#You could do amazing things if you cut the bullshit. If you turn it around.

[letoasai]

Will work for food ~part 3

Part 2 ~ Master Post

Tim was beyond irritated. He could have been on a date. Okay, he wasn’t sure if they were dates but they could have been. Damn it. He’d continued to summon Phantom weekly and they’d gone to lunch every time. Pizza. Barbecue. An amazing ramen place. They went to a music festival and visited all the food vendors. 

Things had been going smoothly. He’d been learning more about the Infinite Realm and about Danny himself and was having a great time despite his meddling siblings trying to butt in at every turn. Dick was a repeat offender but Duke, Cass and even Damien had all attempted to ambush him. It was lucky Danny thought it was hilarious and helped Tim avoid them. 

The last two weeks had been a disaster though. He’d had a four day mission with his own team, and had to deal with his friends poking fun at him while trying not to get shot at. Superboy had vastly exaggerated his interaction with Danny to the others! 

By the time he’d gotten back to Gotham, he’d had a small backlog of cases to get through. It was really cutting into both his CEO work and his freaking lunches with a really cute guy who just so happened to be an immortal king of a realm. 

Just when he thought he’d have a little time in the next day or two, Scarecrow was back on his bullshit with his fear toxins. Hadn’t they just done this recently? How had he gotten out of Arkham so fast? 

Tim was woozy, having taken a breath of the toxins and gotten a swift injury to his leg in the process. He’d say it was luck that he already had an antidote on him to fear toxins, but they all carried one with them at all times. He wasn’t freaking out but he could have done without the lightheadedness. It always briefly had him wondering if he’d gotten a concussion, but it was just a side effect. Usually. 

“You good, babybird?” He heard Nightwings voice through comms. He probably thought he was whispering and had no idea how loud he actually was because of the chaos of the night. 

“Never better.” He grumbled, trying to shake off a chill while limping. There was no one around to see at the moment so it was fine. “I’m headed your way.” 

“Good, Scarecrows around here somewhere. Slippery nut job.” Nightwing said. 

“Pay attention.” Batman’s voice ran through their comms. “He divided us on purpose. This isn’t his usual pattern.” 

There was grumbling across the line, everyone having figured that out already but B wouldn’t be B if he didn’t state the obvious for them some nights. 

Tim grappled from one street to the next, hearing sirens far enough in the distance that they couldn’t have been for this. When he landed safely, he pressed his palms to his masked eyes. The throbbing in his head was so annoying, but the jack hammering of his heart was…something he probably shouldn’t ignore but he was. 

“Not a concussion, Red.” He muttered to himself. “Just a stupid sore leg and Scarecrow’s stupid toxins filtering out.” There was always the option that it was a new strain and his antidote didn’t work as well but he wasn’t hallucinating his worst fears so maybe not. 

Trying to shake off his limp, Tim wandered across a nearly empty parking lot. There were a few abandoned cars, most of them missing their tires and on blocks. He kept an ear out, listening for anything that didn’t belong but it was Gotham, and even in the dead of night there were noises. Traffic, generators, air conditioners, nocturnal animals. There was always ambient noise, the key was ignoring the background hums and focusing on the shuffling goons. The problem he was having now however, was the faint ringing in his ears. 

“Red?” Nightwing's voice drifted across comms again. “I don’t see you yet. Something happen?” 

“No i’m…” Tim swallowed, suddenly parched and feeling overall…bad. He tilted his head back to check his surroundings and realized he’d gone the wrong way. How disoriented was he? “Okay, i might not be okay.” 

“Red Robin?” Batman’s voice was calm but urgent. “Do you need backup.” 

Tim almost stumbled but caught himself. “I feel like shit. I think there was something new in the toxins my antidote didn’t take care of.” 

“Oh, how wonderful. You figured it out so quickly.” 

Tim tensed, whirling around to face Scarecrow. Tim hated to think he’d been snuck up on but the rogue was sitting on one of the ripped apart cars in the lot. 

“I’m coming to you!” Nightwing said firmly. “On my way!” 

Tim waved Scarecrow’s words away cockily and only just noticed the way he trembled. “You’re losing your touch. Not a single, horrifying hallucination.” 

The rogue just chuckled. “Oh no, tonight’s a bit of a tester. Something a little different.” 

“That right?” Fuck. 

“Oh indeed, you don't mind being a guinea pig, do you? This particular batch didn’t have the hallucinogens, no. What it is doing is creeping through your system, forcing your body to activate all too real symptoms of fear.” 

“Seems a little corny for you.” Tim said, knowing the others were listening carefully. 

“And you're shaking.” Scarecrow’s huge grin grew broader. “What else, little bird? Over heating? Or are you freezing? Heart pounding? Knees weak? Feeling a fresh wave of tears building? Do let me know. It’s for science.” 

Tim tsked. He wasn’t about to cry but his throat was tight. It was almost like he was having trouble taking in a breath. 

“Somehow, a gas that makes people sick is so much less impressive than your normal routine.” Tim said, his trembling getting worse, but he was positive he was being tracked by at least some of the others. He just had to stall until Nightwing got there. “A couple of phantom pains the best you could come up with?” 

That wasn’t his best quip but Scarecrow took the bait anyway. “Oh no, it’s very real. Your body might not know why it’s so panicked, but it’s pulling out all the stops. Who knows, maybe your heart could just stop.” 

The problem with a lot of Gotham rogues, was the fact that they were actually intelligent people. The man likely could have gone on and on, but he jumped up and moved onto the offensive. He had a pitchfork tonight, and no one could say the man was original. 

“Now just stay still!” 

Tim dodged, the pitchfork surprisingly leaving quite the hole in the concrete. It should have been a simple dance and disarm kind of fight, but Tim’s shaking just got worse, and his stomach started to hurt, and his heart really was trying to beat out of his chest. It really was like he was terrified, the chills of his body making him sweat. 

“No ever actually stays still when someone’s running at them like a lunatic.” Tim said, but the words were almost hard to get out. He wasn’t choking but his throat was so clogged. 

The sass cost him though, and he was hit in his already wounded leg. It sent him rolling across the parking lot and Scarecrow just laughed. 

“Oh, what fun. It’s a shame though, i really miss the screaming of my patients visually seeing their worst nightmare, i’ll have to combine them.” 

Tim legs nearly gave out from under him when he tried to get up. Injury and the damn shaking leaving him unstable. He’d had to stay crouching, pulling out his staff to dig into the ground in front of him to hold himself up. 

“Regardless of my fears, you’re not one of them.” Tim wheezed, wondering if the hallucinogens were actually kicking in when a mist appeared. It was a frigid kind of cold that left ice crystals on all nearby metals. 

“Oh, we’ll see, little bird. I have plenty for your entire family. In fact, i’d love to see what a second dose would do to you.”

“Nearly there.” Batman said, but there was a hiss to his tone that said he knew it wasn’t going to be a timely arrival. 

“This isn’t good…” Tim whispered, watching Scarecrow pull out a small canister, and he was too wobbling to put more distance between them.

With a laugh, Scarecrow hurled it towards him. “Don’t be afraid to inhale!” 

Tim jerked back using his bo-staff as a crutch to give him some kind of momentum but he watched as the canister exploded midair and…something was strange. The cloud of chemicals had been clear for one second before disappearing. There was no time to worry about how quickly it could have been caught on a breeze when even Scarecrow himself looked confused. 

“So fear is your niche.” 

Tim shuddered, eyes going wide as his head jerked towards the sound of the voice. The gentle reverb of the words slicing through him. His solace was that the ire he heard wasn’t directed at him.

Danny was there. Well, King Phantom was there, having appeared out of thin air. It was the first time Tim had seen that form in a while but his friend was just as hauntingly ethereal as Tim remembered. 

He dropped the canister, and Tim had at least a partial answer. Whatever had gone wrong with the toxins had been Phantom’s doing. 

The king stared down at Scarecrow, but Tim couldn’t see his face from where he now sat. “I know a thing or two about fear.” Danny whispered. 

“Impossible.” Scarecrow spat, puffing up like a cat. None of the Gotham rogues liked their plans being disturbed and by a newcomer no less. “What did you do?! Did you inhale my toxins!? Absorb them!? Fool! You’ll be their next victim! You won’t be so relaxed for long! Even Red Robin’s a terrified mess!” 

“Red Robin! Report!” Batman’s voice was firm in his ear. 

“Relaxed?” Phantom mused, deceivingly calm. He’d stiffened, head turning just a little as if checking on Tim, but he never truly took his attention off the rogue. “No, not relaxed. Angry. As delicious as your parlor tricks were, i take offense to finding you hovering like a predator over my friend.” 

He rose into the air a few feet, and only then did Tim realize that he had been standing instead of floating, well, he was floating now. 

Scarecrow just tsked, unaware of the power in front of him. “Meta? Alien? It doesn’t matter. That combination of chemicals-”

“Was delicious.” Danny repeated. 

Tim scooted away, his leg throbbing. “Phantom.” He muttered, finally answering Batman through strangled breaths. “Phantom’s here.”

“Regardless, the offering was not enough to pacify me.” Danny muttered, the black crown over his head spinning. 

Scarecrow actually began laughing, it started with a chuckle but then it grew into something loud and boisterous. “You’re barely more than a child, are you sure you’re ready for this? The hero game is crowded here in Gotham, and you don’t look like any bird or bat i’ve ever seen.” 

Tim watched the way Danny’s hood swayed to the side as he tilted his head. “I am no bird, nor am i a bat.” 

“I’m sure you’ve impressed your little friends with your meta abilities, but it means nothing in a city like this. Though i see you have your talents. How are you unaffected by my toxins?” 

Ice erupted from the ground, enguling Scarecrow’s legs an inch at a time, creeping up his body without a hint of warning. “You misunderstand.” Danny whispered. “I am not here for a conversation. I’m here for my friend, and to teach you that dabbling in fear is childsplay to a being like myself.” 

Tim couldn’t see… Danny was facing away from him but his galaxy cloak billowed out around him without even the slightest breeze. There were shadows…? Something? Tim couldn’t see though he tried. What he could see was Scarecrow, and even with his face covered, his body language betrayed his growing horror. 

“You can not frighten the dead.” Danny said, but in a voice that was decidedly not his own. 

Scarecrow started screaming, a desperate sound that had him thrashing in place, the ice now well around his chest. Tim didn’t know what the rogue was seeing but if scaring someone to death was really a thing… 

“Phantom.” Tim tried to raise his voice and had to close his eyes to shove away the sudden lightheadedness. He was shivering. “W..we good…?” 

Whatever was going on paused, and Danny seemed to reign himself in. The strange movement of his cloak stopped and Tim briefly made a mental note to ask Danny what kind of other forms he might have. 

Danny turned to him, looking normal, though he hadn’t seen his white hair in a while. “I forget sometimes…” He commented, voice even softer than usual. “The living are so fragile.” 

Scarecrow was still screaming, but his head was lulling back and he looked seconds away from passing out. He was held in place by the ice, and obviously wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Yeah, we’re like that.” Tim muttered, shoulders slumping now that the danger was taken care of, it didn’t stop the way his body twitched. His stomach hurt so bad. 

Danny landed by his side silently, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah. Leg’s a little messed up but it’ll heal. The… the toxins in my system are going to have to run their course, unless i can work out how to s..somehow come up with a new antidote before then. St..stupid…” 

Danny cocked his head to the side, wispy white hairs floating around his face. It was unfair how attractive he was. “Want me to eat it?” 

Tim heard a confused “Wut?” from his comm. Spoiler summing up that comment nicely. 

“I can absorb emotion. Because it can sustain us. I just think of it as a different way to eat.” Danny said. Tim breathed a sigh of relief that that half ghost had been around him long enough to know that he liked explanations when he didn’t understand something. 

“That’s w..why the fear toxins didn’t affect you.” 

“Mhmm.” Danny hummed. “Gotta get that recipe though. That was tasty. Frighty would love it. 

Tim sighed, feeling another wave of nausea and he…was pretty sure he was seeing colors he shouldn’t be. “You always leave m…me with more questions than answers. My s..symptoms aren’t emotional. Chem..chemically induced.” And fuck this was so embarrassing in front of the King of the Infinite Realm. 

Danny hummed, and if Tim wasn’t mistaken, he sounded amused. He leaned closer, fingers touching Tim’s face and all at once, he started to feel better. His shaking stopped almost immediately and he was left to assume that despite the chemicals he’d inhaled, Danny was still able to take them from him. Honestly, scientifically it made no sense whatsoever. 

At least his stomach didn’t hurt anymore. 

“What do i owe you for this one?” Tim asked with a weary smile. Other than a sore leg, the other symptoms seemed to disappear. 

“I got two separate fear meals. I’m good.” Danny chuckled, helping Tim to his feet only seconds before Batman and Nightwing arrived. 

Nightwing made a beeline for Tim, grabbing him in the tightest hug while Batman was instead looking Scarecrow over who had, in fact, passed out at some point. 

“Wing, watch it! Watch it! The leg!” 

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Nightwing clung anyway. He then held a hand out to Danny. “Thank you so so much, your Majesty! Your timing is to die for!” 

Tim knew he was in trouble when Danny took Nightwings hand to shake, and his eyes lit up. “Wing…” Tim said in a warning tone that went unheard. 

“No big deal. Visiting Red Robin really lifts my spirits.” Danny said with a small grin, fangs a little larger than in his living form. 

Nightwing tipped his head back and laughed. “Yes!” 

“No…” Tim groaned, shoving away from his brother. 

“In all seriousness, i’m glad i came.” Danny said. “I wasn’t sure if you were trying to summon me or not so i thought i’d poke my head in and see.” 

“I…didn’t realize i did?” Tim muttered, checking his utility belt. “I do have the spell circle but…” 

Danny shrugged “Well you said ‘Phantom’ at some point. I thought it sounded a little different but well…i didn’t think it would hurt to double check. I’m glad i was able to help.” 

“We appreciate it, your Majesty.” Batman commented in a gruff tone. He very much did not appreciate it but couldn’t be mad about someone saving Tim when he wouldn’t have gotten there in time.“What exactly did you do? This ice is-” 

“Oh, right.” Phantom waved his hand flippantly and the ice disappeared. Scarecrow dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. “He’ll probably suffer nightmares for the next week but he’ll shake it off.” 

“I have… so many questions…” Tim repeated. 

Danny just looked at him fondly. “You always do.” 

“I’ll take him in.” Batman said. “Red Robin, return for medical treatment.” 

“I’m fine, B.” Tim said, but he was getting a look. “Grab whatever he has on him so we can make new antidotes.” 

Batman grunted, and it was possibly lucky that the rogue was already knocked out. 

“Hey, hey, King Phantom-” Nightwing began. 

“Just Phantom is fine.” 

Nightwing was positively giddy. “What do you say to four a.m. waffles? I know you ate the fear or whatever but you deserve a proper thank you meal.” 

There was something so boyishly charming about the way Danny smiled. His constellation freckles even seemed to twinkle. “As long as they don’t bite back. I’d like that.” 

“Concerning.” Tim hummed, testing his weight on his leg. It wasn’t broken but he wouldn’t be grappling anywhere else tonight.

“Great!” Nightwing said, tapping his own comm. “Spoiler will meet us there!” 

Danny glanced at Tim. “Do uh.. You go…” He gestured to them. “Dressed like this?” 

“All the time.” 

“Okay then.” Danny said, and the only adjustment he made was to reach up above him and grab his crown. It disappeared from view. 

“So many questions.” Tim heaved a sigh. “I guess breakfast would be nice. We haven’t done breakfast yet.” 

Danny nodded once. “At least i feel like i earned it this time. You’ve just been treating me so much lately.” He sounded as close to shy as Tim had ever heard and it was killing him. 

Ugh, now he was doing the death puns… 

“You don’t have to earn your food with us.” Tim said softly. 

“RR is right, you know?” Nightwing beamed. “You should totally get him to bring you home one night, Phantom. Best home cooking you’ve ever had.” 

Danny hummed, “It’s a low bar, but that could be…nice.” 

“We’ll discuss it over waffles!” Nightwing just…decided. 

Tim shook his head, not sure how he felt about these two getting along but Danny was smiling and Tim was a sucker for those smiles. 

“Alright.” Tim said, stifling a yawn. “My leg is stiff so one of you is gonna have to help me get there, but let’s go eat.” 

Danny’s green eyes just glowed with mirth. “No problem.”

[singmyaubade]

No Longer Yours

James Potter x Female!Reader

A/N: Hello everyone! Now, I know I took so long to post this part but I wanted to think out everything and understand the direction of where the story is going! Thank you to everyone who was understanding and continued supporting me and this story, thank you so much!

IB: In The Cold November Rain by @sweetsweetjellybean (This is truly amazing guys and what truly inspired this entire series so please check it out!)

Summary: James had disregarded you for multiple years, but when you have an epiphany in your final year, how does it feel to taste his own medicine?

Warning: It may contain swearing, use of weed, and soon-to-be smut.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The fresh sunlight peaked through the curtains in your room right onto your face as you squinted. Nothing like a beam of light hitting your face after three days of avoiding the Potter family.

You hadn't left your room and Dot kept appearing, asking if you needed anything and would give you dinner when it was time. You knew Euphemia was up to this but she wanted to give you your space which you respected.

You loved Euphemia dearly but you didn't know how to face her or what to say about everything. In all honesty, you were a bit embarrassed about the whole thing.

You wanted to go home badly but your Father was still sick and your Mom had to stay with him so it was with the Potters for Christmas which was a tragedy within itself.

You had asked your Mom if you could just go next door and stay there alone but she considered it rude and the Potters would still have to check up on you so it was easier if you stayed with them.

You just couldn't stop thinking about everything which was more painful.

You never felt like you acted obsessive when it came to James but hearing his words in your heard,

"I couldn't get away from you, and the only time I could was when I dated Lily; it was the best months of my life,"

The words echoed in your head during the last three days. You knew you were an amazing friend to James and always thought about his needs and comforted him.

And he had the audacity to say such cruel words when all you had been was kind and caring towards him.

Not only did it anger you but you felt humiliated that you could care for such a hateful and disgusting person.

He hadn't even tried to approach you about the situation, he just continued to live in the same house with you without such of a word.

The only one who did try to talk to you was Sirius and even when you tried to ignore him, he refused it and to admit, he was hard to ignore.

"Oh Y/N!" Sirius sang loudly outside of your door, "I know you can hear me!" You clutched your pillow over your ears to drown him out, "If you don't let me in, I'm gonna tell everyone what I saw you do in the girls bathroom sixth year," He said, urging you to the door as it swung open.

You glared at him while he had a grin on his face as he stepped inside your room, "Wow, Mom really set you up with the perks," He looked around in atonishment.

"What do you want?" You said sincerely.

"How are you?" He nervously asked, scratching the back of his head.

You scoffed, "Peachy,"

His face frowned, "I know you don't want to hear about James-" He started.

You cut him off, "Ding ding! I don't," You replied, laying on your bed as Sirius sighed.

"Prongs is a dickhead," Sirius started, earning a nod from you, "But he's trying to turn the love he has for you into hate," He explained as you looked off to the window, "So that he won't miss you but he does dearly," Sirius pleaded.

"Why can't he be the one to be mature?" You asked lightly, "Why does everyone always have to speak for him and excuse his poor behavior?" You exhaled, crossing your arms over your silk nightgown.

"James will never deserve you," Sirius answered, "But I do think a serious conversation is needed without the dramatics,"

You knew that you agreed that you needed to have a conversation with James to put an end to all the bullshit and to just finally be done but you didn't know what to say or how to start it.

"The only reason he hasn't tried talking to you is because he knows you will see how he truly feels and who you've always known," Sirius spoke, "It's up to you but I know that whatever you decide will be the best option," He gave you a reassuring smile.

You looked at him, smiling back, "When did you become so wise?" You asked.

He shrugged, "I'm afraid I've gotten fed up of James and gotten bored," He snickered as you giggled, "I'll see you," He said, kissing your forehead lightly as you nodded before he exited the room.

James didn't deserve you and he probably never would but you remembered that young boy who had been your friend for all of those years.

You couldn't excuse James's actions but you could find it in your heart to give him the much dreaded conversation that has been waiting to happen.

And despite hating him more than you ever have in your life, you had to find it in you to at least explain your feelings.

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts, "Sirius?" You asked confused as the door swung open.

You were surprised to see your four best friends at the door, smiling at you.

"Ew why was that your first guess?" Marlene questioned disgusted as your face glowed in excitement, racing over to your four best friends at the door.

You embraced them all in a tight hug as you pulled back, "What are you guys doing here?" You gleamed in excitement.

"Well, we heard about what happened from Sirius and Euphemia suggested that we come," Dorcas answered.

"And well, we couldn't say no," Mary added.

"But what about Christmas with your families?" You asked, frowning at the fact that they won't spend Christmas with their families.

"It's just one Christmas and I'm sure Petunia will have a better Christmas without me," Lily giggled as you gave her a soft smile.

"Well I can't say it's that merry here," You said, sitting on your bed as they all walked in and Dorcas started admiring the bookshelf in the corner.

Lily sat down next to you as Mary and Marlene shared the chair across from you and Lily, "How about we actually have one day to celebrate your birthday instead of focusing on James?" Lily comforted.

"It's never one of those days," You sighed.

"But it can be," Dorcas smirked, holding up candies.

"Candy?" Mary asked with a snort.

Dorcas rolled her eyes, "No you idiot, there's weed inside them," She whispered.

Your mouth agaped, "Where did you even get that?" You asked.

"Remus is one hell of a dealer," Dorcas replied, grinning ear to ear.

"I don't know about that," Lily said, swallowing.

"You did say that you wanted to celebrate Y/N's birthday," Marlene replied with a smart-ass tone.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," Lily argued.

"We don't have to do it Lils," You smiled, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"Yes my sweet Lily flower," Marlene walked over, pinching Lily's cheek, "Let's not prevent you from blooming," She snickered.

Lily stared daggers into Marlene, "You know what, just to prove you wrong McKinnon," Lily replied, walking over to Dorcas and snatching the bag from her.

"Wait a second!" Dorcas softly shouted before Lily ate two of the candies.

Lily's face contorted into disgust and then a gulp before shaking her head, trying to shake off the flavor.

"Is that safe?" You asked, walking over to Lily and checking her eyes.

"Yeah but it just means she's gonna fucked out of her mind," Mary snorted.

"Lily, you are the one who tells us to never fall for Marlene's tatics yet you do this!" Dorcas said, sitting Lily down.

"I feel fine!" Lily persisted.

"For now," Marlene snickered.

You glared at Marlene as she put her hands defensively, "Well if we wanna follows Lily lead," Mary said, eating two like Lily did.

"Count me in!" Marlene cheered, eating two straight after.

"Should we?" Dorcas asked as you shrugged your shoulders and took two as Dorcas did the same.

You both ate the candies and your face contorted the same Lily's did. It tasted like a bitter, earthy taste as if you were chewing cannabis.

"And now we wait," Marlene said, plopping down.

You yawned as Marlene exasperated, "I don't feel anything!"

"Well duh you idiot, it takes a little bit," Mary chortled, continuing to lay down on the carpet of the living room next to LIly.

"You did insist we move downstairs because you thought the aroma of Y/N's room was ruining it," Dorcas snorted.

Marlene crossed her arms, "It seemed right at the time," She pouted, sitting down in the big armchair.

"Maybe we should've took more," Mary suggested.

And that's when everything took a turn for the worst.

You felt like you couldn't fully think straight and you had this sweet, bitter taste in your mouth. You felt relaxed like a huge weight had been lifted in your shoulders and you could be alone in your own thoughts.

"Took more?" Lily giggled.

"Yeah duh," Mary said, giggling too.

"Duh," Dorcas repeated as you all laughed uncontrollably.

"Stop, I can't breathe," You horrendously laughed, holding your stomach in your hands.

"Guys, I'm gonna pee myself!" Marlene cried out, rocking back and forth laughing in the chair.

"Guys, we are so loud," Lily whispered, shushing all of you while uncontrollably laughing.

You felt like you were gonna explode, "You're right, you're right," You whispered, trying to calm down.

"Okay guys silent game," Dorcas shushed, covering her hand over her mouth.

Suddenly Sirius walked in with a confused grin on his face on why you all were whispering and trying to be silent, "What are you guys bloody doing?" He asked which made you all break.

You all bursted out into outrageous laughs while holding your stomach's, trying not to explode. James walked downstairs with a confused smile on his face as he watched the scene in front of them.

"What's up with them?" James asked, the corner of his mouth upturning.

"No idea," Sirius shrugged, walking into the dining hall as James followed him.

"Girls," Euphemia appeared from the dining hall as you all tried to shush yourselves, "Come into the hall for dinner," She gave a comforting smile.

'Shit.' You mentally thought.

Lily was the first one to rise up, looking at the rest of you with a worried look on her face. You stood up, trying to inhale the next laughing round.

You walked towards the dining hall as you could hear the girls behind you, whispering and saying to "act normal."

You sat down next to James as his face was mentally confused on why you had made that decision in the first place.

You felt like your eyes fluttering close as you laid your head on James's shoulder. You could feel him shift uncomfortably but let it happen without questioning you.

Euphemia saw the state in front of her in utter shock, "Y/N, are you okay dear?" She asked, worried.

You didn't want her to suspect that you had taken anything or were under the influence,

So all you had to do was act normal.

How hard could it be?

You straightened yourself on your chair, taking your head off of James, "I'm fine!" You said, louder than you wanted to, earning a worried look from James, Sirius, Fleamont, and Euphemia, "I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night," You cleared your throat.

"I'm sorry to hear that dear, do you need any potions?" Euphemia asked.

"No, no, that's okay," You smiled as she returned one back but still looked worried.

"James, can you grab me a piece of that chicken and some potatoes?" You asked, looking up at him as his eyes showed visible shock.

He hesitated before grabbing a piece of the chicken using a fork and knife and placing it on your plate and grabbing the spoon to put potatoes on the plate. You muttered a 'thanks' before digging into the chicken and potatoes.

You weren't the only one because the rest of the girls were doing the same. Sirius, Fleamont, Euphemia, and James all had shocked expressions, wondering if you guys were wolves.

Fleamont whispered something to Euphemia as she assured him that you guys were fine even if it didn't look like it.

"Y/N, are you okay?" James whispered into your ear.

You smiled, "I'm fine James, how are you?" You asked before stifling a laugh.

"Are you blazed?" He asked with a scoff.

"Shh," You laughed while shushing, "Don't tell Mom,"

"Bloody hell," James replied, trying not to laugh at the situation, "Okay, try to follow my lead," He whispered before standing, "Mum, Y/N is not feeling well, I'm gonna take her to lay down," He said, helping you stand up by grabbing your waist.

"Do you want me to come with?" Euphemia asked, rising up.

"No, no, it's fine," James stopped her, "She just needs to rest,"

Euphemia nodded, "Okay well, feel better dear," Euphemia smiled as James began walking you and you squeezed Euphemia's shoulder in a 'thank you,'

James whispered a few things that you couldn't make out while taking you up the stairs, helping you on each step. You almost tripped over a step as James grabbed your waist, leading you up the stairs.

You laughed obnoxiously as you went from room to room, trying to get to your own. James could only try not to laugh and be the serious one in the moment.

He was leading you to your room but you placed your hands on the door frame, stopping him, "No, your room," You frowned.

"Y/N, you need to sleep in your bed," James insisted, trying not to laugh.

"Jamesie, pleaseeee," You pleaded as he couldn't force you through the door frame and gave up.

"Okay," James sighed, "Come on," He didn’t want to see the sad look on your face any longer so he had to cave.

You cheered gleefully as James leaded you to his room, carefully helping you step towards his bed before laying you on the bed.

You looked up at him with a smile as he blushed, "I'm gonna go back downstairs and then I'll sleep in your room," He said, moving to leave.

"Wait!" You yelled, raising up, "Lay with me," You looked at him in the eyes as you looked at him back.

His mouth agaped, "Y/N, I don't know if this is a good idea," He replied.

"We aren't doing anything, I just want you to lay with me," You said, pleading with your eyes.

He walked over to the other side of you, laying up on the headboard as you moved your head to his chest, snuggling into him. His heart was beating faster than you ever could have felt it beat.

"Why are you so mean to me?" You asked, frowning into his chest.

He ran his hands through your hair, "Because I don't know what else to do," He whispered, slowing his strokes down, "I really am sorry Y/N, I don't know if you can forgive me,"

"Just talk to me," You said sadly in his chest.

"When you are sober, I will," He chuckled.

"Promise?" You asked.

"Promise," He said as your eyes fluttered close, sleeping into his chest, "I promise Y/N," He whispered, kissing your head before closing his eyes too.

A/N: For one, I am so sorry for how long this chapter has taken. Number two, this was based on my experience of being high so guys, please don't hate and say this isn't the right experience! This chapter was not that long and not very angst filled but I know my plan! Again, if you hated this, I apologize and thank you so much for reading.

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Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve. 

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?” 

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.” 

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands. 

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue. 

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her. 

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-” 

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles. 

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for. 

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?” 

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA. 

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while. 

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.” 

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her. 

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.” 

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face. 

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.” 

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too. 

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them. 

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.” 

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them. 

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.” 

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now. 

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time. 

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them. 

Jealousy. Longing. Needing. 

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person. 

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath. 

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes. 

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.” 

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.” 

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him. 

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head. 

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat. 

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side. 

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.” 

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima. 

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’ 

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood. 

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty. 

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely. 

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor.  “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.” 

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.” 

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life. 

The Paris Opera Ballet

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve and Chrissy as two internet-famous chefs/bakers, Steve with a channel focusing on (not always) easy homemade and nutritious meals, Chrissy with a baking channel full of body positivity to spite her mom.

They both get invited to something like Phoning It In from the Try Guys - a baking/cooking competition where they have to guide the actual chefs only through a pay phone. As the TG's show says: "the mind of a chef paired with the hands of an idiot". And the idiots in question are their best friends - Robin and Eddie. Which shouldn't be that bad, but then...they actually have to swap them. And they can't tell them what they're making.

It's a holiday episode so the theme is gingerbread.

Steve is slumped in the phone booth, sometimes covering the receiver and asking Chrisy why, why would her best friend refuse to measure ingredients in anything more precise than "a bit", "a bit more", "kinda enough", "oooh might be a bit too much" and "a fuckton".

Chrissy tries very hard to explain to Robin that artistic expression is an amazing thing, but hot sauce and gingerbread might be too artistic for the judges. Robin disagrees. Chrissy pleads with her and eventually talks Robin into just including some chilli flakes in her batter and not the hot sauce as a topping.

Eddie spends half of the prep time complaining to Steve that a gingerbread house is lame, it should have been a gingerbread castle. Robin agrees.

Robin deciding to give her tiny gingerbread men flannel shirts and spending way too much on decorating them. She runs out of time very soon and just writes "THIS IS FLANEL" into a shirt-shaped blob.

Steve and Eddie shamelessly flirting despite having never met each other and then threatening violence in equal measure to get the other one do what they want. "I bet your eyes are more beautiful than the entire sky full of stars Stevie, also I might have dropped one extra spoon of spices into the gloopy thingy and I don't want to get my hands more dirty than they are so I'll just leave it in-" "Eds, you vile seductress, your voice could charm many a seaman but if you don't get that spicy glob out of the batter I swear I will shave your head."

Robin somehow going from following the instructions into a full rambling mode and before they know it, she's just cutting hipster-shaped gingerbread flanelmen and telling Chrissy nearly her full life story, basically turning the prep into a therapy session. Chrissy listens and nods and just sometimes interjects with "people can be such jerks just because you're different, can you just quickly check that the temperature is still the same? Thank you Robs, now back to that asshole in your uni class-"

In the end, they finally meet at the judging table and present their work, bullshitting their way through explanations of many choices that were made (because the two actual chefs are not permitted to speak, only the great minds).

Steve almost sobs when he sees piped (and very melted) bats on toothpicks around the gingerbread castle, because of course Eddie made a castle. "I meant for that to happen, for the shock value" he announces when one of the bats starts a domino effect and knocks down the rest.

Chrissy's smile gets a little bit stiff when she sees attempted man buns on the gingerbread men's heads - ones which have unfortunately melted and they now have flowing ponytails. Slightly burned.

Steve confidently claims that the reason why his gingerbread house is black and has spires is because his little brother adores Dungeons and Dragons and he wanted to give him a cool prop for the final encounter with the big evil. When the castle crumbles because Eddie didn't bake it long enough, Steve just dramatically stands up and announces that the evil warlock has been defeated. Eddie almost faints behind the screen and unceremoniously asks Robin if that gem of a man is taken.

Chrissy explains how the gingerbread men are wearing flanel in honor of her best friend's uncle who is the flanel overlord. When the judges bite into the figures and taste the chilli flakes, Chrissy earnestly tells them that Eddie's uncle is a man with hidden depths and spicy personality (Eddie chokes on his own tongue at that) and Robin was kind enough to reflect that.

In the end, it doesn't matter who won. Eddie asks Steve (after he tastes the gingerbread bat, gingerbat) if he's still about to shave his head and Steve says it would be a shame, but he can make it up to him by inviting him for coffee. Robin awkwardly thanks Chrissy for listening to her and Chrissy admits she loved her rambling, that she hates it when it's quiet.

It all ends well (except for the gingerbread).

[spicyclover]

You betrayed me

Summary : I played dumb but I always knew. I kept quiet so I could keep you. You betrayed me, and I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt.

Next part : You used me

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

He’s sticking a knife in my heart. I can't breathe. It is fucking insane. Eight months of this bullshit. Eight months, and I was fucking blind. I should have known it was all a lie. All the little touches, all the little words of love, all the caresses. Fuck I’m stupid. Eight months in a relationship with this asshole. I played dumb but I always knew.

"I'm sorry," sobs Lando through my bedroom door. "It's fuck up." His hand tries for the hundred time to open the door without success. "Let's talk baby, you're overreacting."

"You fucking lie to me, you make me believe thing and I'm overreacting?" I explode in anger. How dare he put it on my fault? "I'm a dare. You realize it is fuck up!"

"I know." I push him out of my way and head for the kitchen. "Let me explain..."

"Explain?" I turn around and my eyes meet his. At that moment, I feel only pity for this asshole. Pity, because he's only a shameless dog. "Do. Enlighten me, Lando."

Lando’s eyes fall to the ground. He no longer dares to look at me and his tears flow. I can’t believe it. He stabs me in the back, and he's the one crying. The last few months come to mind. Our first meet, his eagerness to go out together. This mania to leave me on read until he deigns to give me his attention again. Him refusing to meet my parents or him refusing that I come to his house. The many parties we spent apart because he didn’t want his friends to know we were together. What a hell-hole shit, that scumbag.

"You were a dare. Yes, and I am sorry. I feel terrible because the more time I spent with you and the more I realize you are amazing."

"Not amazing enough for you to settle for me though." You whisper with bitterness between your teeth. His hands tries to cope my face but I slam them down. "DON'T fucking touch me."

He raises his hand in defeat and continues. "I can't settle, not right now. I can't." More tears fall from his cheeks.

"Why are you crying Norris?" I ask, gritting my teeth. "YOU DON'T GET TO FUCKING CRY." This time I yell. I can't take this anymore. I need to walk. I’m starting to walk around the kitchen. I’m thinking about this situation, a why. I know I’m never gonna have the real reason why he hurt me. I turn and turn like a lion in its cage. The pain rises and the anger boils. I want to slap him, to shout the worst, yet I am unable to form coherent sentences in my mouth. "You're sick. You disgust me."

"I'm sorry..."

"STOP! FUCKING SAY I'M SORRY. YOU'RE NOT." As I leave my body, I see the plate on the counter end up in my hand and the next second explode against the wall behind this traitor. "You betrayed me, Lando. And I know damn well that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt."

Lando raises his face that he hid at the impact of the plate next to him and he turns to me bewildered. Yet he seems to be cut off. His reaction doesn’t come. He’s just looking me. I must look crazy. I’m wearing one of his oversize t-shirt, we’re in the middle of the night, and my hair is pissed. My eyes are swollen and I’m breathing loudly. I want him out of my sight, out of my life.

"Get out." I said without emotion in my voice. He doesn't move. His stare is still on me and I can't. I'm going to be sick. "GET OUT!" He jumps and looks around. He finally reacts. He takes a few steps towards the door.

"All this" He pauses, searching his words. "It wasn't meant to hurt you..."

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 3

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None really. Angst. Dean being a bit of an asshole. A brief, near sexual encounter. Smidge of fluff.

Word Count: 3,654

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So, here I am with chapter 3. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the very kind comments that this series has received so far. You're all fabulous.

Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

The next morning Dean was sitting at the table in his tent, listening to the camp waking up around him, when his tent flap opened and Cas strolled in. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, we gotta put up a piece of wood on the tent poles or something so people can knock.” He said in a surly and growly, early morning voice. When Cas didn’t respond, he challenged him with an even surlier tone. “What? Why are you here?”

Cas walked further into the tent. “I saw you gave Y/N back her daughter.” Dean raised his hand and then dropped it, conceding the point. “And,” Cas continued, raising his hand in the air and waving it slightly, “no more manacles.”

Dean spread his arms wide. “These are all things I already know, Cas; why are you telling me this?”

Cas shrugged slightly. “So, can I assume this means you no longer think she’s going to turn into a monster at any minute?”

Dean blew out a puff of air. “It means, she’s been here a week, and hasn’t turned yet. And since that isn’t really something that happens to people who get bit, I think I can be reasonably certain she won’t turn, randomly, out of the blue one day. And I gave her back her kid so she can look after her, and I can get Risa back as a soldier instead of a nanny.”

Cas wore a very enthusiastic expression as he moved closer. “Come on, even you have to admit that this is exciting.”

Dean arched a brow. “Exciting?”

Cas’ voice became awestruck. “Dean, this is the most hopeful sign we’ve had in…years!”

“Aw, don’t come at me with that hopeful bullshit!” Dean’s scowl and fierce countenance was immediate and slightly intimidating, even to the angel. 

“Hope is nothing but a fucking lie, okay? We know it. We HOPED we could stop Lilith breaking seals and we didn’t, we HOPED we could stop the apocalypse, but we failed at that too. We HOPED we could save everyone, and well, we’re doing a pretty piss poor job of that, aren’t we? Every single time we go out on a raid, I hope we come back with the same number of people we left with, but it doesn’t happen very often, does it? We hoped -” 

Dean cut himself short and swallowed hard, lowering his voice. “We hoped that Sam would be strong enough to say no, but…he wasn’t. I hoped I could save him. And-” He cut himself off again and rubbed a hand hard across his face. 

“So just don’t come at me with ‘hopeful’.” Dean said, sneering the word.

He tapped his fingers against his chest. “Cause I gotta live in the reality of this situation. And look, if you wanna hide away from that reality, you wanna get blitzed and bombed every day, and pretend like you’re some kind of sexual guru, fuck around with dozens of girls, I don’t really give a shit. Okay? Do it. But I,” he banged his chest with his whole fist this time, “I have to live in the reality of our lives.”

Dean stood up and stepped closer to Cas, swinging his arm out sideways. “And the reality is I have no fucking clue why that woman hasn’t turned.” He shrugged dismissively. “Maybe the person who bit her wasn’t fully turned themselves, or maybe they didn’t fully break the skin so it didn’t take completely. Who knows. All I know is that she’s probably not gonna turn and so now we’ve got one more mouth to feed. Two, actually.” He said holding up two fingers. “And two more people draining our resources.”

He stepped back and turned away, giving Cas his profile. “That’s the reality. So you wanna join me in it, great. If not,” He turned his head to look at him, lifting his hand towards the entrance, “there’s the door. Or, you know, the tent flap.”

He dropped down onto the chair he’d vacated and rubbed a hand across his lips. He looked up when Cas spoke softly. 

“I don’t wanna live in this reality, Dean. I just can’t anymore. So I choose hope, I choose to be hopeful that maybe she marks a change, maybe things can be different. I’m telling you, this reality isn’t the only option.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s my only option. I learned a long time ago, and you should’ve too - hope is dangerous. Reality can’t hurt you like hope can.”

Cas’ expression was discouraged and disappointed as he nodded, looking away from Dean. He said nothing more as he turned and walked away.

***

A little while after Cas left, Dean moved out to his campfire and cooked and ate his ration of eggs and potatoes. As he drank his coffee, he was actively trying to push the argument with Cas out of his head. He had a camp to lead, he didn't need this crap clouding his judgment.

It was ridiculous to think the woman represented some kind of new hope for mankind. He rolled his eyes at the very notion.

Still, he found himself calling out to Johnston as the soldier walked by. The man stopped abruptly and turned fearful eyes on Dean. It drove Dean a little crazy that after more than two years of Johnston serving the camp, of protecting it and helping to run the day-to-day work and activities there, he still seemed petrified of Dean. 

I can't possibly be that scary, Dean thought with a deep scowl. Not like I've had him flogged for looking at me wrong or something.

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the fear radiating from the other man.

“You settled Y/N and her daughter?” He asked.

Johnston's blue eyes were slightly bulging and his prominent Adam's apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

Dean waited a minute for him to elaborate before prodding him gruffly. “And?”

The other man seemed at a loss and Dean snapped his fingers impatiently. “And where did you put them?”

Understanding finally lit in Johnston's eyes and he began nodding. “Oh, yes sir. I put them in the southwest corner. Fourth row, the tent on the end.” He seemed proud to get that much out. But then he raised a finger. “Oh, the tent is red.”

Dean nodded and waved at him. “As you were.” 

Johnston saluted (even though Dean had told him a million times not to) and hurried on. Dean sighed deeply and without thinking about it too much, he headed in the direction of the red tent. 

When he got there he shouted out a hello, feeling slightly foolish and vowing then and there to make it a project to put some kind of wood near tents’ openings so people could knock.

The flap opened and Y/N's face lit up with a beaming smile when she saw him. “Hi!” 

Not knowing what to do with her enthusiasm, he just nodded. There was a slightly awkward moment and then Emma, her big blue eyes staring up at Dean, poked her head out from behind her mom, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around her hips and leaning her head into her side.

Y/N lifted her arm a little so Emma could shuffle out from behind her a bit more. She combed down Emma's slightly flyaway curls with her fingers and then settled her hand on the little girl's thin shoulders.

She gestured to Dean. “Say hi to Mr. Winchester.”

The little one just pressed closer and looked away from Dean to bury her face in her mother's side.

Y/N gave him a slightly chagrined look. “She isn't usually this shy.” She said by way of apology. 

But Dean simply shook his head. Unlike Johnston, he understood all too well why this blue-eyed moppet was scared of him. She'd watched him nearly end her mother's life - not something she was ever likely to forget.

Dean hated that that realization came with a trace of guilt. Feeling very annoyed with himself, he straightened up and nodded curtly.

“Good.” He said succinctly, responding to nothing. “I just wanted to make sure you were settled properly.”

He turned in an abrupt about face and started walking away. 

“Dean, wait!” Y/N called out to him. He turned back to see her wave Emma back into the tent and head towards him. When she reached him she wore her bright smile again, and he frowned deeper as a result.

“I wanted to ask you about something.”

Dean said nothing, waiting for her to continue. She seemed to be a little nervous, fiddling with her hair. She finally clasped her hands in front of her and continued. 

“So, I was talking to Eric?” She said as though it was a question. Dean did give her a puzzled look.

“Eric?” He asked.

Y/N had opened her mouth to continue talking, but then closed it and gave her head a shake, pointing to the side at nothing in particular. 

“Eric Johnston? The…soldier that brought us to this tent and helped us set it up.”

Dean nodded in recognition. Yes, he remembered now, that was his first name. He never used it. “Right.” He waved her on. 

“And I was asking about school for Emma, but he said there isn't one.”

Dean shook his head. “No, the parents, guardians, they look after that themselves.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, but I was thinking…well, I was a third grade teacher in the…before.” She thumbed behind her as though their former, normal lives were just right behind them, around the corner, instead of existing eons ago.

She shrugged. “So, I was thinking that maybe I could start a kind of school for the kids here. Eric figured there were about 35 or 40 of them. So I thought we could hold lessons somewhere outside most days, but if the weather's bad, maybe we could use the main cabin.”

Dean was scowling harder now, so she rushed on. “It would only be for a few hours a day. Wouldn't be anything spectacular, but it could help them with reading and math, and just some basics. Keep the kids' minds occupied and give their parents a couple of hours on their own.”

She shrugged. “It's nothing much, but it might help people feel a little more hopeful about the future.” She finished with another bright smile.

Dean felt his ire rise with that word again - hopeful. This woman was going to upset everything, tip the precarious balance of the camp on its head. 

He shook his head angrily. “We don't do shit like that. This isn't a fucking gated community, okay? These are survivors who get by together. That's it.”

Y/N's eyes were so earnest it almost hurt to look at her. “But, don't you see, it could be a community. Not gated, but open. We could do more for each other than just survive.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, if you're unhappy with being here, we can happily help you on your way.”

Y/N raised her hands. “No, of course not, that's not what-”

Dean cut her off with a cold, hard voice. “And you can't teach kids like this.” He waved a hand towards the red rings encircling her irises. “You'd scare the shit outta them. Take one look at you and freak out, thinking you're gonna turn into a monster any minute.”

That pulled Y/N up short and Dean could see by her slight flinch that his words had hit home. She was quiet a minute and her smile was dimmed as she nodded.

“Right. That's…no, you're right.” She gave an imitation of a chuckle. “There aren't many mirrors around, so I…sometimes I forget about…” she gestured to her eyes.

She shook her head. “I was just trying to find a way to be helpful, you know.” She shrugged. “But yeah…” She trailed off and Dean felt a sick gnawing sensation in his stomach as she gave a final dull smile. 

“Okay, well thanks.” She said as she turned away. Though what she could have possibly been thanking him for, he had no idea.

He thought about Cas’ disappointed expression, and Y/N's bent smile and he gritted his teeth. This morning was not going well for him.

The day didn’t get much better from there. He spent most of it planning their next raid for canned goods. They were running low, and it was September already. Over the next couple of months they’d have to make sure they had whatever they needed for the winter. Once the snow hit, the winter roads were sometimes impassable for weeks at a time. 

They were having to go further and further out from the camp to find supplies. The area was becoming picked clean. There were four or five other, smaller, groups of survivors within about a hundred square miles of their camp. For the most part they all rubbed along together alright, pretty much just leaving a big buffer of space between the camps, and leaving each other alone.

However, Dean was starting to worry about what would happen now that resources and supplies around them were starting to run out. In this last year, they’d started having to drive hours and hours away from camp to find un-ransacked grocery stores and restaurants in the abandoned cities. They could manage it because of their size, but some of the smaller groups had very few working vehicles, making it harder for them to travel. Dean worried what would happen when they got desperate. 

He wanted to be ready for winter.

So, he tried to spend the day planning the best route to hit as many cities as they could without hitting too many known Croat hives, or cleaned out cities. But he kept getting interrupted by his soldiers. The concerns of the camp were unending, and sometimes felt completely overwhelming. 

The morning kept being interrupted by issues and grievances his soldiers brought him from some of the camp inhabitants. He tried to put out as many fires as he could, while continuing to plan the raid.

Then he ended up spending far too much of the afternoon talking about drainage and irrigation with the young guy who used to be an engineering student, and an old farmer who’d spent his whole life in the fields. The two very different men were teaming up to try and see about making bigger winter crop plots this year. They’d grown some winter vegetables last fall and winter, and even that small amount of fresh food had made a big difference in the health of the campers. So this year they were hoping for more. 

Finally the men went off to plan some more and Dean folded up his maps. He hadn’t made much headway into the raid route, but the light was getting low; he’d have to come back to it. He fried up some spam and a few of the cooked, frozen potatoes they’d put up in the spring and sat beside his fire for a while before tossing water on it and going inside his tent. He lit a lantern and started to try and look at the maps again, but he was interrupted by Risa.

Dean lifted his chin towards her by way of greeting. She came forward and dropped a small piece of machinery on his table. “Here’s the piston for that Ford we towed back last week.” She said, referring to the truck they’d found abandoned on the side of the road with no owners in sight. “Should work.”

Dean nodded. “Great.”

Risa lingered a moment and then walked closer to him. “How are you?”

Dean shrugged. “Fine.”

She moved forward to stand between his legs and then reached out to run her hands over his cheeks and down his neck. She bent over and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.

“I miss you.” She said, her voice softer and more intimate than it ever was when they were soldier and commander. “You haven’t been to see me in weeks.”

“Sorry.” Dean said gruffly and then let her kiss him again, kissing her back for a moment before pulling away. 

Not willing to give up, Risa straddled his outstretched thighs and reached for his zipper. “It’s okay, I bet I can find ways to entice you back.” She said, dark brown eyes flashing with heat.

But Dean grabbed her hands and pulled them away. He kissed her briefly to try and ease the sting of his rejection. “Sorry, not tonight.” He nodded towards the maps on his table. “I’ve got shit I gotta finish.”

Risa bit into her lip, looking down at their hands entwined in his lap, and then nodding before she stood up. She lifted her mouth in a smile. “Yeah, sure. ‘Kay.” She nodded again and pointed to the piston as she left. “Let me know if that works.”

Dean sighed as his tent flap fell back into place. And that was the third person he’d disappointed today. Without his permission Y/N’s face floated into his mind. Despite what he’d said to her, he couldn’t deny how beautiful that face actually was. The red pigment in her eyes made no difference to that beauty.

He couldn’t erase the image of her crestfallen expression when he told her she’d scare the kids. That was complete bullshit and he knew it. Five seconds in her shiny presence and the kids would be eating out of her hand.

He growled slightly as he could feel himself caving. But would it really be so bad to let her teach the kids somewhere? They’d have to stay out of the way, and she’d have to keep them all quiet when they were together in a mob. But it might actually free their parents up for more of the endless tasks it took to maintain the camp.

If he let her do it, he’d have to make sure she knew he was only saying yes so that they could have the kids out of the way for a while. This wasn’t some hopeful mission for the future. It was just a practical solution for improving the camp.

He nodded. Yeah, I'll tell her tomorrow. 

But even as he though it, he got up and walked out of his tent, moving towards the southwest corner of the camp. Within a couple minutes he was standing in front of the red tent and again found himself clearing his throat and embarrassingly calling out a hello, like he was the Avon lady.

Y/N poked her head out of the tent and smiled. But she lowered her eyes a little and wouldn’t look directly at him. He wanted to punch himself.

“Hi.” She said softly, and then stepped out of the tent into the cool, late evening breeze. She waved towards the tent. “Emma’s sleeping.”

He nodded. She rubbed her arms and he frowned. “Didn’t they give you a jacket?” Then he noticed she was still wearing the grubby clothes she’d been wearing when she came. “And clean clothes?”

Y/N nodded and even in the dusky twilight Dean could see her blush. “Yes, but I realized…I’m all dirty.” She shrugged. “Nothing but basin baths for weeks. I’d like to get cleaner before I put on the clean clothes. One of your soldiers said there was a place where people went to bathe nearby. But he didn’t have time to take me.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, there’s a river about four miles south of camp. It does the trick. I’ll take you tomorrow.” 

He scowled; he didn’t know where that offer had come from. He could have had one of his soldiers, or any other camper really, take her out to the river. But he didn’t rescind the offer and Y/N nodded happily.

“That would be wonderful.” She said rapturously. 

Dean nodded curtly again. “Yeah. And uh…you can do the school.” Y/N looked directly at him now and her face was surprised, but clearly thrilled. 

“Really?” 

He nodded and scowled. “Yeah, the kids'll get over it." He said with a nod to her red eyes. "But just make sure you all stay out of the way of the work in the camp. And let the parents know we’ll have some work for them during the hours their kids are gone. We can use the extra hands.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to help out where they can.”

Impulsively it seemed, she threw her arms around him, squeezing his arms tight to his sides as she hugged him. Shock coursed through him and he didn’t know how to move. Thankfully it was a brief hug and she was soon pulling away.

“Thank you so much, Dean. I’m so excited. I think it’s going to make a real difference. Just wait.”

As she bid him goodnight and bounced back into her tent, he shook his head, frowning deeply. 

Fuck, he thought, everything is too different already.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @deangirl96

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[nexxocatt]

THUNDER SAGA & WISDOM SAGA RANTS!!

Genuinely how can I live my life normally after this. Like,, HOW.

Anyway,,,

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

TWs/CWs: swearing, mentions of violence and death ig. If you're uncomfortable click off any time!

And without further ado, let's gooo!!

THUNDER SAGA

- Gosh, 'Suffering' is maybe probably most definitely my second fav song (after 'Thunder Bringer' ofc) in this saga. It's just so GOOD UGHH!!! I'm utterly OBSESSED with whoever voices Penelope/Siren Penelope cause they just sound ETHEREAL. Also the amount of memes with the "You know I'm too shy" is astounding. Def my fav part of the song.

- I hc that Ody, in 'Different Beast', when he said "You are no wife of mine!" that he pulled an "erm, actually-" and basically: "Nah cuz you got a few details ab my wife wrong, homie. You see, her ponytail's tips actually reach 3.5 cm lower than that, plus you got the shade of her eye color wrong. And gods she'd never wear that tunic without matching earrings!" Homie's obsessed lmao.

- Oh. My. God. KJ. KJ! THE ABSOLUTE QUEEN GAHH!!! The fucking growl Scylla had on "Give up your honor and wraith!" Made me literally almost fall over. I had a ton of fun just dancing to KJ's vocals. My GOD that's beautiful💯💯

- Tell me y'all can hear the absolute desperation in Eury's voice at the start😭 bro does NOT wanna believe his home bro Ody just gave up six men's lives like that. Also not Jay bringing back the "This is the home of the wind god" bullshit like pls I cried enough at 'Monster'😭😭 And not Eury turning Ody's words around by saying "I'M JUST A MAN!" then stabbing a cow, like HOMIE. WHY.

- Here comes Zeus the party crasher everyone! Yippee! But no, seriously, I've had 'Thunder Bringer' stuck in my head for a while cuz my boy Luke Holt's vocals be giving me shivers. Imma cry cause the absolute pain and crack in Ody's voice when he says "I know..." like,, 😭😭 Also the animatics where the crew just attacks Ody and the dude just accepts his fate are CRIMINAL. Ain't nobody asking me to cry today bro🙏🙏

WISDOM SAGA

- Gotta be my fav saga yet. The "Watchu gonna do about it, champ?" line was delivered PERFECTLY🙌🙌 Ayron is the absolute Top G. Also Miguel's voice for Telemachus is just UGHH SO GOOD!!! Also Tele be like: "STAY BEHIND ME MOM I'LL PROTECT YOU!!🤺🤺🤺"

- Let's fucking go Athena is back on track, baby! Literally LOVE both hers and Antinuos' vocals. They were ON. TOP. I couldn't help but giggle at Tele's "Woah,, that is so sick!!" Like he's my baby boy I love him smmmm!!!

- I ain't got no shit on Athena no more. Home girl's just guilty frfr. "You're a good kid." "Thanks!" AHHHH THEM>>> Anyway, great song. I love Athena now. I don't hold no grudge against her anymore, no siree. She my homie now💪💪

- WANGUI. THE LEGEND FRFR. They could never make me like Calypso but Barbara served. I listened to 'Love In Paradise' on my headphones and did not expect to hear Polites' voice in my left ear and Eury's in my right😭😭 The time-dive was LEGENDARY (haha.) and Ody's screams then him just yelling "ATHENA!!" cause he doesn't have anyone else to call for help was heartbreaking 💔

- Ahhh the fact that Jorge got his dad to voice Hephaestus is so cute <33 And Mr. PAM-PAM was right. Luke Holt's BEASTMODE ZEUS IS PHENOMENAL. I adored the transition between 'Warrior Of The Mind' and 'Legenday' after Zeus supposedly struck Athena down, which were – by the looks of the animatic shown in the livestream – the memories that got the goddess determined to stand back up💪💪 The way Ares' voice almost broke when he asked "Is she dead..?" broke me like😭😭 And whoever voices Hera is an absolute legend how the fuck is your voice that HEAVENLY😳

Also pls let the 'Silly Saga' be a thing, I had all the vids from Jorge's Disney Princess Era plus the Jimmy Neutron specials stuck inside my head non-stop for daysss🙏

Ooh and if we're lucky (and Jorge wants to ofc) maybe we'll get an album with cut songs! That would be amazing!! No pressure for the team tho, whatever they choose will be respected by everyone!

Also guys dw Athena's not dead, goddesses can't die you silly geese🙃 She's just injured n I'm absolutely sure we'll hear more of her in the upcoming Sagas! ^^

That's all for now! Take care y'all!! Stream the Wisdom Saga NYEOW👿👺!!!!

[parkerslatte]

Songbird || TWELVE

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of blood

Word Count: 3.7k

Part Summary: The band records songs for Aurora and Y/N attends a party with Daisy.

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•••

TRACK TWELVE;

MANEATER

...

DAISY JONES: We must’ve written eight or nine songs the first couple weeks. I would have an idea, and then he’d flesh it out, or he would come up with a riff, and I’d come up with a melody line.

BILLY DUNNE: When you’re making an album, any album, it’s an intimate thing. I mean, it has to be.

DAISY JONES: Which isn’t to say we didn’t fight.

BILLY DUNNE: Oh we were fighting constantly.

WARREN ROJAS: For a month it was like that. We’d be in the studio, you know, recording all the arrangements, and they’d be who knows where doing god knows what.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Everyday they’d come in with something new.

KAREN SIRKO: I mean great fucking songs.

Y/N L/N: Even though I didn’t want to be in the band, I can’t fault the songs, they were great, amazing even.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: And every night, they’d come in giggling like two little schoolgirls. 

INTERVIEWER: Did it concern you?

GRAHAM DUNNE: Not really. Not yet, anyway. I mean…like whatever they were doing…it was working.

INTERVIEWER: How was Y/N adjusting to being in a band?

KAREN SIRKO: She adjusted well, it was only the arguments that was a concern.

…

“I did everything you told me to do, Billy!” Y/N yelled into the microphone. 

“But it’s not good enough,” Billy says from the booth, “Try again.”

Y/N sighed, and began to play again but as soon as she started playing, Billy cut her off again.

“In what possible way was that wrong,” Y/N exclaimed, “I played one note.”

“It was the wrong note.” Billy says, trying to remain calm.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “You need to get your hearing checked.”

Billy turns to Teddy, “It was the right note, Billy.”

A smirk appeared on Y/N’s face at Billy’s annoyed expression. 

“Again.” Billy ordered. 

Once again as soon as Y/N began to play Billy interrupted her. 

“Right,” Y/N says, “This is bullshit.”

Y/N lifted the guitar and placed it back on its stand. With one final glare at Billy, she left the room, joining the rest of the band. 

“You finished?” Karen questioned. 

“Nope,” Y/N said, flopping down on the couch next to Eddie, “Apparently Billy needs to get his hearing checked because everything I’m doing is wrong.”

Billy came storming out of the booth, his eyes focussed on Y/N, “Get back in the studio now, Y/N, you’re wasting time.”

“Why?” Y/N questioned, “So you can stop me every two seconds, I’d say you’re the one who’s wasting time.”

“Billy, just give her a break,” Karen says, “She’s been in the studio all day.”

“And so have the rest of us.” Billy says.

“Yeah, but we haven’t been yelled at for the past two hours.” Eddie muttered. 

Billy sent a glare Eddie’s way before his gaze landed back on Y/N, “Y/N, get back in the studio.”

…

KAREN SIRKO: Billy didn’t know when to stop when he argued with Y/N. 

WARREN ROJAS: Y/N never let her emotions show much, but I could tell that she was getting to her breaking point.

CAMILA DUNNE: I knew how Billy was treating Y/N and I wasn’t standing for it. She was my best friend and he was treating her awfully. I knew they didn’t like each other but that was no excuse.

BILLY DUNNE: Y/N got on my last nerve. She always wanted things her way. 

Y/N L/N: Billy was a controlling prick.

DAISY JONES: I knew that Y/N didn’t want to be in the band, and I didn’t understand why she was in the band. Her talent shouldn’t have been pushed to the side like it was. 

…

The band sat around in the studio waiting for Billy and Y/N to come back with their new song. Y/N sat with her guitar, carelessly strumming a tune she had come up with, humming along to lyrics she had written months ago that was meant to be for her album. 

“I like that melody.” Graham says. 

“Thanks,” Y/N smiled, “I was working on it for my album.”

Graham began to listen to the song as Y/N continued to strum her guitar. As he began to play her own guitar, working with what Y/N had already created, she turned to him and smiled. One by one each member of the band began to play along with Y/N and Graham. It didn’t sound fantastic but to Y/N it sounded like the most amazing thing in the world. 

“Sing the song.” Graham says.

“I wrote the song as a duet,” Y/N says, “Eddie, would you be able to sing the other part.”

“Me?” Eddie questioned.

Y/N smiled and reached down to her bag and pulled out her notebook, turning to the correct page and held it out to Eddie.

“The green ink is what you’re meant to sing. You’ll pick up the melody.”

Everyone began to play what they were before, slowly getting a good balance. Y/N began to sing everything melted away, the only thing she concentrated on was the music. Y/N signalled that Eddie should start singing. As he began he was out on timing which caused Y/N to smile but he soon got into a rhythm. 

Their voices complimented each other perfectly. Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Every member of the band got into the rhythm of the song, fully enjoying themselves for not being told what to do, they all got to freely play what they wanted. 

The door to the studio opened and in walked Billy and Daisy. Daisy slowed down her walk as she listened to the song, meanwhile Billy let out an annoyed sigh. Y/N was the first to notice and she stopped singing and playing, everyone followed her actions. 

“What’s going on here?” Billy questioned.

“Y/N wrote a song and we were playing around with it,” Graham answered, “It’s a great song.”

“It’s not going on the album.” Billy says.

“Come on,” Warren says, “It’s a great fucking song.”

“It’s not going on the album.” Billy repeated. 

“I think it should go on the album.” Daisy intervened.

“Thank you Daisy.” Y/N says and Billy rolls his eyes. 

“It’s not going on the album,” Billy says, “And that’s final.”

“Okay,” Daisy challenged, “Then I want Y/N to sing The River with me.”

The room fell silent. 

“It’s one or the other Billy,” Daisy says, “Her song goes on the album or she sings The River with me.”

…

Y/N L/N: Originally I never wanted my song to go on the album, but the look on Billy’s face when Daisy gave him that ultimatum was what made me want to have my song on the album. 

DAISY JONES: We recorded Y/N’s song that day. 

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y/N’s song was my favourite on the album, still is. 

WARREN ROJAS: I think that was the most laid back recording we did. Y/N took the reins on it and let us fuck around with it. It was a good day.

…

“Camila!” Y/N says, entering the house through the front door.

“Y/N,” Camila says, coming around the corner, “I didn’t know you were coming around today.”

“It wasn’t originally,” Y/N admitted, “But figured that since Billy isn’t here, I would come around. I haven’t seen Julia in ages. How are you by the way? We haven’t had the chance to sit and talk in a while.”

“I’ve been okay,” Camila says, sitting down on the couch next to Y/N, “I’ve been busy with Julia, she’s getting to the point where I can’t leave her unattended for too long or they’ll be another broken glass on the floor.”

“Billy hasn’t helped at all?” Y/N questioned.

“He has barely been here,” Camila says, an edge to her voice, “And when he is here, he’s always on the phone with Daisy.”

“I would say that I would have a talk with him, but we all know how that would go, so…”

Camila laughed, “It’s fine, you don’t need to talk to him, I’ll try to when he gets home, whenever that will be.”

“Hey, if you ever need help with anything, you can call me and I’ll answer and be here as quick as I can.” Y/N says, talking ahold of Camila’s hand, “If you need any help with Julia or even a break from her, I’ll babysit her and you can go and take as many photos until you literally can’t anymore.”

“Oh,” Camila says, getting to her feet, “That reminds me.”

Camila walked to the other side of the room and opened a drawer, “I forgot I developed these photos ages ago and I thought you would want them.”

Walking back over to Y/N, Camila handed her three photos and Y/N’s heart sank. The photos were of her and Eddie from the Christmas her first single was released. The first photo was just after Y/N handed Eddie his gift. The two were looking intently into each other’s eyes, a look of adoration on their faces. 

Flipping to the next photo, Y/N’s heart sank even more when she saw it. In the photo, she was staring at the camera with a smile while Eddie looked at her. The look on his face couldn’t have been mistaken for anything other than love. 

The final photo ripped Y/N’s heart out and threw it on the ground. The photo was taken when neither of them were aware. The two were cuddled up on the couch. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around Eddie’s torso while his arm was wrapped around her waist and the other held onto her arm. Her head rested on his chest while his head was dipped, his lips brushing her forehead. 

“When did you take this photo?” Y/N questioned.

“The same day,” Camila says, “It was a cute photo, I took it when you both weren’t looking.”

“Stalker.” Y/N jokes. 

Y/N placed the photos back in a stack and handed them back to Camila.

“Don’t you want them?” Camila questioned, furrowing her eyebrows. 

“I just-I just don’t think I need them.” Y/N says.

Camila saw right through Y/N’s lie, “What else is going on? Because months ago, you would have been excited to have these.”

Y/N sighed, “Nothing’s going on-”

“Is anything going on between you and Eddie?” Camila questioned.

“What?” Y/N says, “No, there’s nothing going on.”

“Are you sure because the two of you have been acting like strangers for months now.” Camila points out.

Y/N shrugged, “We just grew apart. I was busy working on my non-existent album and he was working with the band, we just haven’t had the time to talk and hang out.” Y/N hated how easily the lie rolled off her tongue. 

“Are you sure nothing’s going on?” Camila asks.

“I’m sure,” Y/N says, “There is nothing going on between me and Eddie.”

…

Y/N L/N: All of these lies were eating me alive. Of course there was something going on, but at the time I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, I had never felt that way before so it was all new for me.

…

The next day, Y/N was sitting in the studio, bored out of her mind. They were meant to be recording vocals for Aurora but Daisy never showed up. With her notebook in hand, Y/N was just colouring in the page out of pure boredom. They had all been sitting there for hours. 

“Did you try her room?” Teddy asked.

“Yeah, couple times,” Billy says, “I’m worried something’s happened.”

“She’s probably just off somewhere.” Teddy suggested.

“No,, no this is her record as much as it’s mine. Something’s not right,” Billy says, “I got to go.”

“I’ll go with you.” Teddy offered.

“No, it’s worse if the principal comes.”

“Well, take Warren.” Teddy says.

“I can handle it.” Billy says, walking out of the studio.

Y/N looks to where he had disappeared before throwing her notebook down and followed after him. Just as he started up his car, Y/N climbed into the passenger seat. 

“What are you doing Y/N?” Billy sighed.

“Look, we don’t like each other, cool,” Y/N says, “But I care about Daisy too, so let’s just go.”

Surprisingly, Billy didn’t argue. He simply nodded and pulled away from the studio. 

As the two arrived at the hotel, music was blaring out and shouting was heard for every direction. Y/N and Billy slowly walked closer to the pool where they found Daisy. 

“Y/N,” Billy says, “Can you give us a minute?”

“What? Why? I want to see-”

“Y/N, just go.” Billy says. 

Sighing, Y/N sat down on a chair, watching the interaction between Daisy and Billy. Y/N had never been one to pry into people’s relationships but she didn’t quite understand what was going on between Daisy and Billy. One moment, they were acting like the best friends in the world and then the next they were acting like they detested each other. Y/N couldn’t work it out. 

As Daisy climbed out of the pool, Y/N watched as the glass dug into her feet, causing them to bleed. Y/N winced, standing to her feet. 

“Say, hi to Camila for me!” Daisy called to Billy as he stormed off. 

“Billy, wait!” Y/N says as he leaves the hotel grounds. Y/N contemplated following him as he was her only way home but she decided against it, opting to check on Daisy. 

“Let me guess,” Daisy says, “You’re here to yell at me as well.”

Y/N says, “No, not at all, unlike Billy I know what a fun time looks like.” Y/N lied, she had been annoyed with how late Daisy was but she wasn’t going to outright be angry about it like Billy was.

Y/N looked down at Daisy’s feet, “Can I clean that up?”

Daisy looked down at her feet and watched as the blood mixed with the water, “I’m fine.” As she tried to walk away, Daisy limped, in obvious pain. 

“Look, I’ll make a promise,” Y/N says, “You let me clean that up and I’ll happily leave you alone to do whatever you want.”

“Why don’t you join me?” Daisy says. 

Y/N sighs, “As long as I can clean that up.”

Daisy rolled her eyes and sat down and Y/N rushed to find a bandage and some alcohol, the latter being much easier to find. After getting some bandages, Y/N went back to Daisy who was miraculously in the same place. 

Bending down, Y/N inspected her foot, luckily there wasn’t any glass embedded into her foot so it would be rather easy to clean up. 

“Okay,” Y/N says, unscrewing the bottle of alcohol, “This will probably sting a little bit.”

Daisy nods before Y/N pours the alcohol onto the cuts. Daisy winced but Y/N continued to wipe away the blood, disinfecting the cuts. As Y/N wrapped her foot in the bandage, Daisy watched her intently. 

“There,” Y/N says, “Just please don’t put your foot in the pool again, I don’t think I can find any more bandages.”

Daisy put her foot down on the floor and looked at Y/N. She didn’t say anything before reaching down and picking up the bottle of alcohol, “No your end of the deal.”

Y/N smirked and took the bottle of alcohol from Daisy and took a long swig. 

***

“Where’s Y/N?” Warren asked as Billy entered the studio alone. 

Billy looked around, like he was surprised that Y/N wasn’t with him, “I think she’s still with Daisy.”

“You think?” Eddie says, “You just left her?”

“Yes Eddie I did,” Billy says, “I had more important things on my mind.”

“Look,” Karen spoke up, already sensing the tension, “She’s probably fine, she’ll either stay with Daisy or she’ll find her own way home, she always does, there’s no point in worrying.”

No one said anything as Billy picked up his guitar case and left swiftly without a word to anyone.

Back at the house, Eddie was finding it difficult to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt fully awake. Every time he tried to get comfortable, it would only turn into the most uncomfortable position only moments later. 

As Eddie closed his eyes for hopefully the final time that night, the phone began to ring in the living room. Due to having the room closest to the living room, Eddie flipped the covers off and got out of bed. As he passed the clock on the wall he took notice of the time. Four in the morning. 

Picking up the phone, Eddie answered it. 

“Hello?” Eddie says.

There was a long pause before there was an answer, “Eddie?”

“Y/N?” Eddie says, “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know where I am.” Y/N says. 

“What do you mean?” Eddie questions. 

“I lost Daisy,” Y/N says, her words barely legible, “So I continued to drink without her and this guy gave me some pills and I took them.”

“Y/N, are you okay?” Eddie asked, suddenly fully alert. 

“I’m-I’m fine,” Y/N says, “I went to walk home but I think I took a wrong turn.”

“Can you describe what’s around you?” Eddie questions. 

There was a pause before Y/N answered, “It’s too dark. I don’t think I’m that far away from the hotel.”

“Okay, Y/N, stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.” Eddie says and hangs up the phone. 

Only picking up a jacket before he left the house, Eddie got into the van and pulled out of the driveway. His heart was beating fast as he drove, the only thing he thought about was Y/N. As he neared the hotel, he slowed down and kept an eye out for her. There wasn’t much around at all, simply a road and trees with a few houses scattered down it.

As Eddie drove further down the road, he spotted a payphone box and a person sat down next to it. Immediately Eddie got out of the van and ran the small distance. 

“Y/N.” Eddie says softly. 

Y/N looked up and she smiled, “Eddie…”

Y/N was shivering and goose bumps covered her skin. Pulling off his jacket, Eddie placed it around her and helped her to her feet. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N says as his arm wrapped around her waist as he helped her to the van.

“For what?” Eddie questioned.

“For dragging you out here in the middle of the night.” Y/N says, clutching onto Eddie. 

“Don’t apologise.” Eddie says, helping her into the van. 

Y/N pulled his jacket tighter around her body as she sat safely in the passenger seat of the car. Eddie got in and began to drive back to the house. Y/N didn’t say anything the entire way there, she simply looked out of the window at the world passing by. She was fully aware of Eddie continuously sneaking glances at her. 

As they arrived back at the house, Eddie tried to help Y/N out of the van but she pushed him away, “I’m fine, Eddie.”

“You sure don’t look fine,” Eddie says, “You don’t normally get this bad, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Y/N questioned, “Well I have all the reason to be.”

Y/N sniffled, trying to fight back the tears she had been keeping at bay for months. 

“I’ve had everything I’ve ever been working towards taken from me,” Y/N says, “My album was the one thing I’ve always wanted to do and now that opportunity is gone. I never wanted to join the band and now I have and I haven’t been more miserable in my whole life. Billy never lets me have any creative freedom, and everything I do is wrong. I can’t do anything right in his eyes. I am a singer and a songwriter and it’s been taken away from me.  ”

“You have one song on the album.” Eddie says, trying to look at the positives. 

“A song that I wrote for my album.” Y/N says, finally letting the tears fall, “I wrote that song with the idea of you singing it with me. I wrote it for us.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he didn’t know what to say. Y/N looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. Reaching up, Eddie cupped her cheeks and gently wiped them away. He stepped closer to her, decreasing the distance between them. 

Y/N continued to stand there, not knowing how to react. Her thoughts weren’t clear and she didn’t know what to say. 

Looking down at Y/N, Eddie began to lean forward, his lips inched towards hers like it was a magnetic pull driving them together. Eddie couldn’t help himself, the feeling of Y/N’s lips on his was a feeling he craved, it was as if it were his own personal high and he needed a constant fix. Y/N, noticing this, pushed him away harshly. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Y/N whispered.

“I-I-” Eddie cut himself off because he didn’t really have an answer. 

“No, Eddie,” Y/N mumbled, “You’re being mean.”

“I’m not,” Eddie begs, “I’m not, I’m sorry.”

Y/N shook her head, “You are, you don’t do that to someone. You can’t do that to someone. You don’t mess with someone’s feelings like that. Don’t talk to me again.”

With that, Y/N walked back into the house leaving Eddie outside on his own. Eddie remained there in silence for a moment, processing everything. He wished he could rewind time and never did what he did. Angrily, Eddie turned around and punched the wall. Almost immediately he brought his hand to his chest, cradling it. There were cuts on his knuckles and bruises would certainly form, but Eddie didn’t care. 

The pain made him aware of what he did. The pain on the outside reflected the pain he was feeling on the inside. 

…

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Everything I did that night, I regretted. I ruined what was left of my friendship with Y/N. I loved her, but I ruined that. And I only made everything more complicated from there.

Taglist:

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[lorenzobane]

The Gourmand

(AN: back on my travel bullshit! Here’s a little ficlet, thanks to @wanderingwriter87 for the prompt- and for taking me to brunch.)

Garak looks around, a performative pout already gracing his face.

“Isn’t this place amazing?” Julian asks, either not noticing or pretending not to notice his companion’s disgruntled face.

“It’s…” Garak pauses and looks around. The restaurant is hardly a typical Cardassian design, yet it is right in the middle of Lakarian City’s central business district.

“And look at the menu!” Julian continues as if Garak hadn’t spoken. “It's not every day you see a human restaurant in the middle of a Cardassian city! I can’t believe I could get us in for their opening brunch.”

“Yes, how did you get a reservation?”

“Turns out one of my patients last month was the chef, who invited me personally. I can’t wait to try it; they’re using all locally sourced ingredients from Cardassia to make some Earth classics. It’s a fascinating ethos; he’s trying to support local Cardassian farmers.”

“Fascinating, Doctor. Can you give me an example?”

“See,” he says, pointing to the extensive menu before him, “this is an Earth classic, an Eggs Benedict. But they’ve used thin-cut Zabu and Vole eggs instead of ham and chicken eggs!”

“Well, I suppose I’ll reserve judgment until the dish is in front of me. But Doctor, I cannot believe you would take me to see my culture so violently denigrated.”

Julian rolls his eyes. “Denigrate? Garak, don’t be absurd. This is a very typical human practice; there are dozens of these types of restaurants throughout the Federation.”

“Oh good,” Garak says with wide eyes and as much false earnestness as he can muster. “I’m so thrilled to hear that Cardassia is just like every other planet in the Federation.”

“Oh, for the love of—“

“Imperialism at its finest,” Garak concluded victoriously.

Julian opens his mouth, then closes it, and his eyes gleam with mischief. “I suppose so; sorry that the Federation is much more effective at it than Cardassia, darling.”

Garak’s jaw drops with indignation, and Julian laughs.

“Now, can you handle looking at the menu?”

Outmaneuvered and aware of it, Garak changes tracks and glances down the menu. His eyes widen at the sheer array of foods he’s grown up eating prepared in ways he never imagined—things in sauces that he never considered would go together. What’s worse is some of it sounds… Good.

“You’re… excited about this, aren’t you?” Julian says, slightly stunned.

“Why would you say that?”

“You never complain this much about things you don’t like; you love to humor me. You’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Oh my god,” Julian crows, “I’m right!”

“Fine, I’ll admit to some idle curiosity.”

“Of course. And that’s why your eyes practically lit up when you saw the ceviche section.”

Garak rolls his eyes. “I thought you wanted me to like this.”

“Oh, I do,” Julian replies. “I’m just allowing myself to feel very smug.”

“Oh dear,” Garak says dryly, “whatever will I do with such an unusual state of affairs?”

Julian smiles at him and reaches across the table, palm up. Garak raises his eyebrows at the sheer exhibitionism but holds his hand back nonetheless.

Garak takes a deep breath and lets it go slowly. The restaurant is loud and busy; the wait staff flit between tables, and soft music plays in the background. Every table seats young couples dressed in the latest fashions from the Alpha quadrant, not just Lakarian city, and he feels…

“Cardassia will never be what I remember, will it?” He says, not quite realizing he said it out loud.

Julian softens, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of Garak’s hand. “Maybe not, but it will never lose what it is either. I think it has a chance to be better than ever.”

Garak allows his eyes to trail over the patterns no Cardassian would have ever used, the foods they would never have made, the people they never would have loved, and thinks that perhaps… Perhaps Cardassia’s best days lay ahead of them yet.

[slashhinginghasher]

Dog Day Afternoon - Ghoap x reader

I've been binge-reading @ohbo-ohno's blog all day and just had to write a companion piece to their amazing story Don't Leave Me Locked In Your Heart.

No warnings, just fluff, but like, really really stupid fluff.

***

In a normal housing situation, you'd be baffled by how quickly your shampoo tended to disappear. You'd carefully measure how much you used each time, eye every roommate with suspicion when they emerged from the bathroom with wet hair. Maybe you'd even hide the bottle in your room between baths for safe-keeping, or fill an empty bottle with something gross to see who came out covered in a gunky mess.

But you didn't live in a normal housing situation, and you didn't have to wonder where all your shampoo was going because the thieving Scot who took it also made you wash his fucking hair with it. Every. Damn. Time. Sometimes even more than once.

"Can't have me gettin' split ends, bonnie," he said knowledgeably. "No' like Simon over there."

You didn't inform him that washing one's hair multiple times in the shower did not make the shampoo work better. You did not point out that he and Simon, being military, both cut their hair too short and too often for split ends. You didn't even accuse him of only knowing what split ends were because it was written on the shampoo bottle.

No, you kept your thoughts to yourself. Because while Johnny was apparently in possession of mad military skills - including manhandling, referring to Simon by his rank, and probably guns or something - they paled in comparison to his true talent: spouting an endless amount of bullshit at you until you accidentally said something sexual in return, and then taking that as an opening to be actually sexual.

Once, when you were fussing over a blemish forming on your nose, Johnny had sworn that you could contract flesh-eating bacteria and he'd still love you, holes and all. You had been physically incapable of stopping yourself from muttering that his love of your holes was what had gotten you into this situation in the first place. Johnny immediately got an evil gleam in his eye, and Simon had laughed. Out loud. Then they took you to bed for an entire day. Literally a full twenty-four hours. You hadn't been able to walk right for almost a week.

So yeah, you'd learned your lesson and you didn't goad Johnny, even when you had something spectacularly clever to say.

"Think you're a bloody show dog now, Johnny?" Simon rumbled. "Yappin' on about your hair like a damn poodle."

"A poodle!" Johnny shouted, affronted. "Am no fuckin' poodle, LT. Naw." He rubbed his hands together, warming up to the subject. "A german shepherd, maybe. Or a doberman. One a' those fuck-off big boys that makes you piss yerself a little when you get too close. What d'you think, hen?"

Oh, there were so many answers you could give to break this man's ego. Breeds they'd have to look up on google to feel the full impact of your devastating wit. But no, you had to stay strong. You pressed your lips into a tight line and maintained a dignified silence.

"Oi, I'm askin' ye a question."

"You ask me a lot of questions, and almost all of them are stupid."

Johnny looked positively offended.

"They are not stupid!"

"'If a guy was on the moon and he jumped hard enough in the right direction do you think he could launch himself back to earth?'" you quoted. "'Do we say things suit people because suits look good on you or is it called a suit because it suits you?' 'If unicorns were real do you think they'd let people ride them and if they did would you attach the reins to their mouth like a normal horse or would you tie 'em around the horn?'"

"All of which are important questions and not at all stupid!"

"Everything is stupid when you're asking it at 3 am, Johnny!"

Simon's eyes were bouncing between the two of you like a tennis match. He looked like he was having the time of his life (in Simon terms, which meant that one corner of his mouth was turned up in a microscopic smirk).

"I cannae help it that my deepest thoughts come late at night," Johnny said solemnly. "An' you're avoiding the most important question: what dog am I?"

"You're a mutt, Johnny," Simon said. "A scraggly little mutt that's gonna get muzzled if it doesn't learn to stop asking stupid questions when people are tryin' to sleep."

Johnny grinned. You weren't sure if he was the sort of person who could shrug off vitriol from anybody, or if he was so over the moon about Simon that he would preen under any kind of attention he got from him. And the last thing you wanted was to feel bad for either of your captors. But damn, the bigger man could be downright mean sometimes.

"Belgian malinois," you said.

"Come again?"

"Mouthy police dog that starts trembling if you order it to stay still for too long," you clarified.

"Sounds about right," Simon muttered.

Johnny cocked his head, mulling over this with extreme deliberation, before pointing at Simon.

"What about him?"

You considered Simon. Big, scary, unflappable Simon. "Shit your pants if you see him in a dark alley" Simon who could definitely rip your head off your body but also somehow gave the best hugs and turned into a pile of goo if you scratched his head right.

"Caucasian shepherd," you announced. "Also known as the Russian bear dog."

Simon nodded. You were pretty sure he had no idea what kind of dog that was and would have agreed with anything that sounded appropriately large or menacing enough.

"Aw fuck off!" Johnny cried. "How come I've gotta be the vibrating cop dog while he gets to be the fucking bear dog?"

"And that's what you get for askin' stupid questions, mutt."

Johnny huffed and pouted for a moment before turning back to you.

"And you, love? What kinda dog are you?"

"I'm a cat," you replied. "Obviously."

Your stomach dropped as that devious spark kindled in Johnny's eyes.

"Too true, kitty, too true," he purred. "Fancy a bit of a chase?"

How the fuck did he always manage to do that???

[osaemu]

could you do professor aizawa who has a student always running late to lectures and loud and annoying. And he catches her breaking the law (doing graffiti or something) and threatens to expel her but comes to a compromise and sees a different side of her? If not anything u write is amazing anyways! ❤️❤️

ミ★ who says? 🜚

pairing: aizawa x reader

summary: your reputably strict teacher catches you breaking the law – minor offense or not, who knows how he'll react?

word count: ~1.5k

warnings: no explicit romantic interest, but you can interpret it that way if you want. cursing. graffiti? mentions of illegal activities. half-baked character backstory. barely proofread.

a/n: hey anon! sorry this took a while, i just haven't really been motivated lately so um my bad! i wasn't sure if you wanted the request in a romantic way so i went the safe route, just lmk if you want me to write another one!

"what the hell are you doing?"

caught off guard by the sudden sound of a deep voice, you yelp and quickly turn around. a tall, dark figure emerges from the shadowed alley behind you, and to your dismay, it's your taciturn professor.

fuck.

"oh, hey, sir!" you say hurriedly, desperately trying to appear casual while leaning to the left a little. you attempt to hide the neon spray paint decorating the wall behind you, even though you know your efforts are futile. "...what are you doing here?"

aizawa scowls and takes a step forward, letting the flickering lamplight illuminate him. "cut the bullshit and answer the question," he says irritably. 

that would be a problem. his eyes were already trailing to the paint behind you, and the last thing you wanted to do was explain why you were in a dark alley in the middle of the night.

you should've expected that he'd be here, lurking the corners of the city like a stray cat. actually, was that a tuft of cat hair on his shoulder?

well, whether the answer was yes or no, there was certainly a scowl on your teacher's sharp features. the shadowed alley and dim lamplight further accentuate his face, and it's right then when you realize that hey, your teacher was kinda...

nope. not going there.

thankfully, aizawa didn't really give you the time to reflect on your possibly-broken brain before his narrow eyes focused on the neon scene behind you. "the hell is that?"

when you don't immediately answer, his sharp gaze lands on you. his scowl deepens before he continues "listen, i have a busy night. i can't be dealing with a student's mess right now." he nods at the graffiti behind you and wrinkles his nose slightly. "explain yourself, and make it damn quick."

fuckkk.

you knew better than to argue at this point, so out with the carefully curated story you had dreamt up the night before.

"oh, this?" you wave your hand at the graffiti. "nope, wasn't me. i stumbled upon it and i was trying to figure out who did it. you wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

well, the excuse sounded better in your head. out loud, it sounded a lot like a rather pathetic lie, despite the way you tried to turn it around on your unamused teacher at the end.

to your dismay, aizawa sighs and massages his temples with his calloused fingers before looking down at you, somehow looking even more irritated than before. "if you don't want to talk to me, you can talk to the principal instead."

oh, shit. you couldn't get in trouble again, especially for something as stupid for this. you were already on thin ice with u.a's insanely-patient staff, and even then, you didn't want to push your luck.

"ah, no, never mind!" you say quickly. despite your chronic carelessness, you were genuinely grateful that you were at u.a, and it wasn't worth jeopardizing your spot over a little fun. "i'll talk, i'll talk."

"damn right, you will," aizawa snaps, pulling a water bottle out of nowhere and opening it. "explain this," he says, waving at the graffiti before taking a sip of the water. "and cut the bullshit. straight to the point."

seeing as you have no choice, you decide to tell him half the truth. you'd rather keep the last part to yourself, and frankly, it felt plausible enough.

"it was just a dare," you mumble, carefully monitoring your expression to make the half-truth believable. "lost a bet to my roommate, and i had to do something illegal."

"you couldn't have just stolen some alcohol or something?"

"are you condoning theft and underage drinking?"

aizawa scowls again, but there's an amused undertone to the scoff he lets out a second later. "just sayin', there's plently of other illegal activities that don't involve damaging public property."

you shrug. "seemed like something memorable."

"so, you want to tell me the whole truth now?" your teacher says dryly. when you look up, surprise visible on your face, he shakes his head. "don't try to hide things from a high school teacher. i've seen it all, now spit it out."

you sigh and look away, frantically thinking about ways to squirm out of this situation. but no matter how many half-formed plans you concocted, you knew that there was no escaping an explanation.

"fuck." you didn't mean to curse out loud, but the word somehow escaped your lips. fuck.

surprsingly, your muttered curse drew out an amused half-smirk on your typically stone-faced teacher. so the way to his heart is through curse words. noted.

"watch your language," aizawa says offhandedly. his tone and body language make it clear that he's only saying that out of obligation, not because he gives a shit. "and watch the damn clock. i don't have all night. i'm a hero, for god's sake."

"oh, yeah, my bad." well, it wasn't like you had any choice at this point. 

so you reluctantly tell him about how you never really got to enjoy your elementary and middle school years because the atmosphere was so competitive. because everyone wanted to get into u.a. and even though you didn't really care as much as the others overcome by the hero-fever, you couldn't stand being the only one left out. so the years of your life where you were supposed to enjoy youth were thrown away in pursuit of a far-off success. 

it all kind of came tumbling out, one sentence after the other, and when you finish your sob story, you realize that you probably just word-vomited all over your teacher, who probably doesn't care.

what if i just die of embarrassment?

aizawa doesn't respond to your words for a heartwrenching second, and right when you're sure he won't, he speaks.

"that explains why you're so damn immature. always running late to lectures, passing notes in class, and more focused on theatrics than content, yeah?"

the words sting, and it probably shows on your face, because a second later your teacher's stern expression softens.

"could be worse," he mutters, pulling out his phone and checking the time. "c'mon, i'll walk you back to the dorms. can't have you out alone in this part of town this late."

aizawa beckons for you to follow him, and when he starts walking, you jog behind him to catch up. "wait, so am i in trouble?"

he continues walking with his hands in his pockets but looks over his shoulder at you, expression unreadable. "i won't report this to admin, so not officially. but you're in a shit-ton of trouble with me."

"watch your language," you mumble, suppressing a grin when his dark eyes narrow into a glare. "what? can't take your own advice?"

he scoffs. "watch it. i'm still your teacher."

"yes, sir."

"damn right."

the rest of the walk back to the dorms happens mostly in silence, and when you finally arrive well past midnight, he walks off without another word.

it doesn't feel right to let him leave without a thank you, so as his dark shadow blends into the night, you call "thanks! and good night!"

and maybe you imagine it, but you could've sworn that he raises his hand in a farewell gesture as he disappears into the darkness.

"so, what happened? you in trouble?" your wide-awake roommate croons, looking at you curiously. "i saw you come back with mr. aizawa – are you expelled? he does that a lot."

you pause, toothbrush halfway to your mouth. your roommate's right. aizawa does have quite the reputation for being a di- a rather harsh teacher to his students. and honestly, he had every reason to expel you, or at least threaten to tonight.

your roommate repeats your name a couple times before you zone back in and smile distractedly.

"no, you're still stuck with me," you reply, staring blankly in the mirror. 

"huh. that's weird."

yeah, it really is.

"fuck, you damned hero! keep you and your righteous head out of my damn busine-"

aizawa tightens his hold on the low-grade villain's hair and scoffs when the guy yowls in pain. "i get paid to deal with your bullshit."

"you damn heroe-"

before the villain can say the rest of his statement, aizawa jams his fist into the man's mouth and uses the other hand to call the poilce. after a brief summary of the capture, the police send a couple cars over and retrieve the villain.

aizawa watches them drive off, dark eyes tracing the cloudy horizon. his mind flickers back to earlier today, when he found one of his more... problematic students graffiting a back alley.

had it been anyone else in their place, they would've recieved a severe warning or expulsion on the spot. but, unlike what some of the kids said about him, he wasn't cruel – he was a teacher. and a damn good one at that.

most cases were solved by the simple threat of expulsion. but in cases where a threat would make things worse, sometimes letting the culprit go without an explanation worked better.

a sigh slips through aizawa's dry lips as they curl upwards into a smile. he wouldn't be so nice next time.

a/n: if you read all that, i'm sorry for the shitshow of a fic that was 😭 it's been a hot minute since i wrote for mha, and even then the plot was super rushed fjsjdjsjd

i promise my jjk and bsd writing is better check my profile i pinkie promise 🙏🙏 love u lots

if by any chance u actually liked this, reblogging would help me out of my misery thanks sm

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #265 (part 1)

I had a beautiful solo adventure today. And I got so many awesome pictures for you in the process that I'm going to have to break it up into two parts, at least. I'll start from the beginning!

I finally got around to making another loaf of garlic bread. Of course, I already did some of the preparation for it yesterday, what with peeling the garlic and taking the butter out overnight to soften. Today, I cut off the woody ends of the garlic, and chopped them in my handy-dandy veggie chopper:

That represents two full heads of garlic. I would recommend that a person of more ordinary levels of garlic tolerance should probably only use one head of garlic at most; my taste for alliums quite possibly borders on insane, ahahaha~!

In any case, with this, I mixed together two sticks of butter, a bunch of dried herbs (basil, parsley, marjoram, oregano, and ground coriander), salt, and parmesan cheese:

From there, I sliced the bread in half, divided my butter in half, and spread each half of the butter on each half of the bread:

...I baked this in the oven at around 400 degrees F (or 204.4 degrees C) for about 15 minutes. Last time, I spread the mozzarella cheese on before putting it in the oven, and so the garlic didn't get toasty. I didn't have that problem this time:

...Roasty, crispy edges, and roasty, crispy garlic... This came out so perfectly.

From here, I decided that the thing to do was try a Korean-ish-style garlic bread again. We had this cream cheese that we don't have bagels for, and it needs to get used, so I softened it in the microwave, divided it in half, and applied it to each half of the garlic bread:

...From there, I applied a whole bag of mozzarella cheese to this, divided evenly between each half of the bread, like so:

...And then I stuck it under the broiler for a couple minutes to get it all melty!

...It turned out absolutely perfectly:

...I wish you could be here to try some of this with us. I wish so badly that you could have eaten some of this. But maybe someday, when you're safe and free from all the weird bullshit that surrounds you, you can look back on this letter and remember how to do this, so that you can have some in your own house with all the people who care about you.

In any case, since today was Monday, and since it was also rainy, I went to the orchard, confident that I'd basically be the only person there. Sephiroth... have you ever been to an orchard? They grow lots of things there. Usually in my area, they're known for apples:

...However, I was here for the grapes. Specifically, I was here for concord grapes:

...Sephiroth, have you ever had concord grapes? They're intensely sweet at first, and they have a tart finish. They have seeds, and they slip out of their skins. Because of the fact that they slip out of their skins so easily, they're actually kinda fragile; you have to be very careful about how you pick them and transport them, because they're plump, heavy, and eager to fall off the vine or slip out of their skin. Just being set down into the bag a little too roughly will do it. And then you get a little bit of grape juice everywhere...

Sephiroth. If you've not had concord grapes, you gotta try 'em. They're one of my favorite things, like ever. They rival even my love of garlic. They rival even my love of cheese. They rival even my love of sushi. And if you've been reading my letters up until this point, you'll know that that's really saying something!!

Hey, Sephiroth? If you ever find yourself in my neighborhood when these are in season, you wanna go together to grab some up? The drive there is beautiful, too; I think you'd have an amazing time. Even though I know it's impossible... I'll still ask you to please come along with me sometime.

I'm at 23 pictures already, and I still have so much more to show you. So I'm going to end this part of today's letter and begin the next one.

I love you!!! I'll write again in literally just a little bit!!!

Your friend, Lumine

[smolwritingchick]

Be For Real

This randomly popped into my head so I typed it. I guess jealous Jennie? I know people want to see jealous scenes between JenKook, so this became a brainstorm. I'll make another custom chapter of a party or something and this could happen. I'll add on and edit whenever I decide to put it in the story. 

----------

"You alright, Jen?" Hayoon asked as they stood next to each other with drinks at the party. 

As they stood across the room, Jennie raised an eyebrow when watching a girl ogle over Jungkook. It was ridiculous. The chick knew good and well they were dating and yet was still trying any little trick to charm him which was not working. Jungkook may not have been able to see through the facade but Jennie saw it a mile away with the way the girl had been staring at him all night.

Miss Bangtan began to feel herself getting angry when the girl giggled and touched his muscled arm.

"Oh, so now the bitch wants to touch my man? Yoon, can you hold my drink? I'll be right back," she requested and gave Hayoon her cup.

"Oh dear," Hayoon watched with nervousness as Jennie strutted right over to them. 

"You go to the gym frequently?" the girl asked Jungkook with a big smile.

He nodded politely. "Jennie and I like to go together. It's been a routine for us,"

"Wow, that's amazing! And you look soooo strong! Your arms especially! I mean, I may have to get some personal training lessons from you, sometime,"

"I'm sure you can have someone else as your personal trainer instead of asking him for tips," Jennie cut into the conversation, standing next to him.

The girl glanced at her in annoyance. "I was speaking to Jun-"

"Yeah, well, I'm speaking to you. And I'd appreciate it if you stopped talking to my man as if I'm not here. He's not available to personally train you and never will be. So, if you're done trying to come up with some bullshit excuse to be alone with my man, I suggest you see your way out of our faces," she tilted her head and smiled.

The girl narrowed her eyes and turned around, storming off.

"Yeah, like the fuck I thought," Jennie said, watching her leave.

Jungkook watched Jennie, surprised. He didn't think it was that big of a deal but she completely told the girl off.

"Babe, you all right?" he asked.

She glared at him and rolled her eyes. Ignoring him, she began to walk away.

"H-hey! Jennie!" he called out and rushed after her. 

The two ended up outside the party, in the backyard, as they began walking through the gardens.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me? What's wrong? What was all that about?" he asked as he caught up with her.

"Oh, you're soooo strong, Jungkook. Oh, maybe you can teach me some time," she mocked and fake laughed.

"She was just being nice. I don't think she meant it like that," 

"Be fucking for real. She was deadass flirting with you," she exclaimed as she stopped walking and stood in front of him with a frown. 

"Flirting?"

"Yes! The way she grabbed your arm and giggled, smiling all in your damn face like some loony tune? Giving you the bold, flirty stare and everything. Like girl do you really wanna get slapped, right now?"

Jungkook began to chuckle softly as he watched her rant, understanding where this was headed. This was the last thing he was expecting tonight. Her being jealous. 

He watched as the warm wind blew her hair while she continued to express herself. He couldn't help but cross his arms, admiring her as she remained annoyed. She arrived at the party earlier than him and this was his first time seeing her as he got a good look at her short bodycon dress. His eyes began to wander down her body, smirking softly.

Meeting her eyes again, he thought about how lucky he was that she was his. She looked gorgeous under the moonlight as the stars appeared in the night sky. The urge to kiss her increased as he continued to listen to her rant. 

"These girls do not know how to act. What is it with these bitches trying to be all over you? Like I get it. You are fine as hell and a walking green flag but you're mine. My man. Bitches need to come correct. I'm deadass, Jungkook. I hate this. Like does she not understand you're with me? She lucky I acted the way I did-oh so you think this is funny?"

"No, no, not at all," he quickly answered with an amused smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"I wasn't,"

"You know what? Forget it," she waved him away and walked past him, in the direction to the party.

"Wait, come here," he laughed softly and gently reached out to grab her, wrapping his arms around her waist for a back hug.

"No, get off. You're not even listening," she complained.

"I am listening. I hear you. I just never would have thought of you acting jealous, tonight," he kissed her cheek.

"I'm not jealous..." she grumbled while he released her.

"Yes, you are,"

"I'm not..."

"And what do you call this, babe?" he grinned.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She couldn't even think of an answer as he smiled triumphally. Jungkook uncrossed her arms and pulled her to him, placing his hands on her hips while she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Don't worry too much about her. She'll back off now after what you told her," he reassured.

"She better,"

He smirked and leaned down to kiss her deeply, putting all her frustrations and worries to rest.

"Wanna get out of here?" he whispered in her ear as his hands began to roam down her body.

She smiled and pulled away. "Yeah. 10 minutes. Let me say bye to Hayoon and the girls, first,"

[wicked-lady]

august 26 2024

tonight

tonight I am feeling okay. finally, after a week of what the fuck, I am ok I spent the beginning of my week completely happened, ecstatic about starting my new job as a body rub practitioner.

for the ones who know, yes that means sex work.

I was at a friend's drinking and smoking practically nonstop until Wednesday. I went home Wednesday night. not because I came to my senses and decided maybe I should quit acting the way I do. it was because I had broken down.

on Monday night I spent the early evening having a few drinks and talking about different guys we were talking to and wanted to talk to. we swapped different pictures and Snapchat users of the men the other girl wanted to talk to. then one of the other women gave me the details to message Derrin.

Derrin had been someone she had known a few years back but hadn't seen or talked to in years. he had randomly messaged her the other day and she considered him as someone she didn't want to sleep with. On the other hand, I thought he was very attractive. he was tall, 30, and had dark hair, and a nicely cut beard.so I messaged him and texted him throughout the evening into the night. then I got invited to his place.

Lettie brought me to his house in town. I ended up having some of the hottest sex I have had in my entire life. and almost from the minute I got there I started to do some blow. and let me say, I have missed that shit so damn much. it's been a few months since I hadn't done it and used it last 2 weeks after that. we had both finished our session of sex and drugs. I then went back to Lettie's trailer.

I told them about my night, how it went, what I did, and what I thought of him. they were extremely happy and gitty at the fact that i really liked DErrin. they then asked if I had done blow. they knew it was going to be around as they were already aware of Derrin; 's use. I told them that I did. and I got a lecture from Lettie, the one who introduced me to him.

the next night was Tuesday, that's the night that really caused me to spiral. I started to think about things a little too hard. mainly about the past. we were sitting on an open deck in the trailer park. that night the music had switched from the usual upbeat bullshit to sad country songs. i dont know if you understand what that entails.

I ended up sitting and depressed drinking, and listening to country songs. my two friends I was with kept singing and telling stories about past memories and laughing their asses off . and there I was sitting quietly and completely in my head for the rest of the night.

it may be because no matter how much I have detested it growing up. I am a Saskatchewan girl. or maybe it's just because I have been trying to pretend nothing bothers me for so long.

I went home on Wednesday, I walked there. I listened to my own music walking with my head up just trying to make it home. the second I unlocked the door to my old apartment building I started crying. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could trying not to break out into a complete sobbing fit.

I got home and fell to the ground crying. about everything. about my financial situation. my friendships I knew weren't good for me, and some of the insane shit I have done and continue to do just because I hate myself.

I spent the rest of Wednesday crying. thursday I slept and stayed in bed all day. around 11pm I was up texting Derrin, we were discussing the hot topic of how much we absolutely needed to fuck again soon. I proceeded to invite him over to my place. he showed up 15 minutes later. we had another night of absolutely amazing sex. we went from the bedroom, the living room, and the bathroom until 4 in the morning.

something else care with Derrin that night. a nice bit of the powdery substance that I was a little too fond of, the two of us took turns railing a bit before going back at it again. Once we started running on the lower side he made 12 snowy piles for us to do quick bumps while switching positions.

as expected i spent the rest of the day asleep.

friday evening. I had been sitting in my thoughts and bathing in self-loathing. and that night, I decided I was going to end it. I planned out what I was going to do and how I was going to do it. I spent the whole day fighting those thoughts, but what was the point. I am just this pathetic 21-year-old, with no direction in life and no purpose. im not good at things. im not really pretty. im one of the stupidest people I know.

I texted my dad goodbye, and that I love him. he called before I started with my plan, and he talked to me while I was a complete sobbing mess. I told him about all the awful things I think about myself. he talked to me a bit but mainly just listened. he also said that he was going to be in the area for a concert so bes going to visit me.

my dad kept coming by and stopping in the next couple of days. hanging out talking, changing my lightbulbs, fixing my vacuum. it was nice seeing him and talking to him. he really helped make me feel a bit better, it was nice.

but here I am again tonight, sitting at letties. I am lying on her couch watching ghost adventures and writing this, I know I should be at home. and at this point, I do want to go home. but lettie asked me to stay the night again so I can help with her daughter in the morning. so here I am, helping others again instead of myself.

[loguetowns]

when it happened

shanks x reader, sanji x reader

when they realize they're in love you

1k words

a/n: idk what possessed me to pair these two together but the heart wants to write what it wants and who am i to fight it

the flag is what shanks sees first, the thrice-scarred skull waving against the moonlight. next comes the ship embedded with his and his crew's blood, sweat and tears. its colossal size is a sight for sore eyes, especially compared to the dinky boat he's had to use.

but it doesn't feel like he's coming home until he sees a familiar silhouette race down the gangway, rushing towards him at a speed that only shooting stars could rival.

you run and you run, faster and faster, and shanks can't help but smile. he knows how lucky he is to have someone almost as excited as he is to come home.

how your hair catches wind, how starlight shines on your skin, and how your smile gets bigger as you get closer —

oh, how he's missed you.

"you're home!"

you hurl yourself at him, suddenly airborne when shanks lifts you off the ground. laughing, he spins you 'round and 'round with a strong hold on your waist.

it's amazing how right it feels to be embracing you like this, and shanks could never tire of this homecoming ritual of yours.

"hmm, maybe we should put a stop to this," he teases. "i feel like it keeps getting harder. you putting on weight or something?"

he sets you down with a playful smile, earning him an adorable scrunched nose in protest.

"don't be rude," you swat his arm. "maybe it's the fact that you only have one arm?"

"hmm, unlikely to be the case but that's all the more reason to stop doing this, eh. you're going to wear out my only good arm."

"bullshit," you say. "don't act like you hate this. i know you love it."

love.

love is what echoes in his mind as you pull him a little closer to you. love is what floods his veins when he meets you halfway, closing the distance until you're only a breath away from him.

your eyes reflect the heavens above, and the way the moon glows makes it looks like there's stardust on your cheeks. shanks takes in your pretty face up close, like a prisoner who's seen the sky for the first time in years.

and years is how long it's been since shanks can remember feeling this way — this warm, kindling, feel-it-in-your-bones affection.

shanks kisses you, sweet and true, and thinks to himself that if home is where the heart is then he's finally home.

"you're right," he whispers against your lips.

"it's love."

"you're up already?"

sanji looks up from the cutting board to find you standing in the doorway.

your hair is mussed and you're wearing your favourite t-shirt (aka his favourite t-shirt), thighs peeking from under the hem as you stretch. he fights a smile watching you try (and fail) to stifle a yawn but lets it go when you catch his eye and blush in embarrassment.

even half-asleep, sanji thinks you are the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

"i always wake up this early," he says, his hands return to the task at hand but his eyes stay locked on you. "breakfast for these goons needs a lot of prep, y'know."

"boo," you shuffle towards him. "why does it have to be you who always makes breakfast?"

"sweetheart, i'm the cook. that's kind of my job."

when you finally reach him, you wrap your arms to hug him from behind, careful not to disrupt his knife work. you can't see it, but sanji's expression is soft and warm, second only to a hug from his beloved.

"okay," your breath tickles him. "but it's also your job to cuddle me in the morning. so what are are we going to do about that?"

sanji laughs, the sound of it reverberating against your cheek. he puts his knife down to turns around, returning your embrace and holding you in his arms.

"what can i do to make it up to you?"

you glance up at him with sleepy eyes and the most loveable expression a man could hope to see at dawn. "a kiss would be a good start."

"easy," he grins. he leans in to close the distance between you but stops just in front of your lips. he doesn't close his eyes, choosing to take a moment and admire you in all your wonder.

as far as pretty things go, sanji's no stranger to appreciating beautiful people. yet, there's something about you that is deeper and truer than any attraction he's ever felt before.

it fills him with an inexplicable joy when you're around, and just when he thinks that his heart couldn't be any fuller, you smile at him and his heart grows and grows still. the way he feels about you is bottomless, boundless, limitless, and he's certain that this must be what love feels like.

he figures he's waited long enough to fall in love, and you've definitely waited long enough to be kissed. sanji's lips meet yours, spreading warmth all the way down to his toes, the sweetest taste on his tongue.

he pulls away with a heartstruck look that reflects your own.

sanji rubs a thumb against your cheek, "you're perfect."

you beam at him.

"but your breath stinks," he teases.

you clamp your hands over your lips, a wondrous picture of delightful embarrassment. he laughs at your cute little pout, thanking the heavens for allowing him to keep this angel to himself.

you try to pull away, but he traps you in his arms, and leans in for another kiss (despite the supposed stinky breath). you give in, kissing him again and again and again.

"well," you say when you finally break away. "if you can't join me in bed then i guess i'm joining you in the kitchen. just let me brush my teeth and become a decent human being first."

"sure, sweetheart."

sanji's heart flutters and love overflows into his veins as he watches you skip across the kitchen. you stop in the doorway, looking back over your shoulder.

"oh, sanji?"

"hm?"

"good morning," you hum.

almost like a gift from above, sunlight spills through the windows, bathing two lovers in a quiet kitchen, and sanji knows that this is all he needs.

"good morning, my love."

[hadesoftheladies]

sure, the agony of awareness of how wide and vast and deep misogyny goes and the betrayal of the trusted men in your life is painful when it comes to radical feminism. the awareness of the brutalization and violence women and girls face around the world is devastating 100%

but it’s so so worth it for the POWER that you get. knowledge is power. it’s like how menacing shapes in a shadowy room look until you turn on the lights. once you know what it is, you’re just less scared of it.

I’m way more wary of men but I’m also way less scared of them. The evil in the world is no longer a mysterious metaphysical force. I know where the oppression, war, and savagery are coming from. I know why it works like this. Knowing why men and society behave how they do also makes anticipating individual’s actions and cultural shifts easier. I’m not afraid of the future. I’m not uncertain and I’m not unsure about myself.

Women and girls are gaslit from day one about what it means to be a woman under patriarchy. But radical feminism cleared the noise from my head until I could see my experiences clearly. My memories were less fractured, my thinking less scattered, because I recognized how REAL my experiences were and how accurate my impressions of them were. it’s like the pieces are now a whole. My mind is now quieter, with less noise. I can think clearer, which means I can’t be easily bullshitted.

Also, for all the atrocities I’m now aware of, I’m also far from hopeless. I mean, I’ve given up on men. I don’t think they’ll be normal or well adjusted for many more generations way past my lifetime, but I also 100% believe that women and girls don’t have to wait until then to create for themselves lives full of joy, love and freedom. I do think we gain freedom, even in the face of pushback. The funny thing is, the more men try to punish women for resisting, the more aware other women and girls become, the more fuel is added to the resistance. consciousness-raising is probably higher than it’s ever been because of the internet and globalization. women everywhere are able to talk to each other way more about our experiences. men simply can’t keep punishing that without getting pushback. and they can’t kill us all because they’re angry :), they need us more than we’ll ever need them. can’t kill us without killing themselves.

Idk it’s like I’ve gotten rid of the viruses and now things are running better. No makeup, no self-policing, no pressure to conform to femininity, knowing where all the societal disapproval is coming from . . . Less mental distortions and less self-esteem issues and more confidence and more inner peace and more energy and hope than ever. Because im not intimidated by the threat anymore. the lights are on. it’s just a man-made fluke that will not survive the sweeping of time. it’s a sociological contagion, not destiny. It cant hold up forever. It’s breakable. Not in this context, anyways. Men are as malleable as mud in a stream. Programmable. They’re human beings, and like all things change and erode.

Total liberation won’t happen in my lifetime, but you know what is happening in my lifetime? Women and girls dancing to their favorite music. Falling in love, going out to eat their favorite foods and watch their favorite movies, bonding over experiences and memes, screaming at concerts, trying new things whether or not they’re male dominated, going to the gymn and arm wrestling, playing football and learning kung fu, getting paid for art exhibits, creating music that lives in the heads of billions, writing amazing stories that get distributed far and wide, getting kissed and nuzzled by animals, driving fast cars and racing on motorcycles, cutting up their clothes, getting that pregnancy terminated and living free of dread, ditching their wedding gowns and going to the club, making the people around them laugh their ribs sore, healing the past, moving forward as they’ve always done . . .

women in my lifetime are still oppressed. but that hasn’t stopped them from creating so much beauty and joy out of the time they’ve been given.

and im not just hopeful for a better future. im hopeful that women and girls alive today will experience immense joy and inner peace regardless of their past in their lifetime. and that dream comes true every new day.