#and his buddy on the left—did this guy straight up rip the sleeves off his naval uniform?! punk's not dead... punk's not even born yet

[daguerreotyping]

Tintype of a group of barefoot sailors at ease, c. 1870s

[jaeminscoffee]

Enough. (m.)

Pairing- Jung Jaehyun x reader

Genre- Smut, Fluff towards the end.

Word count - 3k

Warnings- Harddom!Jaehyun, Sub!reader,Rough sex (are we shocked), manhandling, degradation, choking, overstimulation, strong language, hair pulling, spanking, slight size kink, dirty talking, Jaehyun is pissed.

(just realised this is the longest warning list I've made so like, buckle up, you're up for a really messy long ass ride)

Summary- Jaehyun had had enough of your behavior.

(Minors kindly try not to interact with my blogs!)

Jaehyun's life has been going at a very fast pace with the ongoing promotion of an ordeal according to you. 

Don't take it the wrong way, you were extremely happy that your boyfriend's getting promoted, but he's so caught up with it that you get the minimal attention from his side. Or so you think. 

Jaehyun is an extremely kind lad, but is an extreme disciplinarian. He is also highly patient, which you take a little too much advantage of. 

Take for example this one time the past week, Jaehyun had left early for a really important meeting when you'd decided to spam him with pictures, well not so moral. He wouldn't have minded if it was when he was in his cabin, but thinking it would've been something important seeing how many messages he was getting, he opened your texts, a picture of you in his favourite pair of lingerie took up it's place on his screen, and his fucking colleague got a glimpse of it. 

Strike one. 

Then came this time when he was busy completing a very crucial project, you texted him in bold "I'm in trouble' making Jaehyun's heart jump right up his throat. When he'd called you the very second, all he heard right after you had picked up the call was you whimpering, gasping his name slowly. You were touching yourself without his permission. 

Strike two. 

He could deal with all of that, stuffing the madness deep within him to not give you what you want, wanting to show you that your petty ways of grabbing his attention won't work on him. That just riled you up more. It got you even worked up seeing him walk in and out of the house with nothing but content on his face, no matter what you'd do. Want to scream at him? Well go ahead, Hm, silent treatment? Nah. Nagging should do the work, right? Wrong.

It's when he arrived home, all happy with the news he'd received at work when you decided to act up. 

"I'm home!" Jaehyun screamed from the entrance, loosening his tie, making his way towards where you were, the bedroom. 

"Babe! I've got good news--!" he got cut off, by you slamming yourself right onto him, holding him by the wall beside your bedroom door. 

"Have you been ignoring me?" you ask, voice gruff. Jaehyun's face seemed to contort, pondering when he'd done so. 

"No?" He answered, mostly questioning himself. You huff out, turning towards the side as the neediness from being lonely and untouched for over weeks got the best of you. You look at him, dead in the eyes, "Yes you did. You picked up none of my calls.-" he cut you off with his reasoning "I was in a meeting baby-" you cut him off this time, "And you ignored each one of my texts. You saw them, but didn't bother replying." 

Jaehyun let his eyes roam around your figure, draped in his black shirt, hair left free, face red from anger, chest heaving. He smiled knowingly. 

"I was busy, now would you be an absolute sweetheart and make me something while I go freshen up?" he ended with a hum, bending down to place a peck on your lips. 

"No." you reply, backing away from his body, walking backwards as you grip at the hem of your shirt, "No?" Jaehyun replied, now standing comfortably by the wall you'd shoved him onto with his arms folded over his chest. 

"No." you confirm, "Alright suit yourself." he shrugged, still standing there to see what you've got up your sleeves as you proceed to walk backwards in the direction of your closet. 

"I'm going over to Johnny's. At least he'd pay me more attention." you mumbled the last part, wantedly a little louder for him to hear. 

Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows, he'd just gotten home. "And why would you do that?" he asked, stepping away from the wall, taking one small step towards you. "Because he knows how to give me attention and when." you reply loud and clear. Jaehyun visibly stiffened. 

You and Johnny had a history, you met Jaehyun through him, in fact. You guys were what your friends called friends with benefits. You'd cut off those ties and resorted to being best friends after getting into a relationship, of course. But Jaehyun always seemed hesitant to let you be alone with Johnny, but still gave you the freedom to do so. 

"What did you just say?" his voice gravelly as he took another step towards you. Jaehyun's sudden shift of demeanor makes you flinch the slightest. "I said, he knows how to give me attention and when, better than you for that matter."

Now that was strike three. 

Jaehyun's eyes darkened, as his built figure took long, fast strides towards you, scaring you a little, knowing you'd crossed the line. He stopped just an inch in front of you making you crane your neck to look at him, him lowering himself to be eye level with you. 

"What are you trying to get on, Y/n." Jaehyun asked, the pent up frustration of over time finally getting to him, gripping your shoulders in a tight hold making you hiss under your breath. 

Clearing your throat, you look down, then back up to his eyes, "Literally nothing. All I said was I'm going out to Johnnys" you stare at him with the same intensity his gaze held. Jaehyun's eyes narrowed, "Give me the exact reason." he asked, voice multiple octaves low. "Exact reason?" he hummed, "Well because my boyfriend won't fucking touch me so i have to seek help from my fuck buddy. There, happy?" 

You blink and next second you feel yourself being thrown down onto the sheets, earning a short gasp from your mouth. "Starting to whore around again, huh?" he spoke through gritted teeth, stripping out of his work suit, his biceps bulging as he removed his tie, his wrist watch, discarding only the watch by the side table, tie still in hand. 

"Well, whores get treated like whores." Jaehyun looked at you the way one would look at their prey. You whimper, his words, his aura, his voice all going straight to your core, sending shocks all throughout your body. "Strip." he ordered, standing tall, tie wrapped around his palm, arms folded over his chest, shifting his weight from one leg to another, body still adorning his white formal shirt and the black office pants, shirt tucked in making him look ethereal. 

You immediately comply, having waited for this all about the week, the only real material to remove being his shirt that had lifted up your thigh from how he'd thrown you onto the bed. 

You sit on your knees waiting for his next command. Jaehyun let out a throaty chuckle at your innocent gaze. He walked over towards the edge of the bed, gesturing with his hands for you to come over. You crawl over to him, sitting on your knees once again. You see him unwrap the tie and hold it in one hand, the other reaching out, "Give me your hands." he said in a throaty voice. You hesitate to do so, not wanting to be snatched of your freedom to touch him. 

You look at him with the most appealing, seductive look you could muster, trying to change his mind, all Jaehyun did was stare at you, boredom visible in his eyes. He waited, raising his eyebrows as you looked down at your hands that were resting on the bare flesh of your thigh. Jaehyun clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed, he took hold of your hands in a tight grip, "I don't like repeating myself, baby" he fumed, placing the silk clothing around your wrist, wrapping it multiple time before tying a knot tight enough to leave a bruise, making you wince, "And you know that." with one last tug at the knot, he backed away. 

Jaehyun removed his shirt, ripping it basically and all you could do was stare at him with lust oozing out of your eyes. At the sight of your boyfriends toned torso, you let out a silent moan, reaching your hands down between your thighs with your now tied up wrist, trying to soothe the aching. "Touch yourself and you won't even be allowed to fucking come." He growled, discarding the belt and his shirt, the only clothing on his body being his pants. You flinch at the tone of his voice, subtly brushing the tip of your finger on your clit, removing it immediately at his words. 

"Good. At least you know who does what here." Jaehyun exclaimed with voice dripping dominance, walking towards the bed once again and onto the bed, sitting the same way as you, still being taller. He trailed his hands up from your stomach, through the valley of your chest, and towards your neck, wrapping the elegant digits around the muscle, applying pressure, pushing you down onto the mattress. 

You look at him eyes wide, as the pressure increases, "Tell me, princess. Why have you been acting up lately?" Jaehyun inquired, hovering over your body, his broad shoulders covering you almost fully, the feeling of being powerless making your essence drip down onto the sheets 

"Answer me, bitch." he raised his voice, grip tightening around your neck, "J-jae-" you tap his hands, trying to let him know the pressure was too much. He didn't seem bothered though, until you frantically tried your hardest to gather as much oxygen as you could, he loosened just the slightest. 

"I-i'm sorry.. " was all you could get out, his eyes roaming all over your face before leaning down and capturing your lips in a rough kiss. Finally having some sort of your skinship with your boyfriend making you feel ecstatic as you allow yourself to slip into your subspace. Jaehyun swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, then biting it hard enough to draw a small amount of blood, making you gasp out loud, him taking advantage of your open mouth, slipping his tongue in. 

The exact moment, without you noticing, his hands had trailed down your body, towards your throbbing core, cupping the heat before shoving two digits straight into your wetness. 

You scream into the kiss, Jaehyun gulping down the sound, pulling away to hear your moans that were so addicting to his ears, the only thing keeping you attached being a string of saliva. 

Jaehyun didn't like it slow, his pace inhumanly fast in thrusting in and out of you, drawing moans after moans from you. 

"Look at you squirming already, tsk." He laughed, looking down at where his fingers disappeared in you, essence splattering each time he pulsed in. 

"J-Jae!" you tug at your wrist, wanting something to hold onto as he kept going, fingers curling in you making you jerk as you feel the tip of his fingers brush against your soft spot. 

With the actions of his skilled fingers, his gaze and the constant taunts, you felt yourself being dragged towards your high, expecting Jaehyun to slow down at the feeling of your wall clenching around his fingers, but all he did was smirk at you, moving downwards and increased the speed of his arms, the other wrapping around your middle to keep you in place as you thrash around, feeling your orgasm rip out of you. 

Jaehyun gave you one last smug look, before lowering himself, capturing your bundle of nerves in his mouth, fingers still going on about wanting to force another orgasm out of you.

You try closing your legs, the action making Jaehyun graze his teeth on your clit, removing his mouth from it right after, only to give your core a slightly rough smack, "Keep it open, baby. You wanted this." he mumbled against your core, vibrations of his voice travelling up your stomach, making your nipples painfully perk up, then resumed sucking and tugging on the sensitive bud. 

"jesus, fuck!" you cry out, not being given the chance to come down from your high, making you shut your eyes tight. 

Jaehyun dragged his fingers out slow, shoving it in with full force, watching you lift your back off the sheets, making the boy chuckle. His fingers fastened, if that was possible, tongue circling the clit, as you feel yourself near your second orgasm. 

"Ah, you're close again. Good, good." he spoke against your south lip, the feeling drawing you straight towards your high, as you feel a tear slip out of your eyes. 

Jaehyun immediately removed his fingers, lapping up the juices sprawling out of you, watching you twitch from being overstimulated. Eating you up clean, he backed away from your burning body, quickly discarding his pants alongside his boxer, chucking it somewhere behind him as you turned towards your side from the slight pain in your abdomen. 

Jaehyun looked at you, all fucked out, boosting his ego up further, as you desperately tried catching your breath. Futile. 

He let himself crawl back up your body, his hands removing the stray hair falling on your face, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair as you let yourself melt at his soft action. Funny, because the next moment, he gripped your roots, pulling you back onto your back making your breath hitch. "I had you come twice in less than 10 minutes, princess. You think Johnny could've done that?" he grunted, his painfully hardened dick now aligned by your entrance, making you squirm away as much as you could, Jaehyun keeping you in place with his hands tangled in your hair.

"Why the fuck are you silent now? Huh? Finally feeling bad for your sorry ass?" he tugged at the roots once again, making you shut your eyes tight at the pain, wanting freedom to move your hands however you want, being restrained by his necktie around your wrist.

Jaehyun dragged his length over your wetness, lubricating it before shoving it in completely, "Good, b-because i rather prefer you moan than use that annoying voice t-to talk about another guy" he grunted, the wetness and your tight walls feeling pleasurable on his member. 

You let out choked moans, letting Jaehyun ram himself inside you, tears continuously flowing down your cheeks. Jaehyun removed his hand from your hair, placing it beside your head instead to balance himself over you as he set a fast pace in going in and out. 

Jaehyun groaned, letting all his anger out by torturing your core, "Ja-jae slow down, I'm sensi-t-tive" you blurt out, mouth wide open. You hear him growl, pulling out of you, instead of saying anything, he flipped you onto your stomach, lifting your hips up in the air, before shoving his length back in. You let out a loud enough scream, clenching around his member, "That h-hurts.. " you cry out, keeping yourself up the best you could with your tied hands. "It should. With how you've been acting, you fucking deserve it." Jaehyun spoke, moving his hips against yours once again. In all honesty, you didn't want him to slow down, the pain not too unbearable, just perfect enough to be extremely pleasurable. 

Busy trying to focus on the feeling of his member moving in and out of your numb walls and trying to control your breath, you fail to notice one of his hands leave your waist, rubbing the flesh of your ass in a circular motion, lifting it up and bringing it down with full force, making you yelp at the sudden contact, "That's for being a fucking slut the entire week" his hands came down again, smacking the exact same spot, "That's for distracting me during work" you moan out, feeling your climax come closer with each smack, "That's for touching yourself." he groaned. 

He rubbed the reddening skin, bringing it back down with all his power, "That's for thinking about Johnny when I'm your fucking boyfriend" he finished, feeling you clench around his member as you reach your high. 

"And now she's coming again, fucking pathetic." he swore, your wetness producing squelching noises each time he pushed in, your overly dripping cunt now simply aching, unable to feel pleasure anymore. 

"J-jae i can't.." you say out in a strained voice, arms giving out as you lean your upper body down onto the mattress completely. "You can take a little more, and you will." he replied, going faster as he felt himself nearing the edge. Thrusts sloppier, Jaehyun reached out forward, gripping your hair once again, making you arch your back in a painful angle, as he held you there. His other hand reached out around your body, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motion, wanting you to come along with him. 

You tug at your wrist again, feeling the material pierce through your skin, making you cry out loud with pain both in your core and your wrist. 

You bite down your lips, feeling Jaehyun halt his hips, seeds coating your wall, the feeling having you experience an intense orgasm. 

He pulled out after emptying himself in you, your cries getting muffled, you feel both your juices drip down your thighs as Jaehyun gently lay you down. 

He took a hold of your hands, removing the tie, wincing at the red bruises, placing soft pecks all over the bruised area, he mumbled out a sorry, to which you just nodded your head. 

Jaehyun moved his body to sleep beside you, placing a kiss on your forehead as he ran his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner, making you calm down, "You okay?" he asked softly, you murmur out a faint yes, snuggling up his chest. 

After minutes of silence, the pain finally reducing the slightest, you ask Jaehyun, "you said something about having a good news..?" you whisper out loud enough for him to hear, eyelids growing heavier. He laughed out at your question, looking down at you, placing his chin on top of your head.

"Oh yeah, i got promoted."

[jasonscaramel]

Positions - The Mandalorian

Din Djarin x unnamed female reader (credit to gif maker up there I just work here)

warnings include: i was inspired by ariana grande’s new album, i also haven’t written in forever (much less for din—that’s never), 2.9k words, heterosexual sex, slight cockwarming, slight dom!din (but that’s all you’ll ever get from me)

author’s note before we get started: i have more of these planned so if you’re interested in being tagged let me know! also it has been forever since I've written so if you like it pls let me know

Being a multi-faceted human being isn’t that difficult, especially growing up in the middle of an endless galaxy. You were taught many valuable lessons growing up: cooking, farming, smuggling, hand to hand combat—the necessities to keep you alive. So upon your first ever meeting with a Mandalorian, it was no shock that he deemed you useful almost straight away.

Growing up with defected Imperial parents, the intelligence training you received from your paranoid parents was better than the Empire could offer. You were sneaky, sly, and downright deceptive when you needed to be. Talking a bounty into walking straight into their death was easy, as was putting them down yourself if you needed to.

You’re also a damn good babysitter. And kids love you.

All around, it was a no brainer for Din—after promising you passage to a nearby planet that ended up being a six month journey—to keep you on board. You were all attached to each other at that point, especially the kid. He found maternal energy quite soothing, and even if you weren’t his mother, it seemed as though having a woman to counteract all the Boy going on eased the little one’s mind.

So now you’re here, the kid strapped to your chest and Din by your side, the only thing in your way of the Razor Crest is the man holding a knife to your throat. He’s trying, and failing, to get ahold of the kid in the process. Din pulls out his blaster in a move to protect the both of you, and the knife shoves further in your neck.

“Come any closer and they’re dead!” The man shouts in your ear, and a squeal comes from the makeshift baby carrier on your chest. You look at Din, hoping desperately he’s making eye contact with you. You give him a single nod, then stomp on the man’s foot as hard as you can, moving to grab the knife from your pocket. The blade at your throat is piercing, but you ignore it to stab the knife into the man’s thigh. He finally pulls away in agony as you rip it out, only to shove it into his throat seconds later. He hits the ground with a thump, choking on blood, and the kid lets out a relieved huff.

“Let’s go, it’s freezing,” you say as your teeth chatter, wrapping your arms the kid and snuggling for dear life. You can feel the sticky warm blood trickling ever so slowly down your neck, but the wound doesn’t hurt.

Upon entering the Razor Crest and shutting the hatch, Din turns his attention to you. “Does it hurt?”

You give a slight chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Din. You get us in hyperspace, I’ll put the kid to bed and get cleaned up.” You left no room for arguments as you made your way over to the baby’s pram and began unraveling him from your chest. You noticed Din hadn’t moved yet, but you didn’t really mind. He’s very protective of his son, so it doesn’t affect you to have him watch you coddle the kid, coo at him and sing him to sleep, if only it puts Din’s mind a little more at ease. With the lives you live, it’s hard for either of you to have trust in anyone. The only way is to prove yourself, and you intend to do it every day. Maybe for a little more than trust, but hey, you’re not complaining having Din stare at you all the time.

By the time the kid is ready to lay down, the ship is up and beginning its course. You shut the little guy in on himself so nothing bothers him and head to the refresher. Looking in the mirror, you have a sizable cut on your throat, but it’s only surface damage. You wipe off the blood, put on the first antiseptic you can find and head out. Apart from that little scuffle, your day had been relatively uneventful. You stopped on this planet to get groceries and fuel, for maker’s sake.

Settling into the co-pilot’s seat, you turn to look at Din and find him already facing you. You give him a soft smile, reaching over and giving him three light taps on the beskar on his thigh. It was something you always did; it always comforted him, even though he never really knew what you meant by it. “You alright?” He sounds genuinely worried, and you imagine if you could see his face his brows would be furrowed in the cutest expression.

“Definitely,” you reassure him, lifting your head to expose the cut a bit more. “It’s superficial, no harm done.” You drop your head to give him a bigger smile for added convincing. “What’s on your mind?” You know he’s concerned, but there’s something else underneath it. There always has been something else with you two. It lies beneath every conversation, making its way in through comfortable silences and soft touches. It pulls at your heartstrings at the oddest of moments, like when he’s cleaning up spit up with his cape or gazing out at the stars in hyperspace when he thinks you’re not there.

“I just don’t like to see you hurt, is all. But you handle yourself well, so it’s hard to worry for too long.” You hear his tone get lighter as he finishes his short explanation, giving you a slight chuckle when he’s finished. You return it easily.

“Please, you have nothing to worry about. As long as I have you as back up, I can do anything.” It started as a simple sentence, but the longer your silence sat the deeper the meaning became. Neither of you broke the spell, just stared at the general direction of each other’s faces and hoping you were making eye contact. It made you giggle, and when he cocked his head to the side, you just shook yours.

“Well, I wa-“ Din was interrupted by a beep on your wrist, indicating the child had been moving around. You turned on the speaker and gave him soft reassurances and cooed a small lullaby.

You didn’t hear anything after that, so you returned your attention back to him. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?” You pulled your sleeve over the watch to show you were giving your undivided attention.

The words that come out of his mouth are so quiet you hardly hear them. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

A smile breaks out on your face, tears unwillingly welling in your eyes. “Me too, Din. Me too. I-“ You stopped yourself immediately. What were you going to say? Maker, you could think of a dozen. I love you. I want to touch you. I want to sit in your lap and feel safe.

You’re glad to hear the child crying from the speaker on your wrist.

It had been two months since your almost-talk with your favorite Mando. Since then, Din has parked on the edge of a rainy planet, leaving you and the child for the past week. Easy enough job, watching the ship and the kid, albeit incredibly boring. By day two you were considering what card games the child would understand. By day five, you took to cleaning the entire ship.

Din came back on day eight, the day where you decided to fix up whatever you could laying around. Granted, you’re not a mechanic, but you’ve hot wired enough ships in your day to know a thing or two. It’s basic things at first, fixing loose wires and buttons, tightening bolts. After poking around for long enough, you think you find a decent enough project in fixing the nest of wiring in the cockpit, so you get to work.

It’s not much more than busy work, so when the child started crying you let him sit in your lap and help you work. After doing more harm than good for a solid half hour, you began to try to teach him the task at hand. He couldn’t grasp the entire idea of what you were doing, but he was doing a great job at handing you the wires you needed.

It was a while before you heard the ship make it’s familiar noises as Din came onboard. You heard the bounty pleading, the whoosh of the carbonite, but you didn’t hear his footsteps come closer so you continued your task. The child was beginning to have enough, you could tell he was getting tired, but knowing Din was here you wanted to keep him up as long as possible. Give Din more of a break after working so hard.

“Hand me the blue one,” you paused, watching the child’s little hand reach for the wrong wire. “You don’t know colors, do you?” Sighing, you moved his hand a little to the left to put him back on course. “That’s blue.” He made a noise in acknowledgment, handing you the wire to clip underneath the control panel.

You heard Din finally making his way up as the child handed you another wire. “Red! Thanks, buddy.” He gave you a small, sweet sound before turning to look at Din. You followed suit, looking up from your seat on the floor. The child wrestled his way out of your arms, waddling over to his father and lifting his arms. Din picked him up, holding him tight and rocking back and forth slightly to soothe him. It was the cutest thing you’d ever seen, and you don’t even think he realized he was doing it.

“How’d it go? You alright?” You asked Din as you rose from the floor, dusting your hands on your pants. Giving him a once over, you don’t see any blood leaking from anywhere, so that’s a good sign.

“I’m fine, he just wasn’t that easy to track down.” Din kept his eyes on the little one, watching as his eyes drifted open and shut. He was fighting sleep, but Din could always get him to knock out quick.

“If you want to go put him down and get dried off, I’ll get us going to our next destination.” You could hear the rain beating down on the Razor Crest, so there’s no telling how much water snuck it’s way between skin and beskar. He gave you a gentle nod, turning and making his way down to the refresher. The baby’s pram was next to his cot, so he could do everything in one place.

As the ship began its kick into hyperspace, you heard Din’s heavy footsteps make their way closer to you. Turning on auto-pilot, you jump over to the co-pilot seat to give Din his back. When he sits, he double checks the coordinates, and once he realizes you’ve done it all right, he slumps into his chair. You reach over, tapping three times on his thigh.

“I can take care of this if you want to sleep,” your voice was soft, imagining him dozing off like the child was earlier under that helmet.

He tensed, shaking his head without looking at you. “I’m not tired.” His fingers twitched, reaching for a lever and gripping it hard. Reading him was always incredibly difficult, but the more you’re around him the more he lets out his emotions in physical cues. He seems frustrated, restless, was the bounty that bad?

“Then what can I do to help? You seem... tense.” The sharp intake of air was audible through the helmet, so you followed your gut and placed your hand on his thigh.

“Cyar’ika...” his voice trails off, as tense as his body. He’d never called you anything but your name, especially not something this soft, and you found yourself moving to situate on your knees, in between Din’s. Looking up at him, you could see the beskar of his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. You ran your hands up and down his thighs, gazing up into—what you hoped were—his eyes.

“Is this okay?”

He cleared his throat, nodding his head. “More than.” After you hear those beautiful, consenting words, you immediately get to work. You reach for the waistband of everything you could get your hands around and pull. Luckily, Din helps you and before you know it his pants around his ankles and his cock is right at eye level. You take a moment, eyes widening once you finally realize where you’re trying to fit that thing. Din shifts in his seat with nervous energy, and you remember he can actually see you, so you continue. Soft kisses up and down his thighs, the occasional bite soothed with your tongue, all while pumping him with your spit slicked hand. Making your way back up his thighs, you kiss up his balls and shaft, giving the tip a kitten lick before you take him in your mouth. The groan that emanates from the helmet drives you further, doing your best to get used to his size. You moan when he finally hits the back of your throat, and Din grabs your hair with a growl.

“I need—I want...” Din stops, panting, desperately trying to pull you off his dick by your hair. You comply, jerking him softly while looking up at him.

“Tell me what you want and it’s yours. Don’t hold back.” Your voice comes out raspier than normal, and you feel Din’s cock twitch in your palm.

“I need to fuck you.” You could feel his need even through the vocoder, so you let go of his cock and—after removing your clothing from the waist down, wearing nothing but a tunic—moved to sit on his lap. Din grabbed you by your hips, pulling you close and hovering over right where he wanted to. Slowly, fingertips digging deliciously into your skin, he guides you onto the tip of his cock. You share a moan as he stretches you, slowly but surely, as you feel like you’re going to split in half.

“Kriff, Din,” you whine, finally seating your hips against his. He runs his gloved hands up and down your sides in an attempt to soothe before resuming their iron grip on your hips. “You’re huge.” You smile when you hear a deep, gritty chuckle through his helmet, and once you feel his guiding pressure on your hips, you finally begin moving.

It’s slow at first; your hands doing all the touching as you got used to one another’s bodies. As Din got more comfortable, he began thrusting into you, taking over your pace and morphing it into something faster, yet equally close. He pulls you so close your chest is tight against his, your head moving to bury itself in his neck. As his pace grew, your hands gripped onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

It was the best sensation you’d ever felt in your life. The stretch was just enough for an extra sense of pleasure, and the way he kept hitting your g-spot on the way out had you seeing stars. You press your lips against the tiniest bit of skin you can find, your fingers desperately trying to find purchase on his shoulders.

“Maker, Din, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for—it sounded like your voice came from far away, like it wasn’t you. He felt so good and strong and sturdy and his soft grunts and groans were filling your ears solely to heighten your pleasure. Everything about him made you want to never let go, keep him just like this forever.

“You going to cum for me, cyar’ika?” His tone is playful as his thrusts get rougher and out of rhythm. You know you won’t last long and neither will he.

“Need it, Din. Please.” Your sobs of pleasure are almost drowned out by the beskar on his shoulder, but he hears you—he always does. His left hand leaves your hip and trails down to where the two of you meet. He traces his fingers over your pussy, and where it meets his cock, then moves to your clit and begins his wonderful torture.

You’re so close, and he’s so good, rubbing your clit just right while his cock splits you open. You hear him breathe your name from under the helmet, followed by a string of curses you can’t begin to comprehend, and you let go, squeezing tight around him as your thighs shake. Din thrusts once, twice more before he’s buried as deep as he possibly can be and comes inside of you. The warmth inside of you makes you shiver with the contrast of the coldness of the cockpit.

The both of you are out of breath, holding onto each other tightly as you try to regain your bearings. His hands reach around you, encompassing your body in a hug as he runs his hands up and down your back. Upon realizing your legs are still shaking, he moves his soothing motions to your thighs.

“You’re amazing.” Mumbling into his neck, you grab at one of his hands and hold on for dear life. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Did I wear you out that well?” Despite the vocoder, you could hear the smile in Din’s voice. You share a laugh, and upon mellowing out, you give his hand three little squeezes. “Alright, cyar’ika, just a little bit longer.”

His gaze stays on the streams of stars as he holds your hand, rubs your back, and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. A little bit longer with you could never hurt.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

lately i feel taehyung is a straight man and his vibez is much more masculinity i mean not to mention taehyung straightly said to jimin he like him most and no offense for me it's just assurance about something etc and i don't feel like in romantic way but much more because he is best friend for life. i mean before you can assume he is kind of gay but lately i feel like he's more focus on masculine way and much more straight man.

Admin 1: Let’s do a little exercise which I think will help us answer this question, as well as showcase why reading it annoyed me so much, especially as queer person myself. Okay, here are nine different men, all of them athletes (why did I pick them? Because idols are basically just as athletic as them and chances of you knowing all nine are low), and now please try to guess which of them (if any) are gay/queer:

…

Do you have your guesses?

…

Okay, as example, if you guessed only the one first row second from the left then, well, you are partially correct. That man is Johnny Weir, former American figure skater, who is, in fact, gay, yes. But you are wrong in saying that out of all the men in those pictures he’s the only one who is queer. Because all of them are. You can read more about them here if you’re interested.

What does this tell us? Easy. The manner in which someone presents themselves (or the vibe, whatever that’s even supposed to mean, that they give off/give you), traditionally masculine, feminine, more androgynous, or anywhere else on the spectrum, has no correlation whatsoever with their sexuality. A gay man can dress in a way that is traditionally seen as more feminine and that’s fine. He can dress and look more typically masculine, and that is fine as well. He can dress and look however he likes and that doesn’t make him any less or more gay, or any less or more valid.

The main thing I would like for you to take away from this answer is this: please do not buy into stereotypical, basically fetishizing, portrayals and assumptions of what constitutes a “gay man” visually and behavior wise. There is no checklist full of boxes a queer man, or any queer person for that matter, needs to fulfil in order to be queer and valid in their queerness. There is no unified look a gay man has to showcase in order to be gay. It’s the 21st century, the year 2021, can we leave finally lay these things to rest?

As for Tae, if you want to know my thoughts about BTS and the LGBT community, I have an entire post about it which you can read here if that’s something that interests you. If we look at how Tae currently looks like, which you’ve defined as more “masculine” (and therefore straight), I will agree that he has gained muscles, if that is what you think is a necessary checkbox for masculinity, but really, all that really tells us is that Tae is healthy, that he looks great, handsome as ever, and that he is an idol of whom it is expected and required to be in a good physical shape, especially with comeback being quite literally just three days away which means a lot of performances, dancing, and hard Bangtan choreographies.

Your taste in fashion and how you feel most comfortable with your body looking like has no direct correlation with your sexuality, and neither does it with Tae’s.

Lastly, how is Tae saying he likes Jimin most on national TV somehow proof of him being straight? What else was he supposed to say? What would he have to say for you to not question his bond with Jimin? Is there a possibility we’re wrong and they’re just platonic, of course, but at the same time, looking at how Jimin said that Tae is a honest person, how Tae basically wears his heart on his sleeve, and how he’s written a song all about falling in love with his best friend, whom we know is Jimin, and we know Tae writes songs based on his own feelings and experiences, I do have a hard time believing that we are wrong. But, of course, we won’t know for sure until Tae or Jimin, or both, tell us themselves.

You are free to believe whatever you like but at least don’t project gender and LGBT stereotypes (most of which have been created and are perpetuated by straight people) onto Tae, and the other members for that matter. Or any queer person really.

Admin 2: I admit that after what I’ve recently observed on various sns platforms, no question will surprise me anymore. In fact, I'm sure I know where this question came from.

The most annoying thing is that despite so many "steps and demonstrations" on BTS' part, there is still an army trying to put people into individual boxes and number those boxes and give them names.

Do any of us have our sexualities written out on our foreheads? Can you see if we are sexually interested in women, men, or anyone else? And how can you know that?

I think a lot of people know Adam Rippon, for example, who is a former American figure skater and Olympic team bronze medalist. Yes, Adam is gay and has a very handsome partner, fiancé actually, who looks like a young god. He's fit, look at his photos on Instagram, Jussi goes to the gym, runs and is even in the process of builds a house himself, like a "real man", a "typical" man ... but he's gay!

If you look at this example, you can clearly see that there are no stereotypes that would indisputably define the appearance of an LGBTQ+ person! Indeed, in the last century, attempts have been made to give "gay" people the weird appearance of only ever being feminized man who are always sassy and the side kick in movies/shows, the stereotypical "gay best friend". It the past century it was designed as such to portray queer people, and especially gay men, in undesirable ways, as jokes and as something "bad", but I thought we grew out of it a long time ago as modern and tolerant people.

Kim Taehyung has to practice and exercise as a member of BTS. That’s a fact. To meet the requirements of their choreographies, whether you like it or not, you must be in an Olympic physical form. Not just him, the entire team must basically be at a near peak physical condition and health. Tae has to exercise, he has to take care of himself, and he has to look great. I have to admit, I've noticed that "gay" men pay more attention to their looks than a normal, unshaven straight guy! (I'm basing this on a joke Adam Rippon once made where he apologized to his followers for looking like an "unshaved straight guy" after he'd just woken up)

What do I mean by that? I want to express the fact that the way you look and take care of your appearance and physical condition are not an indicator of sexuality!

As for the "I like you the most" statement, I'll admit that I've observed many people in many ways trying to use this statement to twist it into whatever those people wanted it to be, instead of taking it for what it actually was, especially since it appears to be something like a thorn in the sides of those who ship other ML pairings.

I'll be rather blunt here now, instead of beating around the bush.

I think this whole question is another attempt at ripping down the Vmin sails and belittling their bond and its possible implications once again.

If we remember how the scene played out, remember Jimin's reactions, his nervousness, how flustered he was, said that things are getting dangerous, and the fact that Taehyung's letter was only for Jimin's eyes. Is that really how "bros" behave? Just a couples of besties?

I doubt that normal best buddies on national TV would feel the need to write mystery letters just for a friend's eyes and tell each other that they like him the most? I'll say more, "boyfriends" don't force their lover to admit that he is copying him in his dance style, only friends do.

It is strange that this "copy" situation was "perceived" as highly romantic, and yet Taehyung's words to Jimin were relegated to "best friends only, nothing else".

However, it doesn't change the fact that Taehyung said what he said, he wrote 95z is love and Jimin confessed that he would love to spend his life with his lovely Taehyungie. Do "only best friends" (best friends that are straight) behave like this?

[toplinetommy]

You Bring the Moon and Stars to Me (Part One) - Tyson Jost

gif by @pavszacha​

Synopsis: A Soulmate!AU where your soulmark only appears once you fall in love with your soulmate

Word Count: 3.5k

series playlist

January 2017 – University of North Dakota

It was your senior year at NoDak, and you couldn’t believe that you had somehow made it through nearly four years of school already. You of course had the help from your roommates who doubled as your best friends, and the hockey team to keep you sane from everything that comes with being a student studying purchasing management. If you were told freshman year you would be buddy-buddy with any D1 sports team, you would’ve laughed.

That’s kind of how you ended up where you were today: a student-athlete tutor. You were a marketing major, loving it so much and needing some extra money, you had decided to tutor the first level econ and marketing classes when you were a second-semester sophomore.

You were in the middle of tutoring a few of the guys that were all enrolled in Intro to Economics when a guy you had never seen came barreling in the room.

“Hey, Boes, do you know when the bus leaves tomorrow? I didn’t write it down and no one sent it in the group chat.” The curly headed brunette spoke. You figured he was on the team with what he said combined with the green UND hockey shirt he wore.

“Uhh 10:30, and don’t be late you saw what happened to Cam last week.” The blonde in front of you chirped. The brunette scoffed as he rolled his eyes, exiting the room just as quickly as he entered.

“Who was that?” you ask the guys surrounding you, bringing your Yeti to your lips for a sip of water.

“Why, you think he’s cute?” Brock smirked, causing both Tucker and Andrew to laugh. He was one of the guys you had been tutoring since freshman year, so you had a closer bond to him then some of the other guys on the team.

His chirp had you choking on the last bit of water in your mouth, “What! I can’t just ask who a guy I’ve never seen before is?”

“Name’s Tyson, he’s a freshman from Canada.” You nodded, noticing the slight accent he had when he spoke earlier. “I think he’s only here for the year though, he was a top 10 pick in the  draft.”

At that, the boys all went back to taking their notes and working on their case studies as the new boy’s face stuck in your mind for a few more minutes.

“By the way, are you coming to our next home game? It’s next Friday.” Tucker said as he put his laptop into his backpack. “I’ll even let you wear my alternate jersey.”

You laughed at this, the boys always making jokes on who’s jersey you got to wear whenever you went to games. “Only if you finish your econ stuff before then.” He agrees, and you and the boys all make your way out of the common room.

-

A knock on your front door startles you as you eat your sandwich, and before you can get up to go see who it is, Tucker is walking into your apartment, green sweater in hand.

“Okay, so I might not have washed my jerseys still, so here’s a different one.” He admits, tossing the sweater in your general direction. You unfold the jersey seeing the number 17 stitched onto the sleeves and the name Jost on the back.

“Tuck, I literally have no idea who’s jersey this is?”

“Oh! It’s Josty’s, the freshman. We’re also playing a prank on all the new guys tonight so we stole all of their green jerseys so they think they're missing.” The brunette in front of you laughs to himself. You agree to wear it, only because you don’t really have anything else to wear and you’d thought entertaining this so-called prank would do no harm.

It’s a few hours later and the mystery-man’s jersey looks like it was made to fit you with how it drapes over your shoulders. You’re sitting with two of your roommates that you had to drag along as well as one of their boyfriend’s. One of the many perks about going to a school like North Dakota was that there was one sport everyone bonded over: ice hockey.

Warmups had just started and you finally spot #17 on the ice and that’s when it hits you. Jost. Tyson Jost. Number 17. The freshman, the guy that you had met for the first time just a few days prior. The guy that you thought was kind of cute. No scratch that, not kind of, but definitely cute.

“Dude, Allison,” You nudge your roommates shoulder. “I don’t think the team is playing a prank on the freshies, I think Tuck is playing a prank on me.”

Allison quirks her eyebrows in confusion, urging you to keep talking. “If they were gonna steal their jerseys why would they hand them out to people and not just hide them?” You groan, and Allison doesn’t think too much of it, not knowing the ins and outs of the team like you do.

The game ends with a win, the arena shaking with excitement. You knew the boys would be excited with the win, especially coming after a tough loss earlier in the week.

You and your friends make your way back home and you text the group chat you’re in with the guys you tutor letting them know they played great.

Dumb Jocks + 1 Y/N: great game guys 🤩 *Brock loved the message* Andrew: thanks y/n! Andrew: also party at the house 10pm Y/N: might drag the roomies and make an appearance. and tuck, im ripping you a new one when i see you Tucky: just for that i decided its going to be a jersey party 😈 *Brock laughed at the message*

It’s two hours later when you walk through the front door of the NoDak hockey house. You were probably one of the handful of people there that actually spend time there both sober and when the sun is shining. This gives you much more confidence navigating your way through to the back of the living room, finding the small group of guys you actually know on the team.

The group consisting of Tucker, Andrew, Brock, and Johnny, cheers as you approach them. You walk straight up to Tucker, giving him a hard clap on the shoulder to say hi to him. “Hey, Tucky, you gotta real nice jersey on you there.” You chirp, gesturing to his Drew Doughty jersey. “It’s almost like you play hockey or something.”

Tucker shakes your hand that’s still resting on his shoulder off and points it back towards you. “I think the real story here, bud, is the jersey you’re rocking tonight.” You hadn’t bothered changing out of the green sweater between the game and now, opting to show school spirit. Besides, how often did you get to wear a player’s jersey, right?

You roll your eyes as the other boys look to see the commotion between you and Tucker. The boys snicker at the sight of you two upon seeing the green #17 sweater still adorning your body.

“Tucky, I didn’t know you actually got her to wear it!” Brock emphasized, going into to dap up his teammate. Your head snapped towards the blonde, shooting him, as well as the other boys all a glare.

“Anyways, I’m here to get drunk and win some flip cup, not be patronized by a bunch of dumb jocks.” You joke, looking over your shoulder to see where your other friends went. You say your goodbyes, letting them know you’ll see them around throughout the night.

You’re standing near the staircase with your friends, about halfway done with your third drink when the freshman brunette walks up to your group.

“So that’s where my alternate jersey went, eh?”

You scoffed into your cup, your friends laughing at the confrontation. “Yeah, I guess so.”

An awkward silence falls over your small group, the unintended snarkiness of your tone being felt by everyone. Your few friends leave the two of you, mentioning that they needed refills.

“Sorry about the jersey. I can wash it tomorrow and bring it the next time I tutor the guys.”

Tyson leans against the wall across from you, “It’s no problem. I don’t think we wear them again until next month anyways.”

Silence falls between the two of you again, the one common denominator between the two of you being the jersey hanging over your shoulders.

“So, uh, what do you tutor the guys in?” Tyson pipes up, hiding his expression behind the Bud Light in his hand, bringing it to his lips for a swig.

“Mainly econ, but I help some of the guys in specific classes depending on their major. Like, Johnny and Tucker, for example. They’re both in finance and econ, and I’ve taken a lot of those classes.”

“You’re an econ major then?”

“Oh, no,” you laugh. “My minor is econ, but I’m a marketing major. What about you? Have you decided on a major yet?”

The question pulls a laugh out of Tyson, confusing you. “Yeah, I’m pre-athletic training, but I don’t see myself finishing that out.”

You swallow the rest of your drink and decide to chirp him a bit, “What? Too big of some hockey hot-shot to get a degree?”

That comment elicits another laugh from the Canadian in front of you, and that’s when you decide you could definitely get used to hearing that sound.

He gets ready to answer when Tucker yells at the both of you from the kitchen, “Josty! y/n! We’re about to start flip cup, let’s go!”

Tyson chugs the rest of his beer before setting it on a nearby table and grabbing another one from the case in the fridge. He takes a spot across from you on the other side of the table as you guys jump into the game.

As the games continue, your level of sobriety starts to deteriorate and a light dizziness falls over your body. The current game of flip cup being played is elimination style and your team had lost, the other team electing to have you kicked off your team.

You move to the side, leaning against the kitchen counter to continue watching the game unfold in front of you. You pulled out your phone, trying to figure out where some of your group had disappeared to, seeing that one of them had already left to go hookup with one of her usual hookups.

You start to type back to her, letting her know that you’ll text her when you’re home when you feel a presence next to you. Turning your head to the side you see Tyson reappearing next to you.

He notices the mix of drunkness and tiredness on your face, asking if you were all good. You nod your head, going to scratch the discomfort you feel at the back of your left elbow. “I think I’m getting ready to go home soon, just trying to make sure my friends and I all leave at the same time.”

Tyson nods, tight-lipped, and offers to help you find them. As you walk around the house gathering your friends, the discomfort on your elbow only grows.

April 2017 – University of North Dakota

You’re standing in your apartment, waiting around on Tucker and Brock to come pick you up before the banquet, staring yourself down in the mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door. You get dressed up often, but never quite this dressed up and your nerves are getting the best of you. You don’t think anything can prepare yourself for the dinner you’re about to go to: the North Dakota men’s hockey senior banquet.

As you put your earrings in, you hear a knock on the front door and the boys shouting that they were here. You yell back that you were coming, heading to the kitchen to grab your flask and purse.

“You excited for your first hockey banquet?” Tucker yelled into the kitchen. You had known him for the past two years, regularly tutoring him, and over the course of those years he had somehow become one of your best friends.

Walking out into the living room, where the two boys were sitting, you let them know that you were excited and ready to go.

“Damn, y/n, didn’t know you were such a rocket.” Brock whistles. You roll your eyes at them, but specifically him, and gesture towards the door.

You sit with Tucker and some of the other guys you know from tutoring, and get through dinner barely speaking a word due to all of the speeches being made. The dinner was good, it was a nice break from your cooking and the fast-food you were used to eating on a regular basis.

You got more involved in the conversations as the seniors got to make speeches, asking Tucker what some of the inside jokes and chirps were all about. Lots of laughter and snuck-in alcohol later, the boys and their dates were ready for their bar crawl.

Your large group walks into to the first bar, the boys going straight up to the bar to get drinks as no-one really pregamed. The group ends up all back together for the first bit, taking over one of the front corners of the balcony that overlooks the rest of the bar. You guys were clearly over dressed for the dive bar located right off of campus with all the guys in suits and ties and the girls in dresses and heels, whereas everyone else was dressed for the cold April weather.

Tucker finally makes his way back to you, two drinks in his hand, as he hands one over to you. You thank him loudly and quickly jump into conversation.

“You sad I’m leaving you guys soon?” You yell, with a wide smile on your face. Tucker, Andrew, Brock and Johnny all laugh at you. You were the oldest of the group, as everyone else was either a junior or younger.

“I’ll be sad not being here, but I won’t be sad that I’m finally done with school.” Brock admits, to which he earns a few eye rolls from the other guys. Both Andrew and Johnny weren’t really on a clear cut path to the NHL, instead just playing for the fun of it at this level.

The conversations start to slow down in the group as the music gets louder and more drinks are consumed. Tucker and Brock get pulled away by some of the other guys for a little bit, leaving you alone with some of the girls as well as Andrew and Johnny.

You’re in the middle of a story being told when you hear Brock and Tucker’s booming laughter not too far away from you. When you turn to look at them, they’re standing with Tyson, who looks as if he’s speaking into both of their ears so they can hear him properly. Tucker is grasping his chest as he spots you looking at him, causing him to only laugh harder.

A light flush falls on your cheeks, confused as to why the sight of you makes him laugh more. You put your straw in your mouth, biting down on it as a nervous habit, and look down at your dress making sure nothing was spilled on you.

When you look up again, Tucker is no longer where he was standing and his voice startles you as he appears next to you. “You will never believe what just happened,” he starts, a hint of laughter still laced in his tone. “Tyson just asked me if we were together.”

The accusation makes you laugh, too, the both of you starting to lose your breath at the crazy thought. The both of you had become such good friends over the past 18 months that he was more like a brother than anything else.

The laughter dies down, and a realization hits you. “Why the fuck did he want to know if we’re dating?”

“I think the kid thinks you’re cute.” Tucker smirks, raising his eyebrows before downing the rest of his drink.

Your face flushes again, and as you finally go to respond to the statement you see the culprit of the previous conversation heading your way. Turning to your friend for an escape, you see that he has made himself seemingly disappear into the crowd. By the time you spot the tall brunette he’s out on the dancefloor talking to some girl.

You turn back around, trying to find someone new to start a conversation with when there’s a tap on your shoulder. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Tyson finally made his way over to you.

In light of the new information Tucker has given you, you sheepishly greet the freshman in front of you. His just as shy response gives you a little boost of confidence and you decide to mess with him a little. “Aren’t you a little too young to get into American bars?”

“Perks of my status, I guess.” He shrugs with a hint of cockiness in his tone, a new found confidence showing on his face.

“Oh, the big-shot Canadian hockey player status?”

He laughs pointedly “that’s the one.”

You were trying to figure out how to articulate your words about what he was laughing about with Tucker earlier in the night, when a wet substance pours down your back. Your jaw drops open, shoulders shrugging in both shock and discomfort. The back of your light blue dress is completely and noticeably soaking wet.

Tyson watches everything unfold in front of him. He watches your bright eyes and smiling cheeks do a complete 180 into a scowl. You whip around to whoever spilled their drink on you, ready to give them a piece of your mind. As you open your mouth, getting ready to tell the guy off that he hadn't noticed what he had just done, a large hand wraps around your stomach pulling you back.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. He’s probably plastered and didn’t mean to spill.” Tyson assures lowly into your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand straight up. The hand not holding your drink goes to hold where Tyson’s hand is placed on your stomach, using his warmth to bring you back down to earth.

You take a deep breath and try to swallow your embarrassment before turning back towards him. You rest wrap your hands around his biceps as he continues to rest his free hand on the small of your back. Looking back up at him only makes you feel embarrassed again, realizing he’s touching the gross substance that was dumped all over you.

“I want to leave.” You let out in a whisper.

“You sure? We can find the other guys and stay if you want and try to have a good rest of the night. I don’t think anyone will care.” Tyson says, caution laced in his soft tone.

Shutting your eyes and tightening your grip on him, you continue, “I care and I just want to go home and shower.” You turn out of his grip for a moment to try and spot either Tucker or Brock in the crowd. You find them rather quickly, both with girls, causing you to sign heavily. “I’m going to call an Uber.”

You start to walk away towards the door but Tyson catches up to you quickly. Grabbing your hand he pulls you back into him slightly. “I had two beers, y/n, I can drive you back.”

You nod your head and thank him for the offer, leading him out of the bar and towards the parking lot. You follow him to his car and as you get to your door, he opens it for you. You thank him and he runs over to the driver’s side, jumps into the driver’s seat, starts the car, and turns the radio down.

His car finally pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, and you lift your head from the car window to turn to him. “Thank you for driving me, I really appreciate it. Sorry you had to miss out on the senior bar crawl for this.”

“It’s no problem, at all. I would’ve wanted to leave under those circumstances, too.” He admits. You give him an awkward tight lipped smile to say goodbye as you hop out of the car. As you open your front door you turn back to wave at him, yelling another thank you.

When you’re in the shower a little while later, you can’t seem to shake the comfort you felt when he pulled you away from the guy that had spilled his drink on you. Smiling to yourself, you turn the water off, dry off and put lotion on your elbows noticing how dry and itchy they both were towards the end of the night.

[adhdeancas]

Sunset Sound: Honey Bee

Chapter 17 is available to read on AO3 too :) 

trigger warning: panic attack/anxiety attack

Dawn has not quite hit when Dean is suddenly blinded by a light. “Son of a- what the fuck?” They’re awake before they can notice, blind fear running in their veins. Dean scrambles for his keys, stomps Baby into drive, and they’re 0 to 80 in seconds. 

The spotlight hits him straight in the corneas again and he swerves and almost runs into a fence lining the road. Cas jumps back into the front seat, tugs the wheel over and they crash through the barbed wire. “Cas, what the hell?”

“We need away from the road!!” Cas explains, holding a hand up to try to fend off the horrible glare. The spotlight fades as they hit forest, Dean swearing left and right as he guides Baby through tight swaths of tree trunks. They abandon her once it gets too much and make a run for it. The spotlight can’t keep up; it pans across trying to find Dean’s plaid in the overgrowth or Cas’s trench coat, but Cas grabs Dean and throws them both into a bush before it can. Dean spits out a leaf and glares at him. “You’re welcome.” Cas mutters back, except it’s breathless, because for some reason beyond the physical exertion, Cas can’t breathe. It’s then that he realizes he’d left the walkie talkie, their only connection to their friends, in the backseat of the car.

He takes in big gulps of air but it doesn’t seem to matter, or maybe those gulps of air do too much, because it feels like his head is floating. He squeezes his eyes shut and just holds onto Dean; he needs to know that he’s still there but the panic in his skull finds the image of him too much.

“Cas?” Dean whispers, and it sounds far off. “Cas.” Cas can feel Dean’s grip on his arms, pulling at his coat sleeves like he’s trying to reel him back in. “You okay? What’s going on?”

Cas shakes his head then nods. “I’m fine, I just- am having trouble-” he takes another gulp of air because he keeps running out, and his confusion mounts. Is this what running normally feels like, to humans? Is it usually so uncomfortable and debilitating? Perhaps his vessel is just woefully - as Dean would say - flabby. Out of shape. 

“Breathing?” Dean gathers from Cas’s exaggerated gasps. The fear in his own chest calms down a little bit now he knows what’s happening. “Cas, it’s alright, look at me,” He puts a hand on his cheek, trying to convince Cas to open his eyes. “Cas, trust me,”

Cas finally does, of course. He takes a breath in and opens his eyes, and it’s a mixture of stunning adrenaline and comfort that goes through his body when he realizes he and Dean are sitting almost on top of each other within the poking branches of the bush. Dean pushes a stick out of his way so Cas can see his eyes clearly. “What’s happening?”

“You’re having a panic attack, doofus,” Dean smiles at him with his best bedside manner. “It’s fine, happens to me all the time. Just-” He grabs hold of Cas’s hand and raises it so Cas can see. “Up means breathe in, down means breathe out.”

“But what if-” Cas throws a glance up, focused completely on the wrath of heaven that could descend upon them at any moment. 

“Since when are we scared of a couple dicks with wings? We’ll be fine. C’mon, have I ever let you down?”

Confidence leaks back into Cas at the reassurance, and a glint reaches his eyes as he says, “Well…”

Dean mimes out a sarcastic laugh and holds their hands up again. “Alright, asshole, breathe,” He lifts their hands slowly, Cas’s breath growing past what he’s comfortable with, then lets them down even slower. Over and over again until it’s all Cas is thinking about, and he knows his heartbeat has stopped hammering so fast against his ribs. It’s still there, the panic still bothers him, but it’s manageable, which he guesses is what Dean is going for. He nods at Dean in thanks.

“I’m okay. We can go.” Dean ignores him to do three more breaths, which Cas grudgingly follows. Then he highers himself into a crouch, still holding Cas’s hand.

Dean pulls him back onto the run and they sprint until they see a cabin in the distance. They make eye contact and agree; they can take whoever owns the cabin, if they need to. It’s Cas who pounds on the door and Dean who peeks in the window, which means he only looks after the owner answers the door and Cas has grabbed him by the throat. 

“Corbett?” 

Cas lets him go almost immediately, but the poor boy’s eyes stay wide. “Uh-D- Dean?” Dean steps up and puts a hand on Cas’s arm, pulling him back to try and make Corbett a little less on edge. It works a little bit; the nervous man withdraws slightly and rubs at his neck. “Dean… Winchester, right?” 

“Yeah,” Dean nods encouragingly and steps in front to ease his way in the cabin. Cas has a hand on his back trying to push him in faster, still aware of heaven’s spotlights looking out for them. “Been a while, buddy. Mind if we-?” He pats Corbett on the shoulder as he just stands there and stutters and Cas and Dean both get to work drawing warding on the walls. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Sigils, to keep the angels off your back,” Dean explains quickly, glancing at the guy’s bewildered expression. “Dude, what are you wearing?” 

Corbett looks down, offended, and puts his hands on his hips. “A robe- I didn’t expect visitors!” The robe is baby blue and it stops above his knees, and Dean raises an eyebrow at it. “Hey!” He throws his hands up. “Listen, I’ll change and all, but what are you doing here? And who is he?” 

“Cas. He’s- well, you can trust him.” 

“...why do I need to trust anyone?” Corbett says suspiciously. He walks over to his bedroom and reemerges wearing actual clothes, not comforted by Dean’s silence. “Do you guys want something to drink- water, coffee?” His politeness takes over by instinct, and he gestures his guests to his table. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

“Coffee would be great.” Corbett looks over at Cas and he nods the same. “Uh, we got angels on our trail.” 

“And that’s… a bad thing?” 

“I’m not on their good list.” Now it’s Corbett’s turn to raise an eyebrow from the coffee maker. Dean smiles awkwardly. To this poor guy, being on an angel’s shitlist probably isn’t a ringing character endorsement. 

“It’s a long story; promise we’ll tell you some other time. But, uh, you mind if we lay low here for a while?”

Corbett shrugs, not sure he has much of a choice, but he plops down coffees in front of the three of them anyway. “Looks like we have some time then. But, um, Dean… how’s Ed?” The kid looks at Dean hopefully, flashing some puppy-dog eyes that even Sam would be jealous of. Dean looks at Cas for help, but of course Cas has no freaking clue what Dean’s conflicted about. He looks back at him without a care in the fucking world beyond burning his tongue on his coffee.

“He’s good. I mean, not- he’s- he was sad- he mourned you and all, if that’s what you’re asking.” The tips of Dean’s ears turn red and he changes the subject before he can shove his foot in his mouth. Last time Corbett talked to Ed, Ed was pretending to be in love with him. The key word being pretending. “Anyway, so, hate to break it to you but heaven sucks.” 

Cas steps in then, helps soften the blow and explains with more eloquence than Dean could. Corbett takes the news surprisingly well, something about always figuring God was a dick (yeah, growing up gay in the Midwest will do that to you), although the fact that Cas was/is an angel threw him for a loop. 

“So you don’t have, like, wings or anything?”

“I did. I do.” Cas frowns down at the table. After losing all but all of his grace, his wings are but a mangled decoration for him now. Especially being in heaven, not being able to fly around stings, it feels like he is moving in slow motion sometimes. Dean’s hand appears over the table and taps his, his fingers soft and consoling. He pulls back slowly and Cas wishes he would keep touching him. “I can’t fly now, not without my powers.” 

“That sucks.” 

“Yeah.” Cas smiles up at Corbett. The simple openness of this man is making Cas instantly fond of him. It’s a refreshing change of pace from hunters and ethereal creatures’ secretive nature. “It was worth it, though. I’m alive.” 

“... you’re in heaven.” 

Dean snorts, and Cas nods, amused. “I’m not here… naturally. Given the ability, I believe I would be able to traverse back to the mortal realm and live as… well, as a human.” He looks up and meets Dean’s eyes, who looks shaken by the information. 

Cas could go back and live on Earth as just a regular old human, and Dean… Dean’s dead. Dean’s dead at 41 and that’s that. The thought makes his heart sink like a rock in his chest. 

“Well,” Dean stands up and slaps a hand on the table, breaking the quiet of the cabin. “We should probably get going.”

“Wait.” Corbett stands too and grabs Dean’s arm, an action far more forward than he’s used to. “Dean, you gotta… please, tell me. What aren’t you telling me about Ed?” 

Dean sighs, looking around the cabin for a possible exit. His eyes land on a stupid framed photo of Corbett and Ed, taken like a selfie before front-facing cameras existed. His stomach twists in a knot. How is he supposed to ruin this guy’s happiness? He thinks Ed is gonna show up someday and they’re gonna be happy and together and gay in a dumb little gay paradise.

“Please. Dean, the truth.” 

The knot in his stomach twists further and Dean winces. He’s gotta tell him. Better that than the guy getting his heart ripped out when Ed finally shows up and doesn’t want him. He swallows and looks up at Cas, who’s frowning at him in confusion. Dean looks away. Better to look at Corbett. “Uh, listen, Corbett… Ed… he’s not in love with you.” 

Corbett blinks. “Wha- no, he- he said-” 

“Yeah, he lied,” Dean sighs and sits back down heavily. “Sorry dude, but…” He shakes his head. Corbett shakes his right back.

“No, he said he loved me.” 

“I know what he said!” It bursts out of Dean before he can stop it, louder than he meant. He pauses and clears his throat, and the whole cabin is silent. 

Cas puts a hand on Corbett’s shoulder. “I’m sure he meant what he said, in a way.” he says, talking out of his ass. He has no way of knowing what the situation was, but Corbett talks about this Ed man like they were close, friends, pals. 

Corbett keeps his eyes fixed on Dean. Dean sighs and turns his head, looking at the young man again. “Listen, I’m sorry,” But he can’t get another word out before Corbett starts crying. He puts his head in his hands and sobs, and Dean and Cas look at each other helplessly. Cas pats his shoulder, but he shrugs it off. Finally Dean heaves himself up and squats down next to Corbett. He tugs on his hands gently, pulling them away from his face, and Cas imagines this is how Dean dealt with it when Sam cried as a child. “Corbett, man… Ed loved you, just not… listen.” He stops and Cas can practically hear the ‘shit’ in his head as he searches for the right words. “Ed loved you enough to tell you he loved you, just so you’d be able to move on. To save you.” his voice is steadier now, quiet and firm. Cas stills, just listening. “And maybe he doesn’t want to come up here and shack up and watch Desperate Housewives, but,”

Cas watches Dean’s train of thought trail away as he catches his eye. He holds his gaze, and Dean looks heartbroken. He looks insecure. He looks like he did that night in the barn, when Cas recognized his self-loathing without a second thought. Now, the expression causes Cas physical pain, and he wants to reach out and soothe him. Instead, he just stares as Dean continues talking without taking his eyes off him. 

“I mean, he probably still wants to, y’know, have a beer or something. And that’s shitty, it’s-  disappointing as fuck but… you gotta respect that.” He clears his throat and finally looks down. “Everything’s shitty right now.”

“Everything’s shitty.” Corbett agrees, sniffing. He was too lost in his own misery to notice the considerable tension in the room. Cas can’t get the image of Dean’s face out of his head, his words playing like a broken tape-deck over and over.

The rest of the goodbyes are said through a haze of Cas’s thoughts screaming at him, and it isn’t until they get back to the car, fuzzy small talk half-remembered, that Cas gets up the courage to say something. Still, he waits minutes into the car ride, because he doesn’t want to seem like he has been waiting to get into the car. The logic makes no sense but it controls him, and it makes his voice quaver when he finally says, “Dean?” 

“Yeah,” Dean smacks his lips and glances at him once, fingers tapping the wheel to the beat of the radio. 

“Why did you want me?” 

Dean furrows his eyebrows and looks at Cas like he doesn’t understand the question. “Why did I…?”

“Why did you bring me- to go with you to the Garden.” Cas clarifies. Helpfully. Almost confidently, if he’s being generous with himself. 

Dean gives him an incredulous glance. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t have my powers, Dean. There are angels you could have brought with you that are far more powerful. Or, if you wanted to attract less attention, there are plenty of hunters who could slip under the radar, who are more skilled in combat.” Cas tries not to let his self-doubt seep into the words. He’s not sure if it works, because Dean shifts uncomfortably in his seat. 

“I dunno, because I didn’t want to bring those other guys,” he says defensively.

“Dean,” Cas pushes, insistent. His heart is speeding up in his chest and he feels like he might explode if he keeps going, but he has to. His momentum is already started, and the look in Dean’s eyes as he’d talked to Corbett is giving him strength. 

“What!” Dean sounds annoyed now, but it’s just more defense. He’s starting to feel like he’s being cornered into doing something terrible, like telling the truth.

“Dean.”

“Because I like you?” 

It’s even and it’s uncertain and it’s vulnerable. Dean is scared as hell, but then he looks at Cas and he gets terrified. A flicker of hurt passes across Cas’s face, and it’s so severe even Dean can’t miss it. 

Cas feels like a child. He feels like he’s being spoken to like a child. He had expected… but that was too much. Instead of simplicity and vulnerability, he heard patronization. “You don’t need to do that Dean.”

“Do what? I do like you, man. We’re- friends. Didn’t think I needed to spell that out for you.” Dean laughs nervously, completely un-fucking-aware of what is going on right now. 

Cas looks at his lap. “Claire has explained to me what ‘friendzone’ means, and I assure you, it’s unnecessary. It always has been.” Feeling is excruciating.

Dean sputters. He had not expected the word “friendzone” to come out of Cas’s mouth like… ever. “I don’t- I haven’t-”

“You’ve called me your brother multiple times.” Humiliation burns across Cas’s face. 

“No, no, I don’t mean it like- I’m not trying to friendzone you…” Dean laughs, a little crazed that he’s actually in this conversation. More that he’s about to- “I just- I want you around…  because I like having you around. I want you around because I like seeing you and I like your grumpy little jokes and I like your dumb info dumps about plants and I like watching movies with you you’re only watching to humor my dumb ass…” Dean trails off, the little bit of pink in his cheeks matching Cas’s. “Listen, Cas, you’re not like a brother to me. I mean, I love my brothers, but I don’t love them like that.” He swallows, looking at the road in front of them. It stretches quiet and unremarkable, like it has no idea the progress being made in this old hunk of well-shaped metal. “Like this.”

He keeps facing straight ahead, fingers tapping out of beat against the wheel now. Cas is dumbstruck. The car is filled with the heaviness of it. It’s finally out there. Dean loves him. Cas looks over at Dean, and lights throw his face into half shadow, and he looks beautiful. Cas reaches out and grabs his hand off the wheel and holds it in his own. Dean keeps driving. One handed.

tag list: 

@dochunterwitch  @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus @damian-janus-pendragon

[catharrington]

1. Cream in my coffee

2. Honey in my tea

3. Rum in my cola:

Steve’s not in the best of shape to hit a party the next night, less than 20 hours from his walk of shame and he’s sporting bruises on his wrists and a migraine— but he’s a high school senior. Even if fallen from grace, has to keep face. Even if the only thing he’s had over the entire day was a couple cups of tea with way too much sugar dissolved inside the mug.

Steve knew if he drank on an empty stomach it wouldn’t take long to get drunk, and a part of him is counting on it.

The stainless steel kettle is still out on his stove top. The lights leading to his kitchen are all still flipped on. He doesn’t want to touch anything. Doesn’t want to disturb the cloud of cigarette smoke and bad boy attitude Billy left lingering when he came and went. Steve doesn’t touch anything for those 20 hours because it will feel too much like he’s trying to hold Billy’s hand.

Instead, he stayed in his room, washing his skin until it rubbed red and then washing it again. Running his fingers through his hair to work his organic, name brand product in fresh. No more somber burnt coffee feelings of itchy bed sheets on his skin.

Steve comes out of his bathroom with a towel tied low on his hips. He traces his hands over the back of his desk chair where he laid out Billy’s jacket. He didn’t ask to keep it, also didn’t offer to give it back. Just kept it.

That night, when he decides he is going to keep face and show up at the graduating class’ senior year bash, he reaches for the jacket again to slip it on. It goes on much easier than in the Camaro where he gingerly grazed it over open wounds. Now the marks on his wrists are sore purple and black, and less burning red, but he’s happy to have the longer sleeves to pull down. To cover up.

He backs his expensive BMW out his driveway, he flipped all the lights off so his house looks decrepit, abandoned, as he pulls away.

Tina’s house is big, not as big as his, but big enough to come to a party and go unnoticed if you tried hard enough. Steve’s plan was to swim in, drink some beer and mix it with harder liquior to get him drunk faster, say a few short quips to make someone anyone laugh, then leave where he came. Maybe stumble home and find a sickly grey, dripping blood from the knife edges of teeth it calls a mouth, demogorgon he can sink his boiling anger into.

But now, he felt along the floral wallpaper as he made his way to Tina’s kitchen. He gets there and wraps his hands around the bottle of a chilled beer right from the fridge when the remote control hits pause.

“Thought I might find you here,” a voice dribbles down the back of his neck like burning alcohol. “I’m happy you got home safe, Steve.”

The long sleeve shirt Steve picked for the night feels too high up on the collar for him now. Feels choking and painful as he hears that voice again. The voice that was disappointed, not mad, even when Steve wanted to fight.

“You gonna look at me?” The man asks. An uppity tone to his voice. Makes Steve whip around his head to level him with a glare. The bruises on his wrists move with how hard he’s gripping the neck of his beer bottle. If it was any weaker, if he was any stronger, he could shatter it in his hands.

“What’s to look at?” Steve says quiet. They’re mostly alone in the kitchen. But the fluorescent lights are much brighter than any light that should shine down on their relationship. “I told you yesterday, I’m finished.”

The guy sighs out, stirs his mixed drink he’s nursing before he pushes it towards Steve down the counter. Steve doesn’t touch it, doesn’t even think of touching it. If the little gesture has done anything, it’s been to make his teeth grind down.

“You’re really gonna throw this away,” the man says smoothly, scooting close as his drink.

“Yeah,” Steve flicks dark brown eyes from the drink to the man’s face, “I guess I’m just not cut out for what you want.”

“You don’t know that until you try. Experiment-.”

“We tried plenty, decided I didn’t like most of it,” and Steve’s vision doesn’t waver even if his voice slightly does, “decided I didn’t like you.”

The guy swallows thickly. Takes his plastic cup and takes a swig long and loud. He’s obnoxious in the way he gulps it down, licks his lips to chase the dark liquid from the corners of his mouth, and leans in close enough so Steve can smell the mix on his lips. Rum and cola, the easiest fucking thing. The cheapest fucking thing. He’s had it at lots of parties, now he just feels sick about it.

“Back off me, man,” Steve whispers.

“Don’t be scared,” he slurs, reaching one hand that isn’t swirling his foul smelling drink and uses it to cup over Steve’s arm. Slides his big hand down around his wrist, squeezes denim into bruises, drawls out a hiss Steve doesn’t have time to muffle. Squeezed again when he figures it out.

Steve yanks out the hold quickly, pulling his arm back to his stomach to protect it, the other one pushing his beer bottle between them as if that’ll protect him. Maybe he will smash it over this guys head. Maybe he’ll smash it over the counter and use the sharped neck to carve away the mold growing over this guys skin.

That would take all night, so Steve only throws a glare before he’s moving off the counter and into the party.

He gets lost in the waves of people on people, grinding and pushing and laughing and drinking all together. Steve bumps against a guy, dark hair and freckles on his face, gets a plastic cup poured down his shirt for his troubles. But Steve isn’t listening to the empty threats. He scowls, shoots a “fuck off, Tommy,” before he keeps going.

Ends up on the back porch, the nighttime air trying to curl it’s fingers into the warm denim of Billy’s jacket. It doesn’t stand a chance. But there are real fingers chasing the air. They wrap around Steve’s wrist again and again dig into his tender skin. He’s got the beer bottle still in his hand and it swooshes around as he grips it like he’s ready for a fight.

But when he turns around: it’s Billy, Billy Hargrove, curly blond hair and dark eyelashes. Groomed brows drawn to a straight line of worry on his face. His hand drops from Steve’s wrist quicker than Steve can drop the beer bottle with a clatter to the ground.

The amber liquid pours out like honey between the wooden deck to the grass below.

“Gonna take a swing at me?” Billy asks. His voice humored, gentle, infuriatingly relaxing.

“Don’t touch me, Hargrove.” Steve warns.

Billy holds his hands up in the air. He’s wearing a new jacket, soft brown leather that’s worn almost down to the thread, thankfully, he’s not missing his denim jacket that got adopted out too much.

“You can take a swing, I won’t punch back. But you’ll be stuck on full nerd car ride duty if I die so good luck with that, Stevie,” he says with a wink.

Steve doesn’t reply. Just glances around the porch until he finds a rail to lean against.

“Hey,” Billy keeps his soft voice low.

He follows Steve with the moonlight midnight blue dancing on his dark tanned skin. He lays a hand over Steve’s shoulder. One hand goes to touch his jaw so lightly Steve’s thinking he’s imagining it. Until Billy’s thick fingers slide up the bone and curl behind his ear. Tangled with the longest parts of his hair. It’s too familiar, far too familiar, for what little they are. But Steve can’t help but lean into the touch.

Coming to the party was a bad idea. He’s got half a beer in his stomach and a drink spilt down his shirt, and Steve’s already feeling sick enough to purr under Billy’s touch.

“What happened?” Billy asks. Steve doesn’t reply, lets his eyes slide closed and his skin soak up the warm fingers.

“It’s not... God- it’s not some monster shit again?” Billy’s voice is hushed.

Steve doesn’t know how to reply. No, he wants to say, of course not, but with the clawing rage building inside him mixing stiffly like a cheap drink with the fear he felt as he ran out of the kitchen; maybe it was a monster.

He doesn’t get to reply though, before the screen door to the porch is creaking open behind them.

“Steve?” the man, monster, calls out for him.

Opening his eyes, Steve sees the wild back of Billy’s hair, curled tight and sticky with hairspray, and golden, so fucking golden, in the single naked bulb on the porch. Steve doesn’t have to see him to see him. He’s been on the receiving end of Billy’s glare enough, just last night before he got in the Camaro. It makes his toes curl in his socks.

“Glad I found you, babe,” the man leaves the door open, the pollution of light and noise spilling out over Billy’s gentle touch. Turns his shoulders rigged. Steve wants to cup them as comforting as Billy did to him last night, but he can’t. Only holds his own hands, his bruised wrists in his cold fingers, while he watches.

Billy doesn’t step aside, says, “what’s it ya lookin for, buddy?” while blocking Steve’s view like a wall.

The man catches himself for a second, he’s older but not by much, not by enough. And nothing the rum in his cola wouldn’t have equalized. “Steve,” he groans annoyed, “let’s go, we need to talk this out. Like two adults.”

And that gets Steve’s skin itching, scratchy, wants to rip a bat hammered through with nails into something soft. “There’s nothing more I have to say to you, oh- except maybe one thing: fuck off!”

“Don’t be immature about this-,”

“Didn’t you hear him?” Billy doesn’t let him finish. Cuts off that tone of disappointment like he was made to do it. Sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. He sits up on the railing just enough to see the man over Billy’s shoulder.

He notices the way the open door let a few curious eyes gather. One red flushed freckled face and curly red hair stand out. Steve looks between Tommy and Carol and Billy’s lip turned up into a snarl.

“Pretty boy here said fuck off, bitch,” he snarls, dog like, and each word is angrier than the next.

Tommy smiles wide, Steve recognizes that more than he should. And it’s familiar in a familiar painful sort of way. He wishes he was back in his kitchen away from all this. With the Billy who made him tea. Now he’s with Hawkins High tip of pyramid, wolves looking out for their pack with the same fervor they have to taste blood on their fangs.

Steve doesn’t know if this is about him anymore, a part of him knows it is, a part of him wants to think Billy is doing this singuarilly to defend him, but a shadow from his past is creeping in the open doorways yellow light smirking as if it knows better.

“Let’s go, Billy,” Steve says. He’s tired of thinking so much. Exhausted from it. Just wants to sink into leather Camaro seats and upturn the collar of Billy’s jacket and smell again. “Let’s get out of here,” he repeats, stepping forward to get a hand on Billy’s back.

“Oh! You’re not going anywhere!” The man slurs out as he zeros in on Steve’s hand, but those were the wrong words.

Quicker than Steve can think through his headache, quicker than the man can see through the haze of alcohol, but just as fast as a high school student’s hyena laughter; Billy’s hand balls into a fist and cracks against bone.

Snap, and the man is lurching backwards, his hands flying up to cup around his nose. Blood pours down his face and between his fingers red like the plastic cup he dropped on the ground. More dark brown liquid sloshes around his feet.

Billy moves without mercy. He scoops the man up by the collar of his shirt, yanking him to attention, getting real close.

“No one tells me what to do,” he hisses.

Steve can’t fucking take it. He reaches forward again, this time getting a fist in Billy’s jacket and pulling the fabric tight to get his attention. Feels like he’s pulling on a wild animals leash but he keeps pulling.

“Let him go, Hargrove, he’s not worth it,” he tells him what to do. Voice quiet under Tommy’s laughter and Carol’s cheers.

“Let’s go,” Steve presses the point of his sharp nose into the soft spot behind Billy’s ear, whispers right to him.

It’s easy as pressing a button on the other boy. Billy drops the man heavy on the ground. Listens to Steve above all the noise. He turns into the touch, allows it when Steve’s hand slides from where his jacket is bunched in the back and down to his wrist.

Steve wraps his hand around Billy’s wrist and pulls.

They stumble together down the steps of Tina’s back porch. They stumble together across the dark grass in the middle of the night and search blindly for a baby blue Camaro. Billy finds it first, pressing his overheated skin against the chilled metal. Steve walks around the front, leading with his hands over hands across the hood to keep his balance. They drop into the leather seats. Steve takes a gulp of air that’s just as satisfying as lighting up his own marlboro red.

The engine starts to life, vibrating under his ass and pushing the blood through his slug stiff veins. Billy growls along with it. Throws his head back. His curly hair flattened on the back by his headrest as he opens his pretty mouth wide to holler. One hand gripping the wheel is skinned on the knuckles, blood just starting to drip out.

Steve lets his head fall back same as Billy. His chest heaving as hard as it was in the boys locker room showers, when his vision was orange glow and California sun kissed skin. And all he could think about was how mustaches feel when you kiss them.

Billy turns to him. Smug smile on his face. Trying to get a rise out of him.

“How’s that for fighting monsters, pretty boy?” he shouts.

Steve takes a second to breath. Closes his eyes and opens them slow just to make sure he’s got his head on right. Then he replies, “I fucking love fighting monsters with you, Billy,” and he means it.

[carlotta-the-nerd-winters]

Rough Diamond - Chapter Three: Into The Unknown Team

A Week Later…

Postwick…

Something she had discovered about Blaze after spending their first night together—he was a snuggle monster. He made a beeline for her bed and buried himself under her quilt and blankets. The fire-type seemed content to sleep by her side and Gloria had to admit, it was nice having a warm plushie-like figure to sleep with at night.

Second thing she discovered about her newest partner—he was insanely fast. Even without the use of Quick Attack, Blaze had some fast feet. Something she was more than happy to have in battle. But chasing after him had been another thing entirely. He’d zip away when she’d tried to get him back into his ball. Eventually, she just gave up after her father told her that out of the three he gave to Leon, Blaze despised his pokeball.

But she had spent the week training and getting to know Blaze a little better. Most of the time, she had been out in the Wild Area and would return home in the afternoon. Charlie and Sonia had uploaded the Pokedex app onto hers and Hop’s phones. Both of their families had gifted them camping supplies and one of those never-ending space bags that were popular in Kanto. All that was left for them was to grab their Dynamax bands from Professor Magnolia.

“Gloria! You’ll be late for the train if you don’t head off now,” she heard her mother shout from downstairs.

“I’m coming!” she shouted back, fixing her black ripped jeans. Glancing one last time in the mirror, she combed her hair back and tied it up into a small ponytail. Maybe I should let it grow out more…

“Gloria Elizabeth Aegis!”

The brunette groaned, grabbing her brown backpack and left her room. Running downstairs, she found Hop waiting in the foyer with her mother and Victor who had Blaze snuggled in his arms.

“Honestly, what could be taking you so long to get dressed? You’re participating in the Gym Challenge. Not Love Islands,” Kathleen clucked her tongue as Blaze jumped out of Victor’s arms and onto her shoulder. “I’ve phoned ahead to the professor to let her know you’re on your way.”

“Thanks Kathy,” Hop smiled, hands in his pockets.

“Call us when you’ve arrived at Motostoke. Be safe you two,” Kathleen told them, looking between the two teens. Victor hugged his little sister before messing with her hair.

“Piss off,” she swiped at him, fixing her hair immediately as he laughed.

“Just have fun you guys. And know I’m betting on you two to take down Lee,” Victor said as Hop beamed. Checking the time on her watch, Kathleen ushered them out of the house.

“We better get going. I can’t wait to get my band,” Hop told her as they walked down the front steps of Gloria’s place. A few Wooloo cried in the distance as the morning sun shone down.

Out of habit, Gloria glanced at the fence that blocked off the Slumbering Weald and found it thrown open. “Hop,” she tugged at his sleeve, pointing it out.

His eyes widened. “Crap. There was a Wooloo there earlier tackling it. I didn’t think it’d actually bust through,” he said and she stared at him.

“You didn’t think a Pokémon using a physical attack move could break down an old wooden fence?” she asked sarcastically, shaking her head at him and headed in.

“What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing her wrist.

“Going to get the Wooloo out of there.”

“But it’s off-limits. Nobody’s supposed to go in there,” he reminded her. “Remember when the professor’s granddaughter went in once, and she came back in a real state.”

Gloria frowned. “Yeah but I went in there too and came back fine,” she pointed out, shaking off his grip and taking her wrist back. “Look, I’m going in there with or without you,” she said, marching on.

Hop groaned and ran after her, glaring at her smile. “This doesn’t mean you’re right. This is just the kind of scene where you simply have to do what’s needed!”

“Whatever you say, Hop,” she responded, letting Rookie out of his ball when the fog began rolling in. “Remember this place buddy?”

“Corvi,” Rookie chirped, looking around.

“There’s a Wooloo that’s gone missing. Take to the skies and see if you can find him from above,” she instructed as he nodded, taking off. He flew through the trees disappearing from their sight. “Stick close. It’s only fog from here on out.”

“Right,” he murmured, standing closer to Gloria as they began walking through. Blaze was staring at the forest in awe. “That Wooloo…where do you think it got off to?”

“Not sure,” she admitted, taking in the surrounding area. The sounds of many different Pokémon cries, singing their tunes. Barely any sunlight managed to break through the thick leaves on the dozens of trees. The air was cool, a slight breeze running through and stirring up the leaves on the ground. The forest hadn’t changed since she was a child.

I wonder if that large Pokémon is still here, she wondered, coming across the small pond. “Careful to not slip,” she told Hop as she jumped on the small stone and got across.

“You seem at home in here,” Hop noted as they continued on, walking across the old, stone bridge. Covered in vines, leaves and moss…it had been here for a long time.

“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling a little. “It’s…it’s hard to explain but there’s just something that calls to me in here. And don’t you think it’s fascinating that time just stands still in here?”

He stared at her as she stood still, gazing softly at the dark forest. “Like there’s someone waiting for you in here,” he said, and she whirled around, beaming at him.

“Exactly. I knew you’d get it,” she said and Hop chuckled, lightly elbowing her in the side.

“I still think you’re barmy,” he winked and grabbed her wrist. “We better keep going or else that Wooloo might be in real trouble.”

She followed as they jogged further in. Just as she remembered from her childhood, the deeper they went in, the denser the fog became. Hope kept a hold on her wrist and eventually moved to her hand in order for them to not lose each other.

“This is mad!” Hope swore, squinting his eyes as they slowed to a walk. “I can’t even see my own hand in front of my face.”

“It gets worse the further we go in.”

“I think I get now why this place is off-limits,” he muttered as a large figure appeared in the fog. Hop flinched at the sight of the large, scarred dog-like Pokémon while Gloria beamed.

“It’s you again,” she smiled as its yellow eyes focused on her again. “Thank you for helping Rookie and I out that time.”

It growled low as she held a hand outwards. It stared at the hand for a moment before sniffing it. It’s ears, which had been previously close to its head were standing up straight.

“We need your help again. A Wooloo has gone missing around here,” Ria continued as it pulled back. It howled, the loud sound forcing the teens to cover their ears and more fog was released, covering the area.

“Ria!” Hop called out. “I can’t see anything. You okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine.” She answered, feeling a little weak in the knees and exhaustion washed over her. Her eyelids felt heavy and she struggled to keep them open any longer. It was if the fog itself was sucking all of the energy out of her body. “Hop…”

He called her name again as she collapsed onto the ground, darkness taking her.

We have waited for you, children of Alastair and Sander.

When she came to, Hop’s golden gaze was staring at her and his brows were furrowed. Behind him were the large, dark trees of the Slumbering Weald. Something warm was on her chest and she looked down, finding Blaze on her with his little paws gripping her grey cardigan.

“Ria, thank Arceus you’re awake,” Hop sighed, holding her tighter in his arms. She soon wiggled out of his arms and rose to her feet, holding the shaking Blaze in her arms. He must’ve been frightened by what happened.

“What happened?” she asked as she put her fingers to her lips, whistling for Rookie to return to her.

“I’m not sure, mate.” Hop admitted. “I was clonked out like you and woke up here. Heard Blaze here crying and saw you unconscious,” he shook his head, staring at her. “Gave me a real fright. Did this happen last time?”

Ria shook her head as she heard Rookie’s cry ring out across the forest. She whistled once more, hearing him draw closer—along with Leon.

“Wha—? Lee?” Hop exclaimed as his older brother broke through some thick bushes along with Rookie. Ria’s Pokémon landed in front of her as Leon checked on the pair. “How’d you manage to find your way here? You’re pants with directions. You always get lost.”

Leon shot him a glare. “Oh, that’s nice to hear from the little brother who had me worried sick,” he snapped at him before pointing his head at Rookie. “I’d been waiting for ages for you two and when you never showed up, I went to Ria’s place. Rookie found me and brought me to you guys.”

Ria crouched down, stroking her partner’s head. “Thanks for getting help,” she said as he nudged her hand.

“Where’s the Wooloo? We were trying to rescue that Wooloo.”

“The little chap’s fine by the entrance. Charizard is with him,” Leon answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you two know this place is off-bounds. However, it took courage to come in here all the same. And I can understand well enough why you did it.”

Hop rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. “At least that Wooloo’s all right.”

“Come on you two, let’s get out of this place. You’ll be all right now that I’m here with you,” Leon said, walking ahead. The two soon followed and Ria noticed Hop sticking close to her side.

“You okay?’ she asked him quietly and he nodded.

“Yeah. Just shaking off the shock,” he reassured her with a smile. “Even if we did get an earful from Lee, what an experience. This’ll make a pretty fine first page in the tale of my legend.”

oOo

A Few Hours Later…

After a flock of Wooloo halted their train ride to Motostoke, the teens were walking through the smaller Wild Area outside the great city. Eventually Hop parted ways to have one last training session before the opening ceremony tomorrow. They promised to meet up at the stadium so they could sign up together—something the darker teen made her swear by.

As she was walking along the Axel Lake, Rommie flew out of her pocket with Teddy’s ringtone playing. “Teddy’s requesting a video call.”

“Put him through,” she instructed, coming to a stop. Blaze jumped out of her arms, choosing to run around the area. “Stick close by where I can see you.”

“Bun!” Blaze answered back, disappearing into the bushes.

“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full already,” Teddy chuckled as his image flicked onto the small phone screen. He was the spitting image of their father—the same black hair and the Sycamore grey eyes—but he had a large scar across his left eye from a Pyroar a few years ago. Teddy jokes that it’s the only way people could tell him and their father apart. “I wanted to wish you luck on your journey. Sorry I couldn’t be there to see you off.”

Ria shrugged her shoulders. “It’s fine. People in Almia just don’t get how big the Gym Challenge is. They don’t even have a league there.”

“Aye but all the same, I’ve missed out on a family reunion. Have you got a game plan?”

“I picked up a Scorbunny. Both my fire and flying types will be at an advantage against Milo. I just need to get my hands on either an electric or a grass-type for Nessa’s gym. I’ll be able to find a water-type in Hulbury somewhere for Kabu’s gym.”

“Good. Make sure to follow through on your plan. I’ve got my TV set up to record all of yours and Hop’s matches. Tell him good luck for me next time you see him.”

“I will,” she promised as Blaze’s cried out. Frowning, she, and Rookie rushed over to where her smaller Pokémon just as a small explosion erupted. Dirt and dust flew into the air and Ria coughed a few times, swiping it away. “Blaze? Are you okay?”

“Bun, bun,” the small Pokémon confirmed as she discovered a small, lighter coloured Budew shivering behind him. Blaze was protecting it from his stance, and she glanced to where he was glaring. A couple of Nickit were on the ground, clearly injured and growling at Blaze.

They were attacking this Budew. Or at the very least antagonising it, she realised, running over, and picking up the Budew in her arms. “Rookie, use Air Slash to clear them away,” she ordered as he sprung into action. Using his large wings, he sent gusts of razor-sharp air pockets to whip them away. Only one hung onto the ground and sprinted towards Blaze once the air died down. “Blaze, use Quick Attack.”

Blaze disappeared for a split second before reappearing and knocking into the last Nickit. The collision sent the dark-type flying through the air and landing on the ground, completely knocked out. Seeing the enemy defeated, the fire-type spun around to flash them a wide grin.

“Good job bud,” Gloria complimented and knelt down to gently place the Budew onto the ground. A flash of light caught everyone’s attention and it turned out the source was none other than Blaze himself. Having seen an evolution in progress plenty of times at her father’s day care, the brunette watched in fascination. His body began to grow in height and width, his ears getting longer and flopping down. When the light disappeared, Blaze had finished his evolution and was staring at his paws in fascination.

“You got him to evolve already?” Teddy’s voice interrupted her stare, alerting her to the fact that he was still on the phone. “That was too quick. What kind of training regime have you been doing with him?”

“The same one as Rookie’s,” she answered, eyes flicking over to the floating Rotom phone. “Rommie, scan Blaze and bring up his Pokedex entry.”

“Okie dokie,” she chirped, quickly scanning Blaze’s form and brought the information up on the screen.

Raboot, the Rabbit Pokémon and the evolved form of Scorbunny. It’s thick and fluffy fur protects it from the cold and enables it to use hotter fire moves. It kicks berries right off the branches of trees and then juggles them with its feet, practicing its footwork.

“Congrats on evolving, Blaze,” she smiled as he checked on the Budew. Seeing how he checked for injuries had Gloria smiling widely. She also couldn’t help but stare at the different coloured Budew. It’s outer layer was a brighter green and the little bits of petal on its front was purple instead of the usual darker green. It took her a moment to realise that the Budew in front of her was an infamous ‘shiny’ Pokémon. Gloria had planned on obtaining a Pokémon for Nessa’s gym and the Budew line tended to have higher special attack stats. “Hey Budew,” Gloria caught its attention and smiled. “How would you like to come with us?”

Budew glanced at Blaze who gave her a nod. Encouraged, Budew walked closer to the teen and lightly tapped its head against the outstretched Pokeball. After disappearing and a few tense seconds later, Gloria had added a Budew to her team.

A quick scan on her Pokedex showed that this Budew was a female and had the ability of natural cure. An ability that would no doubt come in handy during the Gym Challenge.

Gloria released the Budew and pondered over a name. Not wanting for Victor to make fun of her again, she moved away from the obvious choice of Rose. Finally, after musing over a few choices, she smiled at her new Pokémon. “How does the name Pollen sound?”

“Budew,” she chimed happily as Rommie registered the name.

“Welcome to the team, Pollen.”

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Songs: Into The Unknown by Panic! At The Disco and Team by Tova. Both songs have been added to the Spotify playlist for this fic. Each time I'm writing up a chapter, I add the songs I'm listening to when writing said chapter so think of it as a preview. If you wanna check it out, it's called the Rough Diamond Playlist. 

Thanks to everyone who's kudos and a special shout out to a_human_called_aoife for your lovely comment! Honestly had me smiling while reading it and I hope you continue to enjoy this fic. More comments are appreciated! Seriously, they make writers post work quicker. 

Also, this chapter took a while as I've just moved into my new house and getting a new job. 

[starship-squidlet]

Once in a Blue Moon

(A Newsies 1950s Band AU)

Chapter summary: This chapter follows Scenes 6 and 7 of New Music directly! I’ll link them below. What happens with Finch, Mush, and Elaine after they leave Medda’s club.

Word count: 2,102

Disclaimer: New Music Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @chaotic-sunflower-galaxy @i-am-a-wizard @xbanner-carriedx (let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from the tag list!)

A/N: ajnanvlkjwnfoaneowafa I am SO excited to finally be sharing this!!! Am I going to post most/all of it tonight? Probably. But it’ll be linked in my masterlist and I’ll schedule it to reblog over the next few days, so don’t worry about missing anything!!! I’m using the New Music disclaimer because this is set in the same universe (and in the middle of New Music anyways) anddd I’m too lazy to rewrite it.

A friendly reminder: This is a fic centering around a polyamorous relationship. If that’s not your thing, don’t read it! It’s that simple! I haven’t done the best job of representing it except for a particularly painful bit at the very end, but all three characters are also on the Ace spectrum. This is my personal HC, and, again, if you don’t like, don’t read.

Yes, the opening quote is from the Smurfs movie. That’s also where the title came from. Don’t @ me, it’s a cute movie ���

Previous chapter: New Music Act 2, Scene 6 & Scene 7

Next chapter: Chapter 2

“‘Once in a blue moon.’

That means that there are only a few moments in your life when something truly memorable, truly magical, happens to you. And, if you hesitate, if you're afraid, you might just miss it. That's what that image means. Don't let those blue moon moments pass you by.”

Finch climbed into his truck and shut the door with a sigh. On the other side of the cab, Mush was sitting with his head resting against the cool glass of the passenger window, eyes closed. Elaine was in the middle of the bench seat, left foot on the seat and arms wrapped around her leg, chin resting on the edge of her knee. Her right foot hung just above the floor—she was the tiniest bit too short to actually reach the floor from the truck’s seat—her shoe unlaced to allow for the swelling in her ankle. The drive was nearly silent, which was practically unheard of between the three of them. When they pulled up in front of Elaine’s house, Mush finally lifted his head from the window. Finch turned off the engine and hopped out of the truck; by the time he got around to the other side of the truck, Mush was already out and offering Elaine a hand down. When she climbed down and tried to put weight on her sprained ankle, she lost her balance and fell into the door before either of the boys could catch her.

“C’mere,” said Finch, offering her his arm. She let him lift her up bridal-style and carry her to the door of the house. Mush grabbed her school bag, shut the door to the truck, and followed them up the stairs to the stoop of the house.

“Key’s in the outside pocket of my bag,” Elaine said, pointing vaguely. Mush fished out the key and opened the door for the other two.

“Is it okay if we come in?” Finch asked, already halfway through the door.

“Yeah, Madison and my dad are gone for the week, with the babies,” Elaine said. “Alan and Alden are the only people around.”

Mush closed the door once they were all inside and followed Finch and Elaine through the house into the kitchen, where Finch set Elaine down on the counter and pushed Mush down into a chair at the kitchen table.

“Towels?” he asked Elaine.

“Um… that drawer,” she pointed.

Finch pulled out a handful of towels, grabbed the ice trays from the freezer, and filled a pair of towels with ice, then bundled up the ice with an extra towel and handed one of the little packs to Elaine and one to Mush. He dragged another chair over to Elaine so she could prop her foot up on the back of it to rest the ice pack on her swollen ankle. “Is that okay?”

She nodded. “The ice feels good.”

“Do you have any aspirin around here?” Finch asked, filling the ice trays with water and putting them back in the freezer

“Uh, yeah, upstairs, in the bathroom next to Alan and Alden’s room.”

“I’ll be back.” Finch headed for the back stairs.

“Hey, if the boys are up, let them know we’re down here,” said Elaine.

Finch nodded. Upstairs, he kept as quiet as he could in the hall heading for the bathroom. There was a light on under the door of the boys’ room, but he slipped into the bathroom and grabbed the bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet before returning to the door. He knocked softly on it, and entered when he heard someone call “come in” from inside.

Alan turned around at his desk and seemed surprised to see Finch standing in the doorway. “Hey. What’re you doing here?”

“I brought Elaine home. She and Mush are down in the kitchen.”

Alan glanced at his watch. “It’s early for rehearsal to be over.”

“Yeah, uh… rehearsal didn’t really happen today.”

Alan arched an eyebrow. “Did something happen?”

Finch sighed. “There was a little bit of a dustup with the Delancey twins. They jumped Crutchie, Cora, and Elaine on their way to rehearsal.”

“Is Elaine okay?” Alan was on his feet and moving towards the door in the blink of an eye.

“Sprained ankle and a scrape up her arm, but she’s fine,” said Finch. “Actually, do you have stuff to clean out her arm? I came up for aspirin, but I want to do that too.”

“Sure; I’ll grab it,” said Alan.

Finch nodded and headed back towards the stairs, taking a slight detour into Elaine’s room to grab her a clean shirt. Back down in the kitchen, he passed the shirt to Elaine. By the time Alan came down the stairs a few moments later, carrying cotton balls, gauze, tape, and peroxide, she had eased off her ripped sweater and pulled on the new shirt—a soft cotton t-shirt with short sleeves that left the still-bleeding scrape uncovered. The sweater went straight into the trash, and she stared mournfully down at her ripped and bloodstained skirt as Finch gently took her arm and began pulling debris out of the wound. Alan handed him a pair of tweezers, which he used to help with the process. Mush had his head down on the table, arms supporting his head so that his nose could rest on the ice pack.

“Guess I’ll make some dinner,” said Alan. “Alden will be home soon. You two staying to eat?”

“Sure,” Finch shrugged. “I’ll call my mom when I’m done.”

Elaine winced away from Finch’s hands and the tweezers. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” said Finch.

Alan pulled out a loaf of bread, a packet of cheese, and a few cans of tomato soup and got to work making grilled cheese sandwiches for each of them. At some point, they heard the front door open and Alden yelled, “I’m home!”

“Kitchen!” Alan called back.

Alden burst into the kitchen, a happy little ball of energy, but his face fell when he saw Elaine and Mush. “Whoa, what happened to you guys?”

“Just some bullies from school,” Elaine sighed. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You hungry, buddy, or did you eat at Les’s?” Alan asked.

“We had a snack when we got there, but now I’m hungry,” said Alden.

“Grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup?”

“Yummy!” Alden grinned.

“Sit down at the table; you can have the next one.”

After dinner, Alan took Alden upstairs to get a bath, leaving Elaine, Finch, and Mush alone downstairs. Finch washed the dishes for dinner, shooing the others into the family room to ice their injuries again. Mush sank down on the couch, and Elaine curled up against him, ankle propped on a pillow on the coffee table with the ice pack on top of it. Mush held his ice pack on his face for a little while, but soon gave up and leaned forward to position both of the packs around Elaine’s ankle. She giggled slightly as he fussed with them.

“Cold,” she mumbled.

Mush laughed. “Well, it is ice.”

“No, me,” Elaine grumbled.

Mush smiled and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Better?”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

By the time Finch joined them, Mush was asleep, head back against the back of the couch. Elaine was nodding off, her eyes drifting shut and then snapping open as she struggled to stay awake. “Hey,” Finch whispered, settling onto the couch next to Elaine and slipping his arm around her waist. He leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “How’s the ankle?”

“Icy,” Elaine yawned.

“Oh, yeah, it’s probably about time to take those off,” Finch chuckled. He grabbed the ice packs and took them into the kitchen to deposit the melting ice into the sink and drape the damp towels over the backs of the chairs before returning to the couch. Once he was settled, Elaine shifted to lean her head against his chest and sighed. Finch rested his cheek against the top of her head and smiled to himself.

“You can stay here tonight, if you want,” Elaine murmured. “There’s another couch in the living room.”

“I promised my mom I’d be home tonight,” Finch sighed. “But I’ll see you at school tomorrow, right?”

“I don’t know,” Elaine sighed. “It depends how my ankle feels. Madison isn’t here to question me skipping, either, so we’ll see.”

Finch nodded and hugged her a little closer. “I’ll come by after school to see how you’re doing.” He looked at Mush over Elaine’s head, the other boy still sound asleep. “Keep an eye on him, will you?”

“Yeah,” Elaine smiled. “Should we call his dad?”

“He won’t be home until late, and probably won’t notice if Mush isn’t there anyways. He stays over at my house often enough anyways. Levi will probably just assume that’s where he is. Mush can call him in the mornin’; that’s the most likely time to get him anyways.”

Elaine nodded. “Okay. How much longer can you stay?”

Finch glanced at the clock over the mantle. “Thirty minutes? My mom doesn’t like me drivin’ too late.”

“Okay,” Elaine nodded sleepily, slipping her arms around Finch’s waist.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Mush woke up shortly after Finch left, when Elaine came back into the family room with an armful of pillows and blankets. “Hey,” Elaine said softly, wincing as she stepped on her sprained ankle a little too heavily. She sat on the edge of the coffee table and smiled at him. “Finch went home. You’re staying here tonight.”

Mush nodded sleepily. “Okay.”

Elaine smiled and reached out to brush a hand over his cheek. “I brought you a pillow and some blankets. You can sleep down here. Or if you can’t sleep, you can come upstairs; I’m pretty sure my ankle hurts too much for me to sleep anyways.”

Mush nodded again, offering her a small smile. “Thanks.”

“The aspirin is still in the kitchen, too, if you need it again. I can bring you a glass of water before I go up, if you want.”

“No, I can get it; you shouldn’t walk too much on your ankle.”

Elaine shrugged. “A few extra steps won’t kill me. But thanks. I’ll be upstairs if you need anything.”

She had just climbed into the bed, resigned to stare at the ceiling as her ankle throbbed, when there was a soft knock on her door. She sat up and called out softly: “Come in.”

Mush pushed the door open, looking sheepish. “Sorry. My face really hurts and I couldn't settle downstairs.”

Elaine smiled and scooted over to the far side of the bed, then patted the spot next to her. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Mush seemed a little hesitant, but slipped under the blankets and laid down facing her. Elaine yawned. “Are you warm enough? There’s another blanket at the end of the bed if you’re cold.”

“I’m fine. You?”

Elaine shrugged. “I’m fine.”

They were quiet for a moment. “Thank you,” Elaine said finally.

“For what?”

“For earlier. For… in the alley. With the Delanceys. Thank you.”

“It was nothin’.”

Elaine snorted. “It wasn’t nothing. They’re scary guys. And if you guys hadn’t shown up when you did…”

“Don’t think about it,” said Mush. “It doesn’t matter. We got there, we finished it, end of story.”

Elaine nodded. “How did you guys even know we needed help?”

“Finch and Buttons were havin’ issues with some of the equipment, so while they were sorting it out we went with Race because he wanted to pick up a pack of cigarettes, and we heard you screamin’. We didn’t realize who it was, but when Race saw Cora’s bag on the sidewalk, he took off and the rest of us followed.”

Elaine smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see anyone in my life than when I saw you running towards Morris Delancey.”

Mush let out a short laugh. “I’m pretty sure if I’d thought about it, I would have done it differently, but the second I saw you two at the other end of that alley… I don’t know. It was like I stopped thinkin’ and just ran.”

Elaine reached out and took his hand. “I’m glad you did. Well—maybe not entirely, since you did end up with a broken nose out of it, so I’m sorry for that. But thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“Any time,” Mush smiled.

“Well, hopefully I won’t need you to come running in like that ever again,” Elaine laughed. “But, just in case I do, it’s kind of nice to know that you have my back.”

Mush gave her hand a squeeze and nodded.

[aw-eather]

Heather Watches SG1: s2ep22 Out of Mind and s3ep01 Into the Fire

Ah two of my all time favourites. Maybe even THE favourites. They’re just SO good. Also my shipper heart cannot take it but we love torturing ourselves here so lets go. 

I’m gonna try and do enough that y’all get at least one post a day and scheduel them to go up periodically :) 

This go very long so I hope it posts properly. 

Ooooh mysterious tank

I mean honestly this was suspicious from the get go

Don’t trust this guy

JACK

YOU’RE ALL WET JACK

Is he? 

Are they dead tho? Are you sure? Cause that sounds fake... 

You see, the year is now.............. 2077

CREDITS

Teal’c looks all big and scary but really he’s a precious boy

End credits

TERYL ROTHERY

honestly that device looks very Star Trek

Missed opportunity to make a 69 joke

Girl he has been asleep for 79 years he probably remembers shit all 

Good boy, answer nothing. Don‘t trust the random men that woke you up

thats not sarcasm, I don’t trust them either 

“the rest of the facility” riiiiiight

Wizard of Oz reference

38 teams is a lot of teams

MMMMMMMM sounds FAKE

DON’T TRUST HIM JACK

General whats his face just dropped something on the ground

STARGATE

Jack is handsome

Me: I’m gay

Jack O’Neill: Yeah sure ya bethcha 

Are ya just? What makes ya think Jack can help? he’s been asleep for 79 years

Tok’ra mind probe

Benefical alliance my ass, what did they ever really do for the Tau’ri??

Except promise to send a ship when they “had one available”

So thinking of Sam right now would be BAD Jack. 

NOX

I LOVE THE NOX

WHAT CUTIES

look at them, they’re so sweet

Jack stop thinking and showing them shit 

Could be a great weapon but the Nox are peaceful and beautiful and I love them

LITTLE GREY ALIENS WITH THE LITTLE GREY BUTTS

Thats a big ship

This is the only “look at all the shit we’ve managed to do so far” episode that is actually any good

Why don’t we meet the Furlings?

I wanna meet them 

They sound fluffy

I love the baby asgards look at ‘em so cuuuuute

Kathrine! You’re great girly

“Touch it” *Jack touches it without knowing what it does, could die*

Jack waving his gun to touch the molecules seems like a bad idea

Yeah let him rest stop bullying him

purple goop

stop the pruple goop Jack

purple goop is never a good thing

Oh look... ANOTHER tank

DANNY BOY

Please cover your nipples

I don’t wanna see your man nipples

A third tank... funny that

SSSSAAAAAAMMMMMM

Funny how none of them are ACTUALLY dead

LIES WE’VE JUST SEEM THEM

Get these people some clothes

leaving her wrapped in a blanket is rude

Blanket looks like a mat tbh

BRATAC

SKARRA

Daniels hair is so bad in this episode I’m not sorry its HORRIBLE 

He has a SHIELD Jack

FUCK YEAH JACK THROW THAT KNIFE YAS

HATHOR

I love Hathor hosts

She’s great honestly

Sam and janet and the girls kicking ass is the best

RIP Hathor 

No seriously Daniel’s hair is BAD

Teal’c

JANET

ah yes, unusual 

Teal’c is so passionate and caring about his friends I love him so much

THREE FUCKING WEEKS?!?!?!?!

janet is such an angel you can’t convince me otherwise

Are they tho? 

Yeah he would but Teal’c with do anything for his F A M I L Y

Well he will leave

Aw Teal’c I love you with my entire heart

That zoom in on the patch is nice 

YES JACK STOP THE GOOP

Nice kick! 

BYE TEAL’C I LOVE YOU

AWW THIS EXCHANGE IS SO NICE 

AW THE SALUTE BABE NO THAT HURTS MY HEART ITS SO SWEET

#SorryNotSorry but Jack looks so fucking good in this outfit 

Like... he looks sooooo good

God I am questioning my sexuality left right and centre today

But seriously can he dress like that more often? 

Go get ya girl, Jack!

Oh look... not the SGC 

WHO WOULD HAVE EVER GUESSED

Serpant and Horus guards! :O

STOP THINKING BABE

THEY GONNA FIND YOOOOOU

SAAAAAAAAAM

BEAT THIS GUYS ASS AND SAVE. YOUR. GIRL

O U C H THAT WOULD FUCKING HURT

SHOULDER TOUCHING 

SHOULDER RUBBING

SHOULDER TOUCHING 

SHE IS TOUCHING HIM

I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD FOLLOWED BY A MEMORY OF HIM NEARLY DYING 

SHE’S STILL HOLDING HIS SHOULDER

STARING AT HER NAKED BACK

TRYING NOT TO STARE AT HER NAKED BACK

HE IS SO IN TROUBLE 

HE FANCIES HER SO MUCH 

I MEAN SAME

she also looks good but like he looks better???

GRABBING

WALL HOLDING

HANDS TOUCHING SHOULDERS

PINKY CURLED IN SO HE DOESN’T TOUCH BARE SKIN

COULD HAVE MOVED BUT ISN’T MOVING 

THEY WANNA HOLD EACH OTHER

DEAR GOD

sorry I’ll stop with the caps

I just physically cannot with those two

i love them so much

and i hate how they were treatd

Hathor you idiot, 

SUANNE

LOL Jack 

Servants in the royal court? Yeah sounds great

Rude Jack

lol the pat on the shoulder Jack you dick

uuuuuuhhhhh didn’t notice before how HOT IT IS WHEN HATHOR RUNS THE IDC REMOTE UNDER SAMS CHIN AND THE LOOK SAM GIVES HER I-

ACK SNAKE

I hate them the same way Jack does tbh

they make me squirm

Give it to Daniel. Why is Daniel the only one that never has a snake in him... wait... 

sorry but I just wanna talk with the national captions institute... 

Alright! On to Into the Fire! 

DAVIS

MAJOR DAVIS I LOVE YOU

MY FAVOURITE

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH EVEN IF THINGS DO FALL TO SHIT WHENEVER YOU’RE THERE

Dramatic zooooom on Hathors name for E M P H A S I S 

CREDITS

I love how Hammond is like EVERYONE is saving SG1

How DARE you, Daivs. They are THE team, rude!

I love that everyone steps forward because everyone loves SG1 but also everyone knows you don’t leave anyone else behind. 

I love Hammond

MARTIN WOOD :O

He is a great director

Ew snake

Jack still looks fucking good 

Jack now is not the time for sass 

Give it to Daniel. No one cares

Sam is like “I’m not scared bitch bring it”

Of course it wants Jack

Poor Jack

Why is it always him?? 

You tried, buddy

Sam’s hand on his CHEST PLEASE JUST GET MARRIED

TEAL’C 

BRATAC

Sam literally hates watching Jack in any pain 

Poor Jack

Hathor fuck off

What exactly was the point of ripping his shirt? It makes no difference to the snake going in the back of HIS HEAD

Ew

oh gross

i hate it

I hate it so much

ugh the chills I currently have

Suanne Baun is super pretty though

YAS TOK’RA LADY

WE RESPECT AND LOVE YOU

Another Wizard of Oz reference 

Sorry Daniel looks so bad

its the hair honestly, the little dorky fringe

Sam’s hair, on the other hand *chefs kiss*

Yeah but he’ll be fine, Tok’ra lady saved the day <3 

YAS GIRL

NOOO Poor Tok’ra lady

Sorry fam, I forgot her name lol 

Sam pulling that jacket on, Sam in a jacket thats a little too big for her , Sam in a white shirt.. Sam

Yeah they are Teal’c. 

Dead and false and dead... or is he???

Hand dance

Energy barrier is in the way, boys continue to shoot

oh no shooting towers of death are never a good sign

And of course Daniel got hurt so we have to baby him for the rest of the fucking episode jfc just sit him down somewhere and Sam and the rest of the teams can do the hard work... again

Cool Tok’ra tunnels are Cool

Lol Daniel being sassy (oh its just a deep, bleeding gash, it’ll be fine) lol sorry he is funny when he’s sassy

I’m sick of your army already, Hathor

OOOOH a barrier 

Hammond is awaiting 

Why do they give them such short time periods to do shit? Like they know things go wrong literally ALL THE TIME 

Like “hi you have 24 hours to go into a SECURE, GOA’ULD FACILITY, RETRIEVE THREE SG MEMBERS AND GET OUT. PIECE.OF.CAKE”

6 hours is a long time to sit on your hands and do nothing tho. Ah well might as well go and save the boyfriend

The president can suck a rotten potatoe

Davis, you can’t really argue with him, he outranks you about 4 times

Sam’s sleeves are too long and baggy and its SO CUTE

GO SAM

SAVE THE DAY

BUT SAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND FIRST 

Hammond visiting Chulak 

because he’s an angel baby

and the best dad ever to his four kids; Major Dr Science Space Baby, Sassy Grumpy Fruit Loop and Sam Carter Loving Space Baby, Warrior Gentle Giant Space Baby and Annoying, Doesn’t know shit, Archaeologist Space Baby.

Yas Teal’c, spill that tea

I will join you, bb

Hammond in a toga will also join you cause he a babe

and he needs your help cause Davis said No. 

HAMMOND OF TEXAS IS MY FAVOURITE THING EVER I LOVE IT 

Sam: I’m gonna go and shut this shield down

Sam: but not until I have tried to save my Future Husband. 

Poor Tok’ra lady

Hand on chest again

Fucking Hathor man

Go away boo, you’re ruining the moment 

Stop hurting Sam

YAS JACK FUCK YES I LOVE THAT

I love his response to it too

Like the shock and fear

This hug goes on a long time

I know he’s cold or whatever but like... 

and I know he’s in shock and so is she a bit

he’s doing it for her as much as him

but they’re STILL hugging

They literally never do this again

Its so sweet because after this its just... nothing? Like POV happens and then Upgrade and Divide and Conquer and they go ah fuck we can’t hug anymore so all we get is platonic shoulder holding and using shoulders as pillows. The closes we get to a hug is Death Knell and emotional trauma Threads. I want a REAL hug

And he holds her arms for ages and helps her up

Wow they’re so fucking in love this hurts

“Found ‘em” Jack stop so cute

C4! Who’d have thought it

Ah shit they’re surrounded 

He still looks good

They BOTH look good 

They make a great couple 

Nope, not really but its what ya got so you’re gonna have to deal with it

This general guy is a bit of a dick

Thats right Sam, don’t listen. Good job, Danny boy.

Only 1? Thats not a lot of time

Get out there, Jack! Buy that time

Gun Bum! (if you know Sanctuary, you’ll get it)

He’s really not doing a great job of pretending to be a Goa’uld

Its really not impossible 

ex-goddess lol 

“She’s Gone. She is no more.” I’m honestly shocked people didn’t shoot him more often 

I love him tho

Thank god, thats good timing

Hammond is IN. HIS. ELEMENT 

There is no way she heard hiom say now but she still knew. I love them. I love how well they know each other and they’ve only known each other a little over two years

Time to KICK SOME ASS

JAFFA YAS

ooh coming in from behind, sneaky

YEEHAW

OH HAMMOND YOU PRECIOUS BABY

Sam going straight to Jack and it looks like she goes to put her arm around him. 

I hate them ffs

Bra’tac and Human fuck me thats so cute

Sam’s smile when they see Teal’c and Hammond is Gorgeous

and Hammond patting her on the back! stop! I love Space Dad and his idiot Space babies. 

Final Thoughts:

Seriously guys this is my favourite Final and First eps of a season. 

100% one of my favourite two parters, if not my all time favourite two parter

Great direction, good story, excellent bad guys, good acting, just enough suspense with out being too drawn out, something for everyone, comes of the back of a fun as fuck episode (1969), Hammond has a big part, Davis is there, lots of cute Sam/Jack and of course, Daniel’s Elf Hair. 

Also the Tok’ra are actually useful in this one which is SHOCKING 

Lemme know your thoghts friends, I’m excited to hear them! 

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Banished (Part 13)

*Not my Gif*

Summary: When the 100 was sent to the ground, Y/N Y/L/N was one of them. Having been in lock up for almost 8 years, how will she react to surviving on Earth? Especially when she gets banished…

Post Date: 8-30-19

Paring: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 4K

A/N: So there are a lot of flashbacks in this of Y/N’s time in lock up so please for the love of god PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS!!!! I wanted to get as much info into the past out before the end of season 1 as I can so enjoy the awful cut scenes 😂

~Banished Master List~

~Master List~

Open Requests for The 100

Based off episode 1x13 of the 100 “We are Grounders Part 2”

WARNINGS: ATTEMPED RAPE, ABUSE, (IF THOSE ARE A TRIGGER SKIP THE FIRST ITALICS!!!)

The rancid smell of alcohol filled your lungs as he pressed you against the wall, his sweaty large hands squeezing your cheeks together as he yelled at you.

“Your parents wouldn’t have killed themselves you weren’t such a little bitch!” He screamed in your face for about the millionth time now. He’d been screaming at you for the past hour, head always moving between his friends sat one on his bed and one on yours as they each nursed their 4th bottle each since they stumbled into the room already drunk. They each laughed as your ‘legal guardian’ smacked your face, whipping your head to the side as he pushed back, leaving you pinned to the wall in fear. Two years of this shit and you know not to leave the spot after ‘Sir’, which he demanded you call him, starts his punishment which was far from over. Sir looked between the two smug souls sitting in the room before looking back to you, a drunken smirk plastered on his face as he took a wobbly step towards you.

“What do you think guys? Should we have a little fun today?” He asked as they exchanged amused looks, tipping their beers towards you both before standing up. You froze as Sir’s hand wrapped around your upper arm, his tight grip leaving finger-tipped bruises along your skin. Wincing as you were thrown onto the nearest bed, his eyes tracing up and down your body as your eyes widened when you realize what he was doing to do. Before you could protest or try to fight back, his hand was clamped around your throat, cutting off your air supply as you tried to pry him off you. He smirked as he leaned over, taking a sip of his beer as you started to see dark.

The moment he released you to gasped for a breath, coughing as the air filled you fast until you could breath normally, albeit a little shaken. His hand grasped the bottom of your shirt, pulling it straight off your head and leaving you in your ripped up jeans and a small black bra you barely needed. You heard a few snickers coming from behind Sir as he trailed a finger across your tiny body, stopping just inches from the bottom of your bra. You were scared, you were petrified! You stared up at him, meeting his darkened eyes before feeling the defeat come over you. His hand started moving again as you shut your eyes, praying for one of them to come to their senses and help you, praying for someone to knock on the door and save you, but no one did. That was when you found yourself doing something you’d never thought you’d do. You prayed for death. Here you were, 10 years old and a mans hands were traveling up along your body and you prayed to die. It seemed like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. A third hand touched your stomach as you shot your eyes open, a moment of clarity coming to you as the first thing you saw as Sir’s empty beer bottle.

You grabbed the glass bottle, adjusting the grip for a split second before ramming it against his head. He stumbled off you, pushing his buddy away from you as you scrabbled to get up. You grabbed your shirt, throwing it over your head as you made way to the door. Only for a pair of hands to pull you back.

“Let go of me! Let go!” You screamed as you thrashed around in his grip, hoping more than anything someone would hear. He wasn’t deterred by your struggles as he threw you into the bed again. Glass flew into the air as you sat on the mattress and you grabbed a large piece, getting into a fighting position you’d been taught for the last 4 years.

‘Keep your feet apart and fists up’ Kane’s voice said in your head as you complied. Sir stood up straight, wiping away the blood on his head from the bottle as he lunged at you. You dodged out of the way fast, going under his arm as you kicked his knee out. He fell to the floor fast with a groan as you turned wide eyed to his buddy. The one that didn’t touch you, had cowered up against the wall, watching the scene in front of him. His friend that laid a hand on you reached out to smack the glass shard out of your hand, only for you to move it and stab it into his head.

“Please just stop! Please!” You yelled as blood ran down his head like your tears ran down your face. He stumbled back, as Sir managed to push himself up, coming at you like a bullet as you scrambled to grab another piece of glass, turning around just in time to run the shard across his neck, deep. He took a few steps back, hands flying to his neck to try and keep the blood in before falling against the wall. The last two guards looked at you, one still holding his wounded head as the other rolled up his sleeve, ready to fight a 10 year old, he snickered as you took your stance to not go down with out a fight. He moved first.

He threw his hand to hit your face to which on instinct you dodged letting him stagger away from the force of his punch. He turned around as you landed a few punches on his stomach, causing him to double over and allowing you to land a blow to his face. You kept punching him as he hit the ground, head bouncing against the concrete before your body was ripped off him.

Footsteps flooding into the room as you tried to free yourself. Metal was on your wrists, keeping them locked behind you as you realized there was more than the three men in the room. You felt like you could finally breathe as you stared down into the face of Sir, who laid dead on the floor next to his buddy who bled out from the cut to the head and a smile came to your face. But it fell as you met the bruised and bloody face of the third man as he stared up to you and a guard stepped in between you both.

“Take her to lockup.”

Kids rushed by you as you entered the camp with Octavia on your arm, clutching to you as if your life depended on it. It seemed like chaos as you let go of Octavias arm and looked around the camp. A pair of arms landed around you and for a half of a second you were worried until Octavia smiled. You turned around and let out a sigh of relief.

“Jasper!” You whispered as you threw your arms around the boy. He reciprocated as you both embraced and you pulled away, looking around camp some more. “Where’s Monty?” You asked as you noticed his right hand man wasn’t there. His face dropped as you realized and quickly felt bad. No one said anything as you cupped his cheek with your hand, getting him to look at you as you smiled.

You moved towards the drop ship, hearing screams as you entered and saw Clarke pressing a heated blade to Ravens side.

“Let’s talk about the reapers.” Bellamy says as he turned to look at you, his eyes softening before thumbing through Lincoln’s journal again. Clarke and Finn give you a smile, happy that you didn’t leave them before focusing on Bellamy again. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” You shook your head, taking a step closer to all of them.

“Not this enemy.” You say as Finn agrees.

“She’s right, we’ve seen them. Trust us, it’s not an option.” He says before they talk about Ravens condition. You looked down at her before stretching your hand out for Lincoln’s journal. Bellamy hesitates but places it in your hand and allowing you to look through it as he watched.

“Clarke.” You said as you looked at the blonde. “We have to go. You heard Lincoln.” Bellamy scoffed as you dropped the book onto a table.

“Can’t run away fast enough huh? Real Brave.” You bite the inside of your cheek as you speak, trying not to raise your voice.

“That’s the thing Blake. When I fight I know I can win. These guys? They’re strong, but you’re gonna lead them to their deaths.” He seemed to understand you as he crossed his arms and looked down at you. Finn noticed the tension between the two of you as he stepped in to save you.

“Dying in a fight you can’t win isn’t brave Bellamy. It’s stupid.” He argued as you pointed a finger at him, looking Bellamy dead in the eyes for him to understand you’re siding with Finn. You let them hash it out as you left the drop ship, finding the one person you promised you get out of there. Luckily, she found you first.

“Hey, lets get you cleaned up.” Octavia said as she led you to the water tent. You took a seat as she wetted a rag, carefully dragging it over your face to get the dirt off before running it over the bruise that dominated your left side. She mumbled an apology as you grabbed her hand, causing her to stop washing your face.

“Octavia, we need to go. Before the scouts arrive.” You told her as she nodded, not fully understanding.

“We will, I’m sure my brother and Clarke will figure it out and we’ll be out of here fast.” She assured you. You put the rag back into the tub as you stood up to meet her height.

“Bellamy wants to fight, O. I promised Lincoln I would get you out.” She let out a little gasp at the mention of his name and you squeezed her hand, leading her outside to where Clarke and Bellamy were calling for everyone’s attention.

You hadn’t spoken for a few months, choosing to ignore any guards coming in with food as your cell mate, Victoria, stared at you. Tori was older than you, almost 18 by the time you were put in. She was always trying to get you to talk but you denied her the pleasure. You liked her, you really did, even though you didn’t talk didn’t mean she wouldn’t talk to you, tell you stories or anything really just to make the quiet room seem less frightening. You started to warm up to her, offering her more smiles and she even got you to answer her questions with head nods. But then she turned 18.

“Prisoner 153 and 194, face the wall.” A guard said as he pulled the door open. Your mind raced as you looked between her and the guard. She gave you a little smile as she looked at the wall, urging you to do the same.

“It’s okay Mouse.” She said using the nickname she came up with since you were so quiet. You kind of liked it, her giving you a name only she used. “I’ll be okay.” The guard came up behind her, putting the cuffs on her wrists as she was led away, right out of your shared cell. You hadn’t moved from the spot, choosing to stare at her for the last time before the metal door closed. You rested your head on the wall before you started pounding on the metal door.

“Kane! Marcus Kane! I want to speak to Marcus Kane!” You yelled and waited for someone to answer. When no one did you yelled again, pounding a little harder. Again. And again. Until soon your voice hurt from yelling or even talking after this long. Your hand throbbed from the pounding as you let yourself fall into your bed knowing no one was coming for you.

You walked out of camp next to Octavia with everyone, a look of hope crossing their faces as you looked around. Octavias hand landed on your shoulder as you see Bellamy speeding up to you.

“You wanna talk to him.” She asks as you pause but shrug, telling her to go on. Bellamy slows down as he meets your eye and you both walk next to each other.

“You really think fighting was the best plan?” You asked him as he looked down at you then nodded. You didn’t say anything as he swallows, trying to find the right words.

“You said it yourself, these guys are strong. They can make it.” You took a look around you, seeing the laughing and smiling kids joking around and talking about surfing as a pit formed in your stomach.

“Bellamy, I barely made it. There’s no way you would’ve won if you stayed.” He didn’t say anything as he clenched his jaw. You looked out into the woods, the quietness of it disturbing you before movement appeared in your sight line. “Shit.” You muttered before running into the front of the line, grabbing Octavia to stop her. She furrowed her brows but listened to you as everyone stopped. You stared straight ahead, trying to find anyone as whispers came from the group. A whizzing happened right by your head before the kid next to you fell dead.

“Get back to camp!” You yelled alongside Bellamy who kept shouting for everyone to go. You pulled out an arrow, readying your bow as you looked for anyone or anything to shoot. Bellamy saw you not move and rushed to get you.

“Come on Y/N! We have to go! I’m not leaving you again!” He yelled as you obliged, following him back to camp.

“I want to speak to Marcus Kane.” You mumbled as the guard came in to bring you food. He ignored your request, leaving almost as swiftly as when he entered and you groaned. 3 years in here, everyday calling for Kane and no one will tell you where he was. It made you sick. You looked down at the food, noticing they cut your rations down as you turned to the door. “Hey! Where’s the rest of my food huh?” You yelled as a snicker came from outside. You clenched your firsts together, banging even harder until the door swung open.

“Prisoner 194, face the wall.” He said as you shook your head, standing your ground.

“I want to speak to Kane.” You demanded as he stared at you. He took a step closer and you repeated yourself. “I want to speak to Marcus Kane.”

He pulled out his weapon, holding it out to his side as your face fell.

“Please. I just to talk to him.” You pleaded as he cocked his head.

“Sorry Sweetheart, Kane doesn’t want to talk to you. Now face the wall.” He said as you stood completely still. He didn’t want to talk to you? They told him you had been asking for him for 3 years and he said no? Your thoughts your cut short by the Guard as he struck you with the weapon, causing you to convulse in pain and pass out.

You listened to Bellamy and Clarke argue what to do as you stayed back, watching the trees for anything.

“You said it yourself, I’m a grounder.” Octavia said from behind you as you watched her take off out of camp. Bellamy watched her leave before turning to you.

“Y/N...”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off, placing your hand on his arm. “I’ll watch out for her.” You took off after her, not noticing the way Bellamy watched you leave the camp for the second time without saying goodbye. His stomach churned at the thought of losing either of you or Octavia, but he knew he couldn’t focus on that right now.

You dashed through the woods keeping up with Octavia before you fired a few arrows at some grounders and watched as they fell. Octavia ran ahead with her sword, stabbing someone in the head as they moved to uncover Bellamy. You were by his side quick, checking his neck as he looked from Octavia to you. His sister helped him up before she let out a small scream, clutching her leg where an arrow was planted. Your eyes widened as you turned around, shooting an arrow right into the eye of someone aiming at you.

“Octavia you’re hit, Bellamy help me get her behind the wall!” You ordered as he listened, throwing her arm over your shoulder and his as you dragged her to safety.

Grounders surrounded you as you looked down at Octavia and Bellamy, seeing the fear in their eyes as you picked up your quiver. “7 arrows.” You told yourself as you stood, looking at the grounders try to overtake the camp. Bellamy grabbed your hand as you looked down, seeing it bloody from Octavias leg.

“Where are you going?” He asked, voice shaking as a boom sounded above you both. You looked up into the night sky, lighting up in flames as realization struck you.

“The ark is coming down.” You whispered as you watched it, turning your attention to the siblings next to you. “I’m gonna fight for our lives.” You said as you started to make your way to the gate.

“Y/N!” Bellamy yelled as he left his sister to stop you again lacing his fingers with yours. “Come back safe. Okay?” He begged as you met his dark brown eyes, something hidden behind them that proved to you he meant it. You nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “May we meet again.” You whispered in his ear before taking off, letting your hand slowly drift out of his.

You stood in your cell, staring up at the ceiling as the sound of guards changing outside caught your attention. You moved towards the door, knocking lightly as one of the guards asked what you wanted. “Does he want to talk yet?” You whispered as he sighed, letting you know the answer just in that as you pushed yourself away. He never visited, no one ever did. You only had yourself and the guards, reliving the same day over and over again. You wake up, practiced your fighting against your bed, ate the cut rations they gave you, read a little, asked about Kane, then sat in silence. You didn’t even feel like a human anymore. You pressed the back of your head against the wall you leaned on before turning around, staring at the same cracks you had for the last 5 years. It made you sick. You traced over the crack, feeling the way the wall felt under your nails before you slammed your fist into it. You pulled away, seeing the red on your knuckles before you continued. Again and again and again until your knuckles bled and the guards rushed into your room. But you didn’t stop. Not until the same guard as last time struck you with his shock baton.

“Don’t let her do that anymore.” He ordered as he looked at your passed out body then to the blood on the wall and shook his head.

“Where are you going?” The other guard asked him when he began to leave the room.

“I’m going to go speak to Marcus Kane.”

You already used almost all of your arrows, leaving you with one by the time the reaper screams drew your attention, causing you to duck behind a tree. “Shit!” You yelled as a grounder came out from behind another tree. He was to close to use your bow so you grabbed your dagger, nailing him in the heart as he fell. Another grounder came around the corner, slashing down your right arm and causing you to drop your knife. He moves to hit you again as you duck, picking up the knife as you finish him quick. You press up against the tree as more movement occurs and you ready yourself, jumping out only to see Octavia being carried by Lincoln.

You don’t say anything as you smile, happy to see him alive and getting Octavia out of there. He nods his head in your direction, as he sticks out one of his hands.

“Leidon, Lincoln.” You whisper hoping this wasn’t your final goodbye. He returns the saying before running away with Octavia. You head towards the drop ship, taking out as many grounders as you can before you see Clarke in front and other delinquents still fighting.

“Get to the ship!” You yelled at the closest kid to you, taking their position against the grounder and moving on when that one was dead. “Go! Now!” You kept telling any kids you saw before Someone yelled your name.

“Y/N!” You heard as you spun around seeing Bellamy staring right at you from the other side of the camp. The sound of the drop ship doors closing caught your attention as you realized you were both stuck out here. You were about to take a step towards him before a sharp pain in your stomach stopped you. You looked down as a spear pierced right through you from a grounder. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as Bellamy screamed your name and you fell to your knees. You closed your eyes, trying to mask the pain as the grounder fell, some delinquent you never met standing over you. The sounds of the fight was drowned out as everyone around you started screaming to run. Bellamy tried to come closer to you, but you shook your head, trying everything you could not to pass out right now.

“Go! It’s okay.” You mouthed to him as he started to cry before Finn grabbed his jacket, pulling him away from the ship. It took only a second before your legs started working and you managed to push yourself up. The spear stuck out of you, making every step dangerously close to being your last as you held onto the wall for support. You knew it was only a matter of time before the ship blew and you knew if you had any chance of staying alive you needed to not be in the vicinity. You hobbled past the gate a few feet before your legs gave out and you fell to the ground with a scream. But the sound was overtaken by the drop ship, lighting up and barbecuing grounders. The heat of the flames burned on your face as you closed your eyes, letting the warmth wash over you before darkness.

“Prisoner 194, face the wall.” The guard said as you tossed your book to the side, throwing your legs over the side of your bed.

“What’s going on?” You asked as a pair of handcuffs came out and your throat dried up. “No. I still have a day.” You stood up, taking a few steps away from the two guards as you looked between. “I still have a day! It’s not my time!” You yelled as one of them, turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. You tried to fight back before the feeling of metal hit your skin and you stopped fighting, letting your head rest on the wall as the guard smirked.

“You’re not being executed. You’re being sent to Earth.” He said as you turned to look at him.

Earth?

Part 14?

What did you think? Let me know how I’m doing! 😊

All Taglists Open

(Strikeout means I couldn’t tag! Let me know you want to be added or if any are wrong!)

Permanent: @literal-fand0m-trash @just4muggles @saturn-aka-six @nathaliabakes @whyamihere-bro @colored-confetti @wiseeggspickleslime @sadn0va @btsiguess-kpop @galacticstxrdust @independentgirl

Banished: @jodiereedus22 @kawennote09 @iamaunicorn4704 @im-a-stranger-thing @elsie2018 @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @strangerliaa @frederikkeborup @a-sweet-little-fangirl @divadinag @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo @poisoned-girl @cxddlyash @captainam-erika-trash @waitingtobeimpressed @annoylinglyaries @purple-alien-monkey @peqchynero @buckysjuicyplums @somethingdawn @nerdbookish @spxcekru @yessii-i @amongthewildthingss @angelenemies @itsanallygator @your-typical-giggle @jelly-bean8383-blog @im-a-writer-sometimes @thelastdragon6 @hippieballls @savannah0111 @mckeeee-1

Bellamy: @jodiereedus22 @nyxxxwtp @danielabetancourth

[new2fivesauce]

Please Don’t Regret Me - 3. Bad News First

Please Don’t Regret Me - 3. Bad News First

Warnings: Cursing

March 2018 - 5sos III Tour

If there was anything worse than a delayed flight, it was definitely a luggage conveyor. LAX just had to have the slowest working conveyor of all time. Nelle tapped her foot impatiently. She had two suitcases placed beside her; She needed three more before she could leave the place. She tapped away on her phone, ordering an Uber to pick her and the men of her life up. She glanced at the luggage belt, looking for black suitcases with either orange, red, or blue duct tape on the handles. Nothing.

Uber confirmed her ride and she sheathed her phone into the back pocket of her ripped black jeans. She yawned into the sleeve of her oversized black hoodie. The flight from Milan to Los Angeles had her extremely jet lag. The beginning leg of the III Tour already had her running on nothing but coffee and energy drinks with the occasional instant ramen or breakfast pastry. She needed real food asap.

She took a look behind her to see that Ashton, Michael, Calum, and Luke were not as affected by the different time zones. They were goofing around, playing hide and seek behind the airport benches and fake plants. Her eyes lingered on Luke. He was crouched down behind a pillar, his mouth covered by the sleeve of his jacket to contain his laughter as Ashton wandered around the area looking for him.

She couldn’t help thinking about the past couple of days that they’d been traveling Europe. Luke had bunked in her room 3 nights and had fought to get to sit next to her on their flight to LA. He had pushed Calum out the way, forcing him to sit between Ashton and Michael. Their nights they’d spent together were no different than the night following the release of Want You Back. They were spent watching Netflix, eating food, and innocently flirting with one another. Thinking of those nights gave Nelle butterflies and made her head feel light. What was the deal with Luke?

He was just Luke. Calum’s best friend. He was a jerk sometimes when he was hungry or sleepy. He liked pho and croissants. He was a blond giant who before only conversed with Nelle when he needed to. He wasn't mean to her or ever lashed out at her when something didn’t go his way. She assumed he just knew that her job was basically to babysit them and get them from point A to point B with the occasional errand here and there. Now he was insistent on them being partnered up for everything, but never made it obvious to his bandmates. For a moment, Nelle thought it was part of a cruel prank, but figured that Calum would never let him to do that her; Calum was extremely protective of Nelle. He’d probably disband the lot if Luke ever did something so malicious.

She shook her head. She needed to get it together. And quickly.

---

“Again.” Johnny, the sound producer, mumbled into the microphone. Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the headphones around his head. This was the ninth again he’d heard in an hour. He huffed loudly into the mic on accident causing a high pitch ring to resonate through his booth and the sound board room. A series of Fuck, Luke and Ouch ran through the music booth.

“Sorry, sorry." He grumbled though not sincerely. “Can I get a break?” He asked looking to his bandmates through the glass that separated them. “Perhaps Cal could come in here instead and work on Babylon?” His voice was hoarse and exasperated. He didn’t even want to be here, but he was supposed to be because Calum said so. Because their manager had called them and said their album needed more work. Because Michael didn’t think it was complete. Because Ashton wrote one more song. Because he needed to rewrite and sing new verses.

Calum stood up from his spot, holding up his middle finger at his bandmate with a lopsided grin.  He waved for Luke to come out the booth. Luke sighed, relieved.

The two passed each other up as one went in and the other went out. Ashton eyed Luke curiously as the curly-haired fellow went to drop himself into the armchair Calum had just unoccupied.

Luke felt exhausted. Their short number of shows in Europe and the flight from Milan had finally caught up to him, but that wasn’t the only thing eating at him. After flying into LA and checking into their hotel for the next few days before flying to Paris, Nelle left. No explanation or anything.

He knew it shouldn’t have bothered him because she didn’t have to explain herself to him, but he thought they’d been doing so well lately. She’d been endlessly playful and flirty with him. Every time she looked his way, he felt so light, like there was no pressure on him; that he was definitely and rightfully okay. Now, since arriving in California, not even a text had been exchanged between the two. He couldn’t decide whether to be worried or not.

There was a SNAP causing Luke to blink furiously and focus on his surroundings. Michael was standing in front him, his hand still extended in the end position of his finger snap.

“What the fuck has gotten into you?” he asked. Luke scoffed, turning his face away. He mumbled a small nothing. “Bull shit.” Michael declared. “Spill…”

Luke had to face Michael now. He sized his buddy up, eyeing him up and down and even bucked at him, but Michael didn’t even flinch. Instead…

“Spill… or I tell Cal you have the hots for Nelle.”

Ashton, who was mid-sip of his iced coffee, began choking. He gasped desperately, pounding the front of his chest with no help from Luke or Michael.

“Dude!” Ashton wheezed. Michael ignored Ashton and stayed focused on Luke.

“So the fuck what?” Luke finally stated. At this point, there was no point in lying. They were going to find out sooner or later just how he had found out when they both had crushes on her.

Michael stepped back, stunned that it took so little effort to get Luke to admit that he liked Nelle. He’d expected more fight. Luke was always on defense when it came to his feelings, especially feelings for girls. He ran a hand through his knotted hair.

“Uhh. Wow. I don’t really know what to say anymore.” Michael went to sit back down next to Ashton. “I guess you can take it from here, Irwin.”

Ashton sat up straight, clearing his throat. “So… Hemmo… what the actual fuck?! Look… take this from our experience of having loved… and still love the most beautiful creature to walk the face of the planet… Calum will hang you if you even so much as look at her the wrong way. I'm surprised he hasn’t caught you making puppy eyes at her... How long has this been going on? This is all rather intriguing and downright confusing.”

With a roll of his eyes and shrug, Luke disregarded everything Ashton said.

“It’s been made pretty clear that she’s not interested in us. She refused the both of you and you, Ash, are probably the most compatible with her. I don’t see how I would be an exception.” He declared, a heavy weight on his heart.

Ashton and Michael shared a brief, but knowing,  glance with one another.

“I don’t know, mate.” Michael began. “I never seen Nelle look at anyone the way she looks at you."

That, there, it wasn’t exactly what Luke wanted to hear, but at the same time, it was exactly what he needed to hear. His heart skipped a beat and he felt light for a moment.

---

Luke trudged through the hotel lobby, hanging back from the other three. Michael, Calum, and Ashton were being boisterous, making the hotel guests and employees look their way as they joked and laughed heartily.

“Dude, c’mon!” Ashton stopped, pulling his two buds by the shirts to get them to stop walking. They waited for Luke to catch up with them. Since their recording session and getting Luke to admit his feelings about Nelle, Ashton had noticed Luke’s attitude had gone to nearly depressed. Calum was curious and had asked what was the matter, but everyone stayed tight-lipped.

Luke pulled his phone out of his pocket, checked to see if he had any notifications, and when he didn’t, he stuffed it back into his pocket.

“I really don’t want to go to Harry’s rager.” Luke mumbled, not bothering to look any of his mates in the eyes. Michael bumped him in the shoulder.

“Serious? Harry Styles is throwing the party of the year and you’re just gonna… not go?”

Luke shrugged. Calum narrowed his eyes at the guy, but didn’t say anything.

“The last time we partied with him, I ended up two cities over with no pants. I think I'm good.” Luke stated. “I think I'll just work on some music.”

Ashton scoffed at this.

“Wooow. You didn’t do shit today in the studio, gave up halfway, and now you want to--"

Calum held his hand over Ashton’s mouth to stop talking. He tried to pry Calum’s hand off his face but failed.

“If you want to stay here, go ahead.” Calum told him. Luke nodded in appreciation and began to turn his feet towards the elevators. They went their separate ways after Michael ran back to Luke to give him a quick hug and kiss on his head.

When Luke was sure that they were gone, he strayed away from the elevators and went to the front desk.

The brunette receptionist glanced over her glasses at Luke. He stood there, nervously, not really sure what to say or do since he was never the one to check them in when they arrived at hotels.

The woman cleared her throat, looking at Luke unamused. “Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Her voice super monotone.

Luke rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, the edge of his neck ran pink from the nerves. He felt his palms growing sweaty. His heart thumped against his chest hard. He could feel his vision closing in, an anxiety attack ensuing…

“My assistant… she checked us in this morning but didn’t tell me what room she was in. I need my room key from her.” Luke managed to say after a few breaths. It was a lie. He had his room key, but Nelle hadn’t told him nor the others what her room was. Right now, he needed to be with her. He wanted to talk to her. The lady, who’s nametag read Monica, raised an eyebrow.

“Do you have your ID?” she asked. Luke nodded rapidly, fumbling with his hands to reach into his back pocket of his black pants. He handed his ID to her and she typed away on her computer.

“Her name is Nelle. N-Nelle Padilla.” Luke stuttered. “My friend’s names are Calum Hood, Michael Clifford, and Ashton Irwin. We would have all been checked in at the same time.”

Monica looked at him, not entirely sure to believe him, but with a shrug of her shoulders, keyed in the names he gave off. She passed his identification back to him. “I have your friend’s names, but the first one doesn’t come up.” She told him.

Luke shook his head. He clearly remembered Nelle checking them all in. She hated LA. She wouldn’t stay anywhere else without them.

Something suddenly clicked. “Wait… could you try Eleanor Padilla?” He grimaced afterwards. He’d just found out her real first name days ago. It was a shock to him since everyone… like literally everyone only called her Nelle. The name was foreign on his tongue. He hoped to never say it again.

The receptionist tried again, typing quickly for there was a couple standing behind Luke now, ready to check in. She shook her head.

“Sorry. That one doesn’t come up either.”

Luke thanked her for her time. He headed back to the elevators, sad, confused, and downright annoyed.

His anxiety was gone. Now he was just irritated. He made his way to his floor, still wondering where Nelle could have gone. He checked his phone, his fingers lingering over the screen on their text conversation.

Where R you? Hazza is throwing a party. U down?

He stared at his text unsure if he should send it. He didn’t want to go to that dumb party, but if it got a response from Nelle, then it was worth it. He rethought the wording then deleted it as he got to his room. He let himself in. The lights were on. He furrowed his brows; he knew he’d turned them off before they’d left for the studio earlier. He entered cautiously, aware that the TV was on as well.

Stepping into the main part of his room, he sighed of relief.

Nelle was sitting on the bed, a pillow already placed in the middle of it splitting their sides. Her hair was damp so she’d had to have just gotten out the shower. It was drying into her waves. For the longest, Luke had thought she had straight hair. Now in the recent weeks of getting to know her, he now knew that it was naturally wavy. He decided he liked it like that best.

Nelle smiled at Luke; it wasn’t her typical genuine wide smile, but a small, closed lipped one. Her eyes looked sad but he didn’t want to question it. He was just glad that she was here. And Nelle was glad he was there too. She had been MIA all day since arriving in LA that morning. She’d sent the boys to the studio, leaving herself to have a meeting with their manager. The meeting had ran long, almost all day and part of the evening. She was mentally drained. She wanted to tell Luke about it but the second he’d walked in, she found herself suddenly feeling guilty and cowardly.

“I missed you today.” Luke mused, looking over at her. Nelle eyed Luke, her amber eyes trying to read his blue ones. He was being sincere. Nelle lowered her eyes, afraid to give her emotions away.

“Missed you too.” She mumbled back.

------

It was a sunny, cool morning in LA. It was 24 hours until their departure to France. Nelle wandered through the streets of Los Angeles, a coffee tray and a bag of bagels in her hands. 5SOS was back in the studio today for a bit. Every minute for the next 24 hours was booked solid and Nelle was determined to not let anything slip through the cracks, even when California always treated her unwell.

She made it the studio building with her arms full and without spilling a drop of anything. The girl at the front desk said hello to her as she carefully made her way to the elevators.

Ironically, the guys were located on the fifth floor. Anything in regards to the number five was almost always a good sign according to Ashton, who believed in that kind of good luck/bad luck thing. Nelle sped down the hallway to the studio room.

Michael was the first to see her through the thick glass door. He jumped off the recliner he was lounging in and hopped over Ashton’s body on the floor to open the door for her. Nelle entered the studio, trekking over Ashton’s legs, to set the coffees and bagels on the table next to the recliner Michael had just left empty.

“Luke just stepped outside. Cal is in the booth.” Ashton said as he raised his body from the floor to get himself a bagel. Michael was already an arm deep into the bag of round bread when Nelle chastised him.

“If you’re gonna get a poppy seed bagel, you better eat the seeds, Michael.”

Michael mumbled something under his breath before pulling a plain bagel out the bag. He grabbed the coffee with his name on it from the tray and went back to his recliner.

Seconds later, Luke walked back into the studio room and Calum entered from the booth. Johnny, the producer excused himself to make a phone call and to run down the street to the nearest McDonald's.

The room was quiet for a while as everyone ate and drank. Luke kept glancing at Nelle who was sitting next to Ashton on the loveseat couch. She could have sat between him and Calum on the long couch. He pushed that bit of jealously down with the gulp of his coffee but it quickly rose up again as Ashton put one of his hands on Nelle’s thigh. It was an innocent gesture, but his hand was pretty high on her leg and he couldn't help but feel slightly green. It also didn’t help that they were whispering amongst each other with their faces pretty close.

When everyone was finished eating, Nelle stood up from her spot next to Ashton. She picked up the boys’ trash, putting it all in the bag that it had come in. She cleared her throat afterwards and all four of them looked in her direction. She stood awkwardly in the middle of floor, pulling the Led Zeppelin shirt she’d borrow from Luke that morning tight around middle. Luke noticed the way the shirt now clung around her curves and his mind flashed back to that morning when he’d woken up to see Nelle hopping around the hotel room, struggling to pull her pants over the curvature of her hips and ass. Luke hadn’t meant to stare, but he had and when she’d finally succeeded in buttoning her pants, he pretended to be asleep to give him some time for his prick to go down.

“Everyone…” Nelle announced. “I have an announcement to make.”  

Calum looked worried. The way Nelle had said that made goosebumps raise on his body. He shuddered as Nelle cleared her throat to keep talking.

She let out a deep breath, eyed Calum for a brief second for some quick reassurance and then spoke, trying hard to not let her voice break. “I… I am not joining you for the rest of this tour… I am not going on promo for the next single… and I am not going on tour for Youngblood.”

Blue, green, hazel, and brown eyes all widened in shock. The room was dead silent except for the vibration of someone’s phone but no one dared to move.

Michael seemed the first to react as his body collapsed backwards into the recliner, his eyes watering immediately. Ashton groaned in discontent.

“Is this some type of joke?” Calum asked. His eyes darted around the room to his mates; Luke had an unreadable expression and Nelle was not sure what to make of it. He seemed not phased at all.

“It’s not…” Nelle replied. “I—“

“What the fuck!?” Michael interrupted her. “What do you mean you’re not coming with us? This is a bit fucked up, Nelle! We’re in the middle of a fucking tour. We’re about to release our third album and you’re just gonna drop this shitty ass bomb on us like that!”

Nelle had not expected Michael to react so angrily. In fact, she had mentally prepared herself for Ashton to be the one to get mad, not Michael.

“It’s been a long time coming, Clifford. Did you really think I wasn’t ever going to leave? I mean… compared to other assistants we’ve come across, I’ve been around a lifetime… but I need to do my own thing. I’ve been putting the four of you ahead of my own life for almost six years now. I have to do this for my own good.” Nelle clarified but the more she spoke, the more it upset Michael. Ashton scoffed whereas Calum shook his head.

“So we’re a nuisance to you now.” Michael chuckled coldly. “Wow… I can’t even look at you right now.”

Nelle neared Michael, but Ashton gave her a warning look. “Look… I don’t want to leave, but lately it’s just been so much, so fast, and I’m tired. It’s hard to keep my own life organized when I have to organize four other peoples’ lives as well. I haven’t done anything for myself since I decided to come along with you guys. I got into Yale last fall…”

Calum gawked at her. “What the hell? Why didn’t you say anything, Nelle?”

“I did.” She shrugged. “You all were too busy beginning the new album. I got in, they understood my situation, and I’ve been doing online classes since we travel too much for me to attend actual classes.

“You know I love you, all of you” She met Michael’s eyes when she said this and Luke felt a slight pang in his heart. Why didn’t she look at him? “But… that break before you started the new album, getting into this prestigious university, it just made me realize that I need to put myself first now. I wouldn’t take back anything in all these years, but…”

“Can you just get out?” Ashton finally spoke, his voice on the edge of breaking, but he spoke with a cold force that made Calum double-glance at him to make sure it was him speaking. Nelle turned towards Ashton, her heart cracking, a huge lump in her throat. “We don’t need to know why… just fucking go. We’ll call Richard and figure all of this out on our own.” Ashton shooed her away towards the door.

Nelle took another look at the four of them. No one else said anything else, not even Calum, who had always been there besides her and took her side. She tried to meet Luke’s eyes, but he was turned away from her. She inhaled deeply, holding in her tears, and she left.

<<>> 

When the glass door was shut and Nelle was out of sight, Luke turned on Calum.

“WOW! And I thought you were her brother.” He mocked. Calum straightened up real quick, his brows creased.

“You didn’t say shit! Don’t come at me!” Calum argued. “What the fuck did you do to her to make her want to leave?”

Ashton’s eyes darted between the two and then to Michael. Michael, though still incredibly upset, suddenly felt troubled. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so upset.

“I didn’t do anything. Maybe it was you selfish assholes.” Luke voiced back. “She does so much for us and we couldn’t even return the fucking favor.”

Luke’s statement made all three of them lower their heads in guilt. He wasn’t wrong, yet no one bothered to admit it. Luke stood up hastily, his footsteps heavy as he walked towards the door.

“I’m not gonna let her leave on bad terms. She deserves the fucking world for everything’s she’s done for us.” He said. Calum sneered.

“Since when do you care so much about her?” he asked. Luke rolled his eyes.

“Since when have you stopped?” Luke shot back before he left.

<<>> 

Nelle stopped before the elevators, her emotions getting the best of her. She leaned back on the wall across the elevators, between two potted plants. Her tears guzzling out before she could stop them. This was not the reaction she had expected.

She knew they were going to be upset, but she hadn’t known they were going to be outraged by her departure. She wanted her last moments to be hugs and kisses and I going to miss you. She hadn’t anticipated getting practically kicked out. She’d wanted to spend the rest of the day together, even if it was going to be spent working. She wanted to drop them off at the airport before they left for France and her Australia. She wanted to make sure their new assistant who was going to be at the airport waiting for them knew every single thing about them because she wanted to make sure they were in safe hands.

She let out a loud sob, forcing herself to rub her face with her hands to clean away the tears. She sniffled, wishing she’d thought to bring her purse because she was really in dire need of tissues and there was no way she was going to wipe her face on Luke’s shirt. She inhaled and exhaled the way she’d taught the guys how to when they got too anxious. Her head was bowed down with her eyes closed, but when she finally felt calm and her tears were now just silent trickles, she opened them up.

She glanced up quickly after noticing a pair of black boots in front of her own. Her wet tawny eyes met a pair of cerulean blues; her body buckled forward and luckily Luke had expected it. He caught her and held her close. This was the first time he’d ever hugged her… and the last his mind was quick to remind him.

Nelle drew in Luke’s scent, the same clean, zesty smell that been clingy to her, his, shirt all day. She pulled away from him, but stayed close enough to where he could keep his arms around her.

“I’m sorry for the way they were…” Luke whispered down to her, his forehead pressing against hers. Their noses touched and it took nearly everything in Nelle’s body to keep her from tippy-toeing up just a few centimeters to capture his lips. She wasn’t going to lie to herself and pretend that she didn’t find Luke attractive. She’d been doing all she could to distract herself from that fact especially in these days that they’d finally become friends. She was keeping her feelings at bay because she had already thought of quitting for a long time. That was why she couldn’t date within the band she always told herself. But Luke was different.

“I’m sorry I dropped the news like this.” She told him back. Luke shook his head when he noticed Nelle’s eyes watering again. He pressed her face into his shoulder, squeezing her body gently for comfort. It took a few seconds for Nelle to calm herself again. She dragged her body away from Luke’s again, this time completely. She couldn’t think straight with him so close.

“I need to go.” She said rashly. Luke looked at her with sad eyes just as Nelle tried to speed off. She managed to push the down button for the elevator before Luke could react. He reached out, grabbing her hand and pulled her back to him. Nelle yanked her hand away, Luke’s face dismayed by her rebuff.

“I don’t want to start anything we can’t finish.” She uttered just as the elevator doors opened. She stepped back into the metal box, pushed the Close Door button quickly before pressing the 1st floor button. She gave him a single wave just as the doors closed. He didn’t even get to wave back.

[imjustforthefandoms]

Sander Sides (Psych Ward AU)

"It's great to have a new member of the family here. Few people want to go into this line of work y'know?" Emile said happily and he shook Thomas's hand. "We are gonna have a lot of fun, I just know it!"         "Well, helping people is my thing. Might as well make money doing what I know right?" Thomas replied with a half chuckle.         "You've come to the right place then. You'll be helping people all day long." Emile said. Looking down at his clipboard, he let out an 'oh' sound before looking back up at Thomas with a bright smile. "Follow me, I'll show you to your assignments." He pushed opened the white doors that connected the lobby to the rest of the psychiatric ward. "Did they 'give you the sitch' on how the system here?"           "A bit," Thomas said with a chuckle at the joke. "Nurses work with groups of people to build familiarity right?" Thomas said as he followed the doctor in front of him.           "Right on. Trust is important for these kinds of things you know. We like to think of this place like one big Ohana. And you know what ohana means?" Emile asked, glancing back at Thomas.            "Ohana means family. And family means no one gets left behind," Thomas replied.            "Or forgotten," Emile added. He stopped in front of one of the many doors in the hallway. "Here's the suite. All of your assignments are here. You ready to meet your family?" He asked, hand on the doorknob. With a solid nod from Thomas, Emile twisted the knob, opening the door to what seemed like a living room of sorts. A couch on the right side, a TV set on the left wall with two windows on either side of it, a and a coffee table in the middle of the room. On the back wall were three doors and a staircase leading to another floor.             "Think of it as a dorm. You'll talk to your patients here in the common room. I wouldn't go into their rooms. Even I haven’t jumped in that rabbit hole.” Emile was interrupted by one of the doors opening. The dark blue door opened to reveal a tall man in a black shirt and pants. He wore a blue and black striped necktie holding a book. He wore a pair of black Warber Parker glasses, glaring at Thomas and Emile.

       “A new arrival? Our last therapist could barely manage us as it is. I expected better of you.” the man said before walking over to the couch and began reading.                                                                                                                          “Now, Logan we talked about positive observations. And this, “ Emile said, gesturing to Thomas. “ is your new therapist. His name is Thomas.”                            “His name won’t matter in the end, but fine,” the man said, closing his book. He stood up and approached Thomas. “Logan Williams. Your existence is inconsequential.” He extends his hand in greeting, Thomas gladly accepting the offer.                                                                                                                               “Glad to meet you,” Thomas replied. The glare never left Logan’s face as he returned to the couch and opened his book once again just as another one of the doors slammed open.                                                                                                “Picani! I swear you come later and later to our meetups,  you know the others don’t work together if you're not here.” said the man walking out of the red door. He wore a white prince outfit with golden decorations on both the chest and shoulders. A bright red sash draped from his shoulder to his waist. He ran a hand through his short brown locks as he walked toward Emile. “Microsoft Nerd over here doesn’t listen to a word I say, Dad can’t focus on anything long enough to keep a conversation and don’t get me started on the others.”  He sighed before flashing a bright smile. “But now you’re here so you can listen to me.”                                                                                                                                  “Roman, you can’t force yourself into other people’s bubbles, you’ll pop them.” Emile replied, giving a wave of his finger as an extra ‘no’. “I want you to your new therapist, Thomas.” Roman gave a bright smile before turning to Thomas.                                                                                                                              “Amazing! Hopefully, you'll stay a little longer than our last one. I am Really Obviously Muscular And Nice. Or Roman Royals for short.” Roman said with a wink and a bow. Thomas gave a short laugh before returning the bow. As Roman stood back up, he turned to Emile. “So if he’s here, “he began, pointing to Thomas, “does that mean that you won’t be coming back? Because you are the only one who really pays any attention to me.”                                                            “Don’t worry, Ro. I’ll be back at the end of the day. You can just call me Perry the platypus” Emile replied with a bright grin.                                                          “Thank fairy Godmother for that,” Roman replied before turning back to Thomas. “Now then, I bet you want to learn all about me, don’t you? We will be spending a LOT of time together, so you’ll want to know everything. Well, I’ll start from the begin-”                                                                                                                  “No one wants to hear you talk about yourself for an hour straight.” Logan interrupted from the couch, eyes never leaving his book. Roman scoffed at the man on the couch.                                                                                                            “You’re just jealous of my superiority, Book Germ.’ Roman replied as he glared at Logan, but received no response. Roman stomped over to him, arms crossed. “Don’t you know that ignoring royalty is punishable by death?”                           “Just because you wear that ridiculous outfit doesn’t mean that you're actually a prince,” Logan replied, eyes never leaving the book. Roman gave a loud exasperated sigh before turning back to Thomas and Emile. “You see this is why our last guy left us. Calculator Watch over here doesn’t know what kindness is.”                                                                                                                                  “The quality of being friendly, generous, and considerate. I know what it is, but it isn’t necessary at the moment,” The two continued to go back and forth, Logan’s eyes never leaving his book while Roman seemed to get more enraged by the second. As the two bickered on, the light blue door creaked open. Out walked a young man in a light blue shirt and grey cardigan wrapped around his shoulders, a pair of brown khakis on his legs. Bright eyes beamed through black-rimmed glasses at Thomas and Emile. A gasp escaped his mouth and was replaced by a smile.                                                                                                    “Oh my goodness. It’s a new person!” He cheered, rushing over to Thomas until he was practically right under his nose. “Are you our new therapist? Our last one left in a week. Don’t know why though. Did you know him? He was nice. But he didn’t talk a lot. At least I don’t think-”                                      “Pat. Don’t talk as fast as you type.” Emile said with a chuckle. Pat let out an ‘oh’ before covering his mouth but continued to rock on his heels. “Why don’t you introduce yourself  to your new therapist Thomas?” And remember, slow and steady like a turtle.” Patton responded with excited nods before taking his hand off of his mouth.                            ��                                                                           “My. Name. Is. Patton. Smith.” Patton said spacing out his words.                         “Thomas Sanders, it's a pleasure to meet y-.” Thomas couldn’t finish his sentence before he was gripped tightly in a hug from Patton, who was laughing joyously.                                                                                                                             “Oh, it feels great to hug someone new! Logan never hugs back and Roman’s hugs all feel the same. Do you like hugs? I love hugs. I wish I could hug everyone in the world!” Roman scoffed at this, turning his attention from Logan to Patton.                                                                                                                  “Pat. I thought you loved my hugs.” he pouted. Patton let out a gasp, letting go of Thomas in exchange for Roman.                                                                    “No, I still love your hugs. Don’t be upset. I still love you buddy” he said while hugging Roman tightly. Emile let out a chuckle as the scene unfolded before putting a hand on Thomas’s shoulder.                                                                      “Well, this is your main group of patients. I bet you’ll all get along just fine. You’ll be the Arthur to their round table!” He said proudly.                                        “One, our table is square, not round. Two, you forgot about the ones upstairs. Virgil won’t be happy about this.” Logan said, peeking out from his book. Emile's smile shrunk at this.                                                                                     “Right. I'm gonna have to tell him.” He turned to Thomas, reluctance painting his expression. “You technically have other patients.You won’t see most of them often, but Virgil has begun to come down for our sessions. In fact,” Emile looked at his watch; 3:45. “He should be coming down around now. We’ve been working on his consistency.” At that, a creaking was heard from the stairwell. Down the stair came a young-looking man in black ripped jeans. He wore a black hooded jacket with various purple plaid patches on the sleeves and back on top of a purple t-shirt. Thomas couldn’t tell if he was wearing eyeliner or had bags under his eyes, the dark patches standing out again the man’s pale skin. His eyes were too focused on the stairs under his feet to notice Thomas at first.                                                                                                                                     “Oh great, My Chemically Imbalanced romance is here.” Roman scowled.                                                                                                                             “I’m just here for the session, Princey. I’ll leave after we finish." said the man coming down the stairs. "What are we working on today, doc?" The man raised his head to look at Emile and froze when he saw Thomas next to him. His grip tightened on the handrail as he closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths before opening them again. His eyes fell on Thomas once again and he let out a low chuckle. “Doctor, this one’s not going away.”                                                               “Virgil, this is your new therapist, Thomas.” Emile, said, his voice noticeably softer than before. Virgil lowered his eyes to the floor before speaking again.                                                                                                                                 “Y’know, Doc. I came here for help, and all I’ve gotten are people running from me.” His grip on the handrail grew tighter. “He’s going to leave us. And you’re never gonna let us out. We’re going to die here as mistakes, aren’t we doc? ”                                                                                                                                “Virgil, breathe,” Emile said, drawing closer to Virgil, who was visibly shaking at this point. “Those thoughts don’t hold water. Repeat after me, okay?” Emile put a hand on Virgil's arm. “We are here to help you. Nothing bad is going to happen to you.” The two went back and forth, Virgil’s quaking diminishing as they continued. With one last deep breath, the two separated, Virgil calmed and a smile of Emile’s face. Virgil looked past Emile towards Thomas, who offered a small wave.                                                                                                                         “He’s real, right?” Virgil asked quietly, receiving a nod from Emile. He took another breath before walking towards Thomas, stopping about a foot in front of him. “Virgil Para,” he said. Despite the lack of emotion on Virgil’s face, Thomas answered with a bright smile.                                                                                 “Thomas Sanders. I’m happy I get to work with you.”                                             “That’ll change,” Virgil replied before turning and walking towards the staircase, promptly sitting on the two lowest steps. “Are we still doing a session today doc?”                                                                                                                           “That depends on Thomas.” Emile turned back to Thomas. “You wanna see me in action?”                                                                                                                  “It wouldn’t hurt to see an example,” Thomas replied. Emile gave a swift nod before turning back to look at the others.                                                                        “Alright, everyone in their places!” Emile said with a clap of his hands. Patton moved in front of one of the windows, staring out at the sky before turning back to the rest of the group. Logan put down his book and scooted towards the middle of the couch. Roman decided to stand in front of the television, straightening out his suit and fixing his hair in the black screen. Emile pulled Thomas over to the middle of the room, right in front of the coffee table.                             “Ooooo. Doc, do the thing! Do the thing! I love the thing!” Patton said, practically bouncing on his heels.                                                                                          “I don’t know Pat. We’re already kinda late to start…” Emile said, tapping his pencil to his clipboard, a smile creeping on his lips. “If the others would like it, then I don’t see why not.”                                                                                  “Please, please, PLEASE, guys? It’s so fun when he does it.” Patton said, his eyes darting between the others in the group. A sigh escaped from Logan’s lips, a hand running through his hair.                                                                      “If it will bring your whining to a halt, then just do it. The sooner we get started, the sooner it will be over,” he said.                                                                            “Indeed.” Roman added with a dramatic flick of the wrist, then quickly added, “Besides you know I love to do the background harmony.”                                     “It is one of the few constants I have.” Virgil chimed in. The smile on Emile’s face grew, putting his clipboard on the table behind him before stepping out of the front door.                                                                                                             “Prepare for the moment you’ve been waiting for!!”

Big contributions to http.virgil on Instagram, as well as ebest1445 on Instagram for encouraging me to make this. If anyone wants to draw fanart for this, be my guest, just tag me.

[rahullkohli]

okay, so, for the headcanon thing and because i'm too lazy to write this myself, BUT, consider: they get dave to the modern timeline through Plot Convenience, and he and Klaus attend pride, which is simply Mindblowing to Dave, this sweet guy coming from such a place of social prejudice and homophobia, who's seeing all this overwhelming positivity and support and love out there in public in all its colours, and is just... shocked. essentially, dave crying from joy & holding klaus' hands a lot

i am so sorry this took me a while to get to, but i think about this scenario a lot, and i have to put this under a cut because it turned into 1.3k words of dave experiencing a whole new world.

okay i know that i am completelyminority here, but i don't feel like klaus is the kind of guy whoneeds to flaunt his sexuality. tbh i don't even think he even thinksabout it. i think he mostly just gets with whoever he is attracted to(or can offer him a warm bed or a couch for some time) regardless ofgender. so to me klaus doesn't go to pride for the community, or forthe social aspect. whenever klaus has gone to pride it has been tofill his needs for alcohol, drugs, sex and because pride is fuckingloud.

but then dave is there in the moderntimeline with him, and even though klaus is like ”this is dave,he's my guy, we're a thing, you shut up” to his siblings, dave isstill closeted. dave has been closeted his whole life because heliterally didn't have a choice. and the changes from his timeline toklaus' are an extreme culture shock. klaus' wardrobe alone is enoughto make him need a stiff drink and a moment to clear his head. davewasn't exactly a hippie back in the sixties, and he never really hadmuch to do with them back then. and it's confusing, and he is havinga really hard time. and klaus isn't the most evolved when it comes totalking about feelings, because who the hell would have taught himthat? old reggie? i think not! he's done it in rehab, and grouptherapy in prison, but he always followed up with sarcastic remarks,and he is not about to do that to dave. so instead klaus sits withhim, tells him he doesn't have to be out until he feels like it'sright, and that it all comes down what dave needs. but he also tellsdave about all the good progress the lgbt community has seen sincethe 60s. and then he tells dave about pride – how we have an entiremonth to raise awareness and remember our history. he tells daveabout how pride is a place where nobody cares, where everyone ishappy, and even closeted people get to be themselves for at least acouple of hours because at pride eveeryone is themselves. and klausshows dave pictures and videos from pride, videos of drag queensperforming, and boys kissing boys, and girls kissing girls. picturesof colorful floats and huge, hairy guys in thongs and colorful boasaround their necks.

so they decide to go. dave hesitant,and klaus promises that they don't have to do anything, they can justwatch from the sidelines. klaus even wears pants and a full lengtht-shirt with sleeves and everything to make dave feel as neutral aspossible as they're on the bus to the nearest big city where thefestivities are going down.

and when they arrive it's big, andpompous, and it's colorful. and it's so happy! the energy is booming,and there are so many smiles. big men are making out, unashamed, inthe middle of the city square. women with buzzcuts are holding handsand looking each other in the eyes like they're seeing the sun forthe first time. drag queens taller than dave are dancing in thehighest heels he has ever seen, and teenagers whose genders davecan't even figure out are laughing so hard they can barely stand.there are so many people, and literally every one of them is lookinghappy, and content, and excited.

the air is exploding with love, and forthe first time in the entire time they have known each other, klausfeels dave carefully lace their fingers together in front of otherpeople. and he can't stop grinning, and he so want a drink right now,but he also wants to keep his head clear in case dave getsoverwhelmed. but as a float marked gay soldiers do it better filledwith ripped guys in army pants passed them, dave inches closer tohim, and when klaus looks at him he sees tears in his boyfriend'seyes. so klaus squeezes his hand and dares to move closer.

”everyone is just so happy. andopen,” dave says, but he can't pull his eyes away, and klaus isn'tabout to be the one to break the spell for him. so instead he juststands there, letting dave digest it all, take it all in as much ashe can handle. klaus never considered himself closeted, and he neverfelt like he had to come out to anyone either. it wasn't like hisfamily even cared whether he was alive or dead, so why should hebother to feel like he owed them that part of himself? but it was abig deal to dave, and klaus was not about to take that away from him.

so they spend the whole day in the citysquare. klaus meets former drinking buddies and people he used to domolly with. he meets at least eight different people he has sleptwith, and dave is overwhelmed by how klaus isn't gay or straight butsomething entirely different. but dave is polite and greets everyone,even if he doesn't like the idea of anyone else having ever touchedklaus the way he gets to. he watches klaus dance with other people,and listens to him have conversations that he knows are in englishbut doesn't make the tiniest bit of sense to him. but he doesn'tmind; dave enjoys seeing klaus having a good time, and he likes to beon the sideline to observe without having to put himself in themiddle of it, and he tries not to blush whenever klaus proudlyintroduces him to whoever comes their way, or whenever other mencalls him cute in front of other men. so he holds klaus' hand, andevery time klaus has been wandering off and comes back, he pullsklaus just a little bit closer than he previously has allowed himselfin public.

and they stay the whole day, over theevening, and even though dave's head is pounding from all the loudmusic and the sun baking down on them for hours, he wouldn't want itany other way. his heart has been feeling like it was going to poundright out of his chest the entire day, and he has been scared todeath since before they even left the house, but now that it's darkand the music is transitioning to slower beats, there's no place davewould rather be.

slowly he gathers up his courage to lethis arms wrap around klaus, even though they are surrounded bystrangers. but everyone seems focused on their own moment, and withcouples dancing around them dave tells himself that this is as good amoment as any, and with klaus' arms softly around him he starts tosway, letting them blend in with the other couples moving to the softtunes. and when klaus rest his cheek on his shoulder, dave's stomachdoes a small jump, but he doesn't fight it, and allows his own torest against klaus' messy curls as they are swaying in place.

it's terrifying, and dave is constantlyexpecting someone to come attack them, but then he watches the othercouples around them, and reminds himself to breathe. so he squeezesklaus tighter and takes his hand, dancing like the slow dances he didwith girls in high school, where he used to close his eyes andimagine it was a cute boy, but he never would have imagined that hewould actually get to have a dance like that with someone thatactually made his heart flutter like klaus does. but here he is;fireworks popping over their heads, and a sweet pop song playing overthe biggest speakers he has seen in his life. and he's with klaus. sonothing else matters.