#so I'll continue to be absent for the rest of the week and probably into the next one as well. sorryyy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy · 4 months ago

Text

Rearview - Chapter 1 - Fragments

Summary: You accept Cas' offer to stop by the party for a few, and you and his friend hit it off more than you expected to. Although, Cinderella has to leave abruptly, after someone wicked notice's your presence.

Pairings: Dean x Reader, Cas x Reader!Platonic, DeanxJo!FWB

Characters: Dean, Cas, Charlie, Jo, others

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: drugs/alcohol, cursing, anthropology hate-joke directed at cas (i dont hate anthropologists or people majoring in it I SWEAR), frat guy mention, probable inaccurate college major descriptions, cas slander (all jokes), jo the ho,

Author's Note: this is my first time ever writing a LONG ass series like this, so you can be brutal, i'll only cry

Song: OMG (feat. will.i.am) by USHER, will.i.am, Feel So Close by Calvin Harris, The Weekend by Michael Gray, any 2000's-2010's radio hits work

Series Masterlist - Chapter 2

You didn’t even need to know the apartment number, all five of your senses are activated when you hit the floor it’s on. You wonder how the neighbors allow it, or if they are at the party as well. Finding the source of the overstimulation, you twist the knob and step into the room with caution. You almost have to squint through the haze of tacky multi-colored lights bouncing from one corner to the next, and the slight fog of something you were sure was not just tobacco.

Great, my hair will smell for a week after tonight.

You’re no stranger to marijuana or even a couple of pills, but the fun died when it was a catalyst for this past summer's events- part of the reason you moved in with Jo and Charlie. Addiction wasn't a problem for you, though. The fear keeps any desire at bay. You've made a silent vow to never do any of that again. But for now, drinking is on the table. Funny- because that's often where you end up while having a few.

Basic radio-play from the 2000s blasted through synchronized speakers in each room, bass overpowering most of the lyrics and other elements. You take a surprised notice at just how many people are able to squeeze into this apartment space. Granted, it's bigger and has a slightly more open layout than the one you're sharing with the girls now, but even so, you're sure there are over fifty people here. You respectfully squeeze by some of the groups lingering by the front rooms, apologizing if heads are turned to you trying to maneuver around them. From the entrance was the kitchen and living space, where your eyes found Cas', thankfully. He was listening to a couple of other guys fraternize, or chuckle that frat-guy-chuckle, or just exuberate that frat energy, as they continue to frat.

Okay, I need to relax- I can't be tired of everyone yet.

Cas' absent-minded nodding towards the guys transforms into a pleased smile as he meets your gaze. He stands up a bit straighter, beckoning you over with the flex of his fingers. A mix of a grin and smirk rests on your face, at Cas' welcoming reaction. He steps aside from the disfigured circle to give you a quick hug, saying your name, "I didn't think you were coming."

You shrug, as he lets go of you, both of you still grinning a bit, "I don't like to be predictable."

Cas scoffs with platonic affection- you’re glad to see him let loose some. He had been overly concerned with you since helping you move out. It only tacked onto your list of things to feel guilty about; abruptly moving into your friends' apartment, the emotional tolls of friends after the events of this summer. This guilt shit is starting to be a buzzkill. You push it to the back of your mind and try to keep the small smile plastered as Cas turns his body to one of the members of the outer social circle. Cas waves his hand, getting his friend's attention. You inwardly raise an eyebrow, trying to look at this guy's features with this awkward lighting in the kitchen, as he nods his head once to Cas in acknowledgment. He steps over to us with a red solo cup in hand, eyebrows raised, as he claps Cas on the back lightly. "What's up?"

Oh, interesting.

If you have to guess, he is most likely your age or slightly older. He carries a natural confidence, maybe too confident. Maybe slightly cocky, but it works for him. He can get away with it. His dirty blond hair frames the top half of his face. Very Prince Charming.

Cas points to you, as he speaks to his buddy, "This is," he says your name, "You remember that I said I was inviting her?"

His green eyes are captivating and full of life as he directs his gaze to you. His face brightened at your mention, which felt like a crime the way it flustered you. His lightly freckled face and symmetrical features almost distract you from his voice laced with charm. You know he is talking to you but it just goes in one ear and out the other as you find your way to the present again. "Dean-" He extends a hand which you gladly take and match his grip. At least I didn’t miss the important part.

"Nice to meet you, Dean." You smile, and for once it seems to come naturally. "I take it you go to school here, too?"

"I do, yeah," He dips his head. "I'll be graduating this year."

"That's great! What's your major?"

"Automotive Engineering."

Dean replies with a precise inflection, almost like he regrets it.

You nod, slightly impressed, "Oh wow, so like mechanics and such?"

Dean raises his lips into a wider smile, expecting to have to explain, "Short answer, yes, and long answer is that there's a focus on fixing and improving cars, but there's design work, as well. It's a lot of electrical and mechanical work tossed into one. Lots of computer work."

You dare take in every word he says like it is holy, because it sure sounds it coming from that mouth.

Woah, chill.

"Well, at least it's not Anthropology."

Maybe if you poke fun at Cas, he won't hear your thoughts. Dean gives a quick huff of laughter, eyes widening as he's taken aback by surprise at your immediate play toward Cas. He looks to Cas, who is blinking for a comical beat, and then turns his head to you with a tight-lipped smile. "I don't understand your gripe with my major."

"Explain your major to me." You prompt knowingly.

Cas huffs, knowing where this is headed but elaborates anyway, "Anthropology has to deal with observing humanity and trying to understand humans from a sociocultural standpoint."

I look to Dean with conviction, "He wants to professionally people-watch."

Dean turns the corner of his lips down in thought, leaning to Cas, "She's gotta bit of a point there, bud."

Cas incredulously darts his eyes between you and Dean, mouth partially agape as he searches for a defense that they can't use against him. He comes up empty before swiveling his body towards you, "You don't have a drink yet?" Then to Dean, "She doesn't have a drink yet," He backs away from them, slowly ducking from the conversation, "I'll go get you a drink."

You smirk, eyes moving to the floor, burning a hole in it because if you look at Dean you think you might embarrass yourself. Alas, you lift your head anyway, conversation bouncing right back in its place as Dean points his solo cup to you, "You didn't say what your major was."

"You didn't ask." You cock your head slightly, in playful accusation.

He purses his lips playfully, licking them before he drawls, "What's your major, sweetheart."

You shudder internally, desperately remaining collected. "Education with a focus on English. I'm working on becoming a high school teacher."

He hesitates, running his teeth over his lips- I should probably stop looking at his lips. "Didn't think I'd see a teacher at a party."

You narrow your eyes with fake offense, "What's that supposed to mean?"

The same stupid smile he won't wipe off seems to only get brighter the more you talk to him, he shakes his head, "I mean, a future teacher in an apartment full of alcohol and kids doing God-knows-what. Seems a little..."

"Oxymoronic?" You finish for him.

Dean searches your face, and you swear you can see the gears turning in his head at the word. "I think so."

You actually let out a laugh at that, not faking anything, it just springs out from your stomach.

"So. Why do you want to teach a bunch of hormonal teens?" Dean queried, intrigued.

"The salary, obviously." You deadpan.

Dean hums, leaning back on his feet, "Right. Like how I chose automotive engineering for the easy classes."

"Not because you would get a bunch of girls?"

His smile widens, almost upset that he didn’t come up with that first, "I like the way you think."

You flash your eyes up with a devilish innocence, a smirk unraveling on your face.

He shakes his head, his grin softening into something deeper, "No, really. What makes you wanna be a teacher?"

You let the silence stretch for a beat, gathering your thoughts like fragile threads, piecing them together.

"Believe it or not, I hated school. Always did. I was a good student...well-behaved, for the most part. But, I did the absolute bare minimum. I just was never engaged in anything, and I was just bored out of my skull. My parents would tell me that everyone hates it, and to get used to it, but...I was so miserable. In high school, my parents divorced and so, I was just utterly checked out. I stopped trying, and none of my teachers did all that much."

You pause, a soft grin opening on your face, "Except my sophomore year English teacher. One day, after class, he asked me to stay behind. And, of course, I was ready for the same, droning speech that I had heard about fifteen other times from every other teacher about missing assignments or failing grades, but instead... he asked about what music I listened to, what movies I watched, and what I did outside of school. And, God, we were talking for like an hour after class ended, and... I don't know. I just felt like he really listened. The next class, he started connecting the books we read to the things we'd talked about. If we were studying a novel, he’d bring up a character or a theme he knew I’d relate to. If there was an essay, he’d tell me to write about something I was passionate about. He didn't put these restraints on learning, and he taught us, not what he had to learn but what we wanted to. It made the whole damn class realize that we loved to learn...we just didn't like school. I guess... I want to be that. I want to connect with students the way he did with me, otherwise, I'd probably be a dropout by now."

Dean's gaze flickered with a sense of awe, and you just realized how long you must've rambled for.

Your brows draw together with self-consciousness. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, no..." Dean softly interrupted, "People don't always choose the route they're passionate about. It's nice to see a change in pace, y'know?"

You cock your head, an innocent deduction vocalizing itself before you have the chance to filter it, “You’re not passionate about your major.”

He flashes his eyebrows up, his mouth opening, but no sound comes out. He lets out a huff of air that forms a smirk, “I am. I like my major, but, uh, sometimes I feel like I have other callings. I just grew up around cars, so I figured I wouldn’t be wasting my time.” He shrugs in resignation.

“Why not pursue your other callings?”

“My dad owns a mechanics shop, well… the building anyway. When I was four, uh- my dad had to take care of me and my little brother, so we shut down. He wants me to get it back up and running again. He's basically guaranteeing that he's giving it to me after I graduate.”

“But you don’t necessarily want it?” You coax out of him, tilting your head empathically.

He huffs again, shaking his head, “It’s more of an obligation. He…” Dean bites his cheek for a moment, wondering if he’s sharing too much but opts to continue anyway, he found it easy to share with you, “He gave it up for me. And my brother. And, I want to do this for him. I owe it to him.”

You nod, a brief, almost imperceptible nod, as you drown in his gaze and his genuine talk. For once, it wasn’t just something shallow, but it certainly makes you wonder about his family life.

“And your mom? What does she do for work?” You query.

Dean swallows and licks his lips. Time heals all wounds apparently, but still, it’s not an easy thing to talk about, nonetheless know what kind of reaction to expect every time.

Cas comes back- thank whoever- with three solo cups, about halfway full, with what looks like punch, which you assume is spiked. Dean tosses his old cup away, and thanks Cas as he reaches for the new one. Cas reads you as he passes you your own.

“D’you get lost over there, Cas?” You play at him, and he barely even looks at you as he brings the cup in your hands to your mouth and essentially forces you to take a sip or two. It makes you smile a bit, and you can see Cas trying to fight his own mouth from doing the same.

"So how do you guys know each other?" You beg the question, taking a sip of the punch with your own free will this time.

Cas lets out a light chuckle, "Freshman year, I took my Continental to Singer's Auto-"

You gasp adoringly, "Oh, Betty..."

"Betty?" Dean practically grimaces.

"Cas' car." You answer lovingly.

Dean snickers at Cas, "You named your car Betty?"

Cas glowers defensively, "I didn't, she did."

"You name your cars too?" Dean's face lights up to you.

"I do."

Cas clears his throat, continuing, "I took my Continental-"

"Betty," Dean mockingly coos, tilting his head to the side the same way you did.

Unimpressed, Cas glares at Dean, "...to Singer's Auto while Dean was under an apprenticeship. The following week, he had been a customer at Silver & Flames, and I served him, which I thought was a humorous coincidence. Then we were in the same aisle at the library somehow two days after. I figured he was obsessed with me after our first interaction, so I introduced myself." Cas is evidently proud of that little spin at the end.

Dean sarcastically frowns, "You left out the part where you asked me to dinner."

Cas sighs with faux anger, "Beers and Doritos at my dorm after a football game is not a dinner."

Dean turns his head to you, winking, "He was totally trying to take advantage of me."

You giggle, enjoying their banter.

Out of nowhere, your name is squealed from somewhere nearby, and before you can gauge where it came from, it comes close to knocking you to the ground as it envelopes you in a hug from behind. "You came!"

"Hey, Charlie-" You grunt, concern and amusement mixing in your compromised vocal cords at her squeezing. "Having a good time?"

She's still attached to you, as she bubbles, "Yes! My D&D group finally found a time to meet up in person this time because this year a lot of our classes are actually pretty synched up on the times- Woohoo! And, with our new campaign, we're testing out a new theme which is gonna be sooo exciting- oh, and these drinks? Totally reminds me of the saloon-type things that we role-play with too, especially for my character that I made-"

You interrupt her, "What did you have to drink, babe?"

Charlie lets go, holding onto your shoulder still, evidently buzzing, "Like two or three somethings- I don't know but th'punch is great!"

Your eyes widen as you look from your punch cup to Dean, and you quickly dump the rest of it into the sink that's about two feet to your right. And Dean's standing there, desperately trying to wipe his concealed laugh off with his hand as he holds it to his mouth, turning his head slightly so he doesn't falter.

Cas just puzzles at all of the new lingo from Charlie while watching the interaction from the outside, but he isn't safe for very long. "Charlie, you remember Cas, right?" You point to him.

Charlie drunkenly squints her eyes a bit, and exaggeratingly gasps, "Oh yeah, Casss!" She moves over a bit to attack him with a hug.

His posture sways, as he takes a step back to balance himself, taken aback by her physical affection, but nonetheless, he awkwardly pats her back. She was off him as fast as she jumped him.

"I r'member you from this summer. It was so cool when you were all Terminator when Nick came banging on her door," Charlie points to you, "and you jus' stood there like a brick wall with the meanest little Cas face-"

You freeze, eyes blown wide and inhaling sharply at the unexpected reference to Nick, pulling Charlie back gently so she wouldn't fall, failing to ignore Dean's slightly furrowed brows at the story, "Woah- ha, Charlie, I think they're playing Kingdom Hearts in the living room!" You divert her attention, pointing elsewhere.

Charlie's face lights up at the mention, "They're playing Kingdom Hearts? Oh my god- I gotta go!" She cheers, and practically stumbles away to go towards the living room.

You glance at Cas, who glances at you, unsure of what to say at Charlie's uncensored blabber. Luckily, Dean speaks up first, mostly unaware, "She seems fun."

You let out a bit of an embarrassed chuckle, "God love her, she's my best friend."

Cas searches the room for her, piping up, "I'm going to make sure she stays away from the punch."

Dean fixes his gaze on you, "She an avid partier?"

"No. Not at all- I think she's just...indulging." You reason.

"And you?"

"And I, what?"

He flashes his teeth, "Are you an avid partier? Or, just indulging."

You take a breath, leaning your arm against your body, your empty cup sits at your lower thigh, as you find the right words, "I'm not here to get crazy. Cas, Charlie, and my other roommate Jo...they were begging me to not recluse this year."

Dean's eyebrows lower, his pretty eyes concentrated, "Jo Harvelle?"

You nod once, "Yeah, you know her?"

He pauses, rubbing his jawline, before conceding with a flustered grin, "Yeah, I've met her a few times."

It takes you a moment to let that sink in, by what he meant by that.

Oh.

Fuck.

Of course. Of course, they knew each other. Who did Jo not "know" by now.

It doesn't matter, why would it? You just met him, and you aren't looking for anything. Right?

Right.

Except it only matters a little, because you just gave him half of your life story and you kind of want to give him the rest of it.

You do your best to conceal the slight bitterness at the idea, unsure of what to say. "Oh, okay."

He smirks, unable to read you, "What?"

You lift your shoulders slightly, "Nothing, I've just never seen you walk of shame out of our apartment." You snort, unable to help yourself. But, it is true. You don't recall ever seeing him, and you would frequently hang out at Jo and Charlie's place before you moved in. You would remember a face like that.

He isn't fazed by the hostility of the comment, just a bit curious, "And...you've seen a lot of guys in there come and go?"

Well, shit. You didn't want to gossip. You bring a hand to your neck, guiltily leaving him unanswered, which was an answer in itself. You blow out an exhale, staying neutral, "It's not my business. I just live there."

"Right, right." He understands what it means.

The beat of awkward silence was somehow louder than the blaring music still playing. You dip your head for a moment, glancing around the room before gesturing to the living room. "I'm gonna check on the girls real quick, make sure Charlie isn't flat on her face or anything."

Dean looks like he doesn't know how to recover either, "Yeah, sure- uh, I'll be here."

You excuse yourself, and peer around the visible corners of the joint, scouting for the girls. A couple steps further in you see Charlie having the time of her life, controller in hand with a swarm of people cheering her on at Mario Kart. You smile to yourself, and search the room for Jo, ambling towards a couple of smaller groups of people, to find that she's in the corner, seductively leaning her back against a door frame as she talks to two guys who seem very interested in whatever she has to say. They respond eagerly it seems, and she bats her eyes as she dunks her cherry into her coke and wraps her lips around it.

She's just fine.

Walking back to the kitchen area, your eyes fall on someone making direct eye contact with you. It takes you a moment, as you halt in your footsteps, and your stomach does a flip.

It was one of Nick's friends- Chuck.

Chuck was a solid piece of shit. Anytime Nick had his cult over, most of them would pretend you weren't there, but a few, Chuck included, would hit on you even if it was in front of Nick. He would make you deeply uncomfortable, squirming on the couch trying to get away from him as he laughed, or the others did. And Nick never really did much to stop it, or would blame you for it if he did say anything. "Shouldn'ta been wearin' a skirt then."

Chuck leans over to some other guys he was with, keeping his cold eyes locked on you as he grabs their attention.

Your blood runs cold, darting away quickly, you weave through the crowd as your heart starts to pound in your chest. You knew this was a bad idea, you knew you could never really escape this- God, how foolish you were. The front door only seems to get further and further away, as your breathing picks up. Your hand slips on the knob before being able to press down and rush out. All you can do is just start to walk back home. You turn your head behind you, checking for anyone that follows, and you start to tell yourself to relax, as the door remains shut.

You shake in the elevator, wringing your hands as you try to calm yourself. The light flashes red as the door opens as you hover close to the exit, and he's right there.

Nick.

Your hand flies to your chest, snapping your eyelids shut momentarily.

"I'm so sorry, Miss- didn't mean to scare you!" The middle-aged gentleman in a white dress shirt and black slacks apologizes as he takes a cautious step into the elevator.

"Oh, my mistake. You're alright..." You timidly bow your head after blinking Nick away, leaving the elevator with the somewhat confused man, bracing a hand on the door as you attempt to make your way to the street.

The wind nips at your face, not sharp enough to be uncomfortable but enough to ground you. You keep up the fast-paced strides back home, appreciating the closeness in proximity it was from Cas' complex.

THE PARTY

Oblivious, Cas returns out from the restroom at the party still, double-taking at the sudden line that has formed outside of it. He peers around the room, finding Dean. He's wallflowering by the kitchen, swirling his cup before he lifts his head up to see Cas as he walks back over to him, looking around. "Where is she?"

Dean's eyebrows raise, his lips jut out as he glances around, "She said she was checking on the girls."

Cas' face falls slightly, "I didn't see her around."

High-heeled combat boots clunk over to the two, making their heads turn to Jo, a bit of a curious look on her face.

"Hey, Cas. Where's, uh," Jo says your name.

"I have no idea, she said she was looking for you and Charlie." Cas shrugs, still searching for her, even going to lengths to stand on the balls of his feet to look over the crowd.

"Oh, okay." She doesn't give it much attention. "Maybe I'll see you later, Dean?"

Dean tilts his head to Jo, his face subtly pinched, "Uh, yeah... later, I guess."

She tries the "hate to see 'em leave, love to watch ‘em walk away" exit, but Dean's a little less focused on her. He directs himself back to Cas rather easily and watches him pull out his phone. "Did she text you or somethin'?"

Cas sighs worriedly, "No. Not yet, I just texted her." He puts his ringer on and keeps his phone in his front jacket pocket. He narrows his eyes at Dean in a questioning manner, "Are you and Jo..."

He darts his eyes from one side of the room over to Cas, "Are we what?"

Cas pushes, "You know...benefiting from each other?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess," He relents, noncommittally. "Why?"

"Nothing. I just didn't know if you guys were planning to become anything more. She seems to have an interest in you…from that little pass a moment ago." Cas has always seen an extra gleam in Jo's eyes when she was standing next to Dean. She tries harder around him, he noticed. At social functions, she would act as if they were more than just their agreement. She would interlock an arm with him, and force a bit more of a romantic chemistry rather than just the sexual one. To be honest, Dean didn’t even really see much in her, but she was different from his ex. And he was satisfied with that. She made him forget for a while, which was all he really wanted from their situation.

"Nahh," He rasps. "I don't see it going anywhere. It's just a casual thing- and it’s mutual, so."

"Was merely wondering. I know it's been a while since Lisa, but-"

"Woah, dude- let's not." Dean holds his palm up, "This is a party, alright? We can talk women, but just... not past women."

"Right." Cas' lips tighten into a thin line. He unconsciously begins to look around for her again, and his eyes land on Chuck, who is discretely edging his way to the door. Now he understands why you disappeared. Damn it.

"I'll be back." He says to Dean, who has no time to answer as Cas stomps off.

Chuck's hand is on the knob and opens it about three inches before it slams shut in front of him. Cas towers above him, "Hey, man. Where’re you headed?"

Chuck snaps his head to Cas, shrugging with shifty eyes, “I was just heading out, I got somewhere to be, man.”

"Do you." Cas challenges.

"Yeah. I do." He tries again to open the door, but Cas doesn't budge.

"I'd be careful if I were you. You remember what I did to your friend." Cas threatens, glaring intensely. He knows he can't hold him here, but he can at least attempt to put the fear of God in him.

Chuck scoffs, but he doesn't quite come off as the tough shit he thinks he is, "I'm not fuckin' scared of you."

"That's your first mistake. If there's a second, it'll be too late for you." He warns, eyes staring daggers into Chuck's as he slides his hand off the door.

Chuck does his best to remain stoic, as he takes off with haste out of the door. Cas stands idle and pounds the frame faintly with anxious frustration. He whips out his cell, thumbing through his contacts for her. He clicks the call icon for her contact, bringing the phone to his ear. It rings four times before her voice picks up, “Hey-”

Cas says her name with an urgency, “Where are you?”

“Yeah, Cas, I’m sorry. I was just about to call or text, I’m home now. I was just starting to get a bit congested.” She sighs into the phone.

Cas breathes out an exhale of relief, “No, that’s…that’s perfectly fine. You showed up, didn’t you? All I asked for.”

“Yeah…yeah, I mean, it was fun. Your friend’s nice.”

“Yes, Dean is good company.” Cas nods into the phone, now reminded that he should go back to find him.

“Well, maybe we can meet up sometime this week after class? I feel bad for taking off early.” She amends.

He sighs, locating Dean by the kitchen still, holding his forearm out in confusion as he watches Cas walk back over to him, “That sounds great. Don’t feel bad, though. I’ll see you next week.”

She says a quick goodbye before Cas hangs up. Dean gives Cas a look, pressing him to explain, “What’s going on?”

“She, uh, had to go take care of something.” Cas frowns a bit.

“Oh, alright.” Dean seems to match Cas’ disappointment, adding. “She’s cute.”

Cas wears an amused grin, “You think she’s cute?”

Dean turns pink slightly, clearing his throat, “Well- I mean, ‘cute’ in like, a ‘college-girl’ kinda way. Like, a normal…way. Y’know, cute for a future-teacher-kinda-way…”

“I see.” Cas tries to contain his snigger.

A break of quiet between the boys breeds a bit of awkwardness before Dean pipes up “And you guys aren’t…benefiting or anything?”

Cas doesn’t hold back that time, a chuckle leaves his throat, “No, we aren’t. There’s no romantic inclination there either.” He thinks to himself for a moment. “I’ve grown rather protective over her, but I don’t view our relationship in that sense.”

Dean listens to Cas and brings the cup of punch to his lips. Mulling over his words, “Yeah, I gotcha.”

“That does entail that she’s single.”

Dean twists his face as he almost coughs the punch up, “Woah, man. I didn’t say anything about…”

Cas tilts his head, “I can tell you’re at least interested.”

Dean exhales, convincing himself that it’s nothing more than interest, “I mean, I hardly know her, Cas…”

“I can still tell when you’re interested in someone.” Cas remarks.

Dean crosses his arms defensively, scoffing at his friend, “Whatever, man.”

“I am talking women with you, Dean-”

“Yes, you certainly are.” He takes a sip of his drink.

“But I’m not talking…you-know-who. So, I find this acceptable.”

“Is this some kind of social experiment for your major?”

Still ignoring his protests, Cas continues, “And I figure, I know you both rather well and I find that you are fairly compatible. You share some interests, and conversations seem to flow well, and you both have a similar, dry humor. And given two bumpy roads for romantic connections-”

“I take offense to that.”

“I’m sure you both would enjoy each other’s humble company, having some experience in relationships in general. And if nothing becomes of it, and you hate her, then I’ll take an F for my grade.”

Dean snaps an excited finger to Cas, “It is a social experiment!”

Cas gives him a pointed look, “I just want the two of you, as individuals, to forget about the past.”

“I get it, Cas. I do, I really do. But, you don’t throw shattered glass together and hope the cracks are fixed.”

“No. In fact, it’s how you create mosaics.”

“Mosaics- the hell is that?” Dean blinks.

“A mosaic is made of small, fragmented glass or tile that creates a work of art when placed together."

“So, two broken halves make a whole, right?” Dean mockingly reiterates.

“Precisely.”

“We gotta get you away from Lifetime TV.”

Cas relents, shaking his head, “Just- don’t shut it down so fast. I know her, and… she could use someone like you, Dean. And, you could use someone like her. A lot of people could.”

Dean soaks in Cas’ words instead of joking again. He chews his lip for a moment, opening his mouth partially. Bringing the last of his drink to his mouth, he considers it. He really does.

A/N: Sorry if this is slow and dragged out slightly, im kind of just throwing this out to the wind- please let me know what you think!

25 notes · View notes

danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 7 months ago

Text

//So I'm not gonna go into a lengthy discussion about this, just kind of, as I said before, wanting to explain what's been going on.

//Rest assured I have been planning a bunch of stuff for the blog for Christmas and new years, hopefully which I'll announce soon. The reason why I've been so inactive lately boils down to four reasons:

//One: November is around the time where a lot of people I'm closed to have their Birthdays. I'm going out today to celebrate one, and I was out yesterday evening celebrating my cousins. It's also my sisters birthday in just under a week, so there's that too, and I need to prioritize family.

//Two: I am still sick. My symptoms have gone down, but I've been stuck with this ridiculous cough for half a month now, and it's annoying as all hell.

//Three: My hunting for a job has been largely unsuccessful, even now, so I'm still putting all my effort into that.

//And Four: Home life has just kind of taken a plummet. Lately, my parents have been at each others throats about some stuff, and I'm not even sure what it is, but this is probably one of the worst arguments I've seen them stuck in for years, ever since I was a kid.

//Let me make it clear that I hate talking about this shit, and that what's going on at my home doesn't concern anybody else, much less you guys, but I figured it was necessary to explain why I haven't been writing. To give you the short end of it, last night, things got to a really bad point that I decided I needed to move out of home for the night. So I spent last night at a friends house who lives around the corner.

//Things haven't been looking much better since then. I just needed to make sure my mood was in a good enough place to talk about it.

//So yeah, I'm sorry I've been absent and probably will continue to be absent for the next few days. I hope all of you can understand.

//Life is just...sooooooooooo bad right now for me.

-Mod

#mod

13 notes · View notes

therentyoupay · 9 months ago

Note

Hey kris! I’ve followed you for a long long time now and am so happy to see you doing your thing and active on tumblr rn. I was really really active a couple months ago and am now on here when time permits. Seeing you pop up on my dash again made me realize I don’t think you’ve ever changed your profile pic since like idk 2012 when I started following you. is there any significance behind the and symbol? I hope you’re enjoying the beginnings of fall ☺️☺️

HELLO, NONNY. 😭🙏💕💕 thank you so much for your lovely lovely message!!! i'm also so sorry that you sent this three days ago when i have actually been super absent from tumblr for the past week or so due to ✨life obligations✨🤣😭🤣!! you and i are in the same boat! super active on tumblr when we can be; otherwise.... we swing by, when life allows. 🤣

thank you so much for your question! you are correct!! 🤣 i started writing fic at age 11 on FFNET through another penname (bonus points if anyone here actually remembers what it used to be, 2001–2011 👀?) and it was a really big deal when i decided to ✨rebrand✨ after ten years! the rebrand to therentyoupay started in december 2011 (long story short: a reviewer left such a nice comment on my FFNET dramione story that it kickstarted me into actually continuing it! comments matter!!) and at the time, ampersands (&) were all the rage, and i was definitely one of the basic bitches obsessed with them. 🤣 (no millennial-"&" tattoo but i did consider it lmao. maybe I'll still get one, one day, so y'all can try to identify me in The Wild lmao.) therentyoupay is from one of my favorite quotes. 🥹🥹🥹💕💕 (does anyone know? 🤣)

so, that following summer in 2012, lok came out and i was lured into making a tumblr! unsurprisingly, my avatar/icon slid over from FFNET/ao3 into tumblr, as did my penname, and i will likely keep it for the rest of my life 🤣 therentyoupay/kris(which isn't my real name👀)/TRYP have now all been associated with this account and my fics for so long that it would cause great confusion and, quite probably, losses in the community i've built over the years!! so TRYP i shall remain forever 🤣

i also personally get so confused when long-term friends on tumblr change their icons and URLs... it's like i no longer recognize them! i have a spreadsheet with everyone's URLs over the years, their names, etc., so i can keep track... but i was also off tumblr for three years during the pandemic 😅😅😅 so i have lost track of a lot of people 🥹 that's why i always really appreciate when people leave a note in their profiles/pinned posts about their previous URLs and a name to call them by! (whether it's a fake name or not lol) otherwise i don't have a name for them–they're just their URL lol, and their "face" is just their icon. 🤣

and yes, i totally am!! 🍁🍂🍃🍁🍂🍃🍁🍂🍃 i'm feeling so lucky and so grateful for all the amazing things happening in my life right now 😭🙏 if only 2012!kris had any idea what was in store for her.... 🤣💕💕💕

LOVE YOU, NONNY. TAKE CARE AND HAVE AN AMAZING REST OF YOUR WEEK. 💕💕💕💕🙏🙏🙏🥹🥹🥹🥹💕💕💕 thank you so much for this beautiful ask!

#therentyoupay #therentyoupay lore #therentyoupay ask #therentyoupay anon

8 notes · View notes

thedupshadove · 11 months ago

Text

Oh...I hope you'll forgive me for jumping on your post with my own speculations but this concept has been eating my brain for nearly a full day now.

Getting the easy stuff out of the way, Hancock may be afforded more dignity in the movie than Henry is accustomed to, but given how much time he spends being overwhelmed by everyone else's shouting, venting his frustration with half-swallowed barbs, impotently swatting at bugs, and complaining about the weather, I would still say it works.

Potter can be Hopkins. Similar "Strident, crotchety old man" vibes.

BJ seems like the obvious Jefferson--playing his wit and feelings calmer and more subtly than those around him, being conspicuously tall, and pining for an absent wife. And we do have a visual reference for Peg (two, actually), though not a vocal one, so I think we can get away with continuing the parallel and casting her as Martha.

With Radar slotted in as Thompson, one feels that Klinger, the other prominent NCO in the cast, ought to be McNair, and on the one hand he'd be beautiful at it... but on the other hand, as a big personality with an abiding love of his place of origin, I also kind of want to cast him as Lee, and if we don't use him, I don't see another obvious candidate. If we save Klinger for Lee, Igor can probably be McNair instead, and if we use Klinger as McNair, Igor can be his unnamed assistant.

The Courier should be played by one of the patients who was featured more prominently--an intruder of sorts into this space, and someone closer to the ongoing war than any of our main characters. Arnold Chandler is probably the most famous "Patient of the Week" among the fandom today, and certainly that actor, assuming he could sing, had the perfect sort of melancholy charisma to carry "Mama, Look Sharp", but I'm still not married to it being him specifically.

I'm torn on what to do with Mulcahy (I'll be torn on most of these, from now on). He'd be a natural fit as Witherspoon--the apologetic, earnest, somewhat naive, but fully aligned with our heroes clergyman who is literally named as Congressional Chaplain as soon as he shows up. On the other hand, his unfortunate tendency to be cowed by authority maked him something of a fit for James Wilson, and I kind of want to put the main character who's actually from "foul, fetid, fuming, foggy, filthy Philadelphia" somewhere in the Pennsylvania delegation.

For the same reason, I kind of want Sidney as Lewis Morris, or possibly Robert Livingston? But other than coming from the same state (a rule we've already broken many times, unavoidable with how many m*a*s*h characters are from outside the original 13) he isn't very like either of them--we may be better served using him as Lyman Hall, the newcomer whose attention and allegiance everyone fights for, and who ultimately plays a key role in deciding the positive outcome when the hero is at his lowest point.

And speaking of the hero, I've put this off long enough--Adams, Adams, Adams. So much of the rest of casting will depend on who we slot in as Adams. If I were to go back to my desire to match up home states, then he ought to be Charles, but no, no, that simply doesn't work. Charles can certainly make himself "obnoxious and disliked", but when he does it, it's over things like his own personal comfort, or abject classism. The one who never met a soapbox he wouldn't jump on is Hawkeye. The main character, and the one constantly pushing and pushing on the idea that the status quo isn't good enough. Now, casting Hawkeye as Adams does leave us conspicuously without an Abigail...unless you're willing to let the Hawkeye/Margaret shippers carry the day, which would honestly kind of work.

But wait, Hawkeye actually has a lot in common with both Adams and Franklin, being both an unbendable ideal-driven speech-machine and a silver-tongued wisecracking lecher. And there would be a certain poetry in actually casting Benjamin Franklin (Pierce) as Benjamin Franklin. So...Hawkeye as Franklin and Margaret as Adams? There would certainly be a lot of resonance with the series in having her constantly described as "obnoxious and disliked", while pushing unendingly for what she believes to be the best possible outcome. The biggest problem I can see with this configuration is that Margaret-as-Adams, with Hawkeye already used up on playing Franklin, will really leave us with no one to play Abigail; the mind recoils at letting Frank do it, Donald isn't a much better option, ditto Scully, and other than those four, what romantically-interesting characters does she have? That one guest nurse she used to be Lieutenants with?

The villains are going to be just as tricky. Even the antagonist delegates in 1776 are imbued with a wit, dignity, and a courage of their own convictions that m*a*s*h didn't like to let its villains have. Charles, with his habit of lunge-and-riposte with the other swamp-rats and the emphasis placed on his old-money background, is a natural fit for Dickenson (Go on, picture David Ogden Stiers leading "Cool, Cool, Considerate Men". I'll wait.) but who can we cast as Rutledge? Frank was the other "Evil Swamp-Rat", but do we seriously think that Frank Burns has a performance of "Molasses to Rum" in him? If we go back to Hawkeye as Adams, and use Trapper as our Abigail (the absent lover, as Trapper arguably subtextually became after he went home and BJ entered the picture) then can Margaret be Rutledge? Maybe, but I'm not so sure--her style of confrontation was more blunt instrument than subtle irony. Besides, that would leave us without a Franklin again, and while Sidney could maybe be used there instead of as Dr. Hall, I don't know that he'd make a fantastic fit.

There is also the possibility of making Trapper Adams, and Hawkeye Franklin. But with Louise, we don't even know what she looks like, so using her as Abigail feels like a bigger stretch.

One bit from something I may draw in more fullness next year

at my post

#m*a*s*h #1776

14 notes · View notes

earth1to1wynter · 3 years ago

Text

non despair au rantaro amami hcs!!

【 cw ➵ tense parental relationship (mention) 【 word count ➵ 827 【 notes ➵ n/a

-rantaro knows, like, 12 different languages

-he's only actually fluent in 3 or 4. those would probably be english, japanese, korean, and spanish

-the rest he knows at a survival level. which is to say if he were dropped into the middle of an area where they only spoke one of those languages, he could get himself some food, get a hotel room, lose a sister, pick up a souvenir, and buy a plane ticket home

-he'll also just switch between languages randomly, especially in his head. he'll start a sentence in one language and go through two more before he finishes his thought

-this happens a lot in class, too

-rantaro will be giving a presentation or answering a question, and he'll switch to another language

-and he only realizes it when his peers start to giggle or when the teacher gently stops him and tells him he’s speaking in another language

-then he just awkwardly laughs and scratches his neck before continuing in his original language

-he loves tally hall (hidden in the sand, the bidding), the neighbourhood (cry baby, softcore, fallen star, reflections), jack stauber (choice, oh klahoma, buttercup), tame impala (lost in yesterday, let it happen, desire be desire go), and harry styles (as it was, kiwi)

-maybe i'll drop my rantaro playlist 👀

-a date to one of these concerts is a MUST

-he somehow always gets awesome tickets by pure chance. maybe the tickets were on discount, maybe he had some connections, or maybe he won them over the radio

-i don't think he's afraid to wear dresses or makeup.

-as shown in the game, he's pretty good at painting nails, so i think he'll wear a little makeup from time to time or vibe in a dress every couple weeks

-they might not be his prefered clothing item, but i think he'd wear one

-rantaro in the strawberry dress >>>

-he also draws from time to time! nothing too fancy, but he'll draw something interesting around him with a ballpoint pen while he waits for a train or something. rantaro's art is actually pretty good

-he has the vibes of someone who likes reading old and dusty books by candlelight or by a window

-i think he really enjoys historical fiction or fantasy books. preferably with a little romance and drama sprinkled in

-speaking of drama, he says he's a peace keeper, but he actually enjoys watch other people's drama unfold

-he also has a habit of accidentally flirting with almost everyone he talks to. rantaro doesn't even know he's flirting, it'll just kinda...happen

-his friends know that he doesn't mean it, but everyone else? nope.

-he's also so smooth. SO smooth and SO clever

-even without him accidentally flirting with people, he gets asked out or gets notes in his locker fairly often, and he feels so bad turning them down. he does his best to let them down slowly

-his relationship with his parents is...tense, to say the least. they still love him very much and they're not abusive or harmful in any way, things are just a little off after losing rantaro's sisters

-back to a lighter note, i think he really enjoys stargazing and can use the stars to guide him

-especially when he travels to other places, he loves seeing the contrasts and similarities between the sky where he is and the sky where his home is

-he probably plays the weirdest instruments

-definitely the guitar and ukulele, but he also probably plays like the dulcimer or something too

-rantaro's also pretty absent minded and spaces out often

-he kinda likes this quality, he thinks it makes him look all cool and mysterious

-his forgetfulness stems from being absent minded

-this makes it fairly difficult to concentrate in class. one minute he'll be listening to the lecture and the next he's neck deep in thought about his next trip

-to help combat this, rantaro has found that doodling on his paper every couple of minutes helps keep him focused

-luckily, his clever nature helps him get good grades, even if he was spacing out for the whole lesson

-he's also a little time blind, too

-rantaro could start a project, then BAM! it's been 6 hours and he hasn't eaten or drank anything

-funnily enough, this only happens when he's inside

-if he's outside, he'll be able to guess the time within 10 minutes of what it actually is

-he can also do this if there's a window open

-i think this a little obvious, but he loves being outside

-he out there reading or working or something for a good handful of hours

-has been known to sleep outside on his patio or dorm balcony for absolutely no reason

-his favorite place is the mountains

-rantaro loves being so high up and watching clouds form and move before his eyes

-and the trails are so pretty, too!

-all in all, a pretty cool guy

#rantaro amami #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #rantaro x reader #rantaro amami x reader #【dusty old books】#【headcannons】#【rantaro amami】

190 notes · View notes

im-in-love-with-pizza-bites · 3 years ago

Text

To Raise Children: Chapter 23

Chris Evans X Daughter!Reader, Grandpa!Chris Evans X Flynn and Felix Evans (OCs) Tom Holland X Single-Mom!Reader (Slow Burn)

Series Masterlist

OC List

Series Summary: It's been 4 years, your sons are starting kindergarten, you're starting junior year of college, a lot has changed.

Chapter Summary: You tell Chris about your relationship with Tom.

Series Warnings: Age gap (Reader is 20, Tom is 29), absent father, mentions teen pregnancy, mentions abortion, if you see anymore please let me know politely.

Chapter Warnings:

Sequel to "It Takes A village"

"Okay go set these under the tree." You says watching the boys carry the gifts for Chris.

"Okay!" They both leave the room and you sit down on your bed. You just finish wrapping the gifts they got Chris and you still had to wrap the rest of the gifts.

"Hey peanut." Chris peaks into your room since the twins left the door open.

"Hey dad need something?" You ask.

"No just wanted let you know that the boys gift gets here on Christmas eve." He whispers. "Your aunt Carly also invited us over to her house for Christmas Eve cause they're going to her In laws for Christmas. So have some guys coming to build the gift while we're at Carly's house. I'll probably be a little late. I already told her."

"Okay sounds good." You say. "Hey dad. I have something to tell you." You begin. You and Tom have been together for a little over a week. His brothers know so did his parents. Well they know he is dating someone, only Harry knows that it's you. Mostly cause he spent a month listening to Tom flirt with you on the phone. No in your family knows though.

"What's up?"

"I have a boyfriend." You say. Chris smiles.

"It's Tom isn't it?" He asks you nod. "Be careful okay? I don't want to see you hurt again."

"I know don't mention it to the twins please. We're moving slow and the boys are being kept out of it."

"That's a good plan."

"Yeah." You mumble.

"Hey. Stop overthinking okay?"

"Yeah."

———

"Does this mean spiderman is our dad?" Flynn whispers to his brother as they hide outside of your room, listening to you talk to Chris about your relationship with Tom.

"I don't know." Felix shrugs. "That would be so cool though!"

"Shh." Flynn says.

"If spiderman is our dad, and poppy was Captain America that means we're gonna be super heroes too!"

"Yeah! We can be like the avengers! Cause we're a team." Flynn grins Felix nods in agreement.

"We need costumes!" He says before the boys hurry to their room to make their costumes. Neither you or Chris noticed the boys standing there.

"We need masks like Spiderman." Flynn says as they both digged through their draws and toy boxes.

"Here's two!" Felix holds up two random masks from some old costumes they haven't worn in like two years..

"Not cool enough we need letters on 'em. Like how super man has an S on his costume." Flynn says.

"But how do we add the letter." Felix says confused.

"Crayon duh. I only know how to write my name what about you?"

"Same."

"They both can have F on it then." Flynn decides before he grabs a marker off of the bookshelf. Felix writes the letter before handing Felix one of the masks.

"We need capes!" Felix says digging through the closet. He pulls out their baby blankets. "Here!"

"Perfect." They tie the blankets around their necks before putting on the masks. "Let's go save the day."

The boys both grin as the run out of their room. They pass by Chris who just smiles not questioning their outfits. He tells them to slow down before continuing down the hall.

"What're you boys doing?" You asked smiling.

"We're super heroes!" Felix grins.

"We're like the avengers!"

"You're the cutest avengers I've ever seen." You chuckle ruffling their hair.

"Mommy! We're cool, not cute." Flynn frowns.

"I'm sorry you're the coolest avengers I've seen. Even cooler than your poppy but you can't tell him."

"We won't!" They agree.

"We have to go save the world now."

"Okay bye boys be safe." They smile before running off. "Careful don't run in the house." You warn.

———

"Hello darling." Tom says into the phone.

"Hey babe."

"What are you up to?" He asks.

"Cleaning the boys room. How was dinner with Paddy?"

"Good. He was telling me about a role he got he's going to Atlanta in just a few months for filming."

"Really that's great!"

"Yeah I'm really proud of him."

"Hey I told my dad about us."

"What did he say?" Tom asks nervously.

"He approves surprisingly."

"Hey parents love me." He argues.

"Yeah sure." You laugh.

Taglist: @fic-for-readers @denisemarieangelina @thevelvetseries @kaitieskidmore1 @ellerosie2332 @tahniemarie @runawayolives @marajillana @buckybarnez @positivelyholland @firehoseevan @coldmuffinpartycloud @beautifulrose0809 @believinghurts @laura-naruto-fan1998 @shadow-dixon @claaaaaaire-blog @mrs-brekker15 @h-j-s-03 @moniffazictress11 @buxkybarnez @ducks118 @kalopsia-flaneur @silverrmist @some-lovely-day @peterparkerbae @Olivia197810 @gengen64 @Bellagaseta20 @hollzo-03 @bubb1eana1ee @cmalas @jamie0515 @mpamphsss @bucketbarnes12 @lyraficrecs @hunni-bunny @lyrarodriguez @snigdha-14 @cedricdiggorysimpp

53 notes · View notes

eryiss · 4 years ago

Text

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Soulmates

Summary: THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM. A week-long experience guaranteed to find you your soulmate. Laxus had dismissed it as nothing but crap, and brought himself a ticket to prove it. It would have gone well, if it weren’t for the handsome guy running the program who kept catching his eye.

Notes: This was written as part of Fraxus Week 2021, as always hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. Check out their blog to see all the other content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM

Year: 2055

Location: Tokyo, Japan

"Laxus Dreyar," A robotically cheerful voice echoed through the room. "Please step into the preparation area."

Rising quickly, Laxus strode through the reception room and towards the door that had lit up. The animated emoticon projected onto the wall followed him as he walked, and the glass door shimmered out of existence as he approached. Once through the archway, the glass flickered back into place, and the emoticon went back to its unanimated state. So far, Laxus had yet to be impressed by THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM.

It claimed to be an experience that will end up matching an attendee with their soulmate. You paid your fee, gave up a week of your life, trusted in the system that it would work, and supposedly you'd end up meeting the love of your life. Laxus was only there to disprove it.

Well, also because Ever had paid for it, and he knew how much it costed. But mainly he went to disprove it.

So far, he'd undergone a full body scan, had his social media accounts interrogated, and submitted a completed questionnaire that covered everything from best first date ideas to how he dealt with the inevitability of death. This was apparently so the algorithm could create a profile for him, and was not reflective of how the program would be. According to the guidebook Laxus had absently flicked through, the morning of the first day was slightly tedious, so to better match him with potential lovers. It all seemed stupid – as far as Laxus was concerned, romance was born out of coincidence and chemistry, not a list of things you liked and didn't like – but he was willing to undergo it all just to prove how it was a waste of money.

Each day, he would go on an 'Experience' with a match. It was a simulation of a first date, purpose built to the two people's shared interests. Some people went on candle lit dinners, some people went into an escape room, some people were stranded in the middle of the ocean with only each other for company. Every experience was tailored to the participants.

At least it would be interesting.

Laxus walked down the corridor, following the neon arrows that pointed him to another shimmering glass door. The pretentious modernism of the building was obvious, and it showed off every ridiculous advancement in technology in the most frivolous ways. It couldn't be a more obvious money-making scheme if it tried.

As he walked through the door, he saw a man standing at a podium. His date, perhaps.

Well, if that was the case, they at least knew his type.

Tall, long legs with some obvious lean bulk to them. Well dressed, in clothing that clearly was trying to highlight his physique but not in an obvious way. His face, looking down at the tablet attached to the podium, was sharp and angular, with high cheek bones and a slightly jutting chin. A mole rested below one of his vibrant eyes, and a long main of flowing green hair hung down to his waist. He was hot and Laxus grinned; at least he would spend a bit of time with a sexy guy.

As Laxus approached, the man looked up with a polite smile. He didn't make a move towards him, as Laxus expected, and continued to tap on the tablet before him. The lights gained a bright blue and the small room illuminated itself.

"You must be mister Dreyar," The man said in lieu of a greeting.

"Yeah, nice to meet ya," Laxus nodded, stepping forward and offering the man a hand to shake. He took it; he had a good grip on him. "Guess you're my date for the evening."

"Ah, I'm afraid not," The man denied, and Laxus frowned a little. "I work here, I'll be overseeing your simulations throughout the week as part of a quality control test. You'll meet the man who you've been set up with in the simulation itself."

"Thought the system was supposed to be automated?" Laxus asked, retracting his hand, and taking a step back.

"It is. A few times a year someone is called to watch over, to make sure it's as streamlined as possible," The man looked back down to his tablet again and began typing, and a small bubbling of curiosity grew in Laxus. Nothing he'd act on, but the face of concentration on the man was an attractive one. "I'm surprised you weren't informed beforehand; I must admit. It's in the contract you signed that this could happen, but the company does like to warn people before things begin."

"It ain't a big deal," Laxus shrugged, looking around the small room. "I ain't really sure how this part of the process works, so maybe you could help. I didn't catch yer name, either."

"Freed Justine," The man introduced himself, smirking ever so slightly. "In a moment you'll walk through those doors," he motioned to the aforementioned doors, "and the simulation will begin. Your date will walk through another set of doors, and you'll meet then. We like to have dates meet for the first time mid-way through a simulation, as it feels more natural than meeting beforehand. Once you've spoken for a while, the activity of the simulation can begin."

"How do I know what the 'activity' is?"

"It's normally fairly obvious. If you were, for example, white water rafting, you'd be placed on a dock with a boat already attached to the rapids," Freed explained, looking up from the tablet again. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Laxus would have rather known what he was getting into before it happened, he felt like it would give him an advantage. He couldn't dwell on that, though, as the floor below him lit up. Pulses of light seemed to guide him to a corner of the room, where an odd glass cylinder stood. Clearly they were informing him that he was to get inside the cylinder and, after a nod from Freed, he did as he was instructed.

The cylinder closed as he stepped in, and a flicker of nervousness dwelled inside of him as the glass seemed to seal itself shut. He glanced towards Freed, who gave him a short smile, before a flash of light erupted from above. It only lasted a moment, and Laxus took a second to understand what had happened.

His clothing had changed. Where once he wore an outfit he saw as worthy for a date, he now wore a tee-shirt, shorts, and sneakers.

"The hell?" He murmured under his breath.

"That's the outfit that best fits what kind of date you'll be having," Freed explained as the glass unsealed and Laxus could step out. "Partly it's to better round out the simulation, but I think it's mainly so we don't get sued for property damage should your actual clothes get stained or damaged."

"How romantic," Laxus murmured, before looking down at himself. "Am I having a date in a gym or something?"

"Yes, actually. One of your shared interests is combat sports, so you'll be placed in a boxing arena," Freed said after looking towards the tablet. He thought for a moment, then frowned. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"Glad you did, I like being prepared," Laxus shrugged. "Boxing's hardly romantic, though."

"For the right person, it is," Freed retorted. The lights around the simulation door lit up green, and Freed smiled. "Speaking of the right person, the simulation is ready, so when you're ready please step through. I hope you enjoy your date."

"I'll certainly try," Laxus nodded. "And if I don't, I get to punch the guy."

Freed laughed, and Laxus approached the door and refocused his attention on his goal on disproving the systems worth. He knew that the guy in the simulation wouldn't be his soulmate. If the company was worth it's price, then they would have understood that Freed was a better match for him than some random guy who happened to like to box. Still, once this was over and he'd disproven their complete success claim, he might get Freed's number. It wouldn't be a waste of time.

---

"So he wasn't the love of your life, then?"

That was what greeted Laxus as he walked into the preparation area outside of the simulation. It had been a day since his first date, and Freed stood before his tablet again as if he'd been waiting for Laxus to approach. He probably had.

"Wouldn't be here if he was," Laxus shrugged. "You saw how it went. Hardly compatible."

"I suppose not."

The date itself wasn't awful, in fact it was pretty fun. As Freed had stated, he'd been taken into a simulation of an old-fashioned boxing gymnasium, where he'd met the guy. He wasn't bad looking, and in pretty damn good shape, but they hadn't been destined for a relationship and they both knew it. Though Laxus couldn't say it was time wasted, as they'd exchanged information and said they'd workout together at some point. Laxus had always found it hard to find a spotter who could match his weight, and the guy could certainly do that and more.

"The first dates don't typically be where people settle," Freed continued, tapping at his tablet, perhaps setting up the next simulation. "The first half of the week has a low success rate, honestly. I believe it's mainly collecting information to better inform the matches later in the week, so don't be disheartened."

"I wasn't," Laxus shrugged. "If I'm honest, I don't believe this is real."

"I thought as much," Freed chuckled. "Though you probably shouldn't have told a member of staff that. It might taint my view of you."

"What are you gonna do. Throw me into a simulated volcano?"

"I could," Freed grinned, and it was a pretty nice look on the man. "But the real danger is that you say it to a member of staff who's gone through the program and who met their partner through it. They can get somewhat defensive, and they'll do whatever they can to make you believe it will work, and they'll be rather annoying while doing so. It's something I know from experience."

"You ain't been through it?"

"No, I'm hardly in a rush to find someone," Freed shrugged a little. "I believe that these things will happen when they're meant to, so why force them? And yes, before you point it out, it's hypocritical of me to say that while working here."

"Never been tempted?" Laxus asked.

"Of course. I know you don't believe it but I've yet to see someone leave the program without meeting someone they eventually fell in love with."

Freed didn't seem like the kind of guy to say bullshit like that for no reason, and the honesty in his tone didn't feel as though he was parroting a line from a corporate memo, so maybe he did believe it. Admittedly Laxus hardly knew Freed, so he couldn't make too many judgments about his person, but the fact he seemed to believe that this could find him true love was a little intimidating. A pragmatist like Freed – that's what Laxus thought him to be, anyway – wouldn't say that if he didn't believe it.

A horrible thought suddenly hit Laxus. He might actually find someone who he might fall in love with. That was… worrying.

"You won't need to change clothes today, your date won't require it," Freed said, looking up from his tablet again.

"Good to know," Laxus nodded, trying to ignore the nervousness that was filling him. "You gonna tell me what I'm doing?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "For all we know, if I didn't tell you yesterday, the date might have been entirely different."

"Nah, I don't think so," Laxus chuckled, walking towards the podium Freed was standing behind and leaning on it. He grinned at the man, who looked up at him for a moment before averting his eyes. "Tell me, I'll complain about you to yer manager if you don't."

"What a horrible threat," Freed said sardonically, though he did look down at his tablet again. "It's a fairground with a circus performance at the end. And apparently your date is something of a gymnast, and so there's a high chance that he'll get on stage and perform for you."

"Is that gonna be impressive or is it gonna make me wanna claw my eyes out?" Laxus laughed.

"He's a professional athlete, so I suspect the former," Freed grinned a little.

They chatted for a few minutes more, and eventually the lights around the door lit up again and guided him towards his second date. Laxus pushed off from the podium he was still leaning on, ignoring the teasing comment that he should adjust his posture if he wanted to impress his future husband, and walked through the door and into the simulation of an outdoor fairground. As he crossed the threshold, he didn't notice how his nerves had disappeared completely.

---

"I'm startin' to think your program ain't as good as you're saying it is."

Laxus spoke as he walked into the preparation area, and Freed looked up with a small grin on his face as he approached. Laxus had the slightest falter in his step as he saw that Freed had his hair tied up in a high ponytail, rather than using the low band he'd had on the two previous days. Seriously, the simulation had matched him with two random men and not the beauty before him and yet still claimed to be the best matchmaking system in history. Ha.

His second date hadn't been bad, exactly. The guy was hot in his own way – and someone with a scene/punk interest would have been all over him – and he was entertaining the entire time. But he was a little too much for Laxus. Constantly wiggling eyebrows and euphemisms. Good for the right guy, but not for Laxus.

"We're still collecting data, every date is an improvement on the last," Freed waved off the complaint. "For example, you seemed to enjoy the games you were playing, so a bit of friendly competition is something you'll like in a relationship," Laxus had to admit, someone who could challenge him was a turn on, so the system had gotten that right about him. "That's certainly been taken into account for this date."

The way he'd said the last sentence, with a hint of amusement and restrained laughter, made Laxus nervous. He didn't push the topic, partially out of fear.

"We'll see how confident you are when the week's over and I've turned everyone down," Laxus shrugged.

"You're determined for this to fail for you, aren't you?" Freed asked with amusement, and Laxus didn't deny it, instead choosing to shrug. "Is that why you're here, do you see yourself as the man to take the system down and prove how much of a scam it is? Because we've had literally hundreds of people try that and we've yet to have an unsatisfied customer."

"How do I know they've not been silenced?" Laxus joked, grinning as he walked closer to Freed. "Or worse, you killed 'em, blended their bodies up and sold it as a health drink or something?"

"Because we're not in a poorly written young adult novel?" Freed chuckled. "We actually just burn the corpses, it's much less messy."

"Knew it," Laxus laughed. "You gonna tell me what you're gonna put me through today?"

"Absolutely not," Freed grinned. "And I won't move on that today. Because nothing is going to please me more than seeing your reaction to it."

"Why, it's not weird is it?" Laxus frowned, looking concerned now.

"It depends on your definition of weird, I suppose," Freed smirked, and if it weren't such an attractive expression on the man then Laxus might have taken issue with it. "I'll simply say, I expect it's weighted slightly more towards what your date will enjoy rather than what you're going to enjoy."

"Or you could just tell me what's gonna happen," Laxus prompted, and Freed shook his head.

"You'll require an outfit change."

Laxus sighed a little, apparently the topic was to be dropped. He walked to the glass pod in the corner of the room and allowed it to close behind him, and he turned to look at Freed in expectation. Freed pressed something on the tablet and the light flash of light filled the cylinder a moment later, the same chill running over him as his clothing was replaced.

When he saw his reflection, Laxus found himself more confused than anything. He was only wearing swimming trunks and a large life-preserver. He could swim fine, so didn't know what the hell the point of that thing was, and turned to Freed again in confusion.

Freed, who had apparently been looking at him, immediately turned away, and Laxus could see his cheeks redden.

Huh. Had Freed been checking him out.

"You really not gonna let me know why I need to wear this?" Laxus asked, stepping out of the pod, and lifting one side of the life-preserver. Freed looked back to him, pointedly looking only at his face, cheeks still covered with the slightest dusting of a blush. Laxus wanted to focus on that, and maybe flex his abs to see if he got a reaction, but instead spoke again in a jovial tone. "You know if I drown in a simulation, I'm gonna get a lawyer right?"

"I doubt that will happen," Freed said, seemingly forcing himself to shake off the blush. "It's just a precaution."

"You wanna tell me what it's a precaution against?" Laxus probed.

"No," Freed grinned again. The lights above the door lit up, and Freed's grin widened. "And it seems you'll be finding out now."

Laxus wanted to push the topic more and find out what he was going to endure, and he very nearly ignored the flashing green lights and did just that. He almost did, if it weren't for the fact that he also wanted to take off the life preserver and give Freed an unhindered view of his chest to see what happened, so he clearly wasn't in the right mind to be making decisions. He was trying to disprove love could be found in this place, flirting with the guy was hardly helping his argument.

As he had the previous two times, Freed wished him luck as he approached the door. Thie time, though, it was tinged with amusement, and Laxus felt a swell of anticipation as he walked through the door.

The simulation was… interesting. It took Laxus a moment to realise he recognised what he was seeing, and a further moment to remember what it was. When he was a kid, his grandfather had watched old reruns of a gameshow: Wipeout. It was a ridiculous set of obstacle courses, where idiot contestants tried to win money but usually ended up looking like assholes, falling into water after being hit by giant mechanisms covered in foam cladding. It was cheap entertainment where the contestants were there to be laughed at, and apparently Laxus was going to be enduring the damn thing.

He turned around quickly, watching as the doors flickered out of existence, Freed's smirk being the last thing he saw.

---

The moment Laxus walked into the preparation room, he was met with a bursting of laughter. He crossed his arms, watching as Freed tried and failed to retain his laughter. It took longer than it should have, and it was tempting to shake the bastard. He would deserve it if he was laughing at what Laxus thought he was laughing at.

"It ain't that funny."

"Oh it truly was."

Laxus grit his teeth. His third date had been the most interesting, that was for sure, but it had also been ridiculous. He'd been forced to go through three stupidly weird obstacle courses, competing against his date, who was a loud-mouthed idiot with stupidly pink hair.

Multiple times, he'd been pushed from the course and into the unnecessarily cold water. The loud cackling from his date seemed to be shot straight into his ears the moment he broke the surface of the water, and the man's amusement at Laxus failing seemed to double each time it happened. During the last round, when he'd been knocked down a slope of gushing water by a barrel of all things, Laxus had to stop himself from swimming over to the man and clocking him on the nose. He'd probably be kicked from the system, so he talked himself out of it and instead put his focus onto winning the game. He had, and the brat annoyingly wasn't bothered at all.

"He was fucking annoying," Laxus muttered as he walked closer to Freed. He leant against the podium again, closing his eyes in exasperation. "Good luck finding him a guy to match with."

"Actually he's on his fifth day here, and everyone other than you said they wanted to match with him," Freed informed him, looking over the tablet. He was being cagey in letting Laxus see the screen surely the next date wouldn't be as bad as the last. "So you're the outlier in the set. He's remarkably easy compared to you."

"Honestly, kinda offended by that," Laxus muttered.

Freed breathed out a laugh, before placing the tablet back onto the podium. Laxus didn't spare it a glance, and instead looked towards the clothes-changing pod to see if he would need a new outfit. Seemingly knowing that, the pod lit up and directed Laxus to enter. With a small sigh, he did.

Once inside, the flash went off and his clothes were replaced by the appropriate outfit. Thankfully, this time he'd been replaced by an actual normal outfit. A dinner suit, perfectly tailored for his body. It was entirely black and white and, while he definitely looked good in it, it wasn't exactly what he would have chosen for himself. He liked his clothes to have at least a splash of colour, and suits could have that in a tasteful way when done right.

"Before you ask, you'll be having dinner today," Freed informed him as he stepped out of the pod. "Fairly simple, but I think that's more than earned. Most people only have one peculiar simulation, you've had nothing but."

"Lucky me," Laxus murmured. "Wanna tell me about the guy?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "Though I should say, it's at this point in the program where the system starts to understand what you're looking for. So it's entirely possible that he might be the person you end up with."

"I doubt it," He rebuffed, glancing at his reflection in the pod.

"Just go in with an open mind, that's all I ask," Freed said, typing on the tablet again. "The gentleman you've been set up with supposedly has a ninety two percent match with the data on you we currently have. There's a good chance that this might go well if you let it."

"You know I wanna disprove this, right?" Laxus grinned. "I ain't gonna help you."

"Well, lets make a deal," Freed smirked. "If you go into your date with an open mind, I'll promise not to put this on YouTube."

Laxus went to ask what, but the lights lowered, and a projection appeared on one of the blank walls. Watching the video, Laxus felt his blood run cold and his body tense, and a glare was soon aimed at Freed for what he'd done. The grin, which could only be described as shit-eating, he got in return only went to further annoy him.

The video was of Laxus' previous date. All the instances of him falling off the course, and into the water, had been put into a montage, with ridiculously obnoxious circus music blaring behind it. Laxus looked like a damn asshole. When the footage slowed down, showing him getting punched in the face by a foam-covered fist, only to lose grip of the handholds and fall face first into a pool of mud, Laxus openly growled.

"Delete this."

"Absolutely not," Freed smirked. "You heard my terms. Give your date a chance and I'll make it disappear. If not, the whole world gets to see you looking like this."

"Yer an asshole, you know that?" Laxus asked, though he couldn't help fighting a grin.

"I do," Freed nodded, and Laxus barked out a laugh. "And your date is ready for you. Have fun."

Laxus waved a hand towards him, walking towards the door and adjusting his jacket as he did so. He supposed he would give this date a chance, just to avoid the humiliation of that stupid video being leaked onto the internet. If it went well, then he'd meet a guy he might be interested in. if it didn't go well, then he could spend the entirety of the next day planning some kind of revenge on Freed for forcing him to endure such a night. That would be fun.

---

The date had been… interesting. Freed was right, the guy had certainly been the closest to someone Laxus would consider getting into a long-term relationship with, and that had somewhat spooked him after the date had ended. He'd been completely certain that he wouldn't meet anyone even close to what he wanted, and hadn't allowed for any deviation from that mindset. Having that belief challenged was worrying.

The guy was smart, silver tongued, and pretty sexy. He wore a suit to perfection, knew all the right things to say, and was flirtatious by nature. Which was all good, and certainly wasn't a turn off, but it wasn't enough for Laxus. He was all too focused on flirting, and didn't show off the other facets of his personality, which Laxus had wanted.

But if he had done that, what then? What if he had a good sense of humour, or was passionate about random things and would happily speak of them for hours? Laxus liked men like that, and his date had been dangerously close to that.

What if he'd gotten Laxus to match with him? What would happen then?

Those thoughts were plaguing his mind as he walked into the preparation room. He hadn't prepared himself for actually meeting someone, certainly not someone he wanted to get serious with. Laxus didn't get serious with guys, he was more of a love them and leave them kind of guy. It was part of the reason he wanted to disprove this place; not everyone was looking to find a guy to settle down with, and Laxus saw himself as one of those people. But the entire selling point of THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM was that it matched people together in relationships that would last.

Who even was he when he was in a relationship? Would he be one of those people who obsessively cleaned their home to impress their partner? Would he have to constantly be thinking about dates and things to do? Would he have to buy the guy flowers? He didn't know how to do that shit. He didn't think he even wanted to do that shit.

"Laxus," Freed asked, cutting through Laxus' growing panic. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, fine," Laxus lied. He didn't say anything else.

Freed didn't push conversation, apparently noticing that Laxus wasn't in the mood for their conversations. Laxus walked to the small sofa that he'd previously ignored, sat down, and listened to the gentle tapping of Freed's fingers against the tablet. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out his thoughts.

He wasn't ready for the date this time, because if they were meant to get better each day, then the guy he'd be matched with next might one day become someone important to him. What if he fucked the date up and the guy didn't wanna match with him? What if the guy was perfect for him and he didn't feel anything? Maybe he'd spent years sleeping around, never being with the same guy for longer than a month, and it'd fucked him up somehow.

"If you'd like to enter the pod," Freed prompted, and Laxus looked up to see the clothing pod lit up.

Doing as he was told, he walked into the pod and waited for his clothes to change. After it happened, he felt that his pants had been replaced by something uncomfortably clingy, and he frowned a little. The frown turned to a grimace when he saw his reflection.

"The fuck?" He demanded.

He was dressed in all green, wearing tights and a slightly sparkling tunic. He looked fucking stupid; even more stupid that he had on the damn Wipeout video. He gaped at his own reflection, not entirely sure what to say. The whiplash from emotional turmoil to embarrassed confusion was overwhelming.

"The fuck!" He repeated.

"You'll apparently be performing as Peter Pan for your next date," Freed informed him, and something close to dread built inside of Laxus' stomach. What the fuck? What the fuck! How the fuck had anyone thought that was something he'd enjoy? Who could think he'd wanna be with someone who wanted him to… to perform on stage while looking like an asshole?

"I fucking am not." He snapped.

"The system states that you'll have a very high matching rate with her," Freed replied, before frowning. Laxus also turned to look at him. "You only wanted to be matched with men, didn't you?"

"That's right," Laxus nodded, voice low. It had set him up with a woman?

Freed looked down at his tablet, face scrunching slightly for a moment as he swiped and tapped at the glass, and Laxus tried not to enjoy the sight. He seemed to understand something, flicked on the screen a few more times, and the pod Laxus had left lit up again. Laxus frowned, looking towards it in confusion before turning his gaze back onto Freed.

"There was a blip in the system. Apparently your date and another man's date were mixed up. If you'd like to step into the pod again it'll give you your actual outfit."

Relief flooded through Laxus. There were certain things that he would have outright refused to do, and making an ass out of himself on a stage, dressed like a glorified pixie was certainly one of them. But the contract he had signed said he was obligated to undergo all simulations if he didn't find a match, as not doing so would harm the reputation of the company unfairly. Would Freed had forced him to do it if he hadn't noticed? Laxus hoped not, but he couldn't be sure.

The new outfit was a lot more simple. It was normal clothing, with a large winter coat and, he realised a moment before he tripped, his shoes had been replaced by ice-skates. He knew how to skate, so it wasn't a problem, and compared to what he'd nearly had to undergo, this was perfect.

"Would I have had to do the fucking performance if you didn't notice it?" He asked.

"I'm sure the system would have picked up the mistake before you went in," Freed dismissed, tapping on the tablet, and lighting the door to the simulation room. "You should go now. Don't want to keep him waiting."

Laxus glanced towards Freed, not commenting on how obvious Freed was being in his dismissal. He walked through the door to see an ice rink empty of everything but one man, who was skating towards him. As Laxus skated towards his date, all he could seem to think of was how much better this was than Peter-Fucking-Pan.

His previous nerves about the date were the last thing on his mind.

---

"So here's the thing," Laxus said as he walked into the prep room. "I think you lied to me yesterday."

"Lied about what?" Freed asked.

"This is supposed to be the most successful, most advanced matchmaking system in the whole world, right? It's unmatched and has years of coding and advancements in technology inside of it, right?" He asked, and Freed nodded. "So it kinda seems a little bit bullshit that it wouldn't understand that a guy who's gay would only wanna go on a date with other guys. Feels like that's one of the basic things it should get right?"

"That would be a fair assumption."

"So, if that's right, then it seems unlikely that it'd just happen to me. Seems even weirder that it'd happen conveniently when there's a guy watching over the sessions to pick up the mistake," Laxus walked towards Freed, maintaining eye contact. "All seems coincidental."

"I suppose it does."

"Yeah, it does," Laxus nodded. "So why don't you admit that you're the reason it happened."

"If you already know, what would me admitting to it do?"

Laxus laughed. He didn't know what he had been expecting when he decided to confront Freed with his realisation, which had happened half way through the date with the guy, but he hadn't thought he'd get an honest admission without a moment's guilt.

He wasn't angry about what Freed had done. If he'd gone on the date wearing the costume then he'd certainly be pissed off, but in reality he'd only worn the stupid clothes for a minute or two, and Freed had quickly replaced them with what he was actually meant to wear. In reality it was just a weird thing that Freed had decided to do for a reason Laxus didn't quite understand.

"You really just wanted me to look like a jackass?"

"No, that was coincidental," Freed admitted. "A happy coincidence, mind you, but not the reason I did it. You clearly had gotten overwhelmed by the possibility that the system might actually work, and you were getting in your own head about it. You needed to be shocked out of your own self-doubts, and it was the easiest way to do it. A simple ice-skating date is hardly a challenge when you've just avoided something ridiculous that you'd never enjoy."

Oh, that was actually kinda nice. Weird, but nice. Not what he expected. It was almost flattering, in a way, that Freed had chosen to help him at all.

Of course he couldn't actually say that. He'd entered the room with a build-up of energy, having expected he would need to force the truth out of him by repeatedly asking him. He had been so certain that it would take their entire time together, and it would end with Freed laughing and Laxus trying to salvage his own pride back. He'd half thought that his costumed self would be edited into the fucking Wipeout video to further add to his embarrassment. A kind, if not slightly odd, action was hardly what he expected.

"So, is it actually automated?" He asked, instead of voicing his thanks because it was the only thing he could think of saying. "Or have you just been saying it is while doing everything yourself."

"No, it's automated, but I can override anything should I want to, which is what I did."

"Show me," Laxus demanded.

Freed nodded, moving slightly so Laxus could stand beside him in front of the tablet. Laxus stood behind him, trying to ignore the fact that this was the closest he'd been to Freed, and he could almost feel the heat radiating off him. It was hardly an appropriate thing to think, particularly when he was going to be on a date with another man damn soon.

He focused on the interface. He saw a quick flash of what his date would be – another meal with a guy – before Freed overrode the system. He pressed a few buttons and ended up controlling the clothing pod. He loaded the program up, and was given a large interface of different outfits, all with pictures to show what they'd look like.

"It's surprisingly user friendly," Freed said, pressing a random outfit and loading it into the system. "Now if you went inside, you'd be wearing that."

"So even I could do it, then?" Laxus asked with a grin, and Freed faltered beside him.

"I suppose."

"What you did for me was pretty nice of ya, but I still ended up like an idiot in a costume because you made me wear it," Laxus mused aloud, and Freed audibly sighed beside him. "So if you think you're getting away without me turning the tables on ya, you're an idiot."

"I probably should have expected that," Freed murmured to himself, and Laxus laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder, and gently guiding him towards the pod. Freed didn't fight him.

"You should have," Laxus agreed, pushing him into the pod before Freed could second guess anything.

He stood at the tablet a moment later, knowing Freed was watching him. He swiped down the hundreds of outfits before inspiration struck him. He pressed the button for the search bar, typed in his idea, looked over the ten or so options before picking the one that looked the most ridiculous. He added it into the system, pressed the apply button, and grinned as the pod flashed with light. A moment later, Freed was revealed, and Laxus burst into laughter.

Freed looked ridiculous. Dressed entirely in an old-fashioned jester's outfit, purple and yellow, with a stupid hat covered in golden bells. He looked at himself in the mirror, crossing his arms unimpressed as Laxus guffawed at him.

"Holy shit," Laxus cackled. "What kinda date would need you to be dressed like that?"

"The system needs to cover all bases," Freed grunted, expression showing annoyance, but Laxus felt like a smile wanted to break through when the bells on his hat jingled. "Can I have my own clothes back, please?"

"We've got a couple minutes before the sim starts, that's enough time to have fun," Laxus grinned, scrolling through the recommended costumes. He found one, applied it to the pod and activated it.

A moment later, Freed was dressed as a circus clown, and Laxus spluttered into laughter all over again.

"Very mature," Freed mumbled sarcastically, though his words were slightly nasally because of the large red nose he wore. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"I am," Laxus grinned, holding back sniggers as he took in Freed for a moment before he began scrolling again.

This was an opportunity that he couldn't waste, and he'd get the man in as many stupid costumes he could before the date began. He quickly settled on a vampire costume that looked equal parts cheap and ridiculous. Once he applied it, he was slightly disappointed to see that Freed managed to pull it off with startlingly good looks. It was twenty-fifty-five, nobody should be able to look good while wearing a cape.

"The fact you're not complaining about this kind of takes the fun out of it," Laxus teased. "You like dressing up or something?"

"Not particularly, but I'd rather you be doing this than stressing about your date," Freed shrugged, seemingly all too comfortable dressed like a vampire. "Night six has the highest success rate. I thought you'd be panicking, this is better."

Laxus paused for a moment, but didn't say anything. He instead found another costume, and grinned when he saw how little it suited Freed. A clean-cut man like Freed didn't make a good caveman.

He fiddled with the tablet for a little while longer, flicking between costumes. Freed managed to make them look better than he had any right to do, but some of them looked ridiculous and Laxus decided to enjoy those as much as he could. A small timer at the bottom of the screen told him the simulation would be ready within the minute, and in a scramble to further annoy Freed, Laxus quickly picked a random outfit from the selection of superhero costumes. He had applied it before the lights to the simulation lit up, and smirked.

The smirk fell when he looked towards Freed. He'd expected it to be a cheap thing covered in cushioned muscles. The reality was… snug. Too snug for Laxus sanity, truly. He'd expected that Freed was hot as well as handsome, but having it clarified wasn't helping things. The guy was muscular, had a tight body, and biceps that strained against the fabric. Laxus pointedly didn't look down. That would be too much.

And he managed to pull off a bright red cape too. How? Capes were stupid. Not hot.

"You've had your fun," Freed said, and Laxus found solace in looking at his face rather than his very, very visible body. "May I have my own clothes back before you start your date?"

"Why?" Laxus asked as he stepped away from the podium. "Can't you do it yourself while I'm in there?"

"No, I can't," Freed muttered, and Laxus grinned.

"That kinda sounds like a you problem," He smirked, and Freed's face darkened for a moment as he stepped out of the pod. His cape billowed behind him and Laxus smirked. He patted the man on the shoulder. "I don't wanna leave my date waiting, after all," Without any reason to, he actually winked at Freed. "Enjoy your walk home, Superman."

As he entered the sim, he was fairly certain those few seconds of seeing Freed blushing unabashedly would be better than any date the system had in store for him.

---

"Is there something wrong with me?"

The high of messing with Freed hadn't lasted throughout the date, and the feelings had been replaced with a maudlin sense of nothingness. That was a feeling Laxus couldn't seem to get rid of throughout the day, and had persisted as he walked into the preparation room for the last time.

On paper, his date was his perfect man. He was intelligent and suave, well lived and happy to talk about his passions. He was hot, had the long hair that Laxus had always favoured on men, and had been pretty good company. He knew the guy was into him, and he felt like he should have reciprocated the attraction. This man should have been ideal for him, and yet Laxus had felt like he was going through the motions. It made him wonder, if that man wasn't right for him, then who the hell would be?

"What makes you say that?" Freed asked, who had been hunched over his table, furiously tapping at it before he'd entered.

"You said most people match with their sixth date. The guy was nice, good looking, we had interests in common," Laxus muttered. "Didn't feel anything for him."

"That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

"Maybe," Laxus didn't believe it.

He'd wanted to be the person who ruined THE S0U1MATES SYSTEM'S reputation. He'd wanted to be the person who proved that soulmates were pointless because they didn't exist, and even if they did, a computer program wouldn't be the way to find them. He just hadn't realised that, if he did prove that to be true, it would feel like a punch to the gut.

The system had a complete success rate! Everyone who had ever been involved found love. It was fact. Laxus was apparently going to be the exception to that. He was the first unlovable person to enter the program, and he would be the idiot who couldn't get a boyfriend no matter what.

It was shit. It was just fucking shit.

"Laxus, they're just dates," Freed said softly, placing a hand on Laxus shoulder in a comforting gesture. It felt like fire against him. "We dress them up with fancy technology, and we can explain the science in a way that makes it sound impressive, but a date is just a date. When you get two people together, they can fall in love within a moment, but they could also hate one another. That can happen to anyone, no matter what the statistics say."

"The statistics ain't got it wrong with anyone else."

"And you don't know that they have with you. People wait for the seventh night, and it works out for them," Freed assured him, the hand now gently massaging him. It was electric, and Laxus could almost allow himself to be thrilled by it. "And even if the man isn't the person you end up with, you'll find someone at some point. Don't put this on some kind of pedestal, all you'll be doing is meeting a man for the first time."

"The guy's meant to be my soulmate," Laxus scoffed. "It ain't exactly like meeting for coffee."

"It is what you make it, Laxus," Freed placated him. "Not matching with him isn't a failure of personality. It's just a thing that has happened, and it doesn't shape you."

"I guess," Laxus muttered, not exactly confident in his own words.

"You will find someone Laxus," Freed said firmly. "You're fun, intelligent, confident, good looking. A man is out there, and he will find you. Just give him time."

Freed didn't say anything else, and instead patted Laxus on the shoulder and returned to his tablet to do whatever it was he did. Laxus looked down at the floor, his nerves and self-pity only slightly at bay as he tried to agree with what Freed had said. He had come into the program wanting to prove that it was false, and he should have known this would be the outcome.

Focusing on his own problems, he didn't notice the slight change in posture from Freed. His eyes had widened, and he was tapping somewhat manically at the tablet. His teeth were gritting together and his heart hammering. A moment later, he stood up, and Laxus frowned when he saw how tense he looked.

"Don't overreact to this," Freed demanded, voice too calm. "This is a glitch, nothing else. The system has flaws, this is apparently one of them."

"What?"

He took a moment before speaking again. "Apparently you haven't been matched with someone tonight," Freed spoke quietly, almost under his breath, and Laxus felt as though he had been shot. Freed was quick to speak before Laxus could spiral. "This is the program not being able to work as intended. It is not a reflection of you. Do you understand me?"

"Fucks sake," Laxus growled, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"It's not you, Laxus," Freed tried to tell him, but Laxus was walking towards the door. He needed to leave, to get out of this damn place as quickly as he could. Why the hell had he gone there? He was an idiot. He shouldn't have gone. "Wait. Laxus, don't leave."

"Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"Because I don't want you to," Freed said quickly. "I don't want you to feel like you're… whatever it is your feeling. Because whatever it is, whatever you're telling yourself, is false."

"How the hell do you know?"

"I've watched every date of yours, Laxus. I know you, and you are a good man, and anyone would be happy to have you," He insisted, stepping towards Laxus, and placing a hand on his forearm. "If I'm honest, I found myself somewhat jealous that those men got to be with you. I'm sure I could find hundreds of men who would feel exactly the same. Truth be told, I had to stop watching you talking with that little blonde ass last night. It's unprofessional, I know, but it must be said. You are a man who, one day, will be adored and you will deserve it."

Laxus scoffed. "Sure."

"You're incredible, Laxus," Freed stepped closer, placing a hand on Laxus' cheek. Laxus blushed at the action despite himself. "And if this program has made you think otherwise, even for a moment, then it is pointless. Do you understand me?"

"You think I'm incredible?" Laxus asked, voice a little raspy as he looked down at Freed.

"I do."

"Then do something about it," Laxus whispered because he needed Freed to do this.

And he did.

Freed leant forward without hesitation, tilting up his head and slowly, cautiously pushed his lips against Laxus'. His hand remained on Laxus' cheek, and slowly he started to move his lips in tandem with Laxus', opening his mouth slightly as he pushed himself up against him. Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's waist, and felt himself clinging to the man as if he were a lifeline.

The kiss could only last a moment, and when Laxus pulled away and was met with the slightly flushed, kiss swollen expression of Freed in his arms, all of his doubts seemed to flow away. This was more important.

"Damn," He whispered, and Freed breathed out a laugh.

"Yes," He agreed. "Damn."

"Wanted to do that from when I first saw ya," Laxus admitted.

"And I you," Freed confessed, smiling. "I must admit, watching you with those men became somewhat torturous by the end."

"Would've stopped if you told me," Laxus shrugged.

"Then you might not have come back, and I didn't want that any more than I wanted to see you match with someone," Freed chuckled.

They stayed in their embrace for a moment, Laxus gently stroking Freed's lower back with his fingers in a slow and comforting gesture. Freed was still cupping his cheek, and it was a delightful sensation that Laxus didn't want to break. He would have to at some point, and he found himself at a loss of what to do next. For a moment he considered asking Freed to set up some kind of simulation for them both, but he felt he'd had enough of the damn place for now.

"You wanna maybe go somewhere and get something to eat?" He asked, and Freed pulled back slightly with a smile.

"That'd be nice," Freed agreed, though then smirked. "Though are you sure it's not too boring? Wouldn't you rather ice skating? Or maybe a boxing match? Or an obstacle course that you keep failing at?"

"Don't be a dick," Laxus laughed, pulling himself off of Freed. "Or I'll drag you back to the pod and you'll have to go to dinner dressed as batman. Dunno how happy a restaurant is gonna be with the Dark Night's cape falling in the soup."

"I'd rather avoid that. My roommate already thinks me odd after what you did yesterday, I don't need anyone else agreeing with him," Freed laughed, and Laxus grinned at the confession. He wrapped an arm around Freed's waist as they began to leave the room. "Though, if I could get you in the Peter Pan costume again I couldn't complain. Those tights were rather flattering."

"Didn't realise you were lookin'," Laxus smirked.

"I was more subtle than you were, then," Freed grinned, and Laxus laughed.

As they left the room, the simulation unused, neither man noticed the screen of the table lighting up with an updated message.

Laxus Dreyar.

Profile = Matched.

Soulmate Level = 100%

#Fraxus Week #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #One Shot #Future AU #Soulmate AU #Wordcount 8.5k

18 notes · View notes

flowercrown-bucky · 5 years ago

Text

The Secrets We Hide

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Loki has a secret. A big secret. When Thor needs his help finding Odin, his secret may be exposed.

Authors’ Note: My very favourite reader of my Loki series, Lavender Blue, asked for some more Thor, and whilst thinking about it I got a little carried away

Also Y/N has a last name in this that might make sense if you get to the end oop

If you’re waiting for the next part of Lavender Blue I fucking SUCK at writing smut someone help me-

"Where are we going, brother?" Thor looked curiously at Loki.

He'd been to Britain a handful of times in his life.

The very first had been sometime during what would later become colloquially know as the dark ages, in the early sixth century, he was inclined to believe. Earth, he had found, was wholly unremarkable, if England was anything to go by.

It was on this occasion that he had learned of his brother's magical talents, travelling on horseback through the countryside. He'd stumbled onto a (Remarkably small, he noticed) kingdom, ruled over by a gentleman by the name of Arthur. The real shock, however, had come to him upon entering the banquet hall in his host's castle, only to find his younger brother - who was, needless to say, not pleased to see him - sat next to his host. The lengths he'd gone to disguise himself were commendable, and the beard he'd magicked up was impressive, but there was no mistaking the mischievous twinkle in the eyes of Loki of Asgard.

However, the England Thor found himself in now was a far cry from the country of his memory. Winchester, he had been informed, was where the bifrost had brought them, but the cobbled streets he was walking on were about as unfamiliar to him as unicorn land.

Loki, however, definitely knew where he was. He had clearly been here many times before.

He'd replied to his brother's questioning with a disparaging look, continuing to walk on. All Thor knew about where they were going is that it had something to do with where Loki had placed their father three years ago. As for his personal theories? His mind was drawing a blank.

Eventually, Loki came to a stop in front of a single house within a terrace. A tall, unremarkable house, by all means, built with honey-coloured sandstone, the paint on the windows flaking with age, several panes baring the circular marks of a pontil. Three tall steps led to the front door, and the view of the living room through large window next to it allowing some insight as to the nature of its inhabitant.

Through the hazy glass, Thor could see a remarkably cluttered, disorganised room. A large leather armchair sat in the corner of the room, worn from use and decorated by a patchwork quilt. A similar rug lay on the wooden floor, a tapestry of fabric scraps. Opposite the TV was a grey cord sofa, upon which a number of odd and brightly coloured socks were strewn.

It was fairly safe to assume, Thor reckoned, that the inhabitant of this house - who was currently upstairs, based on the light coming through the window - was not his father.

So what the hell were they doing here?

Loki's three short raps of the knocker elicited a response from the house's inhabitant. They could hear them scurrying down the stairs and towards the door, and fumbling with the lock before opening it.

The woman on the other side was not what he was expecting.

The arrival of your visitors had come as somewhat of a shock to you, that much was apparent from your face. The second thing Thor noticed, was that you clearly knew Loki.

Your hair, slightly damp from the shower, was pulled up on top of your head, secured by a scrunchie, the deep green shade of which complimented your eyes. You were dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a red woollen jumper, your feet bare save for a silver ring around the second toe on your left foot and chipped nail polish on your toenails.

The third thing Thor noticed about you, was that you were very pretty.

"Father?" His voice came out as a squeak.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his brother laughing.

"Your father I most certainly am not." Your right eyebrow quirked bemusedly, crossing your arms. "But this is a surprise."

"Sorry, I must've forgotten to mention it." Loki grinned at you. "Can we come in?"

You stepped aside, beckoning the brothers through the door and into your home. You shot Loki a pointed look as he entered, prompting him to roll his eyes and, begrudgingly, remove his shoes and place them neatly by the door. In the interest of remaining polite, Thor followed suit.

"I take it this is not a social visit?" You asked, leading them into your kitchen.

The kitchen, Thor noticed, was nice. Homely. Small, but still, homely. The stone floor was cool under his socked feet, although his left being slightly warmer than the right led him to suspect your floor was central-heated, and the aga opposite him would probably heat the entire house. The beams supporting the ceiling were low enough that he'd hit his head twice, although he had noticed Loki had ducked, his posture automatically slouched so as to avoid collision.

Loki had clearly spent a lot of time in this house, in this kitchen.

You hopped up onto the counter, crossing your legs at the knee.

"Perceptive as ever, I see." Loki chuckled. "Although, my manners seem to have momentarily lost me. Y/N, this is my brother, Thor. Thor, this is Y/N Hudson. She's.... She's a friend of mine."

Thor did not miss the curious glance you shot at his brother.

"As delighted as I am to see you, Loki," You rolled your eyes. "What do you want?"

"It would seem that my dear brother has managed to lose our father." Thor glared at the dark haired man.

"I would dearly love to know how exactly one goes about losing one's father." Your lips quirked into an amused smile.

"And you're the only living being on this dull little planet who's capable of finding him." Loki ignored your attempt at riling him, catching your gaze.

"I don't understand." Thor furrowed his brow. "What are you, a witch? Do you have some sort of tracking abilities?"

"No, she's just very intelligent." Loki corrected. "Would you give Y/N and I a moment alone, brother mine?"

Thor nodded gruffly, watching you hop off the counter and walk out of the kitchen, into the room he'd first seen through the window.

He did not miss how his brother bit his lip as he looked you up and down.

Your front room was Loki's favourite place on Midgard.

It might even be his favourite place in the nine realms.

It had quickly become his bolt-hole, his safe place. It was the first place he'd ever been shown true kindness, where you'd brought him after you found him in a back alley, dying and alone. It was where you'd laid him on the sofa, where he'd been tucked under a blanket for the first time, where he'd drunk his first ever cup of midgardian tea. It was where you'd allowed him, a complete stranger, to rest and heal.

It was where he'd returned to pester this annoying, intriguing little human being, a process within which he discovered you were possibly less annoying and entirely more intriguing than he'd initially assumed.

He trailed his fingers across the back of your sofa absent mindedly, staring at the rings on your coffee table. You had a habit of leaving half-drunk, cold cups of coffee on this table - hence, the rings - something that irked him to no end.

The long hairs on the cushion caught his eye, and he wondered where the furry little beast might be hiding. Your cat, Kenneth, did not like Loki, a sentiment he wholeheartedly reciprocated. If you weren't so fond of it, he would more than happily fling the little monster into some unreachable pocket of a distant dimension.

His eyes reached where you'd perched on the arm of your armchair, one leg stretched out in front of you. He allowed his gaze to lazily climb the length of your body, taking all of you in.

Gods, did he love your legs.

"I've missed you, darling." He grinned up at you.

"I've not seen you for two weeks, Loki." Your voice was slow, deliberate. "And you come to me now, because you need me?"

He bit his lip, you had him there. He never was quite sure how to gauge your emotions, never sure how you’d react. Everything you did was carefully considered.

Even after all this time with you, you were still something of an enigma to him. It was one of the things that had initially drawn him to you, one of the things that he loved about you.

"On the contrary, my sweet." His voice had dropped, so much so that he was almost purring. "I always need you."

"Don't you try to charm me, silvertongue." You raised one finger in front of you, pointing it at him; a warning.

"Is it working?" He raised one eyebrow at you as he spoke.

"I'll let you know." You grumbled.

A soft chuckle left his lips, crossing the distance between you in two strides, dropping to his knees before your outstretched legs. He glanced up at you inquisitively, a massive grin stretching across his face at your nod of confirmation.

Gently, he lifted his hands up so his fingertips pressed at your stomach, at the little gap of skin between the bottom of your jumper and the waistband of your jeans. His fingers slid gently under your jumper, taking the woolen garment with it until his palms were flat against your stomach.

"Hey, little one." He cooed. "I can't believe how tiny you are. I can barely see you."

You laughed quietly, bringing your hand down to rest on top of his much larger one. He kissed the soft skin of your slightly swollen belly, and the intimacy of the small gesture made your heart swell with love and affection for both him and the child growing inside you.

"I wonder if they'll be blue." You mused, running your fingers through the ends of his hair.

"Why, in the name of all things unholy," He looked up from his ministrations. "Would it be blue?"

"Because, you're, well, you know..." You waved your hands expressively. "Nevermind. I had a scan a few days ago, do you want to see?"

You fished in your back pocket, pulling out a small folded piece of paper.

Desperation was not something Thor was used to.

However, in that moment, it was exactly what he as feeling.

He'd crossed his legs, he'd shifted his weight from leg to leg uncomfortably. But however hard he tried, he just could not shift the feeling. He needed to go to the toilet, and he needed to go to the toilet badly.

As the age-old saying went, when you gotta go, you gotta go.

He'd uncomfortably wandered towards where he'd seen you and his brother wander off to.

What he was not expecting to see, was Loki knelt between your legs.

His hands flew up to his face, shielding his view. He'd seen this before, and it scarred him for life.

What even had he seen?

His brother, kneeling between the legs of a mortal woman. Your jeans, he noted, were entirely done up.

Loki was kissing your stomach, caressing it, a dark piece of paper clutched in his other hand.

"Your daddy loves you so, so much," His brother had whispered to your stomach. "But don't give your mummy too much grief, ok?"

Words escaped Thor.

This woman Loki had brought him to, was pregnant. With Loki's child.

He cleared his throat, startling both you and his brother. Loki scrambled to his feet, anxious about being caught in such an intimate moment with you.

"I needed the toilet." Thor's voice came out in a much higher pitch than his intention.

"On your left." Loki's voice was barely a croak, his voice hoarse.

"I'm okay," His voice came out in a more nervous way than he was expecting. "Congratulations are in order, I think?"

"Yes." Loki's voice was gruff, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Thank you, brother."

"Thank you, Thor." You smiled warmly at the god.

"Anyway," Loki was evidently in a hurry to change the subject. "Do you know where the Allfather is?"

"He's in Norway. That's all I know. He's hidden himself well." You rubbed your chin thoughtfully. "But I do know a man who might be able to tell you more."

Loki's lips curled into a satisfied grin.

Thor's state of confusion remained long after they left your house. He was, as the mortals would say, totally gobsmacked.

Unable to provide the location of Odin, you'd handed Loki a neatly folded piece of paper. As far as Thor knew, his brother had not yet opened it.

Loki had kissed you passionately before he left, an uncharacteristic display of affection and one that made Thor deeply uncomfortable. He'd cleared his throat in a pitiful attempt to stifle a laugh, met only by his brother's middle finger in his face.

Rude.

He glanced at his brother as they walked. He'd not said a word since they’d left, but his hair was mussed from your fingers and his cheeks flushed from your embrace.

“I’m shocked.” He mused. “A woman - an attractive woman - likes you.”

“Harsh.” Loki frowned. “And she didn’t, at first. Like me, that is.”

“Smart woman.” He chuckled, eliciting a punch from the taller of the two.

In his many, many years of existence, he would never have guessed that Loki would be the first of the two of them to become a dad. He never would’ve even imagined his brother as a father in his wildest dreams.

In all honesty, he had never imagined a woman taking Loki as her lover.

He shuddered at the mental image. Yeugh.

“Congratulations, I guess.” A sudden fondness overwhelmed him. “Dad.”

“They are everything to me.” Loki’s voice was clear, concise in a way he had never before heard from his mischievous brother - he was, after all, the God of Lies. “I would gladly give my life to save theirs. I’d give yours, for that matter.”

“Your sentiment is touching.” He grunted. “Anyway, where are we even going, brother?”

He turned to his suit-clad little brother, watching him withdraw the piece of folded paper from his pocket. He unfolded it carefully, revealing your delicate, printed writing.

S. Holmes

221B, Baker Street, London.

#loki x you #loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson smut #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston x reader #loz writes loki

296 notes · View notes

iplaymatchmaker · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there, me again, if I read the rules correctlyyou said we could do a separate ask for a separate game. If I read incorrectlyplease just ignore this, if not if my first ask wasn't to much I'd love to ask for an ikerev matchup as well! I'm bi, female (she/her) sagittarius sun, virgo rising, libra moon, ENFT. I'm 5'2, chubby/curvy w/ great boobs, I have longer brunette hair w/ peekaboo highlights (they've been every color, but currently pink), brown eyes, glasses/contacts, 7 piercings & 26 tattoos. I'm very empathetic (sometimes to a fault) and have sever anxiety and depression. It takes me awhile to warm up around new people and be myself. I often feel intimidated in big social settings, such as parties, and often use alcohol for some liquid courage to help me let loose and be me in those situations. I've suffered some emotional and mental abuse at the hands of a step parent which has left me with some trauma and triggers; people raising their voice at me or making quick movements toward me or in my direction usually result in me crying and secluding myself for awhile. Oh and I have daddy issues, thanks absent father. That said I also don't do great with authority, I hate being told what to do, and I hate being told no. I can put up with a lot of shit, but eventually it usually becomes a 'straw that broke the camels back' situation and I fly off the handle and then break down. I am also extremely generous and do all I can to help my friends and family when they need it. I have some self confidence issues from weight gain, and I usually feel my best when I'm dolled up with my makeup on and hair done, usually with a dress and heels. I'm a Ravenclaw thats hates to read, but I love learning & know tons of trivia; like I know so many random facts about so many things from history, to movies, to graveyards, and much more. I often correct people on things, which some perceive as me belittling them, but its never my intention I'm just trying to share my knowledge and trying to help them. I am very creative I love crafting; resin art, macrame, cross stich, those are just some of my favorite things to do art wise, I also enjoy coloring books. I love to laugh and think I'm pretty funny, I usually have a dark sense of humor, if you don't like humor we won't vibe together, and if you can't make me laugh we will not be a good relationship match. I like to go to the bar and do karaoke, it's one thing I've learned I'mvery good at. It took me about 2 years, but I've since learned to be confident with my singing and now its one of my favorite things to do. I drink, obviously, gin and tonic is my favorite. I also smoke, I love my hookah, and I've had my medical card for about a year and it's done wonders for my insomnia and cramps. For about 2 years I've been getting severe cramps and stomach pains, and after 5 er trips in a month they didn't find anything, its still a mystery but at least the bud helps the pain. l'm very into the witchy aesthetic; my style is either very Stevie Nicks, pinup, or 2009 emo/scene depending on the day. I collect animal skulls and bone, taxidermy, crystals, and plants; I also practice the craft & love to make spell jars for people. I love tarot and really enjoy doing it. I live for Halloween & enjoy all things macabre! My favorite show is That 70's Show and if I could live in a replica of the Forman's house that would be my dream. I am also very sex positive and rather adventurous in bed. I'm a brat and a voyeur, I'll get down with just about anything. My love language is giving and receiving gifts. I put alot of thought into holidays like Christmas, I plan months in advance to make sure I get everyone the perfect gift; but I also will sometimes see something that just reminds me of someone and have to get it for them. That is all I can think of right now to add about myself. I'd love 4 and/or 10 for the prompt part. And again thank you for doing these, I'm such a ho for them, and again I'm sorry its long.

I match you with

Edgar!

Thank you so much for requesting 🥰🥰! I’m sorry this took so long, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it ❤️! I Hope you don’t mind the sprinkle of angst in the second ask.😅

I was thinking Ray at first, but I ended up going with Mr smooth, since Ray is too predictable after Nap.

Edgar is known among the red army officers as the person who will make you feel safe, especially during your first encounters with them, before you find out they’re all dorks. What he doesn’t expect is how at home he feels when the two of you are together. He never feels like he’s being judged when he’s around you and he lets himself go, despite the indoctrination by Claudius that he should always keep people at a distance to avoid being viewed as weak.

Not long after the two of you met, he decides to take you out along with Kyle for a drink, to help you get more accustomed to Cradle and its people. When you realize how much Kyle loves to drink, you follow suite, the two of you very quickly getting tipsy. Edgar laughs at the two of you for a bit, happy to see a new side of you as you allow yourself to grow more comfortable with them. Eventually he leads the two of you outside of the pub and arranges for a carriage to take you all back to headquarters, trying his hardest to tame the both of you.

He absolutely loves it when you sing to him, especially after a particularly hard day of work. He relaxes at the sound of your voice, often drifting off. It touches him more than he would like to admit when he finds you’re still there when he wakes up.

You are a light in his life and he wants to give back in kind, often dedicating his days off entirely to you. He loves giving you gifts, or surprising you with a romantic dinner to show his appreciation to you, for being there and understanding him.

While he doesn’t have the creativity to participate in most of your hobbies, he loves to watch you do it. The amount of passion you show for your art, the way your eyes light up when you’re working, is a picture perfect moment that he could look at for hours.

Prompt 4: Meet cute:

You couldn’t stop fidgeting as you stood outside the Red Army Headquarters, waiting for Kyle to fetch someone to help you. After you told him about burglars breaking into your house he insisted he get one of the officers to help you, despite you doubts. It was hard not to worry as you considered the prospect of having to turn to Jonah for help, knowing how hard he could be to communicate with, capable officer or not.

When Kyle finally emerged, it wasn’t Jonah walking next to him, but a man you didn’t recognize.

“Sorry for the wait. He’s not easy to find.” The man stood a few heads higher than you but his softer features and aura helped to make him quite welcoming. You begun to relax at his presence, wondering if he was as smooth as he seemed.

“Edgar Bright, at your service.” He offered you a gloved hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. His grip was soft but secure. He was smooth.

“Kyle filled me on the details but I’ll need a statement from you as well.” You tensed up, the idea of an interrogation being especially daunting considering you didn’t know much more than they did.

“No need to worry, it’s simply protocol. You can trust we will find whoever did this without any turbulence.” There was something very reassuring about him. Something that makes you think everything will be all right.

“Thank you.”

The two of you left Kyle behind, retreating to Edar’s room to discuss the details of the investigation. After he poured two cups of tea he took the seat opposite you, as if the two of you were about to chat about the weather.

“Could you give me the details of what happened? It would be very helpful to hear it straight from the source.” You took a sip before starting with your statement, hoping to calm your nerves.

“I don’t know much more than you do. I was out for work most of the day and when I came back the place was a mess and many valuables were missing.” he seemed to have switched to work mode, completely focused on you.

“What time did you leave for work that day? And when did you return” he scribbled down on a piece of paper, his hand practically moving on its own.

“I left around 8 and came back around 6, I think.” When he put the pen down his attitude returned to relaxed gentleman status.

“I will start with asking the people who might have been present at the scene. I’ll get back to you once I’ve made some progress.” The conversation was over but you found it hard to leave. It didn’t feel right letting one man do the investigation on his own, despite it being his job. It was your house that had been rambled after all.

“I want to help as well. I know my way around the area, I can get in touch with some people.” His eyes widened, seemingly taken aback for the first time that day. He quickly composed himself, smiling again. You noticed something different about it now. Something in his expression told you he was more interested than before.

“I wouldn’t say no to a lady.” You smiled for the first time after the incident.

“Let’s get going then.”

Prompt 10: Admission Of Feelings.

You continued working on the investigation for the next few weeks, the two of you growing closer by the day.

“There don’t seem to be any witnesses, but it’s unlikely no one was present. The break in happened in the middle of the day.” He rested his head on his chin, not touching the parfait sitting in front of him.

“Maybe they were there but didn’t notice anything. It’s not hard for a professional to pick a lock discreetly.” They two of you sat in silence for some time, both lost in your own theories of what happened that day.

He must have realized your worries, turning on his comfort face.

“We’ll find them. Don’t worry.” Usually you found his words comforting, but you couldn’t keep the frustration from your voice when you looked up at him.

“Realistically speaking, it’s probably not going to happen. They made a clean escape and left nothing behind. You don’t need to baby me, I can put two and two together.” Despite the harshness of your tone, you found him smiling, after the initial surprise wore off.

“You never cease to amaze me.” He opened his mouth to say something, but the words never left him, his eyes turning to the window. He was up and out of the café before you could ask what he had seen.

“What the-“when you looked in the direction of the culprit, you shot up, following after him.

A man stood outside your door, seemingly fighting with the door. When he noticed the two of you approaching him, he dropped his bags, taking off before you could reach him.

“Stop!” Edgar run after him, his speed taking you by surprise, making it hard to catch up.

The man took a sudden turn, heading towards the narrow alleys of Central Quarter, giving you an important disadvantage in the chase.

Your legs ached and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. When you thought you couldn’t keep going, you rounded a corner to find Edgar, sitting on top of the man, pinning him in place. If he was tired from the chase, it didn’t show.

“I suppose I don’t need to ask if it was you who broke in a few weeks ago?” his gaze was cold and his grip was tight on the man’s shoulders.

“I- I just- I-it wasn’t me!” Edgar ignored him, turning towards you. Something flickered in his eyes, but loud footsteps coming your way didn’t let him act on whatever it was.

“The Jack? Sir, what happened? We heard the commotion and came to investigate.” A handful of Red Army soldiers stood in front of you, their eyes switching between Edgar and the man under him.

“Take this man back to headquarters. I will interrogate him later.” Edgar pulled the man up, pinning his hands behind his back.

“Yes sir!” when the men led the thief away there was silence. Edgar’ kept his head low, not looking you in the eye as he tried to calm his breathing, the adrenaline of the chase slowly fading away. You knew you should be happy the man had been caught, but something was wrong in the atmosphere. You weren’t sure if you should speak up, or let him ride whatever it was out. He didn’t give you time to think on it, finally walking toward you. His hands were shaking when he reached out to touch your shoulders, a mixture of frustration and worry in his eyes.

“You…. Why…” you weren’t sure what to say, so you put your arms around him instead, hoping it would offer him some comfort. You stayed like that for some time, until his hands stopped shaking.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this.” His words were muffled by the fabric of your shirt. When he lifted his head again, something inside him seemed to snap.

“You shouldn’t have followed me. What if something happened? You could have gotten hurt.” He looked away, his eyes shut tight. You wondered what image was going through his head to cause him so much pain. You cupped his face, forcing him to face you.

“Edgar, look at me.” And he did. The sight of you seemed to calm him down.

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m right here.” It took some time for the words to register, but when they did his face moved closer to you. You encouraged him, pulling him closer, your lips connected in a brief kiss. When he pulled away he took a step back, as if scared he had hurt you.

“I-I’m sorry.” You moved closer, smiling up at him.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. Except maybe pulling away.” You laughed. When he realized you might feel the same way he took your hands in his.

“You’re an amazing woman.” He paused to gather his breath before meeting your gaze again.

“If the thought wouldn’t be appalling, could I see more of you, outside of work?” you couldn’t keep the laughter inside.

“Appalling? Edgar, do you think I would kiss someone I find appalling?” you pulled him back in, hoping to get your point across.

“I’ll never get enough of this.” His smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.

“I’ll hold you to that. Because we’re just getting started.” The moon was bright above you as you laughed, your happiness overflowing.

#ikerev #ikerev edgar #ikerev matchups

9 notes · View notes

minorin-fanfictions · 4 years ago

Text

Jimin Oneshot - You Are My Problem

The match was over. Bangtan lost. Jimin's head hung low as he made his way towards his teammates. You wanted to console him, tell him he did great but when you saw Hani, their manager, rubbing his back and sitting too close to him for your liking, all plans to comfort your man were out the window.

Now, being the rational person you were, you weren't gonna cause a scene over something trivial but all hell broke loose when she pulled him in an intimate hug nuzzling her nose in his neck. It was obvious about her darn interest in him and Jimin was being as dense as ever.

You had interrupted their moment just to talk privately with Jimin, pulling him into a more secluded corner.

"Jimin, you need to stop letting your manager be close with such intimacy. She seems to have taken strong interest in you"

"I am not in the mood, babe" you should have listened but you went on.

"You are never in the mood but we need to talk about this."

"Later, [y/n]", ignoring the absence of a nickname you continued

"That's what you said last week and the week before. We barely spend time and you have excuses already piled up!?"

"Not now, [y/n]" Jimin had his fists clenced but you failed to notice it.

"Do you even care? I am giving my all in this relationship "

"And i am not?" He stared incredulously.

"Doesn't look that way. You prefer your fangirls and that flirt manager of yours over me. I wanted to tell you about a lot of things but you keep bailing on me! I am your girlfriend, you know?"

That was the last straw because his next words shook you.

"Maybe it doesn't matter to me! Stop being so fussy over something so damn childish. You're being insensitive and selfish. Hani-shii is as harmless as a fly. Why can't you,for once, understand me. You don't even care about how i feel right now and yet you decide to rant shit about people i care about. Hani-shii isn't bad at all. Your doubtful attitude is something i would prefer living without. Infact, i wish for you out of my life, [y/n]."

With that he stormed to his team. Your breath hitched at his last statement and you knew the damage had been done. It was too late to stop him and slowly he was slipping away from your grasp.

You weren't angry, no. Instead, hurt would be a better word for the swirling emotions. Grief stricken you made your way towards your apartment. Slamming the door shut, you sank to your knees and let the sorrow take over. No one was around to hear the resonating sobs. This was the feeling you had before meeting Jimin. Afterall, you are an orphan. And now, the foreign feeling was back, filling your mind with flashes from the past.

Night fell and you looked outside the window with red puffy eyes and cold cheeks. Vivid images of the argument flashed through your mind. A sigh escaped your parted lips as you stared at the moon.

The argument had escalated into a fight. Nothing physical just lots of hurtful words thrown at each other. You know you should have tried to console him over his loss but then your insecurities mocked you. You wouldn't have minded until she got extra touchy with him. But you know you are the one at fault.

"It hurts," the lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, "Jimin never raised his voice at me, maybe i did take his patience for granted". You knew you weren't going to get any sleep so you made your way towards the small kitchen and cooked ramen for yourself. The few minutes felt like hours and within that span of time you had realisation knocking into you.

The past months, truly had been spent with you being overbearing. " I was being selfish like Jimin had said. The constant need for his full attention, the clingy behaviour infront of his teammates was not what he needed." You were oblivious to Jimin's exhausted state and look where your absent mindness has landed you. Amidst the internal conflict, your eyes had moistened and soft sniffles echoed in the small kitchen. The untouched ramen was left cold while you placed your head on the table to ease the pain building in there. Your breathing soon evened out and after that slumber had engulfed you.

When you woke up next, you were already placed on your bed. Your eyes stung a bit but you could make out the 4:05 AM your clock read on the nightstand. The heavy hand placed around your waist caused your heart to squeeze while the all too familiar scent that lingered in the room had you turning around in no time.

The locks that fell past his face were still a little wet giving away the fact that he may have just ran here after taking a shower. The dim light of the moon was enough to make out the red rims around his eyes making you regret your outburst entirely. You gently encircled your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest snuggling closer. It was silent until he broke it,

"I am sorry, [y/n]"

Unsure if it was the strain in his voice when he said your name or the fact that he just apologised for a fight he wasn't at fault in but it had you hugging him tighter, afraid that his next words would break you two apart.

'It could be those break up lines where he just apologises first so the other person doesn't feel bad or -' your thoughts halted.

"I love you, please don't leave me"

And cue you looking up only to have him staring right back at you with those doe eyes. This man would be the death of anyone.

"Say something, [y/n]"

You wanted to tell him so many things but your paranoia wasn't helping the situation at all. Your orphan status wasn't benefitting your fears either. How were you supposed to tell him that your insecurities hit you everytime people questioned your relationship.?

"This was a bad idea, I should have stayed home, you need space. I shouldn't have raised my voice, you probably hate me. I couldn't sleep knowing i hurt you so i - Oh gosh, I'll leave first"

Before he could leave, you held his hand around your waist only to tug him closer. Taking a deep breath you poured your heart out from the silliest errors you had to his importance in your life.

"I have been scared for the longest time now. One day you'll realize how incompatible we are for each other and how far you are from my reach. But i have learnt that there are ups and downs. There is sadness and happiness. The joy is intertwined with sorrow. There is so much more to this world than what we perceive. Those forces keep us balanced. I believe my downfalls have allowed me to value the exhilarating moments shared between us as well. Thank you, Jimin for everything you do and i am sorry for all the tantrums I have thrown. I am sorry for what I did. I am sorry for stressing you out. I do become selfish when it comes to you but i promise I'll work on my insecurities. You don't deserve to be drained out by my problems. I wish I could be those girls who are confident and -"

"I adore you so stop rambling about what you need to be for me, you are my problem" he chuckled before suggesting, "I haven't been spending time with you so how about we go to the amusement park today. "

"I would rather stay home, have a movie marathon with cuddles and snacks"

Now if it was any other day, you wouldn't have missed this opportunity but his tired eyes were pleading rest so you decided on the last thing your mind could resort to.

Jimin's plum lips curled up slightly, his crescent eyes staring lovingly at you, "Sounds like a plan, babe"

It wasn't long before soft snores echoed in the room and lulled you to sleep. As long as, Jimin was here you'd overcome your problems together. Atleast that is the unspoken promise his intertwined hand told you.

#bangtan #bts #bangtanboys #btsarmy #drabbles #jimin #jiminimagine #jiminff #jiminoneshot #oneshot #fanfiction #btsjimin #parkjimin #pjmff #pjmoneshot

6 notes · View notes

judgement-free-sideblog · 6 years ago

Text

Ghosts from the rainforest

Hi!! I'm back after the Dengue outbreak we have in my town, I had a ton of work and a lot of sick patients, and then I got sick too, so that's why I have been absent, anyway I write part of this while I was sick so if it gets too dark blame the stupid mosquitoes and the fever, I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: A simple rescue mission will bring him back to a place full of nightmares, and maybe this time he could find redemption. Situated in 1975, 2 years after the events of Skull Island.

Warnings: Violence, blood, wounds, mentions of war, cursing, implied smut, smoking, angst.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 5: Old faces

"It was really big huh?" Reles said once you walked back to the campsite.

"WHAT??!" You said completely taken by surprise "I don't... We weren't... I wasn't, what are you talking about?" Your mouth seemed to have a malfunction.

"The monkey" He said looking strangely at you. "I mean Conrad show you the pictures right?"

"Oh that... yeah, it was incredible" You said and the redness in your face only augmented "So you all saw it too"

"Yeah, I mean it took us down from the air, and took many good men with him, but that's in the past now." He gave you a sad look and while you tried to empathize with him your embarrassment start to disappear "Anyway where is the captain?"

"He..." There was the redness again.

"This bloody jungle" He said appearing behind you, doing a better job to remain calmed than you "I have been bitten by more mosquitoes in this past four days than in my whole life" Or maybe he actually didn't care enough about you to have something to hide you thought bitterly.

You avoid his gaze and walked away to get inside your tent, once again you have let your emotions get the best of you, and even when a few moments ago you were lost in the blissful paradise of his touch you had chosen to literally run away from him.

Fortunately the rest of the crew interpreted your silence as grieving and they stay out of it, and he had the delicacy to stay in the back of the truck so you didn't quite spoke besides the strictly necessary.

You crossed the border without any problems and before you realized another two weeks had gone by and you were almost in the other end of the island, just two days away from Bontang and the ship that will take you back to the US.

The last village was a nice quiet place full with lovable people whose grateful looks make all the days on the jungle worth it, but the truth about the world that you knew now was too loud to ignore it, even when the idea was ridiculous the evidence was there and you were afraid that the need of being part of that bigger world would push you away from the job you still have to do on those villages.

A loud noise wake you up in the middle of the night and the clear sound of a gunshot paralyzed you inside the tent, followed by the cries of the younger children and some of the women.

"Di manakah mereka dapat dari itu?" Where did you get that? An authoritarian voice more like a growl asked furious, and you immediately recognize his owner and a horrible shiver run down your body and the memory of a knife in your stomach flashed in your eyes, you touch the scar that was now almost invisible, but this time you were not willing to hide and run.

You went out of the tent cautiously, there he was Sargent Walker, one of the many former militaries that chose to follow the money when the war ended, he was holding a piece of clothing in front of a terrified woman who kept crying and looking down to her child, who was on his knees in front of Walker.

"Let's try again" He said passing his humungous hand on his poorly kept beard, he take out the bullets on a small gun and put just one back in the barrel, and made it roll "Di manakah mereka dapat dari itu?" He said and shoot in the head of the child fortunately not harming him.

You were getting closer and when he was about to take another shot a strong arm pull you back delicately enough so you won't scream. James make you stay quiet with a sign of his hand and then you realize what Walker was holding, it was Conrad's old SAS jacket that among other things the people offered to wash down the river, probably where that animal and his men found it.

"Now you kill children four feet from you, are you that blockish??" He said with a calm voice trying to hide his anger. "I'm here, you don't have to threat this people." He said doing something incredibly stupid and throwing his gun in front of him rising his hands.

"No Captain, is not blockish since it made you come out" He said pushing the child aside with a kick and his mother run to take him to safety. "I thought you knew better than keep messing in my business"

"And I thought that with all the money you got, you will stay out of Malaysian territory, what happened did you drink it all or did you left it in the room of some cheap prostitute, Sargent??" He roll the last word on his mouth maliciously and before giving any answer Walker made a signal to his men and two of them push him to the ground hitting him in the stomach.

"No, no Captain" He said finally once Conrad rise his look at him "I asked first, what in the name of God are you doing in my island?" He said and approach to him, and James spit on his face for all response getting himself hit on the face again, this time the blood start running kn his cheek and from his lips and you could no longer watch.

"Don't!" Slivko's voice call you from behind and pointed at the jungle where they had been repairing the truck away from the village, your heart start racing with gratitude that they were fine, but the look on his face dissipate that feeling immediately.

"We have to help him" you said in a whisper.

"The Captain give the order of keeping you safe Doctor, we have to hide" He said, sounding too adult for his young face.

"What do you mean hide? He needs you!" You said looking back at Conrad that was still on the ground.

"He made his choice, we have to leave" Reg said more like a plea, and took you by the hand urging you to come with him "Y/N please we have to go" You let him lead you, but you turn back to look at him one last time and for a brief moment he look back at you and gave you a knowing nod.

"Too bad it has to end like this" the Sargent voice said and put his gun back to James head "Farewell old friend..." his hand was firmly holding the trigger.

"STOP" You scream and run away from Reg to put yourself in front of Walker. "Stop this right now" Two of his man hold you still before you could reach Conrad and he look at you angry.

"What is this? You are also here? Is it my birthday guys?" The Sargent said with a disgusting grin on his face. "Let me guess, another of your little diplomatic missions" He said at Conrad.

"This man is my personal guard and we are in a humanitarian mission, I will ask you to stop what you're doing and leave this village alone" You said and he start laughing, but put down his weapon.

"You have balls doc, I'll give you that, I'll remember to push the knife deeper the next time, or maybe just go for the throat directly" He said and the man let you go.

"Whatever you think you'll get from this people you are wrong, leave Y/N out of this, your problem is with me" Conrad said with a throaty voice when you help him stand up. "Why the fuck did you came back?" He said at you more calmed.

"James you're hurt, focus on that" you answered.

"Y/N? James?" Walker said before laughing again "Oh at least the good taste is a constant in you Captain, and you, the little uptight fancy doctor, in the end you are just a whore as any other woman don't you? Well since there is nothing useful for me here I might as well get rid of you both" he said and your legs tremble a little but James make sure to hold you tight, even as badly hurt as he was.

One of Walker's men approach him and whispered something to him, a moment after he nodded not quite convinced.

"Let's go", he said finally "Kill him, and bring her"

"What? You are going to have to kill me too, because there's no way I'm going without him" You said putting yourself in front of James.

"Fine, as you wish" Walker said and hold his gun again, but this he didn't shoot, the last thing you saw was the wedge of the gun before it hit you on the head and everything went red, then black, you could feel the hot blood running through your face and Conrad screaming in the distance, then your body was lifted and tossed in the back of a truck and he next to you, and then silence.

@kinghiddlestonanddixon I'm tagging you in case you want to continue reading this little story 😊

#kong skull island fanfiction #kong skull island #captain james conrad x reader #james conrad x reader #captain james conrad x you #james conrad imagine #captain james conrad #james conrad #joe reles #reg slivko #original male character #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston

54 notes · View notes

jinxthequeergirl · 6 years ago

Text

Not the villain (pt.4)

Crowley x reader

Summary: you are visited by a witch, your father dies the final week before your coronation, Haster takes action, and Crowley ends up missing

Warning: death/implied smut/otherwise nothing to dramatic

~~~~~

You had gotten up earlier than normal to return Bentley to Crowley. The forest was quiet and dim.

Only a few rays of the rising Sun shone through the trees lighting up the tops of the them. It was scilent except for the breeze in the trees and Bentley slowly trotting down the dirt road.

You took it all in breathing in deeply inviting the morning air in. Then bentley stopped momentarily. "Bentley? What's wrong?" you leaned forward to look at him but stopped when you heard an unusual snapping of twigs coming from the side of the path.

You tightened your grip on the rains.

"Your majesty!?" a girl ran out onto the track Bentley reared back knocking you to the ground and ran off. "Bentley!"

"Oh God I'm so sorry princess I didn't mean to scare you or your steed."

The woman made her way to you helping you up and dusting off your dress. "It's alright I'm not hurt what are you doing run into the middle of the path like that?"

The girl straightened herself out fixing her round glasses and bowed.

"Your majesty I am Anathema and it's very important that I deilever a message to you."

"Well Anathema you may rise. what is this message?" Anathman stood and faced you.

"You are in danger."

"Really?" you started walking down the path and she followed. "Yes the prophacy stated that....that the people you trust may be more than meets the eye.the one she's born from may pass and disaster will strike!"

"Well I'll keep that in mind but tell me Anathema how do you know this?"

"Well in all honesty...I..I'm a witch...and that prophecy from my grandmother who was also a witch and she had that directed to you!"

"Well thank you for the warning Anathema."

"You are very welcome your majesty."

You smiled and looked at her. "What else can you do?" anathema arched her eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"I mean as a witch? Any special ability's? Things like that?"

She smiled and began to explain to you a few thing here and there as you both continued to walk down the path. The Sun rising now filling the entire forest with the earily morning glow.

As the two of you approached crowley castle Anathema slowed down. "What is this place?"

"My friend Crowley lives just up the hill in the castle...that was his horse who rode of."

"Well he's probably got the horse back by now...I don't like the feeling of this place..."

You both stoped. "Its probably just the castle...a lot of bad things have happened here before it was left like it is now." you did your best to eaise her thoughts. Before you could continue further Crowley appeared not to far ahead of you.

"Y/n!" he ran towards you scooping you up in his arms. "Your alright!?"

"Yes yes I'm fine!"

"Bentely came back frightened with out you on him so I thought something was wrong-"

You laughed at him and he stoped to look at you still holding you in his arms. "What."

"Nothing I've just never seen you like this." he smiled softly. "Its all the same as yesterday you've changed me...but you are sure you are alright?.."

You cupped his face in one of your hands and smiled. "I'm fine."

Crowley in that moment wanted to lean down catch your lips in his and show how releved he was but he stopped when he saw Anathema appear into view.

She looked him up and down in distaste.

"Y/n?.."

You turned and followed his gaze. "Oh! Crowley this is anathema...she...she walked me here after Bentley ran off. Anathema this is Crowley." you freeded yourself from his hold and excitedly introduced the two. "Pleaser...y/n Why don't we to in and have some tea?"

You smiled and took his hand. "Oh sounds great why doesnt Ana-"

"Sorry princess I have some where to be.thank you though." she sneered at Crowley one last time before turning and heading back.

You and Crowley spent the rest of the morning and afternoon enjoying breakfast and gardening.

You sat in the garden teaching Crowley how to make a flower crown when there was comotion at the front gate. "Your majesty!" you both stood up looking at one of the gauird from you castle.

"It's the king...Aziraphale sent us to get you." You looked at them worriedly and turned to Crowley. "Go I'll see you tonight.." you smiled lightly and placed the flower crown on his head. Before turning to the gauaird who helped you onto a horse.

"I'm sure everything is alright y/n..." you smiled and nodded and quickly rode off in haste.

By the time you had gotten to the court yard you where sprinting into the castle and up to the room where your father was.

"Dad!?" you ran to the bed side where Aziraphale already stood. "Daddy what's the matter?" you took his hand and held it. "Y/n My darling..." he coughed and you looked up at Aziraphale. "Aziraphale?"

"Y/n I can't hold on any longer..."

"Daddy no! please..." years where already down your face and Aziraphale watched with sadness. "I know you'll do good...I love you my princess..."

"I love you too daddy..please don't go!" he stopped moving and Aziraphale grabbed you pulling you away. "He's gone. He's gone..." you held onto him and sobbed into his shoulder. "I should...should have...should have spent more time with...with him!"

"No no he wanted you to be out you couldn't do anything..."

You continued to cry and he lead you out of the room to yours. "Come on lets get you cleaned up it's late and you should rest and take time to process everything..." he sat you on the bed. "I'll have a maide come in and clean you up for bed." you nodded running tears from your face.

You lied in bed in a new night gown curled up on the bed staring blankly at the moon light flooding the room. All you could think about was anathemas message and how you should have listened.

The door opened and Crowley stepped inside and sat on the end of your bed. "I'm sorry..."

Your eyes moved to look at him. "I know I don't know what it's like to lose some one like that...but I can only imagine...." you only looked at him as he attempted to make you feel better.

He sighed rubbed the back of his neck. "But I just wanted to check on you...make sure you where alright...but you should sleep." he got up and headed to the door.

Before he could even grab the handle you jumped up, grabbed his wrist, pulled him close to you and kissed him deeply. You felt the shock in him melt away for him to kiss back with just as much fource.

"Wait! wait..." he pulled away looking at you. "What are-"

"I think I'm in love with you! I know this is a weird time to tell you but I just..I just don't want to..to think about-"

Crowley kissed you again cutting you off. Your hands traveld to his face And you pulled away again slowly. Your hands reached for his glasses and you began to pull them off. He didn't want you to see.

Not yet. Not now. Not this way. He shut his eye's as you pulled them of and opened them slowly. Instead of his normal yellow snake eyes all you saw where beautiful brown eyes.

You smiled softly rubing your thumb just under his eye. He placed a hand over yours and whispered softly just for your ears only. "I'm in love with you too."

You smiled and leaned in again kissing him. His hands traveld down your back to the lace that held your night gown up. He pulled the string lightly letting it come undone. You peeled of layers of his outfit off letting your dress fall and pool around your ankles.

You both went over to the bed finishing what you where starting.

While in hell Haster and ligur prepared to finish the job Crowley was sent to do.

They approached the front gate the castle towering menacingly over them. "You sure he's here?"

"Yes the love of his life just lost her father he'll want to be there for her." he said in a mockingly sweet tone. Haster turned to his companion. "Ready?"

Ligur nodded and rolled his neck as he began to change from his normal ghastly appearance to you. "Ready."

Crowley had his arm drapped over your wasit as you slept. Or so he thought he did for when he was woken up you wheren't there.

Someone called his name from out front softly. "Crowley." he got up gathering a few layers of his clothes and made his way to the window.

You. Or an illiustion of you stood outside waiting for him. "Crowley."

He quickly pushed him self from the window and made his way down to her. All the while you did lay fast asleep in bed not noticing the absents of warmth from Crowley anymore.

He made his was down to the gate calling out to you carefully. "Y/n? What are you doing out here? Come back to bed." he inched closer to her and she turned around. "Sorry love... But your job here is done." and just like that Haster appeared behind him and bat him over the head knocking him out.

Ligur returned to his natural form. "Get em' back to hell I've got more work up here I'll summon you when it's time."

Ligur followed his order and grabbed Crowley before vanishing back to hell. Haster glanced at the castle one last time before stroling out to the forest whistiling a pleasent tune to him self. The Sun would be rising in a few hours now and the plan could finally set into motion.

Tagging:

@writer-of-camelot

@phoenixuprisingsstuff

@ibjessjess

@lemoncitrusgurl

@a--1--1--3

@dadzawas-eyebags

@sophiematskiv

#crowley x reader #good omens x reader

89 notes · View notes

echoes-of-realities · 6 years ago

Text

be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe) - 24/25

* * *

[From the Start] // [Fanfiction] // [ao3]

[Previous Chapter]

Chapter Summary: The Nutcracker has its last show; Santana and Brittany spend Christmas Eve together.

Notes: We’re Almost there fam! Also the actual George Balanchine’s The Nutcracker doesn’t stop after Christmas and goes up to December 30th at least, but just for simplicity’s sake I’m taking artistic liberties and in this universe the ballet’s last show is today.

Chapter 24: watching old movies while the fireplace fades

///

The last show of the production’s run is at two, but Brittany still gets up early to help Mercedes finish up the last of her packing. She’s leaving with Sam as soon as the show is over tonight to head back home until New Year’s, her and Sam heading to her parents’ place first and then his; usually the company and crew will have a wrap-up party as soon as the last show is done, but with it being Christmas Eve and all, this production of The Nutcracker usually skips that tradition so everyone has more time with their families and has it sometime between Christmas and New Year’s.

Mercedes is just zipping up her suitcase when Brittany wanders into her room, yawning and absently pulling her messy hair up into an even messier bun. “Nee’ ‘elp?” she mumbles.

Mercedes giggles and rolls her eyes. “You’re only wearing one sock,” she comments mildly.

Brittany looks down, too tired to feel surprised, and shrugs. “Lefty was too hot,” she says nonchalantly, and Mercedes bursts into giggles. “I’ll help you take your stuff out to the living room.”

Mercedes hefts her suitcase off of the bed and motions to the pile of wrapped gifts in the corner of her room, all neatly packed into couple of reusable grocery bags. “You can grab those.”

“What time is Sam picking us up?” Brittany asks as she trails after Mercedes.

“Like, nine thirty-ish?”

“Cool,” Brittany says, “I’ll have time to tidy up then.”

“Why?”

Brittany feels a blush creep into her cheeks before she can even think to try and hide it, which probably would have proved useless anyways, since Mercedes has, like, hawk eyes when it comes to Brittany’s embarrassment.

Mercedes, sure enough, looks back and instantly spots Brittany’s blush, her grin taking on a wicked edge. “Oooh, is your girlfriend coming over?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Brittany mumbles automatically, but even as she says the words it kind of feels like she’s lying.

“In all but name maybe,” Mercedes says, and Brittany has to concede her point.

“The name part of that is kind of important,” Brittany argues as she drops the presents beside Mercedes’ suitcase.

“Maybe,” Mercedes concedes, “But the feelings part is pretty important too, and that’s definitely there.”

Brittany smiles a little, almost involuntarily, as the thought of being in love with Santana still fills her with bright warmth, and hums in acknowledgement. “I invited her to spend Christmas Eve here since neither of us had any plans.”

“I’m happy for you, Brittany,” Mercedes says softly, and Brittany grins bashfully down at her toes, too distracted by the warmth blooming in her chest realize that Mercedes has started smirking at her. “Just don’t christen any public places please.”

“Mercedes!” Brittany squeals, patting at her cheeks as the blush burning there flares up into an inferno.

“And make sure you kids stay hydrated and well-fed, you don’t want to run out of energy.”

“No no no!” Brittany shrieks, fleeing backwards towards the bathroom, her skin burning bright red from forehead to collarbone, “I take back anything I ever said when you and Sam got together!”

Mercedes smirks because, considering the teasing she got back then, there's no way she's going to give Brittany a break now that she's in love. "Make sure you're safe!" she calls.

“Oh shut up!” Brittany calls back before slamming the bathroom door shut.

///

Even though it’s Christmas Eve, the theatre is surprisingly—or not so surprisingly—packed, people already starting to filter into the lobby even as the company and crew take their last lunch break of the show’s run an hour before half hour. Brittany’s always antsy for last shows, both excited for it to be over so she can finally rest (and, this year, spend the evening with Santana) but dreading it because it means that there will never be another show like this, with this particular group of dancers and kids and crew, ever again.

Santana brings her lunch from that sandwich shop she loves, the same place she bought lunch for them that very first time, kickstarting their almost daily lunch and supper dates. Santana doesn’t bother with any pretences, just sinks down to the floor right beside Brittany, taking her left arm and draping it over her shoulder so they can cuddle and eat. Mercedes, Sam, Tina, and Mike all show up about halfway through their break with an assortment of food between all of them, sprawling on the floor to complete the circle in an impromptu picnic and fondly teasing Brittany and Santana as soon as they all realize their spending Christmas together.

Every single time Mercedes catches Brittany’s eye she feels heat crawl up into her cheeks at the knowing glint there. Santana seems to notice something tense—not bad tense, just the knowing and teasing tension when you know your friend is laughing at you across the room—and quickly takes Brittany’s free hand, as soon as they’re both done eating, and pulls it into her lap to play with her fingers, tracing the webbing between each finger and pressing down on her knuckles like piano keys. It eases the blush from Brittany’s cheeks and softens the teasing glint in Mercedes eyes, and Brittany soaks in the feeling of being surrounded by so much love, from her friends and from Santana, before the chaos of the last show overtakes them.

///

The audience is electric during Brittany’s last performance, knowing it’s their last chance to see this show until next year, and Brittany dances better than she ever has before, knowing that Santana is hidden in the curtains watching. She dances for the audience and she dances for herself but, mostly, she dances for Santana, for the woman who brought laughter and love into her life, who brought her family to her, who brought her love of Christmas back.

Her bow goes on longer than normal as the audience cheers for her, and she’s breathing quickly as pride fills her limbs in place of heavy exhaustion. She exits the stage to continuing applause, waiting in the wings for Jake to go on and do the opening of the Coda before she joins him. She feels someone watching her, and a smile tugs at her lips before she even turns to catch Santana’s eye, and the smile on Santana’s face makes her stomach flutter with about a bajillion butterflies, her chest blooming with warmth and love.

Santana shakes her head a little, still smiling softly, as if she can’t quite believe that Brittany’s real, and Brittany gives a small wave, feeling her heartbeat everywhere, before she turns back to the stage and prepares to join Jake for the Coda, Santana’s gaze heavy and warm on her back as she steps back into the lights.

///

Mercedes helps her out of her costume and unpins her hair quickly so she can rush off to meet Sam and they can try and beat the rush out of the city back to her parents’ house tonight; since it’s the twenty-fourth already, nobody has to pack the show back up into storage until after Christmas.

Mercedes gives Brittany a tight hug before she leaves, still continuing her teasing and making Brittany blush all the way to the tips of her ears as she chases her best friend out the door and runs straight into Santana, who quickly gives Mercedes a brief hug goodbye before turning to Brittany with a wide smile.

“Hi!” Brittany greets brightly, pretending her skin isn’t splotched with pink despite Santana’s adoring gaze on the blush in her cheeks.

“Hey,” Santana says softly. She’s already dressed in her jacket and has a small bag of overnight stuff in one hand, wearing the scarf and hat that Brittany had lent her last week and tying Brittany’s stomach into knots at seeing her own clothes on Santana. “You ready to go?” she asks.

Brittany nods and they just smile at each other for long moments—Brittany taking in this moment, this feeling, this girl—before Brittany turns to shrug on her jacket and collect her things. Santana stands patiently by the door, waiting until Brittany’s locked her dressing room before she reaches out to take her hand, their fingers tangling together easily as they head down the hallway, Brittany quickly easing Santana’s bag from her other hand so she can carry it for her, not missing the smile Santana gives her or the way her stomach ties itself into warm knots at how couple-y it feels.

They wave goodbye and wish Merry Christmases to their friends as the pass them on their way out of the theatre, deciding to walk back to Brittany’s apartment since it’s still pretty nice out despite the snow that falls in gentle swirls of white as they step out onto the street, dusting Santana’s borrowed hat in a thin layer of white and sparkling in her dark lashes. Santana glances up at Brittany and smiles, bright and unabashed and dimples-deep, before looking forward again with that breathless, flustered look she gets when she blushes. Her cheeks are a little pinked, from the cold or her blush Brittany’s not sure, but it makes liquid warmth pool in her stomach, so happy and so in love that she doesn’t know how anything in the world could ever feel better than this.

Her attention is drawn across the street where two men hold the hands of a little boy, helping him take a couple stumbling steps before swinging him into a high arc, his giggles bright with childlike innocence even across the lanes of slow moving traffic.

“He’s cute,” Santana says beside her, drawing Brittany’s eyes back to hers.

“You’re cute,” Brittany says automatically but sincerely. Santana rolls her eyes a little but doesn’t even bother to bite back her smile. “We should stop on the store on the way past. We can get something for supper and maybe, like, baking stuff or something?”

“Baking?” Santana teases, and Brittany shrugs a little.

“What? I may be a disaster in the kitchen when it comes to baking but I know you aren’t,” Brittany says with a smirk, “Tina told me.”

Santana gasps over-dramatically. “What a traitor!”

Brittany just giggles and tugs a little on Santana’s hand in hers, pulling them even closer together and soaking up this feeling of unbridled joy.

///

The grocery store is insane, but they’re in no rush so they just wander the aisles leisurely, dodging over-excited kids and frantic parents and slow old couples, giggling at everyone rushing around despite the fact that they both just feel comfortable and relaxed.

Santana carries their two bags of groceries and snacks since Brittany still has her bag, and they tangle their fingers together again as soon as they step back out into the weak winter sun. It’s already past five, but they’re still in no rush as they head back to Brittany’s apartment, discussing their plans on which Christmas movies they have to watch and which ones they’ll skip.

Brittany takes the groceries from Santana and drops them off in the kitchen, directing Santana to turn the tree on and set up the living room for their movie marathon, before heading down the hall to drop Santana’s bag off too. She stands in the hallway for a long moment, fighting an internal debate before she finally pushes her door open and drops Santana’s bag by the dresser; she’s honestly not being presumptuous, because Mercedes offered her room if needed, she’s just being hopeful.

By the time she gets the groceries put away and a couple hot chocolates made, Santana is already snugged up on the couch, one blanket over her lap and the other around her shoulders, the lights turned off except for the Christmas tree and the television screen; she’s already figured out the DVD player and the empty case to Home Alone sits on the shelf of her and Mercedes’ combined collection.

Santana brightens as soon as Brittany comes into her view, shifting around until she can lift both blankets up for Brittany. It takes a little bit of maneuvering, but eventually they get settled against each other, curled under the blankets, without spilling a drop of hot chocolate. Santana quickly hits play on the DVD remote before tossing it onto the coffee table and taking her mug from Brittany.

“I used to watch Home Alone every single year,” Santana says quietly, a nostalgic smile on her face, “And I kind of want to restart that tradition.”

“But you’re not home alone,” Brittany teases.

Santana tries to give her a smug smirk but her eyes are as soft as her voice, “Maybe I want to make some new traditions.”

And, really, what can she say to that without shouting her love from the rooftops? So instead she just cuddles further into Santana and sips her hot chocolate.

Even though they start out sitting under the blankets, as soon as they finish their hot chocolate they end up laying out on the couch, Brittany flat on her back with Santana sprawled on top of her, repurposing Brittany’s breasts into her own personal pillow, and the blankets wrapped around them. Brittany ends up spending more time watching Santana and playing with her hair than she does watching Santana’s favourite Christmas movie, but watching Santana is her favourite thing so it’s a pretty fair tradeoff.

Her mom calls about three-quarters of the way through Home Alone and Santana lifts herself off of Brittany just enough to reach the remote and pause the movie before cuddling back into her while Brittany talks to her mom and curls a strand of Santana’s hair around her finger, and it feels so domestic that she can’t imagine doing anything else for the rest of her life.

After Home Alone they take a break to make supper, giggling the entire time as they weave around each other in the kitchen and end up spending more time laughing than they do eating.

Brittany runs to the bathroom while Brittany sets up another movie, laying back on the couch and waiting for Santana to see her choice.

Santana’s gasp is as satisfying as Brittany thought it would be as she grins up at the ceiling, waiting until Santana rounds the couch to stand in front of her, blocking out the dim lights from the Christmas tree and the title screen for Gremlins on the television.

“Brittany!” Santana whines.

“Santana!” Brittany teases.

“I swear to god, Brittany, if I get nightmares from this,” Santana threatens toothlessly.

Brittany just giggles and tugs Santana down to the couch with ease. She falls onto Brittany and instantly softens and sighs in contentment as Brittany wraps both her arms tightly around Santana and draws her further into her embrace, nuzzling into Santana’s hair until she can kiss her forehead. “I’ll chase the nightmares away,” she promises. Santana’s breath hitches and she presses a kiss to Brittany’s collarbone, making Brittany’s skin burst into burning goosebumps at the feel of Santana’s soft lips on her skin.

“You better,” Santana mumbles into Brittany’s neck, waiting until Brittany reaches for the remote to play the movie before she nuzzles herself as close to Brittany as she can and still see the television.

Brittany thinks her heart might just burst from loving Santana so much.

///

They fall asleep sometime in the middle of Gremlins, waking up hours later to the twinkling Christmas lights against the night sky Brittany can see through the window, the television having automatically turned itself off after so long.

Brittany trails her fingers along Santana’s back and sides, drawing swirling patterns into the warm body above her with just enough pressure to gently wake Santana, who just cuddles further into Brittany instead of waking fully.

“We’re real party animals,” Brittany teases.

Santana grunts and nuzzles her nose into Brittany’s neck. “Saving it for New Year’s,” she grumbles.

Brittany laughs and feels a smile curl against her neck in response. They lay there for a couple more minutes until Santana finally emerges from Brittany’s neck, propping herself up on one elbow, the blanket falling from her shoulders, and glancing across the living room before gazing down at Brittany with the softest look on her face.

“Hi,” Brittany murmurs.

Santana’s eyes are liquid and dark and basically hold the secrets to the entire universe. “Hi,” she whispers, nodding her jaw towards the television with a small smile but not dropping her gaze from Brittany’s, “It’s eleven-eleven. Make a wish.”

Brittany glances to the side and sees the bright red time glowing on the television box thing that she never remembers the name of. She smiles and closes her eyes, wishing for the one thing she wants more than anything, the only thing she’s wanted all month.

“Did you make your wish?” Brittany asks after long moments of silence, her eyes still closed and her body feeling Santana along it even better with her lack of sight. Santana hums in acknowledgement and Brittany smiles blindly. “Good,” she whispers, “I hope it comes true.”

“Oh, I have a feeling it definitely will,” Santana murmurs, and the feeling of her thumb brushing along her cheek finally draws Brittany’s eyes open, fluttering at the sensation.

“Mine too,” Brittany whispers.

“Oh yeah?”

Brittany nods slowly, one hand stilling against the small of Santana’s back and the other one sliding along her shoulders under waves of dark hair, her fingers almost brushing the nape of Santana’s neck as Santana sighs and tilts her head down a little.

Santana’s face hovers a scant few inches above her own, the lights from the Christmas tree painting her skin in splotches of faint blue and red and green. One of Santana’s hands curls against the fabric of Brittany’s t-shirt, plucking and worrying the fabric between her fingers, her eyes caught on the peak of Brittany’s cheek but not actually meeting blue eyes.

“You’re nervous to kiss me,” Brittany realizes.

“I mean— Kinda?” Santana says sheepishly, “Not like nervous nervous but like— I mean we’ve literally been trying for forever and every time we do we get interrupted and now I’m worried that we’ll keep getting interrupted or it won’t be—”

And then—

Then Brittany slides her hand a little further up and guides Santana’s lips to her own, her rambling cut off by the gentle pressure of Brittany’s mouth moving slowly against hers. Santana’s lips part under Brittany’s and she lets out this breathy sigh into Brittany’s mouth and Brittany’s soul trembles with the weight of Santana’s lips against hers. Santana tastes faintly of chocolate, but something sweeter and deeper, and she tastes of summer nights on the west coast, bright and warm.

She tastes like home.

Santana’s fingers trail across her face as she presses closer, and Brittany feels both steady and like she’s about to float away, like everything over the past week, over the past mouth—probably over her entire life—has built towards this moment, like this is exactly what she was made to do. Santana’s lips move against hers with all the time in the world, like they’re stuck in a traffic jam with nowhere else to go, her lips soft and pliant against Brittany’s, eyelashes fluttering against the peak of her cheek, noses nudging together, and Brittany smiles into the kiss because this—

This is everything that Brittany’s been looking for her entire life.

She pulls back just far enough to press their foreheads together so she can try and breathe properly, but with Santana’s nose still nuzzling against hers that proves impossible. “Are you still nervous?” she whispers.

Santana doesn’t answer, she just uses the hand on Brittany’s jaw to guide their lips back together, and then they’re both smiling into the kiss, too wide for it to be anything more than all teeth and no finesse. Brittany lets her hand drift from the small of Santana’s back and start to wander her body under the blanket, the other playing with the baby fine hairs at the back of Santana’s neck.

Santana lets out a fluttery little sigh into Brittany’s mouth and Brittany can’t help but press up to kiss her harder again, and again, and again, and again—

///

When Brittany wakes up hours later in her bed, it’s to Santana drawing hearts on her bare stomach. Her fingers are light and soft against her skin and Brittany’s breath hitches; there’s no intent behind Santana’s touch, she doesn’t skate her fingers suggestively lower or higher, she just trails her fingers across Brittany’s skin with quiet marvel, and it jolts something in Brittany. No one’s ever touched her just for the sake of touching her and mapping her body before, just to connect the freckles and moles sprinkled across her torso into constellations, just to map each scar and imperfection that puckers her skin.

No one’s ever touched her just to learn every inch of her skin against their fingertips.

Santana realizes that Brittany is awake when the hand Brittany has curled over her waist starts lazily scratching at the soft skin there. She turns her head up towards Brittany and, even in the dim of the middle of the night, she can see the softness to Santana’s smile, the shadow of a dimple in her cheek, the love shining in her eyes, and something buzzing and warm tugs low in Brittany’s stomach as she falls in love with Santana all over again.

“Hi,” she whispers.

Santana’s smile widens a little. “Hi.”

“Merry Christmas,” Brittany says, reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of dark hair back behind Santana’s ear. She’s not sure exactly what time it is, but by the time they managed to untangle and stop kissing long enough to pull themselves up off the couch and stumble down the hall, the bright red time glowing on the television box thing had read 12:34.

Santana smiles and nuzzles into the hand that cups her jaw. “Merry Christmas,” she returns quietly.

Brittany leans up to press a soft, probing kiss to Santana’s lips, chaste and intimate all at once. “So did your wish come true?” she asks as she falls back to the pillow.

Santana nods and her smile loses its softness and takes on that playfully teasing look Brittany so adores. “Well, I wished that we would finally actually get to kiss without being interrupted, and, well,” she drags her hand down the bare skin of Brittany’s ribs to make her point and they both burst into laughter, Santana’s head dropping down to Brittany’s shoulder as they giggle. She presses a lingering kiss to the soft skin there and Brittany’s breath hitches as Santana props herself back up on her elbow, her other hand trailing circles on Brittany’s hip, and smiles softly at her. “What about you?” Santana whispers, “Did your wish come true?”

Brittany softens until she feels like she might melt right through her bed at the sweetness to Santana’s expression. She takes a moment to trace a heart on Santana’s hip before she smiles up at Santana. “Yeah, it did.”

Santana trails her hand up Brittany’s torso, skating her fingers against her breastbone and dipping into the hollow of her collarbone before she reaches Brittany’s face and cups her jaw, leaving a trail of buzzing heat in her wake. She leans down to press the softest of kisses to the corner of Brittany’s mouth and Brittany’s pretty sure her soul trembles at the contact. Santana draws back just barely enough to speak, her half-lidded eyes softening and the very tips of her lips brushing against Brittany’s chin as she speaks. “What was it?” she whispers.

Brittany just tilts her head up to press their lips together, both of them sighing at the contact.

“You,” she breathes, “Just you.”

#brittana #brittany pierce #santana lopez #glee #brittana fanfiction #glee fanfiction #my writing #story: be my fire in the cold (and I'll be waiting by the mistletoe)#it's christmas eve??????#I'm literally in Shock that we're actually here????#this is the chapter that everyone (mostly me lmao) has been Impatiently Waiting for #me @ me: you should try writing a sort of slow burn fic to challenge yourself #also me @ me: OR you could just have them KISS right NOW #in other words this is the closest to a slow burn I'll ever get lmao

38 notes · View notes