#dude come on take it easy you gotta GET to your DESTINATION!!

[synthetic-blanket-hairs]

Dracula eating all the guys who are supposed to be driving the boat that takes him to London is Exactly like me eating all the little snacks I bought at the grocery store within hours of getting home

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Nothing you can do...

[Central Park, 21:49]

So run it by me. What’s our goal here?

Nico and I did some reconnaissance. We’ve found out that Katagiri is transporting a something to wherever he’s hidden his lab here.

*Kuripa, Rantaro and Kibin hide in the shrubs near the entrance of Central Park. He hands Kibin a plug shaped device.

What do you want me to do with this, stick it up Kuripa’s ass?

No! What the...Why would you think that!?

Dude, she’s joking. Chill.

Yeah. But seriously, what’s it for?

Ugh, you two really get on my nerves sometimes, you know? You’re the most agile and mobile of us Kibin. I need you place this on the statue in the middle of the park before Katagiri’s men show up for whatever delivery they’re planning.

This is the device you and Nico created using the factory data, right? So what will you two do?

I’m expecting that we may end up getting caught in a fight at one point, and there’s gonna be a lot of guys on us.

I’m ALSO expecting a drop from Nico in about an hour. We just need to hold out against whatever security guards show up.

So while Kibin’s planting the charge, you and I need to defend her and it while it charges?

Exactly. Luckily I was able to get my gear fixed after Shuichi broke it.

You flank left, I’ll go right.

Sounds like a plan.

*Kuripa goes left, and begins to keep an eye out for anyone approaching him in the darkness of the evening park.

Cool. So all I gotta do is keep an eye and an ear out for trouble.

Easy enough...and also...

...pretty boring...

*He stays there for a good long while, leaning up against one of the trees, examining his sword.

...

You know...lot’s of blood got on this sword in the past...Friends and foes alike...I’d hate to cake it with any more...

So...do me a favor and come down...!

*SLASH!*

OOF!

*Kuripa slashes the branches above him, causing Akeru to fall out of the tree and land face first on the ground in front of him.

As far as hiding places go kid, this one wasn’t one of your best.

Ugh...H-How did you know that I was up there?

Three reasons. One...Even you can’t easily mask your presence when I’m in a quiet and lonely place like this.

Two...I figured after what happened with Shuichi and Kaede, the Future Foundation would come gunning for me sooner or later, and since Central Park was always the final destination, there would be no better place to corner me.

And three...I’m already pretty suspicious of how no one else seems to be here tonight. Be honest, you all put in word with the park rangers, didn’t you?

...

Of course, there’s no reason to answer the questions of the...Big Fugly Monster, is there?

So here’s an idea. Why don’t the ADULTS come out and face me themselves?

*Kuripa waits for a moment, until the sound of rustling sounds out, and four figures appear from the darkness.

...

...

...

...

Hey guys. Been a while. Wh-Wheres Makoto? For that matter, where’s Komaru?

They’re busy dealing with their own thing.

And by “their own thing” you mean you were forced to complicate things for Makoto, and Komaru’s keeping watch on him, right.

Uh...

Psh...Too easy! Is this how far the Future Foundation have fallen? Gotten to the point where you’re not only sending kids to do your dirty work, but you’re even turning on your own...

Heh...and you were dissing ME for doing that, so what does that say about this situation?

Uh huh...and who’s fault is all this?

Sounds like you think it’s mine. Need I remind you, I was more than happy to just walk away and never come back. YOU followed me.

You really don’t like taking responsibility for your own actions, do you? Nor do you realize the consequences.

Did you NOT just hear what I said Byakuyasshole? I told Akeru that I KNEW you guys would come for me after what happened with Saihara and Akamatsu. So I DO know the consequences of my actions.

And yet you’re STILL talking down to us!

Clearly you don’t know me as well as I thought you did. You should realize that that’s just my garbage social and self-esteem skills doing the talking.

That...and also...I’m not afraid of any of you.

And why not? You really think we won’t hold back just because you used to work with us?

No, but...I know you won’t kill me.

Tch...

And if you can’t bring yourself to do that...well...

*Kuripa lifts up his shirt for emphasis, showing the Future Foundation the scars over is body.

There’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t been done to me already.

...

How many people have you killed up until now, Kuripa?

You really think I keep books on that? A lot, I’ll say that much. Why does that matter to you?

Because it means we can’t afford to let you keep acting unruly. It’s not JUST about Kaede and Shuichi...More people than just them may end up getting hurt because of your actions.

And yet, I’m not the first serial killer the Future Foundation have hired. I mean...look at her.

...I mean he does have a point.

Toko, don’t take his side!

Enough of this!

*Byakuya suddenly pulls a pistol out of his pocket.

OH NOOOO! A GUUUN! Uh...

...

Why the hell are you still standing here, go back to your mum kid!

Oh! Right!

...!

*Kuripa shoves Akeru forward, who quickly scurries next to Toko.

Byakuya, calm down! That’s a bit much!

No! I’ve had enough of this! He’s being sarcastic and acting like his usual irritating self, despite EVERYTHING he’s done! Despite how he’s being held at gunpoint.

Oh come on dude, that thing’s loaded with non-lethal rounds! I already know that!

How do you know that? Who’s to say I didn’t swap them out for the real one’s that I have on hand?

...*inhale* *exhale*

You guys are cornering me, because you want to STOP me from KILLING Zen Katagiri, You know, a guy who’s ACTUALLY dangerous. And now you’re threatening to put a REAL bullet through my skull, which will KILL ME? It makes no fucking sense!

Besides, think about it for a second...Let’s say, hypothetically, you shoot me in the head with a bullet point blank. My skull might be double ‘ard, but it’s not going to slow that bullet down.

What if there’s a random passerby behind me? What if that bullet whizzes through my skull, through the bark of the trees, and then hits an unsuspecting innocent civilian? If that happens, which of us is REALLY the monster?

Grrghh...!

Byakuya, don’t! He’s playing with you! Remember, we cleared out the park!

Gah...Fine! These aren’t real bullets. But even if they won’t kill you, from this range, they’re bound to knock you out for a good long while!

...

*Byakuya cocks the gun.

What? You not gonna draw that sword? Deflect the bullet or slice my hand off?

If you expected me to do that, why are you so close?

STOP picking holes in the plan!

It’s a shit plan! You clearly didn’t think this through! Let me take a guess. Komaru said “go get Kuripa!” didn’t elaborate, and just fucked off, right?

Uh...!

I knew she had to be behind this. Man, for my ex-boss’s sister, that girl is an asshole.

*He turns back to Byakuya.

For that matter, so are you. But no, I’m not gonna draw my sword against you.

Oh?

Once was enough. I’m not gonna turn my sword on the FF again, whether we’re allies or not. So if you want to shoot me...and let Zen Katagiri torture millions...take the shot. I won’t stop you.

Zen Katagiri will be stopped. But first...we’ll deal with you. And then we’ll deal with HIM in the PROPER way.

*Kuripa accepts the situation and prepares for the bullet to fly.

*SHANK!*

Ah!?

!!!

Huh!?

!!?

!!?

*However, Byakuya, Kuripa and everyone else are taken completely off guard, as Toko suddenly uses her scissors to cut through Byakuya’s gun before he can fire! The cut off end drops to the ground in front of them.

GO!

HYAGH!

UGH!

WOAH!

*Toko grabs Kuripa and rushes back into the trees with him, while Akeru hits and stuns Byakuya. She then follows them into the trees.

TOKO! AKERU! WHAT THE HELL!?

RGH! GO AFTER THEM!

*Hina and Byakuya dash into the trees.

Kyoko! You go find Rantaro. Leave those three to us.

*Kyoko watches in silence, as Hina and Byakuya give chase.

I’m supposed to be the chairwoman, but now everyone’s barking orders at me.

...I’ll hand it to you Kuripa. You turned our hierarchy completely upside down, even if you didn’t mean to.

*Deeper into the park, Toko and Kuripa hide in one of the trees while Akeru keeps an eye out.

Keep your voices down. They might hear us if we talk too loudly.

You know, I DID just say trees weren’t a good hiding spot. You might want to have put us somewhere a little less obvious. They’re gonna be looking up you know?

Shut it Kuripa! Can you drop the sarcasm for just one second?

Fine, I’ll bite. But then tell me why you saved me just now.

I thought you of all people would be on Komaru's side. Future Foundation aren’t gonna take this slight lightly, you know?

I know...And I know there’s a chance this will all be pointless but...I decided I’ll take a chance on you.

So what, even after all your opposition, you’re choosing to trust me now?

Don’t flatter yourself! I wouldn’t trust you to shit in my toilet! And I still don’t want you killing Katagiri like you did Haiji!

Then why stop the dickbag!?

Because...as much as I disagree with your actions...I can’t follow Komaru on this tyrannical path she’s leading us all down. 

And also...you keep saying you’re a monster, and Komaru and the others keep saying you’re a monster, but honestly? I don’t think that’s true.

Heh...You reckon? Even after all the people I killed and hurt? Even after all the malicious things I’ve said and done?

I do. You had the perfect opportunity back there to use my daughter as a hostage when Byakuya had you at gunpoint...But you didn’t even consider it.

Oh no, I CONSIDERED it. I considered it and decided not to go through with it.

I think that kid has been wounded enough, don’t you.

...

Toko. I’m gonna make good with the chance you’ve given me. But regardless of how this ends, promise me this.

Komaru is free to hate me as much as she wishes to. I wouldn’t dare try to change her thoughts on me. But let her know that her hatred for me should NEVER take priority over her love for her family.

I will...I promise.

[hops-hunny]

College Girls

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: anon “How about Rodrick invites the reader to a party (he’s been crushing on her for the longest) but she plays hard to get and at the party her friends try to convince her to give him a chance and later it leads to them playing 7 minutes in heaven and they confess to each other and it goes from there ;) it could end in smut or fluff your way ly <3”

Summary: (college!au) College girls and their games, good thing Rodrick loves to play.

Warnings: Mentions of weed and alcohol, making out, teasing

A/N: Ok I forgot to make them confess but it’s implied sorry anon. I still hope you enjoy it!

If there was one thing Rodrick knew, college was a shit ton different than high school was. However, that wasn’t a bad thing. Unlimited booze and bud, hot chicks, and parties that never ended? He was practically in heaven! He had grown into himself, feeling more confident than ever since Heather had rejected him his senior year. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he thought about her but if he had to pinpoint it, it was a few months ago when she had hit him up, begging the boy to give her a chance. Oh the irony behind that. That was another good thing about college. In high school, all the girls thought he was just some loser who wasted too much time on a band that would always be shit. 

But with years of experience under their belt and more free time to practice, Löaded Diaper was beginning to become a big deal in their rinky dink shithole off a small town. God was he glad too because with clout, also came hot girls in skirts that barely covered their ass. The opportunity for endless amounts of hookups was an absolute dream come true, but all dreams lose their shine eventually. When fucking became a mere thing to pass the time between class, gigs, and parties, he realized that it wasn’t as great as he thought it was. He was starting to crave something more, something like or, someone like- her.

God she was a babe. Rodrick still remembered the first time he saw her. Löaded Diaper was doing another house gig, everyone in the crowd dancing and moving to the intense music. And all of a sudden, a strobe light glossed over her perfectly, almost like a halo of blue light and his eyes were hooked. She was there with her friends, one of them whispering something in her ear which caused her to lock eyes with his. Pretty (e/c) eyes meeting his own brown ones. It was almost perfect, almost. As soon as they had finished the last note of their song, without missing a beat she swiftly made her exit and he made his way after her. Rodrick jumped off the stage, chasing after her and her friends all the way till they reached the curb. He grabbed her arm causing the girl to look back.

“Hey, uh, did you enjoy the gig?” He asked, running his fingers through his sweaty hair nervously. He felt his nerves rise even more at the sound of her friends’ giggles.

“I wouldn’t have stayed the whole gig if I didn’t, would I?” she retorted, rolling her eyes as she began to open the passenger door of the black mercedes.

“Yeah, I guess that was a dumb question..” he trailed off as she closed her door. His eyes widened at the fact he hadn’t gotten her name prompting him to take off after the car. He felt relieved as the girl rolled down her window, looking up at him through her thin framed sunglasses. “Wait! I didn’t get your name, I’m Rodrick.” he smirked, watching as she pulled her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head.

“Didn’t give it.” she quipped, sending him a wink as her friend took off into the distance. Who was she? All he knew about her was that she had a mouth on her and lived on the other side of campus. A lot of girl’s fit that description so it wasn’t easy asking around about her. However, as he stood here in the corner of the party his fraternity was throwing, he’d recognize a pair of nice legs like that from anywhere. His eyes took in her appearance. She had on a denim mini skirt, black turtleneck and a pair of knee high boots that matched. The boy had to practically stop himself from gawking at how good she looked, curves clinging to every bit of the form fitting outfit. He cleared his throat as his friend nudged him, looking to see what he wanted.

“Uh don’t look now, but I think that girl you were eye fucking is definitely eye fucking you back dude. Is that the chick from the gig a few weeks ago that you won’t shut up about?" Rodrick glared at the man, shoving him into the wall before walking towards her. He watched as her friends “coincidentally” all began to head off in other directions, leaving her to offer him a flirty little smile behind the drink she’d been nursing.

“Well if it isn’t the little drummer boy! To what do I owe the pleasure, Rodrick?” she purred, sitting down her now empty cup. She stepped forward, leaving them to be pressed chest to chest. It could easily be blamed on the crowded room but the two knew otherwise. He smirked back at her, wrapping his arms around her waist securely.

“I’m a simple man. I see a pretty girl sending looks my way, I come.” his eyes widened as he began to overthink his word choice. “N-not like that! Like I come over not like cum in my pants. I-I’m not like some virgin...well I’m not some man whore either! I don’t fuck around a lot. Not like the option isn’t there bu-” he quit his nervous ramblings at the sound of her laughter. He relaxed, smiling as the girl wrapped his arms around her neck. He began to lean in thinking she would ask him for a kiss but instead she missed his lips, putting hers next to his ear before whispering,

“Wanna dance?” Before he could answer, the girl (who’s name he still didn’t catch) was dragging him to the dance floor, moving his hands to rest on her hips. He tried to keep his movements as fluid as possible. It took him a bit but eventually his movements matched hers, as they swayed to the beat of the song. She pressed her head against his shoulder, looking up at him as she continued the movements against his pelvic area. “I love this song, it’s one of my favorites.” she whispered. He didn’t know if it was because he was cross faded or his enjoyment of the movements but D’Evils by SiR was beginning to become one of his favorite songs too. How could it not when there was such a pretty girl pressed against his front?

“Yeah? It suits you.” he muttered, leaning his head down to hover his own chapped lips above the girl’s soft gloss covered ones. She hummed in agreement, both of them slowly inching towards each other before she stopped, letting out a cheeky giggle.

“Did you really think I was going to kiss you that easily? You’ve gotta earn it.” She said, dragging a manicured hand against the skin of his neck. He shivered a bit as goosebumps formed, watching as she disappeared back into the crowd. He swore some, groaning as he fiddled with the growing bulge in his jeans. Was he out of the game for too long or had girls always been this hard to get? Either way, he didn’t care. Rodrick was gonna get this girl and her name by the end of the night if it was the last thing he ever did. He broke out of his thoughts, keeping sight of her figure making its way through the beaded curtain which led to the basement of the large frat house. Quickly he chased after her, trying to keep up with her. And, as if on purpose, every time he’d get close she’d flash him that breathtaking smile and continue on her path. Finally, she reached her supposed destination, a small group of people on couches, discussing the plans to play something. 

“So, what’s the game?” He asked, causing everyone to look up at him as he sat on the couch farthest from her. He looked at the bottle in the center of the table, proud of himself and his seating choice. The further he was away, the more likely the bottle was to land on the pretty thing across from him.

“7 minutes in heaven. You down?” A brunette girl asked, a flirty look in her buzzed eyes. He ignored her small attempt at an advance, nodding as he locked eyes with the girl of the hour. He shot her a wink, smirking as she rolled her eyes, biting her lip to hide the smile that was making its way onto her face. For someone so adamant about playing this game of cat and mouse, she seemed to be fighting off her feelings very harshly. None of that mattered now though. If there was a god, he hoped he’d be on his side. Never had he wanted to be stuffed inside a muggy dark closet with someone so badly.

“Of course I’m down. Do I look like a pussy to you?” he asked, watching as the (h/c) haired girl opened her mouth. He gave her a pointed look, tilting his head at her. “Don’t answer that, legs.” The girl looked surprised at the nickname but didn’t say anything, trailing her acrylic nails up the curve of her thigh. His brown eyes followed curiously, jumping slightly as she closed her legs quickly giving him a mocking pout. Tonight was going to be a long night.

-------------------------------------------------

Round after round was filled with surprises, none involving Rodrick or the mystery girl of his affections. Sometimes, the two people involved would cheer or jump up excitedly, ceasing the moment that they were desperately waiting for. Other times they would groan in disgust and hell, he couldn’t blame him with the hygiene of some of these people. Have they ever even heard of a shower, deodorant? Only their BO could tell. However, his odds grew more and more as it was finally his turn to spin the bottle. He picked it up, kissing the empty beer bottle as he made up some prayer. He let out a deep breath before spinning the bottle. As he watched it spin, the only thought he could seem to form was, ‘Please, please please. Cmon, cmon, cmon!’

Finally the bottle began to halt, making a rumbling noise as it stopped. His eyes followed the nose of it, letting out an internal cheer as his eyes met the (e/c) eyes from across from him. He pulled up his jeans before walking over to the girl, holding a hand out to her. She eyed it before smirking up at him, allowing her to pull him up. Rodrick looked down at her hand before tangling his fingers with her own, pulling her towards the closet. Once they both were in there, silence overcame them leaving the muffled music from upstairs to be the filler between silent space. He cleared his throat some, catching the shorter girl’s attention.

“Sooo, um. Would this count as earning it?” He quipped, giving her a flirty grin. The girl rolled her eyes before moving closer to him, pulling him down to her own height as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Rodrick wasted no time, pulling the girl by her hips and planting his on hers. The kiss was everything he’d hope it’d be. Passionate, hot, and filled with every bit of desire that had built up over the course of the party. He nibbled at her lip, causing a moan to slip from her lips. He smirked a bit, pulling away some to look into her eyes a bit.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be a good kisser. You looked like you would give me a lot of teeth and too much tongue.” she giggled some, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it. He rolled his eyes, smirking as he leaned in, nibbling on her neck a bit. He felt victory overcome him at the soft whimper that came from her lips.

“My pride’s a bit wounded, princess.” he purred, lifting her up as he pinned her against the wall. He leaned back in for another kiss, this one more deep and intense than the last. He groaned softly as she tangled her fingers in his hair, gripping at it slightly. He slid his tongue over her bottom lip, quickly tangling it with hers when she opened her mouth. They’re tongues danced a bit, fighting for dominance before he won. He absorbed her moans, sucking on her tongue as he slid a hand under her skirt, stroking the skin of her upper thighs. Rodrick noted how soft her skin was before gripping at it harshly, stroking her hips with his thumbs.

Just as he slid his hands under her shirt, a knock broke them out of their kiss. He groaned in annoyance, pulling away and fixing her clothes for her as the door was ripped open. The (e/c) eyed girl was the first to walk out, looking back at him as if she had something to say.

“(Y/n).” she said, causing him to look at her in confusion. “My name? It’s (Y/n). I hope this isn’t a habit of yours, making out with girls whose names you don’t even know.” she said, looking up at him expectantly. His mouth opened and closed as he stuttered, searching for the words to say. He cleared his throat before grabbing her hand, beginning the path to his own room.

“Not anymore it isn’t.”

[goldenraeofsun]

Enhanced Extraction Techniques

Also available at AO3

“Cas?”

Cas whirls around. If he was standing on a normal floor, his shoes would have squeaked with the abrupt turn. In the Empty, though, his feet don’t make a sound. “Dean?” he calls back, his heart soaring in his chest.

“Cas? Where are you, man?”

Cas spins in another circle, his eyes straining against the darkness. The oppressive blankness of nothing presses against his eyeballs like an almost tangible film. He tries again, “Dean?”

“Cas?”

“Dean!” Cas takes off in the direction of Dean’s voice.

“Are you there?”

 Cas walks faster, anticipation quickening his heels. “I’m coming!”

“I can’t find you!”

“I’m here!” Cas calls back desperately.

“I’m running out of time here, buddy! Spell’s not gonna last forever. Where the hell are you?”

Panicked, Cas breaks out into a run. “I’m coming, Dean!”

“Are you?”

Cas stops dead. If he was back on Earth, he would have fallen flat on his face with the momentum. He turns to his right, where Dean’s voice just came.

“Cas? You there?”

Dean’s voice definitely came from his left that time.

“I need you.”

Cas swallows. Dean’s voice is coming from directly in front of him now. Icy dread creeps up his spine, but he feels hot all over.

“You make it too easy, Castiel.”

Dean never calls him by his full name, not in more than a decade. He is not talking with Dean.

“Nobody is coming for you.”

Cas doesn’t respond. Shamed beyond reason, he just stands there because there is nothing else to do. He can’t hide from the Empty. The Empty is everywhere.

Black ooze, blacker than the surrounding darkness, bubbles up from the floor. The Empty resolves into Cas’s own face, to his surprise. He’d been expecting Dean.

It shrugs, a knowing smirk playing on its lips. “What can I say? If you’re determined to keep me awake, I might as well amuse myself.”

“Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired,” Cas says as tonelessly as he can manage.

The Empty crosses its arms over its chest. “My options are limited, aren’t they?” it says snidely. “I can’t put you to sleep, so I can’t sleep. I might as well make this experience as hellish for you as it is for me.”

Cas frowns. “You could always negate our deal. Send me back to Earth.”

The Empty laughs. “That’s not how it works. That was a one-way trip.”

Cas grinds his teeth. “Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“An impasse requires two forces of equal power,” the Empty tuts. “And you, my little gnat, have no power in this equation. You are my plaything. What was it that Gabriel said? A thousand channels and nothing’s on. Except you.”

Before Cas can respond, the Empty disappears, dissolving into a tarry splatter and absorbing into whatever passes as the floor in this place. 

 * * *

Cas wanders. He used to sleep while he was bored, but the Empty truly reigns supreme in his dreams. Cas killed Naomi’s Dean facsimile a thousand times, a million times. He watched Dean rake leaves, Crowley whispering poisoned promises into his ear. He walked away as Dean hurts and rages silently behind him in the Bunker.

So Cas stays awake. He’s an angel. It isn’t hard.

Dean’s voice occasionally calls for him.

Cas ignores it.

He wanders for what seems like miles, like hundreds of miles. Nothing ever changes in the Empty. With every step forward, he meets the same bleak blackness. The closest comparison in his long memory is the fraction of a second before the Big Bang - there was emptiness then too, but it was filled with a pregnant sense of promise. In the Empty - nothing.

Until.

Dean is running towards him.

Cas blinks a few times to make sure, even though his vision is perfect.

“Cas,” Dean breaks the silence first, “I found you.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes - any louder, and Dean will hear the trembling. “You’re here.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean says with a wink. “Now, come on. We’re getting out of here.” He takes off in the direction he came from, glancing behind him to check on Cas.

“We are?” Cas asks, following.

Dean throws him a disbelieving look. “Of course, dude. Sam and Jack are prepping the spell to get us back to the Bunker. We got Chuck by the short and curlies, but we’re one power player short. So we gotta get a move on.”

“So you need me?” Cas asks.

“Your mojo is the ticket,” Dean says with a little grin. “Chuck wiped all the angels off the Earth except Michael. And that dick isn’t answering our prayers, so you’re our next best bet.”

The joy at seeing Dean wavers. “I am?” he asks haltingly.

Dean shrugs. “We gotta work with what we have. And we just remembered you were here, out of Chuck’s reach. Our own spare angel!”

Cas barely holds back his flinch. Hunching in on himself, he mutters, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean assures him, misreading his reaction completely. “We have a plan.”

Cas sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“Sam found a spell,” Dean says. “It’ll rip Chuck apart, and, since Amara’s inside him - which, gross - it’ll maintain the balance when the spell takes her apart too.” 

Dean stops walking.

Cas looks around, but nothing sets aside this patch of emptiness from any other. No illuminated rift, no magic symbols, no X marking the spot - nothing.

“The catch is,” Dean says as he turns to Cas, his face regretful, “the spell needs an angel’s grace.”

In a blink of an eye, an angel blade drops into Dean’s palm.

Cas blinks. No beings but angels can manifest that particular weapon.

Dean raises the blade, fingers flexing on the handle. “You know,” he says conversationally, “Now that I think about it, we don’t actually need the angel himself - just the battery.”

Cas stands his ground, his eyes darting over Dean’s face, taking in every nuance and tell.

“I told you once,” Cas says warily, a horrible foreboding coming over him, “I’m always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“Happy to hear that, Cas,” Dean says, his face impassive, “because you’re gonna bleed a lot, not gonna lie.” He shoves the blade in Cas’s chest, right above his heart.

Cas staggers back from the blow, pain and shock radiating out from the bloodless wound.

Dean raises his eyebrows, his mouth curling into a mocking smile as Cas meets his smug face. “What, were you expecting to go poof? We’re in the Empty,” he throws its hands wide, “everyone’s in stasis here, including you.”

Cas yanks the blade out of his chest, but it - and Dean - turns into black goo before he can stab anything with it.

 * * *

The Empty doesn’t mimic Dean next. Instead it takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s. Every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven.

And there’s no escape. Cas can do his best not to listen, but if he retreats too far into himself, it almost counts as sleeping. With the Empty’s nudging, his thoughts will veer into his worst regrets, sooner or later. 

The Empty is in the middle of lecturing him in the form of Balthazar, when it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

“Come on,” he says roughly. He strides forward to grab Cas’s hand and tug him in the other direction. “That bomb doesn’t last forever.”

“Dean?”

“Who else?” Dean yanks him sharply to the left. “This place didn’t turn your brains to scrambled eggs, did it?”

“I don’t think so,” Cas says shakily. “Dean are you really...”

“What?”

Cas can’t help looking down at their clasped hands. A fleeting thing, barely more than a glance. Still, Dean drops Cas’s hand like it burned him. “You good to run?” he asks shortly.

Cas barely nods before Dean takes off. They hurtle through the Empty, their rapid footsteps impossibly silent. Dean’s breath comes in sharp pants, and Cas’s useless wings ache, not for the first time, to fly them to their destination.

“Dean,” Cas starts, and Dean slows. “Where are we going?”

“Where I left my stuff,” Dean says shortly. “The spell to get us out of here needs a shit-ton of crap, and I couldn’t haul it all over this goddamn place while I was trying to find you.”

“How did you know your way back?”

The corners of Dean’s mouth lift in a faint smile. He points to the floor. “M&Ms.”

Cas squints at the ground, and, sure enough, they are following a trail of tiny candies. “Ingenious,” he murmurs.

“Hey, it worked with a Wendigo,” Dean says, shrugging. He directs them in a few more twists and turns before Cas sees Dean's duffle bag in the distance, topped with a bright yellow bag of M&Ms.

As they get closer, Dean pulls out an angel blade from inside his jacket.

Cas balks. 

Dean shoots him a puzzled look as he hands it to him. “It won’t kill anything here, obviously,” he says, unzipping his bag. He pulls out a copper bowl and bundles of herbs, “But having a weapon’s never a bad idea in unknown dimensions.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas surveils their inky surroundings, already on high alert for any trespassers.

“Watch my back, okay?” Dean glances over his shoulder. Various ingredients get dropped into the bowl with outsized clangs and dribbles that seem to echo in the void around them.

Cas stays vigilant.

“This was easier than I thought it would be,” Dean mutters as the bowl’s contents start to smoke.

“Don’t jinx it,” Cas mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Dean chuckles under his breath. “I didn’t think angels believed in jinxes.”

It’s not like Cas has been especially angelic these past few years. He says shortly, “I’ve found you can never be too careful.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Need your blood for this part,” he says, shuffling over to make room. “Wait,” Dean says before Cas can press the blade againt his skin.

“Yes?”

“This is the last step,” Dean says seriously. “Once your blood goes in, it’s liftoff. So I wanted to get a couple things straight before we’re back in the Bunker.”

Cas doesn’t need to breathe, but if he did, his breath would have hitched in his chest at the closed-off look on Dean’s face. “Of course.” 

“What you said - what you told me,” Dean starts, his voice hard, “before you got sucked to this hellscape.” He drops his gaze to the bowl cradled in his hands, “That’s not me.”

Cas presses his lips together, struggling to keep his face impassive. Once he regains control of himself he says, “I did not expect you to reciprocate when I told you about my feelings for you.”

Dean actively recoils at the mention of feelings. He gives the bowl a little toss, and a few of the contents spill onto the floor. “Just, forget it,” he says brusquely, gathering everything up again.

“Dean-”

He turns to Cas, his eyes blazing. “But - you know what? I can’t forget it.”

Cas opens his mouth, but Dean is not done.

“How could you offload all that shit on me right before you fucked off to parts unknown?” he demands, voice rising in anger and volume. “Of all the goddamn things you could have said to me - that takes the fucking cake. You were my best friend -” he breaks off, shaking his head. “Worst moment of my goddamn life.”

Cas takes a step back, a sickly horror trickling down his spine. “I didn’t think-”

But Dean’s not listening. “I had serious doubts about coming here at all,” he continues, and the last Dean had stabbed him in the chest - how is this so much worse? “But Sam gave me those goddamn puppy dog eyes, and don’t even get me started on Jack-”

“I understand,” Cas interrupts stiffly. He inhales a deep breath he doesn’t need and continues, “Once we return to the Bunker, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Probably for the best,” Dean mutters.

Cas cuts his forearm, watching with perverse fascination as the blood wells up and drips into the bowl waiting below.

There’s a violent burst of light and sound.

In the aftermath, Cas can only make out Dean’s mocking laughter. Before Cas can say a word, it turns into Meg’s delighted giggles. And then Gabriel’s howls of mirth.

 * * *

Cas sleeps after getting deceived for the third time. Anything is better than seeing the smug face of the Empty, whether it’s wearing Dean’s face, Gadreel’s, or Ruby’s. 

He breaks the wall in Sam’s head.

He lets Lucifer possess him in a futile plan.

He beats Dean to a bloody mess for the Angel Tablet.

Occasionally, the Empty grants him release, and Cas gets to deliver a bad joke to Uriel in Mesopotamia or Dean calls him a baby in a trenchcoat in a diner.

Time passes. Cas has no idea how long. There’s no sun - no moon - no cycling of the heavens. Only emptiness.

He gets shaken awake.

Cas blinks up at a pair of very familiar green eyes. “Dean,” he says, more or less resigned.

“Jesus,” Dean says as he sits back on his heels, “Way to make a guy feel welcome. I’m here to save your sorry ass, in case you were wondering. A full week of tearing my hair out over how to get you outta here, and this is the thanks I get.”

Cas sits up. “My apologies,” he says tentatively as he studies Dean’s face. There’s no sign it isn’t really Dean.

Then again, none of the others showed signs either.

Cas gets to his feet, asking, “Are you alone?”

Dean glances around them warily. “Yeah, Sam and Jack are keeping the portal open in the Bunker. They wanted to come,” he says, his eyes raking over Cas’s face, drinking him in. “They’ll be over the fucking moon to see you again.”

Cas swallows. “And you?”

“I -” A dull flush comes over Dean’s cheeks. He looks away.

Cas’s face shutters. “Right,” he says as he stands in front of Dean. “Now what?”

“Hey,” Dean says, reaching out to grasp his left shoulder, a mirror of the mark Cas left on him so long ago and so recently. “I missed you too. You have to know that.”

Worst moment of my life.

Cas looks away, Dean’s own raised voice echoing in his head.

“Hey,” Dean says again, gentler this time. His green eyes bore into Cas’s face. “What’s going on in that celestial brain of yours?”

The words catch in Cas’s throat, a lump of embarrassment and fear keeping them there. Embarrassment that the Empty deceived him. Fear that the Empty was right.

“Look, I know we didn’t leave things on great terms,” Dean says awkwardly, “and maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about it, but I’m so fucking happy to see you, man.” He chuckles ruefully. “’S making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Even if it’s only a facsimile of Dean - and there’s no way to tell for certain - seeing his face not contorted in anger or mockery is like a balm on Cas’s soul. If he had one, that was.

“About what you said before you got taken-” Dean starts.

Cas’s heart sinks.

“No,” Dean says, his voice low and gentle, “listen to me. I get that happiness for you might just be in the being, but for me-”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas interrupts. “I meant that, truly. You don’t have to-”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, smiling slightly, “You’re not making this easy are you?”

Cas bites his tongue to keep from contradicting Dean again.

“As I was saying,” Dean continues pointedly, his green eyes shining, “For me, happiness isn’t in the being - whatever the hell that means. It’s in the goddamn having.”

Cas bites his tongue harder, the pain hardly registering against the burst of hope fluttering wildly in his chest. “Dean,” he forces out, “You can’t mean…”

“Cas,” Dean starts, and Cas’s heart breaks - or mends. He can’t tell. He has no idea who he is talking to, and it’s, to borrow a phrase from the real Dean, an epic mindfuck.  

“Cas,” the Dean standing in front of him repeats, and Cas’s gaze automatically draws back to his face, “Good things do happen.”

Cas chuckles wetly. He has no choice but to say, “Not in my experience.”

Dean takes a step closer, far into the personal space he’d shown Cas so many years ago. Brows drawing together, he raises a hand to cup Cas’s face. “Someone told me a while ago that having faith was important. Seems you’re a little short there, buddy.”

Cas tries to duck his head, but Dean won’t let him. Eventually, he admits, “My faith has been tested recently.”

“But you didn’t give up, right?” Dean asks, leaning in close enough that Cas can feel the warmth of his breath in the air between them.

Cas shakes his head minutely. “No,” he murmurs, “not entirely.”

“Good,” Dean says, pausing just shy of Cas’s mouth. Waiting.

Cas steels himself and closes distance.

Just before their lips touch, Dean implodes in a burst of inky ooze.

 * * *

Cas breaks several knuckles on the floor of the Empty. There are no walls to punch, no blade to send heads rolling. Cas works with what he has.

The real Dean would probably approve.

Dean shows up again before too long. This Dean goes so far as to tell Cas he loves him.

Cas turns his back on Dean’s heartbroken face. He refuses to engage.

He wanders instead.

* * * 

Cas hears the footsteps before he sees his next Dean.

“Cas!” he pants, “Thank fuck. I thought I was never going to find you.”

Cas merely sighs.

Dean makes a face. “Way to roll out the welcome wagon,” he says, clearly offended. “I would’ve thought you were sick of this place by now.”

Cas purses his lips. “I am.”

“Shocker,” Dean says with a little smile. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, so you gotta follow me.”

Cas doesn’t budge. He’d rather roam this place for eternity than suffer at the hands of another Dean facsimile. And he had thought he saw enough of them under Naomi’s tutelage. He’d been so naive.

Dean stares at him like Cas just stripped naked and danced the macarena. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not real,” Cas says bluntly.

Dean gapes. “Of course I’m real! Chuck’s de-powered, and Jack… well, it’s a long story. Bottom line: nobody’s pulling our strings but us.”

Cas lets out a derisive laugh.

Dean’s eyebrows rise, but he barrels on, “So it’s time to get a move on. Up and at ‘em, sunshine.” He jerks his head off to the right. 

Cas stays where he is. “No.”

“What the hell?” Dean has the gall to tug on Cas’s sleeve like he’s a wayward toddler. “Come on. You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Cas retorts. It’s not his best rejoinder, but he’s been very stressed lately.

Whatever Dean was about to say dies on his tongue as he stares at Cas in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?” He shakes his head before Cas can respond, saying, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out later. But now, you’ve gotta come with me.”

Cas levels him a flat glare. This one is more stubborn than the last, more like the real Dean. “Why should I?”

“Because you don’t deserve to be stuck here?” Dean says, gesturing to the void around them. “You saved the world, Cas.” He swallows. “You saved me. Getting you out is the least we can do.”

“Because you need me to take on Chuck,” Cas says.

“No?” Dean says, his eyes narrowing. “I already told you, Chuck’s off the playing board.”

“Because you feel guilty about leaving me here.”

“No - wait, I do, but,” Dean breaks off, irritated, “you know what I mean.”

Cas doesn’t, so he continues in the same vein as before, “Because you love me.”

Dean hesitates. “I’m working on it.”

Cas snorts. At least the last Dean had the balls to say it. Many times. While crying.

“What?” Dean throws up his hands. “You just sprung it on me, dude! I didn’t even know angels could feel things like that, and it took me by surprise, okay? I’m only human, and sometimes we need time to get used to ideas. Like when we found out Snooki was a demon. Yeah, the signs were there, and it makes sense, but still - you sometimes need it spelled out for you.”

Cas pauses. None of the other Deans had referenced pop culture. “How long ago was this for you?”

“Since we summoned Snooki?” 

At Cas’s icy look of disdain, Dean hedges, “A month? Give or take.” He glares. “First we had to deal with Chuck, and it took a while to find a spell to get here. Remember, we didn’t even know this was a place before you died the last time. The Men of Letters weren’t a shit ton of help, for once.”

Cas crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just… hear me out,” Dean says. “There’s a portal to get us home. Sam and Jack can’t stall the Empty forever.”

That was new. “Jack and Sam aren’t in the Bunker?”

“No,” Dean says as he takes off in the opposite direction, all but forcing Cas to follow to find out more. “They’re up in Heaven.”

“Why?”

“Because the Empty can’t get to Earth without a summoning spell, which, as far as we can tell, doesn’t exist?” Dean says, checking over his shoulder to make sure Cas is still within earshot. “But you made that fucking stupid deal in Heaven, so we knew it could at least travel there. Jack zapped Sam to the Pearly Gates, and they’re hopefully making a distraction while I get you out.”

Still not entirely convinced, Cas asks begrudgingly, “And where are we going?”

“A portal,” Dean says confidently. “This place is a little like Purgatory, apparently. If it senses a human here, it’ll create a portal to spit them out again.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “So here I am, 100% genuine human to bail your ass out.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean says with a wink.

Cas scowls. The first Dean had winked at him too.

“Jesus, tough crowd,” Dean mutters as they head further into the Empty.

Cas scans the ground, but there are no small candies lining the way. “How do you know where to go?”

“Turns out, Sam could find a spell for that,” Dean says as he holds up his left hand - clutching his amulet. The Empty must have really hunted around in his memories for that one, even more so than the Wendigo case. He hasn’t seen the real amulet in nearly five years. “It heats up when I’m on the right track towards the exit.”

“So no M&Ms?”

Dean turns to him. “I told you about that?”

Cas stares straight ahead, willing his face to fall into an expressionless mask. The real Dean had told him about the Wendigo over dinner with Sam and Mary while she was still alive, or the Empty wouldn’t be able to use it as inspiration now.

Dean shakes his head, smiling. “Man, I haven’t thought about that case in forever.” He glances at Cas, his face sobering. “You really don’t believe this is real?”

“No.”

He can’t. Not again.

Dean sighs as he steers them slightly to the right. “Come on, I’m almost getting third degree burns from this thing. We must be close.”

Sure enough, a blue swirling portal comes into view, a pinprick of light in the distance at first, elongating into an exact replica of the Purgatory exit as they approach. 

“Finally,” Dean mutters, his face impassive. He  turns to Cas. “Just… don’t stay behind,” he grimaces, “again.”

This version has been the most true to Dean - less callous than the first, more caring than the second, more guarded than the third. It will hurt the most when this one falls apart. Maybe it would be better if Cas heads it off at the pass instead of letting the whole painstaking ruse play out all the way through.

If the Empty could get it over with, Cas will go back to sleep. Anything is better than this torture.

Cas takes a step back, away from the portal. “This is pointless-”

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean throws his hands in the air. “I don’t get it at all. You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

Cas gapes at him.

Dean continues heatedly, “If an ex-demon with anger management problems and rap sheet a mile long deserved to be saved, I think a legit angel should get the same.”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m hardly a prime example of an angel anymore.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Have I ever cared about that?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Dean cuts him off. “Now, are you going to go through the portal or am I gonna have to drag you? I’ll do it,” he threatens. “Don’t test me.”

Cas wavers. Everything in him says to follow Dean. But this isn’t the real Dean - this is the Empty waiting for the glorious moment when it can yank the illusion away, leaving Cas a little more broken than before.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you,” he spits, “You can’t trust me just a little-”

“Trust?” Cas echoes as he strides forward to grab the lapels of Dean’s jacket, his voice rising in a mixture of outrage, desperation, and heartache, “You want me to trust you? After you’ve lied to me, deceived me - after you stabbed me, after you told me I put you through the worst moment of your life the last time you saw me, after you made me think you returned my feelings only to - only to-”

Dean shakes his head slowly. “But I didn’t do any of that.”

“You did,” Cas says fervently, shaking Dean a little - or maybe that’s his trembling hands. “You did - you’ve been putting me through hell since I got here, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do,” Cas swears. “I’m done pretending.”

Dean his eyes flicking down to Cas’s mouth. “What do you know,” he breathes, “so am I.”

Cas freezes, waiting for Dean to dissolve into a puddle of goo in his hands.

Dean kisses him instead.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips to his, Cas jerks back in surprise and horror.

He falls straight into the portal. 

The Empty vanishes in a blur of too-bright light.

 * * *

Cas comes to in the middle of a field. The sun shines overhead. Noon, Cas registers distantly as he looks around. Dean’s sprawled on the prairie grasses next to him, already waking up judging by the groaning noises.

“Dean?”

Dean opens his eyes, glances at the sky, and closes them again. “Oh great, we made it.”

Cas tentatively picks his way closer to Dean’s side. He stands over him for a moment, shuffling to the side so he doesn’t block the sunlight falling on Dean’s face. “We’re on Earth.”

“Well, it’s sure as shit not Mars,” Dean grumbles, eyes still closed. “Are you watching me right now? I feel like you’re watching me right now.”

Cas stares around the field. “Not anymore,” he says, and a genuine breeze blows against his face. What a marvel.

“‘S okay,” Dean says as he wiggles a little on the grass, getting more comfortable, “’M used to it.”

Cas turns to him. “It’s really you.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean cracks his eyes open, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “You believe me now?”

“This could be the most elaborate ruse yet.”

Dean lifts his head up. “Seriously? You dick, I did not haul ass all the way-”

“I don’t really believe that, however,” Cas says before Dean can work himself up too much.

“Good.” He meaningfully thumps the grass next to him. “Sit. You’re giving me serious Law & Order vibes.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “I don’t get that reference. I know about Law & Order-”

“And how does every episode of Law & Order start?” Dean interrupts, “With someone standing over a dead body in a field.”

Cas takes a seat. “Not always a field. Most episodes show corpses in urban areas, or, once, a yacht.”

“Pretty sure it was more than once. I hate procedural cop shows.”

“They are very formulaic,” Cas admits, stretching out his legs, “and lack the drama of soap operas.”

“I’m just saying, if a long lost sibling doesn’t pop out of the woodwork or if the main character isn’t killed off at least six times, is it really worth watching?”

Cas levels him a flat look. “Dean, all those things have happened to you.”

Dean snorts. “At least none of us got amnesia.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

Dean turns his head to stare at him, a wide grin spreading across his face as he laughs. “Oh shit, you're right. How the hell did I forget?”

“Because of supreme irony, most likely.”

It takes Dean a moment to get it, but when he does, he laughs even louder.

Cas doesn’t have anything to add, so he lets the conversation peter off into silence, listening to Dean’s even breathing and the grass rustling in the gentle wind.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Dean says in an undertone.

Cas turns to him. Dean’s eyes are closed again, but everything else about him radiates a quiet tension Cas might’ve missed anywhere else. But here, in this field, nothing prevents Cas from honing on Dean’s whole being with everything he has. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“I dunno,” Dean says, his face scrunching up, “I thought it would be more awkward. But… it doesn’t feel any different.”

Cas blinks. “Why should it?” he asks, and though he’s not definitively sure what Dean means by ‘it’, he has a very strong suspicion.

Dean shoots him a pointed look. “Because you don’t tell someone you love them and expect everything to be OK after.”

Cas lays down next to Dean. Staring up at the wispy clouds overhead, he says, “If it changes anything, I didn’t expect to be around for the after part.” Dean’s head turns to look at him, but Cas can’t bring himself to see whatever expression is on his face. “If you’d like for us to go our separate ways after this, I understand.”

“You stupid bastard,” Dean mutters vehemently, “for the last goddamn time, I did not piss off the immortal Blob just to tell you to go fuck yourself in person.”

Cas inhales a slow breath, breathing in the dirt, wildflowers growing nearby, and Dean. “You kissed me,” he says.

“You said you loved me,” Dean shoots back.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did you?”

Cas grimaces as he turns his head to face him. “I thought it was obvious.”

Dean swallows. “No, it wasn’t,” he says quietly, “but I’ve never been good at that stuff.”

Cas squints at him. “You are the most emotionally intelligent man I’ve ever met.”

“What?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You expertly navigate and manipulate people’s emotions to get them to talk to you, open up to you, have sex with you,” he lists. “It’s extraordinary to witness.”

Dean makes a choking noise. “Dude,” he says, which tells Cas absolutely nothing. A few more clouds pass by before Dean speaks again. “I guess the signs were there - with you. But I didn’t want to put them together.”

“Why not?”

Dean shrugs, his shoulders scraping almost inaudibly against the soil and grass stems. “Just didn’t.”

“Then that’s why I didn’t tell you. But, Dean-” Cas breaks off. This part of the conversation, despite what Dean said earlier, does not feel the same as others between them. 

Dean’s eyes flick to his. “Yeah?”

“You kissed me.”

Dean inhales a sharp breath. “I did,” he says at last.

Cas waits, but Dean doesn’t elaborate. “Was it just a ploy to get me to leave the Empty?”

“No.”

Cas grimaces. Not for the first time, his life would be so much easier if Dean could communicate without speaking in riddles or hiding every third word he wanted to say. “Dean...”

“I told you I’m working on it,” Dean says defensively.

Cas closes his eyes. “What does that mean?” he asks, his voice strained.

“It means I’m working on it,” Dean says shortly. But before Cas can press him further, he lets out an explosive sigh. “It means I don��t want to hear any more goodbyes from you. It means - it means that kiss wasn’t too bad, right?”

“I thought you were a fake version of yourself created to torture me for eternity,” Cas says flatly.

Dean props himself up on his elbows. “So all I’m hearing is there’s room for improvement.”

Cas rolls his eyes as Dean scoots closer, peering down at him. “I suppose that’s one way you could look at it.”

“Would you wanna... do something like that again?” Dean asks, his expression confident while his voice is anything but.

“Only if you want to,” Cas says seriously.

Dean licks his lips. He nods once, the movement stilted.

“Should I sit up?” Cas asks, frowning, as he half-lifts his head. “Or do you want to lay back down-”

“Cas,” Dean says impatiently, “it’s kissing we’re talking about here, not Twister.”

“I have played that game before.”

“Yeah, I remember now,” Dean says, a tentative smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. “You ever do it naked?”

Cas frowns. “There was a strict policy against nudity in the psychiatric ward.”

Dean ducks his head, laughing silently. His forehead lands on Cas’s sternum, his breath warming Cas’s chest from the outside in.

“You were trying to say something arousing,” Cas says, a beat too late.

Dean shakes his head, grinning. “Something like that.”

“I would like to play naked Twister with you.”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to hear it,” he says as he leans over Cas. Cas goes a bit cross-eyed to keep him in view until Dean murmurs, “Relax. ‘S just me.”

In the instant before their lips meet, Cas half-expects the whole world around him to splatter apart in a tidal wave of black, otherworldly goo. But Dean is gloriously solid, gloriously human, as he cradles Cas’s half-raised head, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

The midday sun shines; the grass whispers in the wind; and Cas is saved.

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Movement (2/?)

Still dedicated to the wonderful @peachworthy. you read part one than you know - GMM Rhink AU - College Student Link/Pornstar Rhett AU

“Got it right again, man! You’re going to ace this test!” Rhett crows as he tosses down another notecard and Link pumps his arms in triumph. The two of them are settled in the kitchen, piles of books and notecards spread around as well as few bottles of beers and some bowls of chips.

Link picks up one chip and pops it into his mouth, grinning at his roommate fondly, “Well, couldn’t’ve done it without you, pal. You are, without a doubt, the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”

“Aw shucks, gonna make me blush,” Rhett laughs even though it’s Link who feels his cheeks actually grow warm, his friend’s laughter a common cause of the occurrence.

They’ve been living together for over a month now and it’s been beyond amazing. Link would’ve never guessed a guy like Rhett and a guy like him would work so well together.

It’s like they’re the world’s weirdest, most convoluted puzzle yet all the pieces click together to form a full picture that is nothing short of a masterpiece. True, there’s a lot about Rhett Link doesn’t know yet (and gosh is there a lot he wants to know) but their friendship is running smoothly.

Well, smoothly save for the massive crush Link has on the guy, albeit he’s doing his damned best to squash it. Yes, Rhett’s attractive and yes, he’s the first guy Link’s ever met that he’s felt a real zing for, but the fact of the matter is – Link would much rather have him as a friend and roommate than lose him as a…well, Link’s not sure if he’d lose him, but the mere possibility keeps Link’s lips sealed.

Besides, it’s okay to crush on someone and never act on it. People do it all the time. Not to mention that it’s a bit…odd to crush on someone in Rhett’s line of work. Isn’t it?

Link can’t think of too many people who will admit to crushing on an adult film star. Regular, mainstream film stars, sure – but adult film stars?

Yeah…

Although, to be frank, Link’s sure there are some that do. And, hopefully, some of them are not the creepy internet troll-y kind of people, but genuine salt of the earth folks like himself. Because, okay, he is crushing on one so…

Rhett is toying with the cards, maybe looking for the next question to quiz Link on when he asks idly, “Y’know, Link – I gotta say, I admire your stamina.”

That remarks makes Link choke on the drink he’s just been consuming, a cough clearing it up some as he croaks, “I’m-I’m sorry?”

Rhett hums noncommittally, as if not noticing the gaffe, “You’ve had yet to grill me about my job. Normally, once folks hear about it, that’s all they want to talk about.”

“Oh,” Link breathes out loosely, “Well, ah-? It-? It just…seemed rude to-to ask…”

“Been over a month living with me now. You telling me you ain’t interested?”

“I didn’t say that!” Link quips back much quicker than he would like, but Rhett just gives him the most perfect smile. All sincere and warm beneath his beard and remember, Link, you’re doing you’re best not to crush on him!

Rhett is still toying with the cards, eyelashes downcast, the very visual definition of shy as he murmurs, “Just sayin’…I don’t mind if you wanna ask some stuff.”

Link’s eyebrows rise in such a way as to damn near bump his glasses off, “Y-You sure?”

Rhett draws in a deep inhale and then sits the cards down. He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat, looking quite serious even despite the casual red flannel and jeans, as if this was more of an interview (or perhaps an interrogation?) than anything else, “Shoot.”

The a million and one questions that Link has kept at bay about Rhett’s job and more personal life threaten to cave his skull in as they crash about in his mind. However, he has to go with the obvious, “Know this’ll be predictable, but…why?”

Rhett just bobs his head in an understanding nod even as Link pushes on, “Why and how?”

Rhett sucks on his teeth before picking up his own beer and taking a fortifying sip before continuing, “The two are kinda interconnected to be honest. Had a fallin’ out with my family. Think I mentioned it in passin’ to you once. But, to clarify; they weren’t too happy with my chosen living destination nor with the fact that I’d come to terms with the notion that I’m attracted to both the ladies and the gents.”

Link’s mind immediately (and joyously) clings to ‘the gents’ remark, bookmarking it for future reference, even as Rhett continues his tale, “You grew up where we did. So you get it.”

Link does. And then, to nail the point home, Rhett adds, “Probably get it a lot more than others. If my…instincts are to be believed.”

Shit.

SHIT.

Link’s whole body immediately bursts into flame, the tips of his ears so hot he’s sure they’re glowing bright red.

Rhett knows I’m gay. He knows. I thought having a radar for that kind of thing was bullhonkey, but he knows and oh, lord, oh lord – do I give off some sorta vibe? I know that girl in my screenwriting class, Stevie, she teased me about being an A-Level twink or something, but I didn’t think-!

Rhett’s laughter carves right through Link’s insecurities, “Take a breath, brother! Look like you’re about to pop!”

Link does and Rhett just shakes his head, still grinning, “Point being – I was pretty much a babe in the woods when I came to LA. Not two nickels to my name, so I took whatever gigs I could get. Managed to snag a few commercials and things of that nature, but you know the drill. Jobs are hard to come by. And a guy of my height?”

He blows out a big breath and tosses all of those luxurious curls about with a rueful head shake, “Yeah, most people fingered me for a baller, so – again – jobs were hard to come by. But then, wouldn’t you know it? A friend of a friend of a contact told me about this part they thought I’d be perfect for.”

Another deep barrel chested chuckle emerges as he reminiscences, “Mighta been nice of ‘em to let me know it was actually a part of me they thought would be perfect.”

Do not zero in on his crotch! Do NOT zero in on his crotch! Charles Lincoln Neal the Third DO NOT-!

Link keeps his eyes so steadfastly forward he probably looks like some bug eyed zombie. If Rhett notices, he doesn't comment, “Anyway, when I found out what the role was, I had planned to politely decline but, y’know, the money they offered…”

There’s an easy shrug and this Link can look at. He looks at Rhett, who looks a bit sheepish as he scratches at one side of his beard, “I mean, again, you grew up where I did. So, you know how the whole ‘wait until marriage’ thing was drilled into your head, but I figured it wasn’t like anybody would know. My family’d cut me off, my friends were few and far in between, and the people on set…”

Now he looks a bit happier and Link can’t help but smile along with him, “The people on set were all right. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the kind of stories people tend to spin – the exploitation, the drug abuse, other questionable stuff…place I was at wasn’t like that. I mean, maybe I just lucked out or something, but it was…”

Another shrug and he goes for his beer again. Link figures this is as good a time as any to get in another question, “So, you did that and then you…? Just kept going?”

Rhett nods as he drinks, the bottle leaving his mouth with an obscene pop that Link is going to do his best to forget all about right now and certainly not recall at any point in the future (and most certainly NOT when he’s jacking off later), “Yeah, I did the one and the director really liked me. He pull me aside and told me about this company he was trying to set up with a couple of buddies of his. They wanted to go in a classier direction – know how funny that sounds, but he was serious.”

“So, what? No, like, blockbuster porno knock offs? Like ‘Sex in The City and ON the City’ or ‘Arma-get-it-on’?”

“Think you stole that last one from an episode of CSI.”

“I did, doesn’t change the question.”

They’re both smiling like a couple of fools, but the mood is good and the atmosphere light as Rhett sighs, “Yeah, nothing like that. I’ve actually worked with a few female directors, shot some things with great budgets, nice lighting, good costumes…”

“Oooo, costumes,” Link teases in the silliest voice and Rhett swats out at him. Link avoids the hit even as Rhett rolls his eyes, “I’m serious, dude. Some of the things that department pumps out looks better than anything you’d see in Hollywood.”

“Hmm, some kinda wood,” Link snickers and this time Rhett’s swat makes impact, brushing Link’s shoulder and Link would be embarrassed by the giggle he lets out, if it weren’t for the way Rhett’s nose is all scrunched up, making him look beyond adorable, “You’re sucha brat!”

Link sticks out his tongue and Rhett just laughs. They turn their attention to the drinks and chips for awhile before Link circles around to another question, “You like it then?”

“It’s a living,” Rhett confirms, not really answering one way or another, “Like I said – make great money, work with some really nice people.”

“Uh,” Link scratches behind one ear, “Hate to ask, but, um…clean people?”

Rhett doesn’t seem offended, “You bet. Have to be. Another reason I’ve done this as long as I have. Money's great, but the safety is even better. I’m currently under contract with that same company I told you about – the one that director brought me under. On top of wanting to,” he air quotes his next words, “be classier’-”

He drops the quotes, “They wanted to provide an excellent work environment. Heck, me and the other actors and actresses probably have a cleaner bill of health than the entire state. Can’t shoot scene one until you’ve got the A-Okay.”

“Huh,” Link absorbs that with some surprise, but then, he supposes it really shouldn’t be. The adult film industry is a big lumbering beast right alongside it’s more recognized counterpart. No reason one shouldn’t be as cautious as the other. If anything, one has more right to be cautious.

Thinking on this, Link suddenly feels an odd pang. It’s a shame in one way that’s one viewed as more reckless than the other, more questionable. But, when viewed through a mostly puritan lens…

Not wanting to get too philosophical, Link switches gears, “You been in a lot of films?”

“My fair share.”

Another dodge, but Link will let him have it. However, he can practically feel devil horns rise as he asks with a naughty gleam to his eye, “Win any awards?”

Rhett’s practically preening, “Several.”

“Really?” Link asks with some surprise, but Rhett suddenly looks quite naughty himself. Naughty and…a bit too hot for Link’s liking as the heat that always seems to surround him when he’s near Rhett rises and woo boy, he’s really failing at this squashing-the-crush thing.

“If you’re a good boy, maybe I’ll show you one of my trophies some time…”

Everything in Link melts into a puddle and he’s not sure what expression he’s wearing, but it’s one that makes Rhett’s whole face light up, “…or maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you a little somethin’ else…”

If it’s possible for a melted puddle to also explode, then Link’s just done it. Rhett bursts into guffaws as he reaches forward and, very smoothly, pushes Link’s jaw up because Link’s jaw? It dropped. He didn’t even feel it drop.

And then, to just add more fuel to the fire, Rhett rubs the pad of his thumb along the bottom of Link’s chin, right below his lip, “Damn, son…you’re just too much for words.”

“I…”

That’s it.

That’s all that Link can offer.

Just one sound, one vowel.

Silent and stunned and Rhett draws back, looking like the cat that ate the canary as he lets him go and rises up from his seat, “Think you need a moment. I’ll be back in a bit.”

And – just like that – Rhett saunters out of the room.

[marvelobsessedteenager]

All The Hurt - Chapter 5

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: had to make this one short because the next one is hella long

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Phew, all right,” you wheezed through fast pants as you finally reached the computer room, hand numb and aching from the dripping ice pack in your palm, “you need to explain to me what’s happening. Because- man, I’m out of shape.” You placed your hands on your hips and bent slightly for a moment, taking a huge gulp of air before marching over to Ned and giving him the pack, “I’m confused as fuck, Ned.”

One of his hands continued its work while the other reached out to grab the pack. His fingers continued to type away with speed you’d never seen before as he spoke, eyes never leaving the screen, "Okay, long story short, the day you were at the bodega-” you flinched, “-was the same day that bank was robbed using high tech weapons. Those weapons were part human and part alien, and were being created by a dude who has wings on his back. Peter found out that that guy is Liz’s dad, and now Peter’s going after him to stop him from selling even more weapons.”

He hissed as he placed the ice on his eye. You blinked, nodding once as you felt entranced by the layered codes on Ned’s screen. It was weird how you understood it and read them like they were normal words and letters. You mentally thanked your summer coding camp for the extra knowledge. "I..feel like there’s a lot more to the story than that but yeah, okay, I got it.”

A buzzing from your purse interrupted your entrancement. You shook your head and opened your purse, pulling out your vibrating phone.

Incoming call from..Flash.

You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes, taking a seat across from Ned and starting up your own computer, "Now’s really not a good time, E.”

"It’s not Flash, it’s Peter!” Peter practically screamed, making you wince from his panic-stricken voice and loud background noise that was filled with New York’s most obnoxious honks.

"Wha- did you steal Flash’s phone?” You asked incredulously, putting him on speaker while you typed away, hearing the same swift clicking coming from Ned’s side.

“No! I asked him for it!” He paused for a moment, “And his car!”

“What?!”

“You stole Flash’s car?” Ned asked, jaw-dropping and eye-widening in amazement, “Cool!”

“Yeah, it’s awesome, it’s awesome!”

"Peter! You’ve never driven before! How can you be driving?!” You scolded, suddenly feeling a twist in your gut at the thought of an accident due to his lack of experience in driving. Peter was never one to make impulsive decisions as dangerous as this. You guessed he changed over the months that passed.

"I know, this is a really big step for me and- ahhhhh! Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” Your hands froze in their place as you awaited a crash with a thundering heart, but it never came, which made you sigh in relief. The engine’s sound increased in volume as the car accelerated, but Peter’s voice was still louder, "I can’t see anything in this car!"

"Which car did you..borrow?” You asked, fingers returning back to work. You figured if you could help him, he’d get out of the vehicle at a much faster rate, and all you wanted to do was keep him safe and unharmed.

"How many does he own?” Peter asked in awe, honking the horn multiple times and screaming a couple of‘ move’s!

"Not important right now! What’s the logo of the car?"

"The four Olympic circle thingies."

"An Audi.” You said under your breath. Thank God, you thought, a car I'm familiar with, “Do you know how to turn the headlights on?

"No!"

"There’s a knob on the left of the steering wheel. Turn it clockwise.”

Peter repeated your instructions, and released a small laugh of victory, ”How’s Ned doing with Happy?”

“Uh,” You peeked over your screen, noticing beads of sweat form on Ned's forehead, even with the cool ice helping his eye, “Ned?”

"Getting to him..” He said, not paying you any attention.

"Have you found my phone yet?” Peter asked.

"Working on it, sit tight,” you replied, finally seeing a moving blue dot pop up on your screen, "He’s on Jackson Avenue and 48th Street."

“Perfect! And Happy?”

You once again awaited Ned’s answer, and worried when a distressed look flashed upon his face, “He hung up on me.” He frowned, "I’ll try again.”

You looked back down at your screen and realized that the blue dot had suddenly stopped moving. You squinted, “Hey, he stopped at 10th street and 43rd avenue in Brooklyn.”

"What? That makes no sense!"

"Welcome to my world,” you mumbled, hearing a small chuckle come from Ned before he focused on talking to Happy again.

“He said he was going out of town!” Peter explained, obviously having heard you, but it did nothing to diffuse your confusion. Why would Liz’s dad stop in Brooklyn when he said he was leaving?

"Weird..” You commented, rubbing your eyebrow as you started to feel the pressure. Jesus Christ, is this what Peter goes through?

“Dammit,” Ned muttered, catching your attention, "Happy sounded like he was catching a flight,” he said, “he mentioned something about taking off in nine minutes."

"What?” You and Peter simultaneously said, and you fought the butterflies that made their way to your stomach. Now’s not the time.

"He was surrounded by a bunch of boxes,” Ned clarified.

“Boxes?” Peter wondered out loud, and you were sure you could see his face as he put two and two together, "It’s moving day! It’s moving day, it’s moving day, he’s gonna rob that plane, I gotta stop him! Shit, I don’t know how to get the directions on this car.”

You jumped at the chance to help again, pleased that Peter finally had a destination to get to, "I’ve got his location, I’ll lead you.” You pulled up Flash’s location from the Find My Friends app, eyes jumping back and forth between your phone and the computer’s screen as you voiced the directions to Peter.

Peter’s foot pressed harder on the gas pedal, causing too much skidding, and you had to try your best to hold your tongue as to not to be a backseat driver. You wondered if you were in the position to berate Peter for impulsively stealing Flash’s possessions and driving recklessly. You found it amusing that the crime fighting Spider-Man had committed two crimes as of tonight.

"Slow down, there’s a right turn up ahead. You’re gonna take it.” You directed, just as Peter’s dot passed his exit, "Parker! Turn right, turn right!”

Peter screamed as the engine roared and the car skidded so loud you were barely able to hear his web shoot out. Your eyes widened in fear as you heard metal grinding against the concrete before coming to a halt with a harsh thump. Peter’s hasty breathing seemed match yours.

"Are you okay?!” You and Ned asked, your voice cracking and brain melting.

"I’m okay.” He breathed, making you drop your head in relief, shoulders easing up, "Just keep trying to get through to Happy.”

"It’s been an honor, Spider-Man.” Ned saluted, and you gave him a look of disapproval.

But then you both turned your heads at the piercing sound of high heels clicking in the hallways that were getting louder as the person headed in your direction. Ned’s face became as white as a sheet, surely matching yours.

'What do we do?' He mouthed, eyes rapidly bouncing back and forth between the door and you.

You bit your lip and glanced at the door before sighing and getting on your feet, “I’ll distract her,” You whispered, removing all traces from the computer, “keep calling Happy.”

Ned nodded in affirmation as you straightened out your dress and took a deep breath, cautiously opening the computer room’s door and stepping outside. Ms.Warren was peeping into the science lab across the computer room, and you took this as your chance to make it look like you were just making your way in.

She turned around and jumped, “Jesus!” She placed a hand on her chest, “What are you doing-“

She stepped closer and squinted at your figure in the dark, “Y/n,” she seethed.

She said your name with poison dancing on her tongue, causing a deep frown to settle between her eyebrows as she popped her hip and crossed her arms, "What are you doing here? There’s a dance, and you know it’s prohibited to be in this area.”

“I know, Ms.Warren,” you surpassed the urge to literally bite this woman’s head off and pretended to be vulnerable for a moment. You looked down at your feet, trying to conjure up an excuse that was easy to believe - Ms.Warren wasn’t exactly gullible, and wasn’t fond of you, either. Your reputation for causing trouble in her class cost you her trust, but you frankly couldn’t give a fuck. Plus, it was fun to mess around with her, what’s one more time?

“I just..” Your mind went blank as her eyes searched yours, a small glint of mischief shining in them. Oh, you bet she fantasized about the day she’d get you expelled from Midtown, but you weren’t ever going to let her see that day. So, you did what you always did when you got into trouble.

Play the absent parents' card.

“I just..I just w-wanted to call my dad. It’s quiet in here.” You said, faking your wobbly voice. No teacher liked it when they had to deal with crying students, especially those who hid the fact that they had no role models around them, like yourself. A look of confusion flashed in her eyes.

You were getting somewhere.

“It’s just..h-he’s been gone for so long, Ms. Warren, and I never see him. He called me tonight, and he never has before.” You fiddled with the ends of your hair, “What if he tells me he’s here? Here to see me? While I’m partying down t-there?” You sniffed for extra effect, somehow feeling your eyes swell with tears.

Weird.

You took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling to make it look like you were trying to hold yourself from falling apart, “I-I just wanted to call him,” you repeated, thickening your voice even more, “maybe he’ll apologize for never being there for me, especially after m-mom left us when I was ten.” You were almost impressed with yourself as you felt hot tears run down your face, traced with the mascara you applied before coming here.

In Ms.Warren’s shadow, you could tell her eyebrows were furrowed, and she was looking anywhere but you, clearly trying to choose between two options.

“I’ve never had a parent in my life.” You pushed, "No one taught me how to ride a bike, or swim, a-and I feel so left out because all the other kids have parents and I don’t!”

You grabbed onto her arms, looking her dead in the eye, “Please, please, just let me piece my life back together. Let me call him.”

For a moment, you swore you saw her demeanor soften. Just a moment where you felt like she understood you, not pitied you. But, just as quick as it came, it disappeared when she cleared her throat and looked around.

“Okay, okay.” She sighed, "But make it quick,” she stepped back from your grasp, ready to bolt, but you took the chance to make her slightly more uneasy.

What?

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, of course you were going to take it.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” You sprung into her, arms folding around her tightly as she stiffened, clearly feeling uncomfortable about the affection you were displaying. You breathed in through your nose, hard, and nearly laughed when you felt her hands on your shoulders, trying to peel you off of her with a face of disgust.

“Don’t mention it, s-sweetie.” She said, discreetly rubbing her hands on her dress, "You better go now before your dad gets busy again.”

“You're right, you’re right."

And for your final act, you pretended to sniff and wipe your nose with your arm, catching Ms. Warrner’s eye twitch. She was known for being a massive germaphobe, which really only came in handy during her class - until now.

She cleared her throat once again, turned around, and marched down the hallway, practically running away from you until she was gone. You placed a hand over your mouth, muffling your giggles as you entered the computer room once again, slowly closing the door behind you.

“She’s gone?” Ned swiveled in his chair to face you, cracking a smile when you happily nodded and wiped at your face.

“How about you? What’d Happy say?” You walked over to him, running your eyes over the lengthy call history, which was mainly filled with declined calls from your side.

“Um,” Ned rubbed his arm in shame, “he cursed. A lot. And he..he blocked me,”

Your face dropped, hearing Ned sigh and imitating him.

“What do we do now?” Ned asked, desperate as ever.

You waited for a moment, feeling a lightbulb go off in your head as you rushed to the other side and opened your phone.

“Give me his number,” You said, dialing the number Ned voiced to you and putting him on speaker. You crossed your fingers and waited for him to pick up, each ring only causing you more anxiety.

“Yeah?” Happy said, sounding quite annoyed.

“Well, damn, you don’t sound like a Happy to me. You sound like a grumpy.” You rolled your eyes, immediately regretting what you said.

“Not this shit again,” He said angrily, and you were pretty sure he was going to hang up, making you panic all over again.

“Someone’s going to steal Mr. Stark’s shit!” You blurted, wincing when you heard nothing from the other line for a moment. You were going to check if he hung up on you when you heard a, “what?”

“T-the plane!” You exclaimed, "The plane with all of Tony’s stuff! There’s a guy who’s going to steal it and Parker’s going to stop him!”

“You know what? How about you tell Parker that he has some delusional, weird fr-“ His voice suddenly faded out, “Holy shit.” He breathed.

“What? What happened?”

"The plane just crashed.”

Your heart dropped to the feet as the color drained from your face, feeling the blood rushing through your ears and fear spiking in your chest. Somehow, somehow, you knew Peter was where the crash was, and you feared the worst possible outcome. You didn’t even hang up as you rounded the table, picked up your keys, and ran out the door.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

tags: @peachescream06

[thermaflute]

Can I get the 3 main boys going on a roadtrip through the states with their s/o? Thank you! 💚💚💚

This is so cute sfgvbgyyj. I love roadtrips but real talk, driving through the US is messy, especially the south. Potholes be the size of craters and the highway has eternal road work 🙄.

Katsuki Bakugo

He’s honestly the overpacker, I’m talking “What if I shit myself 4 days in a row” overpacker. 

How does he manage to pack it into the trunk of the sports car? You don’t know, you don’t even ask, you just trust the process.

Make sure you have what you need in the front because he’ll chew you out if he has to open that trunk for anything that isn’t unloading at the destination.

You’re blasting music and punching him because the song just goes that hard. 

Poor baby is just trying to drive. 

He does find it a little cute but you know he’ll be a hardass about it. 

He speeds, but only by a little or when he’s angry. He gets frustrated at traffic and will most definitely start weaving through it.

“None of this shit would happen if people just knew how to drive.”

“Whoa, we were really close to that car there.”

“I know.” He deadass just groans at you and will continue to maneuver through cars as if it was nothing. 

He'll eventually get sick of it and just take toll routes.

Y'all really won't stop at rest stops, breaks come in the form of getting gas. Which is your chance to pile up on snacks and drinks! 

Buy him a slushy and it'll calm him down for the rest of the ride.

He'll try to avoid getting junk food but will inevitably stop at McDonald's for dinner.

"Why does every damn stop have a McDonalds or Subway?"

You shrug at him with a mouth full of chicken nuggets.

He'll lovingly roll his eyes at you and then proceed to steal your drink.

He refuses to switch out during the day, but when it comes to driving at night that’s all you. 

He absolutely doesn't want to stop for too long so he'll sleep at night and will probably switch back with you closer to the morning. He needs his beauty sleep.

Shoto Todoroki

Look, my guy has the opposite problem. He doesn’t know how to pack. Y’all going on a ski trip? He’s packing shorts and a tee. Heading to the beach? Sweater upon sweater. Sure the temp most likely doesn’t bother him but for the sake of fashion, you gotta intervene.

Everything fits neatly in the back while simultaneously remaining easily accessible. Grabing extra stuff is easy with him.

He speeds like no other, not because he means to but because he quite literally doesn’t notice. 

Like you’re trying to drop hints and he’s not budging so you have to be direct.

“Slow it down, are you trying to get a ticket?” 

“Oh, sorry I didn't realize I was speeding.”

He slows down for like 2 minutes and then is back to doing 100. 

For someone who claims to not notice he'll also suspiciously slow down when he sees a cop car.

You guys actually spend a lot of time at rest stops. A little stretch easily turns into a conversation over the snacks you two packed. He really enjoys the trip itself so he's all for those little lingering moments.

He doesn’t mind switching (he actually prefers that you drive because he rarely does it). 

He doesn’t fall asleep when he’s in the passenger seat, he just talks to you about anything he can think of or stares at the passing scenery. Dreamy, if it weren't for the weird ass billboards.

"Why is that sign telling me to repent or burn in hell?"

"I've been asking that question for years dude."

He’s not the type to want to stay on the road forever, he’ll just get a hotel when it starts getting too late. And yes, breakfast is included. 

Izuku Midoriya

He’s a perfect packer and manages to grab all the essentials, extras, and still have a lot of space left. He’s done with the bags way in advance so when the day comes really all you have to do is get on the road. 

You two queue up music you both like before hitting the road so no one gets left out.

He sings quite a bit and would love and appreciate it if you sing with him.

He doesn't speed. He's obsessed with being close to the speed limit or the speed of traffic, you probably have to tell him he's going too slow sometimes. 

He's the type to go use the restroom and come back with 400 flyers from nearby attractions, 2 coupon books, and real estate magazines.

"Baby, we're not even passing through that area."

"We can go next time though!"

"For a paper factory tour?..."

"Well, maybe not that one." 

It's ridiculous but you gotta admit the coupon deal helps when you're stopping for dinner.

Y'all will pick out houses from the real estate book and joke about moving in. Well, you're joking, he's taking mental notes of what you like.

Despite being a nervous driver, he prefers to drive because he wants you to be comfortable, you'll really have to beg him to switch with you.

If he gives in, he'll seem uncomfortable just relaxing but will eventually settle into the seat. He might even fall asleep. 

He actually isn't the hotel type but also won't strain to never stop. You two will probably stop at a rest stop and take a short nap together. Sure its not the most comfortable, but you can't really beat looking at the stars through the sunroof as you fall asleep.

[twokinkybeans]

Touch Me, Please [Starker Fic] Pt.3

Summary: Tony Stark has never told anyone that he’s still a virgin. He doesn’t want to sleep with people who only want him because of his outward persona. So instead, he hires an escort. Things get a little more heated than either of them had expected. Tags/Warnings: Escort!Peter, Virgin!Tony, nff, nsfw, sexual tension, teasing, Peter is 22, Tony is 53, oral sex, 69. Taglist: @starkerswonderland @staticwhispersinthedark @starkerprince @parkers-stark​ @bluestarker (let me know if you want to be added!)

Notes: I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S BEEN 2 MONTHS SINCE I POSTED FOR THIS I'M SO SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT Y'ALL!!! I come bearing good news though! This was supposed to have three parts, but the plot started living its own life and now we're definitely having a fourth part as well ehehehe. Hope y'all enjoy! -Kim

Read the fic here on AO3

Or click here to find the previous chapters: Chapter 1 Chapter 2

-

Peter knows he’s fucked. Absolutely, terribly, fucked.

And to be honest… Even that’s an understatement.

Peter clutches his coat tighter and fastens his pace. He’s snuck out of the enormous labyrinth that’s Tony’s home, and is now on his way to the bureau’s HQ. It’s still early in the morning, a little over 7 am, and Peter hopes to catch one of his managers before they start their meeting.

Peter made a grave mistake, and all he can do is spill it all out and pray that he can keep his job. He’s had unsafe sex with a customer. If there’s one thing that he should pay close attention to, it’s that. He never made a mistake like this before. However, with Tony, he completely threw his cool and composed sugar baby persona out the door; his mind lost to the wealthy man he only met last night. Tony may claim to be a virgin, which according to his eager yet sloppy techniques isn’t too hard to believe, but still. Peter shouldn’t have risked it.

He eyes the building in front of him and hesitates. He could just get a test done without his bosses knowing; play sick until he gets the results. But if they were to find out… He’d lose his job for sure. And contrary to popular belief, he’s not in the industry just for the money. He likes his career. 

In good faith, Peter steps forward and presses the doorbell.

-

Tony wakes up when a golden glow casts over his body. He smiles groggily. In his haze last night, he must’ve forgotten to close the curtains. He sighs and turns around, grabbing the sheets to tug them up a little higher. Slowly, the surroundings are getting to him. The distant sound of traffic rushing through the busy streets of NYC. The buzz of the elevator as it sweeps past his floor...

...and the complete lack of another human’s breath.

Tony swallows and his eyes flutter open. A harsh sting rips through his chest when he sees his bed is indeed empty.  “Peter?” He calls out, half-heartedly expecting an answer but not at all surprised when it stays dead silent.

-

It’s safe to say that the following days, Tony is in such a sour mood that his employees nearly cringe each time he walks across the room. He should’ve never hired an escort to have his first-ever sexual encounter with. The plan was destined to fail from the get-go, and it had. 

“Tony?”

Tony turns around to find Pepper standing in the doorway of his private office. Pepper has been his personal assistant for years now, and he is aware that he wouldn’t survive a single day without her skills in his company. She’s seen his worst more often than not - and she doesn’t deserve to be the one to take his anger - but Tony can’t help but glare. “What?” “Jeez, they were right. You’re a fucking asshole today.” Pepper says calmly and raises her eyebrows as she closes the door behind her. Tony can feel some of the tension fade from his posture and he casts his eyes down.

“What happened?” She proceeds to ask. Tony shrugs. How could he tell her? “I did something stupid.” “I figured as much.” The PA places a stack of files onto his desk and sits down in the chair opposite of him. “Personal troubles, or Stark Industries-related?” “Personal.” “Ah, good. That’s one less of a worry.”

Tony glares again, but this time it’s more playful. Pepper smirks. “Gotcha,” she hums, seemingly pleased with herself. “Now, tell me what happened.” “I can’t.” “I’m sure you can, it’s-” “It’s too embarrassing, Pep. Please, I gotta deal with this by myself.” Pepper raises her eyebrow at his words and leans onto the wooden surface.  “Then deal with it before you drag Stark Industries into whatever it is.” She shoves the stack of paper forward and smiles faintly. “After you deal with these, of course.”

“Of course.”

-

It’s late in the evening, and Tony swirls the whiskey around in his glass. He finished the work right before dinnertime and decided to take the rest of the night off.

Deal with it.

Tony snorts. How could he? Peter left. It’s plain and simple that the kid didn’t want to stay. His pretty, sweet words had been nothing but lies and deception, and Tony feels like a goddamn fool for falling for the act. Peter is an escort. Pleasing people, telling them what they want to hear, it’s his job. Tony can’t blame him. He only blames himself.

Yet, it doesn’t keep him from grabbing his phone and navigating towards the escort website. He sniffs once, finding his way to the catalog. It should be easy to find Peter. Right? Tony scrolls down the list and frowns when he hits the bottom of the page. Mmh. He scrolls back up and sits a little more upright when he can’t seem to find Peter’s picture. He taps the search bar and types in his name.

No results found.

In a wave of panic, Tony types out the bureau’s number to contact them and waits anxiously. He has no intention of bothering Peter ever again, but now that it seems he vanished, it makes him feel strangely panicked. As if every link he had to the boy is simply gone. As if nothing ever happened.

Except something did happen.

“Good evening, this is Eva. How may I help you?” “Uhmm- Hi. It’s Mr. Stark. I’m, eh, I’m looking to book Peter again? He was here last night?” “Oh, I’m terribly sorry to inform you, sir, but I’m afraid Peter is temporarily unavailable. I could put you on the waiting list for when he returns?” “Please.”

And like a stupid idiot, he disconnects straight after. He sniffs and lowers his phone. He wonders if he just made another mistake.

-

Peter sucks at his teeth, his foot restlessly tapping onto the floor. He looks at his scheduled bookings and stares at the one empty spot. There’s only one client left to call, but Peter doesn’t know if he should. After a long tirade, and thankfully, a negative STD test, he’s back in the game and good to go. But, if he couldn’t keep himself together last time… He’s not sure if it’d be professional to go back to Tony.

Sweet, innocent, handsome Tony.

“Hey,” Harley pokes his head past Peter’s shoulder and grins. “I see you’re free tonight. My pal Dave is throwing a party at the Frizzles. Wanna come?” Peter rolls his eyes at his coworker and grins. “And get Dave to hopelessly flirt with me again? No, thank you.” “Oh, come on!” Harley throws his hands into the air in desperation. “Dave is your type!” “He’s not,” Peter grumbles, nearly shuddering at the idea. “Good fella, but no, not for me. Y’know I’m into rich old classy dudes. Heck, so are you!” “Hey, no need to attack me.” Harley lowers his bum on the edge of Peter’s desk and cocks his head. “You barely ever have a night off. Don’t you wanna have some fun? I’ll try and keep Dave off your back.” “Well…” Peter sighs and stares back at the empty spot in his schedule.

“I actually have a client.” “What do you mean?” “It’s the last free spot, and I have one more client to secure a booking with me. I just…” Harley frowns, his face displaying a sudden seriousness. “Peter, did this client hurt you?” “What? No!” “Then why are you looking all gloomy at the mere thought of that one client? Is he- Did he force you to not use protection? Peter, we can have him blacklisted, and-” “It’s not at all like that, please Harls, I promise.” “Then tell me why the fuck you’re so strange about it. You’re never strange around clients. Fuck ‘em, get them hooked for more and tadaa, that’s a healthy clientele, it’s how you taught me.”

Peter groans out loud in frustration and shoves his chair back a little, trying to distance himself from the scribbled down phone number at his desk. “I like him!” “What?” “I… I like him. Dammit. He’s really fucking different than the rest of them. I’ve only slept with him once, but he’s got me hooked, not the other way around.” “Then why’d he call us again? Eva told me he sounded pretty nervous.”

Peter’s face loses all color when Harley’s words crash down on him, crumbling the reality he’d build around himself. “No, no Harley, don’t enable me on this one. It’s bad luck. I shouldn’t do it.” Peter scrunches his nose. “Tell Dave I’ll be at the party.”

Harley simply grins, his eyes glimmering mischievously as if there’s something only he knows and Peter doesn’t. “Sure thing.”

-

It’s been two weeks since the damned party. Peter doesn’t feel any better about himself. As expected, Dave had followed him around all evening. Harley, traitor he is, was nowhere to be found. In the end, Peter couldn’t take it anymore, and he straight up told Dave he wasn’t interested. Thank god the lad took it pretty well, but it doesn’t make Peter feel any less shitty about it.

Peter really should just focus on his job and put his mind away from both Dave and Tony. It’s for the best. He sighs and stares at the next appointment on his list. The name is hidden, a feature they have for clients who are high in on their privacy. Peter sighs and grabs his car keys to go to the appointment. 

-

Tony’s tapping his foot anxiously while he tries not to stare at the elevator. It’s needless to say he’s not doing a very good job at doing so. Peter’s going to be here again. Oh, God. Tony can’t shake the feeling that maybe he shouldn’t have accepted the booking when Peter’s coworker called him.

[1a-imagines]

Can I request hcs/scenario for Deku? They meet Pre-OfA and he starts crushing on her, nd she’s just oblivious even in UA? Thanks!

Puppy crush:

Characters: Midoriya

Type: Just a very fluffy scenario.

Overview: Midoriya's got a crush on the most oblivious person in school, and is trying his best to confess to her, though all his attempts seem to end is disaster.

"Good morning, Midoriya!"

"AAH! G-GOOD MORNING Y-Y/N!"

You let out a laugh at his upbeat attitude, not thinking to question the stuttering or the blush on his face as you passed him and walked into the school.

"Wow.. that was painful to watch." Midoroya heard Kaminari mutter from behind him.

"I do not understand… why don't you just confess already?" Iida chimed in as he followed a defeated looking Midoriya into school. He had yet again made a fool of himself in front if you. Barely managing out a stuttered reply as you greeted him. It was a repeating occurrence that happened everyday. He just couldn't stop himself from feeling tense around you. His heart beat always accelerated to a pace that knocked his breath away, and no matter how many times he tried not to, all he could ever focus on whenever you talked to him was your soft lips. He was turning into a walking disaster and it was starting to drive him insane.

Which is why he kept making an idiot of himself around you. "I-I can't just confess to her! It's not that easy.."

Kaminari raised an eyebrow. "So what? You plan to keep being an awkward mess everyday?"

'That's how I've lived my life so far izuku' thought bitterly. He couldn’t even imagine himself getting enough courage to tell you how he feels! Not to mention all the other things that were holding him back.

He sure he had no chance to be with someone like you. You were beautiful, smart, funny, caring, way out of his league. He didn’t notice himself letting out a dreamy sigh as the very thought of you.

"Oh man, you got it real bad huh?" Kaminari nudged his arm with an amused smile.

The embarrassment seeped in almost immediately. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t hide his attraction to you. Everyone in class had noticed the way he looked at you, how he always stood a bit too close to you without realising it, or how his face turned red anytime you so much as glanced at him. Everybody knew… everybody except you. If he was honest he was thankful that you were too oblivious to notice how obviously in love with you he was. He couldn’t even imagine how horrified he would feel if you found out! He could already feel a shiver run down his spine at the thought of your rejection.

“Confessing might not be easy but maybe it’s for the best? You’re constantly worried that she might find out and not only that, you’ve said quite a few times that you get distracted from your studies by the mere thought of her? This cannot carry on if it’s affecting your education!! You should confess and depending on her reaction you will either be able to relax into a relationship or learn to move on.” He couldn’t deny that Iida had a good point. A lot of his problems would go away if he just manned up a little and confessed to you But he was sure he would be rejected on the spot and his heart could take that kind of hit!

His friends shared a glance as they took notice of his inner turmoil.

“We can help you, dude! I am pretty good with the ladies!”

“You’d really do that?” He looked over to them, a spark of hope in his eyes. Maybe it was lame to have your friends help you with asking a crush out but what other choice did he have? He had no confidence to outright say it to you but you’d never figure it out otherwise! No matter how he acted you always seemed to brush it off as friendly. Even though his face turned red whenever you spoke to him, even though his eyes would avoid yours at all costs, even though he'd trip over his words and make a complete mess of himself. You never caught onto his affections. It felt hopeless.

“Of course we'll help you! Anything for a fellow classmate and friend!”

~~~~

“Hey! Y/n! Come sit with us!” Kaminari said, already dragging you over to his table and not leaving much room for you to protest. “Oh- ok?”

You walked over with him to the table, but when you got there he pushed you to sit down in between Midoriya and himself, though when he plopped down next to you he sat down so close you were forced to be squished up against Izuku. Of course, you never thought to question the behaviour, you didn’t seem too bothered by the close proximity either and began to dig into your lunch.

With your shoulders pressed so tightly together you could feel his body trembling. You turned to him, your eyes filled with worry. "Izuku what's wrong? Are you cold?"

"N-no! I'm fine!" He squeaked.

'Not fine. This is not fine!!' You were so close!! He was too scared to move. He tried to shuffle over a bit but was met with the end of his seat and he almost ended up on the floor. He looked over your shoulder to Kaminari, who was grinning. He sent Midoirya a thumbs up before mouthing "talk to her."

He sighed, this isn’t exactly what he had in mind when he agreed to let them help, but he might as well take the opportunity while you were still here. Who knows when the next chance he could talk to you might be? “So- uh.. How was your day?” He scrambled to find a conversation topic but he assumed he didn’t choose well when he saw Kaminari slap his forehead at his choice.  

“Pretty good! I still hate maths class though, it’s so hard.” You said, mouth full of food. You even had a piece of rice stuck to our cheek and he felt his heart melt at the sight. The way his eyes softened as you talked to him about class did not go unseen by the other two sitting at the table. Honestly, how could you not see the way he smiled at you? It was the dorkiest grin in the world! Iida and Kaminari shared a glance. You really were that oblivious to his affections for you? This was going to be harder than they thought.

“Cute~” He sighed dreamily.

“What?”

“AHH NOTHING!” Midoriya screamed. The way you stared at him with a blank gaze made him want to hit his head off the table. This was so embarrassing, how did he manage to say that outloud?! He couldn't believe that really just happened.

Eventually you let out a giggle, “I think you’re cute too!” You reached over to ruffle his hair. It was such a friendly gesture, he knew you meant nothing by it. It was like something a best friend would do and it killed him inside. You really didn’t see him romantically at all?

“”Well! I’m finished now! Thanks for letting me sit with you, See you guys later!” You stood up and walked off. As soon as you were gone Midoriya let his head fall into his arms on the table. Trying to hide his shame from the rest of the world. “Dude… Even I felt that...” Kaminari shook his head empathetically.

“What do you mean? She said he was cute too! That’s a success, is it not?” Iida was clearly confused as to why the other two looked so defeated. “It was the way she said it, like she was talking to a puppy or a baby rather than a romantic interest.” Kaminari explained before turning to the sulking boy next to him. “Don't worry! We’ll get it next time! You just got to be more forward!”

--

“Are you sure about this?”

“Don’t worry! We’ll be right behind you! All you gotta do is ask her out on the walk to the dorms! It’s quiet and the sun's setting! It’ll be totally romantic! You got this.” Kaminari gave him a thumbs up and Iida followed his suit though he wasn’t sure he could really be much help other than support. He had about as much knowledge on this subject matter than Midoriya did.

With one deep inhale through his nose to calm himself down Midoriya walked over to you when he saw you leaving the school. “Hey y/n! Want to walk back together?”

“Oh? Sure!” Your smile was so radiant and it rendered him speechless again. For a while the walk was silent, but didn’t feel uncomfortable, It was peaceful. Even just being in your presence felt warm. It made him giddy to know that you were walking beside him. It was a strange yet euphoric feeling to be so in love-

‘I’m… in love with her..’ The realisation that his feelings had grown stronger than just some puppy crush hit him like a truck. His hands tightened around the straps of his backpack.

He realised he didn’t have much longer before you two reached your destination. He turned around to see his friends walking at a distance behind him. They gestured to him to go for it and he took another deep breath. These were serious feelings now, they weren’t something he could take lightly or forget about. He loved you, and whether or not you reject him, he needs you to know.

Before he knew it his feet stopped walking and when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore you turned around. Tilting your head, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I have something I wanted to ask you.”

You hummed in confusion, gesturing for him to go on. He looked tense, his lips were pressed together tightly as if he were holding something back and it was about to burst. “Whats-”

“Please go out with me!”

There was a small silence, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you after his outburst. He didn’t have a single clue as to what you could be thinking right now, the silence was torturous.

“I’d love to.”

His legs almost gave out when you spoke. He was finally able to look up at you, his eyes shining so brightly, his smile spreading across his cheeks, despite him trying to hold it back.. He felt like he was on cloud nine, he couldn’t believe this was really happening.

“Where are we going to go? Oh! We should invite the others too!”

And like that his whole world came crashing down around him.

“Others..?” He croaked out in disbelief. Th-There's no way… there's no way you could misinterpret that! He had been so forward with you and yet you still thought he was just being friendly?

This couldn’t be happening.

He saw your lips moving but couldn’t hear a word you said. You jumped happily and began walking back to the dorms. He followed you, just barely managing to drag his body along the path, he didn't say another word- Hell! He couldn’t even think. His brain was fried. He felt completely hopeless.

“Well! I better go get some studying done! See you later!” You gave him one last smile and disappeared down the hall. Midoriya crashed down onto the nearest couch. He wanted to scream into the pillows but that was just childish. He opted for shoving his face into the plush cushions instead, once again hiding his shame from the world.

“So… I’m guessing it didn’t go well then..” He heard Iida ask.

He couldn’t even find it in him to lift his face from the pillows as he replied, “I asked if she wanted to go out with me and she said we should invite the others..” his muffled voice came.

“Yikes..” Kaminari muttered.

��Perhaps you should take a break for today? It may not have been as successful as you hoped but you can always try again tomorrow! Don't give up!” Iida cheered.

Midoriya agreed, it was time to call it quits for today. His soul, his pride, his confidence just couldn’t handle another blow like that. He wasn’t even sure he would be recovered by tomorrow. He was starting to doubt that you would ever understand how deep his feelings for you were.

He spent the rest of the evening, studying, training, honestly? Just about anything as long as he could distract himself from reliving the embarrassing memories from today.

Though, no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't let it go. They kept replaying in his mind, he could barely focus on anything. It was driving him crazy! When he was eating dinner it reminded him of the awkward lunch he had with you, and when he went on a jog he was reminded on the walk back from school. The memories were still so vivid in his head and he still strung from the sort-of-rejection.

What if you did know about his feelings for you but were just too nice to reject him? Did you think he couldn’t handle it? Sure, it would hurt, a lot, but he just wanted some answers! He wanted to know if he ever stood a chance to be with you!

He couldn’t take it anymore. In a sudden burst of confidence he marched up to your room before curfew. He couldn’t live with himself if he let this one chance slip away from him, if he let you slip away from him. Even if you didn’t feel the same, he just had to know. This whole song and dance was slowly killing him. He was going to be upfront with you and finally put an end to all of it!

When he was standing outside your door it took him a few seconds to work up the courage to actually knock. Why was he still hesitating? He shook his head, he had to do this. No backing out now!

He knocked and it only took a few seconds for you to open the door. It was getting late and you looked sleepy, you were in comfy clothes, your eyes half lidded as you rubbed at them. He bit his lip, hoping he didn’t wake you up, but this was something that had to be done. He was sure if he left it until tomorrow his confidence would fade and so would his chance to express his feelings.

But seeing how sleepy you looked- It was so cute! Why did your face make his mind go blank? You made him weak at the knees and despite coming here with full confidence it slipped a little when he remembered how beautiful, and way out of his league, you were.

“Midoriya? What are you doing here?” You muttered.

“I need to say something!” He stood tall, his lack of stutter surprised even himself.

“When I asked if you wanted to go out I didn’t mean like a friendly group outing..” This time he was able to stare into your eyes, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. You were suddenly wide awake when you saw how serious he looked “I want to go out with you! But only with you. Because I-”

‘Don’t freeze up now!’ He mentally scolded himself.

“Because I have feelings for you. “ you opened your mouth to reply but he shook his head and spoke up before you could. “More than friends. Actually.. I think I might be in love with you. So please don’t take this the wrong way, because I don’t think i’ll ever have enough courage to confess to you again.” He sent you a lopsided smile.

Your lips parted, your eyes blinking rapidly as you processed the sudden confession. “So when we were walking back to the dorms together you meant, you want to go out, like, on a date?”

He nodded. “Yeah.. like a date.” He watched your head fall into your hands with a groan and he expected the worst for a second. “Oh god! I’m so dumb!” You looked up at him with a bashful grin. “I can’t believe I didn’t catch on! That must’ve been so annoying. I’m sorry!"

“No! Don’t be sorry! I think it worked out for the better anyway. At least I was able to look at you as I confessed this time around. I actually prefer this outcome.” He rubbed the back of his neck. You bit your lip to hide your smile.

He was such a sweetheart.

“So what do you say?”

You let out a small chuckle, your eyes softening at him. “The answer is still yes! I’d love to go out on a date with you.”

The nerves left his body so quickly that it left his head spinning. He let out a big sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure what to say. This was amazing, it was a dream come true! You- you actually said yes?! You want to go on a date with him!? How could this be real? He was so happy, and he was sure the smile on his face told you that much.

“R-really you mean it?! Are you sure?”

You nodded again, letting out a laugh. “I’m very sure! I wish you could’ve given me some signs though! I had no idea you liked me too!”

“....”

“M-..Midoriya… You ok?”

[neverthrive]

Just gonna leave this old ass fanfic here

Adventuring is a rewarding occupation, providing an abundance of wealth, the respect of peers, and even a fulfilling sense of self worth. Even so, the constant action takes its toll, and every once in a great while an adventurer has to take a step back, breathe in deeply, and just get away from it all. Which is exactly what Jake had been planning for himself and his human brother.

It was a simple idea; take a break from their regular schedule of evil slaying, butt-kickery and all around, nonstop awesomeness. Find some remote location that holds nothing but tranquility in store for the duo to just chillax at for a few days. Just the two of them, a dog and his boy. It was perfect, but like any other well laid plan, there was a monkey wrench destined to find its way into the cogs of said perfection and jam Jake's precise synchronization up something awful. This particular monkey wrench goes by the name of Marceline.

"What are you dweebs up to?" Inquired a melodically cynical voice that belonged to none other than the ancient noirette in question. Marceline stared down ever curiously at the mixed species siblings and their growing mess as she liesurely drifted on the air over their heads. From what she could tell, her mortal friends appeared to be gathering heaps of useless garbage and stowing the junk in their already cramped luggage, for some reason or another.

Finn took a moment to acknowledge the vampire's presence, looking up from his loaded pack to face her. "I'm not actually sure, myself... Jake just told me to start packing my crud, and I guess that's what I'm doing, so does that answer your question?"

"Not in the least." she replied curtly before turning her now suspicious gaze in Jake's direction. The dog paid Marceline no mind as he continued to toss his various and mostly useless possessions into a sack. A rubber duck, a length of rope, a jar of peanuts, a pair of socks... Finally, he stored two empty glass bottles and closed the sack, still oblivious to the vampire's questioning stare. "Jake, what the plum is with all the hullabaloo?"

"Nope." Jake snapped, mildly irritated.

"'Nope'? Nope what?" She pressed him, ignoring the dog's tone.

"No. I'm not gonna tell you because you'll just want to come with us and muck it up. It's s'pose to be just me and mah bro, and you have no part in it. So no, Marceline, you can't come camping with us." Jake retorted in his best attempt at sounding authoritative, but in trying to iterate just how serious he was, the fact that he was suppose to be withholding information had slipped his mind a tad. He soon realized his mistake and growled in frustration. "Forget I said that last part!" But ironically, that last part about ignoring that previous last part was ignored by both teens.

"We're going camping?" Finn and Marceline asked in unison, excitement bubbling up in their throats.

"Yes, Finn, WE are. And no, Marceline, WE are not. Got it?" Jake answered pointedly. "It's camping time with Finn and Jake. I didn't hear Marceline anywhere in there, so step off sister!"

"Well fine! Maybe I didn't want to go on your stupid trip anyway!" Marceline pouted sorely and turned to leave, but Finn, being the model peacekeeper he is, blocked his friend's exit. "Get out of the way, Finn. I'm obviously not wanted here anymore." The vampire queen tried to push the boy aside, but no matter how hard she shoved, the squishy blob of flesh and heroism persisted to keep her from leaving.

"Come on, Jake's just being a butt. You don't have to leave on account o' him bein' a Mr. grumpy pants." Finn gently wrapped a hand around Marceline's forearm and began to lead her back over to his brother so as amends could be made.

"He doesn't even wear pants, dude." she huffed out in retortion as she let herself be pulled back towards the junk heaps that the magical dog was still busying himself with sorting through and packing into napsacks and suitcases and the like.

"Jake..." Finn verbally nudged his brother to outstretch the olive branch to Marceline, but an apology seemed hesitant in forthcoming. "Come on, man. You know you done bad in yourself bro, and I know you know how to make it right again." Finn's prompt appeared to have worked this time, eliciting a defeated sigh from Jake.

Dropping his bags of assorted and worthless loot, Jake turned to face Marceline who now had her arms crossed over her chest and was avoiding eye contact with him. "Look, I'm sorry, alright?" Marceline untensed a bit at that. "It's not you, It's just that I really wanted to have some bro time with Finn, y'know? To recapture those times we used to share when we was wee pups." Jake inhaled deeply, breathing in the musty scent lingering about from the, until recently, long forgotten contents of that once overstuffed closet in the corner. He had a feeling in his gut that he'd regret this decision later, and his gut was almost never wrong, but he couldn't ignore his guilt and empathy for Marceline. She just wanted to hang with her friends. "So... You want to come with us, then?"

The vampire's sour mood dissipated immediately, her pout rapidly shifting to a grin stretched from pointed ear to pointed ear. "Heck yes I wanna go camping with you guys! So when are we leaving?" Marceline asked almost giddily.

"Well I guess since you're coming with us, we probably shouldn't be heading out 'til just before sundown." Jake answered thoughtfully. Having so much time before they were to depart allowed Jake some spare moments to cool it with all the preparations and freed up his thinkin' schedule a bit. Suddenly, a thought pervaded his mind that the dog rather took a shining to. "If we're bringing guests along now, Lady Rainicorn's coming too!" and with that, Jake took off to go inform his girlfriend of how he'd decided she would be spending the next few days. The matter was entirely non negotiable.

Finn and Marceline stood idly by as Jake hastily absconded out through a nearby window. The young hero turned to his immortal friend "You know, he actually does wear pants..."

"Really?"

"Yup."

A quarter hour before dusk would settle in, the four campers had reached the landing Jake scouted out beforehand. It was a small pocket within the forest, not too far from a river, vacant enough to comfortably fit everyone but with a dense enough canopy to shade any vampire from daylight at high noon. Having acquired a suitable base of operations, the only thing left standing in between Jake and his cherished relaxation was setting up camp. The duties were divied up between two groups.

"So Lady and I are gonna pitch our tent, by ours I mean hers and mine. I don't know what either of you are doing so... Sleep under the stars or whatever. But also, we need a campfire, so you guys should maybe gather some sticks and twigs and stuff, and it'll be math. 'Kay." Jake then spoke something in a language neither Finn nor Marceline could comprehend to Lady, who laughed in response, and the two magical creatures diligently began piecing together the frame of their shared tent. The rainicorn giggled lightly every time Jake slipped a tent pole into the corresponding connector she held.

Marceline narrowed her eyes at the spectacle and made a face. "Gross..." She thought it best to linger around the couple and their disgusting adorableness as little as inhumanly possible and began to head towards the surrounding thickets. Finn soon followed suit, tailing behind his friend into the thick of the forest to gather materials for their fire.

"So like, sticks, huh?" The human remarked as he bent over to scoop a discarded twig from the earth.

Marceline turned to see Finn's pitiful offering. Their fire would need a lot more fuel than some measly green branches. "No man, we need bigger stuff than that." she explained. "And preferably a little more dead." she added.

"Bigger?" Finn thought it over for a moment. "Alright, bigger." Turning to face a tree, the stout teenager grappled the trunk and with all his might attempted to pry the poor unsuspecting eudicot from the soil. "I need your wood, tree! Give it up, yo!" Finn continued his struggle while Marceline cackled at his random act of foolishness.

Seeing no sign of Finn relenting any time soon, his undead friend intervened. "Finn, we don't need a whole tree. And you most def don't gotta yank one out'a the ground. C'mere, ya goober." she beckoned while barely supressing her laughter. Finn looked from Marceline then back to the tree in his grasp, releasing the bark from his grip and gaining nothing from his efforts but sore arms.

"Look," she pointed to a fallen branch that looked as if it'd been laying on the forest floor for a few seasons now. "This is the kind of stuff we're gonna need. Big enough to burn, and not impossible to pick up, got it? Now get it." Finn did as instructed, bending to take the dry, rough chunk of high octane campfire fuel in his arms. "Alright, now just find a lot more like it and we're good to light 'em up."

"How many more?" Finn asked wearily.

"I don't know. Lots, I suppose. Have to keep it going for a while." she replied, venturing deeper into the woods to search for any more decent firewood she might per chance stumble upon. Figuratively, that is, it's hard to sumble when your feet don't touch the ground.

"Bleh..." Despite his contempt for such menial labor, Finn once again followed the vampire to gather what they needed. It was an easy enough job, but way too dang boring for a man of action. Finn needed excitement, and lugging sticks around wasn't providing.

When they'd finished gathering the firewood and the time came to actually light the fire, Finn demanded he be the one to do the deed. And so there they sat across from one another, a neatly arranged pile of dead wood between them. Finn furiously stroked the sticks together in a fruitless attempt to catalyze a spark.

"This usually works! These things must be broken, or something..." Finn pouted and heaved the useless wooden shafts into the nearby shrubbery in frustration.

"Here," Marceline moved herself closer to the bundle and spawned a small flame in the palms of her hands. Touching the flame to the tinder, the pile of miniature lumber and bark ignited almost instantly. Finn stared down at the blazing fire, then glanced up to Marcleline, a smug, toothy smirk plastered across her face.

"You cheated!" he yelped, pointing accusingly at the girl who succeeded so easilly where he so miserably failed.

"Finn, don't be jelly of my totally sweet vampire powers." Marceline replied, her expression never faltering.

"I'm not jelly! Maybe jam, but not jelly. Just admit you cheated! Vampire powers is cheating fo' sure." he insisted.

"Nope." The vampire playfully let her forked tongue slide out from between her fangs, mocking the disgruntled human.

"Whatever..."

"Hey, you guys made the fire! Rad!" Jake exclaimed as he padded his way over to the two from his now fully assembled tent.

"Yeah, we totally did it! 100% group effort here." Marceline chimed almost sarcastically. "So who wants to roast marshmallows?"

"... Then the puppy looked under his bed, and saw two glowing green eyes! The pup was so scared, it almost wee wee'd!" Finn stood over his three friends, the crackling fire below lighting his features in distorted illumination. He raised both hands above his head, digits stretched and curled as claws in the most menacing display the boy could muster. "The nebelung under the bed reached out to the scared little puppy and..." Finn paused, turning to Jake who'd heard the story right along with Finn in their youth and knew what came next. "TICKLED THE PUPPY!" Finn pounced on his brother and poked his wriggling fingers into the dog's soft flanks. Jake snorted and snickered at the human's tickle attack as the two women watched on. Lady found the sight to be quite amusing, adorable even. Marceline just sucked the red from a can of kidney beans in stark indifference.

"If you two are done with your brotherly gropefest yet, maybe I could tell a real ghost story?" Marceline cut their fun short and assumed her position over the campfire as current story teller as the brothers returned to their seats. "This isn't the first time I've been in these parts of the woods. I came through here some years back, how long ago exactly is a little fuzzy. But I wasn't alone. No, I had friends with me, just like I do now, and just like now, there was a dog among my group.

"We were just hiking through, you see, we had no intentions of staying. No, that would be foolish! We knew better, we'd heard the stories of what happens around here after dark. Weird stuff... Spooky happenings, y'know? But the dog, he got lost-"

"Oh no! Not the dog! The dog always dies first!" Jake interrupted with his sudden fearful outburst.

"Well anyway..." Marceline shot him a scornful look, and continued. "The dog must have started straggling, because when we stopped to rest, he was nowhere to be found. Of course we looked for him, we stayed together as a group, we weren't about to split up so we'd all be lost in 'The Forsaken Forest'. But no matter where we searched, there was no sign of the poor lost doggy. It wasn't 'til well after dark when we found him. He was huddled in a bush maybe twenty or so yards from where he was last seen, shaking uncontrollably with his face in his hands.

"He wouldn't show us his face. He just kept on mumbling some nonsense about 'whispering trees' and 'eyeball rockets'. When we finally pried the dog's hands from his face, he had no eyes! Just two gaping sockets where his looking globes used to be! Once we got him to calm down, he told us the whispering trees of the forsaken forest used some hoodoo to turn his eyeballs into jet packs and they flew right off of his face. Wait..." Marceline stiffened and tilted her head to one side as if intently listening to some faint noise off in the distance. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?" Jake squeaked, cowering into his girfriend's embrace. Cuddling with Lady Rainicorn made him feel secure, but it wasn't enough to make him totally forget he was in the alleged 'Foresaken Forest'.

"It sounds like..." she leaned in toward Jake, and with a completely straight face, with a hint of what might pass for something distraught in her tone, answered "Whispering."

That's all Jake needed to hear. He gave his friends a surprise performance of his scream song and tore off to his tent as fast as his four legs would carry him, separating himself from the 'evil' trees outside with a thin layer of nylon. No way in the flippin' Night-o-Sphere was he letting some piney mischief makers steal his precious eyes. Lady chuckled and followed after him, knowing Jake wouldn't be able to sleep alone tonight after that fright.

Finn and Marceline shared a laugh at Jake's expense. When their howling merriment subsided, they realized they were alone once more. Finn fed a few more branches from their dwindling supply into the blaze, stoking the flames.

"So, have you really been out in these woods before?" The boy asked, now feeling uneasy not knowing if the vampire's story was true or not. Finn'd witnessed stranger things, so believing tall tales came easily to him.

"Yeah, I have. But not how you're thinking I did, that story was bogus." Finn was relieved. "Naw, my old man took me camping somewhere around here when I was younger, before that whole 'fry incident' happened. It's one of the more pleasant memories I have from my upbringing." Marceline sighed and watched the flames consume their fresh meal through hazy, half lidded eyes. The age-old young woman contently recalled the time she and her father shared out in this forest so many years ago.

"Is that why you like camping?" Finn pulled her out of her train of thought. "Becuase your dad brought you?"

"Yeah, probably." she admitted. "It's just nice to chill out in the wild, with some friends or family or whatever. It's kind of peaceful. So how 'bout you, Finn? Have you ever been camping?"

"Well, once pop took me, Jake and Jermaine out for a weekend of fishing. Y'know, a father and his boys." Finn still missed his parents, they were such kind old folk. No one else would look twice at the human freak, but they raised him as their own. "But it was actually just the back yard, there was a pond there too, and we were told we couldn't go inside the house 'til the weekend was over. Dad made us some sort of little shelter out of some dead trees and ferns and all we ate was the fish we caught, but Dad made sure to stock the pond with lots of fish beforehand, so we had plenty. It was a pretty good time, even if it wasn't the wilderness like this."

"It's not where you're at, Finn, all that matters is who you're with." Marceline asserted, and felt a certain truth to her words resonate. In her experience, this was an immutable fact, in good company, fond memories could be made anywhere. Finn always seemed like good company, and he'd given the vampire an abundance of fresh memories she hoped would not fade any time soon.

"Yeah," Finn nodded gingerly. "that's deep." The human stretched his arms wide and yawned in deeply. It was getting late, and an adolecsent boy needs his sleep. "I'm gonna hit the sack."

Finn took a few paces away from the campfire and found one of the various packs he'd brought with him on this excursion at the base of a large tree. Opening the zipper, he reached inside and withdrew a very large, very new looking gortex sleeping bag and unrolled the bundle of fluff and warmth, laying it across the ground. The tuckered hero wasted no time before hopping into the over sized, silky feeling cocoon, but before he could drift of to the land of Sweet dreams, he was disturbed by a familiar voice.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" demanded the very abandoned feeling vampire queen.

"You're nocturnal." Finn retorted bluntly before rolling over to face away from the dying fire.

"But I've been up all day!" she protested. "My sleep schedule is wack, and it's pretty much entirely your fault."

"Hey, it's your own choice to pester us during the day. You made your bed, now you gotta sleep in it. Hehe." Finn laughed at the irony of that figure of speech used in this particular instance and noted that he's not exactly one to be clever with irony, and it was mostly just coincidence, but an awesome coincidence at that. "Can't you just like, sleep hangin' from a tree or somethin'? Bats do that all the time."

"No! For one, that's actually an insulting generalization, and two, I don't think I can maintain myself in bat form while I'm sleeping." Marceline explained. It sounded logical enough of a reason to rule out sleeping in trees, and there was no way she was about to sleep atop the cold dirt. "Scootch over, I'm getting in with you." she ordered.

"No way! Why didn't you bring your own sleeping junk?" Finn countered.

"Because I didn't think of it and vampires were never bestowed with the gift of foresight, now make room!"

"You can't!" Finn barked.

"Why can't I?" she challenged.

"Because... You're a girl..." Finn's face brightened with reddish hugh.

"Are you saying you'd rather sleep with a boy?" Marceline asked slyly, raising an eyebrow in playful inquiry.

"Well no... But..." Finn sputtered, "This isn't fair!"

"Life ain't fair, get used to it," the dead girl shot back while making her way to Finn and his comfy looking sleeping bag that he was being oh so greedy trying to keep all to himself. Finn hesitated, but after seeing Marceline was dead set on gettin' all up in his bag, he reluctantly relented his opposition and allowed her entry, slipping in beside him.

Marceline noticed how spacious it was inside, still comfortable enough even with the both of them fully encased up to their necks in the puffy fabric, and she almost couldn't help but to be suspicious that Finn's end game was to share this sleeping bag with someone all along. Silly human, he'd only have to ask, no need for reverse psychology and mind games. But then she realized this was Finn she was thinking about and how his intentions never run any deeper than face value. Marceline couldn't see Finn, the genuine goober he is, devise some elaborate plan entailing sleeping bags and psychological warfare all to result in getting her to sleep with him, speaking only in the most literal sense of the term.

Then Marceline realized something else. She was dreadfully uncomfortably laying in this position. "Finn. I need a pillow." she informed.

Disturbed once more from the verge of slumber, Finn exhaled audibly and cracked his sore and crusty eyes. Scanning about the surrounding darkness for something that might sate the relentless vampire's pestering, Finn peered a fairly large, stout stone not far from where they lay. Removing his arms from the confines of the sleeping bag he was now being forced to share, he grabbed hold of the rock and placed it by Marceline's head with a dull thud. "Use that." he instructed coarsely before returning to his previous position and trying once more to sleep.

Marceline stared at the rock in awe for a long moment before deciding it was a horrible candidate for a pillow. No, she'd need something softer, with some give. Something... Squishy. And per chance, it just so happened that there was something exceedingly squishy laying right beside her. So with no further thought or reasoning, Marceline curled herself around Finn and layed her head on the softest point she could find between his shoulder and chest.

"What the flip are you doing?" The hero questioned when feeling his friend's arms snake around his body.

"Shut up." she hissed, momentarily lifting her head from his chest to make eye contact. "You're lumpin' comfortable, so deal with it. Now lay there and be quiet like a good pillow." And with that, she nuzzled back into the fleshy swells of Finn's torso.

As awkward as this situation was, Finn couldn't deny that it was maybe even a little pleasant. But also mostly uncomfortable, for him at least. So to right this, Finn hauled his arm out from beneath the cuddly vampire and repositioned it around Marceline, so now they were in some ungraceful, and clearly completely platonic embrace. Nope, nothing going on here, just a couple o' bros in a sleeping bag is all. Snuggling? Naw, none of that going on here, bro.

Feeling Finn's arm wrap around her back and rest somewhere near her waist, reciprocating her cuddle, Marceline grinned into the adolescent adventurer's chest. "I know you're enjoying this, probably more than you're letting yourself believe, but don't expect it to happen often." She took a moment to glance back up to meet Finn's embarrassed gaze. "You just so happened to have been the most comfortable place for me to spend the night." Reaching up to play with the ears of Finn's hat, she added "Y'know, you're no Hambo, but you're quite the snuggly little bear."

Finn's face flushed skarlet, or maybe it never stopped being that color, he couldn't tell. But either way, he definitely felt significantly warmer around the collar after that remark. He wasn't too sure he liked being Marceline's 'snuggly bear', he imagined it might be something reminiscent of what Lady Rainicorn would call Jake, if she spoke english. And Finn for sure didn't think he was ready to have with Marceline what Jake had with Lady. But here they were, closer to any other girl than he'd ever been, unburnt by her touch and unscalded by any callous words that carelessly fell from her mouth.

Finn gave some thought to this and realized it wouldn't be so bad to be more than simply friends with Marceline. She was probably the greatest gal he knew, and almost certainly the least complicated, even if that's not saying all too much. But he could easily envision their relationship taking a turn for the romantic. By the time he'd worked up the courage to profess that thought to her, a rather obnoxious snore seized his attention. Finn snapped his eyes down in his bed buddy's direction to find she'd already fallen fast asleep. So, the adventurer, pushing all silly thoughts of relationships aside, closed his eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time that evening and was finally allowed rest.

It wasn't the muted sunlight shining through the leaves overhead, ticking at his eyelids, that woke Finn that morning, nor was it the stirring of the girl still in his arms. It was the earpiercing shriek of utter shock and surprise let loose from his older brother's agape maw. Finn's eyes shot open, sitting up quickly and turning his attention from Jake to Marceline, taking in the situation and how it might look to anyone outside of the sleeping bag.

"This probably isn't what it looks like!" Finn piped up defensively almost without thinking. His brain kicked in and told him that whenever someone says those particular words, it's almost always exactly what it looks like.

"Oh my grawd, dude! You guys didn't... Did you?" Jake gasped, flabbergasted. "Just tell me you kept it PG13, please."

"Dude, what the hey! We're both fully clothed, okay!" Finn stepped out of his sleeping bag to prove he was, in fact, not in the nude. "She just forgot to bring any camping gear, so I shared. Alright?"

"Yeah, alright... I guess I might have been overreacting a bit..." Jake mumbled ashamedly, averting his gaze from his two friends he just so blatently accused of indecency.

"A bit?" Finn chuckled. "It's a'ight man, let's just forget about it." Finn's stomach let out a low growl. "So what's for breakfast, homie?"

Jake felt a mite cheerier now that they'd moved on past that terrible misunderstanding. What an awful, horrible revelation to wake up to first thing in the morning. "Canned food, yo. It's all we got since we pollished off the marshmallows last night."

"Sounds good, man." Finn responded with a nod. He looked back to his vampire friend who was still wrapped in his sleeping bag. She was in a sitting position, watching the two brothers, holding the poofy top of the bag up to under her chin with strangely bare arms. "C'mon Marcie, stop being a lazy butt. It's time to get up." The human coaxed.

"Remember that thing you said about how we're both fully clothed?" she asked with a bashful smile. "If we've learned anything this morning, it's that you guys are great at jumping to conclusions." She motioned with her eyes, directing Finn and Jake's attention toward a pile of her discarded flannel shirt and ripped jeans.

"What the flip, Marceline!" Finn cried out, bordering on the hysterical.

"What, I got hot! Besides, it's not like I'm completely naked. Glob Finn, don't be such a perv!" Marceline huffed indignantly, floated up from the ground sleeping bag and all, snatched the shirt and pair of jeans from where they lay and was gone into the dense forest, presumably to get dressed.

"What in the flip just happened, Jake?" Finn asked flatly as he continued to stare dumbfoundedly out into the woods where he last saw the lunatic who wore his sleeping bag like a toga.

"Sounds like you're having girl troubles, bro." Jake answered, gingerly giving the confused human an empathetic pat on the back.

[a-la-la-llama]

Aged Up Daminette Pt:2

This is a continuation of This post! I suggest you read it first before this one.   This was amazing! Damian was actually having a pleasant conversation with a girl who saw him and only him. He didn’t have to worry about the ending of his legal name or the image that came with it, nor the weaseling of his pesky brother! For a good hour and a half, that was when an intoxicated Jason Todd thought it was a good idea to approach his favorite person. “Pixie-pop! I didn’t see you till now! Is he causing you any trouble?” Marinette giggled as Jason wrapped an arm over her shoulder and looked at his brother with a smirk. “No Jay, Larry actually sent him over!”, flicking to the pink straw in her drink indicating the bartender thought Damian was safe. It was the little safety indicators like these created by Larry and Alice that kept her coming back. “What was he thinking! Sending Demon Spawn over here, he could have killed you!” Jason was livid, there was no way he would ever trust his youngest brother to be around her. Marinette crossed her arms and leaned against Jason, facing Damian, “So you're the ‘Demon Spawn’ Jason's always complaining about?” Damian wanted to kill Todd that very second, he had a legitimate chance with this girl but it was all thrown down the drain by his loudmouth brothers.

  “What did you say, Todd?”, he seethed hissing out the words while glaring at said brother. Damian was greeted by a cheeky smile, “You know, even if I could remember I wouldn’t tell you. I’m usually black-out drunk when I start spewing things about my life.” Marinette giggled and pushed herself out of Jason’s embrace, “And that’s also when he likes to start fights!” Damian scowled, that wasn't fair, he wanted a hug too! “I always have valid reasons though, I’m not some brute!”, Jason defended himself. “What about when you broke a barstool on someone when they interrupted you and Larry trying to order a drink?” Jason retorted, “Okay, but-“ Marinette added more, “Or when you stole someone else’s shot and proceeded to throw them out the window?” Jason huffed, “But that-“ Marinette just continued, “Or when you stabbed that-“ Throwing his hands up, “Okay, Pixie-pop! I get it, you made your point!” She smirked now satisfied with the points she made. “Since Damian has someone to talk to now, I’m going to the bathroom!” She closed her sketchbook before sliding off the stool.

  Damian turned to his brother once she was out of sight, “Now tell me what you told her, Todd!”, he all but demanded. “I’m not lying when I say I don’t remember. Now tell me what you're doing around her, of all people!” Jason asked, dropping his smile for a narrowed glare. “That’s none of your business.”, retorted Damian. “Oh, like hell! Pixie-pop is a literal angel and I will not let her be corrupted by the son of satan on my watch!” Tt, as if Damian would do anything to harm her, he did like the name angel, however. “Where are Grayson and Drake?” Jason stole Damian’s drink and chugged what was left in it before answering. “Grayson passed out and was picked up by his wifey and Tim is over there chatting up Larry about mixed drinks.” The two turned to stare at Tim who was desperately trying to understand the concept of a Galaxy Cocktail. “Fess up, what are you doing with Mari! I care about her more than you, so if-“ Damian did not stay sitting around to listen to the rest of Jason’s lecture, who had not turned around yet from looking at Tim so it was an easy escape. At the moment, Damian was on a search for a good spot to wait for the wonder of the girl.

  Idly waiting on the edge of the dance floor, Damien leaned against a structure pole little ways outside of the bathroom. It was the perfect spot to wait, hidden by the crowd on the dance floor to hide from Jason but where he could easily catch Marinette without it being weird. That is until a woman along with a man walked up to him. Both seemed a few years older than him, most likely in their late twenties. “So you're the dude hanging around Mar-bear.” The woman was the first to speak with him, well more like interrogated. She had her arms crossed over her chest and was set in a staredown with him. He kept her gaze while answering, “Yes, and who might you be?” She gave a small huff, “I’m her honorary big sister! Let me tell you, everyone who knows her in this bar is not above throwing down and kicking ass for her!” Damian grew up with Bruce and Batman as a father; this self-proclaimed ‘big sister’ would not deter him from Marinette. “No need for that Alina, he has been nothing but nice!”, Marinette joined the conversation before Damian could even say anything snarky. “You never know Mar-bear! He could be just like that ‘nice guy’ Matt from last week. I’m just doing my duty as a big sister to protect you!”

  The man placed an arm on the pouting woman, Alina, and smiled. “Sorry Marinette, you know how she gets. I couldn’t hold her back this time.” Marinette waved her hands in dismissal, “You don’t have to apologize Aven, plus this is Jason’s brother so he has it covered!” Alina raised an eyebrow to the new information, “Which one?” Marinette threw a thumb towards Damian, “This is Damian!” The couple, Alina and Aven, sighed. “Mar-bear, he has like three! Are you the smart one, annoying one, or the evil one?” Alina asked, turning her attention towards him. “ Hm. Drake is definitely the smart one. I could be considered an annoying or evil one. I’ve learned he refers to me as Demon Spawn, here.”, he all but grumbled out. Aven was the one to comment, “ No way! You’re like my favorite to get him to talk about. Dude, you do the craziest shit sometimes. Like when you stabbed Jason in the leg when you were like twelve after he ate your dessert. I could not stop laughing when he showed me the scare!” Out of all the stuff Todd could have said about him, he picked how violent he was. How was Marinette not running for the hills yet? “You got your work cut out for you then, Mar-bear here is a little fire-cracker, if you know what I mean!” Alina nudged Marinette in the side. “What?”

  Marinette giggled at how stunned Damian looked, “Who do you think is Jason’s back up in fights, Dami?” As if summoned by his name, Jason popped up out of nowhere. “There you are Demon Spawn, we gotta go! Say bye to Pixie-pop cause it’s the last time you’ll see her on my watch!” Tim was there too, but was occupied with the hell-ish concoction he convinced Larry to make him. “No need, Jay-bird! Big sister Alina has this covered!” Said sister nudged Jason out of the group. “Hey! I met her first, plus, I fought that Matt guy last week when he wouldn’t stop hitting on her! I got honorary brother rights too!”, pushing Alina back. “ One, Marinette actually knocked him out, you just threw him outside. Two, I’m a girl and she’s a girl so it should be me! And three, this is your brother, that makes you biased!” Having a feeling this was going to go on for a while, Damian took the opportunity to grab Marinette’s hand and lead her further into the crowd on the dance floor.

  “You know, you have to ask a girl to dance before you just take her away?” Marinette teased him along with a smile. “My bad, Angel. That was not my intention.” Surrounded by people, he stood in front of her and looked down. Damian realized why Jason’s nickname fit her, he had at least a good eight inches in height above her. He lifted her hand that he held up and intertwined their fingers, his hand was huge compared to her small, soft, and slim ones, and brought them back to their sides. “You brought a girl onto a dance floor but expected not to dance?”, she said between giggles. Now embarrassed Damian looked away and tried to excuse himself, “Ask my family, I don’t dance and I’ve got two left feet. It really isn’t my style either.” The giggles stopped and he could feel her body tense up through her hand. He turned his head back to look down at her again. “It’s Alright! I’m just teasing you, Dami.” Her smile didn't go to her eyes, was she disappointed? That caused a jab in his heart, she really had him in the palm of her hand. Screw it! Damian didn’t care, he’d do anything for her no matter where to keep that smile. He brought their joined hands back up and spun her before setting his free hand on her waist and bringing her closer.

  Damian took back what he said, “I’d loved to dance, Angel. As long as it’s with you.” Taking a peek back down, Damian enjoyed the view he had of her blushing face. Best idea ever. He took note of how he could feel her lean into his chest and the way her voice vibrated against him, “Thanks, Dami.” If Damian had the guts, he would tease her and tell her how she was waltzing away with his heart with how adorable she is. Maybe, he should save that for the future? For now, he enjoyed their first dance together and hoped for his sake, the first of many. God, he sounded like Grayson! Marinette finally helped him understand Grayson’s words

  “Wait till you have a girlfriend, Baby Bird! When you’re older you won’t be teasing me then, I’ll be teasing you!” Which he always responded with, “Yeah right! I’d never give into disgusting emotions like you. It’s a waste of my time.” Though, that might have been from living with the league. He was that kind of kid who despised romance. Oh, how wrong younger him had been. Good thing his Angel never had to meet the teenage version of himself. Hear stories, maybe? But meeting the hell-bent kid version of him would have been a nightmare. Damian knew if they had known each other then he certainly would have driven her away. Love never came his way until this day. He never imagined he would want to settle down with someone, let alone someone he just met. But everything felt easy with Marinette. It was familiar, felt normal, almost natural. As if they were destined to be with one another. She might not be feeling what he was, but Damian was determined to make this last. This was the farthest he had ever gone with someone and it had only been a few hours. Dancing as if there was no one else around him and Marinette, Damian decided he wanted this as his future.

Bonus!

Jason: “Tim! Are you recording this? I’ve never seen Demon Spawn dance!”

Tim: “There he is, spinning this girl round and round in circles. Hell must be freezing over!”

Jason: “ Dick is going to have a field day tomorrow!”

Alina: “Truce. We are totally working together to spy on their first date.”

Aven: “ Isn’t this technically a date?”

Alina: “Shut up, babe. That’s just the minor details!”

Jason: “Shut the fuck up both of you! I’m trying to get good blackmail here!”

People who said they wanted more in the last post!

@mystery-5-5 

Well this was a 3:14 am!                                      Next

[belacoded]

Prompt Fill for @alienapparatus

This is a five-hour-long plane ride, we’re sitting together and you’re deathly afraid of flying, with Destiel.

~*~

Castiel was fully prepared to spend his slightly-over-five-hours in the air taking a well-deserved nap, but as soon as the plane started rolling away from the gate he realized that that wasn't going to be happening.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked as he tilted his head and squinted at the guy sitting next to him who looked like he was attempting to crush the armrests in his fists.

“Absolutely fan-fucking-tastic,” the guy replied, his voice too strained for Castiel to believe him.

Cas was willing to take the sarcasm, however, and leave the guy to his own devices as he caught up on his sleep. He would've, too, if it wasn't for the fact that, as the plane started it's ascent, the guy gripped his seat even tighter and then started hyperventilating, and Castiel felt bad.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Cas said, trying to be calming, although 'calming' wasn't exactly an easy thing for Cas to be. “Shh, you're fine. We're fine. Everything's fine. The plane is just taking off, it'll be better in a few minutes once we're up in the air.”

Castiel's words didn't seem to have any affect on the guy, however, so he decided to try a different tactic.

“So, we're going to be sitting next to each other for the next five-and-a-half hours… what's your name?”

The guy didn’t answer at first, as he was too busy muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like Metallica. “Dean,” the guy—Dean, apparently—said before going back to his humming.

“I’m Castiel,” he replied.

Dean closed his eyes and pushed his head back into the headrest of his seat. “Hi,” he managed to get out, but it came out a bit squeaky and choked.

“What brings you to go to Iceland, if I may ask?” Castiel asked. He really wanted to try and make this flight at least somewhat better for Dean, although he wasn’t quite sure why.

Dean let out a low, shaky breath before turning his head slightly towards Castiel and answering. “Baby brother’s wedding. They’re doing that ‘destination wedding’ bullshit.”

“Ah,” Cas said with a nod of his head. “so, Dean, wh—”

Cas was cut off when the plane hit a sudden patch of turbulence and Dean's death-grip on the armrest moved to Castiel's knee. Cas stared at Dean's hand for a few minutes—long enough for the plane to make it out of the turbulence and get to the correct altitude for it to level out—but Dean didn’t make any move to move his hand.

“Um,” Cas said, a bit awkwardly, still staring at Dean's hand on his knee. “Dean?”

“What?” Dean asked shakily.

“Your, um, your hand,” said Cas.

“What about it?” Dean asked.

Cas pursed his lips. “It's on my knee.”

“Sorry,” came Dean's reply, but his grip on Castiel's knee didn't budge.

Cas sighed. “It's going to be okay, I promise. We'll land in Iceland perfectly safe. Trust me, I fly all of the time, we'll be fine.”

Dean snorted and almost seemed to relax, but then they hit another patch of turbulence and his grip tightened again, almost painful on Castiel's knee.

“Easy for you to say.” Before Cas could ask what he meant Dean looked at him and continued. “My family has bad luck. Especially me. I've nearly died like six-hundred times. This is not going to be okay.”

Rather than arguing with Dean, Cas decided to try and comfort him by placing his hand over Dean's, although Dean didn't react, seemingly too tense.

“Tell me about your brother,” Cas tried, hoping, once again, to distract Dean enough that he would feel more comfortable.

“Um, his name’s Sammy. Sam. I call him Sammy; pisses him off to no end. He’s a good kid, good grades, all that. Got into Stanford Law. Really smart,” Dean started, and as he kept on talking, Cas noticed how he started to relax more. The grimace on his face became a weak sort of smile, and the hand that gripped Castiel’s knee was now just sitting there sandwiched between Cas’ knee and hand. “He and his fiancée, Jess, they met in college. She’s amazing too, perfect girl for Sammy. I’m glad they found each other.”

“You seem really proud of Sam.”

“Yeah, I am, yeah,” Dean said. “But it’s—he’s my baby brother. I gotta look out for him, y’know? But now he has Jess for that and I’m really happy for them, I am, but I’m also kind of, like, he doesn’t need me anymore. And I know that’s not really true, because he’s my brother and we’ll still be close, but it’s just. Kinda lonely, you get me?”

Cas nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I get you. You just want to feel like he needs you, since you’ve spent all these years taking care of him, but now he’s getting married and even though you’re happy it’s hard for you to let him go.”

“Man, how did you just explain my feelings better than me?”

Cas shrugged, a little smile on his face as he looked at Dean.

The moment was ruined when another patch of turbulence caused Dean to let out a little shriek, squeeze his eyes shut, and hold onto Castiel’s hand.

A flight attendant came by to reassure Dean that it was only a bit of turbulence and everything would be okay, and would he like anything?

“Just a water, please,” Dean said through gritted teeth, his hand still tight around Castiel's.

“And you, sir?” the flight attendant asked Castiel.

“How about a Bloody Mary and a bottle of water?” Cas replied.

The flight attendant took one glance at Dean's death-grip on Castiel's hand before smiling and saying “Sure thing, coming right up.”

The rest of the flight went much the same, with Castiel slowly coaxing Dean into a somewhat relaxed state before something would happen to cause Dean to relapse and have a small panic-attack. When the plane finally touched down at the airport in Iceland, Dean was still holding onto Castiel's hand, although Cas didn't exactly mind all that much.

“I'm sorry you got stuck sitting next to me,” Dean said once the plane had been safely parked for everyone to disembark. “I can't imagine that you really wanted to spend five hours talking some random dude down from a panic-attack every five minutes.”

“To be fair, it wasn't every five minutes. Give yourself a little credit. It was maybe every half-hour or so. Besides, I actually had more fun talking to you than I probably would have if I did what I initially planned on doing,” Cas replied.

“What were you planning on doing, if you don't mind my asking?” Dean asked as he handed Cas his luggage from the overhead storage.

“Thanks,” Cas said. “And I was just planning on sleeping.”

“What? Oh, now I'm really sorry. I bet you have some important meeting or something to get to, don't you? You seem like the business type.. I'm so sorry you had to put up with me.”

Cas shook his head. “It's fine. I got here a day early, anyways, my meeting isn't until tomorrow. I've got plenty of time to sleep.”

“Okay, well, thank you, then. For, y'know, calming me down and everything. Letting me talk and… stuff.”

“Yeah, of course!”

“Well, thanks, again,” Dean said as he gave Cas a little wave and a smile.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replied with a wave and a smile of his own. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.”

~*~

A week later when Castiel boarded the plane for his flight back to New York, he grinned when he found his seat and saw Dean, already gripping the armrests of the seat on the aisle.

“Well, hello, again,” Cas said.

“Hey, there.” Dean smiled and stood up from his seat. “You get the window seat again.”

“Of course,” said Cas.

Dean took Castiel's hand without any hesitation once they sat down again.

“I hope you don't mind. I found the contact really helped last time.”

“Not at all, Dean. Not at all.” Cas squeezed Dean's hand for a second. “So, how was the wedding?”

“Oh, man, it was great! Sam was so happy and Jess was stunning in her dress, and…”

The second plane ride was much more relaxed, not only because the turbulence happened much less frequently, but also because Cas was the perfect distraction for Dean, and Cas was glad he was able to help someone out.

Especially when, once they landed, Dean asked that they exchange numbers so they could set up a time and place to have dinner together.

“You really helped me out, man. It's the least I can do,” was Dean's explanation.

“Dinner sounds lovely, Dean,” Cas had replied, and he was glad he hadn't spent that plane ride sleeping as he had planned.

~*~

If you enjoyed, please leave a like and reblog, and consider sending me a prompt (either one of your own or one from this list) I take prompts for all ships from a number of fandoms, but if you're ever unsure if I'll write for a certain fandom, feel free to ask! If you want to be tagged for any future fics I post, just send me a message saying which fandoms you want to be tagged for!! I really hope you enjoyed!

[yourcoffindoor]

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 1

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Prompt: Request from Anon- “ could you write one where the reader is a rock singer and they and mcr are on warped tour together, and they both lowkey like each other but think they’re both out of each other’s league, and find out that they’re both secretly into nerdy stuff + maybe getting together? thank you so much xxx”

AN: This is a multi-part series--I couldn’t help myself! Also, I based this fic around something Gerard said in a Rolling Stone interview:

Hope its ok Anon! enjoy!

You had dreamed of this moment since you first picked up a guitar. Back then it felt like an impossible fantasy, being on stage with your band, playing in front of a crowd of screaming fans; which is why it felt so surreal when your manager Tim told you that your band, The Violent Delights, had booked Warped Tour.

"June 18th," he told you with a satisfied grin, "you're in for the long haul, kids."

Your band-mates let out a collective shriek of joy, while you planted a grateful kiss on Tim's cheek.

"You're an OK manager, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, dramatically wiping his cheek where your lips had been. "Now you guys better get practicing. This is a good opportunity to really get your name out there. Plus you got some real popular acts to compete with."

Your interest was peaked. "Oh yeah? Like who?"

"Off the top of my head? Fall Out Boy, Dropkick Murphys, and I think a band called My Chemical Romance."

"Oh shit, My Chem?" your bassist, Gavin, piped up excitedly. "That's the band I'm always trying to get Y/N to listen to."

"I'll have to finally borrow their last album," you replied, "gotta scope out the competition after all." Gavin rolled his eyes while you laughed.

Your manager got serious. "It's three months on the road, and its gonna take a lot of energy and hard work. Quite frankly, it ain't glamorous."

"Tim, when have we ever been glamorous? I wouldn't care if it were a 12 month tour," you declared, "I wouldn't miss this opportunity for the world." Liz, your drummer, nodded in agreement beside you.

"You might be singing a different tune when you haven't had a shower in three days."

"As long as I'm singing it in front of an audience, we'll be fine."

* * *

Back at your apartment you marked June 18th on your calendar with a star, feeling invigorated with excitement all over again. This was it, you thought, the next level for our band. You were determined to give it your very best, outperforming every other band there.

After all, you had worked so hard to get to this point. Starting in friend's basements and tiny cafes, the band had slowly built up a sizable following of loyal fans. You were no longer the opening act, drawing sell out crowds more often than not. You made a promise to yourself that the band wasn't going to lose this momentum. There would be no distractions for you on this tour, just hard work and the thrill of performing. That meant no parties, and absolutely no boys. You weren't ready for another relationship, you told yourself, especially since the last one ended in disaster.

Yes, this was the moment the band had been waiting for. You let the warm excitement that this knowledge brought envelope you, and you lay your head down on your pillow, falling asleep to fantasies of what lay ahead.

* * *

Its a long road from Maryland to Ohio. Columbus was the first stop of the tour, which meant your band had 6 and a half hours to go over the set-list, make adjustments  discuss their hopes and fears for the three month experience. Gavin gave you a few CDs to listen too, including My Chemical Romance's Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge.  You had heard their first album ages ago and enjoyed it, but there was something incandescent to the music you were hearing now. It stirred a whirlwind of heavy emotion, and you were enthralled from beginning to end. You made a mental note to see them perform at Warped as soon as possible.

When your bus arrived at its destination, you felt the unwelcome buzz of nerves building in your stomach. This was real, you thought, this was happening. You were used to performing at this point, but it was the amount of people you'd be performing for that was nerve-wracking. Not to mention the fellow artists who may be watching and judging your sound. You breathed deep and tried to push past the nervous thoughts that hummed incessantly around your head like insects.

Your band-mates were buzzing about with excitement, but you needed to distract yourself. Fresh air always helped settle you, so you grabbed your shoes and decided to go for a walk around the venue.

It looked almost like a circus with all the trailers and tents that had quickly populated the surrounding area. Merch stands and catering tents were being organizes as dozens upon dozens of vans and trailers pulled in. There were already a few fans camped outside of the chain-link fence that surrounded the area, eagerly awaiting a glimpse of their favorite artists.

You kept wandering, and you saw that a band was being interviewed in the media tent. There were five of them, each holding a microphone; but one member, a dark haired boy, was doing most of the talking. He was cute, you thought, and your stomach did little flips watching him respond to the questions that were being asked.

You watched a little bit longer from a distance, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see Gavin and Liz, who had been doing a bit of exploring as well.

"Hey, there you are! I was talking to a few people by the catering tent. They said some bands are having a party on their buses later tonight, we should check it out." Gavin informed you excitedly.

You hesitated. No parties. "I dunno, I want us to be in good condition to perform tomorrow."

Liz chimed in. "All work and no play, Y/N. C'mon, it'll be a great chance to make some connections with other bands."

"If you don't come with us," Gavin pronounced dramatically, "we'll be far too devastated to perform tomorrow." His hand went to his forehead, as though he was about to faint.

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Pretty please?" Liz stuck her lower lip out pathetically.

"With sugar on top?" Gavin added.

You glanced at the black haired boy in the distance. Maybe he'd be there, a small voice in your head piped up.

"Ugh Fine! But I'll only stay for a little bit."

Satisfied, the pair stopped harassing you, and left you to continue wandering, promising to meet up with them later.

* * *

People spilled out from open trailers as music blared from an unknown source in the background. Some were already far gone, stumbling from place to place, or lying on the ground blacked out.

You followed Gavin inside one of the trailers. You watched as he interacted with the strangers inside with ease, a trait you envied. He managed to find you both drinks, and you grabbed the mystery beverage, sculling it in hopes that it would numb your nervousness. You may have been a great performer onstage, but offstage it was easy for your social anxiety to take the wheel.

Gavin began to walk away, ignoring your whispered pleas not to leave you. Fuck. It always felt awkward to not know anyone at a party. You clutched your red cup like a life jacket keeping you afloat in a sea of drunken strangers.

A man approached you out of nowhere, the smell of alcohol emanating from every pore on his body.

"You look lonely." He leered at you expectantly.

"Then it seems like you need glasses. I'm just fine on my own."

He laughed. "Ooo! I like you. You've got spunk. Name's Brent, guitarist from Midnite Heist."

"Can't say I've heard of you guys."

Brent was either oblivious to your indifference, or just chose to ignore it. "So how'd you end up at this party?"

"I'm in a band on the tour too. Lead singer actually."

"No way! That's awesome, we need more talented eye candy on this tour."

You screamed internally while he droned on, tuning him out as you continued to sip from your fast emptying cup.

You scanned the room, watching people laugh and dance. Your stomach suddenly flipped again as you noticed the black haired boy from this afternoon, solemn faced and quiet, silently nursing a diet coke in his hands. He was clearly not having a good time. The guitarist who had been talking you up soon saw you looking at the sullen figure and turned his attention towards him, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Gerard fucking Way!" he bellowed, carelessly sloshing his drink as he waved him over, causing a stream of alcohol to fall to the floor below.

Gerard seemed to hesitate before walking over. "It's been awhile man," he said softly. His eyes, a warm hazel, flicked to you repeatedly as he spoke. "you here for the whole tour this time?"

Brent laughed, his sobriety dangling by a thread.  "Yeah, but still not up on the main stage, unlike you big-shots." he said, punching Gerard in the arm. Gerard offered a crooked smirk in return, his patience already wearing thin. Brent nudged you in the arm. "This is Y/N, her band is new to Warped. I told her I'd show her the ropes." He grinned at you. Ugh.

Gerard seemed to sense your discomfort. "Welcome, nice to see a new face around."

Brent interrupted before you could respond. "How come you're wasting time with a coke? I would've expected you to be the first one wasted here."

Gerard's jaw clenched, and you cringed internally at the sheer awkwardness of the encounter. "I'm sober now," he informed Brent, "I don't touch that shit anymore."

Brent laughed dismissively. "Dude, you?  Do you even remember the last Warped tour? I'll give it 2 days before you're lying face down in the bushes again." he laughed as if he had just said something hilarious.

You were livid, and Gerard was on edge. You decided to step in when you noticed his knuckles turn white from clenching his coke can.

You moved slightly, ready to get between them. "Hey you know what? I'd really love a coke right now too. Mind showing me where they are?" you looked pleadingly at Gerard. He took the hint.

"Follow me."

You gave a curt wave to Brent, who looked on in confusion before continuing his drinking binge.

You stepped outside, and the sounds from the party behind you became a faint, thumping buzz in the background. You were both silent for a moment before you decided to break the ice.

"So that guy was a dick."

Gerard's scowl turned into a thin, lopsided smirk. Your heart melted a bit. "Yeah. I just realized some of these people are only tolerable when I'm drunk."

Stop. Move away. You don't need a distraction like this. You tried to scold yourself but words kept escaping from your lips, prolonging the encounter.

"This is my first time doing Warped Tour, but I'm assuming these parties are pretty much never-ending?"

Gerard pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Oh yeah, its every night for some of these bands. You're in for an interesting experience." You looked at him for a moment, perhaps for a bit too long. You had never seen anyone look so beautiful while surrounded by clouds of smoke.

"Yoohoooo! Y/N!" you heard the hollering of a clearly tipsy Gavin call from the doorway of the next trailer. "Where'd you go? The night is young! Get back here!"

You sighed. "That's my cue. Well actually that's my bassist, but he'll never let me live it down if I don't go back in there."

Gerard turned his head to the side and exhaled. "Catch you around. Next time you need rescuing from a douche-bag just light the bat signal."

You gave him a soft smile, forcing yourself to turn away and walk back to the trailer. As you did, you whispered aloud to yourself as a reminder:

"No distractions. No boys."

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Eight: Here's To Hoping

(Image not mine)

Rated: PG

~You see I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me He told me everything that's good and bad about my history

He told me that you are, you are the future

And the future looks good The future looks good to me~

"Jack," Sam sighed, checking his watch, "You gotta face the possibility that Marty may not be coming."

Jack was pacing back and forth across the motel's parking lot, trying his best not to slip on the crystallized asphalt. Dean had called the frozen tarmac 'Black Ice' and Jack felt that the term was quite accurate, it did feel like he was trying to walk on ice. But Jack just couldn't stand still. It was seven thirty-five A.M. and Marty still had not showed.

"No, she's coming. I'm sure of it!" Jack said with conviction, wringing his hands before shoving them into the pockets of his jacket. The small amount of force he applied was enough to throw him off balance. Jack's feet slipped out from beneath him and his head smacked against the frozen tarmac.

Sam flinched in sympathy but didn't move from the spot where he leaned against the Impala. He made no move to help Jack up as this was the sixth time he had bashed his head on the black ice in the last fifteen minutes. That fall and the five others before it would have been enough to kill or at least critically injure your typical human being.

So naturally, or rather unnaturally, Jack sat up and rubbed the back of his head. The blood soaked his hand as the wound quickly mended itself. Soon all that was left of the injury was a puddle of blood, nearly identical to five others on the ground that quickly began to freeze. Jack scooted on his knees to the edge of the parking lot and used the snow gathered there to wash the crimson substance off his hand. He stood carefully before beginning yet another round of pacing that would most likely end the same way it had the last six times.

Jack wished he could be sitting in the Impala with Dean and Cas but he found that waiting for Marty was more important to him, so he kept pacing. He wouldn't have to wait much longer. Dean had said that they would wait until eight o'clock before going to look for her. That arrangement had taken quite a while to agree upon. When Marty had failed to show up at six o'clock, Jack had immediately feared the worst.

"What if-what if she's hurt, or something? What if she got kidnapped?" He had worried.

"Jack, I'm sure everything is fine. People have different versions of what 'bright and early' means," Dean had reassured him, taking a long sip of coffee. He did not want to be up, but one thousand miles was a long way to go, so it was best they got up early. Besides, the earlier they checked out, the less they would have to pay, the motel charged by the hour and the rates weren't cheap.

"I know, but you saw what happened last night! What if those guys came after her again?" Jack had leaned back against the Impala's seats. The only reason he had gotten into the car in the first place was for the air conditioning. He was deeply worried that Dean might just decide to take off without Marty.

"Jack raises a valid point, Dean. The odds that those men from the bar should come after Martina, are considerable," Cas noted.

"Fine, if the shrimp doesn't show by eight, we go looking for her, and if we can't find her by ten, then I don't care; we're leaving without her," Dean decided. That was when Jack climbed out of the vehicle and began his trek back and forth across the parking lot. Sam had just followed him.

"I dunno, Jack. She seemed sorta skittish, don't ya’ think?" Sam now spoke.

"What are you saying?" Jack asked, turning to Sam.

"I'm saying that maybe you freaked her out. Maybe she got scared and ran off. Maybe- I don't know- maybe she's hiding, or something." Jack's eyes narrowed.

"You think she's scared of me?" He asked, though it sounded like more of a statement than a question. "What did I do wrong?"

"No, no. Jack, you didn't do anything wrong. I think, maybe she's just scared of coming with us- of what that might mean for her. I don't think she's scared of you, Jack. Marty doesn't seem like the sort of person that scares easy," Sam reassured. A smile tugged at the corner of Jack's mouth.

"You're right. She doesn't."

"If she doesn't show, we'll go looking, but you have to be ready in case she's changed her mind."

"She-she wouldn't do that, she promised!" Jack insisted.

"Sometimes people break their promises," Sam warned.

"She's coming. I know she is."

"Okay, Jack." Sam ducked back into the car, leaving the young Nephilim to wait in the cold. Jack turned on his heel to resume pacing.

He forgot he was standing on the ice.

Down Jack went. Yet again. Bashing his head on the asphalt. Yet again.

This time, Jack decided to just stay down for a bit and closed his eyes. He could hear Dean's obnoxious laughter echoing from inside the Impala. Jack came to the conclusion that black ice, and ice in general, was hard, impossible to walk on, and absolutely unforgiving when you slammed your head against it. Jack decided that he didn't like the black ice, he decided that he didn't like ice at all. This was fortunate as seemed as though the feeling was mutual.

There was a skidding noise somewhere off to his left and Jack opened his eyes. He turned his head towards the sound and directly beside him was Marty's amused looking face, only eight inches from his own.

"That was the most graceful thing I think I've ever seen in my life. You should consider ballet, Jack," She said.

Marty lay on the ice next to Jack with her head propped up on her elbow. Her mouth was twisted in a smirk and she held an eyebrow in a raised position. The expression appeared condescending, but Jack could see the sparks of affectionate mirth gleaming in her eyes.

Now, the reason why Marty was laying on the ground was a mystery to Jack. He was also baffled as to how she had managed to sneak up on him the way she had. If she had been walking down the street, he would have seen her coming, but he hadn’t, and it wasn't as though he had been laying on the ground for very long. If she had been close enough to see him fall, then how had he not seen her? Jack sat up and his brows pulled together in slight confusion.

"Where did you come from?" He asked. Marty followed his lead and sat up with a shrug. A large, overstuffed backpack was slung over her shoulders, yet she carried it with ease.

"From over there," She said, causally gesturing to the thicket of trees just behind the Motel as if it was a normal thing for people to go bushwhacking to their destination instead of simply taking the road.

"Why?" Jack wondered. Marty shrugged again.

"Cause' it's faster and way funner than using the road," She answered. Then she blinked and her face sort of scrunched up and she shook her head, laughing to herself. "Funner? Funner? That's not even a word! I think I need to use the sleep." Jack laughed with her for a moment before glancing to his feet and frowning. "What's wrong Jack-Jack?" The line between Jack's brows deepened and he looked to Marty.

"Why do you call me that?" He asked, temporarily distracted from his cold, slippery problem. Marty's mouth twitched with a tiny laugh.

"Jack-Jack is a character in a movie about superheroes. Have you ever seen The Incredibles?"

"No, I haven't."

"Oof, buddy! I'll have to show it to you one of these days, just remind me. Anyway, Jack-Jack is a baby with, like 50 different powers that he just uses willie-nillie and, yeah; it's a pretty funny movie and when you said you had powers and that you're, like two, that's just what I thought of," She explained. "And I'm rambling again, sorry!"

"I don't mind. I like knowing what you're thinking about," Said Jack. Marty ducked her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in a shy sort of way.

"Nah, you'll get tired of it eventually." Marty tapped her forehead. "Up here is nothin' but a random mix of movie quotes, song lyrics, and paradoxical questions."

"I don't think so," Jack said, shaking his head. Marty made a face.

"Well I do! I live up there, dude! Anyway, what was the long face for?" Her change of subject brought Jack to his problem.

"I don't like ice," He said, as if that explained everything. Marty raised an eyebrow in question, "It's impossible to walk on!" Jack exclaimed.

"Ah, I see. I guess that explains why you look like a homicide victim." Marty gestured to the frozen pools of Jack's blood on the tarmac and the blood coating the back of his head. "Want some help getting up?" Jack nodded.

Planting her feet on the icy surface, Marty stood and extended her hand for Jack to take. He used her arm to pull himself up, doing his best to replicate what Marty had done to stand. He wobbled a bit and almost fell back down, but Marty caught and steadied him before that happened. When he was vertical again, Jack glanced toward the Impala and realized that now he had to get over to it without falling. Marty was quick to notice his worry.

"Come on, Jack. It's really not that hard, look!" Letting go of his hand and sliding out onto the ice, she twirled once, jumped into the air and then twirled again, lifting her foot to her knee. Her foot touched back down and dragged her to a stop, facing Jack who looked like he'd seen a miracle. "See?" Marty did jazz-hands.

"I don't think I can do that," Jack said, sounding a little intimidated.

"Oh, no way. That took me years, I was just showing off!" She explained with a wave of her hand. Moving back to him, she reached down to pick up an instrument case and wrap a gray plastic grocery bag around her hand.

"You should teach me!"

Marty chuckled and pulled some of her hair away from her face. Her black-to-grey-to-white hair was down again today, descending all the way to her knees. Jack had never met anyone with hair that long, but he thought it was amazing.

"Alright, just remind me take you ice-skating and movie bingeing, kiddo."

"I don't think you can call me 'kiddo'," Jack said with a frown.

"Why not? If you don't like it, I'll stop saying it."

"Well, I am biologically older than you, right?" Jack pointed out. Marty chuckled.

"Where does a two-year-old hear a word like 'biologically'?"

"I heard Sam use it."

"Makes sense." Marty shrugged. "Anyway, you're right, but I call everyone 'kiddo' age doesn't really matter. I call people all sorts of things."

"Like what?"

"You'll find out, honey-bunches-of-oats."

"Is that one of them?"

"Yup!" Marty snatched Jack's hand and helped him over to the car where she knocked on the driver's side window. Dean rolled it down and she glanced at the men inside. "Hey guys!"

***

"H-hey, Marty! You-you came!" Sam greeted me, he sounded surprised.

"I promised I would!" I said, I didn't miss the 'I-told-you-so' look Jack shot at Sam, "Dean, could you pop the trunk? I've got precious cargo." I raised the instrument case with my violin up into view.

"Yeah, sure." Dean climbed out of the car and skidded a little getting to the back where he opened the trunk.

I swallowed deeply. There were a LOT of weapons in there. Dean pulled on a tab and a panel came down, covering the arsenal in the truck's false bottom. I placed my case in carefully and slid it all the way to the back. Taking off my backpack, I positioned it between the case and the truck's door so my instrument wouldn't slide around. It was the most valuable thing I owned; I couldn't have it getting damaged. I then nodded to Dean and he closed the trunk. I was really doing this.

Jack opened the Impala's door for me and clung to it like a lifeline as I gathered my hair and slid into the backseat next to Cas. The boy followed after me and pulled the door shut.

"Here we go." Dean put the car into gear and rolled it out onto the road.

"So, where are you guy's taking me?" I asked, shifting to get comfortable in my seat.

"Lebanon, Kansas," Dean answered.

"Ooh, that's a long way away. I'm sorry I was so late. Did I make you very late?" Dean shrugged.

"Doesn't really matter, but yeah."

"I'm really sorry, I just wanted to say goodbye to somebody," I apologized, "But I brought chocolate! Will that atone for my sins?" I raised the bag of goodies Dan had given me.

"Hell yeah!" Dean reached back and opened his hand for the brown gold. I dropped a truffle into his palm, tossing one into Sam's lap and handing another to Jack. I held one out to Cas but he turned me down.

"No thank you, Martina," The angel said, gently.

"It's Marty, remember?" I corrected him and shrugged, unwrapping the candy. "Well, more for me, I guess." Dean reached his hand back again, asking for seconds. "Dude, this is gonna be a long ride, we gotta save our provisions." I declared, dramatically slapping his hand away.

"Aw, man!"

"Suck it up, butter-cup." I was about to pop the candy into my mouth when I noticed something on the wrapper. "Does anybody here like nougat?" I asked. Jack's head snapped up, his eyes begged for the truffle in my hand.

"I do."

"Oh good! I can't stand the stuff!" I passed him the chocolate. Jack looked at me like I was insane.

"Oh no, Jack. She doesn't like nougat, are you sure you guys can be friends?" Sam joked. At least I was pretty sure he was joking.

"You say that like I committed high treason!" I chimed.

"I dunno, I do feel betrayed," Jack said with his mouth full. I faked a gasp.

"I don't believe this! Jack, are you breaking up with me?" Dean burst out laughing, Sam snorted, and Jack just gave me his lopsided grin. My comment even won a quiet chuckle from Cas. I took that as a good sign.

"Yeah, I think so." Jack chuckled.

"Can we still be friends?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my every word. Jack pretended to think about that.

"Only if you teach me to ice-skate," He mock-decided.

"It's a date! Wait, no its not, you broke up with me." I reached out and shook Jack's hand, sealing our satirical deal. The car shook with laughter and I gave myself a mental tally mark as I tied up my treat bag, placing it at my feet. When the laughter died down, Castiel was the first to speak up.

"Was that an instrument case you brought with you?" He asked.

"Yeah it is. Why?"

"I'd just like to get to know you," He answered simply.

"We all do. So, what instrument do you play, Marty?" Sam turned in his seat to look at me.

"Uh, I play the violin," I answered timidly.

"Are you very good?" Sam wondered.

"Um, well, I don't know. I'm sorta out of practice, but I started playing when I was eight," I replied. Sam chuckled.

"I'll take that as a yes." His tone was warm, despite his previous distrust. It made me smile, maybe I was winning him over.

"Okay, my turn," Dean spoke up.

"Yeah?"

"What's with the hair? I mean, that's a lot of hair. Why don't you cut it?" He asked. I bit my lip and nodded, trying to think of an acceptable answer.

"Well, my mom loved to braid hair, and my sisters, Bree and Jackie, hated having long hair so they cut theirs real short and my mom couldn't do anything with it, but I liked having my hair long. My mom would spend hours working on my hair, that was our time together. See, she always got so sad when I would cut it and now I just-" I stopped and looked at the floor of the Impala. "Now I just can't bring myself to cut it. Not without her. I don't want to make her sad. It's all I've got left of her." With a start, I realized I was crying and quickly wiped my tears away with my sleeve.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I cut Dean off.

"It's okay." It had to be.

"Well, what about the color, what's that about? Or does this have a tragic story behind it too?" Dean asked, trying to make a joke. I cracked a smile.

"Oh, I've always wanted to have it like this. I love the fading colors, so hiding from a blood thirty vampire just gave me the motivation to actually go through with it," I shrugged.

"So, what's your real hair color?" Dean pressed.

"Black."

"Wait, that's natural?" He sounded stunned.

"Yeah!" I giggled a little. "The black is real, only the grey and white parts are dyed."

"You're lucky, black hair is cool. Looks good on you too."

"Thanks’ Dean."

That was when we passed the small, wooden sign on the side of the road. The paint was old, faded by the sun, and chipping away but I knew what the words said.

Now leaving Copper Harbor We'll get you back soon enough!

As I watched the town I'd called home for so many years fade from my view, I found myself hoping that I'd never return. I looked forward at the road ahead of me and the hunters beside me.

I looked to the future.

The future was looking pretty good.

~See, I had this crazy dream last night, this man he talked to me He told me everything that's good and bad about my history

He told me you are, you are the future

And the future looks good The future looks good to me~

Lyrics from: The Future Looks Good by One Republic

[gimme-a-hand-scaevola]

A review of the book The Rook by Daniel O’Malley that nobody ever asked for...

Ok so @chemcat92 recommended me this book and I listened to it on audiobook and I just... have a lot of thoughts. I haven’t read the sequel and I’m torn if I will. Having watched some AMVs of the show, it’s a hard pass. My review is going to be in three parts:

1. The plot

2. Wasted Potential - In General

3. Wasted Potential - Gestalt the Most Wasted Character Potential I’ve Read since Drizzt Do’Urden 

Obviously spoilers under the cut. 

Part 1: The Plot - i.e. I think Daniel discovered books four days before he started writing 

Ok so... The plot of this book. It starts off STRONG I will give it that. Myfanwy Thomas wakes up in a rainy part surrounded by bodies wearing latex gloves and no memories. She soon discovers her previous self lost her memories but because she was organized and knew it was coming, she has eased new Myfanwy’s transition. She gets to choose to stay in her life through letters and then we get an easy way to give flashbacks. Anyway this part RULES. 

Honestly, the book starts strong as hell. Myfanwy discovers she has supernatural powers over people’s nervous systems and is a trained bureaucrat for a supernatural wing of the government. This all runs sort of like a combination of Heroes and Harry Potter in the best way possible. And here is where we find the strongest part of the book: the superpowers. 

We don’t have to look that far to find Heroes type shows or books where everyone has a special ability, so if you’re going to go that route, you’ve gotta bring it. And honestly, Daniel brings it. They powers are cool as hell, they’re inventive, they’re well bounded. I felt like I understood what people’s powers and limitations were. We were in a land with magic, but it never felt cheap. This is going to dovetail into my absolute RANT about Gestalt but give me a sec to get there. 

Ok. So honestly I don’t even have any complaints until the third act. Act one gives us the set up, act two introduced the big bad the Grafters and so far so good. We’ve got good but elitist supernatural guys vs. bad but more egalitarian supernatural guys. We also know that it was someone in the supernatural org (it has a name but the name is so stupid I can’t spell it) that betrayed our protag and stole her memories and they’re still around and teamed up with the evil Grafters. Intrigue?? Don’t know who to trust???? Love it. 

For some reason everyone is either old, or hot, or so inhuman it’s viscerally horrifying. Love this touch. Eleanor from the Good Place taught us that it’s totally free to imagine everyone in a story as super hot. And it is. So they’re all super hot. Love it. Good commitment, Daniel. 

But then we get to Act three. So, this was a big swing on ol Danny’s part because a lot of the effect of this had to do with carrying out mystery. We’d built a lot of tension on the suspense  Who Betrayed Myfanwy. So obviously it’s really important for me to be surprised or at least satisfied with who this is. (As an aside, I would have been ok with guessing correctly, I definitely don’t subscribe to surprise trumping cohesive plot). Ok. With that on paper... like... holy shit. What a stupid “reveal.” 

So in part 1, like the first scene we get of old Myfanwy’s letters giving us context, she says that her apartment at work was inherited from a dude Conrad something that got promoted. And then she says it’s super badly decorated, and later we see it and this shit is straight out of Austin Powers, mirror over a round bed, The Whole Shebang. But she also says that this guy who otherwise is supposed to be very smooth and charismatic like... asks her about the decor.... every time they interact. Every Time They Interact. The second this was mentioned (WHICH IS AFTER WE KNOW SHE WAS BETRAYED) I'm like “oh ok so this guy bugged her room he’s the villain” and I only wasn’t sure because it was WAY too obvious. 

But no. He’s the villain. He has a big reveal where he’s like “AND I BUGGED YOUR ROOM” and I'm like... well... yeah. Of course you did. But here’s the thing tho... Myfanwy’s like... WHOLE ASS JOB is planning covert ops. So... is she good at her job??? IS SHE???? 

But we also don’t actually show how characters are based on their actions, we are just told how they are. But we will circle back to that in the Gestalt part. That’s honestly the sum of my rant about the plot. It was nothing. It put all its eggs in the basket of the worst most boring reveal of all time. Daniel, I think you might just be boring. 

Part 2: Wasted Potential - Everything but Gestalt who gets a special part to themselves.

The big sin of this book might just be too many good ideas. There’s a lot of characters, they all do cool stuff, but we have like 200 pages, so there wasn’t enough time to do anything with all these guys. I got lost about who was who like 80 times because they’re basically all sneaky hot magic guys. One of them smokes and is a soldier and he seems chill. 

There’s a vampire and he gets a scene and a long intro that reads more like a wiki page. Like it was interesting but you would have lost NOTHING cutting him as a character except that he was cool. You never ever believe that he was the bad guy because it’s super well established in the Certified Back Story that he could give two shits about the politics of the humans. He’s there bc he’s an adorably young vampire who is very curious so his dad set him up as a powerful government agent as though it was enrolling him in a prep school. Love it, but again, we don’t.... need him around. 

There’s a lady who can walk through dreams and I thought she was going to be important based on the fanfare of her introduction but then we forget about her basically entirely. 

There’s a whole American wing that we also only see anything interesting about in side story. Basically the world building is really good. Like pretty superb to be honest. But it’s bracketing a story that is nothing so it makes even good characters seems really random. And that bring us to:

Part 3: My Darling, Gestalt. My Type. My Weakness. What a Sad Little Thing You Are (Also misogyny)

Alright... if the rest of this review wasn’t salty enough for you... let the salt begin. Gestalt. So named because of the word meaning larger than the sum of its parts. And so they were destined to be. And so they were most definitely not. So Gestalt’s whole thing is that they are one consciousness with four bodies. They can either control one body at a time and sort of shut the others down or they can control them all at once but that becomes harder if one of them requires more attention than another, like if one is in a fight. 

Two twins (men), one fraternal brother, and a sister. If anyone is thinking “uhoh, only one girl, hmm can Daniel handle that? Seems like maybe some Smurfette style misogyny-lite is coming,” you would be wrong. Super wrong. Because it is not misogyny-lite. It’s aggressive Fight-Me-In-A-Perkins-Parking-Lot misogyny. So go fuck yourself, Dan. 

Alright, so to number Gestalt’s sins. 

1. Scrape off some of that intro mustard.

They’re introduced in the LONGEST fucking passage I’ve ever read telling me that this dude is hard to talk to and weird. Like, I’m in an urban fantasy book already, I'm all set. Also... bitch SHOW ME they’re weird. Like can I see some interactions that give me second hand embarrassment??? No. It is actually never uncomfortable to talk to Gestalt. I only know that because people are super fucking rude about them. But it is never earned. So I don’t feel sympathy when people are like “Oh noooo you have to spend a car ride with Gestalt? Ewwwww sorry.” I’m just like, “What’s your fucking problem? They seem fine.” 

2. They’re supposed to be Bad At Planning but when?? 

Alright so there ARE times they’re bad at planning and we will GET TO THAT. But it’s only post-reveal like... what we are told during a monologue that they were dumb as shit. And that wasn’t even like not being good w/ details like it’s implied they are, it’s literally like doing dumb ass stuff. And it felt more like my bud Dan didn’t have a good handle on why stuff was dumb as rain than Gestalt being silly. 

Also.... this is a stupid use of this sort of character. They’re dumb and bad at planning??? THEY’RE A JOINT CONSCIOUSNESS why would you waste that making them “Good at kicking ass.” ugh. Fine. 

3. They get sidelined IMMEDIATELY 

So a guy named Pumice Stone or Kettle or Lil boy Bad At This or something outs that Gestalt is working with the Grafters because he like.... wasn’t paying attention. It was boring. But anyway so they capture two of the bodies and then stop addressing Gestalt until the end. They have one weird scene where the protagonist like.... freaks them out but ok. Fine. Why is Gestalt so Yelly. Why are so many villains in this book yelly. Ew. 

4. The REVEAL MONOLOGUE. 

I know this is a long ass review already. But my Feelings Must be Heard. So in the end when Conrad surprises no one but “smart” Myfanwy that he was the bad guy, we also get a reveal from the surviving Gestalt bodies that:

a. There’s an incest baby

b. They’re afraid of death

c. They’re so phenomenally stupid I have lost all interest in them

So... this is where the misogyny comes in. I’ll note here that the only time we interact w/ Eliza, the special girl body, is when she takes a carried to Hogwarts the super secret magic school with Myfanwy and she doesn’t do anything except we get the internal note that she’s like... gained weight. This is the misogyny-lite we expect. (And no, Dan, you don't get any points bc a female character is the only pleased she got pudgy bc YOU wrote the female character so we’re all set there.)

And then we discover that the weird blonde (lol oh yeah they’re all hot blondes) baby that Conrad “Evil Austin Powers” British-Last-Name has with his weird wife is actually a Gestalt body that Eliza had after she boned down with her other body who is genetically a brother and consciously herself. 

K. Ok. I have. Ok. Alright. Daniel. Ok. 

SUBPART A: My Feelings about Gestalt: Oh Eliza, my darling, my dear, would that I could bring you Justice

So after Eliza is shot dead one of the interchangeable boy bodies of Gestalt yells at Myfanwy about how terrible that is bc it was the only body who could bear children so now THE HORROR they’ll die. 

For god’s fucking sake Daniel O’Malley. What the fuck is your goddamn problem. You LITERALLY wrote a Smurfette Syndrome character who is only important because she can have babies. She is literally just there to be a baby-box. What the fuck. Get fucking wrecked. Thank GOD Starz cut your program and fuck the Aurealis Awards for giving you an award for this fucking book. But they’re a sci-fi award so this is probably super progressive for them. I was pleasantly annoyed by the basic nature of this book until this part. Now I am just done with your content. This was more overtly sexist that Supernatural. So... real swing and a miss. 

ANYWAY FORTUNATELY this opens a whole new can of worms that I get to ruthlessly mock certified Basic Bitch Daniel O’Malley for. 

SubPart 2: Gestalt Raises Interesting Philosophical Questions Daniel Isn’t Smart Enough to Address

So, remember, I would have cut this dude more slack if he didn’t do that to Eliza. Gestalt, to be honest, this whole review is dedicated to what you Could Have Been. 

Interesting Questions or Comments We Could Have Asked:

Does having a baby being one of five of your bodies affect your consciousness? That thing doesn’t have object permanence? Is there like an intellectual cost to having another baby body? No, we don’t care. I think we just had there be a baby bc “Weird sister-sex” was as interesting as Daniel could get. Side Note: The obvious question of “lol haha lol is it incest or mAsTurBation is not going to be addressed here bc it is literally too boring to consider)

Does having a body who textually is said to have post-partum depression affect your joint consciousness? If not, why bring it up?? Bc she has “weird lady disease” is that why???

Are they....afraid of death????? Why didn’t you ever bring this up? Why have they showed only excitement at the prospect of very dangerous fights up to this point? Why are all four bodies in the field. 

WHY ARE ALL FOUR BODIES IN THE FIELD. Ok so here is one of those points that is definitely stupid but stupid in a dumb as dirt way. If you were afraid to lose your baby-box body, why would you send her into battle? 

Why didn’t they freeze a bunch of her eggs? In fact, why did she bear it at all? Why put your one female body that you only want for babies through that sort of danger? Canonically they all get paid an absurd amount and Gestalt is paid for each body, they can afford a surrogate.  

Why let a weird dude who is at best contemptuous of you raise your baby body? Why wouldn’t you want to do that? Doesn’t that give him a huge amount of leverage over you? 

Is the quality fo Gestalt’s form destined to decline if genetically they can only make more bodies by full genetic sibling offspring? Does that scare them? Again... does their physical brain affect their consciousness? 

If so... maybe that would be a good reason for them to want to join up with the Grafters who are way ahead in genetic research and engineering. 

ANYWAY Gestalt is sexist as shit and boring as hell and had SO MUCH WEIRD POTENTIAL. 

In summary: It was definitely fun but Fuck you, Daniel O’Malley 

[thiswasinevitableid]

7 with indruck?

7: I’m assigned to write a piece rounding up all the bad press that you, a famous celebrity, have been getting and you show up in my office and demand me to write a retraction and get the ‘real’ story”. I went SFW

“Dude! You can’t go in there! Hey, wait, dude, hold on!”

Jake’s voice jars Indrid from staring miserably at his computer screen. But it does nothing to prepare him for the stack of papers that slams into his desk. 

“Where the fuck do you get off man?” 

Staring him down is a man with dark hair, mis-matched eyes, a scar down his right cheek, and an extremely pissed-off expression. Indrid recognizes him instantly, both from T.V and his last assignment.

“Mr. Newton?” 

“Yeah, that’s me, the guy you been draggin through the goddam mud!” 

“I-”

“Where are you even gettin this stuff? Substance abuse, bad break-ups, the split between me and my team, who the fuck told you that bullshit?”

“I am not going to reveal my sources.”

“Oh now you get some fuckin ethics?”

“I was just reporting what people told me. I was assigned to round up the press around you now that you’re relaunching your show, and this is what I got. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”

“Upsets me?” Mr. Newton plants his hands on the desk, leaning into Indrid’s space, “buddy, I ain’t even on the same planet as upset right now. I’m actually feelin pretty damn calm, because I know who the fuck is to blame.”

“It’s not my fault” Inrid snaps back, “I got assigned it at random, so if you have issues kindly take them up with Woodbridge.”

“Sir, if you insist on raising a fuss in my office-”

“This him?” Mr. Newton points to Woodbridge as the editor appears from his office. 

“Yes.” Indrid glares at Woodbridge through his glasses; he told him these kind of stories would lead to trouble, and it wasn’t even his usual beat.

He braces for Mr. Newton continuing to escalate, but instead the stocky man takes a deep breath , holding his hands up apologetically.

“Look, I’m real sorry, shouldn’t have come in guns blazin like that, and I know you fellas gotta make a livin same as anyone but this kind of stuff-” he whacks the papers into Indrid’s lap, “y’all gotta remember there’s a human on the other end of it.”

“That’s a very fair point, Mr. Newton-” Woodbridge gestures towards the door.

“A human with a damn good lawyer.”

“Mr.Newton, free speech”

“Protects you from the government, not from the Duck. I don’t mind the break-up nonsense, that happened plenty during the first show. Leo, Minerva, and I have been through every relationship configuration known to man, accordin to papers like yours. But the shit about me drinkin? That could damage my career. So could the reasons your ‘sources’ gave for why the show ended. You tellin me you’d hire a fella who apparently yelled at his co-hosts day in and day out and ‘couldn't hack’ bein’ outdoors?” This last question he directs at Indrid, who shakes his head. 

“Mr. Newton, retracting the story would look very bad for us. However, we’d be more than willing to publish your side of the story.”

“Close, but my word ain’t enough to counter those claims about me bein’ incompetent. I’m goin’ on a month and a half tour to location scout and shoot the first two episodes. I want one of your writers to come with. Specifically, I want him.” He points to Indrid.

“Wait, why me? I’m not a travel writer, and I have a photography assignment due next week.”

“Because you’re the one who caused this mess, slim.”

Indrid starts to protest when Woodbridge turns to with a smirk.

“Start transferring your assignments, Indrid; you’re going on a roadtrip.”

----------------------------------------

Indrid grumbles to himself as he waits on the curb with his bag. Duck, as Mr. Newton has said to call him, told him to pack only one bag, and to bring his camera (“saw your shots when I was researchin you; you might like shootin out on the road”).

A motorcycle pulls up to the curb as he checks the time on this phone. He doesn’t give the vehicle a second look until the rider speaks to him.

“Glad you’re on time.” The helmet comes off, revealing Duck looking much calmer than the last time he saw him, “let’s get your gear on the bike and get goin’.”

Indrid stares at him in disbelief, “were you at any point going to warm me that I’d be doing this whole trip on a death machine?”

“Didn’t think I had to. Figured you knew this was how I traveled now, given all your, uh, thorough research.” Duck fixes him with a shit-eating grin as he straps his bag onto the bike, then hands him a helmet.

Indrid groans, jams the helmet on and awkwardly climbs onto the back of the bike.

“Gonna have to hang onto me, slim.” Duck’s voice crackles through his helmet, “don’t worry, I ain’t gonna bite you, even if I still kinda feel like it.”

“How encouraging.” He loops his arms around the T.V star, winces as the bike pulls out into traffic. There’s a laugh as he tightens his grip in fear, Duck’s body suddenly the only safe thing in the world. 

They zoom onto the freeway, and promptly come to a dead stop in traffic.

“Truly invigorating.” Indrid mutters. 

“Ain’t gonna be much fun until we’re outta the city. And I ain’t about to go zippin’ between lanes to cut ahead; great way to get us both killed.”

As they inch along, Indrid starting to sweat from the heat of the pavement, Duck asks, “did you ever watch the show?”

“Is there anyone who didn’t? Wild World was on every day. I’m fairly certain it’s still all Animal Planet plays some days.”

“Yeah but, uh, did you actually watch it on purpose?” 

“I did, now and then. I found Minerva’s tendency to try more extreme forms of exploration stressful, but I generally enjoyed what I saw. I’m not surprised you’re the one who picked the show back up; you were always oddly compelling on camera, and it was clear it was a passion project for you.”

“Yeah, it really was. Is. Feels weird to be doin’ it without them. Can’t blame ‘em for havin’ their own lives and goals though. Leo was ready to retire after the Gila Monster incident, and Minerva’s wanted to run an adventure bootcamp for years.”

“You know, if you hurry and explain everything in the next ten minutes, you can just pull off there and drop me at the edge of town.”

A chuckle, “Nice try, Indrid. You ain’t gettin outta roughin’ it that easy.”

“It was worth a try. Alaska was the last episode run, right?”

Duck’s posture shifts so subtly that, were he not holding him, Indrid wouldn’t have noticed it. 

“Yeah. Yeah it was. Nothin’ like gettin attacked by a wolf and takin a bunch of rabies shots to the gut to put you off filmin’.” 

“It really was a wolf? Everything I read said-”

“I’d misidentified what attacked us? Yeah, I know. American wolves never really go after humans, that’s why we were so fuckin’ screwed when this one did. Poor fella. He was sick. We coulda proved what happened except I told Leo to destroy the footage and we had a knock down, drag out fight over it until he did.”

“Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want my pain, Minerva’s pain, and the wolf’s pain to become some goddamn viral sensation!” Duck snaps. 

Indrid decides to drop it, feels Duck sag in the drivers seat. In spite of dragging him out into the wilderness, Indrid doesn’t bear Duck any bad feeling. And he doesn’t like seeing him sad. 

“I, ah, I always liked the episodes where you showcased moths and butterflies. Moths are my favorite creatures, they’re so varied but so overlooked.”

Nothing but the traffic around them, then, “I once saw a Luna Moth bigger’n my hand. Didn’t get it on camera but damn was it a stunner.”

“Where did you see it?”

“Now there’s a story…”

By the time Duck finishes the cars are finally moving, and Duck changes them into the lane leading towards the exit for a single lane, county highway. 

“Fuckin’ finally. Alright Indrid, hold tight.”

What follows is simultaneously the most thrilling and most terrifying four hours of Indrid’s life as Duck speeds down the road, win whipping around them and the world going by in a blur that’s much more alarming when not behind metal and glass. They find a rest stop, where Indrid shotguns an entire bag of skittles under Duck’s amused gaze, and get back on the road for an only slightly less terrifying four hours more. 

They stop for the night at a KOA (“you’re lucky, slim, I got us a cabin to ease you into things”). Whereupon Indrid is treated to the sight of Duck stripping off his road gear, back muscular and sporting several scars.

“How are you likin’ life on the road?” Duck asks, not turning but starting to undo his pants. Indrid doesn’t look away until he’s down to his boxers.

“You know, it’s growing on me.”

They make their first shooting destination the next afternoon, setting up camp in a mostly-empty campground before hiking off into the woods. Duck shoots B-roll while Indrid photographs, the pair working in near total silence before meeting up with their contact near a jumble of boulders.

“Nice to see you again, Thacker.” Duck shakes the man’s hand, and gets a pat on the back.

“Good to you too, sport. Who’s the new fella?”

“My biographer.”  Duck deadpans.

Duck spends the rest of the day filming as Thacker helps him find nest and burrows and creatures to shoot and narrate over. In spite of the show being done on a single camera, Duck is compelling as always when he talks about the natural world. 

Indrid just wishes he’d sprung for better hiking boots.

“Ooof.” He mutters, face down on his sleeping bag.

“Not surprised, we did about ten miles all told today.”

“I repeat. Oof.”

A kind, sympathetic laugh, “C’mon, you’ll feel better after some dinner.”

Later that night, as he’s climbing into his sleeping bag, Duck pokes his head into the tent.

“Psst, Indrid, come look.” 

Indrid follows him out, kneels by a clump of flowers when he waves him down. 

“See, look, riiight there” Duck points, “it’s a Hummingbird Moth.”

Indrid gasps, delighted, and watches the pollinator flit from blossom to blossom. Duck sits beside him, answering his questions when he asks them, until it’s too dark for either of them to see.

--------------------------------

Duck never thought he’d have a travel companion again. Not after Alaska, not after the attack and what came in the nights to follow. 

He certainly never assumed the wiry, silvery haired writer who’d nearl fucked everything up would turn out to be that person. But Indrid, for all his initial skepticism, has become an excellent partner. He’s easy going, eccentric enough that Duck’s own quirks don’t phase him, quiet;y awkward, and a damn good photographer. The fact his alienly handsome face has become a bit windburnt and his pale hair a little longer only adds to his charm.

Christ, Duck wants to rip those red glasses off and kiss him until he’s breathless. 

Currently, he’s missing the feeling of long arms around his waist, as he left Indrid back with a family whose jeep had run out of gas. They’re in one of the long, monotonous stretches of desert highway where passersby are few and cell phone service is unreliable, so Duck volunteered to ride ahead to the next gas station and bring some back. As the Jeep comes into view, he sees the family waving. Indrid is leaning against the car, smiling as if Duck is the greatest thing he’s ever seen. 

That settles it; when they make Santa Fe, he’s calling The Weekly Rounds and asking Woodbridge to extend Indrid’s assignment. And if the old man refuses, well, Animal Planet is thrilled to have him back, and made it clear they’d be happy to pay for an additional camera man.

------------------------------

This time they’re the only ones in the campground, and Indrid suspects it might technically be closed. Indrid could do this forever. He wants to stay like this, with Duck, day in and day out, have their evenings be like this. Duck makes a fire, keeping it small to be safe, and the evening progresses like normal, the two of them swapping stories and munching on the dinner they whipped up from leftovers from the last gas station. Then the moon rises, two days from full, and Duck doubles over with a groan. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck.”

“What’s wrong?” Indrid moves to help him, but Duck raises his hand to stop him.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, ‘Drid, fuck, I thought I had another day, thought we could make it somewhere I could keep you safe.”

“Safe from what? Duck, please, you’re hurt, I can call for help, just hold on.”

“No” Duck snarls, still hunched over, “you ain’t callin anyone. What you’re gonna do is run, far and as fast as you can, away from me. Find a tree, find a cave, flag down a car if you can find one. Go, please, fuck.” He falls off the stump he’s sitting on, and in spite of his instructions Indrid tries to help him up.

“Go!” It’s a growl now, and when Duck looks up at him his face is changing shape. Duck drags himself away from the fire, into the shadows, and Indrid turns, starting to run. There’s howl of pain and he stops. He can’t leave Duck like this. He won’t.

Resolute, he turns back to the camp and immediately regrets his decisions. Whatever is in the shadows isn’t human, not anymore. It’s growling low and labored, as it rises onto two feet and howls. 

“Oh fuck me.” Indrid doesn’t dare turn his back, tries to slowly creep away and trips on a stray piece of firewood. The monster lowers to all fours, padding into the firelight across from him. It’s fur is dark and shaggy, it’s hands sport claws and when it opens it’s mouth to grin at him it’s teeth glitter like rows of knives. 

He has to keep the fire between him and it, even if he has to spend his night running in some Scooby-Doo style circle around the fire pit. It’s his only chance.

In one, large leap, the werewolf clears the fire and lands in front of him, front paws bracketing his body when he tries to crawl back.

“Told you to run, slim.” 

“I, I can’t.”

“Didn’t think you were stubborn to the point of dyin’.” 

“Y-you told me not to run from predators, and I c-cannot drive the bike. And, and I didn’t, I couldn’t leave you.”

“Ain’t that sweet.” Duck grins again, “but why do you think I told Leo and Minerva I wasn’t safe to be around no more? Because a werewolf don’t know friend from foe.”

“That’s, that’s a lie. Y-you clearly know me, you know your past, you’re not some mindless killer ahgod.” He whimpers as a muzzle finds the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply before sending hot, hungry breath across his skin. 

“Mmmmm, you smell good, sugar.”

“You’re not going to eat me.” Indrid says, eyes shut.

“You seem real sure about that.” Another snuffle, tongue dragging along his throat.

“You’re not because you are still Duck, just very large and covered with fur and with a mouth full of unnecessarily sharp teeth, and even though you seem convinced you’ve become bloodthirsty you are still you.” It comes out in a rush and he holds his breath as a clawed hand cups the back of his head. Duck tugs his head back, nosing along his exposed neck. He stares at the stares, praying they’re not the last thing he sees. 

“I could rip your goddamn throat out.” Duck says matter-of-factly. 

“Do you want to?” He whispers, hands coming up instinctively to protect his vital organs.

A long growl, and then Duck’s face blots out the night sky, “No. I don’t.”

“Ohthankgoodness.”

Duck rumbles out a laugh, “that’s puttin it mildly, slim. No one ever stuck around long enough to see what I’d do because I always hid myself or they had the goddamn good sense to run when I said too. Always assumed as soon as I was all the way changed, I’d wanna hurt people, even if they were people I loved.” He plucks Indrid’s glasses off, setting them carefully on the picnic table before using the pad of his thumb to wipe away a tear he hadn’t realized was there.

“What do you want to do instead?”

“In general, or to you?” 

“Both?” Indrid is puzzled by his phrasing. 

“Kinda amped up, like I wanna go for a run. Transformin’ basically releases a shit ton of adrenaline so your body just doesn’t collapse from the pain. But as far as you’re concerned…” the muzzle his back, snuffling at his face and chest, “dunno, mostly just wanna keep you close. Protect you. Some part of the wolf-brain is kinda just screamin ‘mine’ over and over again.”

“Oh. Ah. That’s, that’s good.” It’s also painfully arousing, but he’s not quite ready to admit that aloud yet.

“Probably helps that you’re wearing my shirt, since it means my scent is all over you already.”

“You let me borrow it AHHEY, gahthattickles” Indrid cackles as licks and nuzzles his face.

“Aww, didn’t know you were ticklish, sugar.” Duck grabs him, begins mercilessly rubbing his face on any exposed skin he can find.

“I’m not you are just very AHhehe hairy!” In retaliation Indrid reaches between them and scritches his fingers against Ducks chest and belly.

ThwupThwup

They both look at Duck’s tail with surprise. Indrid rubs his belly again.

ThwupThwup

“Didn’t know it did that. I mean, guess makes sense on account of bein’ kinda canine, but I guess I ain’t ever been really happy when I been like this before.”

“Should I keep doing that?”

“Fuck yeah. Hold on, here.” Duck adjusts so he’s on his back with Indrid more or less on top of him. Indrid resumes petting him, Duck making little happy whines as he does.

“Damn, that feels good sugar, ooh right.” 

“Why do you keep calling me that? It’s a pet name.”

“I, uh, fuck, um, fuck, I didn’t, meant to say, uh, fuck.” A deep breath as Indrid sits up to meet his eyes, “I’m real fuckin into you, ‘Drid. I, I didn’t wanna say nothin until we were somewhere you could bail out easily if you needed to. But I ain’t felt this way about anyone in years.”

“Is that wolf-you talking or you-you talking?” Indrid asks, toying with a patch of fur.

“Both. I wanna be with you, and wanna keep travelin with you as my partner, as my, uh, my boyfriend. As my mate. Okay, that last bit was definitely the wolf talking.”

“I...I would like that as well, Duck. I didn’t know how to say it, I was afraid that what happened with your friends meant you didn’t want to be close to anyone. Including me.”

Duck sighs, “I wish I’d known then what we figured out tonight. Maybe things woulda ended a little better between us three. I just, I couldn’t face the idea of bein’ out on a shoot with ‘em and havin this exact thing happen.”

“I must admit, the lack of a full moon is rather confusing.”

“It ain’t just the full moon. It’s a few days after and before too, and I thought I had one more before it hit. Plan was to sneak out of the hotel in Santa Fe and hole myself up in a cave somewhere.”

Indrid strokes his cheek, the fur a little coarser there, “That was what attacked you three, I take it.”

“Uh huh. We were trackin it, thinkin’ it was some kind of huge predator we might be able to film.  It jumped Minerva first, but she’s a tough one, managed to hold her own and only got scratched up. I pulled it off her and it bit me. I, uh, I shot it point blank while it was doin’ that. Turned into a man as it fell in the dirt. Leo and Minerva said I did what I had to but I...well, let’s just say I still see that fellas face a lot in my dreams.”

“No wonder you wanted the footage destroyed.” Indrid murmurs.

Duck nods, waves one hand in front of his face, “damn skeeters, c’mon, let’s get in the tent.”

The tent is a tight fit, but Indrid couldn’t be happier. He crawls onto Duck’s chest, nestling against his fur with a sigh. 

“Now if you have bad dreams when you’re like this, you have someone to to hold.”

Duck kisses the top of his head, “Thanks, sugar.”

Indrid falls asleep atop a giant wolfman, and wakes up to the morning sun and much smaller, human man sprawled beneath him, who he wakes with a flurry of kisses. 

They make Santa Fe by noon, riding in feeling freer then either of them has in a long time. When they ride out the next morning, Indrid has a new job and Duck has a new cameraman. But all either can think about at the moment is his new boyfriend, and the future spreading out ahead of them beneath the rising sun.