#I’ll get my license probably in the summer I’ve got a lot of school work | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yuzukult · 4 years

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drive safe (m) || bbh x reader

title: drive safe pairing: baekhyun x reader genre: brothersbestfriend!au, chanyeol!olderbrother, romance warnings: slight rated 18+ scene, but it’s short and poorly written words: 12.4k prompt: simply put, you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for the longest time but he hasn’t seen you in a while... and you’ve grown. notes: needed something different to write :) please enjoy... i did another brother’s best friend au bc i just love baekhyun in that kind of au lmao... I FINALLY UPLOADED!!!

He was heavily intoxicating. From the whiff of the cologne he wears to the way his lips look, so tempting and plump, all the way to the sweet melodic laugh that escapes from his throat, hand on his toned chest to contain himself.

This man was beautiful—correction— is beautiful, and has always been since you’ve laid your eyes on him.

You recall those days staying in the living room until the late hours of the night; coffee table filled with loose papers and opened textbooks to cram in for your exams, room lacking a desk for you to work on. Your brother would trail into your home once the street lights turn on, friends joining him occasionally, none capturing your attention until you met him one night.

Mocha eyes that sparkled under the dim lights at the front steps, caramel hair that looked so unbelievably soft, that you had to restrain yourself down from asking him to just let you run your fingers through those locks. Jawline chiseled, cheekbones high, and ears flushing coral when he gets embarrassed—he was just breathtakingly beautiful. And when he leans over to see what you’re currently engrossed in, supple cheeks raising as high as the sky from his smile, teeth pearly white and exposed, his gentle voice hypnotizes you to the point that you almost miss when he says his name.

“I’m Byun Baekhyun.” How the hell is he so pretty? “You must be Chanyeol’s little sister.”

Your Cloud 9 experience disappears at the sound of your brother’s name. It’s like he loves to burst the bubble of any type of happiness your way. He never fails to ruin things for you.

Then again, that was back when you were 16 and he was 22. He was in college, finishing up the remaining time he had left while you were just a mere high school student—not to mention that you were also his best friend’s little sister. This time, you’re 22 and he’s the 28 year old, finished college with a career outlined for him and you’re the one trying to finish up the last year.

So when Baekhyun stands at the threshold of your parent’s house behind Chanyeol, mouth agape at the mere sight of you, he’s in complete shock at how much you’ve grown and changed in the past years. To say the least, he hasn’t seen much of you around since you turned 18... and well, he was regretting missing the glow up.

“Why are you looking at my sister like that?” Chanyeol hisses, pushing his friend’s chest back with a finger. “You act like you’ve never seen her before.” Baekhyun can only shake his head from his thoughts, clearing his throat. “I haven’t seen her since she left for college.”

A hum from you fills the air, grasping the attention of the two males. “I’ve been back every holiday, not my fault you haven’t been around.”

Turning on your heel, you make your way past them, slipping into a pair of random sandals at the front door before greeting the rest of your family members that begin to trickle in for the annual family dinner. Every year is dreadful, but this year got interesting just from Baekhyun’s attendance.

He was every high school girl’s wet dream.

And at the same time, dream boyfriend.

He’s cute yet he’s got this aura around him that just makes him so... sexy. You recall having high school friends over during those younger years and when Baekhyun and Chanyeol would walk through the front doors, your friends would drool at the sight of the boys. You couldn’t really agree on the Chanyeol portion of that (obviously), but your saliva would run rivers length long at the appearance of Baekhyun.

What was even worse was that both your brother and dad were horrible at teaching you how to drive. This was after you’ve concluded that you had a crush on Baekhyun, and Chanyeol suggests to your parents to hire Baekhyun to teach you how to drive a car.

“Dad, you and I both know that we’re way too short-tempered to teach her. Why not hire Baek?”

“I don’t see why not.” He nods in agreement, glancing over at your mom for approval, but she’s already so giddy over the moon from the sound of his name. “Of course! My second son teaching my daughter? Why would I have any issues with that? I’ll pay him, don’t worry.”

You want to die. “Why can’t you teach me, mom? We don’t really want to bother Baek and pressure him to teach me, right?”

“Actually,” Chanyeol grins; you swear every time he does it’s mischievous with a sinful plan hidden underneath. “Baekhyun is rather quite the angel and offered himself when I brought this situation to him. He doesn’t even want to get paid for it, I just offered.” Are you kidding me? Of course. Chanyeol wants you dead.

You think you actually die when you’re sitting in Baekhyun’s car in the middle of an abandoned supermarket’s parking lot. The two of you. No sign of Chanyeol anywhere, and it’s the first time you wished that your brother were there.

“Yeol isn’t coming?”

“No,” Baekhyun frowns, pulling the seatbelt over his body and locking it in; you mimic his actions to save yourself from getting lectured by the boy of your dreams. “He said he was either going to die from your driving or high blood pressure.” You exhale a heavy breath. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Afraid of being alone with me or something, little Park?”

“Uh, no.” You lie. “Can I start?”

“Sure, show me what you know.” Pressing a foot on the brakes, you push the key into the ignition and the car roars at the start. “Are you sure you trust me driving in your car? Isn’t this girl your baby?” There’s an afterthought of Baekhyun getting this car; almost begging Chanyeol everyday to go by the second-hand car dealership to admire this beauty—well that is if you consider a 2002 Lexus SC430 with the once jet black paint chipping off a beauty, then you’d be able to relate.

He nods, licking his chapped lips from the breeze that enters in before letting out a soft sigh. “She is, so... be careful, little Park, and drive safe. I trust you to drive her. I don’t even allow Yeol to let alone touch her, so consider yourself special.” Special. Can he not say such things while you’re already anxious about being in his presence, let alone his car!

Baekhyun teaches you to drive. Another great quality he has to add to the list from that occurrence: patience. He’s the one who opened the doors exiting out of your childhood in two ways: learning how to drive and learning what it feels like to like someone. It’s the first time you’re alone with him and you’ll never forget it. It only solidified your feelings for him.

And so when you’re ready to pick up your friends for the night that you first get your license, borrowing your brother’s car, your heart swells and bursts out of your chest when he approaches your window before you pull out of the driveway. Resting his arm on the door, joy tugs on the edges of his lips. “Drive safe, will you, little Park? I know I taught you well, but I still want you home safe and sound.”

Baekhyun might be the actual cause of your death.

“So, I heard you’re in for engineering? You’re finishing up your last year, aren’t you?”

You hum against the glass that’s pressed onto your lips, drinking in the cold water to cool yourself from the sweltering heat. Summer was supposed to be over now, but since you’re in the off-season, the weather was currently in its moods, switching on and off like a middle aged woman dealing with menopause.

Popping your lips after releasing the cup, you nod. “Finally going to grab my degree and get to do what I actually want to be doing.” You want to be out of this conversation with this... woman; you’re not even sure who she was and what relation she had to your family. A cousin, maybe? An aunt? What do you even refer to her as?

“Wow, amazing!” She exclaims as she clasps her hands together abruptly that it startles you. “My son would be a perfect match for you, he’s handsome, young...” Her voice starts to drift off at the same time that your eyes do, skimming to find your brother’s right hand man, and with your luck, his gaze is locked on yours.

He’s been watching you the entire time.

Baekhyun’s got a red solo cup in a hand, body leaning against the white plastic fence that perimeters your deck, hair pushed back to reveal his effortlessly beautiful forehead, and just the view of the first couple buttons of his shirt let loose, you felt your knees buckle. He bites his bottom lip in light of gaining your attention— one he’s been trying to snatch the entire afternoon. He’s standing besides Chanyeol, as expected since he is his guest, but they hang almost joined at the hip and just the thought of it makes you want to roll your eyes. But when his stare locks into yours and he mouths, “come over,” you’re immediately complying with his demands.

“I’m sorry,” You interrupt the strange woman, turning to face her. “Aren’t we related? Are you trying to set me up with your son... who potentially is my cousin?”

“Oh no! I’m just a family friend; your aunt invited me over!” With that, it only results in you clicking your tongue in disappointment, bowing to the woman apologetically. This was a waste of time. “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in being set up. Now, if you would excuse me...”

She’s probably shocked, from what you can tell on the little smirk and chuckle coming from Baekhyun as you make your way toward him, arm reaching out for a side hug. “My little Park, all grown up, aren’t you?”

“Well, I’m not sixteen anymore, so possibly.” You joke.

Talking to Baekhyun felt effortless. Almost as though he wasn’t that same guy you knew when you were growing up. The crush that had looked so out of reach, too cool and attractive for you indeed seemed like he was on the same level. Bantering came easy and there were more things in common between the two of you than you previously assumed. As if this entire time… you were surrounding him with an image of what you thought he was but it wasn’t solely who he had been.

“Ah, so you agree. You think you’re handsome.”

“Are you trying to quote a ‘Mean Girls’ line on me?” He asks, eyes squinting in your direction coltishly. Raising both your hands up in feigned defeat, you tug your lips into a straight line. “Oh, you caught me, copyright police. But I believe I merely paraphrased the movie.” He lifts his brows at you skeptically, arms crossed against his chest. “Paraphrased?”

“I’m sure that the line goes like ‘so you agree, you think you’re really pretty.’“

“Maybe not me, but I think you’re pretty.” Baekhyun grins cheekily. It’s not exactly a smooth line, you admit, but anything coming from Baekhyun inflates your heart, reminiscing the old high school feelings that stirred. “Mm, cute. But not exactly slick, Baek. Slimy, possibly.”

He seethes in disagreement. “Oh, little Park, I’ll have you know that I am not slimy; I am very much a gentleman.”

“Some gentlemen have a slimy side of them.” You clarify with a tilt of your head.

“I can assure you that I am not slimy but rather smooth and creamy.”

You grimace. “I’m not sure this conversation is going into the right direction.” Pausing for a moment, you cluster the fortitude to belatedly ask: “So, why haven’t you been around for the holidays like you used to? My mom missed having you around during the holidays.”

Baekhyun purses his lips, taking in a deep breath before speaking up. “Honestly, I’ve always had a girlfriend during the holidays. Otherwise I would’ve been over. Unfortunately, those four years that I haven’t been at your house meant four different girlfriend’s family homes that I’ve been to instead of yours.” Of course, Baekhyun couldn’t be without a girl on his arm. Just look at him!

“Mmm,” You buzz in a judging tone that sharpens his focus on you. “Disappointing. Anyways,” Jumping on the tips of your toes, you lean over to peek into his cup. “Whatcha got in there, Baek?”

“Wanna smell?” He brings the cup closer to your face, underneath your nose as your face twists at the strong scent of alcohol. “What the hell is that?”

He lets out a laugh at your expression. “Its just beer—“

“—that is definitely not just beer. What did you put in that?” Baekhyun brings the drink neighboring your nostrils again. “It’s IPA, sometimes they have weird smells to it. Sometimes it even smells like weed.”

You take a second glance at him, hesitant about trying this peculiar drink. You’ve had beer before— hell, you’d had tons of types of alcohol before, but you can safely say that IPA beer isn’t one of them. The liquid hits your tongue, barely any if you’re being completely honest, and you pull away. “Eugh,”

“Eugh?” Baekhyun imitates your reaction. “You don’t like?”

“Not exactly.” You frown, stepping back from the drink in his hand. “How do you even drink that? It’s such an acquired taste to enjoy it.”

“I guess I had a lot of different kinds of alcohol while I was in University, but IPA wasn’t one of them so I gave it a shot. Kinda like them now, not what we’re usually used to.”

“You make yourself sound like you’re old.” And with that, he taps your nose with the tip of his index finger. “And I am old. In comparison to you, little Park.”

That’s when it hits. Baekhyun can be sweet, kind, flirtatious, but one thing he can’t be is someone who could ever reciprocate feelings for you. Even if you’ve grown out of those braces, awkward puberty stages, and now an adult woman who is somewhat confident in your body— Byun Baekhyun will always see you as one thing only— Little Park, Park Chanyeol’s kid sister.

“Right,” You respond quickly, distancing yourself from him a bit and Baekhyun feels the atmosphere shift. “I think my dad needs me to help him handle the grill.”

“Chanyeol’s over there.” Baekhyun retorts back as abruptly. “Are you okay? Is it something I said?”

“No.” You reply, prepared to turn away and say your goodbyes to the older male, but his hand grasps onto your wrist, causing you to wrinkle your brows in confusion. “Baek?”

“Talk to me. What did I say? I like talking to you and it’d be nice to keep this conversation going.” You tilt your head in perplexity. “Okay. That’s great and all but I’ve had a raging crush on you since I was like sixteen. I’m kind of over this whole thing and I’m ready to keep you as my brother’s best friend that I had a crush on when I was entering the early stages of puberty—”

“Wait, you liked me?”

A look of incredulity spreads on your face. “You didn’t know?” He shakes his head slowly, gaze trailing to the concrete ground as if he’s trying to replay the history of your relationship, attempting to find the hints smeared throughout the years. “Well, I did, and if I’m being honest, you’re great and everything, but I don’t think I can muster enough courage to build a friendship with you if I still have these somewhat lingering feelings.”

Seconds before you’re escaping his hold, his grip tightens. “I didn’t know.” He reiterates your words, eyes finally meeting yours. “Why didn’t you tell me? And why are you telling me this now? And at your family reunion at that?”

“I... don’t know.” You shrug, body language signaling that you’d stay and his hand on your loosens. “I guess I’m tired of being called little Park and seen as Yeol’s baby sister when I’ve been pining over this unrequited love.”

“You can’t even say that when I didn’t even know you liked me.”

“Oh, come on, Baek,” Groaning, your shoulders dropping in exhaustion from this entire conversation. “You’re the epitome of every girl’s first crush. Not to mention that you get along with my family. Pretty much the easiest formation of a perfect guy for a girl who was just finally realizing how cute guys were.”

Baekhyun scrunches up his nose, placing his drink down on the table beside him. “You never made it obvious.”

“Oh please, I was very obvious. Even Chanyeol probably knew about it.”

“Don’t say that, I really didn’t know! I’m sure your brother doesn’t either.” Eventually, you’re able to step far back enough that he can’t hold you back anymore. “It’s fine, Baek, I totally get it. Enjoy your night here? I’m going to socialize a bit more—I mean help my dad with the grill. Whichever one first, uh, you get the gist.”

“Oh, wow, your son is... actually pretty good looking.” You’re back in this discussion with the same strange woman before, but this time with your blood-related aunt who was the one to convince the lady to talk to you in the first place. She’s skimming through pictures she has saved of him, yet again trying to persuade into talking to her lovely son. He’s cute, you admit. He’s a year younger but that wasn’t going to turn you away. His mom, however, is coming off a bit too strong and your aunt was trying her best to pull her back.

“See? I told you! I invited him to come join us tonight, maybe you’d catch him here!” The woman claps her hands together excitedly, over the moon that you’d agreed to her perspective. “Speaking of my lovely boy, there he is!”

And right when you face the direction she points, you see him—sun-kissed skin with his hair gelled back, tall as a skyscraper with the longest legs ever—this guy was built like a God. His eyes skim the room, but before they can meet with his mother’s, he spots someone approaching him and a smile tugs on the edges of his lips.

“Baekhyun, I didn’t know you knew this family?”

Of course he knows Baek.

They’re exchanging a handshake, and you’re flaring your nostrils because how small is this world? Regardless, you’re not going to let Baekhyun ruin your day. No way.

“Park Chanyeol’s my friend,” He responds, placing a hand in his pocket. “And you’re here for?”

“My mom is here, she asked me to come. Son duties, you know the drill.” The younger male shakes at his own statement before giving Baekhyun a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll catch up with you later. She wants me to meet some girl she thought was cute, so we’ll see how that goes. See you in a bit?”

Baekhyun nods in confirmation, letting him go and as he watches his figure make his way through the crowd, that’s when he notices something. You’re standing next to a middle-aged woman—and is... is Lucas walking toward you?

“Hey mom,” The towering man smiles, giving his mom a hug. “I’m here as you asked. I’m assuming this lovely lady...” The lady introduces you to her son, and he extends his hand. “I’m Lucas.”

Baekhyun is pissed. If you saw his expression right now, the smoke coming out his ears would’ve been conspicuous.

Lucas isn’t... the smartest guy you’ve ever met but at least he’s sweet and kind?

Momma’s boy, a big one at that and you find it charming that he’s so loving and caring towards his mother. A great son... however, as a boyfriend, you can already guess what the bigger fights were going to be about.

“So my mom tells me that you’re almost done school, how’s that going for you?” The two of you have migrated over to one of the picnic tables in the backyard, old and wooden yet still surprisingly structurally strong enough to hold the weight of multiple people... and thankfully without his mom. Least she knows when to leave you alone.

“Going good, I can’t wait to get it over with and start working. School is dreadful.”

“Oh, yeah, I know that much. That’s why I didn’t go to college.” No college, not a bad thing, you think to yourself. After all, it’s what you make out of it, right? “Instead, I chose the modeling path.” What. Well, it made sense. Lucas is the equivalent to a God in looks, and you were starting to wish you were exaggerating. Probably another red flag if you guys started dating—he’s too pretty for his own good and girls would probably be crawling at his feet and your level of jealousy can’t handle that.

“Modeling? That’s impressive! How’s it going for you?”

“Slow this season. But it’ll pick up eventually. I’m only twenty-one anyways. College was never for me so I figured anything else would be better. My mom always told me that I was handsome, so why not put what I already have to use, you know?” Other than the fact you wanted to correct him and tell him that twenty-one is actually peak age for modeling, you wanted to laugh a bit because he was convinced to chase after this specific goal solely from the compliments of his mother, his biggest fan who happens to be blinded by love. Either way, Lucas was lucky he was cute enough to be a model or this conversation would’ve been embarrassing.

“If you like it, go for it. I don’t see a problem with it.” A gust of wind blows in your direction and it makes you shiver.

He smiles. “I like that. Not a lot of people agree with the whole modeling thing. Even my ‘mentor’ kind of blows off the idea and pressures me to go to college to find a ‘real’ career.”

“Mentor, huh? Has he considered giving you trade school as an option?”

“And get my hands dirty? No way. These hands were made for modeling, not being someone’s plumber and playing with pipes.” An image forms in your head— Lucas... as a plumber? Oh... that’s... kind of hot. His voice interrupts your thoughts in the end, and you want to frown until you see someone approaching. “Speaking of my mentor... have you met Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun is standing at the end of the table; although he seems nice toward Lucas, you can feel the cold air coming from him. “We’ve met.” He says, words short and sharp. “Known her since she was a high school student.”

“Oh, nice, were you also her mentor, hyung?”

“What?” Baekhyun responds, the space on his forehead crinkles. “No I wasn’t her mentor, I’m a friend of her brother’s,” slightly annoyed by Lucas’ question. You can’t seem to place a finger on why he would be so... discomposed. “Have you applied to those colleges I sent to you, by the way?”

“Hyung, I told you that college wasn’t for me. I don’t get why you’re pushing me so hard.”

“Lucas, you’re not going to be young forever. What are you going to do when you’re 40? Be in those Viagra commercials? Advertisements where the elderly have ‘fallen and can’t get up’? Be realistic here.”

It’s Lucas’ turn to be upset, and rightfully so. “Hyung, you’re embarrassing me in front of my new friend. Who— by the way, is very supportive of my endeavors.” Baekhyun scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and disapproval. “Supportive? Actually, give us a moment, Luc, I have to speak with her privately.” Grabbing onto your wrist, he tugs you from your seat, and you whimper at the aggressiveness.

“What the hell! Baek, let go, your grip is tight.”

Taking you inside the house, he walks through the hallways while dragging you when he sees the familiar door that leads to your bedroom, shoving it open before shutting it after the two of you are inside. He lets go of his grip. “Explain.”

You sneer at his demand. “Explain what? I didn’t do anything. You should be explaining because you dragged me here.”

“Just thirty minutes before, you profess your feelings for me and then you’re talking to some guy? What the hell is that?” You jaw tightens but you want to retain your emotions since his were spilling. There was never a good outcome if two people that were butting heads are acting upon only feelings.

So you walk over to your closet, sliding the doors open in search of a sweater but this only makes him infuriated. “Answer me— why are you looking through your closet while we’re having a conversation?” Snatching a hoodie off the hanger, you pull it over your head. “I’m cold. And you’re the one who is having a conversation. Well, not really a conversation, more like you’re lecturing me.”

“I am not lecturing you. I’m trying to read you and you’re not making it any easier for me.”

“What are you reading me for?” With the hood over your head with the end of your dress peeking out of the oversized fabric, he thinks you’re cute like this and he can’t help himself. Lunging toward you, his hands cup your cheeks and before you know it, his lips are pressed yours.

Baekhyun is kissing you.

Byun Baekhyun, your brother’s right hand man, your parents favorite non-blood related child, is kissing you. He has to force himself to pull away; he never thought that your lips would be so soft, and how right it felt in that moment.

Your fingers reach up to touch your lips and you’re left speechless for a moment before the words erupts from your mouth. “Did you just kiss me?” He’s just as dumbfounded as you are because all he does is nod in return. “Why’d you do that?”

“Look, I don’t know if I have the same exact feelings for you like you do for me but seeing you with Lucas in that way... pissed me off. I didn’t like it.” Baekhyun looks troubled because he’s letting his hands run through his chocolate locks that were styled previously. “But I think I like you. I never really thought anything of it until you said something... but maybe we can give this a try?”

You squint your eyes at him. “Baekhyun, this isn’t something you just ‘try.’ I don’t want to be lead on. You can’t just say that you ‘think’ you like me and walk in like you own me or something.”

“At least give me a chance to make this work. Obviously something happened back there because I was ticked off enough to embarrass my mentee in front of you.” He sighs, dropping his body onto your made childhood bed. “Poor kid.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine. He needs something anyway. I heard he lives in his mother’s basement, which is fine I guess, but despite not going to college, he has debt?” Baekhyun glares at you from underneath his long luscious lashes, but it’s light and he’s not upset anymore. “Don’t make fun of my mentee, I’m supposed to guide him!”

“Do better.” You retort before plopping your body beside him on your bed, laying down flat on the covers. “I’ll give you a chance. But we can’t tell Chanyeol. If it doesn’t work out, then it’s a secret and he doesn’t have to worry. If it leads to more... let’s just wait ‘til that time comes and we can figure something out.”

You can’t see him from where you are, but the sound of his voice is a dead giveaway that he’s smiling at your words. “I like the sound of that.”

“Aw, look at that, my best friend and my kid sister. Where were you guys?” Chanyeol looks a bit tipsy with his hooded eyes and crooked smile, but he’s only spilling elation when he slips in his socks and into the arms of Baekhyun when the two of you exit your room.

“Uh, I wanted to move my desk and Baek offered to help.” Yeah. That’s a good excuse.

“Mm, could’ve always asked me. But of course, Baekhyun here is an angel and loves to help out my family. Wouldn’t it be amazing if he was our brother?” The expression on your face cringes in disgust, the thought of Baekhyun being your brother and it’s like he reads your mind when he catches Chanyeol stumbling in his arms, pulling the taller male up. “You don’t want me as your brother, Yeol, that’s weird. Maybe I’ll date my way into your family,” He jokes, and you mouth ‘too soon!’ in his direction as he gives an unapologetic shrug shared with a smile.

“Who... her?” Chanyeol points to you with his chin, brows crinkles but releases with a laugh. “No way, man. She’s not even your type.”

“She can be my type.” The expression on Baekhyun’s face was pained, attempting to hold him up. “Little Park is pretty.”

“Mm, but she’s the serious type and you’ve had probably ten ‘serious’ girlfriends in the past four years!” He exclaims as you’re guiding the two of them toward Chanyeol’s bedroom, swinging open the door. “Little Park hasn’t even brought a boyfriend home.... heh, mom thinks she can’t get a boyfriend.”

You hiss. “That’s not true.” Chanyeol sticks his tongue out at you and you get a hit of vodka coming from his breath. “I think it’s true.” He sings, dropping his large frame onto the bed, eyes heavy. “Little Park needs a real boyfriend, Baek, not a fling!” Minutes later of Baekhyun trading Chanyeol’s jeans out with sweatpants, the two of you slowly close his door and heave out a weight breath.

“That was exhausting. He does this every year; it’s like my family is purposefully trying to get him to drunk to make me suffer.”

“Sorry,” Baekhyun mutters, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “I should’ve been there to help you.” You wave him off, shaking your head in disagreement. “He’s my brother, it’s my responsibility.” Just when you’re about to walk away, he tugs on the hem of your shirt before you turn with a raised brow.

“You’re not... upset about what he said, are you?”

“About what?”

“About me. Having flings, never really having a serious girlfriend. About you, never bringing anyone home.”

You shrug. “I never wanted to bring anyone home in the first place. Doesn’t really matter to me.” Baekhyun chews on his bottom lip anxiously, fiddling with the fabric between his fingers. “I hope I can be that for you eventually.”

“Be what?”

“The one you want to bring home.”

Naeun is your best friend, biggest supporter, and also the most brutally honest person you’ve ever met. It’s in her DNA to be this way and although sometimes her candidness can hurt, you know she means well. So when you tell her about your Baekhyun escapades, her jaw is dropped down to the floor in awe.

“You’re kidding.”

“I am nothing but forthright.”

She smiles, tilting her head back in skepticism. “... No, you’re definitely playing me. There is no way he said that he likes you. There’s no way.” You pout. “Is it that hard to believe that a guy like him finds me attractive? Jesus, Naeun, hurt my feelings why don’t ya.”

“Girl, I’m just saying. He’s too hot and too much of a fuck boy... so him wanting to risk his relationship with his best friend to go after her sister... unless...” Her thoughts trail off for a moment before she comes back. “... Nah, never mind. There’s just no way. There’s a catch to this, I’m going to find it.”

“There’s absolutely no catch.”

“I’m just saying baby girl, watch out.” She’s leaning back on a wooden chair in your room that you had borrowed from the dining room set, swaying on the two legs dangerously. “Girls get their hearts broken because of him. And it’s because he’s such a nice boy about it that it makes them feel bad. Isn’t that crazy? What power he holds.”

“You’re giving him way too much power just from this conversation we’re having. Naeun, if you believe that he has that much hanging over all of us, then you’re enabling him to do so!”

“So you agree... you think he’s a playboy with a lot of power.”

“Naeun!” You holler, rolling your eyes at your friend. “He’s nothing but a guy that I like. We keep talking about him as if he’s this being that’s better than all of us when in actuality, he’s just a really nice guy.”

Naeun scoffs. “Who is really fucking hot, by the way. Don’t forget that.” She stands up and makes her way toward your closet, slinging the doors wide open. “Which means you should probably update your wardrobe too. You think a guy like Baek wants to date someone in hoodies and sweatpants all the time?” You purse your lips at your friend. “Don’t make me feel insecure about this, he already told me he likes me.”

“Okay, but what about the competition? Aren’t there girls lining up for him?” There’s silence for a moment, indicating that you’re almost lured into her trap before she sings your name. “Come on, wouldn’t you want to try looking cute for him?”

“I try!”

“Did you meet him today?” She asks. “Yes?” You respond questioningly. Why?”

“And you were wearing that?” Naeun gestures your attire. As mentioned before, just like your entire closet, you’re dressed in black hoodie and sweatpants. At least they matched, right? She grabs your hand and pulls you up. “You said you guys were going to meet tonight again, so let’s get you ready for that!”

If meeting Baekhyun required getting ready 3 hours in advance, you don’t know if you can date him anymore.

As planned, Baekhyun is parked at the end of the block waiting for you, shooting a text in your direction to let you know that he’s here. Slipping your phone into your bag, you heave out a heavy sigh of how tight this skirt that Naeun forced you into. “I thought I looked fine earlier,” you grumble to yourself before adjusting your blouse and snatching a jacket from the coat rack.

Attempting to sneak out of your house without gaining Chanyeol’s attention was hard. He couldn’t help being nosey. It was in his nature.

“Whoa, looking smokin’ hot for who?” Chanyeol exclaims with his arms crossed in front of your bedroom door. You groan loudly. “Can you please just leave and get out of my way? I’m trying to go out.”

Chanyeol looks astonished. “And with who? I’ve never seen you dressed like this before.” You push a strand of hair that gets caught in your makeup. “Honestly, I don’t know either. Naeun made me look like this.”

“You’re probably going to scare the guy away before you even get him.” You frown. “Let me figure that out tonight. So if you would excuse me—“ Aggressively shoving your brother aside with your hidden Hulk strength, he slams into the wall and winces as you made a run for it.

You want to cry. You felt ridiculous, and Chanyeol’s comment only made it worse. Walking up to Baekhyun’s car, you see him leaned against the hood of his car, skimming through something on his phone. He looks amazing in dark slacks and jet-black sweater tucked in them. He lifts his head to see you, jaw dropping in shock. Your legs were out for the world to see, shirt low enough for a glimpse of your cleavage and he can only gulp and clear his throat before stuttering on his words. “Whoa—I—“

You respond with a moan. “Do I look ridiculous? Naeun came over earlier and forced me to dress prettier, and Chanyeol stopped me before leaving the house and said I looked crazy. Please tell me which one it is so I can go back and do something about it.”

Baekhyun laughs. He laughs as if the situation you’re in is funny. “I think you’re always pretty. You just look even prettier today.” You chew on your bottom lip anxiously, shoulders dropping in doubt. “Are you sure? We haven’t even started the date yet and I feel like I ruined it.” He only shakes his head with a soft smile, walking over to the passenger door to open it for you.

When he’s sitting in the car beside you, he swears his throat closes up when your skirt hikes up in your seat. Warding off the sinful thoughts of you, he starts the ignition of the car, letting the engine warm up for a bit before driving off. The last time you’d been in this car was when he was teaching you how to drive; weekend after weekend, while just you and Baekhyun in this worn down Lexus, he stole your heart bit by bit. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation again; somehow you were the one stealing his.

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. I heard there was this really great Italian place they opened downtown. Maybe we can get dessert after?” He glances over at you to see your reaction, only regretting because you so pretty with the sunset behind you.

“That sounds good.” You grin.

That night, the dinner itself wasn’t the most amazing thing you’ve ever had, but the talks you had with Baekhyun were. There wasn’t a dull moment with him, he had stories to share that made you laugh until you’re almost choking on the pasta and by the time dinner was over, you were just glad that there was still dessert to look forward to.

“This place looks new.” You say, eyes sparkling with the countless of options listed on the menu mounted above. “There’s so many to choose from.” Baekhyun notes that although your eyes seem youthful and the smile plastered on your face supported that, everything about you wasn’t the same anymore. How’d he miss out on this for so many years?

You wave your hand in front of his face. “Baek, you good? Have you decided what you like?” He lets out a nervous chuckle, nodding his head. “Uh, yeah. Grab me the strawberry on a cone, will you?”

He slides his card to pay before you could even stop him, frowning when you hand him his cone as the two of you exit the shop. “I could’ve paid, you know.”

“I don’t really trust anyone who gets mint chocolate chip… so…”

“Oh, so you don’t. What’s wrong with mint?”

“Do you like eating toothpaste or something?” You slap his arm, and he winces, remembering that although you were small in comparison to him, your strength was impeccable. “Oh—shit, I’m sorry, Baek.”

“I forgot how strong you were. Do you lift or something?” His face contorts in pain, but he’s not in that much pain. “No, although, now that you mention it, I should probably get into it since I know I’d be so good.” Baekhyun winces. “How am I ever going to stand next to you? I’ll be living in fear all the time.”

“Speaking of, I heard you finally moved out of your parents place.” Licking your ice cream, Baekhyun has to look away or else these thoughts would creep up again. “I have. Want to come over after this? We can squeeze in a movie, and I borrowed something from Chanyeol the other day, so I can drop it off when I take you home.”

Bent over, reaching for the controller underneath the coffee table, Baekhyun swallows. His gaze drifts off to the ceiling, praying that you wouldn’t notice the boner he’s supporting right now. When did you grow up? He has to shake off the dirty things he’s imagining you doing right now.

“Here.” You slap the controller in the palm of his hand before adjusting your top. “Are you comfortable? Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes?” Lips jutting into a pout, you want to tell Baekhyung, yes, hell the fuck yes I want to wear your clothes and get out of this brutally uncomfortable skirt, but the words don’t leave you mouth and he can only smile. It’s like he reads your mind because he stands from the couch and enters into his room. Seconds later, he has a pair of sweats and a hoodie for you. Your favorite dynamic duo.

You’re barely 1/4th through the movie, Baekhyun’s arm around you with your head cuddled against his chest while wearing his clothes that smelled so good, smelled like him. This amount of comfort was never evident with any of your previous relationships, but something about Baekhyun made everything feel okay. Turning your head to look over at him, he’s breathing soundlessly as if he’s asleep, but his attention is all diverted to the television. His jawline looked tempting, skin smooth and soft, you bring your lips to kiss the bone.

He chuckles at the action, eyes down to meet with yours. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I should be the one asking you that.” He presses a chaste kiss on your lips before giving you one last look of confirmation. Crashing his lips onto yours, you welcomed him inside with your tongues knotting and sliding past one another, you hum against him. It sent a warmth feeling down your center and you wanted know if he felt it too. Pushing the blanket off your frame, you climb over his lap, swinging a leg over before pressing yourself down on him, his hands slowly making his way to your waist, hesitating as if he’s asking for permission. Hands forcing on his in invitation, he complies, pulling you close to his body.

He lets go of your lips, a lewd smack from your kiss separating. He’s panting like he’s just run a marathon, heart racing to the point that he’s afraid you can hear it. There’s a rush in him, excitement pumping through his veins and he’s never felt this before. You felt too much like home to him, and this was just the first date, how was he supposed to survive any more if you had him wrapped around his finger like this?

“I don’t want to go any further if you don’t want to. It’s our first date—Is it too soon?” He says, his voice meek and faint, the total opposite of how he usually is around you. Afraid he’d mess it up, afraid that everything that happened today wouldn’t happen again if he didn’t do it right.

“Please take me. I want you, Baek, I really do. I’ve been waiting for this since I met you when I was sixteen.” You sounded desperate, cheeks flushed in embarrassment of how intoxicated you were from his kisses. “Don’t make it sound like that, I’m sorry I made you wait this long.” He whispers before leaning back into the kiss, palm rubbing your hip soothingly before you begin to grind on him. The sight of you in his clothes brought the blood rushing straight into his pants that were starting to be uncomfortably tight.

Baekhyun made you feel like a princess that night—sprawled on his bed, arms wrapped around his neck while he peppered kisses constantly on your damp forehead, skins slapping as the headboard of the bed bangs against the wall. Soughing sweet nothings into your ears, nibbling on your lobes to help you reach your high, a hand reaching down to toy with your clit before your toes are curling, fingers digging into his shoulders while your climax was approaching. He had you in a trance, fully blissed out, and before you know it, you’re cumming, letting out your final moans and cries. It drag must’ve felt nice, because his hips are stuttering, losing it’s rhythm until he stills, long spurts of his cum splattering you walls.

He falls over, pulling you close and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, gifting you a quick kiss on your sweaty skin. “Stay for the night?” You nod.

You end up staying more nights with him.

Your presence meant more to Baekhyun than you ever knew. Those rough days where he’s at the office, he loves coming back to his apartment, seeing you in his dark home with only the kitchen light illuminating on the granite island with your books spread out with your notes and music blasting from your computer. There were some nights where he’d be home late hours and you’re snuggled in blankets on the couch, the only brightness in the room is from the television, shining on your face in multiple colors with you completely engrossed with what’s playing. It was his favorite part of the day, the thing he looked forward to the most.

The night he knew that he couldn’t ever let you go was when he came home just in time because you were taking out a tray of something from the oven, apron wrapped around your frame with a surprised expression on your face. “Oh, you’re back?” You sound shocked, mostly because you told him you wouldn’t be here tonight but yet… there you were.

“Not that I don’t love having you around, but I thought you said you weren’t coming over today?” Baekhyun asks, dropping his jacket on one of the dining room chairs. “And what are you making?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Honestly, sorry baby, I wanted to use your oven. Then I felt bad for using your oven without telling you, so I baked you banana bread as well. Then I lost track of time and I’m supposed to deliver these cupcakes to Naeun for her lacrosse team bake sale tomorrow.” Baekhyun chortles in amusement, wrapping his arms around you from behind before pecking your lips. “All good, baby.”

He doesn’t even care that you came to his house without a warning. He’s glad you’re there—Baekhyun had the expectation that you weren’t going to be there that night, so the drive home was dreadful, but just catching you in the act of using his oven… nothing made him happier. He’s not letting you go.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You hiss, eyes darting at him. Pausing from stuffing your personal belongings into your duffle bag, regret washes over how much stuff you’ve accumulated here. His place had too much of your things and having this fight alone was bringing in a lot of realizations. How could you get comfortable so easily?

Baekhyun sighs, fingers running through those locks that you had always dreamed of having your own in, but at this state, you’re fuming with anger. “You’re only twenty-two and my best friend’s little sister. There’s so much to life you haven’t seen yet... I don’t think you’re mature enough for me.”

“I’m not mature enough for you?” Shaking your head, you continue to fill your bag. “Ridiculous. I’m twenty-two, Baekhyun, not sixteen. Need I remind you that you also wanted this? I’m also not the one talking to other women while you’re with me— with me! You said you liked me. But the entire time, you had someone in the back burner, ready to replace me when it’s time.”

He says your name with another exasperated breath, feeling speechless. He doesn’t get to feel frustrated, you think to yourself, not today, not in this situation. “I do like you. More than you think, actually. But do you ever think of what Chanyeol is going to say or how he’d react if he knew? I’m feeling guilty, extremely guilty. You’re not just his sister, but you’re his little sister, which means a lot more. He’s getting suspicious of me sneaking around with some girl he hasn’t heard about yet.”

You’re fuming. Little sister this, little sister that. Every conversation with Baekhyun always seemed to lead to that topic—how young you were, and how experienced he’d been in comparison. “Who fucking cares? He’s my brother, he doesn’t get a say in my relationships. And who is he to you that he can decide yours?”

“He’s my best friend, one that’s been around for me almost forever. I can’t just go behind his back and date his sister, let alone sleep with her.”

“Then let’s not make it complicated any more. I’m leaving.”

He freezes. Why’s he suddenly so shocked? He was watching you pack your bags seconds ago, yet it’s like reality only struck him in that moment. Baekhyun reaches to grasp onto your wrist and you push back. “Wait, you’re not actually leaving, are you?”

“What do you expect me to do? Stay? After the way you spoke to me? What about when you called me ignorant and inexperienced? Too young for you? Should I list more things why you can’t be with me and for some reason you want me to still stay?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that,” He says, stuttering in his words. “I still have feelings for you, nonetheless.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, Baekhyun.” You pull from his hold, slinging the bag over your shoulder before storming out his apartment. “I have some pride and dignity. I can’t just stay with someone who looks and speaks of me so condescendingly.” He doesn’t stop following you though, door left open as he chases you down the flight of stairs.

“Drive safe,” He says softly, watching your figure make way to your car that parks outside of the apartment complex, heart clenching at the sight of you walk away. “Please text me when you get home.”

“As if,” You scoff, aggressively opening the door. “Don’t expect to hear from me anymore, Baekhyun.”

He’s like every other guy you’ve ever dated, have ever been with. This guy—the one who you’ve always put on a pedestal and admired— wasn’t just a guy anymore, but rather any other one you’ve ever dated. He’d stolen your heart in your early years but in actuality, Byun Baekhyun was like any other boy. Disappointing and sleazy.

Respect and admiration, the two main characteristics you looked for in a man, and the one that you thought had them, didn’t end up having them. Tears were welling up into your eyes as you’re driving; sleeves too long that they cover your hands on the wheel, and you want nothing more than just to speed past these cars on the highway.

But you knew better than to let your emotions run wild. Yet the tears just don’t stop falling.

Age. Age was just a number. There were so many people that were the same age as you without the equivalent amount of experience as you held. Whether if it were more or less, the main point was evident: age didn’t matter. It’s what Baekhyun felt was a constant need to remind you when things weren’t working out or when it got tough. It had been frustrating. Maybe it was a good thing to have left. After all, what would it have been like if you had to tell your brother?

There’s constant dinging coming from your bag, and once the traffic begins to build up, you take your attention away for a brief moment to check it.

10 Missed Calls. 30 New Messages.

All from Baekhyun.

There’s an urge within you to want to call him back but you know better. If you heard his sweet, soothing voice over the phone, you’d unconsciously turn your car around and drive directly back to his apartment. It’s how it always was.

But from now on, it was different. You can’t put Baekhyun on a pedestal anymore, you can’t put him as this picture perfect guy for you. He wasn’t— he was human, and that was okay for you, more than just okay, but he proved at that very moment that maybe you weren’t right for him.

Another blind date.

You’ve been on countless of blind dates since you officially announced to your family that the guy you’ve been seeing wasn’t... well, you weren’t seeing him anymore. Because of this, your mom thinks that you’re bitter and lonely, fearing that you’ll never find someone. “You’re only twenty-two and can’t even keep a man? We have to start early while we still have time!”

Luckily, Chanyeol tried backing you out of this one but there’s no argument against your mother. So he suggests doing the matching. You pray he’s not trying to get back at you for stealing the last yogurt cup in the fridge back in 2011.

Getting into your ‘lucky’ signature black mini dress was a bit harder than usual— you want to blame it on the relationship weight gain but you admit that your healthy habits have been lacking. After sucking in a deeper breath, the dress finally zips. Smoothing out the crevasses on the skirt of your attire, you give yourself a last check in the mirror before giving yourself a grin and a thumbs up. “OK, I got this.”

The door bell rings; assuming it’s your date, you quickly slide open your closet doors to find your heels until a familiar laugh perks up your ears. It’s none other than Baekhyun.

“You... look like you were standing by the door waiting for someone and I’m pretty sure I made this a surprise visit.” Peering out into the hallway, you can see his figure standing at the door frame, dressed in a hoodie, ripped jeans, and a trench coat... why does he make it so hard to hate him?

Chanyeol shakes his head, standing aside for his friend to enter. “Jongin is supposed to be here sometime soon.”

“Oh, you made plans with him?”

“Nah, setting him up with my sister. I’m free for the rest of the night. You tryna hang?” Baekhyun gives Chanyeol a dazed look of bewilderment. “You’re... setting up your sister with Kim Jongin?” He nods with his lips pursed, confident with his response that his friend seems to question uncertainly. “Yeah. My mom has been on her case lately about having a boyfriend since apparently the guy she was seeing dumped her. She thinks that little Park has some personality issues and it’s going to take some time before she meets someone. I figured I’d give her an easy date, at least Jongin isn’t a dick like the past few guys.”

Baekhyun feels queasy. Were you really moving on that quickly? It was barely a week since he’d last seen you and the visual of you walking away that night haunted his days. “How long ago since it’s been since she and the guy broke up? Couldn’t have been that long, right? Why are you guys already setting her up on dates so soon?”

Chanyeol shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Why’s it matter anyway? Jongin is a nice guy anyway and could use some stability in his life.”

“That guy rides a motorcycle and races almost every weekend. You think he’s good for your sister?” His tone spilled in flabbergast. “You don’t think he’s going to influence her?”

“She’s an adult, she can handle herself. I highly doubt he would be influencing her though, pretty sure she would more than likely be influencing him.” Baekhyun can agree to that— after all, he’d fallen victim to that. But he didn’t like the idea of you being with someone else and he definitely wasn’t a fan of seeing you look pretty for a guy like Jongin. “Well, what if I took her out on a date?” He suggests.

Chanyeol can only let out a laugh, leading Baekhyun into the living room. “Yeah right, don’t kid around, Baek. My mom is strict about her looking for suitors; we’re looking for serious inquiries only.”

The doorbell finally rings. “Oh! I think it’s for me— I’ll get it!” Baekhyun’s head pivots to see you rushing out of your room, slipping into your heels the last second with a black leather jacket folded over your arm. He feels the breath stolen from his lungs.

“Oh. Hey Baekhyun,” You say, a weak smile upon your lips. “I got the door.”

Standing at the door with a loose dress shirt tucked in his slacks, with a couple buttons undone; Jongin’s sun-kissed tan skin is exposed from underneath, hair slicked back in gel with a bright grin on his face. “Hey, pretty.” Voice deep and smooth, goosebumps appearing on your arms. “Hi.”

“Jongin.” He startles you from behind, bumping you aside before giving his friend a handshake. “Taking little Park out? Per Chanyeol’s request?” Jongin only nods, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yes, but... I did it willingly. After all, look how beautiful she looks.” Baekhyun snaps his fingers to regain his attention. “Where are you taking her?”

“Surprise.” He says nonchalantly, noting Baekhyun’s sudden possessiveness. “Where’s Yeol? Told him I’d say my goodbyes before I take her out tonight.” Saved by the presence of Chanyeol, you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Despite the height difference, Baekhyun was attempting to size up Jongin, although lacking a bit from the towering younger male. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” They both say in unison, but Chanyeol only chuckles at the sight of his two friends. “Well, thanks for doing this for me Jongin, I’m sure you made both mine and my sister’s night a little easier.”

“Well, drive safe when you go.” Baekhyun says through his gritted teeth. Words that were once so affectionate and caring now had a different meaning behind them.

Standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, Baekhyun scowls while Chanyeol leans against the frame. Jongin hands over to you the spare helmet on the backseat of his motorcycle (which by the way... hot) before hopping on. Settling comfortably behind him, he lifts up his arms and although Baekhyun can’t hear what Jongin’s saying, he already knows the words. Wrap your arms around me so you don’t fall off. Right on cue because your arms snake around his frame, gripping on as tight as Baekhyun’s jaw clenches.

The restaurant he takes you to is way out of your comfort zone.

There was a comment here and there from Chanyeol that Jongin was from old money, however there wasn’t much brought up after that. Where he brings you on your first date is evident of this; it’s lavishly decorated, dark lighting with a candle that illuminates just the table, freshly picked flowers from their own garden, linen tablecloths and napkins, and to top it off, a classical band plays in the corner.

“Wow... after telling me to hop onto the back of your motorcycle, I really didn’t expect you to take me here.” He lets out a low snicker, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a luxurious date as this.”

Jongin is a gentleman. He pulls out your chair for you, opens the car door for you, and when there’s goosebumps on your arm and you shiver at the cool air blowing down at you, he’s observant enough without you saying and asks the waiter to turn off the air.

“Baekhyun Hyung seems like have a thing for you, doesn’t he?”Jongin asks, picking up his knife to saw his steak. “I saw how... protective he was of you.”

“Eh, just an instinct. He and my brother are close, so I’m sure it rubbed off.” You lie. It’s easier to lie.

Jongin isn’t convinced. “No, I’m pretty sure he was giving me daggers with his eyes. Like... boyfriend daggers. As if I was stealing his girl or something.”

“I’m not really anyone’s to claim,” You say, fork pushing your pasta around. This conversation wasn’t fun and you weren’t in the mood to be in it. After all, you were at this date because Baekhyun didn’t want to be yours in the first place. “Hence why we’re on this date, right? There’s no Baekhyun.”

But for the rest of the night, Jongin doesn’t let it go. He keeps bringing it up, as if Baekhyun is now his competitor and they’re both fighting for a mate.

You call it a night. Saying that you might’ve eaten something bad during lunch and it wasn’t sitting well in your stomach. So much for an easy date.

“You look... really stressed out dude. Maybe we should go out for drinks tonight or something.” Chanyeol suggests, stirring the sugar in his iced coffee with the plastic straw. “What’s up with you?”

He can’t get you out of his mind. He can’t go to bars, clubs, restaurants... pretty much anywhere; he can’t go anywhere because everything reminds him of you. Baekhyun only agrees to meet up with Chanyeol because he doesn’t want to seem any more suspicious, but it seems that showing up didn’t do much of a difference either.

“Can I ask you something? And you not be mad about it?” Baekhyun blurts, leaning forward in his seat with his arms against the table.

“Uh, sure.” Chanyeol responds, brows furrowed in confusion. “I guess I can’t really control my anger if you’re asking something ridiculous, but shoot.”

“No, I really need you to not be upset about it.”

“... Uh, okay, then I guess continue.”

Baekhyun takes in a deep breath and exhales, so deep that it takes him a while to recover in order to continue the conversation. “I... Would be upset if I told you that I might have feelings for your sister?”

Chanyeol raises a brow. “... Do you really? You’re not joking, right? Because that’s some sick joke—”

“No? At least, I don’t think I am.” Baekhyun says quickly, shaking his head. “Just... can you stop setting her up with these other guys?” His best friend takes a sip of his drink, cringing at the taste before opening the lid to pour more sugar into it. “Okay, I won’t anymore. So what are you going to do now?”

“You— you’re not mad about it?”

Taking a sip of the coffee, he nods in content before closing the lid. “Well, yeah, why would I be mad?” He pauses for a moment, eyes gazing up at Baekhyun’s tired ones. “Wait... you’re not telling me that she’s the reason you’ve been so stressed out, are you? Dude, I sent her out with Jongin! What’d you do?”

“I... I don’t know.” He responds, still appalled by Chanyeol’s calmness surrounding the situation. “But we dated for a bit and I ruined it by telling her that you might not be as supportive about this.”

“Dude...” He clicks his tongue in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just tell me before? Did you already fuck up before it even really started?”

“What else am I supposed to do? What if you said no? Was I to pick between the girl I’m in love with and my best friend?”

“Baek, stop being difficult. She’s old enough to decide things herself. What do you think this is, the Medieval times? Women are capable of making their own decisions— even if she’s my baby sister and something in my stomach really wants to punch you for even laying your eyes on her, but I can’t do that.” Then, there’s a pause. “Did you say you love her?”

“Uh...” He sighs, standing up in his seat and gestures Baekhyun up as well. “Come on, let’s go fix this mess.”

Baekhyun declines, slouching. “I’ve already fucked it up to the point of no return. She blocked my number, doesn’t respond to texts— I couldn’t even come to your house this past week because I knew she would ignore me. I look like a crazed boyfriend with how much I’m trying here.”

“You are a crazed boyfriend, you literally fucked up your chances with her.”

“Which is why I think I should completely give up.”

Rubbing his face in his hands, Chanyeol frustratedly groans. “Honestly, if you’re going to give up so easily, maybe you don’t deserve her.” Baekhyun swallows, anxiously shaking his leg under the table. “What am I supposed to do? Stand outside her house until she has to come out?”

“Well, for one thing, you got her brother’s permission and acceptance of the two of you being together. Isn’t that something? Wasn’t that one of the reasons that stemmed from the conversation?”

Baekhyun grunts, hands furiously ruffling his hair. “It wasn’t only that. I called her immature, Yeol. I told her that she wasn’t mature enough for me.” His best friend stays silent for a moment, so quiet that you could almost hear him blink. “Do you really believe that?”

“Of course not. She’s the most mature twenty two year old I’ve ever met. She has most of her life together than I do, not including the fact that she has more self-assurance than I ever did at that age. But she doesn’t make me feel bad about it either; she wants me to bask in my childish behavior and be myself—“

“—stop talking and save it for her, will you?”

His palms are incredibly sweaty. Wiping the excess moisture on the fabric of his jeans, he tightens his jaw but follows with a deep inhale and exhale afterwards. “Why are you so nervous? I thought you said you liked her and were comfortable with her?” Chanyeol is shuffling through his pockets and filing through the many keys he has for the front door of your parents’ place before a familiar voice is heard behind the wooden material.

“I think it’s Yeol, Dad! I got it—“ The door swings open and the sight of you clenches Baekhyun’s chest.

You’re so pretty; so fucking goddamn pretty. Hair tied back in a loose bun, oversized grey hoodie and black shorts yet the simplest outfit has Baekhyun almost gasping for air. It makes the acidity in his stomach grumble— or his intestines in a knot; he’s not quite sure. One thing he was certain of was that knowing that he was the cause of your tired and sad eyes made his heart drop.

“Oh, hey Baekhyun.” That stung. He missed hearing you call him your baby. “You guys coming in?”

“I’m coming in. But you? Stay out here and talk to Baekhyun.” A blank expression on your face, you blink profusely. “Is everything okay?”

“Apparently not. Seemed like my friend is rather smitten with you. What’d you do? Drug his drink?”

“With what? You think I have to drug your friends to think I’m somewhat pretty?”

“No, I think you have to drug their drinks to get them to fall in love with you. He’s crazy now; I don’t think I want to be around him anymore. You keep him.” His words don’t have an underlying tone that you can pick out but he ends it off with a soft smile before patting your shoulder and walking into the house.

It’s just you and Baekhyun.

“Why’s he talking like that?” You say, ultimately shattering the glass of silence. “He’s acting like I have all his friends by a leash.”

“You have me by a leash.” It’s a quiet again. A heavy empty space of stillness settled over the two of you, thicker than the awkwardness and tension that had never been there before.

“Why are you—“

“You’re home early.” Baekhyun states the obvious, gathering enough courage to speak up. “Bad date?” Sucking in your cheeks, you’re tempted to tell him that it’s none of his business, yet you play along to his game anyway. “No... he was great. He just had a lot to offer when it came to money and I knew I couldn’t reciprocate nor live that life.” He nods as if this information was helpful, knowing that regardless of the turnout of the date, he would still be having this conversation.

“I told Yeol.” Your eyes widen; this is the most of a reaction he has gotten from you in a while and he admits that he misses it. “You what? Are you crazy? It was supposed to be meticulously planned—”

“He said he was okay with it.” Blinking blankly, you’re still hesitant about what to say next. “That... that doesn’t change where we left off.” Distressingly raking his hair with his fingers, he nods. “I know it doesn’t make up for any of the things I said but I still want another shot. I said it in the moment of panic— I had to pick between you and Chanyeol, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“So... what are you trying to say?”

“That what I said the other day, I didn’t mean it. I guess, calling you little Park like I’ve always done made it easy, knowing that I didn’t have to choose between my best friend and the girl I’ve been head over heels for. It gave me enough time to figure out what I wanted to do and... I just ended up ruining it for myself.”

You’re quiet the entire time, hands twiddling with the fabric of your hoodie. Unsure how to feel and uncertain of what to say, you just swallow any words that want to leave your mouth, not wanting to be too easy and let him back into your arms so easily. “Please, say something, say anything. I’m in love with you and honestly, I never thought I’d be in this position. All those girls I’ve dated—none of them made me feel in comparison to you.” His voice is wavering; you assume it’s from him being nervous.

“Baek, I don’t want to get hurt again.” You say softly, almost in a whisper. “You made me feel so stupid that day. I put you on this pedestal, I thought so highly of you—“

“Don’t do that,” He interrupts, stepping closer to you. “Don’t think so highly of me because I already broke your heart once. I made you wait so long and never realized your feelings for me. You’re the one that I should be putting on a pedestal.” Tears begin to well in your eyes again—Baekhyun’s the reason again, but it’s the opposite from before.

“I picked my nose before opening the door and wiped it on the doorknob before coming out because I knew Chanyeol was going to touch it. Are you sure about that?” He laughs, arms wrapping around your frame before pulling you against his chest. “Exactly what I looked for in a girlfriend. Someone who would torture my best friend.”

“I think I’m ready to move out.”

“Oh wow,” You say, slightly impressed. “You’re like what, 29? You probably should have your own place by now. Instead, you’ve been living at your parents’ house, trying to steal your sister’s last can of coke from the fridge. And you didn’t even bother to replace it!” Baekhyun chuckles at the siblings arguing, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Nobody asked you to drink so much of it. It’s bad for your heath.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t handle my hits. You want me to be weaker.”

“Rightfully so.” He attacks back, sticking his tongue at you. “Man, ever since Baek started dating you, he won’t even stand by me anymore. I felt like I had more confidence knowing that he might back me up.” His friend shakes his head. “I never did though, I let you guys just fight.” Chanyeol groans. “Whatever. Anyway, I think I should look for a roommate temporarily before completely moving out on my own.”

Baekhyun sits up on the couch. “You could always come live with me, you know.” Your older brother scoffs, shaking his head. “Nah, not after you started dating my sister. I’m only half okay with this, I’m not sure how I’d feel hearing your bedpost banging on the wall.”

“What— why would you even bring that up!”

Chanyeol sighs disappointingly, leaning back. “Man, I miss when Baek used to date other girls. He’d talk about how wild some of them were, how his flings were… he lived the life I wanted to live—ouch! Did you just throw the controller at me?” He winces, rubbing his head. “What was that for?”

“Are you seriously talking about his past sexual encounters in front of me, you asshole?”

“Okay but Baek—“ Baekhyun raises his hands in defeat. “I don’t know if I’m cool with you bringing this up with my current girlfriend, dude.”

“This is a losing battle, isn’t it?”

#baekhyun #baekhyun fanfic #reader x baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo #exo fanfic #exo fics #baekhyun & reader #baekhyun&reader #exo smut #baekhyun smut #gyukultfics

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starlightrows · 3 years

Text

Something Sweet

Chapter 1 - Spring Festival Funnel Cakes

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Series Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: None!

Summary: Spring has sprung and business is booming and the community is celebrating with a weekend long festival... that you get to spend attending a vendors booth next to the handsome baker from down the street

The depths of winter in a place where it snows is not the ideal time to be moving your whole life and business. But you didn’t have much of a choice, you had already gotten the business license taken care of, the storefront purchased, and suppliers lined up. And with the lease on your apartment being up, it’s now or never. So with a small moving truck full of your belongings all packed up, you set off towards the city to finally chase your dream of opening a flower shop.

Your new apartment is nice, a bit smaller than your previous one but that comes with living alone in the city on a tight budget. But still it’s a one bedroom and it’s enough for just you. The storefront is beautiful. It’s located downtown in what you had assumed was a historic district of the city, but somehow is not classified as such. The buildings are lovely red brick exterior with large open windows for passers by to peek in, with quaint awnings over every door. Your store is located on the corner, with plenty of space to set up floral displays and hang potted plants in the windows. Come spring time this is going to be amazing, and beautiful and everything you dreamed of. You just hoped that others would think so too and come shop there.

By the time mid February rolls around there is still snow in the mountains, and the occasional rain and snow storm that blows through the area but it’s not as bad as when you first moved. Your apartment is coming along nicely, and your store is looking pretty good as well. You’re hoping to open by March 1st, but that’s still two and half weeks away. You’ve got plenty of time to finish painting, assembling shelves, figuring out how to want to arrange your displays, and set up the black board you’re planning to use to decorate the wall behind the checkout counter. You thought it might be fun to use chalk paint to decorate it for the various seasons, write specials, and do holiday countdowns.

You’re a little frustrated with yourself that you weren’t able to get everything in order to be open this weekend. Valentine’s Day is the prime time of the year for a flower and botanical shop. But spring is coming and that means birthdays, weddings, prom season, graduations, date nights, Mother’s Day and spring decorating! But for today it’s just you, a pair of worn overalls and a sweater, and a little can of paint for detailing the floor boards inside the shop. No flowers or valentines dates for you this year. You did see that there was a nice looking bakery a little ways down the street, maybe you could pick up a little treat for after dinner or some nice bread for making fancy toast.

Just the thought of it makes your mouth water, and your tummy rumble. Maybe you could make it an afternoon snack instead. You cap the lid to the paint bucket, and wash off your hands in the sink in the back. It’s not actively snowing but it is freezing outside, so you pull your jacket on over your sweater and lock the shop up behind you. You steal a quick glance at it, admiring how well it’s coming along, before you tuck your hands into your pockets and make your way down the street to the bakery.

It’s getting on in the afternoon, and the bakery isn’t very busy at the moment. But you’ve seen the lines in the morning when the bread is fresh out of the ovens, hopefully there will be something left for you.

You pull the door to the bakery open and step inside, glancing up at the sound of the tinkling bell that alerts the man behind the counter to your presence. He’s probably the tallest, broadest, burliest man you’ve ever seen; and then he smiles at you. It’s a smile that takes up his whole face, and lights up his eyes.

“Hey, welcome in” his voice is deep and sweet. You can literally feel your heart skip a beat and you almost forget why you came in here.

“Hi, I was hoping you might have some pastries or baguettes” you say, approaching the counter. He seems to blank out for a second, because he doesn’t answer you immediately.

“Uh- no sorry no pastries. But I do have a couple of French baguettes left,” he says. You’re a little disappointed about the pastries, perhaps you needed to come in earlier in the day. He pulls a baguette from the bread counter and offers it to you in a long parchment bag.

While he rings up your bread, you take the time to look around at his displays and other breads. “What’s your specialty?” You find yourself asking, thoroughly impressed with the wide variety he has to offer.

“I’m really proud of my ciabatta rolls,” he says earnestly “but I’ve been working on a new roasted tomato and herb crusted bread that excited about,”

You smile at his enthusiasm, it’s great to see people who are passionate about their craft. “I’ll have to come back and try it when you’ve got it figured out,”

You thank the kind man, and step back out into the cold to make your way back to your shop. Instantly you regret not asking for his name, but then again he just works down the street you’ll find out eventually.

———

February passed by in an overcast and sometimes snowy daze. You are able to meet your deadline and open your new store on March 1st. It’s finally a little sunnier on your opening weekend and just that simple fact has people outside and milling about. People are anxious to usher in spring, and there is no better way to brighten up the tail end of winter than by having fresh flowers, lush green house plants and aesthetically pleasing succulents around to decorate your space. Your entire store front is practically picked bare by the end of your first day! Good thing you get fresh deliveries every day, and have a fully stocked back room to replace all your wares for tomorrow.

Business slows down just a touch, but you’ve still got steady foot traffic for most of the day all through the spring. The weather is warming up, and the days are getting longer. Prom season is coming up and you’ve already pre cutting ribbon and bulk ordering corsage boxes. Graduations will be coming up soon too, you make sure to mark on your calendar when the local schools ceremonies are so you can have bouquets and lei ready in time.

One warm afternoon in April it’s a little slow and you’ve already swept the store, washed the windows inside and out, and potted 15 new plants in the back; so you take a well deserved break by standing behind the counter and reading a book. The bell on the door chimes and you look up to see a woman wearing jeans and a polo shirt with the city logo embroidered on the chest.

“Hi my name is Jennifer I’m with the city’s Parks and Recreation department,” she introduces herself and offers her hand to shake. You smile and accept her hand, giving your name as well.

“I’m stopping by all the local businesses to give you this” she hands you a flyer “the city’s annual spring festival is coming up at the end of May. Traditionally we bring in food trucks and invite arts and crafts vendors from the area to come sell their pieces and get some exposure, in the last couple years we’ve been expanding it to other local businesses too. There’s more information on the website to sign up to get you a booth if you’re interested. I think having a plants and flowers booth would be perfect for the spring festival”

She stays to chat about the festival for a couple minutes describing how fun it is to see all the local artists showing their craft, children getting their faces painted, live music, picnicking, and coming together as a community to celebrate the change in seasons.

“This city really comes alive at community events,” she tells you “Free concerts in the park in the summer, cultural learning events, fun runs, around the holidays we have a big Christmas tree lighting ceremony and winter carnival, don’t even get me started on how much this city goes all out for Halloween!”

Jennifir leaves after another couple minutes of excited chatter about the various events put on by the city, and continues on down the street to invite your business neighbors to attend the festival as vendors too. The whole interaction leaves you thrilled at the opportunity to advertise your business, make some more money for the shop, and be part of the community! Your long forgotten book is tucked away in favor of pulling out your laptop to register yourself with the city planning committee to participate in the festival.

The next few weeks you work extra hard to get through prom season, and put in more hours than usual to get everything prepared for graduations as well. The days tick by in May. Mother’s Day is an amazing weekend, you put up a temporary photo shoot wall for mom’s, daughters, grandmothers, or really anyone to come in and take a picture with a flower wall backdrop. Another amazing success full of happy smiling people!

Finally the weekend of the festival arrives, people from the city have been cleaning up the park and working their tails off to get everything perfect for the event. A massive stage is erected in the park, the usual parking lots are lined with enclosed pop up tents for the vendors selling hot foods, extra trash cans are placed everywhere, and early Saturday morning the local businesses are arriving with their SUV’s and vans full of goods to set up their tables.

You are among that crowd. Busily working to get your table set up under a pop up tent for shade, your flowers and potted plants ready for display, making sure you have enough cash for making change in transactions, and cardboard boxes to help people carry their new plant babies home with them.

All around you other local businesses are setting up their booths too. You recognize a few of them that you’ve visited already, but you’re looking forward to seeing more of them. Beside you, you absolutely recognize the tall, broad, and exceptionally handsome man that owns the bakery down the street from you. Spending the whole weekend stuck next to eye candy, and artisan bread… even if you didn’t sell a single flower this weekend at least you’d have a good view.

The morning is warming up, people will be arriving soon, your coffee long since gone. You steal a glance over at the man carefully arranging his bread displays. He glances over at you too, and grins at catching you staring.

“Morning,” he says cheekily

“Good morning,” you reply, going a bit warm in the cheeks.

“Flower booth for a spring festival? I think you’re in the running for making the most profit this weekend,” he jokes looking at your pretty flower displays and cute potted plants. You laughed a little and eyed his selection of breads hungrily

“I dunno, people don’t want to carry around a heavy plant all day. But they do want to snack on some delicious bread,”

He laughs, and extends a hand to introduce himself. “I’m Paz by the way,”

You shake his large hand and tell him your name as well. It’s a firm handshake, worn hands and strong forearms presumably from kneading bread dough. The thought makes your tummy flutter, and your heartbeat quicken.

And so it begins. The two of you pull up chairs at the edges of your pop up tents, and spend the whole day laughing, talking, interacting with customers and making sales. At the end of the first day, he sends you home with a loaf of bread with Asiago cheese baked into the top, and you gift him a pretty green succulent and promise him they are almost impossible to screw up taking care of.

The second day of the festival is much the same, except this time he brings you a breakfast sandwich he prepared ahead of time.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I need a taste tester. I’ve been thinking about expanding my menu to add breakfast sandwiches,” he tells you with a shy smile. You gladly accept the sandwich and have to control yourself not to make embarrassing noises when you taste it.

“You made this from scratch?” You ask, taking another bite

“Well I made the bun,” he says, unwrapping his own homemade breakfast sandwich

“If you start selling this, I promise you’ll put places like Starbucks out of business,” you tell him “honestly, I’m gonna have to start coming down there every morning before I open,”

In his head, Paz thinks that would be an absolute dream to have you come see him everyday. But that’s not the kind of thing you tell someone you met 24 hours ago, so he settles for something else instead

“How far is your shop? Maybe you can have your breakfast delivered,”

“You didn’t know?” You ask “I just opened my shop on the far corner of the street your bakery is on. I actually came in to try your bread a couple months ago,”

Paz is a little embarrassed, he knew a business moved in down there but had no idea it was your flower shop. “No way! I remember you coming in to the bakery, but I had no idea you worked down the street,”

“To be fair the store wasn’t open yet, and I somehow managed to forget to introduce myself,” you tell him.

Just like the day before, the two of you spend the day laughing and chatting in between greeting customers and promoting your respective businesses.

In the early afternoon a man with shaggy dark hair, sun glasses, tattoos and a very cute little boy wearing a green bucket hat came over and started making conversation with Paz. He glanced over at you.

“Have you met Din yet?” Paz asks you “He owns the tattoo parlor across from the bakery,”

You smile and shake his hand, you see his little boy eyeing your selection of plants. “Do you want to pick one out buddy?” You ask the little boy, he nods enthusiastically and chooses a little pot with the beginnings of a strawberry plant in it.

“Shorty and I were just gonna go grab some funnel cake before we head home for nap, I just stopped by to see if you wanted some,” Din says

“Yeah, that would be great!” Paz says.

Din turns to you, and extends the same offer. You politely decline, claiming there’s no way you’d ever finish one on your own.

“You can split one with me,” Paz beams. Din nods and leads his son off into the crowd to acquire the sweet treats.

“I can’t believe you haven’t met everyone yet,” Paz says “We all get together on Tuesday nights after hours for beers,”

“Who is we exactly?” You ask, sitting back down in the folding chair the festival committee had generously provided.

“Most of the shop owners on our street, and a couple of others from around the corner. They actually convinced me to move out here and start my business a couple years ago,”

“I had no idea there was such a community amongst the business owners around here,” you admit.

“You’ve gotta come meet everyone next week,” he insists “You’ll fit right in!”

Your heart warms at the sentiment. One of your big fears moving to the city was not knowing anyone and struggling to find a new group of friends. This could be promising!

Din and his son make their way back and come sit behind the tables with you and Paz. You and Paz do split the funnel cake, and have a grand time chatting with Din and his little boy.

“You’re telling me you’ve been in business for three months and haven’t been dragged into the group? You’ve gotta start coming to Tuesday night drinks,” Din laughs

“So I’ve been told. I think you boys have convinced me, I’ll be there on Tuesday,” you laugh. Paz and Din give a little cheer.

“Everyone will be so excited to meet you! But until then I think the little stinker needs to get home for a nap,” Din says scoops up his sleepy son who’s been dozing in his dad’s lap for the last 15 minutes “I’ll see you Tuesday,”

Din gives a one handed wave and disappears back into the crowd.

The remainder of the afternoon is a bit slower, the last remaining festival

“I’ll come down and pick you up so you don’t have to show up on your own,” Paz offers “Besides I need to check out your shop!”

“Awe! Thank you, that would be great!” You reply, a subtle warmth blooming in your cheeks at the thought of him coming to visit your shop.

Your heart does somersaults in your chest. He’s so sweet and kind. And he’s inviting you to be part of his friend group. That has to be a good sign, right?

Taglist: @maybege @gallowsjoker @simping-for-clones @mxndoscyarika @hayley-the-comet

AN: This whole story, but this chapter specifically is very special to me. The city this story takes place in is based off of the two cities I have lived in, in my life. I grew up going to festival that takes place in late spring, that’s really important to the town I was born and grew up in... and the new city that I moved to as an adult is known for its public markets on Saturday’s where local vendors sell their flowers and their baked goods. I am just days away from moving back to my home city (temporarily) and due to covid I didn’t have the opportunity to attend the public market the last two years in a row. I don’t know if I’ll get to participate in the spring festival in my hometown this year.

#Star Wars #The Mandalorian #Paz Vizsla #Paz Vizsla x reader #Modern AU #Pastry Chef!Paz #Bakery AU #Flower Shop AU #Paz Viszla #Paz Viszla x reader #Something Sweet

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omi9iri · 4 years

Text

sequel: GETAWAY CAR

“So you’ll teach me?”

Your eyes widen in surprise beside him. He smirks. You’ve been asking him for a while now, but his schedules been busy, leaving your request ignored.

“Only if you promise me something.”

You perk up. “What?”

“When you pass,” You watch the street light go from green to red. The car stops. His fingers tilt your head towards him and he leans in to kiss you. The kiss feels a lot like the sunshine that’s peering through the window of the passenger’s seat. “You make my house your first destination.”

You’re in the driver’s seat for the first time and you find yourself breaking the promise.

The freedom that came with the thin, plastic card had been long-awaited. You were supposed to be relieved, satisfied, happy. Yet, even as you hold between your fingers, examining its bolded features, you were still yearning for something else.

You tell yourself it’s not your fault, you didn’t want to break it, it’s because he had broken a promise first.

A promise of —

“—Forever?”

You ask him, not hearing what he said the first time. Somehow the conversation shifted from ring pops to this.

He hums in agreement, his thumb rubbing soft circles into the skin of your thigh. “Forever.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like it isn’t a huge commitment for two naive high schoolers, like the idea of being with you, out of all people, was something he never had to think twice about.

“That’s a long time.”

He chuckles and takes his hand off to ruffle your hair. “Yeah and I’ll be here.”

He breaks it when you wear forever on your sleeve and he starts to hide it under his. It’s there even after he broke up with you over the phone, talking about it won’t work with all this distance. But you’re sure that’s not the whole reason, because you didn’t miss the secret glances he shared with her. You didn’t miss when he killed a spike and turned to her cheery voice instead of yours. And when he went off for college, you didn’t miss how they had grown closer as the two of you grew apart.

You’re a graduate now, but you feel like a fool. Your third year went by in a haze since you hadn’t even tried to go out without the force of your friends. Why were you so content staying heartbroken? Maybe it’s because you’re hoping he’ll come back and mend you. Maybe it’s because when he said his always and forevers, you believed it more than he did.

“You’re coming to the dinner party tonight right?” Kenma’s voice through the bluetooth speaker draws you out of your thoughts and you drop the card into the confines of your cup holder.

You smile faintly. “Nah. I’ll probably just sulk if I go. It’s all I’ve done this summer.” You’ll probably do more than sulk if Kuroo’s showing up with her.

His voice is nonchalant when he retorts, “You’ll get over it. You always do. So... stop talking about it.”

The smile on your face threatens to grow as you dwell on the subtle words of comfort. You’ll miss Kenma when you leave. He’s been there to let you vent about your school problems, home problems, and to his annoyance, boy problems, all from his player 2 console.

“Ah, don’t worry. I’m done now.”

Your call ends and the moon becomes your new friend as you make your way around your old block. All of a sudden, your mind is rerunning every kiss, every fight, every sorry and i love you. You pass the sidewalks you guys used to walk to school and back and you remember when he’d walk on the outer side and tell you, it’s safer. You remember how euphoric it felt to laugh over the music on the radio and to sing at the top of your lungs to it after.

And, god, it hurts. It hurts knowing that he’s perfectly fine with her in his arms instead of you. But, you’ve cried enough these past few months to know that it doesn’t change anything.

So, you enjoy the moon’s glimmering smile over your city as you pass by his street for the last time and make your way foward for the first time.

》 BACK TO MASTERLIST

A/N : i got this idea from tiktok user @daiansimpsfor2d!! ❤️ almost cried while writing this😀 i wanna dedicate this first kuroo fic to @neoheros — youre my fav kuroo writer i always go back to ur masterlist and binge ur fics😭

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robinrunsfiction · 3 years

Text

It’s A Love Story - Part 1

(YN) was sitting at the kitchen table working on her algebra homework when the music that had been coming from the garage for hours finally stopped. A few minutes later five sweaty teenage boys burst through the door.

"You guys are finally starting to sound good," she complimented, albeit slightly sarcastically.

"Thanks kid," Gerard said, ruffling her hair with his sweaty hand.

"Ew get off me," she whined, swatting at him. "And don't call me that."

"Gerard, don't pick on your sister," their mom said, walking into the kitchen. “Ray, Frankie, Bob, would you boys like to stay for dinner?”

“I told my mom I’d be home for dinner tonight, thanks anyway. I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow,” Ray answered with a wave before heading for the door.

"He's my ride," Bob mumbled, following him out.

“Frankie?”

“I’d love to, Mrs. Way,” Frank replied overly sweetly. Gerard and Mikey rolled their eyes as (YN) tried to stifle a giggle.

Frank had been in the same kindergarten class as (YN) and Mikey, and they quickly became friends. They all grew up together, playing in imaginary worlds with Mikey and (YN)'s older brother Gerard and his friend Ray. Even though she was the only girl in their group, (YN) was never made to feel like the odd one out or forced to play the damsel in distress.

Eventually playing make believe gave way to only slightly more realistic pursuits when the boys started their band. Having absolutely no desire to be on stage, (YN) turned her attention toward her interest in fashion and design. She spent hours sketching haute couture gowns and jewelry she could only dream of one day making and wearing.

"Hey Frank, did you start the algebra homework yet?" (YN) asked as the family, plus Frank, sat down at the dinner table.

"Yea I got it done in study hall, do you need help?"

"Yea, I'm stuck on a few on problems."

"It's only the second week of school, you're not falling behind already are you?" Her mom asked.

"No," (YN) mumbled, turning her attention toward her plate, pushing the food around with her fork.

"Are things alright? You've seemed out of sorts when you got home the last few days.”

(YN) looked toward her brothers, who tried to avoid her eye. "It's nothing," she mumbled.

Luckily the boys started talking about the band, and (YN) was relieved to have the attention pulled off of her. Ironically, that seemed to be the theme of her sophomore year.

The trouble began the week before the new school year began. Her friend Christine lived in a massive house with a beautiful pool and backyard, so she had invited a ton of kids from school over for an end of the summer pool party. The event was such a big deal, there were even upperclassmen besides her older brother attending.

(YN) found a lounge chair to relax in while she waited for more of her friends to arrive. She pulled off her t-shirt and draped it neatly over the back of the chair and when she turned back around she noticed a few guys looking her way, but she didn't pay them much mind. She had just settled in, eyes closed, when a shadow blocked out the sun

"Hey (YN)," she heard someone say.

"Oh, hey Adam, what's up?" She said when she opened her eyes. Adam was in Gerard's grade, and he hadn't really talked to her much before, especially if it meant having to go out of his way to do so.

"Nothin much. You're gonna be a sophomore next year right?"

"Umm, yea."

"That's cool,” he nodded. “Getting your driver's license soon?"

"Yea, me and Mikey both got our tests scheduled on September 12th, right after our birthday," she grinned.

"Nice, so you're gonna be running wild all over town?"

(YN) burst out laughing at the absurdity of the question. "I doubt it, I'm not the wild type."

"Aw, come on, I bet you could be if you tried," he laughed, leaning down so he was looking in her eyes. "I was wondering, have you ever-"

"Lazzara!" Gerard shouted, cutting him off. Both (YN) and Adam looked over at Gerard who had a strange expression on his face. She wasn’t sure what the look was exactly, but (YN) was certain she’d never seen him like that before and it was a little scary

"I'll be right back," Adam said with a sly smile and a wink before walking off.

It took a while, but eventually (YN) was certain that Adam was not coming back. In fact she didn't see him at the party at all after that. However she really didn't mind, because shortly after Adam disappeared Frank arrived and sat down on the lounge chair next to her.

"Sup? Soda?" He said, offering her a can.

"Ooh, yes please," she nodded, taking the beverage from him.

"Hey (YN), did you bring sunscreen?" Mikey asked, seeming to appear out of thin air behind them.

"No, and that reminds me I forgot to put any on too. I hope I don't burn," she grimaced, exchanging looks with Frank and her brother.

"You should cover up then," Mikey said, holding out her shirt that she had left on the back of the chair.

"Oh right," she agreed, a little confused at the level of concern Mikey was taking regarding her skin health as she pulled the shirt over her bikini top. "I bet if you ask Christine, she probably has some sunscreen we could use."

"Yea maybe," Mikey said, draping a towel over her bare legs.

"Stop it," she said, kicking the towel off. "Why are you being so weird?"

"I'm helping," Mikey replied.

"Go away," she snapped, throwing the towel at him. Mikey retaliated by draping the towel over her head and when she pulled it off, he was gone.

"So annoying," she grumbled.

"If we find some sunscreen, I could help you put it on, if you want," Frank offered. "You wouldn't wanna burn."

She couldn't help but blush at the idea of Frank putting his hands all over her back and arms and... "Thanks, umm, maybe," she laughed nervously before quickly changing the subject.

(YN) spent the rest of the afternoon talking to Frank, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. Whether it was one of her brothers hovering obnoxiously close, or other guys at the party staring at her unabashedly, she had to wonder what the hell was going on.

The school year started as usual, but the same feeling of being watched overwhelmed (YN) as she walked down the halls of Our Lady of Sorrows Academy. At first it felt like she was being sized up like a piece of meat and the guys who were looking her up and down were hungry dogs. But as the week progressed, it was as if they couldn't avert their eyes away from her fast enough. When she tried to strike up a conversation with any guy other than her brothers, Frank, or Ray, they were abrupt and cold toward her.

"Can I tell you guys something that’s probably gonna sound crazy?” (YN) asked as she sat down in study hall with her friends Christine and Marie.

“Of course,” Christine nodded, leaning in.

“I know I’m not like hot or popular to begin with, but I feel like almost every guy in school is avoiding me."

Christine and Marie exchanged glances. "Umm, so you haven't heard?" Marie asked.

"Heard what?"

"Well first of all, I don’t think you’ve looked in the mirror recently because sweetie, the summer was very kind to you. You're totally hot, and that’s the problem,” Christine replied.

“Hot? I'm not even doing anything different,” (YN) mumbled, feeling herself blush as she pulled the cardigan of her uniform around herself more tightly. “And what do you mean, that’s the problem?”

“I heard that Gerard told Adam that if he so much as looks at you, he’ll put a hit out on him. I guess word has gotten around to all the guys in school,” Christine shrugged.

"Are you kidding me?!" (YN) blurted out and the other kids in the quiet study hall looked over at her.

"Miss Way, do you have a problem?" Mrs. Simon, the teacher supervising the study hall, asked from her spot at the front of the room.

"Nope! I, umm, am just surprised at the answer to this equation. I really love chemistry," she lied, trying to cover up for her outburst.

"What are you gonna do?" Marie whispered when everyone in the room turned their attention back to their own work.

"Nothing," (YN) shrugged.

"Wait, really?" Christine asked, totally surprised.

"Yea, because the guy I like is one of the few that won't be intimidated by Mikey or Gee."

"Who?!" Marie asked excitedly.

"I'm not telling anyone, because if it gets out, my brothers will lose it."

"Oooh, star crossed lovers," Marie grinned.

"Hardly," (YN) replied. "I doubt he even likes me like that."

"So you're coming to our birthday party, right?" (YN) asked as she and Frank sat at the kitchen table after dinner that night. The algebra homework was mostly finished, but forgotten for the moment.

"Have I ever missed it?"

"No," she rolled her eyes, but smiled. She knew she could always rely on Frank to show up for their birthday.

“Are you gonna make a super big deal out of it because it’s your sweet sixteen?” His tone was a little teasing.

“Oh yea, if I don't get a brand new BMW, I’m gonna throw a tantrum," she deadpanned.

“So you’re finally gonna start acting like a true OLS Academy girl?”

“Ugh, hell no,” (YN) groaned, rolling her eyes again. "There's a reason why Christine and Marie are my only girl friends."

"And it’s not because you spend all the rest of your time hanging out with us nerds?" He smirked.

"You nerds have always been my favorite people to hang out with. You're more interesting than 99% of that school."

"All of us, or just me?" He trailed off, suddenly becoming very interested in the pencil in hand.

"Yea, you're like in first place, then Christine and Marie, then Ray, Mikey, and Gee, then everyone else in the world."

"Damn, that's a lot of people to be ahead of," he replied with a goofy smile.

"Well you're really cool and always nice to me so yea," (YN) blushed.Silence hung between them, and for a moment she thought he was about to reach over and take her hand.

"Umm... (YN), ya know I’ve always-"

"How's the homework?" Gerard asked, bursting through the door from his basement bedroom.

"It'd be easier if you weren't always barging in," (YN) snapped. She hoped the blush on her cheeks wasn’t too noticeable.

"Don't do your homework in the kitchen then," Gerard shrugged.

"It's where the snacks are," she whined, but then a thought struck her like a bolt of lightning. "But I guess that’s fine, Frank will just have to go up to my room where we can shut the door and work in peace and quiet."

"I'll tell mom," Gerard replied.

"Tell her what? That you're annoying and distracting me, her long suffering youngest child, her poor, only daughter, from her studies?"

“Yea I’m the annoying one,” Gerard muttered before grabbing a soda from the fridge and retreating back downstairs.

“I should probably get going, it’s getting late,” Frank said, stretching his arms overhead. His shirt pulled up to show just a sliver of skin under the hem and (YN) couldn’t help but stare.

“Yea, umm, thanks for staying late and helping me,” (YN) said, getting up to walk him to the door.

“Just say the word and I’ll be here,” he smiled.

(YN) nodded, wanting to ask him what he was gonna say before Gerard interrupted him, but couldn’t find the courage to do so. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she smiled, holding out her arms for a hug.

Frank smiled back and wrapped his arms around her. She worried for a moment that she was holding on too long, but he wasn’t in any hurry to pull back either. When they finally did part, he waved before heading out into the cool New Jersey evening. (YN) shut the door behind him, and leaned against it with a dreamy sigh, the lingering feeling of his arms around her would be wonderful to fall asleep to that night.

Part 2

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #frank iero imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction

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kyidyl · 4 years

Text

Kyidyl Does Archaeology - Part 1

About me, and about the site.

I’m gonna have to do this in parts because I tend to be, uh...wordy. Actually...ok, so I believe very strongly that knowledge does no one any good behind a paywall, but I also have a hard time parsing it down for social media because, well, people are complex but also ADHD. So if you guys have any feedback for me that’d be awesome. I’ll probably do these as a series so they don’t get overwhelming to read. Tag for ‘em will be kyidylCL

A caveat to all of these posts: archaeologists walk a fine line between “I’d love to tell you about this and here look at this cool thing” and “I don’t want to share a colleague’s forthcoming paper on social media before they publish it and also fuck looters”. We classify anyone who *isn’t* an archaeologist as a looter. Because even when you find artefacts just lying around, as soon as you pick them up they’re removed from context and become near-useless for scientific research and data. When we remove them we capture all that information via a prescribed methodology. When other people remove them they tend not to. And you can tell how legit someone is by how much they care about the context. Context is key, that’s why we’re so meticulous. Anyway so I can’t tell you where the site is specifically because I’m not allowed. I also, though, have been heavily involved in this project so I’m mostly going to be telling you about my own research so it’s ok to publish it on social media. Anyway, that’s why if you show an archaeologist something you just like found they’ll be like “gee...thanks...well...I don’t want to squelch your curiosity, buuuuuut...”

A little bit of background on my involvement with this site: I’m a newly minted archaeologist. I’ve had my MS a little over a year, and I’ve been doing things in that time to keep up my skills and get the field hours I need to be a registered state archaeologist (it’s basically just like a professional license for archs.) bc I didn’t get enough in school and my dissertation is on genetics and cannibalism (and if you want to know about *that* I’ll tell you, but in another post.), so yeah. Anyway. I’ve been volunteering with the local archaeology society, and they’re great. They found this site because two of the members grew up in the area and just knew of its existence. So I volunteer with them and am one of like 3 people they know who have a degree so I get to be really involved - probably more than I would be otherwise just cause people with my credentials are in short supply for them. I’m basically the only member with a degree, and the rest are consultants they bring in for stuff like this (including the RSA who works the site - the site director.).

Before a site can be dug there’s a lot of prep work involved. It varies based on what kind of money you’ve got and access. We have lots of access - it’s on private land owned by someone who is childhood friends with a member of the arch society - but almost zero money. Before I showed up, in summer 2018, they did a series of what are called shovel tests. Basically there’s a grid laid over the site and where the grid lines intersect they dug a round pit down to what archaeologists call “the sterile layer”, IE, where there’s no evidence of human activity. Basically, you dig small holes to see if it’s worth digging big holes and in this case it was worth it.

When I started working with them, I took all of the material from the test pits and sorted and catalogued it. We’ll come back to this in the next post, so remember this. Pause.

I forgot to tell you where the site was. Like not specifically, I can’t do that, but I CAN tell you that it’s in the Shenandoah valley. Wanna see pics? Yeah, you wanna see pics (I took all of the images I’m gonna be posting so I give myself permission to post them. :P):

The site is too big to get in one pic, but this is the far end looking towards the mountain. The field continues off to the left of the shot.

Here’s a nicer pic of the mountain:

And another one cause it’s super pretty:

And here’s my view when we’re eating lunch:

And here’s an artsy shot of the cows I pass on my way in, because who doesn’t love cows? ;)

The site has been occupied for a long time (how long? Well, that’ll happen in the pottery post soooorry. ;), and I think you guys can see why. It’s also on a slight ridge overlooking a river so it’s near fresh water, easily defensible, and is fertile. Speaking of which...

It’s also what archaeologists call “highly disturbed”. See, after the colonizers drove the natives out of the Blue Ridge mountains, they started farming the fertile land in the valley. This site was farmed for several decades, and not only that but during the civil war they dug a big ‘ole defensive trench through the middle of it. So whilst farming disturbs the finds, it tends to a, only be a max of 15 inches deep and b, keep the finds in the same relative area they’re pulled out of. And we can tell where that layer ends (I’ll show you that in the post about our pits bc I don’t think Tumblr will let me add more pics.), so even though it destroys features and damages things it’s a lot less destructive than, say....building a giant war trench and shooting at each other.

The site is an entire settlement. It’s...several acres in size. There are burial cairns in the woods around it, and some rumors that human remains have been found there in the past - although we have not, as of yet, found any (much to my personal dismay because, well...bioarchaeologist.).

So who lived here? Well, when the colonizers drove out the natives they didn’t exactly keep good records about who lived where, but generally speaking the site is on both Massawomeck and Manahoac land. We don’t know which group lived there, and there were other groups coming and going in the general area so it could have also been Piscataway or Potomac or even one of the later nations that formed the Iroquois. Based on the age though I think the best candidates are the Massawomeck or Manahoac.

Next up, the prep work I did for the site and dig!

(aaaahhhhhh hopefully I didn’t forget anything. x.x)

#archaeology #native american #history #science #kyidylCL

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mellometal · 3 years

Text

Hey, lovely people!

I haven't been keeping you in the loop with everything going on. I apologize. I'm not ignoring anyone here or trying to leave anyone hanging. I've just been super busy the past few days with everything going on. But you're in luck! I got some updates for you!

My cat (my emotional support animal) and I are currently staying in a motel room. My dad and his cat are staying at his mother's house.

I recently found out that my roommates and I got the apartment we were looking at! As far as when it'll be ready to be moved into, I'm not 100% sure as of right now. With fees, I know that I cannot pay them all in one go. I don't get paid again until next week. (I get paid twice a month.) I'm going to get more info from the manager over there by the end of the week as well as from my roommates. One of my roommates is going to be flying out to where I live on September 6th from the other side of the country.

I've been very transparent with y'all, and I'm still keeping to it. Any commissions I receive will go towards essential items as well as fees related to the apartment on my end. Those essential items include:

Furniture (i.e., bed as well as stuff related to the bed lol, a desk, chairs, a nightstand, lamps, light bulbs, etc.)

Hamper (for laundry, obviously)

Shelves (for storage, as well as to display my figures, put my books on shelves, etc.)

Stuff for my cat to make sure she's taken care of (i.e., food, litter, treats, that kind of stuff!)

Blackout curtains (I work nights and sleep during the day, and it's VERY difficult to do that when your room isn't dark. Especially during the summer. I've been there, done that. If you're new to working night shift and you'd like a post about how to take care of yourself working night shift and some advice related to that, let me know! I'll probably make a post about that eventually anyway.)

Getting internet and possibly cable installed. Internet has become as important as having a car, especially with the pandemic. Many people are still working from home and there are many students in online school. I want to ensure that this is there in order for me to do important things and/or help my roommates with doing important things (like applying for jobs, school, and all that good stuff), and for fun stuff too!

Help get myself into driving school. I've been wanting to learn how to drive for a while; however, getting injured at work pushed back a lot of things, including learning how to drive.

Getting myself a car, once I get my learner's permit and driver's license.

Other essentials

If y'all would like to commission me, hit me up!

Have a good night, everyone.

#mello speaks #personal #updates #tw homelessness #everything is coming up roses???#I'm alright #emergency commissions

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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 4 years

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➹ PROMPT LIST [ 200 ] ➷

200 prompts-ish for 200 followers ( event closes on 3/27/21! )

fandoms: boku no hero academia + haikyuu!! rules are here

rules: pick one trope, up to two dialogue prompts, genre is optional, and for formatting, if you don’t write it, i’ll do whatever i think fits best! anything works, bby, go for whatever you’d like!

to clarify for song prompts: i usually just base my ideas off of the song instead of writing in the actual lyrics in the fic, but i can write this in songfic format if you’d like!

* = mandatory

➳ “ tropes/AUs „

1. enemies to lovers

2. and then they were roommates (i expect someone to say the next part)

3. coffee shop au <3

4. body swap

5. arranged marriage

6. blind date

7. sharing a bed

8. royalty au

9. high school au

10. college au

11. they hurt you

12. zombie apocalypse

13. major character death

14. love triangle

15. hurt/comfort

16. hanahaki

17. rivals to lovers

18. amnesia

19. sick reader/character

20. other!

➳ “ dialogue prompts* „

21. “can you just... hold me? please?”

22. “you’re gonna catch a cold.”

23. “shut up and kiss me.”

24. “i trusted you!”

25. “no no no, please don’t cry,”

26. “a hotdog is not a sandwich!”

27. “i know you meant every last word.”

28. “...can we, uh, do that hug thing again?”

29. “nononono, stay with me, come on, wake up!”

30. “i forbid you to die, you hear me? i forbid you to die!”

31. “shhhh.. just breathe with me, okay?”

32. “aw, you’re adorable. now shut up, idiot.”

33. “are you- wait, shut up- shut UP, are you blushing right now? that’s so cute!”

34. “don’t even try to double-back, i already despiiiise you.”

35. “babe, i’m in a meeting! just- shh, go back into your room.”

36. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”

37. “no, how about you shut up for once?”

38. “it’s not even that hard! you carry the x variable to the other side. then you divide it to isolate the variable.” “mhm. yeah. okay, i get it.” “i- are you even paying attention??” “...probably not.”

39. “it’s raining again?”

40. “don’t- don’t touch me, get away from me, get away from me!”

41. “you have the most beautiful eyes i’ve ever seen.”

42. “but that’s the best part?? i don’t- i don’t understand???”

43. “are you... crying?”

44. “babe, you’re having a nightmare, it’s okay,”

45. “i hate you.”

46. “i-i i didn’t mean it! i didn’t think you’d actually leave!”

47. “hey, it’s just me, shhh... it’s just me. you’re okay. you’re okay.”

48. “would you even care if i died? no, be honest, would you?”

49. “we go down together.”

50. “I HATE YOU! I trusted you, I sacrifced everything for you, and what do I get in return?”

51. “hold on for me, okay?”

52. “c’mere. i’ve been told that i give the best cuddles, hope i live up to your expectations!”

53. “i love you.”

54. “i’m just... tired of being tired.”

55. “i loved you, you know that?”

56. “say it, say something, say you hate me!”

57. “you have the most beautiful voice.”

58. “aaaah, you’re going to look fabulous!”

59. “hey, i’m (name) but you can call me anytime ;)”

60. “...why are you wearing my makeup?”

61. “I’M BUYING YOU A CROP-TOP, END OF DISCUSSION.”

62. “hi, i don’t care. shut up before i gouge your eyes out and shove them down your throat so you can see me rip out your heart.

63. “we shouldn’t be doing this. oh boy. we shouldn’t be doing this.”

64. “help me! i’m sorry, okay? just get me out of here!”

65. “i hope that golden metal on your neck was worth the price of losing me.”

66. “you sing?? I DIDN’T KNOW THAT-”

67. “nonono, these are battle scars! you must have fought a lot of battles, but you are my hero. okay?”

68. “...that’s my idiot. one sec.”

69. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) "i’m not allowed to sneak out, moron.”

70. “will you marry me?”

➳ “ genres/themes „

71. angst

72. comfort

73. reverse comfort

74. breakup

75. fluff

76. hurt/comfort

77. first time meeting

78. established relationship

79. reuniting

80. argument

➳ “ formatting* „

81. headcanon to fic

82. headcanon to blurb

83. full-fledged fanfic

84. headcanons

85. blurbs

86. one-shot

87. imagine + moodboard + playlist

88. if you’re okay with anything, just be sure to put that in your ask! <3

➳ “ songfics/prompt ideas „

89. say you won’t let go -> james arthur

90. heaven knows -> five for fighting

91. this is home -> cavetown

92. perfect -> ed sheeran

93. this side of paradise -> coyote theory

94. heather -> conan gray

95. line without a hook -> ricky montgomery

96. arcade -> duncan laurence

97. ballerina -> jeremy shada

98. riptide -> vance joy

99. someone you loved -> lewis capaldi

100. idk you yet -> alexander 23

101. a thousand years -> christina perri

102. love story -> taylor swift

103. i love you -> billie eilish

104. jar of hearts -> christina perri

105. castle -> halsey

106. lucky -> jason mraz, colbie caillat

107. thinking out loud -> ed sheeran

108. mr loverman -> ricky montgomery

109. the one that got away (cries in bokuaka) -> katy perry

110. she -> dodie

111. sunkissed -> khai dreams

112. train wreck -> james arthur

113. stranger -> jeremy shada

114. king -> lauren

115. wish you were sober -> conan gray

116. falling for u -> peachy!, mxmtoon

117. unlove -> lyle kam

118. coffee -> beabadoobee

119. lovesick girls -> blacpink

120. spring day -> btw

121. dancing with your ghost -> sasha sloan

122. you broke me first -> tate mcrae

123. drivers license -> olivia rodrigo

124. if the world was ending -> JP saxe, julie michaels

125. hold on -> extreme music or chord overstreet

126. ocean eyes -> billie eilish

127. when we were young -> adele

128. ghost of you -> five seconds of summer

129. i like me better -> lauv

130. pierre -> ryn weaver

lmao i know a lot of songs (as you can see), so if you have any suggestions, lmk bby!

➳ “ characters i prefer to write for „

(but don’t be afraid to request others!! i still love writing for any, these are just the ones that make it easiest for me to write for :D please keep in mind that i’m not completely caught up with haikyuu!!)

131. literally all of karasuno istg

132. kiyoko, yachi, keishin yukai

133. tetsuro kuroo, taketora yamamoto, kenma kozume, lev haiba, so inuoka

134. toru oikawa, hajime iwaizumi

135. kotaro bokuto, keiji akaashi

136. katsuki bakugo, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hanta sero, mina ashido

137. izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, ochako uraraka, tenya iida

138. aizawa, hawks

139. hitoshi shinsou

140. dabi, shigaraki

lol sorry couldn’t get to 200-

BUT JOIN MY TAG LIST IF YOU’RE SWAG <3

request here!

#till next time <333 #200 followers event: open!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha hcs #mha hcs #bnha headcanons #my hero academia headcanons #boku no hero academia #bnha imagines

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rabbitrah · 3 years

Text

idk why exactly but there's been an influx of terfs interacting with my content on all three of my active blogs and it's so upsettling. idk if it's because my posts are spreading further, because there actually is a more active terf community now that there used to be, or if the posts I'm creating now are more relevent to terf interests but it's so upsetting and although I'm trying to "block and move on" I'm finding the "moving on" part hard. It's a disturbing reminder of the backlash effect. I thought 7 years ago when I came out as trans to the first people that by this point in my life I would see more acceptance and less aggression. Maybe there is more acceptance. But the backlash that it's created is so difficult to reckon with. The anti trans legistlation being proposed in my country (usa) and abroad (especially the uk) is deeply scary to me. I'm so scared, especially since I'll be entering the field as a public elementary school teacher in less than two years. I've already made peace with the fact that I almost definitely won't be out at work, but I have new fears of being "found out." Although the new supreme court ruling has made it illegal to fire someone for their gender identity in my country, I have been fired for being trans without fired for being trans before. It's not that hard to do.

My boss at the first childcare job I had found out I was trans because a friend/coworker kept using they/them pronouns for me even though I was closeted at work (easy mistake!), so she did some digging I guess, then took me aside to tell me she "supported it" but that I had to keep it a secret (I was) because I was "teaching children to speak" and she didn't want me to "confuse them." I just nodded, so embarrassed and scared to be found out that way. I'd been mentally planning how I might be able to come out at work, but that flew out the window immediately.

Her treatment of me had already been pretty cold, but got colder after that. During a parent-teacher meeting that we all had to attend, she mentioned that one of the issues with the center was the lack of experienced staff, and how it's SO HARD to find good, experienced staff. It didn't even phase me because I was used to her belittling and criticizing me at this point, but it horrified a lot of the parents, who came up to me later to assure me that they thought I was doing a good job and that their kids had had a great year with me as their teacher.

I'd previously already gotten her approval to miss a few days at the end of the school year (cleanup stuff, after the kids were gone) so I could attend training for my summer job. A week later, just a few weeks before the end of the year she told me that I actually couldn't miss these days, and if I insisted on missing these days, I would have to resign. I was 20 and scared and non-confrontational. I told her couldn't lose out on my summer job that I'd already committed to, so if that meant I'd lose my position at the daycare, then fine. I knew whole-heartedly that this last minute, arbitrary decision was because she wanted an excuse to push me out. Thankfully I was smart enough to tell the parents of my kids and my coworkers that I was not quitting because I didn't want to stay, that I very much wanted to keep working, but that I had to keep my summer job and my boss wasn't giving me a choice.

Thankfully a new director replaced my old boss that year, a former coworker, and she called me that summer to ask if I would come back, and my YES couldn't have been louder. Now this is my career and I'm getting a degree in education. I couldn't be more passionate about my field. But I'll never forget that experience. A year later, at a training conference, my new director carefully asked me "how I identify." I knew she was kinder and more supportive than my previous boss. I knew that I could probably be honest without backlash. I still decided to tell her that I was bisexual and not tell her anything about my gender. She never asked again and I'm grateful to her for that. In all honesty, my previous boss might have outed me to her, or she could have found out another way, but she respected my privacy.

Seeing this sudden influx of terfs in my sphere is bringing back that old fear. This idea that people with an inherent repulsion of me are hidden all around me. They will be my bosses and my coworkers and I won't be able to tell who is who until it may be to late. Getting fired from a public school job is more damaging than getting fired from a community daycare. If I get outed and subsequently fired because my coworkers believe that there's something inherently unstable, corrupting, confusing, or even predatory about my lack of gender, I might struggle to find another position in that district or even that state. I might have too to a city or state far away from my loved ones to continue to work in my field (which would also mean getting a new teaching license.) Many trans people, especially trans women, have much more life threatening concerns, but this is mine.

Cis friends and trans friends who work in less scrutinized fields or more progressive cities are often critical or confused about how I could choose to stay closeted or don't think the backlash could really be so bad. They don't like thinking that there isn't a simple solution or a perfect school where I'll be able to come out and still teach, but I have to keep my expectations low, to protect myself. I've learned better.

#composibg whole ass essays on my phone for 2 people to read on tumblr dot com #iconic emile move #tender gender #teacher tag

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mcwriting · 4 years

Text

The Marriage Project (1)

Omg I can’t believe it’s taken me THIS long to post this. I wrote this chapter probably in like April or May and it freaks me out to finally post but here it is!

My slow burn (American) High School AU with Tom Holland!

All the general info for this series is on the story masterlist, but I’ll list warnings and word counts on every chapter. Chapters will be much longer than my typical 2000 or less babies

Warnings: This will become a mature story in the future (no smut; more info on masterlist). Some profanity in this chapter

Word Count: 4140 (I told you!)

% approximately the 2nd week of August %

Ah, senior year. One last year of high school, one last year of seeing the people you’ve grown up with every day.

You’ve been told it’s easy. The best year ever. And yeah, maybe it will be. It’s not like you’re taking too many hard classes or overloading yourself with extracurriculars, aside from volleyball, soccer, the National Honors Society, and quiz bowl.

(Okay maybe it was a little much, but you loved it anyways)

The only real problem was the certified thorn in your side, Tom Holland.

He’d essentially been your mortal enemy since the sixth grade when he beat your mile time by only a few seconds.

Now, it’s not that he was a bully or anything, he was just so insufferable to be around. And yes, everyone always says boys pick on girls when they like them, but rest assured that wasn’t the case. You’d both always hated each other, nothing more.

You were always competing, and because of that ended up in the same place a lot.

He was in all your honors classes, in NHS, played boys soccer, and did quiz bowl. The only thing you had to yourself was volleyball except, oh wait, his younger brother’s girlfriend was on the team and Tom was his ride home every day.

All these thoughts raced through your head as you walked in on the first day, sitting down in AP calculus as soon as you finished up at your locker.

Everyone did the “how was your summer?” and “long time no see!” as students filed in. Eventually walked in Tom, and you shot each other a glare as he sat down right next to you.

“Holland.”

“Y/l/n.”

Everyone around you groaned. They all knew you two were forces to be reckoned with and probably dreaded spending another year listening to the two of you bicker everyday.

Though you were often in close proximity, you never really talked much, except to argue. Rarely did you agree unless it was on basic facts, and even then was it hard to admit sometimes.

Because of this, you typically resigned yourselves to only speaking when it came to grades so you could keep a mental tally of who was in the lead. You were both in the running for valedictorian at the end of the year, and you were not about to let Tom win.

The week was almost over and things had gone smoothly for the most part.

Sure, you and Tom had had a couple of spats, but nothing that wasn’t handled quickly.

He’d been to all of your volleyball games so far, even the summer ones, which meant he was forced to watch you dominate the court as both a setter and right side hitter.

It was a nice little satisfaction.

Especially because you’d watched him throw some horrendous passes in the preseason football game last week that led to a loss by one touchdown. (Okay, he’d had some good passes too, but they were lucky shots).

You settled into your seat in senior home economics Friday before lunch. The class was your school’s attempt at teaching some life skills for rising adults. For the most part however, it was a glorified cooking and sewing class. You didn’t mind per say, since you could cook up a pre-snack lunch sometimes.

Most of your friends were in there, including your best friend Alexis, whom you hadn’t seen all morning.

You, Alexis, and two other girls stood around a mixing bowl with the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies since it was a Friday, which Mrs. Flynn called “dessert day.”

“Oh! Before I forget,” your teacher, Mrs. Flynn, started getting everyone’s attention. “This year we’re doing something new for this class! Next week I’ll have you all split into pairs for a semester long marriage project! I will be drawing names out of a hat, so don’t get too comfortable yet. Anyways, be thinking on what kinds of careers you might want and things of that nature! Okay, now get back to your desserts!”

The whole room broke out into chatter the last part of the hour-and-a-half class, people speculating who might end up with who and what jobs they’ll get.

“Oh my God, wouldn’t it be funny if y/n got Tom?” Alexis stated as you stirred chocolate chips into the dough. The other girls laughed as you just snorted.

“Yeah, I’d rather lick the inside of the microwave than be paired up with him for a semester,” you replied, earning more laughter from your friends.

You assumed Tom’s friends were saying the same however, because when you looked over to see how bad their dough looked, he was rolling his eyes as his group pointed in your direction.

The next week came and went, and it was once again Friday. Or, as Mrs. Flynn was calling it, Wedding Day.

Every time she’d pull a couple’s name, she was going to make you both come to the front of the class and exchange plastic wedding rings and sign a fake marriage license.

Yay.

Everyone chattered excitedly as she tore up the strips with your names and mixed them around. Finally the time came for her to start the drawing.

“Okay, friends. First up we have...” she drew the first name. “Katherine and... drumroll please?”

The class drummed their hands over their thighs.

“Chris! Come on down folks, let’s get this marriage on!”

She “married” the first couple, and then continued to draw. You had to admit that you were a little nervous, but still eager to see who you’d get.

Two couples later, she pulled Tom’s name.

You shot him an eyebrow raise to which he returned a discreet middle finger. You rolled your eyes as you prepared a drumroll for Mrs. Flynn.

“And his lucky partner is... y/n!”

“What!” you both exclaimed simultaneously.

Almost the entire class burst into laughter.

“Mrs. Flynn, this has to be a mistake,” you said.

“Yeah, can’t we have a redraw?” Tom asked.

You hated that he was agreeing with you.

“Nope! You get who you get and you don’t throw a fit! And if it doesn’t work out in a few weeks we can discuss divorce plans.”

“How about annulments,” you stated dryly, earning a chuckle from her.

“That… kinda depends on if you have kids,” she trailed awkwardly before perking back up. “Now come on down! They always say your first marriage is the most memorable!”

“Who has ever said that?” Tom asked.

“You know. They. Now just get up here and do the ring thing!” she commanded.

You both sulked up to the front of the room.

“Okay, now stand here facing each other and hold hands.”

“Do we have to?” Tom whined.

“Yes, now do it and it’ll be over with faster.”

He groaned, rolled his eyes, and grabbed your hands, holding them loosely.

“May I have the rings please!” Mrs. Flynn asked Caroline, the girl whose desk was closest that she’d asked to be designated ring bearer. She handed over the basket to let you both choose from the mix.

You took a silver colored ring with a faux white diamond in the shape of a star. Tom chose one with an oval “ruby.” You couldn’t help but notice how every single person was on edge watching the two of you.

“Okay now Tom, repeat after me. I, Tom Holland, take thee, y/n y/l/n, to be my wedded wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

He mumbled through the vow, avoiding eye contact, and slipped your star ring onto your finger. You were surprised at how gentle he was, carefully caressing your hand and making sure the ring faced straight up once it was on your finger.

You, too, said the lines and placed the ring onto his left hand.

“Alright. It is with the power vested in me by this very school that I am proud to now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now air kiss!”

You took a deep sigh and pretended to kiss each other's cheeks.

“Class, I’d like to introduce you all to Mr. and Mrs. Holland!”

They began to cheer and clap and laugh when you interjected.

“Uh, no. It’s Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

Tom began to argue with you when Mrs. Flynn stopped you both.

“Alright fine, we’ll do a combined name. How’s the y/l/n-Holland family sound?” she asked, writing your names on the fake marriage certificate.

With reluctance, Tom agreed to having your name first and you both signed the paper.

Finally you were able to sit back down where your friends were waiting.

“So what was that about licking the microwave?” Alexis asked.

“Oh shut up.”

After your volleyball game (another win!), you and Alexis conversed over cheese fries at your favorite diner.

“Still not ready to talk about today?” she asked. You shook your head.

Alexis had been paired up with Caroline. They were both straight, but you had both been friends with her since freshman year and they got along well.

Today had just been the marriages, and next week you’d be learning more about your family dynamics.

“I’m just so pissed at him. This afternoon in senior art he told all the guys in there that he was going to make it as hard as possible for me. I mean jokes on him, he’s going to want to get an A too, but he was just so smug about it. He also strung his stupid ring on that necklace he’s always wearing. What’s that all about?”

“I mean you’re still wearing your ring. But yeah, that is a little weird.”

“I’m wearing mine because compared to some of the others, the star is actually cute.”

“True. I got unlucky with the selection,” Alexis admitted, digging hers out of her purse to show you a big square blue gem.

“I just wish there was a way to get back at him after all these years. I mean, we’ve been at each other’s throats for almost six years but nothing has ever seemed to really hit hard. This is the last year I’ve got to really make it count.”

Alexis gave you a look, one you knew to be quite mischievous.

“You know what’s the best way to get revenge on a guy?” Alexis asked.

“Uh, no, but by the look you’re giving me it seems to fall under Carrie Underwood ’before he cheats’ directive.”

“No, dumbass. You make his family fall in love with you.”

It took a second to process what she said before you could give a decent reply.

“You’re kidding right? His family already knows who I am because of all the stuff we’re in together. They probably also know about our rivalry. I mean, he’s told his brothers to never become friends with me.”

“And you know that, how?”

“The libero is Sam’s girlfriend. She’s been spilling tea for me for the past year.”

There was a break in the conversation as the waiter brought your meals out. Once he was gone, you spoke up again.

“Look, do you really think that would work? I mean sure I’d get under his skin, but it doesn’t really constitute revenge, does it?”

“Look at it this way,” Alexis put down her burger so she could splay her hands out in front of her. “If you can get on everyone else's good side, they’ll all talk about how much they love you and he’ll be forced to listen. If he really hates you, it’ll drive him crazy.”

You thought on it for a minute as you chomped on a chicken tender.

“Alright, I’m in. If it doesn’t end up working, I still have all of next semester to mess with him anyways. Now if I can just figure out how to really get to know his family…”

By the time Monday rolled around, you and Alexis had done some more scheming, but your plan wouldn’t even begin to be put in action until your volleyball games Wednesday and Friday, when you’d try to talk to Sam.

You sat down in home ec, where today you’d be picking careers. The catch, however, was that your family unit would have a set income, so each couple had to decide how it would be split up.

“Y/l/n-Holland family, you’ll be making $200k a year,” Mrs. Flynn announced, handing you the slip of paper. “Get together and decide who’s getting what jobs.”

“At least we’ll be rich,” you thought as Tom plopped into the seat next to you unhappily.

“So I’ll be the doctor and you’ll be the trophy wife, right?” he asked immediately.

“Hah, good one. I think we all know that I’m the smarter one here and wayyyy more likely to get into med school than you. And don’t call me trophy wife. I mean, what, you think I’m hot now? Can’t wait to tell everyone that little number.”

His ears turned beet red and he balled a fist.

“I don’t think you’re hot, except maybe hot shit. It’s a figure of speech.” he spat.

“Oh get over yourself. I know I’m hot anyways. Let’s just both pick jobs that earn $100k so we can be equal. How’s that sound?”

“Fine.”

He played with the plastic ring on his necklace as you looked up jobs on the computer. After a half hour of searching, Tom and you decided that to be fully equal, you’d both take the same job as physician’s assistants.

“Just so you know, I’ll never actually be anyone’s assistant,” he said.

“Oh yeah? Ten years time if you’re lucky I’ll hire you as mine.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Hey everyone, since class is almost over, we’re gonna wait to draw how many kids you’ll have and other financial things Wednesday. See you then!” Mrs. Flynn called out as students packed their things.

“We have to have kids, too?” Tom asked incredulously.

“Good thing it’s fake. I’d hate to see you as a parent,” you shot smugly, earning another middle finger from him that left you laughing.

Wednesday came kids, and thankfully all you got were twin girls, age 9. The project didn’t make you carry around flour babies or anything like that, you just had to account for them in your weekly budgets.

There goes the annulment plan, though.

Each week, Mrs. Flynn would be drawing something new for you all that would either be good or bad for your budgets, and it was up to you to figure out what to with the funding, or lack thereof. You also had to come up with a story each week that explained why money was put somewhere or what your “family” did that week.

She would also be doing progress checks, so you couldn’t wait until the end of the semester to do all the work. By the end, each couple would have to give a presentation over what they did and learned.

“Okay, so we each get to name one. That’s pretty equal,” you stated, thinking up baby names.

“Well I like Elizabeth,” he almost immediately replied, writing it down on one of the “birth certificates” you’d been handed by Mrs. Flynn.

“That’s… surprisingly good. I’ll go with Francesca. What about middle names? I like Rose.”

“Hm. How about Opal? Then they’ll have the same number of letters in their names.”

You were surprised at how much though he put into this, but let it go as you wrote your child’s name down.

“By the way, we need to plan time to get together and write a budget and find a house this weekend. I have a volleyball game Friday so how about Saturday?”

“I have football practice Saturday.”

“Well yeah but only until like 10 right? We could just meet at like 1. We’re doing construction at my house right now so could we do it at yours?”

You spoke sweetly in an attempt to receive a yes and put your plan into motion. Tom sighed and thought about it.

“I mean I guess. But you’re only going to be there to work on the project and then leave right?”

“Uh, duh. The less time with you the better.”

“Likewise.”

Tom and Sam weren’t at the volleyball game Wednesday, so you had to wait until Friday’s.

Friday was muffin day in home ec, so you thankfully didn’t have to talk to Tom. Instead, you and Alexis discussed the plan of getting Tom’s family on your side as you mixed up batter.

Later that afternoon, you watched from afar as Sam and his girlfriend, Julia, sat on the bleachers speaking. It was still an hour until game time and coach had asked you to round up the girls for stretching.

“Hey, Jules!” you called, jogging over to where she was. “Oh, hey Sam!” He looked at you like you were crazy before responding.

“Uh, hey y/n.” He gave a slight head nod.

“Anyways, coach wants us to start warming up. Wanna be my partner today?”

“Um yeah. Sure. See ya later babe,” she said, giving Sam a quick peck on the cheek before standing up to follow you.

After another win, you were helping take down the net and noticed Julia once again talking to Sam while Tom stood a few feet away looking bored.

“Hey, could you wrap up the net? I need to do something real quick,” you said to another teammate as you headed over.

“Hey, Jules! Solid digs today! You were making my job way too easy,” you joked.

You could see from the corner of your eye Tom look up at you in annoyance.

“Ahaha thanks girl. But I can’t take all the credit. You were on fire tonight. What was that like 15 aces? And your hits? Incredible,” she replied.

“Yeah, you were amazing tonight,” Sam added.

“Ohhhkay we can stop the compliment parade on y/n now. We need to go anyways, Sam, mom wants us home,” Tom interjected, putting an arm out in front of his brother, who was rolling his eyes.

“Alright fine. We still on for dinner tomorrow?” Sam asked his girlfriend. She nodded and they exchanged a quick hug and kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow too, Tom,” you said. “I’ll bring my laptop.”

Sam looked at him in confusion.

“Yeah whatever,” was all Tom could say to you as you strutted off to the locker room.

You stood nervously on the front porch of Tom’s suburban home. You had texted him when you parked but now dreaded actually going inside.

After shifting back and forth for a minute, you finally rang the doorbell.

It was only a few seconds later that the door opened, revealing Sam’s twin Harry. He looked confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Harry. Tom and I are supposed to be working on a school project today and he said to come over at this time so...” You awkwardly shifted your backpack straps and looked down.

“Tom! Someone’s here to see you!” he yelled out, making you snort.

He appeared shirtless in the doorway and looked at you blankly.

“Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me? What did you just forget that we have to work on our project today,” you replied, holding up your left hand to point to the plastic ring on it.

“You’re still wearing that? Why?”

“Firstly, the little star is cute. And secondly, you don’t have a lot of room to speak, Tom. Yours is still on your necklace,” you pointed to the chain around his neck, to which he instinctively reached up and grabbed the ring, twisting it between his fingers.

“Touche. Now come on, let’s just get this over with.” He opened the door wider and let you in, locking it behind you.

As he led you down a hall covered in photos towards the stairs, his mom stepped out, almost running into her son.

“Oh, sorry.” she looked at you, “Y/n? What are you doing here? It’s nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Holland. Tom and I have to work on our home ec project and we couldn’t do it at my house.”

“Oh dear just call me Nikki. And I do remember him mentioning something about a project. Are you the one he’s married to? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Tom tensed up and clenched his jaw while you gave a light chuckle, holding up your left hand again.

“I hate to say it, but yeah. You’ll probably be seeing a lot more of me throughout the semester.”

“Well you kids have fun. And Tom, honey, would it kill you to put on a shirt?”

He went red again and you had to stifle your laughter.

“I was just on my way to do that, mom. Come on y/n,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you up the stairs.

You turned and waved at Nikki one last time as she called up behind him,

“And make sure to keep the door open!”

He was totally embarrassed by that, and made it a point to shut the door behind him once you made it to his room. Finally you could let out a hearty laugh at his expense as he dug through his drawers and pulled out a simple black t-shirt.

“Finally. I was getting tired of looking at your man boobs,” you quipped, looking around the room.

“Ha ha. Good one,” he shot back dryly.

You were surprised at what his room looked like, though you didn’t know what you’d expected. It was very neat with sleek grey walls. His blue and grey bedding was made up with decorative pillows laid out. On his desk were a few random school papers and a computer, and one shelf held some Spider-Man paraphernalia while another contained medals and ribbons and trophies.

You dropped your backpack to the ground and pointed up at one figurine.

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” you said sincerely.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think so,” he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Uh, no. I’m serious. It’s actually really dope.”

He looked taken aback at your compliment, and even to you it felt weird to be saying that out loud about Tom of all people.

“Oh. Well uh. Thanks. Spider-Man was my favorite growing up. But let’s just get to work.”

After an hour of sitting on his carpet searching for a house and arguing over general money allocations,

“Yes Tom, tampons actually cost like $7 for 30 of them and most girls need at least one box a month. And that’s just one factor of personal hygiene. Do you even condition your hair?”

“I’ll have you know my hair is well moisturized. I just don’t ever have to pay for it.”

You finally came to an agreement on the week’s budget.

Packing up your things, you looked up at Tom who was now sitting on the side of his bed scrolling through social media.

“So next week. Your first game of the season, yeah?” you said, remembering that September was already almost here.

“Oh yeah. You coming? I’d hate for you to see just how incredible I am.”

“Psh whatever. I saw your throws at preseason. But yeah, I’ll probably just rinse off after my volleyball game and head to the field. Gotta see what cuties they’ve got on the other team.”

“Ugh gross. You know you’ll regret saying that when half the school is swooning over me in the stands.”

“The only thing you’d ever see me swoon from is dehydration. And that’s a pretty weak excuse already.”

You stood and Tom got up to lead you back out.

“Oh, I think I know the way. You don’t have to take me.”

“Yeah I do. Gotta keep my eyes on those grubby little fingers of yours. Who knows what you’d do unsupervised.”

Before you reached the door, Nikki spotted you from the living room.

“Done so soon? Wow, good job guys. Come back any time y/n!”

“Thanks, Nikki,” you called back to her, then turned to Tom. “So same time next week? We can do it at my place if you want.”

“Nah let’s just do it here. I’m always exhausted the day after a game and I don’t really want to get up.”

Okay then

“Well, see ya Monday then. Bye.”

You were halfway down the sidewalk when Tom called out, “Be safe,” before shutting the door. You stopped in your tracks in shock, but eventually got into your car.

What really mattered, though, was that you were already on Nikki’s good side.

1 down, 4 to go.

Yay! It’s finished! I really hope you guys enjoy this new series because I’m so excited to share it with you all! Once again, future chapters will have some mature content (s*xual harassment and mentions of assault; underaged alcohol consumption) but those chapters will be explicitly labeled with warnings.

Anyways, thanks for reading and please send an ask or message if you’d like to join my story or permanent tag list!

Tag List: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #enemies to lovers #slow burn #Harry Holland #sam holland #tom holland au #high school!au #high school!tom holland

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goldenraeofsun · 4 years

Text

the best day with you

Part of this verse!

Dean taps Claire on the shoulder. “You got plans for this weekend?”

Claire twists on their couch to see him and sets aside her laptop. With narrowed eyes full of suspicion, she grabs the remote and mutes Dr. Sexy. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

Dean rolls his eyes. This is why he became a teacher. To help teenagers. Not to strangle them for sassing him to his face. Sure, Claire might be a sophomore in college now, and she’s not really a teenager anymore, but Dean’s never going to see her as anything but an angsty junior in high school. Especially if she keeps up the this attitude. Dean says, as evenly as he can, “Because I want to do something with you.”

Claire grimaces. “Really? Don’t you have other boring old man friends to do things with? Like, for instance, your boyfriend?”

“No,” Dean says. “Cas is going to visit Gabriel in LA this week.”

“And you chose to stay behind with me instead?” Claire says, her eyebrows rising to her hairline.

“Yes.”

“Are you dying?”

“What?” Dean gapes. “No!”

Claire squints at him. “Are you hoping I can score drugs for you?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I can get my own drugs, thanks. It’s one of the perks of being a real live adult.”

“Do you need money?”

“If I did,” Dean starts incredulously, “why would I ask a broke college student?”

“I don’t know,” Claire says with a shrug. “Dementia? That kicks in about now for you, right?”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “I’m barely thirty-four!”

Claire shrugs. “Alzheimers?”

“That’s a kind of dementia,” Dean tells her flatly. He runs a hand down his face. “Look, are you free or not, kid?”

Dean is pretty sure she doesn’t have plans, judging by the way she’s religiously camped out on their couch for the past two weeks straight. She's abandoned her spot only to go to the bathroom, eat meals, and, on one memorable occasion, visit her parents for Sunday dinner. The living room her space now - which is fine with him, Dean’s been doing his summer school grading at the kitchen table. Along with her computer, Claire’s got the coding handbook Charlie Frankenstien-ed for her out of a bunch of different documents, probably all downloaded and printed illegally. On the television, she cycles through daytime soaps and CW evening dramas.

Claire grins. “On Saturday or something? Yeah.”

He rolls his eyes. “Was that so hard?”

“No, but it was fun.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a handful?” Dean says as he turns to head back into the kitchen. Lunch wasn’t going to make itself, and Cas was due back any minute from his errands.

“Just my parents, every day from age thirteen to eighteen,” Claire says casually as she reaches for the remote to resume Dr. Sexy.

Dean freezes. “Hey,” he starts, not really sure where he’s going with this.

“What?” Claire snaps as if annoyed, but her face is guarded.

“Your parents were asshats, you know that?” Dean says. “They shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about family,” Claire mutters as she turns up Dr. Sexy.

In the middle of her junior year of high school, Claire moved in with Cas for about six months.

Early in the year, she had an explosive argument with her parents about transferring from their preferred private school to Edlund High. She also came out to them.

Dean has the sneaking suspicion Claire doesn’t think she had it that bad. Her parents didn’t hit her. They didn’t kick her out. They didn’t even stop giving her her allowance. But they didn’t talk to her for days on end. They ignored her until she needed something from them, or the other way around. By Christmas, Claire had had enough. She left.

Back then, Dean told Claire her parents were in the wrong as many times as she would let him - which wasn’t many.

Cas took the lead with her, instead. She was his family. He found her a therapist and encouraged her to make friends at Edlund. Dean didn’t really feel like it was his place. She was Cas’s niece, and Dean was the guy who stayed over a couple times a week when she was crashing there too. And then he became her teacher when the transfer to Edlund became official. Still, she wouldn’t consider him family.

“My uncle always said, ‘family don’t end in blood,’” Dean tells her seriously.

Claire slumps back on the couch. “Right,” she says dully.

Dean takes a step back, rubbing his neck as he swallows down his next few words. He’s not about to give a heartfelt lecture on family and healthy boundaries to someone who’s going to grumble and groan through it. He jerks his head towards the kitchen. “I’ll get started on-”

Claire interrupts, “But that’s not grammatically correct. Aren’t you an English teacher? Who gave you a license to teach?”

Dean snorts. “Just think about it, will you?”

“Uh huh,” Claire waves him off. “If you’re going to the kitchen, can you make me a sandwich?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty. Cas finished off the strawberry jelly while he was grading essays last night, so you’re gonna have to settle for grape.”

Claire makes a face but nods. Dean’s almost at the kitchen door when she asks, “Your uncle, was he really your uncle?”

Dean shakes his head. “Not by blood. He was a good friend of my dad’s. But he was as good as family - better than, sometimes.” He swallows. Bobby’s been gone two years now. Dean had thought the grief when his dad passed was bad, but it was a whole other beast with Bobby.

Claire squints at him, looking so much like Cas Dean can’t help the warm feeling in his chest. “This is your show, right?” she asks out of the blue, gesturing to the television.

Dean blinks. “Yeah?”

And that’s how Cas finds them ten minutes later, eating PB&Js on the couch, watching Dr. Sexy - with Claire skewering every characterization and costume choice, and Dean defending Dr. Sexy’s cowboy boots with his life.

* * *

“Minigolf, really?” Claire asks as they pull into the parking lot on a bright Saturday afternoon. The early-summer temperatures are already high enough to make Dean sweat in the Impala, and Claire’s shorts could double as bikini bottoms, they’re so small.

She adds, “You realize I have a fake ID and we could probably go to a bar or something.”

“One,” Dean says as he slams the car door shut, “minigolf is a classic American pastime. Much better for your liver than drinking. And B, don’t ever tell Cas about that fake.”

Claire clambers out of the car. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Just making sure,” Dean says airily as he starts walking. He holds out his hand as she jobs to catch up to him. “Lemme see it.”

“Why?” she asks suspiciously as she digs for her wallet in her purse and fishes the ID out.

“Nice job,” Dean says as he holds it up to the sunlight shining overhead. “Ash?”

Claire stops short, surprised. “What?”

“Did Ash do this one?” Dean asks. “Come on,” he tells her as he nudges her shoulder to keep her moving out of the middle of the parking lot. “Nobody else does ‘em this good.”

“How do you know that?” Claire demands.

Dean laughs. “I told you I can get my own drugs.”

“Ash deals too?” Claire asks, looking hopeful.

Dean leans over to ruffle her hair. “His dope is a little out of your price range, squirt.”

“Hey!” Claire squawks as she tries to smooth everything back into place. “And nobody calls it ‘dope’ any more, you doof.”

Dean grins. “Yeah, I know.”

They enter the main building and get in line to rent the putters. It smells strongly of sunblock and worn down parental patience. A few parents wait ahead of them, all older than Dean with kids younger than Claire. A group of high schoolers are inspecting a row of putters on display on the far wall. Through the windows to the back, Dean can see a splendid display of mostly-intact astroturf and course obstacles with sun-faded paint.

The guy behind the counter is wearing an obnoxiously bright shirt and smile. “Hiya,” he says cheerily as they step up to the counter, “I’m Garth, welcome!”

“Two adults please,” Claire says quickly, like she knows Dean was going to ask for a kid’s ticket to mess with her.

“You got it,” Garth says as he bends down to grab two putters. “The bathrooms are by Hole 7, and if you want to grab lunch across the way at Fenris’s Diner, show them your receipt and you’ll get 15% off.”

Dean steps forward with his wallet. “Do you know if they have pie?”

Garth smiles wider, showing even more teeth, which Dean didn’t think was possible. “You bet! The best darn cherry pie I’ve ever tasted.”

“Awesome,” he says. “Thanks, man.”

“Thank you!” Garth says as he rings them up. “And good luck on the course!”

* * *

Dean is uncomfortably sweaty by Hole 2, and Claire piles her hair on top of her head in a messy bun to cool off her neck halfway through Hole 4.

“Swing batter, batter, swing!” Dean shouts from right behind her as she hits the ball at Hole 6.

Claire glares at him as her ball knocks against the windmill blade and skips off to the side. “That’s for baseball, idiot.”

“But you still missed,” Dean points out as he sidles up to tee. “So does it really matter? Hey!” She kicks him in the ankle as he strikes at the ball. “You cheater,” he gasps dramatically.

“So what?” Claire asks, putter swinging ominously at her side, “You gonna tell on me?”

Dean frowns. “No, but I won't buy you any pie when this is all over.” He keeps his eyes peeled for an opportunity to mess with her as she takes another stab at the windmill.

“Fine with me. I like cake better.”

Dean raises his head to gape at her. “Seriously?”

Claire throws him a funny look. “Does it matter?”

Dean’s mouth works furiously. “You ate the last slice of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving two years ago.”

Claire’s eyebrows climb to her hairline as she leans against the windmill and watches him take another stab at it. “You remember that?”

Dean hardly watches where his ball goes. “Of course I do.”

Jimmy and Amelia had elected to have Thanksgiving at Cas’s mother’s place. Cas, whose frosty relationship with his mother wasn’t helped by her dismissive attitude towards Claire, hosted a separate Thanksgiving at the (then) new house he shared with Dean. Sam and Jess flew in from California, and Claire was, of course, invited too. They were having a fucking blast, until Claire stole the last slice of pie right out from under Dean’s nose.

Claire snickers under her breath. “You’re so weird.”

Dean glares. “I called dibs.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about, McMurphy,” Claire says, the liar. She crouches to get a better look at the windmill.

Dean tries to suppress his smile. “Was that a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest reference?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “I paid attention in your class, you know. Even if you gave me an A-minus.”

Dean grins. “But you got a 5 on the AP Exam.”

Claire does a little jig as her ball falls into the hole.

* * *

“What the fuck?” Dean howls as his ball stops just short of Hole 9. Parents chaperoning a group of five kids at Hole 10 glare daggers at him.

Claire laughs uproariously. “Sucks to suck, old man.”

“Hey!” Dean glowers as she sinks a hole in one.

“What’s that?” Claire holds her putter up in victory. “Did you see that? Did that go in the hole? I wasn’t watching. Did the ball go in the hole?”

“Shut up, kid,” Dean grumbles as Claire smirks. “It wasn’t funny the first time.” He concentrates on his next shot. God help him if he fucks up with his ball barely half a foot from the hole.

One of the toddlers at Hole 10 lets out an ear-splitting shriek, and Dean’s ball skips off in the direction of Hole 13.

Claire doubles over laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbles as he sidesteps her to go fetch it, “Like you would’ve done any better.”

“I just did. Or did you miss my hole in one?” Claire asks from right behind him.

“I’m hungry,” Dean declares.

“Okay…?” Claire squints at him.

Dean nods to a hotdog stand by Hole 14. “Whaddya say to a dog?”

“Mystery meat at a roadside attraction that hasn’t been renovated since ‘97? Sign me up,” Claire says sarcastically.

Dean claps her on the back, just a shade too hard. “That’s the spirit.”

She stumbles but doesn't fall - exactly Dean’s plan - and glares at him. “If I get E. coli, it’s your fault.”

Once hotdogs are in hand, they sit and eat on a worn bench that’s more chipped paint than bench, facing a dinky little fountain. A few pennies glint dully from at bottom, almost obscured by the bright midday sunlight reflecting off the surface of the water.

“So,” Claire says after she takes her first bite. “You wanna tell me what this is all about?”

“What?”

“This whole distant dad trying to reconnect with his kid routine,” Claire says.

“I - I’m not your dad,” Dean stutters, face heating.

“Duh. Dad was more of Church retreat guy.” She leans back on the bench, stretching out her legs, and tilts her face up to catch more sun. “I would’ve had a better time if there was no singing and 100% more hitting things.”

Dean asks haltingly, “So you don’t think this is weird?”

“What hanging out with you?” Claire asks, her smile guileless. “I heard elder enrichment is important to prevent cognitive decline, so I’m just doing my duty.” She laughs at his disappointed frown. “Relax. This has been… great.”

“Really?”

Claire finishes off her hotdog and balls up the aluminum foil wrapper. “Yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Dean gets up to put her trash and his in the garbage and manages to stow his broad smile before he gets back.

* * *

“Hole in one!” Dean crows at Hole 15.

“Do you want a gold star?” Claire snarks as she tees up.

“Shut up.”

Claire swings, and they both watch as her ball deftly navigates around the bumps and turns to sink neatly into the hole.

Dean’s smile falls off his face as Claire jumps around in victory. “Lucky shot,” he tells her as they troop to Hole 16.

“Uh huh,” Claire says. “And that makes, what seven lucky shots for me? And how many holes in one have you had?”

At the next hole, they have to wait for the large family ahead of them to finish up.

“Oh my god,” Claire mutters as one of the parents demonstrates how to properly swing the putter for the youngest child, “it’s minigolf. Not the Olympics.”

“I know, right?” Dean says in an undertone. “Who cares how she hits the ball? If she wants to bowl it down the course, let her.”

“Seriously, who gives a fuck?”

“I bet she’s gonna scream before they’re done with the lesson.”

“What?”

“Water works in 5… 4… 3…”

They wait with bated breath as, sure enough, the child sits down in the middle of the course and wails. She refuses to even touch the putter.

“How did you know that was gonna happen?” Claire asks as the family moves on. She eyes him critically. “High schoolers aren’t the tantrum type.”

“Shows what you know,” Dean snorts. No matter the point of spending today with Claire, he wasn’t about to tell her how he became an expert in toddler care. Christ, he can still remember the sticky feeling of Sammy’s vomit all over his front when he cried so hard he puked. Dean’s crime? Telling Sammy his favorite blanket needed to be washed. Dean hadn’t even taken it away yet.

Dean tells Claire instead, “I’ve seen more meltdowns over bad essay grades than I’d like. And it’s not like I can say, well, you should have read the damn book, Ava.”

“You wouldn’t say something like that,” Claire says as she bends down to set up her ball.

“Of course not,” Dean rolls his eyes, “that makes it worse.”

Claire straightens. “No, I’m saying, you would probably ask her why she didn’t have the time to read the book; if she’s tried the audiobook instead; if you should talk to Mr. Lafitte for her since she spent too long on Algebra and didn’t get to your homework.” She shrugs, meeting his eyes briefly. “You would do something like that.”

Dean blinks because she’s got him exactly right. He’s a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a lazy student. There are unmotivated students; there are students with undiagnosed ADHD or dyslexia; and there are anxious and/or depressed students. Hell, there are students with side-jobs, bills to pay, and little brothers to look after.

“Yeah,” he agrees, discomfited. Claire was his student for one year, but her presence in class was kind of eclipsed by her rocky home life. In senior year, she was back with her parents, but she also caught up regularly with Cas. In class, she faded into the background - Kaia’s blonde shadow. Cas’s stories provided Dean with more insight than any discussion on The Plot Against America ever did.

“All the seniors loved you,” Claire says. “Max Banes would’ve slept with you if he could.”

Dean hits his ball right into the mini sand pit. “What?”

Claire smirks. “You didn’t know?”

“No!”

“Uncle Cas was right, you are oblivious,” Claire says as she whacks her ball straight into the hole.

“Hey,” Dean says, but the protest is weak. “Cas wasn’t much better.”

Claire grins. “No one’s arguing that.” She waits until Dean’s mid-swing to say, “Max would’ve slept with Uncle Cas too - which, gross.”

“Dammit, Claire!”

* * *

“Okay,” Claire says as they walk away from Hole 18. “I’m gonna need to sit in AC for at least forty-five minutes.”

They’ve been out in the sun for nearly two hours now. Dean pulls his damp shirt away from his stomach with a grimace. “You down for pie?”

“Sure,” Claire says gratefully as they leave minigolf behind them.

In the diner, the air conditioning hits them like a bucket of cold water to the face. Claire throws herself into the first both they see as Dean troops off to relieve himself in the bathroom. He checks his phone - one grumpy text from Cas about Gabriel’s inappropriate choice of swimwear for a hotel pool - and exits with a smile on his face.

Back at the booth, Claire is twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger, smiling coyly up at the waitress from lowered lashes. But Claire's inviting expression flips off like a switch as Dean drops down into the opposite seat.

The waitress’ own sunny smile takes on a distinctly plastic sheen at his arrival. “Hello!” she chirps as Dean picks up the menu. “Is there anything I can get you besides water?”

“Can I get a coke?” Dean asks the waitress - Maggie, according to her nametag. She’s tall, probably taller than Claire, and dark-haired. She seems around Claire's own age, so Dean would bet she’s only working here as a summer job.

Claire is still glaring daggers at him, so Dean asks, partly to be a dick, “And what’re you getting, Claire?”

“Water,” she says through gritted teeth.

“A coke and a water, please,” Dean says cheerfully to Maggie.

She bobs a nod and casts a lingering look at Claire. “I’ll be right back to take your order.”

Claire kicks him under the table as she disappears into the kitchen. “You couldn’t have waited another five minutes?” she hisses “I was just about to get her number.”

Dean grins. “My bad.”

“Now she thinks I’m here with my dad or something.” Claire crosses her arms across her chest.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You call me an old man, but I’m, what, twelve years older than you? We’re more likely to be on a date.”

Claire’s flat-out horrified face is enough to make Dean’s week. He’s still laughing as Maggie makes a return, one water and one Coca Cola in tow.

“So what can I get you both?” Maggie asks as she reaches for her pad and pen.

“One slice of cherry pie, thanks,” Dean says brightly.

“Nothing for me,” Claire mumbles.

Maggie looks from Claire to Dean and back again. “One cherry pie,” she confirms slowly. “Should I bring out two forks?”

Over Dean’s fresh bout of laughter, Claire says loudly, “We’re not together!”

Maggie blinks a few times, and Dean can’t tell if she’s more shocked by his reaction or Claire’s. “Okay.”

As she leaves, Claire buries her head in her hands. Her voice is muffled by her hands and hair, but Dean can make out, “This is all your fault.”

“How?” Dean asks as he sucks on his straw. “It’s not my fault if you’ve got no game, kid.”

Claire slumps onto the table. “I used to.”

“Stalking doesn't count as ‘game’ or else Cas and me would have gotten together way before we did,” Dean says sagely.

Still face-down on the table, Claire flips him the bird.

“Have you spoken to Kaia lately?”

Claire doesn’t move for a long moment. When she finally raises her head, her expression is pinched. “Not since Spring Break last year. She was doing good, I guess.”

Awkwardly, Dean says, “It’s okay if you’re still hung up on her.”

Claire waves his assurances away. “It’s been a whole fucking year."

Dean sighs. “These things can take time. You were with her while a lot was going on in your life, and she was there for you through all of it. Just ’cause you're young doesn’t mean it meant less. But if you want to move on, sometimes you don’t have to wait until you’re 100% ready.”

“Thanks, Senpai.”

Maggie approaches carrying a large slice of cherry pie.

“Here you go,” Maggie says as she sets the plate down. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Nothing for me,” Dean butts in before Claire can get a word in edgewise, “But Claire, here, would like your number.”

Maggie goes bright red.

“Dean,” Claire hisses, completely mortified. “What the fuck?” She turns to Maggie. “Forget what he said. He’s a moron who doesn't know what he’s talking about.”

Maggie glances to Dean before settling back on Claire. “So… you don’t want it?”

Claire splutters, “I - no - yes, but not if-” She takes a breath, clearly trying to compose herself. “Yes, I would like your number. But not because he said so.”

“You don’t have to decide now.” Dean fishes out his wallet and takes out a five. “It won’t affect your tip,” he says with a wink as he shoves the bill under the napkin dispenser.

Maggie bites her lip. “I’ll think about it.”

Once Maggie’s left, Claire leans over the table and punches Dean, hard, in the arm. “Oh my god, are you actually braindead?”

“Hey, watch the pie!” Dean yanks his plate closer, out of Claire’s line of fire.

“What on earth possessed you to do that?” Claire demands.

Dean eyes his pie, planning his perfect plan of attack. “You needed a push in the right direction.”

Claire’s eyes flash. “I don’t need your help.”

“Tough luck, because you got it anyway,” Dean says with a shrug as portions off his first bite. “You’re only here for the summer. You don’t have the time to pine from across the softball field for a whole season.”

Claire frowns, saying warily, “I know Maggie isn’t Kaia.”

Dean points his fork, dripping with pie filling at her face. “So you gotta try a new strategy.”

“How?”

“Well, get yourself a capable wingman, for starters,” Dean says around his next bite of pie.

“Who? You?” Claire asks incredulously.

“Probably not,” Dean says, shuddering at the thought. He’d intervened with Maggie because was fucking funny as hell to see Claire get Cas-levels of awkward, but scoping out any more romantic prospects for Claire makes him feel sleazy. “I’m more of a pinch hitter.”

“What?”

“You really didn’t pay attention to a single softball game, did you?” Dean says, almost impressed.

Claire glares.

“They’re the guys called in last minute to fill in for a batter,” Dean says. He shovels the last bit of pie into his mouth, saying, “Did you keep in touch with Krissy?”

Claire shakes her head. “They were all Kaia’s friends first, so…”

“She got them in the divorce?” Dean says sympathetically.

Claire nods, her expression darkening.

“I know she’s back home for the summer too, taking care of her dad,” Dean says. “I bet she could use someone to hang with - if you ever get bored coding from our couch. Data entry for Charlie can’t be that exciting. Don’t tell her I said that.”

Claire rolls her eyes. “You don’t need to set up playdates for me, Dean.”

Dean shrugs. “Suit yourself. But none of Krissy’s other friends are back home - Josephine’s abroad, and the rest of ‘em are staying in their college towns.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Dean nods. That’s probably as good as he’ll ever get with Claire - she’s not the type to gratefully accept help. She’s more likely to complain to his face while going behind his back and doing it anyway. Which, fine, if it gets Claire out of their apartment and out of her funk.

On their way out, Maggie leaves her number on their receipt.

* * *

Claire slams the Impala door shut and relaxes in the passenger seat. “Well that was fun,” she says sarcastically as Dean twists around to pull out of the parking lot without mowing down an unfortunate 1999 Toyota Camry. “Let’s do that again soon.”

“Really?” Dean asks. At her blank stare, he adds, “I never know with you. Did you really have a good time?”

She fiddles with her seatbelt, biting her lip. “I won’t say this again, so cherish this moment: today was not the worst day I’ve ever had.” She huffs out a long breath. “It was almost fun, if you forget that shit in the diner.”

Dean laughs. “I’ll take it, I guess.” He taps his fingers against the wheel as he waits for an opening in traffic to merge onto the highway. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Claire mutters, so low he can barely hear her.

Dean lets the noise of the road take over for a few minutes: the reassuring rattling of the toy soldiers in the back air vent; his baby’s engine purring like a dream; the low ambient hum of her tires carrying them across miles of pavement.

Once he’s as calm as he’s gonna get, he says, “I have a question for you.”

Claire shoots him a look. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Dean shouldn’t have bothered asking. She really is incapable of being anything other than a teenager.

“I’m thinking of asking Cas to marry me,” Dean says quickly. As Claire absorbs his words, his heart kicks up to double-time, hammering away in his chest. “Would you be okay with that?”

��Why are you asking me?” Her eyebrows are drawn together in that same furrow that Cas always has whenever a student stumps him with a question.

“Because you’re his family.” He’s honestly surprised he has to say this part out loud.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Grandmother instead?” Claire asks.

Dean shakes his head. “Cas doesn’t care about her opinion - or Jimmy’s.”

Claire takes another long moment to think that over. “So… are you, what, asking my permission?”

“Yep.”

“To marry my uncle.”

Dean shoots her a look. “I really don’t think the concept is that hard to understand.” Claire’s a smart kid. She’s probably drawing it out on purpose.

“Yeah, but -” Claire breaks off, “It’s weird, though.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You literally called me a weird old man yesterday.”

“But… not this weird.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Claire,” Dean reminds her testily.

Claire waves him off. “I mean, yes, obviously, but what the hell?” Her eyes narrow, accusatory. “Is this why you made me do this weird bonding thing with you today?”

“I -” Dean stutters. “I didn’t make you-”

“It is!” Claire crows. “Were you thinking about it for all 18 holes?”

“No,” Dean says shortly.

“I don’t believe you.” Claire grins. “Were you nervous?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I’m calling BS again. You gotta work on that poker face.” She sits back in her seat, her smugness practically radiating off her in waves.

Dean has the strangest urge to hug her.

Claire lets her hair fall over her face as she picks at her nails. “Just so you know,” she starts in an undertone, “I know it was you who convinced Uncle Cas to take me in. Back in high school.”

“Cas wanted to be there for you,” Dean says quickly, “He just didn’t know how. Honestly,” he says with a laugh, “Cas was scared he’d piss you off more, and then where would you go?”

“Really?” Claire asks, surprised.

Dean nods. “The guy is a great teacher, but he’s not great with kids if there isn’t a desk between them, you know? He's been working on it, though. Having you around taught him a lot.”

“That makes sense,” Claire says, almost to herself. “Anyway, I’ve only really known Uncle Cas while you were together. It’d be more weird if you didn’t get married.”

Dean doesn’t bother turning on the turn signal as he pulls over to the side of the road.

“What the-?” Claire starts, twisting in her seat to look out the window. “Why’d you - oof.”

Dean wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly.

“Ugh,” she groans, “You smell.” But she hugs him back anyway.

#fanfic #supernatural fanfic #profoundnet #offscreen destiel #established destiel #claire novak #dean winchester #snark #banter #so much snark and banter #destiel fanfic #destiel #the story of us verse #rae writes fic

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kurorinde · 3 years

Photo

The Moonrise Chronicles | No. 1 | Pie w/ Pals

Hi friend! Welcome to the first (official) installment of The Moonrise Files! Tonight, I wanted to talk about some goals that I made for myself, with the help of some friends. We were at a Starbucks for a meeting and about to leave for choir practice, so I really just thought of these goals on the spot. I decided to take a look back at what I said and actually work on them. I figured, if it was something I thought of instantly, it must be of some importance to myself!

Without further ado, here are my goals!

1. Have more money (and pay my debts) I just started a new job a few weeks ago, and although it's only part-time and not in my field of study, it's working out really well for my goals (more on this later). I had my first "real world" paycheck and pretty much used it to pay back my family and friends (for all the boba we got over the summer) and put the rest in savings. This past year, I developed a slight shopping problem, and as soon as I started working, I decided that I had to be more responsible with my finances. Especially since I wanted to go on solo/friend trips in the future.

I'll start by saving 50% from each paycheck, and 25% for my travel fund. I also recently listened to a podcast episode by two pals from middle school who travel together frequently. Two things they mentioned that they stopped spending unnecessary money on were food and clothes. I've been pretty good about bringing my own lunch everyday, and I'm *cough* getting better *cough* at buying only clothes I need and will use a lot. I think the only thing that may possibly get me in trouble is the amount I spend (you guessed it) on bobaaa.

2. Clean my room I did a deep clean right after I graduated and even rearranged my furniture. I've just been feeling the bug to Konmari again, especially my clothes. Last time, I was keeping most things only because it was all I had. But I think now that I know my style better (I also want to start dressing better), and I'm able to get my own stuff, it feels like a good time to look at what I have, what I need, and what I don't need.

Also, since I started working, I haven't been in my room much. So yea, things are piling up.

3. Ride my bike and get better at baking I put these two together because they're both hobbies that I want to pursue. I was actually supposed to ride my bike this morning, but since I'm still adjusting to a new sleep schedule, I woke up later than I intended. I'm hoping my work schedule becomes a little more consistent so I can better plan a time to bike every week. The place where I work has a few paths, so I hope to use them while I'm here.

As for baking, the picture at the top is the first pie that I made! I used the Buzzfeed Tasty recipe for apple pie and it's been well received. (My next photo post will be the 2nd pie that I baked.) I've been requested to make some love letter pies for our next meeting. Maybe I'll even confess 🙃 (I probably won't).

4. Pass the FE exam Going back to why my job is perfect: It's in a department that I have genuine interest in (I was considering taking some Parks & Rec classes), and the schedule allows me time to prepare for my licensing exam and plan how I want to move within the company. I studied Civil Engineering and had a love-hate relationship with it, but I've just been following what I think best suits me. Sure, I felt a little like an imposter at graduation and when everybody already had "fancy" jobs right after college, but I'm slowly learning to be okay with my own timeline. I’m hoping that after I get some basic training/certs for the P&R side, I can start applying for some of the entry-level engineering positions and use that in helping me study for the FE.

5. 10 subs This one was kinda a joke. Like I said in my intro post, I used to have a YouTube channel which gained some traction right around the time I was winding it down.

This goal is more of a reminder to post by my own rules. Whether it's YouTube, Instagram, or even here. It's my reminder that, while I can be whoever I want to be online, I want to stay genuine, and that I don't have to pretend in front of real friends.

6. Finish the projects that I started in 2021 I will finish my photo series. I will break my geode. I will finally sort all of my files.

I had a tendency to want to start something, take one step, and not finish. I will finish these projects. It's possible. Everything that I said goodbye to is in the past. It's done. I think I just need to stay focused. But also, when something isn't working out anymore, I should allow myself to give it a proper goodbye.

I think my overall goals are to be a responsible adult and a good friend. Because I was so worried about finding a job almost immediately out of college, I didn't allow myself time to reflect or take care of myself. I went months walking in circles around my mind because I felt that I had to meet everybody else's expectations.

Hopefully I'm active on this account and making progress. I really love writing and journaling, and I hope I reflect that on this blog.

Thanks for being here!

Love, Bobi

P.S. Should I do a separate post just for the photoset? Ask box is open!

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#boba post #pie #apple pie #photography #sunset #starbucks #2014 tumblr #aesthetic #i guess lol #the moonrise files #the moonrise chronicles

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notalwaysthevillian · 3 years

Text

My Whirlpool of a Life

Ships: Kaminari/OC

Word Count: ~2.k

I will not be doing a tag list for this fic.

Masterlist

Chapter 3: First Day of Class

My eyes fluttered open the next morning, meeting an unfamiliar ceiling. It took a minute before I remembered that I was in my dorm.

At UA!

My chest felt bubbly as I got up and started getting ready for the day. The shower was nice, the perfect amount of water pressure alleviating the nerves I was feeling.

Once I was all dressed, I twirled in the mirror. A lot of my shirts were babydoll tops in different styles, but all of them were quite flowy. I knew that would be a problem for combat, should I be caught in civilian clothes, so they were all long enough to tuck into my dark skinny jeans.

Feeling ready, I slid on my black and blue sneakers before heading down to the common area for breakfast.

A few of the others were down there already. Iida seemed as though he’d already finished eating, and was packing up his bag. Todoroki was sitting at the table, plate in front of him. Midoriya was chatting with Iida as he ate; something about a Reciproburst.

Tsu seemed much better, munching on her breakfast at the opposite end of the table. I grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat down with her.

“Uraraka said you weren’t feeling so good yesterday. I hope you’re doing better now?” I gave her a smile. “If you need any medication for anything I probably have it.”

“No, I’m all better now. But thank you!”

“Okay! Just let me know if you ever do. Us girls have to stick together.”

Tsu nodded and I finally saw a big smile. “We do. There’s way less of us than boys in the class.”

“Oh, Nami! I’ve been meaning to ask you about your quirk.” Midoriya sat down next to me. He glanced between the two of us. “Oh, sorry, if I’m interrupting I can ask later!”

“I think we’re good?”

“Yes, we’re good. I’m gonna go find Ochaco.”

Tsu literally hopped off down the hall. Midoriya laughed a little at the expression on my face. “You’ll get used to some of the stranger things we do.”

“Yeah, it’ll take a bit of getting used to for sure.”

“So your quirk! How does it work?”

I went into the same explanation I’d given the girls. Midoriya was frantically writing, so I slowed down a little so he could get it all.

“Thank you! I’m sure the more I see the more I’ll understand.” He flipped his notebook shut. “I have notes on basically everyone in the class, and after training I write down anything new that I noticed.”

“Really? That’s so smart, it helps you get a leg up on everyone else.”

He flushed red. “Uh-huh. Not everyone gets that, so when I start rambling about techniques and stuff they usually tune me out.”

“I’d love to look over your notes sometime. It could really help me catch up a little easier with the rest of the class.”

Midoriya’s face brightened. “Anytime! Just let me know.”

“Midoriya, are you flirting with my girlfriend?” An arm fell across my shoulders. I turned to see Kaminari smiling at me, still looking a little sleepy. “Morning, beautiful.”

“I wasn’t flirting!”

Midoriya’s face was bright red. I couldn’t help but giggle at how panicked he looked. “Deku, he’s just teasing.”

“Relax, Midoriya.”

The green-haired boy took off, leaving me and Kaminari sitting at the table. I could hear the rest of the class slowly filtering down for breakfast.

“Are you going to finish that?” Kaminari pointed to my plate, before stealing the rest of my bacon and popping it in his mouth.

“Hey!”

He grinned, giving me a peck on the cheek. “We’re dating now, we share.”

“Now that I know you’re a food stealer I’ll just make double in the mornings.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“You two are so cute!” Hagakure said, her gloves floating into the kitchen.

Jirou followed, making a face at us. “You’ve been together for less than a day. It’s sickeningly sweet.”

Kaminari made a face back. “Just making up for all that time that we didn’t know each other.”

“Awww!!!”

The rest of the morning passed by in a blur, and before I knew it we were on the five minute walk over to the main school building.

“Nervous?” Kaminari asked.

“No.”

“You’re lying.” He squeezed my hand. “Your grip gets stronger the closer we get.”

I relaxed my hand, feeling myself blush. “Sorry. It’s just…new school and all. What if I’m not good enough for the hero course?”

“No way, you’ll do great!”

“Do you even know what my quirk is?”

Kaminari opened his mouth for a second, before closing it again. “No.”

“I can manipulate water. It’s not the coolest thing in the world, but it’s useful.”

Midoriya appeared next to me. “Are you kidding? I have tons of ideas of how you could utilize that in combat!”

Todoroki turned around. “If it’s anything like how my ice or fire works, I could give you some tips.”

I blinked, not used to the attention. “You guys are so nice, thank you. The Pussycats are nice too, but usually I’m left on my own to train because they get busy.”

“You train with the Pussycats?”

Midoriya stared at Kaminari for a second. “She’s related to the boy who lives with them.”

“OH, RIGHT!”

We entered the building, some of us laughing at Kaminari’s reaction. He winked at me, rubbing a thumb across the back of my hand. “You’ll do just fine here, I know you will.”

The bell rang and everyone sped to their seats. I noticed there was an open desk behind Momo. As soon as I sat down, the door opened and Mr. Aizawa walked in, looking as exhausted as ever.

“Alright. The main focus of the summer is going to be getting your provisional hero licenses. This will allow you to act as the pros do, but only in an emergency. Any other unauthorized use of your quirks could get it taken away, so don’t do anything to cause it to be removed.”

The class broke into murmurs, silenced by a mere look from Aizawa.

“To prepare yourselves, today you’ll be working on creating something new.”

The door opened, revealing Cementoss, Midnight, and Ectoplasm.

“You’ll be creating two new moves.”

“I don’t even have regular moves.” I mumbled, earning a pat on the head from Momo.

Mina, Sero, Kirishima, and Kaminari looked ecstatic. “A test is boring school stuff, but this is hero work!”

Ectoplasm stepped forward. “An ultimate move is something that will ensure you win against your opponent.”

“It’s something so unique to your person, and your quirk, that no one would be able to copy it.” Cementoss added. “You must lean into your strengths.”

Midnight flicked her hair over her shoulder, and I could swear I saw Mineta drooling. “Most of us pro heroes have an ultimate move. Those who don’t are fools. Now, hurry up and change into your costumes, and meet us in Gym Gamma.”

I raised my hand, speaking once Mr. Aizawa had nodded at me. “My costume isn’t here yet.”

“Just put on your gym clothes.”

The class moved, everyone else putting on their costumes while I threw on gym clothes. I was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

Mina must’ve seen the look on my face. “Don’t worry about it! I’m sure your costume will be here soon. You’ll have to show me your sketches, I wanna see how amazing you’ll look.”

“Thanks, Mina!”

We walked to Gym Gamma together, as most of the boys had raced on ahead. Deku was walking with Ochaco, the two of them talking about something I couldn’t hear.

“They’d be cute together.” I nodded over to the pair.

Mina looked over. “Oh, they so would! And I think she likes him.”

As we entered the gym, Midnight pulled me aside. I could hear Cementoss and Aizawa explaining why the gym was made.

“I know you’re pretty new to this, so we’re going to have you show us what you can do first. But not in front of everyone else, they’ll all be doing their own thing and working with Ectoplasm and Cementoss, okay dear?”

A breath of relief fell from my lips. “I thought I was going to have to move straight into an ultimate move.”

“Oh, you will.” Aizawa said as he walked up. The rest of the class had taken off to go work on their moves. “But we want to see how you handle yourself. The Pussycats said that you usually helped out with forest fires, but they’d been working on your combat abilities. You’ll be sparring me.”

“But if you’re trying to see what I can do, shouldn't I spar with someone else? Don’t you erase quirks?”

He sighed. “I won’t be using my quirk against you, just my own combat abilities.”

“That makes more SENSE!” I rolled out of the way as he whipped his scarf at me.

Guess we’re starting now.

Aizawa didn’t let up, coming after me again. I grabbed the water in the room, throwing it in front of me as a shield. As the scarf hit the water, I wrapped it around, using the momentum to leap over him. The water caught me as I landed, becoming an extension of my mind and body, just like the Pussycats taught me.

“Good, you can block. Now show me an attack.”

“I don’t want to hurt -”

The scarf came at me again, wrapping around my leg as I dodged too slowly. I forced water between the fabric and my leg, before expanding it so I could escape.

“You might have to hurt a villain!” Aizawa called out, continuing his own attacks. “If you hesitate, you’re dead.”

The image of my parents at the morgue filled my brain. My ears popped as I whipped a stream of water at him.

There was a loud CRACK, and he was thrown backwards. As he glanced up at me, I saw a welt across his cheek.

“Good.” He rubbed his face. “I have an idea of what you can do. Today’s not about combat, so get to work on your special moves. Midnight will help you.”

He walked toward the rest of the students, observing what they were doing.

“That was impressive.” Midnight put a hand on my shoulder. “He’s quick, it’s hard to land a hit on him.”

“Usually I use that move to help chop down dead trees.” I explained, moving the water around with my hands and demonstrating more of a blade than a whip. “I tweaked it a little so I wouldn’t cut him in half.”

“Heroes often have to adjust their power output to not kill the villains. That’s a sign of a good hero.” She gave me a smile. “Now, I’ve got a few ideas for special moves for you. Can you bounce off the water? Or launch yourself up in any way?”

“I can try.”

“Let’s work on that first.”

It took the rest of the class period for me to figure out just how much pressure to put under my feet to spring myself up, without sending me to the ceiling or not high enough.

“Good work today! Learning a new technique can be difficult but you’ve tried your hardest.”

The praise made me blush. “Thanks! I just hope I can nail this down quickly.”

“I have complete faith in you.”

Kaminari came running over as soon as the bell rang. “Your quirk is amazing, Dew Drop!”

“Dew Drop?”

“Oh, I know you didn’t want me to call you - well, you know. So I came up with a different pet name.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you don’t like it I can -”

“No, I love it!” I interlocked our fingers, pecking him on the cheek. “It’s cute.”

“You can just call me Babe if you want.”

The look in his eyes told me that he would be okay with that, but I could tell that he wanted a cutesy nickname too. Even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“Mmmm, I think I prefer Lightning Bug. As long as it’s okay with you.”

The smile on his face seemed to light up the room. “It’s perfect.”

#mha #my hero academia #kaminari x oc #kaminari/oc

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roseskiesandbutterflies · 3 years

Text

Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26

Ask or comment to be on my taglist! Let me know if it’s for a specific fandom(s) or series. Full list is in my bio.

Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

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

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

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

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

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

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

#good omens #good omens headcanon #good omens fic #good omens imagine #crowley #crowley headcanon #crowley imagine #Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #aziraphale headcanon #Ineffable Husbands

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