint, really) had to go through it all, reading each new message slowly, with care and fear, also afraid that Gojo could end up spilling too much in his excitement.

All Geto could say after Gojo was done talking was “I’m glad for you, Satoru 😊”, earning several lovestruck stickers from Gojo.

Since he started dating you, it never took too much to make the man happy. Just being with you, seeing you, or even just mentioning you was enough to have him glowing.

But nothing compared to having you in his arms, safe and sound.

It did take a whole lot to get Nanami to unblock him, though.

Geto Suguru

Dear Geto’s hands are tingling, itching, burning to touch you. When he’s watching you, he unconsciously starts fidgeting with his hands, rubbing his fingers together, digging his nails into his palms, cracking his fingers, shoving them into his pockets so he can grab the fabric of his pants.

Gojo notices how Geto starts doing this more and more often, but he hasn't figured out why yet. Until the day he’s finally going to ask Geto if he’s alright, and if there’s anything going on. When he shifts his gaze from Geto’s hands to his face, he catches him stealing a look at you, not so discreet this time. He was clearly not paying attention to what Gojo was saying just seconds ago.

A smile creeps up on Gojo’s face. He thinks it’s cute, really. Seeing his best friend fall for someone. But what’s much, much better is that now he’s got an amazing reason (or should we say one more) to tease poor old Suguru nonstop.

But what Geto doesn’t realize is that he’s already touching you. All the time. You two are close friends. Have been for good a while. And he’s always respected you, obviously. You are comfortable around each other. So it kind of makes sense that he doesn’t notice when he starts doing so.

He’ll sometimes whine about being tired as the two of you are sitting down on the couch, and lay his head on your shoulder. He also does that when you show him something on your phone. If you two are standing, he’ll rest his cheek on your head.

Other times, he’ll just hook his pinkie around yours as you walk side by side. When you’re in a crowded place though, he’ll either walk behind you with his hands on your shoulder, especially if he's guiding you somewhere or you're guiding him, or sneak his arm around your waist. Depends if he’s feeling more playful or moody that day.

Oh, and speaking about waist, that’s his absolute favorite spot to hold you. He’s standing or leaning somewhere and you come by? He’ll immediately reach out for your waist and pull you close, having you rest your body against his. He’s sitting down and you’re standing? There comes that arm firmly pulling you to him, thumb gently rubbing your side.

The latter had you start to (also subconsciously) do something similar: if you’re sitting and he stops by your side, you’ll give his pants a gentle tug to get him to stand closer so you can rest your head on his hip. And no one is surprised when, after a while, Geto’s hand goes from resting on your shoulder to caressing your head.

Oh, don’t forget the amazing bear hugs he’ll give you all of a sudden, making you gasp in surprise and then start to giggle as you hug him back, wonderfully nestled into him.

He doesn’t even have to look before reaching for you anymore. He’s memorized all the bits of you at this point. He would think it’s ridiculous, hadn’t he been so oblivious to his own actions.

And you enjoy it all, leaning into him and basking in the warmth and peace that radiate from him. Because you like him just as much as he likes you. You just don’t know it yet.

Gojo noticed this not too long after noticing Geto’s feelings for you. He actually realizes you like Geto much before you do. And he’s perplexed by it all. How can the two of you be so oblivious about it?! He’s so perplexed he doesn’t even tease as much as he normally would, too invested into watching the two of you being absolutely clueless around each other. Eventually he starts talking about it with Shoko, and they obviously make a bet on who’s going to confess first.

Geto also finds himself growing jealous and rather possessive of you (in a normal way, not in a toxic, creepy way). If looks could kill, so many people would’ve spontaneously combusted by now, just from the glare he sends anyone that stands too close or gets too funny around you. Especially that one friend of yours who’s way too comfortable with you. He’ll watch from a distance until his patience is entirely over, and then immediately make his way to you, arm glued to your waist before he’s even stopped walking, a fake ass smile on his face as he says something like “what are you two talking about?” or “what’s up, honeycomb?”. Or, to that friend he’s seen more times than he’d like, “I’m sorry, have we met before?”. He’ll even add an “Are you sure? I think I would remember you if we did” when he’s feeling extra spicy.

And still Geto Suguru’s hands are aching for you, for how touch starved he is. And he’s still fidgeting with them the moment he lays eyes on you.

Then, after far too many weeks of suffering - and finally telling his bestie about his crush - he’ll whine to Gojo about being so desperate for anything from you. About how glad he would be if he could at least hold your hand or have just one little touch from you. And he’s still mid mental breakdown speech when Gojo interrupts him with a

“Bro, are you serious right now?”

And when he doesn’t understand Gojo’s question, the white-haired man has to tell him all that he's been watching for the past few months.

“You two just haven’t fucked at this point. Or have. But I really don’t wanna know.” Gojo shudders at the thought. “What I’m saying is, we all thought it was cute and funny in the beginning, but now it’s becoming almost painful to watch. Shoko and I are nearly giving up our bet. Nanami’s considering moving to the countryside sooner.”

And the ridiculous look that Geto has on his face, speechless, mouth dropped to a perfect shocked “O” after hearing it all, is priceless. Gojo is dying to pull out his phone and take a picture of him, but he’s not in the mood to get beat up at the moment (he got his hair cut today, ok?).

But Shoko, being the icon she is and having just entered the room after hearing her name, captures the moment perfectly, making the picture their groupchat’s icon right away.

Geto’s mostly silent for the rest of the day, processing the information. It was all so simple, so natural to be that close to you that he didn’t realize he was already all over you. He’s stunned. At himself, mostly, more than the situation as a whole. How did he not notice? Geto Suguru, who’s always so aware of himself, his every thought and every move (no wonder everyone thinks he’s so gracious, even when he’s sitting with his legs spread open).

He starts getting anxious that night soon after going to bed. What if he had gone too far? Invaded your personal space? What if you were secretly hating it, disgusted and uncomfortable, but couldn’t find a way out of this situation. He knows you can defend yourself damn well, but if that had messed you up mentally, things aren’t as easy and simple as kicking him in the balls.

But then you would’ve made something at this point, right? Avoid him and distance yourself. Plus, you’re close friends with Gojo as well, you would’ve said something or asked him for help if that was the case.

Also, Gojo may be stupid, but he’s not that stupid. And he’s got good eyes. He knows you well. If he says you like him too, the chances of that not being true are very low.

That calms him down… A little.

He decides that he’s got to think of something. Do something. If not ask you out, at least talk to you. Make things clear. And apologize if he has to.

And then he, once again, unconsciously slips into daydreaming about a scenario where luck is on his side, and instead of laying down on his own to go to sleep as he is right now, he’ll be able to fall asleep with his arms practically tied around you, his nose shoved against your head so he can intoxicate himself with that delicious smell of your shampoo. He thinks falling asleep due to low oxygen because of doing so is a great way to fall asleep.

As you become significant others, he’s still doing all that he used to do (and much more, of course), but in a deeper way.

He’ll lay his head on your shoulder and loop his arm around yours. He’ll fully hold your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand is firm against your hip, holding you close to him. When he pulls you close as you’re standing and he’s sitting, he’ll loop his arms around your leg and hold your thigh, or both your thighs, as he rests his head on your side. Or he might pull you to his lap, nonchalantly. Who knows?

Those bear hugs? Expect loads of them. Surprise or not. And now he’s also picking you up and showering you with kisses. He falls in love even harder when you get all giddy when he spins you around.

And his favorite, the arm around your waist as you two stand there. Now both his arms are around you, tighter than ever, obviously possessive even though he (again) doesn’t realize how possessive he looks when he does that. Especially when he’s leaning against something and his leg is slipping between yours, your hips tight against him, and he’s resting his chin on you (he doesn’t know why, but this one is heaven to him).

He’s so about touching you and feeling you, that when you’re in bed together, he doesn’t see the point of using something else to tie you up when he can just hold you in a position himself. He’ll use his own body and weight to keep you down, or, if he can’t hold you as he’d like (he only has two hands, unfortunately) he’ll command that you hold yourself in place so can use his hands to hold wherever else he’s got his mind on. You obey, obviously, mischievous or desperate, depending on how fucked up you already are at that point.

Aftercare? Showering you (he’ll clean you up in bed if your legs are too wobbly) and massaging your whole body, of course. He’ll kiss your body, following his hands, as he goes on, whispering sweet nothings. Then, he’ll pull you against his chest, wrapping both arms around you, so you can fall asleep listening to the always-calm, steady thud of his heartbeat. You’re both still naked, skin on skin, to be able to be as close to each other as humanly possible. He’s the happiest man on Earth.

He’s not shy of kissing you in public, either. From a peck to an open mouthed kiss, he’ll do it all. You’re the one growing red all over, actually. Having to push against his chest so he’ll pull away, especially when he’s going at it for too long.

“Oh, let them watch.” he murmurs as you point that everyone’s looking, your eyes darting everywhere in embarrassment “They’re either happy for us or straight up jealous” He says with those beautiful eyes of his staring so deeply into yours that you swear he can see your soul. “I’ve got the prettiest little thing there is anyway. All mine.” He holds your chin and kisses you one last time. He’s a teaser, but he respects it every time you ask him to stop.

Another thing he’s come to love is having you brush his hair, whether it’s in the morning or after naptime. Or at some random moment, just because he wants to feel you gently brushing it. And his favorite is after washing his hair. He’ll grab his hair products and comb and rush to you, closing his eyes as you gently untangle his hair and the delicate, flowery smell of the products fill the room. You always end it with an “all done, baby!” and a kiss to his forehead, and he thanks you looking up at you with loving eyes, following with a kiss on your lips. He wouldn’t trade moments like this for nothing in the world.

He loves you. And he loves loving you. And he adores holding you however it is.And even after all this time, his hands still itch, still tingle, still burn, and still get all fidgety every time he looks across the room and his eyes find you.

P.S.: Might write a part 2 of this for more characters once I get more comfortable with writing them, like Ino, Choso and Higuruma!

Divider by @uzmacchiato

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eeriesilkworm · 14 hours ago

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Season 2 Mike definitely saw Max as a love rival for Will

Another Byler from Mike Wheeler's POV analysis—(Unrequited love trope edition).

Walk with me.

Sometimes I think about how when the party went trick-or-treating Mike specifically told Will that he, "should have checked with him" first before letting Max join them.

It's just a very peculiar moment. Why Will?

Even Will was confused by this, lol.

We know that Mike doesn't like Max in season 2 (for reasons we'll look into more), but why did he make this Will's problem/ responsibility? Especially after only knowing of her existence for 2 days at this point.

He wasn't angry at Lucas or Dustin—or at least, he didn't expect them to come to him for permission—otherwise he would have said something to them, too.

It was Will who he felt betrayed by and upset with.

Heck, go ahead and take a second look at the first screenshot provided above.

Does Mike look angry to you?

No—he looks forlorn.

Let me break it down for you:

I'll start by saying when the party learned of MADMAX the screename, they were all equally interested in knowing who it was.

But when Max is introduced to us as a character (and revealed to be a girl), we get markedly different reactions between the boys.

In the first frame, they have no idea who she is or what her name is. All they see is a new girl. (Played by Sadie Sink mind you, who is very pretty).

Look at Mike's face: he already looks sulky.

The second frame is after they learn her name is Max. Once again, all four boys show some level of interest, but Mike remains sulky.

Then we have the recess scene in which the boys are watching Max, which is very interesting.

Consider the blocking and body language in this frame:

Look at Will here: he's just as interested in Max as Lucas and Dustin are (even if his interest is not based on attraction). In fact, he's the main focus of this frame for some reason.

Mike is the only one who hangs back, and his body language is completely different from the other three (hands in pockets, meaning he is distanced). He has no interest whatsoever and his facial expression appears agitated.

Mike feels like the odd one out here.

Will fits in.

When they "lose the target" Will is the one who spots her and reinitiates the "watching." Once again, Will is the main focus of this shot and even seems to be showing the most interest; his expression is bright and engaged.

He runs with Lucas and Dustin to the wastebin while Mike trails behind begrudgingly, not wanting to be left behind.

It begs the question: why is Will the focal point among the four boys in a scene about looking at a girl, if he was never intended to be a love interest?

I argue it's because we're seeing this interaction from a very specific perspective—the perspective of Mike Wheeler, who is standing back and observing.

It's also worth noting that Will's change in demeanor and energy here is extremely apparent.

He is noticeably withdrawn and low in spirits this season due to his PTSD (both literal and metaphorical if you count the MF as a metaphor for trauma).

And Mike notices. He’s the one who points out that Will had been "quiet today"—a detail the others miss because they don’t watch Will the way he does.

Notice that Will is disengaged during the science lesson (before Max arrives), while the other three are nerding out. Will previously participated in the science fair—it typically interests him—but his mood is very low.

Then compare that with his immediate engagement when Max walks into the classroom, and the level of interest he showed during recess. Mike would certainly observe this shift, paying as much attention to Will as he does.

In fact, once the distraction of Max has passed and the principal comes to collect him, Will's body language retreats again; shoulders hunched, eyes downcast.

What conclusion do you think Mike would come to based off these few short interactions?

(And these are the only interactions Mike sees between Will and Max before trick-or-treating together the next day. Mike hasn't even spoken to her yet).

From Will's perspective, this girl is just a novelty: a light-hearted distraction from everything else going on, offering a spot of normalcy.

But from Mike's perspective, this is a pretty new girl showing up out of nowhere and immediately raising Will's spirits: something he felt like he failed to do.

And so it brings us to the trick-or-treating scene, in which Will (apparently) joins Dustin and Lucas in their enthusiasm for Max joining the party, while Mike hangs back and then begrudgingly follows, not wanting to be left behind.

Are we noticing the pattern?

Then we have Mike's confrontation with Will (this happens after Will is seen filming Max, btw). He tells Will he should have checked with him about Max joining them and that Max is, "ruining the best night of the year."

Uh... what? What did she do?

He then storms off: inentionally leaving Will behind this time.

(He wants him to know how that feels).

Following this interaction, Will has a big scare with the MF—and of course, it’s Mike who finds him first. Despite his mood, Mike is still attentive and protective.

Mike behaves possessively when he finds Will, not wanting the others to get involved. He takes Will “home” (his home) so they can be alone.

What follows is a scene that, put simply, is about reciprocation.

Interestingly, Mike’s attitude toward Max shifts after this scene with Will—he doesn’t have anything to say about Max joining the party in the AV room to look at Dustin’s pollywog.

This is the girl who apparently ruined Halloween.

You’d think he’d still be unhappy to see her.

But after that conversation with Will in his basement, Mike feels more secure and reassured about the state of their relationship.

He's no longer jealous.

So now, it's apparently fine for Max to be in the party.

Well, that changes again.

The next notable interaction is after Mike realises the pollywog is from the UD. Mike immediately goes into protective mode. It’s not Will who storms into the classroom to grab the trap—it’s Mike.

It’s also (presumably) Mike who locks Max outside of the AV room when they discuss this, yelling at her that she can’t come inside.

When she opens the door anyway, the pollywog escapes—and (of course) Mike blames her. No one else points fingers.

Now, the boys were hesitant to reveal any information about the UD for obvious reasons, but here we see the recurring theme in the Mike/Will/Max triangle: Mike’s protectiveness (and slight possessiveness) of Will.

So, a recap of Mike’s perspective so far:

First gripe: You’re hogging Will’s attention (possessive) Second gripe: You’ve compromised Will’s safety (protective)

Then we finally have the confrontation between Mike and Max:

It literally starts with Mike telling Max to leave because she's in the boys' room. (Similar to his "boys only" comment in season 3).

Let's not get it twisted: When Max finally asks Mike why he's been treating her the way he has been, he deflects.

Mike, who always has a ready opinion and is not afraid of confrontation, is not comfortable sharing the real reason why.

It’s commonly believed that Mike simply didn’t like Max because her presence reminded him of El’s absence—and I see it—but after a closer look, I no longer agree.

Firstly, I don’t think it’s fair to assume that Max would remind Mike of El (or rub salt in the wound of her absence) just because they’re both girls. Max and El couldn’t be more different—physically or otherwise—and that distinction feels intentional.

Mike would never compare Max to El, because to him, El is incomparable—a superhero who saved his (and Will’s) life.

Also, in Mike’s mind, El is still in the party—he lists her name off with the other members.

Max wouldn’t be a replacement.

He literally just stated that she would be an addition.

Secondly, Mike never actually makes this connection himself. He simply offhandedly mentions El when he’s trying to convince Max she’s not needed.

So why does he want her to stay away?

And when El is finally introduced (both through conversation and literally) to this dynamic, what happens?

Mike and Max begin to get along.

They share a smile.

If Mike’s issue with Max had anything to do with El, the scene wouldn’t have played out this way.

It’s classic misdirection.

The misdirection is so obvious they lean into it—even having El herself misinterpret Mike and Max’s relationship, becoming jealous.

She mistakenly assumes Mike is interested in Max, just like Mike mistakenly assumed Will was interested in her, too.

They’re giving the audience a warped perspective, urging us to look behind the curtain.

Mike’s behaviour towards Max fits perfectly into Byler’s shared arc in Season 2: Mike is attentive, protective, and possessive over Will, while Will—consumed by the MF—can’t fully reciprocate that attention.

The “crazy together” scene is the only time Mike receives the same energy back from Will the entire season.

I feel like people forget that when they talk about how cute Season 2 was for Byler. Cute from Will’s perspective, maybe (supernatural plot aside)—but for Mike?

We get multiple shots of Mike staring at Will or noticing his absence (Mike staring at Will’s empty desk being the most obvious example).

That’s called pining.

Will does not invite Mike to his house or show up uninvited—Mike does that. Will does not hold Mike’s hand—Mike does that. Will does not watch Mike closely or check in on him constantly—Mike does that. Will does not become possessive of Mike’s attention—Mike does that.

In fact, they play into this unreciprocated affection trope pretty blatantly—when Mike bares his heart to Will, tearfully recounting their first meeting, Will quite literally cannot respond because he’s possessed—even if he wants to.

Not to mention—Mike’s recount of their first meeting is also (thematically) about reciprocation:

“I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes. You said yes.”

Mike puts emphasis on the fact that Will said yes: the fact that Will reciprocated his feelings.

That is what he wants.

He wants validation that Will feels the same.

That Will won't leave him behind.

And what happens at the end of Season 2?

From a Byler perspective, this season is about Mike’s (seemingly) unrequited love for Will—and it directly influences Mike’s (very different) behaviour in Season 3.

So yeah.

Mike didn’t like Max because he was jealous, and coping with feelings for Will he feared were one-sided—and in his mind that was confirmed as true.

Why wouldn’t he be relieved to see El at the snowball dance?

Why wouldn’t he kiss her?

Why wouldn’t he immediately start dating her and pushing Will away?

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #byler analysis #byler theory #byler season 2 #stranger things analysis #stranger things #mike wheeler pov #mike wheeler is in love with will byers #should i make this a series?

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aimasup · 15 hours ago

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you know what no I'm not done I'm not done raving about the 2025 Lilo and Stitch like a lunatic. Have to get it outta my system I wanna be a BITCH today

This is coming from someone who is very biased towards the original movie and decided to do their first hate-pirate watch just so they knew exactly what they would be raving about. So it's not an analysis really. If you like the 2025 movie then I'm happy for you, buuuut maybe don't read this 👉👈

This is not meant to discourage anyone from watching the movie, this is just me ranting and nitpicking lol. If you are interested do watch it (PIRATED) and form your own opinion!

Spoiler warning, long post

Pleakley

Hey let's talk about the changes made to Pleakley's character other than 'no dresses'

Live action: Here's the thing. They seem to understand that an inseperable part of Pleakley's character is his love for fashion. So to work around the dress ban, they decided to give him the love for human fashion from the very start. He first shows up in front of the councilwoman in a cowboy outfit. Every time his human disguise is out, he is always wearing something different (flowery shirts and hats, a mini concert backpack, etc).

But to me this further simplifies an already comedic side character. He can't even have the progression from 'mosquitoes are cool' to 'fashion is cool', or be redeemed in his view of humans from fascinating specimens to thinking feeling beings!! He has nowhere to go as a character because they moved his end point to the starting point, erasing the road!!!

By taking away his discovery of his love for fashion, he remains the same throughout the whole movie with only half the competence of his animated counterpart so he can't even be a funny punching bag character. Idk how else to explain it

Og: A smartass dripping with condescension but also scientific fascination, his disrespect to the councilwoman comes from his confidence

Live action: His disrespect to the councilwoman comes from a lack of understanding of boundaries, he constantly gets so excited he asks to hug her.

Live action: Actually he's oddly enthusiastic in this movie??? He is HYPED to be teamed up with Jumba and clings to him on first sight, he is HYPED to go to Earth and stay on Earth. He has a bit of a nervous golden retriever energy. They did keep him high-strung about the mission, which is kind of entertaining to watch when played off of Jumba.

Live action: Speaking of Jumba, they really committed! People are saying Jumba turned on Pleakley and that Jumba was the twist villain. Not true! Pleakley turns on Jumba and Jumba was always a whiny heartless ass. The councilwoman orders him to arrest Jumba after they fail and Pleakley moves to do so with a shrug. Go off buddy cops who hate each other give us nothing

To read me bitch more about Jumba, it's all here in this post, Nani is also talked about a ton in it lmao

Lilo

(No hate to the live action actor, she's delightful)

Og: In hula, she has a violent outburst in response to an insensitive comment.

Live action: In hula, she gets actively shoved onstage. I am neutral about this tbh

Live action: Lilo asking 'we're a broken family, aren't we?' is replaced by 'Am I...bad?' for Nani to comfort her. watch the Sims negative relationship points appear above my head in real time

Live action: Most of her scenes are now dedicated to being chaotic cute or encouraging Nani. The scene in her bedroom where we learn about how her parents died is dedicated to Lilo talking about Nani's backstory I am not joking

Live action: does not discuss how their parents' death affect Lilo. Lilo is a side character and a troublemaker in her own movie. Watching her gas up this college plotline because the script thinks Lilo should be more understanding of Nani is so awkward

Og: About family, Lilo says 'What happened to yours? Do you dream about them? I know that's why you wreck things. And push me.'

Live action: Lilo says 'Do you have a family?' and Stitch says 'No.' and Lilo says 'that's okay, you can be a part of ours 😊'

It's a fine change I think, all the same it shows Lilo's emotional intelligence, but the vibe is off. I can't place it

Og: Lilo tries to explain Stitch's behaviour all the time: 'He needs desserts!' 'It's past his bedtime!' 'He's an orphan and we adopted him!' 'Be careful of the little angel!' The angel I wished for, Lilo doesn't say, he has to be the one I wished for!

During the Elvis Presley beach scene in the og Lilo cries out for the spectators to stop crowding him!!! and she is correct, the camera flashes overwhelm Stitch and he lashes out again!!!

Live action: Lilo sticks up for Stitch but it's slightly different, she says 'He's just exploring his new home!' 'He's just curious!' as he's sticking forks in the blender - it feels more like she's oblivious to just how destructive his behaviour is and excusing it. She's still a really sweet brave child but her naivety is played up on purpose here to frusrate Nani even more! She only tries to seriously get on Stitch about good behaviour when everyone around keeps telling her to control her dog - Stitch is an escaped convict, he's not actually a dog does the 2025 movie know that it's important to me that they know that

Og: Lilo is so defensive of Stitch because she sees herself in him (and also he's just a magic talking animal to her). Not in the way that the 2025 movie thinks, that she's getting a taste of her own medicine (she's 6, why do you want a grieving 6 year old to learn a Cat in the Hat lesson, Lilo ALREADY KNOWS CONSEQUENCES) but in that she believes Stitch is capable of more than just a destroying beast!!!

Live action: But in the 2025 movie she sees Stitch as top tier playmate material that needs to be controlled sometimes??

Nani

Live action: Listen she still loves Lilo. Tickle fights and concern for her and laughing at her antics, there is effort to show they care, she cares.

Og: When Lilo says 'I like you better as a sister than a mom' it's sad because that's the role Nani is in now. Nani doesn't know what to say, she wants to be a sister too!!

Live action: When Lilo says 'I like you better as a sister than a mom', Nani says 'Ouch.' in like a jokey way and I don't know what to make of that.

Live action: The movie gives her Fiona Gallagher levels of stress when they added two whole characters who live NEXT DOOR that have a close bond with Lilo and know their situation super well. She is not Tiana, why are we doing this (I've never watched Shameless I just know the entire plot through TikTok osmosis 😔)

Horror just flashed before me at the thought of a Princess and the Frog live action remake in the future

Live action: They added a wise playful grandma and social worker to constantly explain the plot to Nani and the audience ughhh

The grandma tells Nani she is smart and deserves college. The grandma tells her to make up with her sister after they fight. Social worker doesn't sit Lilo and Nani down to counsel their situation and set goals, she only sits Nani down. The grandma takes Lilo to get a pet behind Nani's back and explains what pets are for to Nani. The grandma says 'hey we're ohana too' and then later we have a scene where Nani says Ohana isn't realistic.

The grandma and the social worker keep telling Nani she's so smart and selfless and she works so hard, after the movie shows that Nani is smart and selfless and works so hard. She works so hard and is struggling so much that she misses Lilo's hula show and it's sad for everyone.

Basically they gave away Nani's sillier side, understanding and patience of Lilo, and time spent with her sister that isn't scolding, to the grandma. Leaving Nani with just the tragedy

They also do a reoccurring thing with Nani struggling to start her car until the end? I don't know what that's about. I think it's symbolic for her life or something. someone tell me why they gave her car troubles on top of college troubles

Nani is a mouthpiece for the movie too. The scene where Lilo tries to use Ohana to stop Stitch from being sent away, Nani interrupts her and rants at her about how unrealistic Ohana is now, and Stitch doesn't bat an eye, still a background nuisance. Huh

How does one fuck up the record player joke I hear you ask

One morning, Lilo places a record in front of Nani and demonstrates Stitch's biopunk capabilities, absurdly transforming him into a flesh gramophone.

Og: half the punchline is Nani's utter baffled reaction at madness. This is her life now and she's more certain than ever the dog is radioactive

Live action: Nani is so busy she barely acknowledges it. Lilo has to explain why this is cool actually, falling on deaf ears as Nani is more anxiously focused on being late and having to bring Lilo along to her job applications.

Again, along with the missed hula show, they want to show how stressed Nani is to the point where she CAN'T be in Lilo's life, that Lilo is a distraction, and that's why the separation is for the best. The HOOPS this movie is jumping through mate

If you want to read more about what I've said about og Nani, it's in here

Councilwoman alien

This is the figurehead of the alien plot that they kept

Live action: Why is she talking so fast. Why are all the alien scenes going by so fast. The beginning, from Stitch's courtroom meeting to Jumba and Pleakley being sent after him, takes like less than 10 minutes in the new one.

Og: Councilwoman is wise enough to find loopholes in her strict rules in the name of ethics, she's a grumpy governor whose every move is methodical and speaks sharply to get things done.

Live action: they only halfway did that here?? At the end Cobra didn't even make up the mosquito conspiracy here, he just tells the councilwoman 'Hey. Trust me. I won't tell the government about this. 🥺'. and the councilwoman is like 'okay sure Stitch can stay.'

Stitch

Live action: A full-on dog, a puppy, a goofy creature that gets guilt halfway through instead of also being motivated by a desire for companionship

Live action: In the surfing scene, Stitch sees a dog surfing and wants to mimic it. That's it, that's why he gets on the water

Live action: New home adjustment scene, Stitch does not falter at Lilo using Ohana to stop Nani sending him away.

Here's Stitch's progress in the original film:

Destroy everything, evade the cops, find a city where I can kill everything rawr

Gets humbled by earth

Gets humbled by Lilo just hanging out

Gets humbled by Jumba and Pleakley on his ass

Hears Ohana just as he's about to get kicked out, sparking something in him

Lilo calms him down then tells him to redirect his energy towards something constructive. He makes a model of San Francisco to terrorize but it's a start

There's no memories for him to visit in the night, no other purpose than to destroy, so he starts looking through books to find it

He plays along with Lilo teaching him to play music, albeit chaotically, but he's such a natural tornado that he just brings destruction everywhere he goes. And now he's in an environment where destroying is both purposeless and not even fun, and he questions everything again

Getting humbled by surfing, placed into a situation with his natural enemy element (water) where he doesn't have the advantage. Seeing how much fun Lilo and her sister (+ future brother-in-law) are having, he finds himself yearning again, what intelligent creature doesn't? He willingly returns to water, he's scared but he's learning that water can be fun, he HUGS NANI'S LEG AND NANI FINDS HIM BRIEFLY ENDEARING

He breaks everything again, not even on purpose, the more he learns about Lilo he feels like he should remove himself from the picture, he's lost again and again. Aka consequences, he is forced again and again to grapple with consequences

He reveals himself as an alien to Lilo, he's honest on purpose because he knows he fucked up and she deserves to know the truth

During his arrest he decides to motivate Nani with Ohana again, because he's not leaving this time without them. And he gets them to save Lilo, then he ends the movie as ohana who helps with the chores

Stitch's progress in the live action: he just feels bad when Jumba calls him out and gets protective of Lilo out of nowhere!! The bond is them causing chaos together which is just more stress for Nani???

Live action: He willingly gives himself up for capture. Touching and noble, but they've missed out on yet another opportunity for Nani warm up to him.

When they make the surfing scene just surfing and the capture scene just capture, there's no reason for Nani to save Stitch from drowning the end of the movie other than an obligation to her sister and 'Ohana'! Again, it feels like obligation!!! And for plot reasons, to give Nani the selfless spotlight yet again and throw in a fakeout death scene for Stitch.

Live action: He doesn't shove Lilo like a petulant bully, his chaos feels more like playtime. It changes things when the 2025 movie makes him tear up the house with a wide-eyed smile on his face as opposed to the original where he's snarling and hissing the whole time. They're both carrying out their purpose to destroy everything they see but again. The vibes are off

He's not just a cute freak!! He's SOMETHING THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO EXIST WHO LEARNS TO LOVE AND HAS A CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE THROUGH THE GRACE OF THE PEOPLE AROUND HIM!!! Agahgahhh

Extra:

The shot of the Hawaiian flag during a monologue near the ending? Cool I guess. I'm Malaysian, I recognise an intentional flag camera shot when I see one 🫵

CapriSun placement is also very unexpected and kind of funny. They did it like twice lmao. 'With the power of CapriSun you too can beat up Jumba in your own home!'

A lot of the 2025 movie removes if not changed the decisions their characters make that would affect the plot. It rearranges scenes without any consideration of why those scenes were there in the first place. And the scenes from the og that aren't totally altered go by so quickly with a dozen jokes per second, like the movie wants to move on and get to the new stuff they added.

Aaaah I think that's everything

Gonna go now

#my post #personal stuff #pleakley #jumba jookiba #nani pelekai #lilo and stitch #lilo and stitch 2025 #lilo and stitch live action #lilo pelekai

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wangxianficfinder · 2 days ago

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Fic Finder

June 1st

~*~

1. Hi! Thank you in advance! I am unsure if this is how i ask for help in finding a missing fanfic, but i need to try and i hope you can help me. I am desperate. This is what i remember:

*lan zhan is the emperor and there is no cultivation

*wei ying was a warrior? A general? I think? And i know he was gravely injured/disfigured? to the point he couldn't hold a sword anymore-something was wring with his hand i dont remember what, which was a shame because he was a very good soilder

*he was arranged to join the emperor's harem which he did

*he sent all nice things or rewards? he got from the palace back to yiling to the dafan wen's to ensure they could survive

*there is a scene where wei ying misses a-yuan and lan zhan arranges for them to leave the palace and go to yiling

*in yiling lan zhan gives wei ying a branch of plum?cherry? peach? Blossoms and puts it in his hair? I think?

• they stay the night or two in yiling and i distinctly remember wei ying feeding pastries to a-yuan who never had such good food

*they have to leave yiling and wei ying was devastated to have to leave a-yuan behind thoigh lan zhan promised to arrange something to ensure a-yuan can come to the palace

*the fanfic was on AO3 and i think it was complete????

*i know there was a conspiracy of some sort??? but i do not remember what was going on. @wangxian4evermdzs

FOUND! A Blade By Your Side by athena_crikey (E, 77k, WangXian, Historical, Royalty, Forced Marriage, Bodyguard, court intrigue, falling in love with the person you’re married to, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Politics, Drama, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Slow Burn)

NOT FOUND! The Legend of Moonflower by JJSIN2020 (E, 135k, WangXian, 3Zun, Emperor LWJ, lwj FUCKS, he has a whole harem of male omegas so of course he does, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Beta LXC, Omega JC, Omega XY, Omega XXC, omega SS, Omega OYZZ, Beta NHS, Mpreg, Wolves, Angst with a Happy Ending, Imperial China, Character Death, Fighting)

~*~

2. Hi! I'm looking for 2 fics, which both I totally forgot the title and have little of memory of the plots. A) First fic is which wwx was resurrected but not by mxy but a girl from the brothel(?) Or something like that then the girl have a little bro and sis, they ran away from the place while they burned it to the ground, and at the end when wwx will tell the lil bro about the truth(sis is just a babie), but the bro already knew that wwx is not his old sis. Thanks! will follow the next fic.

B) Hi! This is the continuation on the 1st part because of the word limit I need to do this. 2nd fic is where wangxian found a 4 eggs (not the "tame" titled one since that egg is only the xuanwu) this fic each egg represents the Chinese mythical creatures which are: the dragon, the white tiger, the black tortoise, the Vermillion bird. Which represents the 4 directions. I forgot the other plots of the fic but I surely remember this babies. Thanks in advance for the help admins! @pilisiti

2A)

FOUND! incantations and blood by orphan_account (T, 38k, WangXian, XuanLi, LingYi, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, wwx gets a body early, non-con tag is for og characters back story, Reincarnation, Good Uncle LQR, Bad Parents JFM and YZY, Doctor WWX, OP WWX, Genius WWX, No Smut, Child Abuse, Murder, PTSD, NHS & WWX Friendship, Scheming NHS, Scheming WWX, Medical Inaccuracies, Canon Divergence, fast burn, Smart WWX, Mr Queen inspired, TW: rape/non con, Exchanging Letters)

2B)

FOUND! My Immortal by Jaywalker_Holmes (M, 44k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage Sex)

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3. Hi 👋 am looking for a fic where wangxian from the drama get together and Wei ying returned to cloud recess with lan Zhan. When they decide to marry LAN zhan uncle doesn’t approve so they go to lotus pier to get jiang Chen to write a marriage proposal on Wei ying behave. Wangxian stays a lutos pier for a couple of days, then Jin ling ask Wei ying for help on a night hunt. @fanficlover-novels

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4. Can you please post to see if anyone on your blog knows of this fic? I’ve been interested in reading it since they posted on Reddit and no one knows it. @liadantaru (reddit post: "I'm sorry for cluttering the sub with this fic post, will delete if not allowed, but this keeps me up at night. Months ago I read a hilarious fic about a AU in which cultivators use a magic sound transferring bell to spy on Hanguang-Jun on his hunt for the Yiling Laozu and misunderstand what's happening. It wasn't nsfw, nothing was described just dialogue of WWX yelling nonsense that makes it sound like he's getting murdered. It was peak comedy, one of the funniest things I've ever read, and I want to share it with a friend but I can't find it anywhere. I couldn't save it because I don't have a account, and I didn't save the browser either because I was overconfident in my searching abilities 🤦‍♂️ Here are more details about the fic: WWX was never part of the cultivation world, no relationships with the Jiangs, he's always been the scary big bad Yiling Laozu aka boogeyman of the Burial Mounds. One fine day Xue Yang did Xue Yang things and everyone blamed the "YLLZ' and decided it's time to finally put a end to his "reign of terror". The plan was to send their strongest cultivators and armies but LWJ insisted he goes alone and after some discussion they accepted his proposal because LWJ is their strongest fighter who night hunts there often and is the only one who isn't shaking in fear when YLLZ is mentioned." The great Hanguang-Jun definitely has a plan!"

This raised Lan Xichen's stress to abnormal levels and he stopped smiling. Jiggy, being a good friend, fished a magic bell from the Jin treasure room. LXC convinced LWJ that the bell is just protection against the evil spirits. But the bell actually contained a hidden talisman connected to a bigger bell in the Jin main hall, the bell was a sound transferring item. The plan was to spy on LWJ to make sure he's safe and prevent LXC dying from worry and walking back and forth.

Nie Huaisang overheard and couldn't keep his mouth shut, the word spread and everyone gathered in the main hall to speculate about Hanguang-Juns secret plan to defeat the YLLZ. Jiggy was having a customer service smile but on the inside he was angry about having to please all these clan leaders and heirs for diplomatic reasons and clan leader Jin Zixuan wasn't helping.

It goes as expected. They hear YLLZ yelling about being defeated, calling for help and making all sorts of noises. The story wasn't nsfw nothing was described it was just dialogue and classic roleplay nonsense that WWX yells during everydays. It had hilarious misunderstandings and comments, from people saying they didn't know LWJ could be so brutal to those who mocked YLLZ and celebrated the big victory. Only NHS and Jiggy realized what was going on, Jiggy tried to stop it, NHS was fanning himself harder than usual and hurt his wrist.

When other charactes realized what was actually going on, they all lost their shit in funniest ways.

The chapter ended with righteous cultivators concluding that WWX used demonic powers to control LWJs mind and uses him as a cauldron to increase his power.

Chapter 2.

Everyone is preparing for war and to save Hanguang-Jun, but Hanguang-Jun returns before they finish preparations. He is immediately examined, and admits to LXC that he and WWX are married and he hands over Xue Yang explaining he's the real villain not WWX. This throws the cultivation world into even bigger chaos and they demand YLLZ to show his face if his relationship with LWJ is true.

The rest of the chapter is WWX revealing himself to the cultivation world, people being afraid and judging his every move in humorous ways, some people simping for him, him and LWJ being joint at the hip and everyone being sus until, after spying and observing their dates, they conclude LWJ tamed YLLZ and the world is saved.)

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5. Hey I'm looking for a fanfiction where wei wuxian has back pain and has to sleep outside cloud recess, he has injuries on his back or something from madam Yu and it's during the cloud recess arc, I think I remember Juan Cheng and Jiang Yanli being protective of him

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6. Hi! I'm searching for this wangxian threadfic on twitter/x inspired by the k-drama lovely runner. It was about actor lwj seeing a script written by wwx and getting obsessed with it. I think they knew each other from high-school but im not sure of it. I only saw the first post so there isn't much I remember about it. I really hope someone can help. Thank you

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7. I've lost track of a fic and hoping you can help me find it! It's a post-canon, established wangxian fic about lwj working up the courage to be vulnerable and open about his sexual desires. Basically the first time they had sex, lwj topped, and then they never switched. It turns out wwx didn't know switching was a thing.

Hi, I'm ask #7 for the june 1st fic finder. Fledgling does seem interesting, however it is not the fic i am thinking of, which is from LWJ's point of view

NOT FOUND!🔒Fledgling by grimsgay (E, 2k, WangXian, Anal Fingering, First Time Bottoming, Overstimulation, Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Bottom LWJ)

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8. I am desperate to find this fic. i read this multi chapter fanfic a couple of weeks ago and i cant find it i don't remember all the details but i do remeber this:

It had at least around 18-20 chapters and upwards though i dont think it had more then 31-36? 38 at most

it is still ongoing and last updated should be in 2023-2025 i think?

it is on AO3 with the main pairing being wangxian it could have been time travel fix it though i am not 100% sure

near the end of the story of the chapters that were posted was a discussion conference happening at Lanlingjin i think? And the sects were all attending. Some heavy plot twists happen such as:

Wen Ruohan and Madam Lan being siblings which explains why he wanted to attack the Cloud recess after the Lan Clan imprisoned her and i think they ultimately poisoned her? though i could be wrong.

Wen Ruohan and the late sect leader Nie turned out to be lovers and Mingjue and Huasang are shocked. Wen ruohan says something like: for him i would burn again?? while explaining their relationship. Kind of something along those lines???

Mingjue bows to wen ruohan for some reason i think in acknowledgment i am not sure saying something like: to the man my father loved???

Other revelations come up but Sect leader Yao stands up confused and is saying things like: i was expecting a conference/discussion in war, not love confessions??Cutsleeve drama i think? Something regarding everything being homoerotic???? Melodramatic?? Saying how one of them was crying i think it was wei ying?? without being able to stop, these there had a reconciliation moment or something like that while pointing his hand at all of them. I am unsure but i know he said something like that.

Please help me i dont know how else to find this as i tried everything. @wangxian4evermdzs

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9. Thanks for everything you do! I'm looking for a fic: it's a modern au where wwx and lwj had some sort of pact or bet to get married if they weren't married by a certain age. lwj was going to call in the bet, but wwx started dating mianmian instead. The part I most remember is wwx showing up at lwj's birthday dinner to confess his feelings in front of lwj's family.

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10. Hi! I think I actually found this fic from this blog originally a year or so ago but lost it. It was a modern au where they work in an office and wwx gets sick and dies in his apartment alone. He wakes up three years later without realizing any time had passed, but he's unable to get into his apartment or find his wallet so he realizes something is up. I just remember lwj taking him out of the office after he showed up again and them having a buddy detective moment trying to figure out how hes back and why he woke up in someone elses clothes on the side of the road. It was in progress when I was reading it. Thank you !!

FOUND? A Ghost Story by furbyairride (E, 78k, WangXian, WIP, Major Character Death, Modern with Magic, Mentions of Major Character Death, Resurrection, (the character death is not permanent), grave desecration, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Self-Harm, (the gore/body horror/self-harm all take place in dreams but they are still graphic), Compulsory Heterosexuality, internalized kinkshaming, Consensual Non-Consent, Masturbation, Bondage, WWX is a Manic Pixie Dead Boy, (everybody thank user quwarichi for the addition of that last tag lol), Vomiting)

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11. Can you find a Wangxian fic where Wei Ying is a girl, she ran away from the Jiang sect because of being mistreated after Jiang Fengmian promised her safety when he picked her up from the street. She is jaded because of the experience. She ends up at the brothel where Meng Shi teaches her how to read play music, etc.—becomes her mentor. She eventually becomes a courtesan (different term) who sells her talents, not body. She hides Lan Wanji in her room and now has to marry him. She has a core. @pepperoni-janto

FOUND? Tumblr post by mausewolke

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12. Ok hi good day

There was this fic that wwx found a boy rather like him in looks department when he was living in the streets of Yilling. And then they decided to become twins and used cultivation to make themselves identical. I also remember them befriending lwj as kids and later on founding their own sect(they didn't join any sect as kids and grew up in the burial grounds). The twin was asexual but still they were in a triad relationship @raven-hale

FOUND? 🔒 Twin Patriarchs of Yiling by meyari (T, 98k, WangXian, LWJ/OMC, WWX & OMC, Child Neglect, Child Abuse, Child Abandonment, Homelessness, project give WWX a Twin, if you can’t grow one storebought is fine, what’s better than one smart street kid?, Two of course, Murder, War, Warning: WRH, Warning: JGS, Warning: JZn, project give JZX a new sect, and a husband who dotes on him, what’s better than one WWX?, Why two of course, LWJ is so very into it, child sexual abuse (discussion), JZn is a dick, JZn was abused but he’s still a dick, It should be noted that the discussion of child sexual abuse was triggering to at least on person, not explicit, but still triggering)

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13. Hi! I'm looking for a fic, I don't know if it was deleted or not but I figured I'd try anyway. Basically LWJ was hurt (he took the hit for JYL at Nightless City or maybe from punishment?) and WWX ended up going to CR for punishment and is told that LWJ died despite actually being in a (medical?) coma bc LXC was petty. When LWJ wakes up and reunites with WWX, he has a panic attack thinking he's hallucinating. In the end, they get together and LXC apologizes. Thanks for your help in advance!

FOUND? If I Could Go Back in Time by Runningbarefoot (M, 122k, WangXian, NieLan, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, YLLZ WWX, Eventual Happy Ending, The Twin Jade Brotherhood, Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Slow Burn)

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14. Hello! Sorry for how vague this’ll sound, but I’m looking for a fic where I believe Wei Ying and Nie Huaisang become sworn brothers, and Jiang Wanyin finds out and is angry/jealous. The scene I kind of remember is that the setting is at the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Ying, Wangji and Nie Huaisang were just walking around when Jiang Wanyin comes up at confronts Wei Ying about swearing brotherhood with Nie Huaisang. I don’t know if they swore brotherhood with anyone else, but I definitely do remember them at least swearing it with each other. Hope this is enough information :’) @stygianamulet

FOUND? 🔒 Without end by barisan (M, 69k, WangXian, Time Travel, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Depressed WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Yunmeng Jiang bashing, Sentient Resentful energy, Medical inaccuracies, Sentient Burial Mounds, JC Canon Characteristics, It takes some time but he'll get better, Protective Siblings, Venerated Triad: The Remix (WWX - NHS - WN), Soft WangXian, BAMF WWX, WWX may or may not respect the dead more than the living, Translation Available) Jiang Cheng yells at Wei Ying for arranging to swear brotherhood with Nie Huaisang while in Cloud Recesses

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15. A) Hi!! I'm looking for a fic, where it's like a modern au of lan zhan and wei ying. I can't remember a lot of details, but I do know at the beginning, they were in school and Lan Wangji was reading a book under his mom's umbrella and he was made fun of since the umbrella was girly but Wei Ying defended him, cause he found out it was Lan Zhan's dead mom's umbrella.

B) hi! I have a fic-finder request!! this is an old fic I read a long long time ago. Basically, it was a lantern festival or something in Caiyi, and Lan Sizhui (still a toddler at the time) accidentally runs into Xie Lian or Hua Cheng, and then Lan Wangji comes over to apologize. He recognizes Hua Cheng and Xie Lian as gods because there are statues of them everywhere. I'm pretty sure he leaves saying something like "You are lucky, for your beloved has returned. But mine cannot" it was really sad and very good, I really want to re-read it, but unfortunately, can't find it. :( @dudelez-doodles

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16. Trying to find a fic where cloud recesses arc (teen?) WWX was basically an orv constellation, but it wasn't a crossover? Features other cr arc characters and what I think was a Wen attack. Probably had a party system? I remember others could use his powers. Please tag me if anyone finds it! @werewolfin

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17. I'm looking for a fic during the sunshot campaign where lz starts being nice to wwx. Wwx ends up in lz's robes and lz uses qi to heat his tent. Multiple times wwx is left behind after a battle and has to walk back to camp and almost doesn't make it

I think lz had time traveled but Im not sure. It was from wwxs pov.

Thanks; @larakimbo

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18. Hi, there is this fic that I have been searching for a while. It is soulmates identifying mark AU, where the name of the soulmate appears 24 hours before the soulmate is meant to die. There is also a colour coding. Blue means saved and red means the one to die. When LZ first notices his mark, it was red. WY almost dies in a truck crash but is saved by LZ...whose life is then endangered. This should also have tags for omegaverse AU, Madam Yu bashing, good uncle Qiren, and maybe LXC critical. @littleapple666

FOUND? 和你见面 | Meeting with you by Lanwangjisnights (E, 29k, WIP, WangXian, BSSR/LY, Modern AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Dragon LWJ/Fox WWX, Fox Spirit WWX, Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, Knotting, Nesting, Good Uncle LQR, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Angst and Fluff and Smut, True Love, Soulmates, Communication, Reincarnation, everyone gets what they deserve - which means no JGS JGY WRH, Madam Yu is her own warning, Rated E bc of the smut)

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19. Hello! For the fic finder:

I read a fic a few years ago where someone does some spell wish thing wanting rid of the Yiling Laozu and all he did and time reversed to the early part of the Sunshot Campaign but WWX wasn't around. At first they're all excited that WWX isn't there because their memories of the future contained the Nightless City massacre and they'd forgotten all about how great a threat the Wen army and Core Crusher were.

But then they start to realize that all their prattle about their feats during the war were embellishments they told so often that they started to believe them. The reality of fighting the Wens without an army of corpses doing the frontline work is very different from their embellished memories of the war. And they all can't do anything but regret WWX's absence... @indelibleme

NOT FOUND! The Way It Wasn’t by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

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20. Hello! I´m looking for a fic that I read a long time ago with a historial setting where WWX was trained to be the wife of someone important in ranks in a boarding school among other people. The tricky part is that I don´t remember if he was a omega or not, but he had to learn all the manners of a future wife and he had a friend there, don´t remember if it was Mian Mian of NHS.

The only part that I crearly remember is that LXC came to this "boarding school" to select a wife for his brother and there was a music demostration where WWX played the flute and he was selected bc he was different than the others (more daring in meeting his eyes.)

FOUND? Rattling our cages by danegen (E, 69k, WangXian, A/B/O, but like polite, Slow Burn, Pining while fucking, so much hair combing, wwx has a vagina, POV WWX, no yin iron or wars or plot really, Canon Era, spiders–see the notes, Spanish Translation Available)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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icantbelieveitsnotbutler · 2 days ago

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How Tight is Sebastian's Collar?

When Ciel "breached" the contract by briefly giving up on revenge, the contract didn't automatically end. In fact, there was no indication that a breach had even occurred until Sebastian brought it up. If the contract doesn't automatically enforce its terms, does Ciel have to be aware that Sebastian is violating a rule and explicitly accuse him in order for the terms to be enforced?

Manga spoilers.

Despite Ciel's efforts to make them watertight, none of the contract terms are as straightforward as they might seem. The first rule, to not lie to Ciel, is immediately complicated by what Sebastian says after:

Does this mean that the contract doesn't automatically filter or check everything Sebastian says and that Ciel has to do something to enforce the rule? Does Ciel have to expose the contract mark and explicitly tell him to not lie every time he asks a question? Or is it enough to ask directly?

Maybe the contract does automatically detect/prevent lies and Sebastian's comment about the contract seal means either that as long as the contract mark is on Ciel, Sebastian won't be able to lie to him, or that Ciel will be able to sense if Sebastian is lying and then use the seal to either force the truth out of him or end the contract.

In the worst-case scenario, Sebastian's offer of three wishes in the contract scene was actually a lie and the terms and everything after are all lies. Only the initial condition (Ciel's soul in exchange for the power to take vengeance on those who caused the twin's month of suffering) was real. In that case, the answer to "how tight is Sebastian's collar?" is that it doesn't matter, because the collar isnt attached to a leash.

In the best-case scenario, the contract makes it so that Ciel would be aware if Sebastian lied to him or outright prevent him from lying, which means that Sebastian has never lied to anyone during the duration of their contract, at least up until the last time he told Ciel that he doesn't tell lies. This is because if he can't lie to Ciel, when he tells Ciel that he doesn't lie, with no qualifications, everything he has said before that is retroactively verified as not a lie.

So what was the point of limiting his required truthfulness to just Ciel? I think Toboso either decided to change the rule for plot reasons that have yet to be revealed, or the rule has always been that he can't lie to just Ciel, and he somehow managed to forget the qualification by the time they left the church.

Something to note is that this rule is not to lie, which is different from simply always telling the truth. A lie is not just false information: it must be deliberately false with the intent to deceive.

Things said to deceive are not lies, if they're technically true:

He can say things that he knows aren't true, as long as he makes sure that the other person knows he's joking/sarcastic.

He can say things that are factually wrong, as long as he believes what he's saying to be true. We see this when he tells Ciel that the dead can't be brought back to life, only to find out later that it's possible. Here's an instance where Ciel proves him wrong in a shorter time frame:

The other two rules also leave an uncomfortable amount of wiggle room for Sebastian:

The official manga translation of 絶対 (zettai) is "without question," but the word more literally means absolutely or unconditionally. Ciel ends up having to immediately add a corollary condition to this rule.

(I think "I need a break" could have been translated differently to better reflect what's happening in this scene. The verb form Ciel is using here is called the causative, which is translated as 'make' or 'let', depending on the context. It's obvious that he's only telling Sebastian to let him rest for a bit, but Sebastian, because he's spiteful, chooses to interpret it as 'make me rest for a bit.')

They establish that Sebastian only has to follow orders when Ciel says "命令だ (meireida)," literally "It's an order" but frequently translated as "I command you." However, there are situations that raise questions about how strictly Sebastian must follow these orders.

In the circus arc, Ciel explicitly orders Sebastian to go to the heraldry office AND find out the identity of the circus troup's "father."

When Sebastian was unable to leave the circus grounds, he found another way to identify the man with the signet ring. He accomplished the essence of the order, but what if Ciel specifically wanted him to go to the heraldry office because it would be the most trustworthy source of information? And then when Ciel directly asks him, Sebastian basically lies by omission.

It all works out in the end, but if Sebastian were in a less cooperative mood, he could use this sort of wiggle room to cause trouble for his master. In the next arc, Sebastian seems to disobey a direct order, but it's just another limit of the translation.

At first I thought this was evidence that an order requires intent and that the contract could somehow sense that Ciel didn't actually want Sebastian to get up. However, in the original Japanese, Ciel orders Sebastian to 起きる (okiru), which means to get up OR to wake up. Therefore, Sebastian was technically obeying the order because he was already awake.

When Ciel says "It's an order," he usually exposes the contract seal on his eye, but not always. Sebastian said that the more conspicuous the location of the contract mark, the more power Ciel has access to. I'm assuming this means Sebastian is required to follow all orders, but orders made with the mark exposed allow or force him to draw on more of his power.

Ciel usually keeps the mark covered for lower-stakes commands:

In emergencies, he takes off the eyepatch when he wants Sebastian to put everything he has into following an order.

The name "Sebastian" also seems to be tied to the contract.

Ciel uses it to summon Sebastian, without the need to say "it's an order."

In Kelvin's manor, Sebastian uses it to summon Ciel back from his panicked state.

Outside of explicitly labeled orders, Sebastian does seem to try to be obedient to his master's commands, compelled by the contract or his personal or butler aesthetics.

However, this contract term can at times conflict with the third rule and with his aesthetics, in which case he goes with whatever option he wants while still technically following a rule.

He disobeys a command (albeit not a 命令だ command) in order to protect Ciel's life.

Agni convinces him that it's okay to disobey an order to preserve his master's physical or mental well-being. This isn't because of the contract rule about protecting Ciel, which seems to only cover life-threatening threats (Sebastian has allowed Ciel to be kidnapped and beaten). He disobeys Ciel's orders (again- not a 命令だ order) and "betrays" him in order to indulge his butler aesthetics.

Ciel's orders and wishes can also conflict with eachother. In Kelvin's manor, Ciel's order to burn the children goes against what Sebastian knows to be his wishes: to complete the case assigned to him by the queen. Sebastian doesn't follow the order until Ciel makes it absolute by saying "it's an order."

When Sebastian encounters the same conundrum in the green witch arc, Ciel doesn't say "it's an order," so Sebastian chooses to follow his wish (to finish the case), rather than his spoken order (to go home).

I fear that Sebastian's collar is loose enough that he could slip it off at any moment, but he chooses not to because he's having fun playing the butler game with Ciel. Alternatively, the collar is tight, but it doesn't matter because Ciel doesn't have the strength to control the leash.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive

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jessmalia · 1 day ago

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(Originally wrote all this in the tags but I ran out so I'm writing it in the reblog, I hope I'm not being imposing)

Yeah, I mean, Walker was a really good and interesting secondary antagonist, but what the Thunderbolts* writers failed to realize, is that you can't make him into a sympathetic protagonist (I specify sympathetic because writing him in an actual anti-hero role would work) without doing some serious redemptive work first. That shot of him standing with the bloody Captain America shield is by many fucking miles the single best shot in the entire MCU — it is such a powerful image rich with symbolism that I was thinking about it for weeks after I first saw it — but it is totally undermined by what Thunderbolts* did with him. In TFATWS, Walker was clearly supposed to be a case study in what would happen if a "perfect soldier" was picked to be Captain America instead of a "good man", like Steve. And the conclusion to that case study was that it could only end badly. All that talk Zemo did about how the desire to take the super serum is inherently tied to supremacist ideals and that whoever takes it will inevitably be going down the road of radicalisation (with a clear few exceptions) and then showing Walker doing just that, only for him to become an official Avenger before Sam in Thunderbolts*, is not only insulting and racist, but just bad storytelling. It shows a terrible understanding of what role the character has played previously and what role the character is suited to play in the future. I mean, are we forgetting about his dismissal of of Karli's cause? His perpetuating of the military's propaganda? His micro-aggressions against the Dora Milaje?

I mean, just in comparing him to the other Thunderbolts, he stands out like a sore fucking thumb! Bucky, Yelena and Ava are all victims of human experimentation and were used as weapons against their will. Bucky and Yelena were both mind-controlled and Ava is a disabled woman of color who was neglected by her country. Bob is a depressed addict who grew up with abusive alcoholic parents. Alexei is the only other one who wasn't an exploited victim, but he had his redemption in Black Widow when he helped take down the Red Room (and no, Walker giving up on his revenge to help Sam and Bucky in the final episode of TFATWS does not work as redemption in the same way, both cause it's a way smaller act, and cause it does not address any of his key underlying flaws, like the ones listed at the end of the previous paragraph). And in Thunderbolts*, Alexei is actively taking a father role in Yelena's life while Walker lost his son because he neglected him.

It's exemplified in the scene where Walker brags about his high school football days and Yelena brings up her own failed football team (I'm European so don't tell me I'm calling the sport by the wrong name) and calls his story pointless. John Walker is a white and athletic American man who grew up with a perfect life as the popular star football player of his "back-to-back-to-back champions" high school football team. A stark contrast to Steve Rogers, who was a short and skinny son of Irish immigrants in 1940s Brooklyn who no girl ever gave the time of day. The boy who had asthma and a million other health problems, but still never backed down from a fight even though he lost every single one of them, simply because he didn't like bullies. The perfect moment to compare the difference between these two men is, in my opinion, this one:

Bucky: Just cause you carry that shield, it doesn't mean you're Captain America. Walker: Look, I've done the work, okay? Bucky: You ever jump on top of a grenade? Walker: Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times. It's a thing I do with a helmet. It's a reinforced helmet. It's a long story, but any–

John Walker jumped on top of a grenade because he knew how to stop it without getting hurt, shielding it with a reinforced helmet. Steve Rogers jumped on top of a grenade despite fully believing he would get hurt, shielding it with his own body. John Walker exercised military training and Steve Rogers didn't hesitate to sacrifice his own life so that others wouldn't be hurt. That is what makes Walker the perfect soldier and Steve a good man.

In Thunderbolts*, Walker is in the same situation as Ava and Yelena, but he did not get there in the same way as Ava and Yelena. As perviously stated, they are both victims, outsiders their whole lives because of who they are. John Walker is the epitome of privilege who lost his status because of his own actions, because of a murder that, let's be honest, would've 100% been covered up by the US government had it happened while stationed out in war, not out on the street where dozens of civilians recorded it. This is his worst action that, unlike the rest of the Thunderbolts, he was 100% responsible for. It was then his own ego and inability to let go of the past that lost him his wife and son. Bucky even said something along the lines of "You made your choices" when it's brought up. So you simply cannot put him in the same story and give him the same treatment as all these other characters whose circumstances are so incredibly different from his.

All this said, it's not like I think Walker is evil. There's a reason I called him an antagonist and not a villain earlier. I think it's important to read his sentiment in the first gif as genuine. There was definitely a way to incorporate his character into further instalments and even redeem him if they wanted to. But I also believe that the MCU isn't capable of or allowed the kind of nuanced writing that would require.

THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER 1.02 - The Star Spangled Man, 1.04 - The Whole World is Watching, 1.05 - Truth

#wow i really went off there #but i've been thinking about this a lot #john walker #meta #mcu meta #mcuposting #thunderbolts*#tfatws #tana tag

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 day ago

Note

I genuinely felt that Book 7 had a strong start. I didn’t know it could go down hill so quickly once the dreams started dragging out. Its pacing issues really destroyed any hype it established during the earlier parts. I think Book 7 was the strongest up until Silver confronted his inner turmoil. Idia’s dreams were also reasonable as well. Hopefully Malleus and Lilia get more screen time to compensate for their absence during the middle bulk of book 7.

[Referencing this post!]

IT’S SUCH A SHAME 😭 The first third of book 7 (parts 1/the start to 100ish/the end of Lilia’s dream) was SO good… and then as soon as hit the dreamventure portion, we crashed and burned OTL

Sometimes I’m generous enough to extend the part of book 7 I thought was good from parts 1-100 to parts 1-115 (the end of Idia’s flashback explaining how he had been woken up). I basically only think Idia’s dream was “meh, acceptable enough” because when experiencing it for the first time, I thought Idia’s dream was the ONLY one we were seeing in this capacity. I believed that Idia’s dream was getting this “special” treatment since we had also witnessed Ortho “waking” in a unique way. Both of them are the main “villains” from the previous book, so I thought this was book 7’s way of bringing them back to take down Malleus. It… technically was that, but I wasn’t expecting Idia to announce his “recruit everyone!!!1!” plan 2 parts later 💀 I expected, now that we had reunited with both Shroud brothers, there would only be like maybe 2-3 updates left for book 7 to account for strategizing, finding a way to truly wake up in the real world, and then kicking Malleus’s tail. BOY, WAS I WRONG ON THAT FRONT 🫩 (<- deeply traumatized, this is my OB origin story/j)

The pacing problems were but one of the many factors bogging book 7 down; I also dislike the inconsistent tone between dreams, lack of stakes/urgency, lack of learning anything new and meaningful, over-explanations, focus on fanservice and contrivances, lack of focus on relevant characters, frequent in-your-face declarations of character development, and the very obvious patterns set for every dream (meaning they were mostly predictable). It sucks specially for the OB boys because their segments are the longest, involve the “I have/will become a better person”/“my past self was pathetic” speeches, and have the most contrived scenes I have ever witnessed (such as everyone in their dorm having to use their UM at least once, even if it makes little sense to). And because everything drags on for SO long, they try to make the build-up super emotional to compensate. But it gets to the point where it feels insincere or unearned by the time we finally get to the “shouting as they wake up” part because the dreams are held together with painter’s tape… 🙂‍↕️

I’m only left feeling like I’m a rag doll that was tossed onto a roller coaster and jerked everywhere. It’s fun and makes my emotions run high in the moment, sure. But once I’m off that ride (I’ve consumed the content) and sat with the experience for a while, I reflect on it and realize I did not actually enjoy it and the roller coaster was shaky (from meh writing + plot holes) and about to collapse the entire time I was on it.

Malleus really got shafted hard in his own book too??? Like this man hardly shows up 😭 and Lilia is gone for 2/3 of a book where he should be relevant?? They honestly NEED a book 8 so they both have a Mouse Mandated excuse to come back and actually do something more. Malleus especially needs that because book 7 also did us the disservice of TWO time skips after his OB (one X days, another X weeks) and completely glosses over any complicated feelings or struggles he may face in the aftermath. We immediately jump to him when Malleus is at a point where he claims he understands what he did was wrong???? When that feels inconsistent with how he has previously struggled to understand these things? Some OB boys recognized the error of their ways automatically, but I find it a little hard to believe that Malleus (who failed to learn anything about humans in the 2-3 years he has spent at NRC in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) suddenly “gets it”. It feels like an easy cop-out for Twst to write themselves out of the hole they dug with Malleus’s character and now it’s on book 8 to follow up on that and patch up all the new holes 7’s writing creates.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Idia Shroud #book 7 spoilers #Malleus Draconia #Lilia Vanrouge #notes from the writing raven #Ortho Shroud #Ignihyde #Malleus Draconia critical #Malleus dorm uniform vignette spoilers

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saharaocean · 1 day ago

Text

Perverts - txt

Soobin -

The car is parked. She’s sitting next to me, innocent, not knowing what she’s doing to me. I’m her boyfriend’s best friend, and that makes this shit so fucking forbidden, which only turns me on more.

My hand’s resting on my thigh, but in my head, she’s naked, no panties, legs spread wide for me. I imagine sliding my fingers through her wet, hot pussy, feeling her clench around my hand.

She has no idea I’m fucking her mentally right here, right now, can’t touch her because I know if I do, I’ll ruin everything. But that doesn’t stop me—it makes me want it harder.

I want to shove my cock in her mouth, make her swallow every inch while she looks at me scared and wanting it. I want to squeeze her tits hard, pinch her nipples until she screams.

But in reality, I can only brush her hand. And that drives me crazy.

I think about fucking her in this car, in public, with anyone able to walk by and catch us at any second. That makes me harder than anything.

I imagine spitting on her pussy before sliding two fingers in fast, wetting her, making her moan. I think about the size difference between us, how I make her tremble without even touching her.

It’s a dirty game only I can win. The boyfriend’s best friend with hands still, but a mind gone wild.

My cock is hard, and I just want her to kneel on the seat and suck me dry. But I know I can’t.

So I clench my fists again, bite my lip, imagine every filthy detail.

This is what I want. This is what I can’t have. And that’s the only reason I can’t stop craving her.

Yeonjun-

The heat rises just thinking about her, my neighbor. Every time I see her cross the hallway, that short skirt and innocent look, I can’t help but imagine everything.

In my head, she’s lying on my bedroom floor, naked, legs spread wide just for me. I’m deep inside her, slow at first, feeling her squeeze every inch of me.

I can’t touch her in reality, can’t cross that line because we’re neighbors, and I know any wrong move would ruin everything.

But in my mind, I’m filling her up to the brim, my cock buried deep inside her hot, tight pussy.

I feel her trembling as I thrust, her moans filling the room, but no one hears because it’s just a dirty dream.

I think about filling her pussy until she can’t take any more, about the creampie that floods her, spilling out as she shudders.

Then she moves on top of me, and I feel her soaking wetter, a squirt drenching me and driving me insane.

I imagine her flushed face, heavy breathing, body tense and shaking with every thrust.

It’s all forbidden—she’s my neighbor, and I’d never dare tell her out loud.

But in my head, I’m the only one who can give her that wild, deep pleasure, no holding back, no fear.

And even though I know it won’t happen, I can’t stop fantasizing about every drop she spills, every muffled moan she saves just for me.

This desire is mine, a dark secret that only comes out when I’m alone, thinking about her.

Beomgyu-

Beomgyu felt unable to concentrate on the lesson, as her gaze constantly drifted to her classmate. His presence was intoxicating, causing his senses to vibrate with every subtle movement. He inhaled deeply, trying to capture its seductive scent, a sweet perfume that seemed to permeate the air around him.

As the teacher continued to speak, Beomgyu's mind wandered to the forbidden fantasies that consumed him. He imagined her skirt slowly riding up, revealing her creamy thighs and the soft, supple skin she longed to touch. His imagination painted a vivid scene: he could almost feel the silky texture of his bare skin under his fingertips as he slowly and deliberately slid them between his legs. With each caress, she imagined her breath ragged, her thin hands clinging to the desk as her body quivered with pleasure.

He imagined her face, blushing and her eyes glazed with desire, oblivious to the intimate caress that was developing in her mind. But reality brought him back suddenly when he opened his eyes and found her diligently taking notes, oblivious to the erotic dance of his thoughts.

Beomgyu felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that this was a private fantasy, just for her.

Kai -

Kai couldn’t stop thinking about her. His best friend. The one who sat next to him like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn’t picturing her with her legs wide open, begging for him to fuck her.

Every night, it’s the same fantasy. She’s naked. Warm skin on his sheets, nipples hard, thighs trembling. He’s between them—breathless, cock rock hard, grinding against her wet cunt until she cries out for more.

In his mind, she looks up at him with needy eyes, moaning his name, begging him not to stop. And he doesn’t. He fucks her rough, dirty, holding her hips and slamming into her deep, making her take every inch. She’s soaked, tight, perfect—clenching around him as he loses control. He cums hard, whispering her name, wishing it was real. Wishing she was actually under him, full of him.

But then he opens his eyes. And she’s still just his best friend. Still smiling, still clueless. And he’s left with a hard-on and a head full of filthy dreams he can’t stop having.

Taehyun -

She works at the café he goes to every week. Polite. Sweet. Smiling like she has no idea what kind of filthy shit he thinks about every time she brings him his drink.

Taehyun can’t stop staring at her chest. Tight shirt, soft curves, nipples barely hidden. He imagines grabbing her by the waist, pulling her into his lap, and burying his face between her tits while she gasps. Licking. Sucking. Biting. He wants to leave marks, to taste her skin, to hear her whimper when his tongue circles her nipples slow and wet.

In his mind, she straddles him on one of the café chairs after hours. Her apron undone, tits bouncing in his face as he sucks them like he’s starving. He palms her ass, hard, grinding her against his bulge while her moans echo through the empty place. She tastes like sugar and sin. And he doesn’t stop until she’s dripping for him, begging him to fuck her right there on the counter.

But it’s just a fantasy. One he plays on repeat. Every time she smiles, every time she bends forward just a little too far. She has no idea how badly he wants to ruin her.

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blackbirdsblackberries · 2 days ago

Note

I'm pulling this idea from the comments I left on chapter 6 and expanding on it a bit. But first, I'll reiterate the comments.

'Imagine she actually does leave Gotham without unveiling her identity? Goes to Fawcett and Aranea joins Captain Marvel while she struggles to survive as a civilian. As a civilian, she meets Billy Batson and at least tries to help him where she can. Of course, Billy notices and they end up revealing their identities to each other. It ends up a joke that Aranea practically adopted a street orphan named Billy Batson. When that Bat Fam finally finds her, at least.'

Once she gets an acceptance letter to Fawcett University, Y/N drops out of Gotham University and leaves one city for the other. Packs her bag, cause she doesn't have much. Pulls out an envelope of cash she had stored away and stuffs it into the bag as well. And then leaves to his them where only she would know. Webbing it to the ceiling of an abandoned building that's close to the train station.

She takes her costume and goes on one last patrol with the phone that she uses only for her vigilante life and leaves it webbed where she knows the Bat Family will find it. Webs up criminals without talking to anyone.

Bane tries to do some grandstanding and sees Aranea. Only to immediately realize tonight was not the night as a silent spider swings in and kicks his shoulder so hard it breaks. To which she continues by swinging in again and dragging his ass into the air, tossing him over and over again while putting him in a web burrito and sticks him to a wall on the fourth floor -of a six story building. Too high to cut him down, to low from the roof to drag him up.

The Bats desperately trying to get close to Aranea to ask wtf is going on, but she's too fast.

And suddenly, the she stops on the roof of Wayne Enterprise, the tallest building in Gotham, as dawn breaks. Fragile rays of sunlight fight their way through the smog ridden skies, glittering along the many windows of the building under her feet. She waits. Watches the sun rise. Letting two of the Bat Family catch up behind her. (Probably best if it's Black Bat and Signal.) And when questioned why she was behaving like this. Only for her reply to send chills down the vigilantes spines.

"The Wayne's touched someone who wasn't theirs. I'm.... Livid. I don't think I'll be patrolling for a while after this. I need to calm down."

She leaps from the building, only pulling herself up by her web at the last second from the ground. Swinging away into the light of daybreak.

Only for Oracle to start freaking out because tracking her phone shows it isn't moving in the same direction. It's not moving at all. Found on top of a roof they had frequently used as a meeting point with the spider vigilante. By the time they realize what this means, Y/N has already changed back and is getting ready to board her train.

She doesn't fully understand how her and Billy became so close.

Maybe it started when she waited on a rooftop for Captain Marvel? It was a month after arriving to here. She had wanted to tell him that she was in his city and that she meant no harm. Marvel then, hesitantly, invited her to help around the city. Saying how it'd be nice for another vigilante to help out on a smaller scale to give him a chance to get to a scene. Of course, Aranea agreed!

Or maybe it started when Y/N got off that empty train to an equally empty station and she saw a lone child look at her in confusion from where he was sat on the bench? She realized the kid was probably homeless, but knew from experience how it felt to be a charity case. So she asked him for directions and if he had any recommendations for someone moving to Fawcett. The way Billy's eyes lit up as he excitedly said about all the interesting places that most tourists would never go and where the best and cheapest produce could be bought. He had even taken her up on showing her around the city. Teaching her the bus routes, the safest streets to walk, the best public parks. He did give her a deadpan look when she paid for his lunch at the diner he took her to, but she rebutted with the fact a tour guide here would costs three times as much as the total lunch bill.

But either way, now she's finally gotten an okay job and an apartment while taking a light class load and does vigilante work once a week after nearly two months of not being in the suit and month of being a vigilante here with Marvel's blessing.

Quite literally.

Billy ended up worried that something would happen to her and gave her blanket permission to use a fraction of Marvel's powers. Fittingly, with the human-turned spider-turned goddess Arachne deciding to use her as a medium for her powers. And it technically wasn't much considering the abilities she already had. But she got better at knitting. And crochet. She even was given an innate sense for lace weaving! And a biological ability to make venom and webs, rather than relying on her technology.

Billy slowly allowed himself space in her apartment, in a guest bedroom she had. Maybe having the same hobbies as the old ladies proved she wasn't like the Foster parents he'd get forced to cohabitate with? Or her own vigilante status showed she could be an ally? Or the fact she still had childish tendencies helped prove that she was more of a sibling than a parent? Any way you cut it, Billy decided that this was occasionally his home too. Like a cat.

Meanwhile, the Bats realize that Aranea is a vigilante in Fawcett now.

And that's where Y/N went after dropping out of Gotham University due in part to all the harassment the Wayne's put her through.

Of course, they didn't want to think the two were one and the same. The guilt would eat them alive! But Aranea had shown up two months after Y/N moved. Which means that it's possible that the vigilante followed the college student. It felt more damning when they realized that Aranea was using gadgets Y/N invented. Especially those discs.

Looking into Y/N now showed that she had a job, an apartment, and a very young teen roommate. 14, same age as Damian. With the hilarious name of Billy Batson.

But Aranea has been seen multiple times protecting Billy above all others. Same goes for Captain Marvel protecting Y/N just as protective as Aranea towards Billy.

Either Aranea is trying to protect Y/N and it means protecting Billy when the time comes to it, or is Y/N. Which might mean that Billy is Captain Marvel. And if so, the Bat Family might have to take custody of him. Because Aranea most definitely won't come back without the Bat's having some leverage.

...

Are you an angel? This was the most heavenly thing I've read today!!! At this point you can start writing my stories for me 😞💔

No, cause the Bats would be LIVID. Like, tf you mean you abandoned them for FAWCETT of all places? Half of them forgot that place even existed. Like, hello? Why there? That's not very nice...

I think Jason would make a throw-away comment about adopting Billy and Dick quips in saying how that'd probably make Aranea come back. Immediately everyone would have stopped what they were doing to look at Bruce, if it got Aranea back then they'd do anything.

Billy though, he would not appreciate being used as a tool to get Aranea back to the Bats.

#dc comics #yandere #yandere batfam #dcu #yandere dc #dc robin #yandere batfamily #dc #dc universe #blackbirds feathers

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youdontknowe · 2 days ago

Text

Happy first of the month!

Making a good start by reading chapter 23 :)

1. I love that their oposites on wants to do important talks in confined space/ important talks in open spaces

2. Enclosed spaces with Dean pulling her about 😛 love that

3. ‘You need to bubble wrap him’ at this point they’re gonna have to live in a little bubble wrap cabin to both be happy

4. One of the things I find so sad about Dean is he’s always offering to be the punching bag 😭

5. That little thing for deans soul protecting what’s left of Jo from washing away makes me think souls sort of do what the person would want to do even without them knowing about it, cus the soul reaches out when attracted and tangled in people they care about souls as well

6. ‘Dean had called you’ OMG PRAYER THEORY

7. Awh seeing your parent suddenly disabled is really hard especially at first

8. “I can’t believe I’m encouraging this” lmao Bobby wishes he could be the shotgun dad but he loves the idiot like a son too

9. Feathery little shit pffffff

10. Dean worrying about the real problems tho cus i genuinely didn’t think of the whole illegal immigrant part

11. Ooooo boxers upgrades people upgrades

12. Ehehehe she also has a when I catch you list but it’s only revolved around people who hurt Dean or her family

13. “I could wear a blanket or a towel “ I bet you’d both like that you horny little shits

14. That little scene where he cradles her face has me thinking damn it’s been, what, a decade and 23 chapters and they still haven’t even said I love you never mind shagged

15. The movie is just Dean info dumping about his fav show

16. She’d love whatever season it is that Dean has the stubble beard and even more so current look Jensen

17. I hope the three squeezes gradually shift from safe to safe and I love you. cus three words

18. I think I’d genuinely cry with laughter if Sam had a mom I threw up moment 😂

19. But when Sam does that shrinking thing it’s so saddd like how are you 6’3’ and you just look so smol and sad

20. CROWLEY MENTIONED can you tell I like Crowleys character

21. Not her exposing Bobby like that 😂😂

22. Wildcard indeed cus none can tell what’s going on with her even she can’t

23. Dramatic but also reasonable Dean

24. Men and their inability to take their health seriously

25. Eugh that description is definitely disturbing

26. Dean thinks of her before he things of hunt plans I swear

27. Wait why did she forget she could swim??

28. Hmmm something ain’t right with her is it

29. Sam remembering he exists

30. Shirtless Dean ehehehe *kicking feet in the air*

31. She’s just crawling all over him damn I feel bad for Dean and his not so mini Dean

32. Dean pookie she’s not happy unless she’s with you

33. “Congratulations you have one living parent” that caught me so off guard 😂😂

34. I love when they just explain what’s happening in slightly less fancy words and Normal people are like yeah crazy as hell

35. Sam did not need to do all that PFFFF not the shouting her name during sex with another woman

36. This chapter is so long I’m taking a lunch break /pos

37. Dean talking about being her shadow gave me a fanart idea so hopefully expect that soon 😛(if I can figure out the anatomy lol)

38. The bar is so low for men but him panicking over boundaries he isn’t even sure on and refuses to ask about is so attractive

39. Little brain wiggle her tasting and smelling of fruit and being related to Lilith….. apple in the garden of Eden???

40. Scene switch and tone is always like oop caught me slacking ok

41. Her weird ennochian name im assuming is the one that gave Dean the nice feeling

42. Oh no it’s all stirring up again and wait a minute did lucifer get her to think about death to summon him??

43. Uhoh she’s calling Bobby dad that means bad

44. Poor princess she’s now being used as a tool for lucifer to get his plan in motion :(

45. End note: is this us officially entering your cannon universe and abandoning kripke? Yippeee

46. I’m really liking the fact that lucifer is a creepy little shit and also evil and I can’t wait for Crowley to come into the picture (if he does)

Chapter 23 - You've Been Waiting to Break

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: The Princess effect. It's kicking into their universe big time. (She's speedrunning season 5). Enjoy!

Chapter Title from Mr. Blue by Catherine Feeny

Word Count: 19.3k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You look for leads, and Dean is very normal about everything. Usual Warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, pining, action

Chapter 22 - Chapter 24

Read on A03!

“You’re gonna be pissed.”

You frown at Dean—drumming his hands on the edge of Baby’s wheel and watching you carefully—and shake your head. “Why would I be pissed?”

“Uh… I don’t know how to say it.” He lets out a long breath, tipping his head back to rest on the bench. “But you’re gonna be pissed. Just remember, none of us are happy about it. And- Uh- There is someone you can kill-“

“Dean-

“And overall, I think he’s doing pretty well with it. I mean, he hasn’t changed, and he’s no less valuable, still very- Y’know- Bobby-“

“Dean-“

“So if you want to kill one of us, kill Meg-“

“Who- Meg the demon?” Your eyes narrow, and your hands fly to the door. But before you can push it open, a strong arm is wrapping around your waist and tugging your back. “Fuck- Dean-“

He pins you tight against his side, and you’ve never been strong enough to really fight him before, but the exhaustion in your body isn’t doing you any favors.

You’ve slept, but only one proper night. Dean had—not so subtlety—bought snacks at the gas station and ordered you extra food when you stopped at a diner, but it’s not enough to make up for months of self-neglect. And Dean is Dean. Strong and Golden and a stubborn, overprotective asshat, who’s holding you like you’re a ragdoll. You don’t even get to think about how his hand is splayed over your stomach, or how his voice is deep in your ear and sending shivers up your spine, because you’re too busy trying to squirm out of his hold.

The Silver is silent and content in your body—it is Dean—but something’s wrong with Bobby, and Dean won’t let you go-

“Stop- Shit-“ Dean grunts in your ear, squeezing your body slightly. “Stop fucking moving, Princess-“

“Let me go-“

He shakes his head, his grip only tightening. “I’m trying to talk to you-“

“Talk to me inside-“

“Well, I want to talk to you in the car-“

“We’ve been in the car for fucking hours-“

“And I- son of a bitch.” Dean snaps your name, and suddenly he’s moving you, turning your body around until your face him, your noses bumping together and-

Fuck.

He’s so pretty. Green eyes deep on yours with his brow slightly furrowed, and he’s tanned a bit more since you left, although that might just be how he’s Golden. So fucking Golden. Smelling like cinnamon and grass, washing over you and causing a little gasp you can’t stop to escape your lips.

And he’s warm.

And his muscles are flexing around you, and there’s now a slightly stronger crook to his nose—you need to bubble wrap him, or start killing whoever’s been punching him in the face—but he’s still perfect.

And he’s real.

This is real. Not another dream or fantasy. Just Dean, pressed right against you, holding your gaze, and muttering your name in a firm, low voice that sparks a small fire in your gut.

“You gonna calm down?”

It’s too easy to shake your head. “You said I’d be angry, Winchester, you don’t get to tell me to calm down-“

“Shit, I know, just-“ He sighs, scanning over your face with a small frown. “I want you to be ready, Princess, but it isn’t that bad. Pinky promise.”

He raises his pinky between your bodies, and small, boyish grin on his face, and you sigh.

“You said there was a demon involved.”

“Yeah. That bitch that was on us when we were hunting for Dad.” He grimaces. “She kissed me.”

You can feel yourself tense, and you have no right to be pissed about that. Three kisses aren’t anything, and you’re the one who left, but if you had been there, nobody would have tried to touch Dean at all-

“I didn’t kiss her back.” He adds, and you swallow.

“I didn’t think you did.”

“Good.” His throat bobs slightly. “If you need to hit something, you can hit me.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not going to hit you, De-“

“I know. Just offering.” He grins at you, and you can’t stop yourself smiling slightly back.

He’s so close. And you’re going to kill that demon—mostly for whatever she did to Bobby, but a little for kissing your Dean, even if he’s not really yours—but later. Maybe after you’ve slept for a million years, in your own bed, with Dean tangled around you.

It would be nice if that kept going. If you kept waking up with his legs thrown over yours and his arm wrapped over you, pinning you a little between his body and the mattress.

And you want him to hold you like that in… other situations.

Like one where, instead of just dropping your head to his shoulder and taking a long, slow breath, you’re brave enough to crash your lips against his and see what he does about it. Maybe he’d carry you inside, and shout to Bobby that you’re home before marching to your room. Or he’d just press you down onto the Impala bench, and touch you here. And even without the gravitational pull that you have for him, he would want you enough to not wait. To run the hand on your lower back between your thighs or roll you on top of him, guiding you up and down his-

“You ready, Princess?” Dean’s voice is a little hoarse in your ear, and you swallow, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“How pissed am I going to be?”

He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear, and a small fire glows over your skin where his knuckles brush your cheek. “Call it a nine. Wait here.”

Dean shuffles away, but before he climbs out of the car, he turns back.

His jaw is clenched, brow furrowed, and his lips are in a tight line as he scans over your face. You open your mouth to ask him what’s wrong, but then he’s moving again. Crashing forward and wrapping his arms back around your body, almost suffocating you with the strength of his hug. His face buried in your hair, your leg thrown slightly over his lap to keep your body steady, and your arms flying around his torso without thought.

You can hear his heartbeat, when he’s pressing you to his chest. It’s a little fast, and his breathing is heavy around you, and you don’t ever want to move.

You’ll have to, eventually, but you don’t want to. Even if this is all you get of Dean for the rest of your life, you’ll take it. You can feel the light and iridescent color of the Spiderweb shining through your body, lighting up and casting around yours chest, almost forcing your body to melt into Dean’s.

But he’s got you.

So nothing can really be that bad at all.

“Dean.“ You whisper against his body, and he only holds you tighter.

“Missed you.” He mutters, lips brushing over the crown of your head. “So fuckin’ much. I- Son of a bitch, Princess, don’t do that again.“

“I won’t.” You mumble, praying to nothing that you’re telling the truth. You want to be. So fucking bad, you never want to leave Dean’s side again. “All the way down.”

“All the way down.” He squeezes your body three times, and he’s right.

Three times mean you’re good.

And you are good.

You’re home.

The Sky is still watching, when Dean offers you his hand to get out of the car, and you take it with a wide smile you can’t remember how to bite down. But it can fucking suck it. Right now it doesn’t matter, what Lucifer and the Blue and the Sky want from you.

You just want Dean. Want him to never let go of your hand, or let Gold fade from your body. You’re covered in it, when you stand up, and nothing ever been better. It’s not even wiping Jo’s pastel blue from your fingers, only coating over it like a shield, blocking it from ever being wiped away. And it still fucking hurts—a stabbing pain in your skull, an exhaustion heavy over your skin, and a pang in your gut that might just be hunger—but if you fall apart here, you’ll have Dean. You won’t hurt him—you’re not sure you can—and he’d never let you float too high away. He’d pull you back down, and hold you until you were only yours again.

And even when you’re not yours, you’re his.

And you haven't talked about it yet. How one second you were on a dirt road in Europe, running and running and only Silver, and then you were in Oregon. Staring at Dean and falling into him, nothing really clear except the Gold of Dean, the green of his eyes, and his voice saying your name.

But Dean hasn't asked. And if he does, you don't know what you'll tell him. You don't know how you did it. You're not sure you'll ever be able to do it again. But you'd been in pain, stretched into the emptiest corners of the universe and sunken into the darkest black holes, a small bit of you running through the feathers of birds in India and the lungs of fish in the Pacific, and then Dean had called you.

He'd called you, the rush had kicked in, and you'd gone to him. You'll always go to him. Just to be as close as he'll allow, you'll always go to Dean. You love him, and if he's asking you to stand by his side-to hold his hand and let him lead you anywhere in the world, but mostly home-you're not breaking any rules by listening.

You never should have left in the first place. If not for the taunts of Lucifer and pleas of the Blue still ringing in your ears—Sam would have held on for you, if you'd just stuck it out and stayed—for Bobby.

He's waiting for you in the entrance hall. Sitting in a-

"Shit." Your hand tightens in Dean's—now hidden behind your back, like you're a high schooler with a secret boyfriend, and Bobby's been waiting up to catch you sneaking out—and he squeezes it once as you stare down at Bobby.

He looks a little too amused by the whole situation, especially given he's the one in the wheelchair. But if he has any opinions on how close you're standing to Dean—how you're pressed to his chest, and his hand is suddenly on your hip to keep you steady—he doesn't share them. He only raises his brows and snorts at your wide features, wheeling a little closer with a dry expression.

"You gonna say hi? Or just gape at me like you ain't never seen a man sittin' down before."

"Hi." You whisper, and you want to move forward, but you’re frozen. You could move and explode and hurt Bobby more. You could try to touch him, but maybe he doesn’t want you to. Bobby, more than anyone, knows what you’re capable of. What you can do, and how little control you have, and he may be mad at you for leaving him at all-

“Fuckin’- Jesus, stop starin’ at me like I’m gonna explode.”

You swallow, and your knees feel a little weak.

Whatever happened, you could have stopped it. If you’d been here, nothing would’ve even gotten close enough to Bobby to hurt him-

Bobby grunts your name, wheeling a little closer, and the only thing keeping you upright might be Dean. Still holding your hand, still touching your hip, standing a little taller than usual behind you but firm around you. Golden and grounding and stained all over Bobby’s hallway.

And the wheelchair is already covered in Bobby’s green. Dean said it was a demon who was to blame. You would have known it was a demon immediately You could have stopped it-

“Look at me, kiddo.”

You swallow, swaying slightly on your feet, and meet Bobby’s eyes. They’re a little glossy, but just as firm as always. Just like Bobby’s soul, grounded and firm.

“You listenin’?”

You nod weakly, and Bobby sighs.

“Dean, go in the other room.”

“Uh-“ You can feel Dean shift behind you, and your hand flies to cover his on your hip. You don’t want him to leave. If Dean’s leaves, you’re going to float away, and nothing will be able to pull you back down.

“Dean-“

“I’m worried she’s gonna fall over, Bobby.” Dean mutters, and you just nod again. The Silver is silent in your body, but there’s still a lump forming in your throat. Dean can’t go away. You just got him back and the pain isn’t eased, but you don’t think you’re going to lose yourself, just as long as Dean’s here.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Bobby mutters, running a hand over his face. “Can’t believe I’m gonna encourage this.”

You can hear the frown in Dean’s voice. “Encourage what-“

“Shut it, idjit. You’re stayin’, but you ain’t here.”

“Oh- Uh, sure.” Dean’s thumb starts to rub over your hip, and he squeezes your hand one time once more.

You manage to squeeze back three times, and he relaxes behind you.

“Do I just- Should I close my eyes-“

“You pretend you’re in another room.” Bobby grunts, keeping his eyes on you. “You listenin’ to me, kiddo?”

You nod again, and Bobby wheels a little closer.

“Good. This,” he gestures to his body. “Ain’t your fault. Ain’t no one’s fault but that bitch Meg. Not your fault we’re in this mess either, so if you’re thinking of lockin’ yourself up instead of sleepin’ in your damn bed, then I’ve been doin’ your laundry for months for no fuckin’ reason-“

“Bobby.” You cut him off with a whisper, the words starting to rise like vomit in up your throat.

You need to say it. Need to tell him. Need him to know, because you’re such a shit fucking daughter but you still want him to know.

“I’m sorry.”

He scowls. “I just fuckin’ told ya-“

“For leaving.” You shake your head, your words starting to choke in your throat. “I- I didn’t even tell you, and I know you were mad at Dean but it’s not his fault. It’s- I had to- I couldn’t stay here with- With Jo-“ Your vision is starting to blur, and the only thing keeping you up is certainly Dean. “I should have called- Or just texted- And I left you with these two idiots and I’m sorry-“

Bobby mutters your name, and you stumble forward, moving down to your knees to give him a long, tight hug. It’s a little awkward with positioning, but Bobby doesn’t hesitate to return it. Squeezing you slightly as your sniff and silent tears fall down your cheeks, sighing in your ear as he rubs your shoulder.

And when he speaks, he keeps his voice low enough for only you to hear.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about, kiddo. Did end up burnin’ all her other shit, just in case, but she’s buried near the waterfall, down by trail. You can make Dean take you. He ain’t gonna say no.”

You nod, squeeze Bobby once. “Thank you. Were you? Mad at him?”

Bobby sighs. “Mighta been short with ‘im, yeah.”

“Short?” You pull back, wiping your nose with your sleeve and giving Bobby a small smile. “You yelled at him, didn’t you.”

“Yelled at both of ‘em.” Bobby grunts. “Yelled at Cas, too. Feathery little shit wouldn’t say where the hell he dropped you-“

“I did ask him not to. But it was Rome-“

“Rome?!” Dean all but shouts behind you, and you turn to see him running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Fucking- I didn’t think of Rome-“

“Aren’t you supposed to be pretending you’re in another room?”

Dean rolls his eyes at you. “Well I am here, Princess, and I can hear-“

“I know, De.” You give him a teasing smile, the strain in your voice slowly softening, but he looks adorable. Somehow pacing without moving, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket as he stares at you in disbelief. “You’re being dramatic again.”

“Shut up, you were missing-“

“I called you every day-“

“Yeah, from the other side of the freakin’ planet-“

You’d be pissed about how annoyed he sounds, but you know Dean. He’s rubbing his face and glaring at the air—but not you—so he’s more furious with himself than anything else. He’ll calm down.

You just need to keep smiling at him, and he’ll probably talk himself into a reset.

“I- Shit, you don’t speak Italian, and you didn’t have any damn money-“

“I worked it out.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “You stole shit, didn’t you.”

“It’s not stealing, it’s borrowing-“

“Did you give it back?”

You flush slightly. “No.”

“Then that’s stealing, Princess. And- Shit, you were an illegal immigrant, what if you got caught-“

“I think I would’ve been fine-“

“Of course you think that.” Dean throws his hands in the air, shaking his head. “But I wouldn’t have been there to help you, and- Son of a bitch- Rome-“

“The hell would you have done if ya did think of Rome?” Bobby asks, and you’re grateful. You trying to offer Dean solutions only seems to be spiraling his freakout more. “You ain’t able to fly without goin’ catatonic, boy. Were you gonna rent a boat?”

You snort, and Dean frowns.

“Could a boat make it across the… Atlantic, right-“

“Dean.” You wrinkle your nose at him, moving fully back to your feet. “You were not going to take a boat across the ocean.”

“I could’ve-“

“Yeah? How do you rig a mast.” Bobby’s voice is dripping with the same amusement as yours, and Dean scowls.

“I’d learn as I went.”

You giggle, moving to stand back at his side. “You would’ve drowned, Deano.”

He glowers at you, even as he grabs your hand once more, his voice moving under his breath. So quiet you almost don’t hear it. “Would’ve fuckin’ swum then.”

“Swam.” You hum, and Dean blinks.

“Uh-“

Bobby coughs, the expression on his face as he looks between you and Dean entirely unreadable. “You two got a chance to eat, before you got back?”

You nod. “We stopped at a diner this morning.”

“Late lunch?” Bobby grunts, you shrug, and Dean tugs your hand slightly, jerking his head to Bobby with an almost pleading expression.

“De-“

“I’m hungry.” He mutters, and you almost laugh.

“You’re always hungry-“

“Yeah, but I want that late lunch-“

“Tell Bobby, not me.”

“I can hear.” Bobby grumbles, starting to turn in his chair. “Dean, help ‘er settle back in. Sam called few hours before you showed up, he’ll be back in the morning.”

“Can we-“

“We’ll go over everythin’.” Bobby sighs, giving you a gentle smile over his shoulder. “Welcome home, kiddo.”

You swallow, and nod. “Thank you.”

He nods, wheels away, and you’re left with Dean behind you, shifting awkwardly on his feet as you turn to him with a grin.

“Why didn’t you just ask Bobby for lunch?”

He scowls. “The offer was for you, sweetheart, not me.”

“But he’s making you the lunch-“

“Cause he knows I’m gonna give you some of it.” Dean mutters, and before you can push further, he’s tugging you closer to his side. “C’mon. You need to change.”

You frown down at your clothing. It’s not clean, but it’s far from the worst you’ve ever seen. “I don’t have anything clean-“

“Take one of my shirts.” Dean shrugs. “And I think Bobby did do your dirty shit last month, but you can take my boxers too. If you need them.”

You only just manage not to stumble at the idea. Of wearing Dean’s boxers. His shirt you’ve done before, but you’ve worn Sam’s shirt, too. Not for more than an hour at a time—and just until you can get to either your own, non-blood-splattered clothing, or Dean—but all the same, you’ve worn it.

You’ve never worn Dean’s boxers. And now all you can think about is Dean, wearing boxers, grinning down at you and holding you by your hip. Guiding you down and whispering in your ear, his eyes dancing with a tease light as you melt into him and bury your face in his bare chest-

“You called me an idiot.” Dean mumbles in your ear as you walk upstairs, his hand sliding to your lower back. “That’s pretty freakin’ rude, Princess.”

Focus.

You need to focus. And later, you’re going to have to figure out how to get those fantasies under control. It’s not like you’ve never thought about Dean like that, but it’s only growing more demanding. More distracting. More obvious, where he might say your name and you’ll moan from just the sound. That will definitely be breaking a rule. Can’t show it on your face. Can’t make this about you.

Whining whenever Dean’s fingers brush over bare skin, or gaping at him with an obvious flush and lust-blown expression—lost in your own head to thoughts of big, calloused hands shoving your knees apart and full lips kissing on your inner thigh, and you need to get a fucking grip—is going to give something away.

If it’s not that you love him, it’s that you’re a literally blushing virgin. Aching and needy for Dean without anything to offer him in return. Maybe yourself—all of you, the bits you’ve never wanted anyone but Dean to see, that so many beings seem hellbent on taking—but that’s not enough. That’s like giving someone a sick cat. It will take so much time to make them trust you, for them just to sit in your lap, and the whole time you’re never even going to know if they’ll be gone the next day.

Dean doesn’t deserve that. You know—have known—that he should be with anyone but you.

But you’re the one he’s grinning at. The one he’s guiding down the hall and touching.

And it’s not indulging if Dean touches you.

You roll your eyes, keeping your voice bored in the hope he doesn’t notice your slight gape or flush. “You’re not an idiot, De.”

His smile grows. “You’re the one who said it, sweetheart-“

“I didn’t mean it. You know that.”

Dean’s smile is impossibly wide as you push the door to your room open, and it’s never not going to be painful. Strangling the words I love you, Dean, in your throat, or watching his chest puff out at the idea that he’s smart. He is smart. You don’t know who’s been telling him he’s not—that’s a lie, you have an idea, and John should be praying in hell that the angels get to you before you get to him—but he is.

And you want to tell him everything. Not just what you have to say, but the things you’ve kept to yourself for so long. The Sky is right out the window, and you always tell him not to open the curtains because then it will watch. The Silver is volatile, but you don’t think it could hurt him if you tried. You’d make him sick, but you wouldn’t hurt him.

Dean’s soul will never leave his body.

It will only run with a little bit of Silver, because you’ve embedded into him and it’s never going to go away.

You want to tell him that, too. Even if it makes him leave, or finally look at you like the monster everyone else seems to know you are. You can’t tell him—you’re sick and vile and love him, and you never want him to leave—but you still want to.

You want to tell him about how there are Men on God, and Dean might be one of them. Maybe. But the Men of God always end up turning on the Magdalenes, and you know Dean wouldn’t do that. He stayed. He waited.

You love him.

Passing you his shirt and boxers just as promised, and waiting awkwardly on your bed as you change in the bathroom.

“I’ll- Uh, you can have dibs on laundry.” He calls your name, and you can picture him frowning at his feet. “Sammy can deal, or just wear a freakin’ blanket or towel-“

“I could wear a blanket or towel. I mean, it’s not like laundry takes a million years-“

“It’s your house first.”

“Technically, it’s Bobby’s-“

“Technically, that makes it yours too-“

“No, it doesn’t. I’m not his legal child.”

“Me and Sammy aren’t his legal children either. And you’ve lived here longer.”

Shit. “Shut up.”

Dean only laughs. “Bossy, Princess.”

You flush, arranging your hair in the mirror, and you almost don’t fully recognize yourself. It’s nothing in your features—sure you look a little tired, but you’re always a little tired—but something in your eyes. Almost a glow, or gleam that’s leaking out, over your features like an infection.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

You frown, examining every pore of your face for even a bruise or scratch, maybe a seared mark left by one of the archangels, but there’s nothing. Lucifer didn’t touch you, and if the Blue did something, Eileen would have noticed and told you.

Shit, you need to talk to Dean about Eileen, too.

Problem for later.

Dean calls your name, his voice a little firmer than before. “What’s wrong-“

“Nothing- It’s-“ There’s something. You don’t have name for it, but it’s bright, and buried right under your skin. Invisible if you’re not looking for it, but somehow clear all the same. A little like a faint star over a city, only in you. “Do I look different?”

You can hear the frown in his voice. “Different from what?”

“Before.”

You don’t say I left. You don’t have to.

Dean knows.

“You looked the same to me, sweetheart.” There’s a pause before he continues. “You had a fever. Maybe it’s that.”

You sigh, turning on the water to wash your face. “Fevers don’t change how you look, De.”

“They fuck with your head though. Could be what’s happening.”

“You’re saying I’m going crazy?”

He laughs. “You’ve been crazy, Princess-“

“Hey-“

“It’s fine. I like crazy.”

He keeps just saying things. Small, little things like that, as if he doesn’t understand the fireworks they set off across the Spiderweb, or how everything goes technicolor in the aftershock of his words. He just says them, and keeps fucking talking.

“Can we watch a movie?”

“What movie?”

“I dunno. Anything.”

You really want to watch a movie with him. To curl up in Dean’s lap and lean your head back on his shoulder, letting him wrap his arms around your stomach and resting his chin on the top of your head, maybe kissing along your neck and letting his hand wander between your legs.

Fucking Christ. You need to get it together.

“We-“

“We’ve got shit to do, I know. But Sammy won’t be home until tomorrow-“

“Dean-“

He lets out a dramatic sigh. “C’mon, it’s been so fuckin’ boring without you-“

You snort. “You started the apocalypse, De.”

“Yeah, and it’s a bunch of angel family bullshit and politics. One movie.” You open the door, and he gives you the wide, boyish and charming grin, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Please, Princess. I’ll give you back the Firebird.”

"He’s my car.” You mumble, fighting down a daydream where you walk between his legs, and see what he does about it. “It was a gift, De. You have to give him back.”

“I know.” He moves to his feet, and you’re frozen in to doorway of the bathroom. “Still want you to watch a movie with me.”

You swallow, your eyes wide as he moves closer. “Can I pick what movie?”

“You gonna watch it, or read the whole time.”

“I’ll watch.”

Your voice is only a whisper now. But Dean’s stopped in front of you, and he’s so Golden, and you missed him so much. There’s too much to tell him, but all the same, not enough. Never enough you can say to properly explain what he is to you, what he does to you—smirking down at you, his shirt smelling like cinnamon and practically absorbing the heat from his body—or how much you love him.

It might be bending a rule, but you really have to find a way to tell him without saying it. Just so you don’t drive yourself insane.

Just so Dean doesn’t drive you insane.

He’s taking your face between his hands and hold your gaze on his, the tips of his fingers tangled slightly in your hair and his attention turning the Spiderweb into only a burst of furious color and light-

“Then you can do whatever you want, Princess.” He mutters, and it’s taking a lot of effort not to drool as his thumb brushes the edge of your lips. “And you look the fuckin’ same to me.”

You look the same.

You feel the same. A little more exhausted, but just as much in pain. Still sick. Still certain there isn’t a cure, but Dean makes it all so much easier.

And Dean looks the same too. Just as tired, bags under his eyes and a few new scars on his hands alone, his callouses rough on your skin, and you’d never want him any other way.

He leans down, brushing a featherlight kiss to your brow, and you all but fold into him as he murmurs onto your skin.

“Let’s get some food in you, sweetheart. Then we can start that movie.”

Dean leads you downstairs with your hands tangled together, and Bobby only rolls his eyes at the sight of you in oversized boxers and a shirt that’s pretty obviously Dean’s—mono-colored and carrying a single stain near the collar that’s probably barbecue sauce or ketchup, but has long faded into only a mark—before grunting that dinners in the kitchen, and you and Dean both got workin’ legs to go get it yourself.

It’s good that he can joke about it. It makes the gnawing in your gut feel a little less sour and painful, and your skin prickle with less shame.

You’re still going to try and fix it. Once the ease lifts—it always does—and life isn’t only this fleeting second of Dean’s elbow bumping yours as he eats and his thigh pressed against your under the table, you’re going to heal Bobby. If you had the Silver under control, you might be able to do it now.

But you don’t. And the Silver hasn’t seemed all that interested in healing things lately. But you’re still a witch. You can still find a ritual or spell or something to help Bobby.

He’s still Bobby, in the wheelchair. Talking to you about nothing as you all pretend not to feel the looming presence of the apocalypse, hanging over your heads and lying under every word. But if Bobby’s in a wheelchair, demons attack, and no one’s here to help-

You set down your fork for a few minutes. You’re already at more than you’re used to—Dean had glared at you until your plate was full, then his face had split into a wide grin as he led you to the table—and that thought is making you a little sick.

If you can’t heal Bobby, you’ll have to ward his house more. Find ways for him to fight demons and angels from the chair. You’ll leave less—you’ve already left too much—and find a way to be useful without the Silver. You have the Blade, and your mind, and that should be enough help Dean and Sam, and keep Bobby safe.

It will have to be.

You’ll make sure it is.

After the ease breaks.

Tonight, you’ll just fall a little further into Dean.

He herds you to the couch in front of Bobby’s old TV, passes you the remote with a grin, and sprawls out at your side as you flip mindlessly through the channels.

“You know what you’re looking for-“

You nod and hum, and stop on that station that always plays Scooby Doo reruns.

Dean stills as you carefully scoot closer to his side.

“I-“ He clears his throat, his voice still hoarse. “Didn’t know you liked Scooby, Princess.”

You just shrug. Your opinion on Scooby is mostly neutral.

You like how quickly Dean relaxes, how often he smiles, and the way his arm moves over your shoulders as he talks over half the show. Telling you what happening and cracking stupid jokes that still make you giggle. And it’s good he’s describing the show, because you’re not watching at all.

You’re only looking at Dean.

His jaw is sharp, and if you trace your fingers over it, you’ll be able to feel the prickle of his stubble that will be shaved by tomorrow. He should grow it out. You should hide the stupid razor, and see how hard he tries to find it. He’d look good with a beard, and even if that counts as indulging yourself, you’d really be doing the world a favor.

It would hide his face, though. And Dean has such a pretty face, and you love every single small scar and bump and freckle of it. Just as you love his voice talking about how obvious it is who’s ‘haunting’ this mansion, and you love the strength of his body around you, and you love the way he’s so trapped on the cartoon that it you can barely hear any weight in his voice. He’s swearing and asking for your opinions and keeping his arm around you, and you never want to move again.

And when he finally glances down at you, before slowly doubling back and reaiming all his focus to just you, you offer him a small smile.

“Your thingy.” You poke his chest, the haze of sleep and Dean starting to cloud your thoughts. “It’s gone.”

Dean shrugs, his gaze still locked on yours. “Cas took it. Said it’s good for finding God or some shit.”

“God?”

“Yeah, Princess. God. Hear he’s missing.”

You frown at where Dean’s amulet used to be. It’s strange. Now that you’ve seen it, you’re not going to be able to stop seeing it. The thing has always just seemed like a part of him. This is almost like he’s missing an arm. “Where’d he go?”

“Don’t know.” Dean’s grin grows. “Think that’s the missing part, sweetheart.”

You nod thoughtlessly, turning the fabric of Dean’s shirt between your fingers. “You think Cas is gonna find him?”

“Nah. I think he skipped out on us for a reason.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Cas says I look like God.”

“Well,” Dean sighs, his voice dropping to only a breath, and everything is only Golden. “Good he’s getting something right, then.”

You’re not sure you hear him right. You might just be going insane, and you’re so tired. There’s a pressure over your eyelids that’s trying to push them down. You’ve been running and running, and Dean’s always been a good place to fall down. So you yawn, your face falling into Dean’s neck, and a soft hum escapes you when his hand moves up to tangle in your hair. To hold you against him.

You know you can never tell him.

But you can have this.

Just for tonight, you can this.

“You tired, Princess?” Dean asks, his voice soft, and you nod.

You mostly just want Dean to carry you to bed.

It’s not making it about you if you don’t say anything. If Dean chuckles, pulls you fully into his arms, and carries you upstairs with only another wide yawn escaping your lips. It’s not indulging if he sets you in bed then crawls right after you, settling on his side of the mattress and watching you for a long moment in the dark.

It’s not showing it on your face if he can’t see your face.

And it’s not affecting work if you can’t do anything until tomorrow. If anything, it’s helping work. Because Dean’s hand moves back into yours, sleep pulls you under only seconds later, and for the first time since you left, you sleep peacefully and dreamlessly through the night.

Dean’s still there, when you wake up. Upright in bed on his phone, his hand still holding tight to yours. And when you mumble something that’s probably supposed to be his name, he grins and squeezes your hand once.

You don’t respond with words—rolling away with a grumble and kicking Dean’s leg when he laughs—but you do squeeze his hand back. Three times.

It’s easy to stay like that for a while. Dean not making any effort to move you, and your head spinning a little as you try to pick apart if it is a dream.

It isn’t.

You can feel the warmth of Dean’s hand, and the cotton of the sheets, stuck to your skin.

This is real.

And when you finally push off the mattress and force yourself to take your hand from Dean’s, he tightens his grip, and pulls you right back down. Your head is resting on his knee.

It’s easier not to think about it.

“De,“ you yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with your free hand. “I need to pee-“

“Yeah, just…” He trails off, scanning over you carefully, and you frown.

“Do I look different?”

“No.” He shakes his head, but doesn’t stop staring. “I- No. You want me to wait for you? Sammy’s back, and we gotta stop the x-men.”

You pause. “Apocalypse?”

He grins. “Yeah. Good, right?”

“Not your worst.”

“C’mon-“

“Dean.” You tug on his hand, pouting up at him, your eyes fluttering slightly. “Please.”

He’s staring at you again, and you can see the clench of his jaw.

He’s still not letting go of your hand.

“You- Uh-“ Dean coughs, shaking his head with a tight frown. “Need to- Gotta brush my teeth. Left my toothbrush in my bathroom. Gonna- See you downstairs.”

You blink, everything rushing too fast as Dean helps you to your feet, releases your hand like you’ve burned him, and almost bolts out of the room.

Almost.

He turns back, flies at you before you know what’s happening, and pulls you into a hug so tight your breath catches in your throat.

“I’m- Good you’re home.” He plants a firm kiss on the side of your head before drawing back and grabbing your face between his hands, his voice only a rasp. “Missed you, Princess. You’re- Thanks.”

Then he’s just gone. And you’re left standing like an idiot in the middle of the room, swaying slightly and touching your face when he’d held you.

Your fingers move away, and they’re coated in gold.

It really does seem to be preserving Jo’s blue, deeper under your skin and now almost impossible to wipe away.

And it’s a few more moments before you remember how to move, and another second before you can walk with balance. You’re moving through most of your morning in an almost drunken haze. Maybe Bobby has a gas leak, and that’s why you feel so high. Maybe there’s something in the water, and that’s why everything is technicolor. Maybe Lucifer did something to you, and that’s why your skin feels like it’s humming and electric, small shivers running up your spine whenever you dip your head, and smell the cinnamon and grass lingering on Dean’s shirt.

But it’s probably just Dean. Nobody else has ever been able to affect you like that.

Only, and always, Dean.

He’s grinning at you, as you shuffle into the kitchen. Bobby’s at the head of the table, and Sam-

You hear a soft mutter of your name, and Sam’s staring at you from the doorway, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

He doesn’t seem to be moving. And it’s moments like these, where you can see what Dean means when he calls Sam small. Because he’s taking up the whole doorframe, but his shoulders are slumped, and his head is bowed, and it looks almost as if he’s trying to shrink into himself.

And you’ve done the same thing. Countless times. But even as Sam’s body is hunching, his soul is spreading out. It’s not the odd, twisting pheromones people wave out, overwhelming you and making your head spin slightly. It’s quieter. More tentative.

All purple.

Sam’s purple again. The right purple. And there are slightly marks where the red had been creeping over him, they’re more like scars than cracks.

You wish you knew how to fix that. Magdalene’s are supposed to be connected to souls.

But you can’t control the Silver.

There’s so much to heal, but even before, using the Silver was dicey. Now it might end in disaster.

But you can still step across the room, and pull Sam into a tight hug.

He freezes for a second, but slowly wraps his arms around you, and holds you there until you open your eyes, and his purple isn’t as pained.

Sam clears his throat as you step back, his voice soft when he speaks.

“I- I’m-“

You shake your head once, and Sam swallows.

You’re not going to make him do this in front of everyone. You know Sam’s sorry. You can see it in the desperation on his face, in how he’s barely meeting your eyes and pulling his lips into a line. And you love Dean, but he can be a needy little ass. He’s already clearing his throat and reaching out to tug on your sleeve, nodding to the chair when you frown at him over your shoulder.

You roll your eyes, and look back to Sam.

“You wanna go shopping later? For groceries?”

Sam blinks at you, then nods. “Yeah, that sounds good. Please.”

You smile at him, and turn back to Dean before the man explodes.

“Why don’t I get to go shopping,” he grumbles as you drop at his side, and Bobby beats you to the answer.

“Cause I need ya doin’ your damn job, Dean. You got a day off. Lucifer ain’t offerin’ paid vacation.”

Dean scowls. “Then why does Sammy get a day-“

“He didn’t get a day. He finished the hunt.” Bobby passes you a paper and pencil, a small smile on his face as you whisper thanks, and Dean keeps pushing it.

“But-“

“No but. You want out, you’re gonna have to get past me.” Bobby narrows his eyes. “And I can still shoot, boy. So don’t think it’s gonna be easy.”

Bobby’s eyes flick to you for a second, Dean’s follow, and you frown.

You didn’t do anything. You’re just sitting here. But whatever Bobby’s implying Dean seems to understand, because he just huffs, presses his knee to yours, and leans forward with a frown.

“Anything new while we were out?”

“Nothin’ good.” Bobby mutters, and Sam drops into the chair on your other side. “Cas ain’t made progress on God, and the angels are still bein’ dumbasses and makin’ things harder than they gotta be. We still got no weapons-“

“One weapon.” Sam cuts in, frowning at the air. “Becky told me the Colt is still around. Hanging out with some demon named Crowley. She also said he was-“ Sam wrinkles his nose. “Having relations. With Lilith.”

Dean’s brows shoot up. “You mean he was fucking her, Sammy?”

“I- Uh,” Sam coughs. “Yeah.”

That should maybe surprise you more.

It doesn’t. Lilith mentioned having her own Man of God that betrayed her, when she was a Magdalene. And a demon is about as far from that as you can get.

Dean seems a little caught up on it, though.

“Demons can have sex?”

“They can eat and die.” Bobby grunts. “Seems reasonable they can fuck, too.”

“Reasonable-“

“The question is going to be how we can find this Crowley guy.” Sam talks right over Dean, and you get an adorable, sad look that you can only smile at in return.

“It’s insane that they can fuck, right.” Dean mutters under his breath. “I’m not losing my fuckin’ mind.”

“I think it would be more crazy if they didn’t.”

“Wha-“

“Lust is a sin, Deano.” You grin at him, and his eyes widen. “Which feels like a cheap shot. We all do it.”

His swallows. “We do?”

“Yeah, I’ve found Bobby’s porno magazines-“

“Hey.” Bobby snaps your name, and your gaze shoots up. “Pay attention, you two. You can go back to cuddlin’ after.”

Sam sits up in his chair. “Were they cuddling before-“

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean grumbles, shifting in his chair. “I’ll call Cas about the demon consort with our gun. Once we get it, we still need a fuckin’ plan to use it-“

“The Horsemen are working for him, right? I mean, if we can track one of the last three-“

“Last three?” You frown, and Bobby sighs.

“These two dumbasses almost killed each other when War rolled into town.”

“Hey.” Dean scowls. “We ganked him, didn’t we?”

“Barely.” Bobby mutters, giving you a flat look, and you—for Sam and Dean’s sake—bite down a smile. “But Sam’s onto somethin’. If Lucifer’s got them on a leash, we can make ‘em tug it.”

“If we can find them.” Sam adds, his attention turning to you. “I mean- They don’t have to stay in America. Neither does Lucifer-“

“Shit.” You mutter, cringing slightly, and Dean frowns

“What-“

“I sort of- Fuck.”

Deep, long breath. You have to tell them some things. And in moment you land on just about the apocalypse. The Men of God don’t matter to anyone but you, and it will only be a distraction as everyone tries to figure out who yours is, and you refuse to look Dean in the eyes.

Same with Lucifer. They need to know he visited you. That he wants to be your friend, and that the Blue thinks you’re making things change.

Nobody needs to know about the deal he offered you. To ally with him, and keep Dean.

That would be breaking a lot of rules at once.

“Archangels sort of… visited me,” you mumble, rubbing the scar on your palm as you speak. “Lucifer was one of them. He- He said he wanted to be my friend.”

Bobby’s watching you carefully, his voice far neutral. “He hurt you?”

“No.” You whisper. “Didn’t even try to, either. Just talked for a while, then left.”

“Left.”

You nod. “Yeah. Then I sort of blacked out, and woke up…”

“Back with us.” Dean finished for you, his hands fisted on top of the table. “Son of a bitch.”

Sam clears his throat, and you can see him lean forward in your periphery. “You said two archangels visited you?”

“Yeah. The other one was blue.”

“Blue?”

“I-“ You sigh, giving Sam an apologetic smile. “Blond. He was a kind of short blond guy.”

Sam exchanges one of those looks with Dean, and you frown.

“You know who I’m talking about?”

“Yeah, Princess. Think we do.”

Sam sighs, grimacing slightly. “Remember that trickster I told you about? In 2007? Right before we found you and-“ He coughs, and it doesn’t make the ache in your heart any better. “Sorry. It’s- that wasn’t a trickster. Turns out, it was the archangel, Gabriel.”

“He was fucking with us a few weeks ago.” Dean mutters. “But us in this fucked up TV thing, to try and teach us a lesson about playing our roles to get this over with.”

“Your… roles?”

They exchange another look, and if they don’t tell you, you’re just going to ask Bobby-

“Sammy and I are...” Dean’s voice are slow, and you can almost feel the weight of it in your chest. “True vessels.”

He’s almost spitting out the words, and Sam takes over without hesitation.

“Michael supposed to take over Dean. And Lucifer-“ Sam takes a heavy breath, and it click in a second.

Oh.

That explains what make Sam say yes meant. And why you’d lose Dean if Heaven won. Michael wouldn’t want you near his vessel.

And if Dean is Michael’s vessel, that definitely makes him a Man of God.

But you still don’t know why you matter, as the Magdalene. You’d rationalize it as something to do with the Apocalypse, but everyone seems really fucking pissed when you try to participate in it-

“What did he want from you?” Sam asks, his voice soft. “Gabriel?”

“He-“ Deep breath. You’re rubbing your wrists raw, but you’re allowed to say this part. It will be fine. “Apparently I’m changing things.”

Dean frowns. “Changing what.”

“I- I’m not sure.” You twist the skin on your finger, and Dean’s eyes narrow, but you can’t tell them.

Can’t say Sam would’ve turned on Ruby if you stayed. That you might have stopped the seals. That Jo might-

“He just said I needed to stop. That even just- As long as I’m alive.” You take a shaking breath, picking every word carefully. “And talking to you guys, I’m making things drag. That I needed to stop.”

“Stop what?” Dean’s tense at your side. “Talking to us?”

You nod. “I- I don’t think they’re going to stop. Heaven and Hell. And I- I can go again-“

Dean’s hand flies to your thigh, like he’s trying to pin you to your chair, but Bobby speaks first.

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, kiddo.” He grunts, his eyes sharp on yours. “Less predictable we are, the better.”

“And you’re the wildcard.” Dean bumps your shoulder, and his grin makes the Spiderweb glow. “Told you we needed you here, Princess.”

He had.

He’d said he needed you.

And when you settle back into your chair, and Dean’s grin grows, you don’t care if he was lying.

As long as Dean still wants all the way down, there’s nowhere else for you to go.

It’s quick to make a plan from there.

Dean and Sam will figure out who Crowley is, and get the Colt from him. You and Bobby will lock down and try to figure out where the next horseman might be hiding, so once you’ve got the Colt, you want to move fast to get to Lucifer.

He may come if you call.

You really don’t want to find out.

Dean grumbles, when you take the Firebird keys from him.

“Cars can fit three people-“

“I’m aware.” You give him an amused look. “Are you going to survive by yourself, Deano?”

He scowls. “Sue me for not wanting you two running off alone while you’re being hunted by everything and Sammy’s prime angel meat-“

“We won’t be alone. And it’s literally the grocery store.”

Dean rolls his eyes, and before he can push further, you continue with a flat tone.

“I’m bringing the Blade, De.” You pat your jacket. “And Sam will have a gun.”

His brow furrows, but he still grumbles, “Fine.”

Sam snorts from behind you. “Can it not be fine? I want to see Dean actually try to stop you-“

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean doesn’t look away from you. “I’m gonna call Cas, get started on the Crowley shit. Be fast.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Dean grunts, and guides you outside with a hand on your lower back.

“I didn’t think he was going to let us go.” Sam says as you pull away. “I’m surprised he’s not like, hidden in the trunk or something.”

“He’s dramatic, Sam-“

“Yeah, but-“ Sam sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind. Do you know what we need?”

You nod, keeping your gaze locked on the road. “Everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah. You guys are really bad at grocery shopping.”

“But- We had cereal-“

“You had cereal dust.” You shoot Sam a flat look. “And beer, and microwave meals. Those are not groceries.”

Sam sighs. “What are groceries?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t-“ Sam cuts himself off with a groan. “Your plan is wing it, isn’t it.”

“Yep.”

Sam groans, but you think it’s an amazing plan. Sam takes a little more convincing, but by the time you park, he’s on team wing it.

And winging it turns out to just be a lot of you and Sam wandering the aisles, trying to figure out what someone might need for more than only a few days at a time.

“What do you use olive oil for?” Sam frowns at the bottle, and you shrug.

“Olives?”

“I think they make it out of olives.”

“Oh.” You frown at him. “You lived in an apartment. Didn’t you cook?”

Sam shakes his head. “Jess did. I burn everything. I ate cafeteria food before, and Dean had always cooked for me when we were kids.”

You hum, and you can’t let it show on your face. How much you love Dean. How you’re thinking about him—in his boxers, because that seems to be tattooing itself on your brain—cooking and grinning at you and kissing you over your next before backing your up to the counter and moving his knee between your legs-

Public.

You’re in public.

You have to put the olive oil back on the shelf, and keep moving.

At some point, you and Sam split up. He heads off to dairy, and you-

You’re trapped in the skincare aisle.

Staring at the face masks.

They’re the same ones you and Jo use. They’d been in your bag that day, because hers had been full of things for the ritual.

You haven’t looked for your bag.

You should.

The packages might have little stains of pastel blue on them as well.

“Ellen.” You whisper, when Sam finds you. “She- What-“

“We haven’t heard from her.” Sam mumbles. “Dean told her. She knows you tried to stop it-“

You don’t care about that. It doesn’t matter.

You’d failed anyway.

And it’s good Sam carefully pulls you away. You might have been trapped there—thinking about Ellen crying as Dean explained what happened—for the rest of your life.

You should have told her. You were the only person there. Jo’s basically your sister. Ellen was always there for you, and you just left-

“I’m sorry.” Sam says suddenly, and you blink up at him. “You were right. And deep down I knew you were right, but I didn’t listen, and-“

“Sam.” You wait until he’s meeting your eyes, and shake your head. “I know.”

“But I should have-“

“We all should have. It’s done.”

“Dean was mad-“

“Dean’s always mad.” You offer Sam a small smile. “And it’s not like he’s never fucked up either. We’re all stupid. Better odds if we’re stupid together.”

“But I-“ “I know.” You sigh, and a new box of cereal off the shelf. “I don’t care.”

The air is lighter from there.

But Sam doesn’t know. That if you stayed, none of this would be happening. You’re telling Sam it’s not his fault. Bobby says it’s not your fault.

But you’re different.

You’re just sick. Wrong. You can finish the grocery run with Sam and joke about how stupid marketing is—giving Sam a flat look when he adds a bunch of candy for you on Dean’s orders, and ignoring Sam’s grin when you grab three pack of bacon and a store-made pie—but you’re still vile. You’re still ruining everything.

There’s only one place in the world where you’re not wrong.

At Dean’s side.

Which is why this plan sucks.

As soon as you and Sam get back, Dean says Cas thinks he knows who Crowley is. It’s only two days after that—two days of reading and reading, pretending not to notice Dean trying to get your attention and trying to act like you don’t want to throw your book across the room and crawl into his lap—when Cas finds him. And Sam and Dean have to go.

It’ll just be a day. And it’s a day you get to focus, without a Dean to stare at.

You sit with Bobby, to try and chase off the fantasies. It’s easier not to think about running your fingers through spiky, soft hair or kissing a crooked nose as he teases your over your panties when-

Bobby grunts your name, and you flush.

Shit.

“We got another omen.” He mutters, turning the laptop around for you to see. “New wave of some fuckin’ flu. If you can track the origin, maybe we can find Pestilence.”

You don’t answer. The headline of the video on the screen is doctor explains symptoms of new swine flu variant.

But there isn’t a man on the screen.

He’s green.

But not Bobby green.

Sickness green. Vomit green. Turning and buzzing and churning like bile, like a rotting mold that’s trying to eat itself and a toxic, horrible green. He looks like he’s decaying into his own green, and that’s only breeding more green. And there are poxes and rashes and boils and hives all over him that are bubbling and popping before reforming, and you have to slam the laptop closed before your breakfast comes back up.

Bobby says your name and you shake your head, letting out a long, slow breath.

“I- I think found him.”

————————

“That’s him?” Dean pointed at the screen with a frown, and She nodded.

When Dean glanced over, She was making a pretty obvious point to look anywhere but the laptop, or the video of the doctor’s interview. But it was just an old, weedy looking guy with a bald patch and sniffling nose. Sam was frowning at the guy over his shoulder, and Bobby had probably seen it a bunch before they got back.

But She wouldn’t look at it. Whenever Her gaze would wander, She’d recoil like she’d been stung.

So Dean didn’t doubt that She was right. Or that She was telling the truth. He’d know if She wasn’t, anyway. Just like how, later, he’d have to ask what Gabriel said She was changing, because Dean knew she knew.

But later.

Right now, they had a devil to hunt.

“He’s not too far from here.” She mumbled, Her attention fixed on the paper in front of Her as she scribbled in Enochian. “That video was from a local broadcast in California.”

Sam frowned. “Where in California?”

“Bay area. San Francisco.”

“Makes sense.” Bobby grunted from across the table. “High population means that the asshole will be gettin’ more hits on whatever he’s gettin’ ready for Lucifer.”

Dean paused, then shook his head. “But the Bay area isn’t the most populated. Not even in California, right?”

He looked to Her for confirmation, and She gave it with a small nod. “I think it’s Greater LA. Probably.”

“Right. So,” Dean turned back to Bobby. “Would the great red douchebag want Pestilence to get the most people?”

“Maybe, but,” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Would he be someone on the east coast, then? Like New York. And if he was really interested in population, he’d go to like, China or India.”

Dean frowned. “What’s in China and India-“

“More people. They have like, a huge population density.”

“Well, the horsemen seem to be staying local.” Dean looked back to the computer screen, and the sniveling man still on it. “And it’s easier for us that he’s in Cali. We can go to the beach after.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, we’re not going to the beach-“

“I wasn’t talking to you, Sammy.” He nudged Her foot with his own, and she looked up at him with wide, bright eyes.

Son of a bitch, She was always so beautiful.

“You wanna go to the beach with me, Princess?”

“I-“ She swallowed, shaking Her head. “I can’t swim-“

Bobby snorted. “Yeah, you can.”

“I can?”

There was genuine shock in her voice. And Dean knew She could. They’d gone swimming before.

Something was up with Her.

“Yeah, you can.” Bobby gave Her a dry look. “I taught you, kiddo.”

“You- Oh.” She blinked. “Right.”

She was colorless. And the little furrow was deep in Her brow. But Dean couldn’t just grab Her and demand to know what was wrong in front of everyone.

Instead, he said Her name, and threw her his best, widest smile. “So you wanna swim with me? Even if you forgot how to swim, I’ll make sure you don’t drown-“

Sam snorted. “How are you going to do that? You’re not lifeguard certified, Dean.”

“Neither are you, bitch-“

“Yeah, but I’m not the one promising to stop a drowning-“

“Shut up-“

“Dean.” She whispered, squeezing his hand twice, and his attention shot back over.

He didn’t remember take Her hand at all. But Her grip was iron, and he never had any plan to let go.

He squeezed it once—just to make sure he knew exactly what She was telling him—and She squeezed it twice in return.

Not good.

Shit.

Bed? He mouthed at Her, Sam and Bobby very obviously pretending they couldn’t see, and She nodded.

“Alright.” Dean squeezed Her hand three times, and turned back to the table. “We got a plan?”

Sam nodded, dragging the laptop back in front of himself with a frown. “I think so. Pestilence works in the hospital, we just need to find him and cut his ring off.”

Bobby let out a dry laugh. “You’re makin’ it sound real easy, Sam. He’s gonna have demons and defenses put up. Only hand you got on him is that he ain’t expectin’ you right now.”

“Right.” Sam said. “So we just need to get to him.”

“Is he in the ER-“

She cut Dean off with a shake of Her head, and he was pretty sure she was going to freaking crush his hand.

He still wasn’t going to let go.

“The video said he was physician. Which is… broad.”

“And vague.” Sammy muttered, and She sighed.

“Yeah. But our best bet isn’t the ER, it’s being in the hospital.”

Dean frowned. “How do we get into a hospital?”

She gave him a small smile. “I think we’ll figure it out, Deano.”

He returned Her smile without thought, and he could see the exhaustion painting Her features. She was still gorgeous—there was nothing that could make Her not gorgeous—but tired. And there wasn’t a scar or bump or bruise on Her face, but her brow was still drawn in a thin line.

It was time to get Her in bed.

She let Dean pull Her to her feet, her body almost molding into his when he tugged Her to his chest.

“Are we leaving in the morning?” She asked, Her back pressed to Dean’s chest, and he frowned.

When he glanced back to Sammy, the kid only shrugged. It wasn’t helpful.

“Make it the afternoon.” Bobby grunted. “Need to take a look at the Colt and make sure it wasn’t fucked with.”

She nodded slowly. “Do you want my help-“

“No. You three need to sleep.”

Sam frowned. “Me too?”

“You goin’ to California tomorrow, Sam?”

“Yeah, I guess-“

“Then you too.”

Sam sighed, and Dean wasn’t sticking around to hear the rest of this conversation. Keeping his hand folded into Her’s, he maneuvered Her in to stand front of him—the more he could see Her, the better—and started to herd Her out into the hall.

They didn’t really talk, as She changed in her bathroom, and Dean debated the if he should bother changing, or just sleep in his clothing. If he changed, he’d be more comfortable. If he didn’t, he’d be able to be here more. With Her. Making sure She didn’t hurt herself or start crying without Dean there to help. And that might be pushing his luck, but he had to take what he could get. If soft kisses on Her brow and long hugs and clothed, but tangled, bodies in bed where all he was allowed to have, he’d goddamn take it and worship it right into the ground. Make it feel like more than a galaxy colliding—although Dean was pretty sure that, if he ever did get to be Her shadow like that, it would maybe feel like a whole new universe was being born—and make Her feel more important that all the stars in the goddamn sky.

And he wanted to kiss Her. Every single fucking second since She’d gotten home, Dean had wanted to crash back up into Her, and see if this time, he could touch Her well enough to keep Her. Show Her that when She had an episode or something was hurting Her, She didn’t ever have to run. Dean would be there. He’d hold Her, all the way down. That was how being Her shadow worked. When She was afraid, She just had to curl into Dean. When something was hurting Her, or She needed a job done, Dean was the weapon.

He didn’t give a shit about being Michael’s sword.

She was better than Michael.

She’d said Cas thought She looked like God.

Dean didn’t have to think.

She just shuffled out of the bathroom, with shiny hair in Her face and Dean’s shirt hanging off Her frame, he just knew.

A brief, selfish image flashed through Dean’s head, as She stopped right in front of him. One where She was sprawled out on the bed behind him, Her body still covered in that shirt, and Dean’s hands were skimming over that scar on Her stomach and squeezing at Her breasts. And Her careful hands were tugging at his hair, Her bottoms long gone as he kissed on Her inner thigh-

“Dean?”

He blinked down at Her, and prayed Her gaze didn’t wander down his body. There was no reason it would. She’d never done that before.

But if it did, he’d be in trouble.

“I, uh-“ He coughed. “What’s up-“

“Are you going to get changed?”

Shit. “Nah, I’ll be fine-“

She shook Her head. “Don’t sleep in jeans-“

“I’ve slept in worse-“

“You’re not sleeping in my bed with jeans on, Winchester.”

She’d crossed Her arms over Her chest—pushing Her tits up, but that wasn’t the point—and son of a bitch, that threat shouldn’t work this well.

“Fine.” Dean rolled his eyes. “So bossy, Princess.”

“Yep.” She shoved him lightly to the door, a blinding, sweet smile on Her face. “Come back when you’re in sweatpants like a sane person.”

Dean scoffed, and it was right before he turned away that he saw it.

She wasn’t wearing pants.

Just his shirt, hanging over Her body, and women’s briefs that were riding up as She walked back to the bed-

Someone was out to get him. Maybe it was God, hiding from Cas but poking his head up just to fuck with Dean. To make him leave Her like that and change into softer clothing, and forcing him to stare at his shirt in the drawer.

She wasn’t wearing pants.

Dean didn’t need to wear a shirt. And if She mentioned it, he’d just say you took my shirt, baby, what else am I supposed to do.

And things could escalate. Maybe She’d take off her shirt, and throw it in Dean’s face. Then She’d be naked except for Her underwear, and Dean could roll Her under his body as see what made Her flush the most. See if She’d let him kiss Her and roll his hips until She moaned his name. Then he’d trace his hand up Her waist. Pinch and roll her nipple until Her back arched off the bed, and She was begging him for more.

He’d give it to Her.

Dean would give Her anything. If She wanted to roll over him and grind down onto his cock, he’d let Her. If She wanted Dean to take over—to see just how bright She could get when Dean was trying to set Her off—he could do that easy.

He’d been staring at the shirt for too long. And the sweatpants would need to stay on—he’d worked himself up, and it was going to be a few more minutes before he could return without it being awkward—but the shirt…

Dean closed the drawer, took a long breath, and shuffled back down the hall.

She was already in bed, when he opened the door. And She’d left the lamp on for him, but Dean didn’t need it. He could always find Her, even in the dark.

She was brighter anyway.

Dean dropped at Her side, staring down at Her curled-up form and trying to figure how what he was allowed to do here. Touch Her, maybe. Where he had before, on Her arms. He shouldn’t drop below Her chest, no matter how much he wanted to wrap an arm around Her body and pull her right into his side. Her hair was falling over Her face. Dean should be allowed to touch that. To tuck it behind Her ear, and maybe kiss the top of Her head.

Maybe no kissing.

Not while She was asleep. That would be creepy. Creepier than he was already being, staring at Her like a fucking weirdo stalker in the dark-

“Dean.” She mumbled, and he froze as She rolled over, wrapped Her arms around his torso, and buried her face in his side.

His bare side.

The no shirt thing had been an awesome idea.

“You smell good.” She mumbled against his skin, and Dean chuckled, carefully letting his hand glide into Her hair.

“You’re tired, sweetheart.”

“Nuh uh.”

He grinned down at Her. “Were you waiting for me?”

“No.” Her arms tightened around him. “Yes.”

“So you were waiting.”

She just grunted, shifting slightly so She was all but curled around his leg. He could feel that his was trapped between Her thighs.

There was only two, thin layers of clothing between them. And She was still snuggling closer to his side, Her face now dangerously close to where Dean could see himself twitching through his sweats.

Son of a bitch, he might be already dead. They might have found Lucifer and lost, and this was Heaven. Her starting to wiggle up his chest—it wasn’t helping the situation in his pants—until She was half on his lap, the soft sound of Her breathing near Dean’s ear, and Her fingers curled on the nape of his neck. All Her could smell was that fucking fruit, and he didn’t care if he never figured out what it was.

It was just Her. Bright and safe in his arms, half-asleep but still giving mumbled responses as Dean spoke. Her voice no less siren-like, Her beauty still more than all the stars shining outside their window.

“Are we gonna go swimming, Princess?”

She shook Her head, her words muffled in Dean’s body. “Don’t have a suit.”

He hummed. “We could buy you one.”

“Okay.”

She was way too agreeable. And Dean would be worried, if he didn’t know that She was seconds from passing out.

“Could we build a sandcastle?”

Dean grinned into the dark. “You want to build a sandcastle?”

She mumbled something he could understand, and Dean tipped his head back with a soft laugh.

He’d build Her a million sandcastles. He’d never be able to offer Her a real castle, but if She’d take one that could wash away with the ocean, he’d give it to Her. And whenever it dissolved back into mud, he’d rebuild it. Maybe they could go to those pink sand beaches, and he could make Her the castle there. Anyway from the horsemen, and Heaven and Hell. And Dean would hold Her like this every night, and touch Her whenever he was allowed.

She’d have to want him there. And if She didn’t, he’d learn to live with that.

Until then, he’d just keep holding Her like this, as long as he was allowed.

“You wanna lie down, ba- Princess?”

“Uh huh.” She was fully straddling Dean now, and he could feel Her tits, pressing against his chest.

If She was a little more awake, She might have felt Dean’s boner, pressing near Her bare inner thigh.

There was no way he was going to be able to sleep like this.

It took slow, carefully movements, but Dean shuffled down the headboard and ended up flat on his back, Her body still wrapped around him like a Koala. It took longer to shift Her around, so Dean was more on his side, and Her face was buried near his shoulder rather than his neck.

He still wasn’t sure how much of this he should be allowed to have.

But She wasn’t pulling away.

“De?”

He grunted, glancing down, and was met with bright, shining eyes on his. Fluttering slightly. A little glazed with exhaustion.

The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, every single time.

“You think it’s going to work?” She whispered, his voice calling him like a siren, every single goddamn time. “The plan?”

He wasn’t sure.

Dean hadn’t liked their odds, before She got back. And they were better now—She was something that the angels feared, and that had to mean something—but Dean still didn’t know.

All he was certain of was that, when it came down to it, he’d do anything for Her and Sammy. If Dean saying yes saved Sam from the same fate with Lucifer, he’d do it. If Michael told him that She’d live out the rest of Her life peacefully, just as long as Dean cooperated, he’d take that deal.

If Lucifer came back for Her, wanted to touch Her or take her in any way, Dean would call Michael down his goddamn self.

It was better for Her to be happy without him than miserable and hunted with him. When Dean said all the way down, he meant it more than anything. And if that ended up being Dean was alone and sunken into his own pit, but She was smiling at someone without any scars or skeletons under their bed, then that was what it had to be.

He didn’t need to concern Her with that, though. So Dean just let out a slow breath, and held Her gaze.

“Yeah. I do.” He offered Her a small grin. “We’ve got this. Lucifer’s ugly ass isn’t gonna know what fucking him until he’s already on his knees.”

She giggled. “That’s so gross, De.”

“You laughed.”

“I’m tired-“

“So sleep, Princess. I’ve got you.”

It was a good thing She didn’t know when Dean was lying the same way he knew about Her.

He did have Her. Tight against him for the rest of the night, Her soft breath warm on his skin.

But he didn’t have a fucking clue if this was going to work.

She’d been right. It was pretty damn easy to find their way into a hospital. Sam was a patient—they’d say he thought he’d broken a bone, bank on the fact that something had to have not healed perfectly—Dean was still just Sam’s brother, and She was-

“Where’d you get rings, Dean?” Sam’s grin was shit-eating as they sat in the parking lot of the hospital, and Dean scowled.

It had been two damn days of this, on the drive. Dean got Her a soda at a gas station, and Sammy smirked at him. They got to the motel and Sam dramatically offered to take the couch, knowing goddamn well She and Dean would be sharing a bed.

“Same ones we used before.“

She frowned. “When I got the blade?”

Dean nodded, passing the ring into Her hand.

That night had ended with him knocked out and Her pissed at him. She’d left the rings they’d been using on the bedside table of the motel.

Dean had glanced around to make sure She was in the bathroom, and Sammy was really checking them out of the room, then shoved them in his pocket.

They were, obviously, a good resource.

He certainly didn’t have any alternate motivations. At all.

“Why do you need rings-“

“Cause married people wearing rings, bitch.” Dean shot Sam a glare, sliding his own ring onto his finger. “Do we need alternate names-“

“Yeah- Wait-“ She looked away from Her own ring, starting to dig through Her bag. “We won’t need to change much, but for insurance-“

She frowned, and all Dean could think about was the flash of Her ring in the daylight. She hadn’t been wearing rings in a while. Dean wasn’t sure why, but whatever it was, he could try and make it better. Buy Her new rings, or bring her to a jewelry shop so She could steal them.

He’d figure it out later.

“What-“

“Got it.” She cut Sam off with a grin, sitting back up and passing out little plastic cards. “Congratulations. You have one living parent.”

Dean frowned, looked down at his own card, and saw Dean Adam Singer printed in large, bold letters. When he leaned over to look at Sammy’s, it read Samuel William Singer in the same font.

“Your Dad’s name is Robert. Your Mom’s name is Karen, and she died peacefully of cancer when you were a kid. I went to college with Sam, we met when you were visiting him, and now we’re married.”

Dean looked at Her own card, and it was almost identical to Dean’s but only with Her first name and no middle name.

“Do you have a middle name?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t elaborate, and Sam cleared his throat.

“You just, uh, have these ready to go?”

“Yep.” She grabbed Her bag, throwing Sam a grin. “Haul ass, buddy. You’ve got a broken bone to fix.”

It didn’t surprise Dean at all, that She had these. Half the reason all Her crazy plans worked so well was that She was prepared for anything, even if She wasn’t sure what anything was. It was why, after they got Sammy checked in and the doctor pulled them aside with careful words and a worried expression, Dean let Her take the lead.

She was a better actor. And all he’d have to do was stare at Her and agree with whatever She said.

Dean did that every day for no reason. He was definitely nailing it now.

“Sam is your brother, Mr. Singer. Correct?”

Dean nodded, and She let out a dramatic sigh.

“Is he okay? He’s been complaining about his leg for months, and we only just got him to agree to a hospital-“

“Yes, uh, Mrs. Singer, right?”

She nodded eagerly, dragging Dean’s hand up to rest over Her stomach, and he gulped, forcing his face to remain completely neutral.

“It might be better if your husband and I talk alone, ma’am-“

No. She could not move from in front of Dean. She was the only thing blocking his hard on from the world.

“Unless,” the doctor frowned at Dean, and his panic must be written all over his face. “He’d like you to stay?”

Dean nodded, forcing his voice to remain a grunt. “She’s family. And Sammy signed the waver about Hippo-“

“Hippa,” She whispered, Her smile when She leaned Her head back was so fucking sweet, and Dean nodded.

“That. She stays.”

“Alright.” The doctor sighed, looking between them carefully. “It seems like there’s nothing broken. But the x-rays showed a lot of poorly healed former fractures. I recommend you get Sam to a specialist, but I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do for him without an appointment-“

“Dean.” She whispered dramatically, and he frowned down at Her.

“Princess-“

“You should tell him about the… thing.”

The doctor blinked. “What thing?”

“It’s...” She sighed, leaning fully back into Dean’s body, and he stood a little taller. “I know you can’t do anything without Sammy’s consent. But he’s a lawyer. They don’t just get broken bones like he does. And we’ve been… really worried about him. He’s been saying some really odd things, since his fiancé died.”

“Odd?”

“He thinks a demon killed her.” She gave Dean one of the most nervous looks he’d ever seen. “And he’s convinced that it’s the same demon that killed their mom, even though- It was cancer, right De?”

He coughed. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Right. And he keeps talking about how the devil is trying to take over his body, and an angel is trying to take over my husband’s, and then he told me last week that my- I have synesthesia, and he’s thinks I’m actually seeing souls. And that our friend Cas is an angel. And Cas is a great guy, he works with runaway teens, but… He’s agnostic.”

Whatever She was selling, the doctor was buying. The son of a bitch was leaning forward, hanging onto Her every word.

They got a promise to hold Sam—for his own safety or some shit—for a few more days. Just to make sure that he wasn’t a danger to himself or others. And Sam didn’t look thrilled about this, when She and Dean told him, but he only made a sour face and grumbled that it was a smart move.

“Why do I have to be the crazy one.” He mumbled. “We all have stuff-“

“Because if Pestilence hears about your case, he’s working for Lucifer. He won’t try to kill you, but he will go after Dean.” She sighed, and Dean didn’t miss the way she was rubbing Her wrist as she spoke. “And I’m probably a better candidate for crazy, but if they stick a needle in me the wrong way, I might…”

She trailed off, shrinking slightly, and Dean’s hand flew to Her lower back.

“Blow some shit up?” He offered, giving Her a winning grin, and She nodded.

“Yeah. That.”

“Fine.” Sam sighed, tipping his head back on his bed, the thing barely able to fit all his pointlessly big limbs. “I’m the crazy.”

“Sorry, Sam-“

“He’ll live,” Dean said Her name with a grin, and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Do we have a plan to make sure I don’t get sent to like, a psych ward or something?”

She nodded. “Dean and I will stay at the hospital with you all day, and if they try to move you and we’re not in the room, make a big deal about needing to talk to us first. Then we’ll take rotating night shifts, just so we’re not leaving you here.”

Sam hummed, and Dean felt his lips draw into a tight line.

“Rotating night shifts.” He grunted, forcing his voice to remain neutral, and She nodded.

“I’ll stay here tonight while you get a hotel, and you’ll stay tomorrow night. We’ll switch until we work this out.”

Dean did not fucking like this plan. It meant sleeping without Her, and leaving Her in a hospital where a freaking horseman was wandering around, with a gun she didn’t know how to use.

“I don’t need the Colt.” She said, before Dean could even make that exact point aloud. “Lucifer won’t hurt Sam, and he can’t hurt me. Worst case, we lose the trail and our upper hand.”

That didn’t seem like the worst case. The real worst case was more alone the lines of Her losing it, blowing up the hospital, and running again. Sure, there were a lot ways using Pestilence to get to Lucifer could go wrong. They could all end up with the plague. Lucifer could not come at all. He could come, and Dean would miss.

But the worst scenario of all was that Dean lost Her. Again.

Dean really goddamn wished He could come up with a better plan.

He couldn’t.

So the day moved slowly. She and Dean left Sammy for about an hour to get some food, and then they all sat in the hospital and passed the time best they could. Sam had his laptop—She’d told him admit he believed that demons and monsters were out to get him, but not that he was hurting himself, because they needed a probable reason to send him to a ward and sort of crazy apparently didn’t cut it—while She rested her head on Dean’s shoulder, and he pretended to watch TV.

He was mostly watching Her.

“What’s that say?” He pointed to the paper, and She sighed.

“Imprint.” She spun Her pencil in her fingers, frowning at the words. “I’m working on something.”

“What?”

“Spell.”

“Ah.” Dean leaned a little further forward, until he was all but folded over Her.

She didn’t shove him away.

“What’s the spell for.”

“Finding things.”

Dean frowned. “Like… socks? Or weapons? Or, uh- Books? Cause I can just drive you to the freakin’ library-“

“It’s not for books, De.” She scribbled another word, and Dean tapped it.

“What’s that say.”

“Green.”

Huh. “Why? Green isn’t even that great a freakin’ color.”

She hummed, looking up at Dean with a soft smile. “I like it.”

She was so close. And smiling at him. And Dean could pretty easily reach over and cup Her face with a hand, maybe trace his thumb over Her cheek and kiss just the space between Her eyes-

“Hey,” Sammy’s said Her name, She turned away. Goddamnit. “Do you know about any omens that are specific to Lucifer?”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, things that will tell us who he is, when he shows up-“

“Oh. No. We don’t need to worry about that.”

There was a certainty in Her voice that Dean didn’t love. And now the lines were more tension. Wired, fragile tension.

“Why not.” He grunted, and She shook her head, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“I- I’ll know.”

Dean muttered Her name, and She leaned into his side. She was tucked all the way into Herself—her eyes fixed on the floor and her hands rubbing over her calves—but She was leaning into Dean.

He was the shadow.

He was the one who got to wrap his arm around Her, and keep her at his side as She took a heavy breath, and continued.

“I know what he looks like.”

“Yeah, but he could have changed his vessel-“

“No, Sam. I know what he looks like.” She grimaced, and Dean tugged Her a little closer. “I can see him. His…”

She trailed off, and it hit Dean right as Sam said it.

“You can see angel’s true forms?” Sam sat up, closing his laptop. “Can you- Are you able to see Cas?”

“Yeah.” She took a slightly shaking breath. “Cas is sort of electric, and Lucifer has… a lot of teeth. And I can see Pestilence, too."

Dean didn’t have to ask what that asshole looked like. He just needed to remember Her expression, when She’d even glanced at the video.

Disgust.

And there was that fear again, that creeped over Dean every time he remembered that She could see souls. If She could look right into the goddamn core of Dean, there was no way she could want him. She’d be able to see the pit. She’d be able to see how much he fucking lusted after Her, how even now he was pathetic and weak and wanted Her in his lap rather than at his side. She’d said souls were made of things, but She never said what Dean’s was.

Maybe it was teeth.

And maybe She just ignored it. Maybe Dean was shredding Her apart and eating Her alive, and She was just letting him. She shouldn’t. Whatever was in Dean’s soul was a scarred, ugly thing mauled from being Dean. And She’d always thrown light around that gaping hole inside him, but he could just be absorbing Her like some sort of black hole. Maybe Dean was made of mud and quicksand, and he was pulling Her down. She just didn’t know how to leave, and She’d never wanted to be next to him at all.

But She wouldn’t have come back to him, then. If She didn’t like what She saw inside of Dean’s body. If he was made of teeth, or something worse.

Now wasn’t the time to ask.

Dean made Her take the first night. He distracted Her from the Lucifer thing best he could—with a conversation about colors, because it was all he could freaking think of—and then lightly suggested that he stay with Sammy the first night.

He was met with weak resistance. A soft shake of Her head and protest, all of it gone when he passed the keys of the Impala into Her hand and told Her to get the most expensive place She could find.

“Text me where, though.” He muttered, his hand resting on Her shoulder, and his body tensed with the effort not to rub the bare skin of Her arm. “If we gank Lucifer at midnight, I’m gonna need to come pick you up.”

She gave him an amused look. “I’m going to have the car, De.”

Shit. She would. “Well, maybe I’m trying to get you a pizza.”

“I can get myself a pizza-“

“Just tell me where you’re going, Princess.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Please.”

“Okay.” She gave him a soft smile, then walked forward. Right into Dean’s arms.

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve it.

He’d have to have gone more than crazy to not hug Her back.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” She whispered, and Dean chuckled.

“Never do, b- Sweetheart.”

She hummed, Her chin shifting to prop on Dean’s shoulder. “See you in the morning, Sam.”

“Sure. Yeah.”

Dean could hear the smugness in Sammy’s voice. Lucky, the kid was smart enough not to say shit in front of Her. Sam never said shit in front of Her.

But when Dean got back from walking Her to the car—they’d hugged in the parking lot too, but Sam didn’t need to know that—he didn’t have to hear the smugness. He could see it.

All over Sammy’s stupid face.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were gonna.” Dean dropped back into his chair, and tried not to think about how She wasn’t here.

She hadn’t even left the fucking city. Dean needed to get a grip. He was a grown man, and he would not spend the whole night wondering if She was safe. She would be safe. She could kill angels and demons with Her mind.

But She said that wasn’t working as reliable as before Jo’s death. And She’d been supposed to text him, when she got a room. She’d left maybe ten minutes ago, but it didn’t take that long to find a hotel-

“Oh my god, dude.” Sammy snorted, shaking his head at his laptop. “She’s fine.”

“I know that.” Dean snapped, and Sam gave him an amused look.

“Sure you do.”

“I- Shut up.”

“Uh huh.” There was a slight pause, and then. “Seriously, Dean. She faced two archangels and walked away. If anything, we’re less safe without her.”

Dean could, at least, agree with that. “I’m not a freakin’ idiot-“

“I didn’t say you were-“

“I’m just fucking worried about her. I-“ He shouldn’t keep talking. He couldn’t stop. “Son of a bitch, Sammy, she won’t talk about Jo, and she won’t say why she was MIA for two goddamn weeks, and then she just appears in front of me and passes out? And we told her to stay, but goddamnit, if she gets herself hurt for us- I don’t know what I’ll do.” His voice dropped, and it hit him right in the fucking chest.

He knew what he’d do. He’d say yes to Michael.

And Sammy seemed to know that too.

“Have you told her any of that?”

“No.”

“You should.” Sam shrugged, as if the idea was nothing. “She’s not a mind-reader, Dean. And she’s like, the smartest person I know, but you make her stupid.”

“Hey-“

“It’s not bad. It’s- I saw it when we met her, Dean. And I know you... you know.”

Sam raises his brows, and Dean frowned. He did not know.

“Don’t make me say it, man.”

“Sammy-“

“You say her name when you have sex, Dean. I heard you shout it once, while you were with some random girl and I was in the hall. And when you- Y’know.” Sam made a gesture, and Dean was frozen in his seat. “I’ve heard it. When you’re in the shower and you, uh- You forget to turn the fan on.”

Dean was going to kill someone. Probably himself. “You can’t fucking tell her-“

“Dude, I’ve kept that a secret for almost nine years.” Sam gave him a flat look. “I’m not going to break it now. But just for the record, she’s not better.”

His throat was dry. “You- does she- when-“

“No. I mean- Not that I know. She’s way better at going under the radar with that stuff. But she has this whole face that she makes, and Jo-“ Sam sighed. “Jo said she’d only ever done it for you.”

Dean swallowed, a heavy lump forming in his throat as the image of Jo’s broken body, and Her still clinging to it in the ruin of the church, flashed in front of his gaze.

“I just want you to know it, Dean.” Sam muttered. “If not for you, for her.”

Dean wasn’t sure what the hell that meant. There was nothing he could do for Her.

Nothing except be Her shadow, and he was already doing that. When She got back into the morning, Dean got Her coffee and did a quick once over make sure She really had stayed out of trouble. When She took his hand and started tugging him all over the hospital—looking for Pestilence while Sam called with Bobby—he followed right behind, the Colt tucked safely in his pants.

She could defend Herself.

She shouldn’t have to.

And Dean may do it better than anyone else, but he was also more undeserving. He’d still hurt Her in the past. He’d still lost Her, twice. He’d only found Her that first time because of Cas, and She’d found him the second time, and neither of them would tell Dean how. How to find Her.

How, in all the fucking universe, She kept coming back to Dean.

Dean, of all the pieces of shit in the world, was the one who She’d chosen to be Her shadow. He was sure other men and women would’ve thrown themselves at Her feet for the opportunity, but She’d chosen Dean. And it had to have been a choice. She’d never felt the pull. The call on something lighter than wind, the tug just to the right of Dean’s heart, that was always pulling him back to Her.

And they didn’t find Pestilence, the first day. So Dean had to sleep in the hotel, without Her.

It was just further proof that She should never know. The things Dean wanted to do for Her, to Her, were things that shouldn’t be spoken of.

Dean spent his night pacing around the room, the memory from only a week ago playing over and over in his head.

Her head on his knee as She wore his shirt and boxers, Her eyes fluttering and lips in a pretty pout. There had been a little sleep still glazed in Her eyes, and a softness to the way She said please that had made him rock hard.

In real life he’d panicked. Hell, even now he didn’t know what lines he was and wasn’t supposed to cross with Her. And he didn’t want to test them. One wrong step, and he might ruin things. Say the wrong shit, fuck everything up, do exactly what Dad had trained him to do and break things.

But in his head, he’d leaned down and kissed Her. Long and deep, with an open mouth and his tongue slowly pushing down Her throat until he could taste Her fruit again.

And She was rolling over and crawling over Dean, in his head. Her eyes were fluttering, and still glazed but now with lust. She wanted Dean like this. In his mind.

In reality, he was lying flat on his back with his hand fisted around his cock, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to picture it more clearly. Her siren-like voice in his ear, saying Dean and please as She sunk down onto him. A high whine leaving her throat as Dean grabbed Her by the waist and rutted up into Her, then Her eyes fluttering as he latched his mouth around Her nipple and sucked until She was squirming above him, and squeezing around him, and shit-

He could hear his own skin slapping, as he picked up the pace and groaned.

And the fantasy only got more vivid. Dean rolled Her over and moved his lips up to Her throat, sucking small dark marks so everyone could see that Dean got to touch Her, and fucking into Her so hard maybe she wouldn’t walk straight for a week.

If Dean fucked Her right, maybe She’d never leave. He’d gotten chicks to beg him for more, before. Had ladies tell him that he was the best of their life.

He just wanted to be the best of Her life. Because She could never just be one fleeting night. If Dean got to have Her, he’d give Her everything. She’d moan his name and scratch Her nail on his back, Dean would make Her shine below him, and he’d be Her shadow until she cut him away.

And in Dean’s head, this was far from their first time. In his head he pinched Her clit, and She shivered and squeaked below him, before She rolled Her hips and bit his shoulder as She came on his cock. And Dean knew to pull out so he could come all over Her abdomen, and then he pumped himself to the beautiful imagine of Her boneless, fucked-out form below him, covered in his cum and still whimpering his name-

Sammy’s was right.

Dean did shout Her name when he came.

“White chocolate, or butterscotch?”

Dean frowned over Her shoulder, and he wasn’t thinking about it.

How She fit so fucking perfectly, pressed back against his body. How he could smell the sugar of that body scrub thing She used, and the vanilla of Her perfume, but the fruit was still stronger. The fruit was always stronger.

And She never had to know how, when he had cum last night, he’d rolled over and realized that the bed still smelled like Her, and came again, barely an hour later.

“Neither,” he grunted, turning his attention to the drinks. Maybe he could find Her a grape drink. She loved those stupid things. “I have all my fuckin’ teeth, Princess. I don’t eat butterscotch.”

She hummed. “So it’s white chocolate.”

He said Her name with a frown, and She tipped Her head back with a smile that damn near knocked him off his feet.

“I have white chocolate.” She held up the first pudding cup. “Or butterscotch. Which one.”

He sighed, and grabbed the white chocolate. “We can tell Sammy it’s vanilla.”

“That’s mean, Deano-“

“I won’t say you knew.” He grinned down at Her. “And he’ll probably gonna throw something at me.”

She paused. “Promise?”

“What, you wanna see me get decked?”

“No, I-“

“So violent,” Dean drawled Her name as he guided Her to the cafeteria check-out, leaning down to speak in Her ear. “If you wanna hit me, you just have to ask-“

“I do not want to hit you.” She mumbled, rubbing at Her wrists, and that was the truth. “I just don’t want Sam to be mad at me.”

Dean chuckled. “Sammy won’t be mad at you. And if he is, I’ll jump him for you.”

That got a soft laugh. “Shut up.”

“Bossy.”

She rolled Her eyes, but leaned back further. Into Dean.

And his guard was down. He was only looking at Her, and how seriously she was taking the selection of candy bars. Her lip pulled slightly between Her teeth and Her body leaning into Dean’s touch, and maybe if he kissed the side of Her head, the world wouldn’t end and She’d just smile at him-

Her eyes shot up suddenly, and she took a stumbling step back. Her breath was picking up. That small furrow was appearing between Her brows, but nothing was happening-

Dean muttered Her name, and She shook her head, twisting to press Her face into his chest.

His arms shot around Her on instinct.

He still didn’t know what the hell was happening.

“Princess-“

“He’s there.” She whispered, tipping Her head back to meet Dean’s gaze with wide eyes. “He just walked in- No- Don’t look-“

Dean grabbed Her face between his hands, and shook his head. “I’m not looking, sweetheart, but-“ He ran his thumb down the bridge of Her nose, and She took a shaking breath. “I need you to tell me what’s happening-“

“Pestilence.” She breathed. “He’s here.”

Fuck.

The Colt was in his pants. She was right in front of him. Dean could deal with this.

“Okay.” He grunted, scanning over Her open features. “All we gotta do is follow the ugly bitch, and then we’ll get him to-“

“I don’t think you’ll be following anyone, Dean Winchester.”

Dean whirled around, shoving behind him and drew out the Colt, but all that was in front of him was an old, weedy man.

The same one from the TV.

Fuck.

“Listen, I’d put that away.” Pestilence nodded to the Colt. “No need for violence. And I’m not killable. Not in the way you’re used to. Only thing that’s gonna cure you of me is this, and-“ Pestilence held up his ring, then broke out into a long, heavy coughing fit.

Dean took a step back, kept Her behind him, and didn’t lower the gun.

“That’s rude,” Pestilence sighed. “I know you’re used to my brother, but I’m not nearly as violent. War has always been… needless. Angry. I’m simple. Clean.”

“You don’t look clean from where I’m standing, buddy.” Dean glanced down at the massive glob of snot, falling from Pestilence’s nose. “And I’d call this violence pretty damn needed.”

Pestilence only sighed. “You don’t get it. She does.” He leaned around, and Dean shifted to the side.

“Don’t fucking look at her-“

“I’m afraid she’s a little impossible to miss.” Pestilence grinned, and his teeth were a rotting, horrible yellow. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing. Never seen something so… pure.”

She pressed further against Dean’s back, and he could feel Her face being buried in his back. Her breathing sounded heavy.

He needed to get Her out of here.

“Listen, Dr. Mucus-“

“I’m not talking to you, rat.” Pestilence sneered. “A collar doesn’t make you any more than another human. But her. So new, but so, so sick. I can taste it. It’s like.” Pestilence smacked his lips on the air. “Oh, I remember this. The beginning. Home.” His lips curled slightly. “I hated home.”

Her voice was so soft from behind him. “What- why are you here-“

“I’ve got a job to do.” Pestilence sighed, wiping his nose with his hand. “And I can’t keep doing it until the angel brat finishes his tantrum. And you,” his eyes narrowed on Dean. “Are very lucky the girl is here, otherwise. I wouldn’t be so willing to go with his little games.”

Dean scowled, his words pushed through his teeth. “I’m not a fan of games either-“

“You’ll like this one.” Pestilence grinned. “It’s called save Sammy Winchester.”

Fuck.

They had to go with Pestilence. Dean had to keep the Colt tight in his hand and follow the coughing asshat to where Sammy might be, because She whisper that she could see Sam all over his hands.

“Dean- I-“ She was all but clinging to him as they walked down a dark stairwell. “I can’t- I’m going to- There are so many people here-“

“I know, Princess.” He pulled Her tighter into his side. “I’ve got you.”

And he’d never seen Her explode. Not in the way She’d described over the phone.

It hadn’t sounded like something small. She’s said animals and plants and souls. He didn’t know what the hell that meant.

Now didn’t really seem like the time to find out.

But if there was ever a moment for Her pupils to start glowing Silver and the world to bend into Her, it was right fucking now.

“Look! The party’s here!” A shorter, beaming man clapped his hands, and but Dean didn’t look at him for too long.

His gaze shot to Sammy, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.

“Sammy-“

“Dean,” Sam’s head shot up, and he scrambled to his feet. “I- I’m sorry- I swear I didn’t mean to, but they shot something into my arm and then I woke up here-“

“Wow, Sammy.” The man sighed. “Shot something makes it sound like I drugged you-“

“You did drug me-“

“And I healed you! Right away!” The man sighed. “I even fixed all your bones, and blew up the doctor that was going to try and send you to a psych ward! We’ve talked about this, I have to do this, but I really am trying to help-“

“I don’t want your help-“

“Dean,” She whispered in his ear, and he grunted, his gaze fixed on the man. “That’s him-“

That was all he needed to hear.

Dean raised the Colt, narrowed his eyes and took the shot.

The bullet moved right into Lucifer’s skull.

And nothing fucking happened.

Lucifer only wiped his brow, the wound vanishing in a second, and turned to Dean with a frown.

“You know, that’s pretty rude. I mean, if our princess wasn’t here, that would have really fucking hurt.” Lucifer leaned to the side, and said Her name with a drawl that made Dean’s skin itch. “Hi, doll. Wow, boiler rooms are really unlucky for you. First Johnny Winchester, now this-“

“Dean,” Sam muttered, and he’d somehow snuck his way back to their side of the room. Near the stairs.

Pestilence was long gone.

It was just them and Lucifer, in a basement.

That couldn’t mean anything good.

“Why didn’t that work.”

“Oh, Sam.” Lucifer sighed, shaking his head. “It’s really not that big a deal. I mean, half the people in this room can’t be killed by that gun. I mean,” he laughed to himself. “I’m not a person. And neither is she. But you know what I meant. Six things in all of creation, and two of us are in San Francisco. What are the odds.”

“I’d say pretty damn good.” Dean grunted. “Cause this is spelling out a trap to me.”

Lucifer sighed, and fixed him with a flat look.

Then Dean was flying away. From Her. From Sammy. Slamming into the wall with a groan and pain shooting up his spine, Her voice screaming his name somewhere over the ringing in his ears.

“I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you Dean, but you are…” Lucifer trailed off, and Dean squinted up to see him shaking his head. “I mean, really? Him? Are you sure?”

She made a small, weak sound. “I- I don’t-“

“I know you don’t.” Lucifer sighed. “I can see what you did, by the way. Nice craftsmanship.” His laugh skittered along Dean’s bones. “It might be a little bit of a problem for Mikey. I love it.”

“Lucifer,” Sammy was trying to block Her from view, just like Dean had.

Good.

Lucifer was smiling at Her too much. With comfort.

It made Dean feel fucking sick.

“Why are we here.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. ��Why does there have to be a reason, Sam? Can’t I just be looking to talk to my two best friends-“

“We are not your friends-“

“Not yet. Hey, doll, have you-“ Lucifer sighed again. “Can you please move, Sam. I’m trying to include-“

Lucifer said a word, and it was the strangest, most entrancing thing Dean had ever heard. It was like all the stars singing and every drop of water in the world chiming like a church bell, the breeze in the summer calling him home and the rush of a shiver up his spine.

Sam was frozen too. And Lucifer wouldn’t stop fucking sighing.

“Fine. Go sit with Dean.”

Dean tried to shout for Sam, when he went flying across the room as well. The crunch against the wall was softer, though. And Sammy opened his eyes faster.

But now it was just Her and Lucifer.

Staring at each other.

“There we go,” Lucifer smiled at Her, and she was just frozen. “Y’know, it’s not a coincidence we’re in San Francisco. Pestilence actually asked for Chicago, but I said no, San Fran. Well, I didn’t say the name, but here. We had to be here. You know why?”

Lucifer raised his brows at Her, and Her voice was so fucking soft.

“It’s a vortex point.” She whispered. “It’s- It’s Kansas, Northern Canda, and-“

“San Francisco!” Lucifer beamed at Her, and her eyes flicked over to Dean.

“I-“

“No! Don’t look at him!” Lucifer’s voice dropped into something cold. “Look at me. It’s showtime, doll. We’ve got work to do.”

Dean tried to move for Her.

Lucifer just slammed him back down.

“Dean-“

“Yeah, there you go.” Lucifer took another step towards Her, Dean tried to push up again, and this time his head was slammed back into the concrete wall. “This’ll get his attention.”

The world was starting to change, slightly. Moss was growing on the walls near Dean’s hands, and even the gray of the concrete was more vibrant.

“You know, I’m not going to touch another hair on Sam’s head, but Dean,” Lucifer clicked his tongue. “You should be worried about Dean, if you don’t take my offer.”

She shook Her head, taking a step back as Lucifer took another forward. “Please- Please don’t-“

“C’mon, you can do it- Just think about Dean in hell, and all his gold on your pretty hands, and, shit- Think about Jo.”

Lucifer’s grin was manic. She was hyperventilating, but Dean couldn’t goddamn get to Her.

Every time he tried to move, stand up, to goddamn crawl, Lucifer would just slam him right back down.

“Please- I-“ Her voice was choked, and the concrete floor cracked. “Stop-“

“Can’t. ” Lucifer hummed, Dean’s head was slammed right against something with a sharp angle, and the air was starting to wave like a mirage. “You should stay down, Dean. Dying never treated you well before, did it.”

Something was happening. Her pupils were starting to glow Silver, and She was shining with all that beauty, and She was doing something.

And Lucifer was only goading Her on.

“C’mon, think about death,” Lucifer repeated that world from before, and the world shook. “You’re so close, just think about Death-“

Dean prayed. He prayed to Cas, wherever the hell he was, to come and get them. Save them.

Save Her, from whatever Lucifer was trying to do.

And Cas took his prayer. There was a rustle as a brown coat appeared above them, and then they were gone.

Landing in Bobby’s yard.

Without Her.

Dean roared Her name into the wind. They’d fucking left Her. Left Her with Lucifer, and Sam was trying to calm him down while Cas said some shit in the background, but Dean couldn’t hear it. His ears were ringing. He could still see Her face, and he couldn’t fucking lose Her again-

His elbow slammed into Sammy’s face, but before he could book it for one of the cars, something was grabbing his goddamn arm-

“Dean, you cannot go back there.” Cas muttered, and Dean twisted with a scowl.

“Let go, Cas. I still got a bullet left in this gun.”

“Dean, you are distressed, but I believe Lucifer may be trying to use her to-“

“I don’t give a goddamn fuck! We left her,” Dean ripped his arm out of Cas’ grip. “Goddamnit, Cas, she needs us, and I don’t give a shit what type of magic she’s got, she needs me.”

Cas sighed, his expression almost pitiful, and word choked in Dean’s throat.

“I- I can’t fuckin’ lose her. I can’t. I-“

The Earth shook. Wholly fucking shook.

And Dean prayed. He fucking prayed She was fine, or he’d do something really goddamn stupid like hit the devil with a car-

Sammy made a sharp sound.

And She was there.

Just like in Oregon, She was standing before Dean with silver eyes. Her hair floating around Her face. Her every feature so bright Dean was sure he should be blinded, but he wasn’t. He could never be.

He just crashed into Her, grabbed Her face between his hand, and soothed Her back down until She folded into against his chest.

And the earth could keep shaking.

Dean just needed to take care of Her.

Bobby’s eyes widened, when Dean pushed through the door.

“What the hell-“

“Death.” Cas muttered, following in right behind. “He is risen.”

“Shit-“

“Dad,” She mumbled, and they all froze.

She was twisting towards Bobby, and Dean could feel Her skin fucking burning, and shit-

“Dad- I- I don’t feel good-“ She made a choked sound, and Dean heart was being cleaved in half. “I- Dad-“

“I’m here, kiddo.” Bobby grunted, and Dean tried not look him in the eyes.

He didn’t need to feel his own pain, reflected back.

“Put ‘er in bed, Dean.”

Dean nodded, and moved. Her sheets were still tangled, but they were mostly clean. And Bobby was right behind him, delayed only by the slowness of the wheelchair stair-thing they’d had installed.

And when Bobby rolled up to Her bed side and rested his hand on Her brow, She looked like a child. Curled into her bed and mumbling about how much it hurt, tossing off the sheets then pulling them right back over Her body. She wasn’t the violent, charismatic, bright woman Dean had always known.

She was a little girl, who was hurt and sick and tired and just wanted Her dad.

It didn’t take Her long after that, to pass out. And Bobby eventually rolled away with nothing but a nod to Dean and muttered words to grab him if she called.

But Dean didn’t move. He stayed at Her side, all night. He crawled to Her side in bed and watched Her until she was shifting into him like a magnet.

He passed out a little while after. And when Dean’s eyes blinked open, She wasn’t still in his arms.

She was curled up at the headboard, Her knees folded into Her chest, and almost silent sobs shaking Her whole body.

He whispered Her name, and Her gaze slowly rose up to meet his.

Her cheeks were stained and gleaming with tears. Dean could see the pain, written all over Her every elegant feature, and maybe this was what people talked about when they said the sky feels like it’s falling. Something pressing onto Dean’s chest, a weight that was impossible to hold, a desperation to make it just a little better.

And Dean didn’t know what to say. He never knew what to say.

But he could crawl up to Her side. Tug Her carefully into his side, and wrap his arms around Her.

“I’ve got you, baby.” Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Her head. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Her body shook with another sob, and She twisted to fold Herself fully into Dean’s lap. Her arms around his torso and Her face pressed to the top of his chest.

And nothing was alright, now.

He still squeezed Her three times.

Because he was here. Dean was goddamn here, at Her side.

And Heaven and Hell could do whatever the hell they wanted.

Nothing was going to make him leave.

End Note: Canon? We don't know her. I am God now.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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