#the latest side story chapter has opened my eyes

[lee-hakhyun]

nobody understands me. yoo sangah and ji eunyu working together would be the deadliest combo for our two poor authors

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 1/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: how did it all start? word count. 1.9k cw. marriage pact au, potential mature content a/n. this is my first time writing fic! hope you all enjoy this story! (♡ n pls let me know if you do enjoy them ♡) Masterlist

Every month, Motoya Komori, Sakusa Kiyoomi, and you meet up to catch up and enjoy each other's company. Surprisingly, despite the passage of time and the changes in your lives, you have managed to maintain your friendship well since high school. Your bond remains strong, bolstered by frequent chats in your group chat, where you exchange life updates.

Now you’re all in your late 20s, with you and Sakusa the same age, 27 years old, and Motoya a year older. Each of you is navigating your own unique path in life. Motoya Komori, always the cheerful one, shares his latest thoughts and plans. "Nothing much," he says with a grin, "just thinking about coaching some kids in my block." Then, he adds, "Mia thinks that’s a good idea too," his eyes light up when he talks about his wife, his smile widening. It's been a year since their wedding, and he’s never been happier. He met his wife during an open trip to Europe in his early 20s, a serendipitous encounter that changed his life forever.

Sakusa, on the other hand, often brings up his ongoing struggle with his fame. "I keep trying to decline gifts from fans," he admits, a hint of frustration in his voice. Despite his attempts to maintain some semblance of normalcy, his popularity often complicates things. 

It’s no wonder you think that Kiyoomi is popular among women. A single, talented man who looks dedicated to his career is bound to attract attention. People on the internet often compliment his looks too. Standing at 6’4” with a lean build, his black wavy hair adds to his appeal. You can imagine his struggle a bit—balancing his demanding career with the expectations and attention from fans and potential romantic interests alike.

As for you, you share your own challenges of juggling your main job with multiple side jobs. It’s a constant balancing act, trying to manage everything without letting anything fall through the cracks. Yet, despite the hectic schedule, you find solace in these monthly meet-ups, a reminder of the enduring friendship that has weathered the storms of life.

“Why do you have to do several jobs?” Komori asks, a hint of worry in his voice.

You chuckle lightly and start explaining the reality of life outside the athletic world. “Well, life actually works a bit differently for non-athletes,” you say with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. You go on to explain that you're still early in your career, and your current job is only a mid-paying one. “I need some more money to cover my living costs and to send some to my retiring parents,” you add, your tone growing more serious.

Komori listens intently, nodding in understanding. He realizes that while his career path as a professional athlete offers certain financial stability and perks, your situation requires juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet and support your family.

Komori agrees with your statement about the high living costs, even for him. You continue, “Well, now that I think about it, in this economy, for average people, I think marriage helps a lot in a financial way. I mean, by having two incomes in the household. If we didn’t put children into the equation, though, maybe.”

Komori agrees, “Well, maybe that’s true. But I don’t know much about that since my wife stays at home. But financials aside, having someone to come home to… I don’t know how to put it. But it’s less lonely and, y’know? Feels like someone always has my back no matter what.”

Sakusa interjects, “But you don’t have to get married, you know? You can just move in with your girlfriend.”

Komori shakes his head, “I don’t know, man. It’s a different sense of security.”

You chime in, “Ooh, I get it. Maybe it’s kinda like… all these paperwork you sign? So, it feels verrrry official?” You raise your eyebrow, prompting Komori to laugh.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just happy and secure. That’s all I feel,” he says with a contented smile.

You sigh and slam your hand on the table, “Man, I don’t even think about that. I just think it’s nice to split rent and chores with someone.”

Komori hums at your statement, then turns to Sakusa. “What do you think, Omi?”

Sakusa shrugs, “I just think being married makes it more convenient for me to politely decline some of the persistent and creepy fans.”

You chuckle, “Ha. Ha. Okayyy starboy. Totally not relatable.”

Komori adds thoughtfully, “Hey, in a sense, that applies to you as well in terms of being more secure when walking at night. Ward off some creepy men, y’know?”

You nod, a wry smile on your face, “Hey! That’s so fucking true. Pfft, I hate the world that we live in.” You sip on your drink, finding a moment of solidarity in the shared laughter and understanding.

“Okay. Now this conversation made me want to get married. But I can’t even afford a relationship right now. Trying to start a relationship is too urgh,” you say, scrunching your nose. “Too many steps to deal with. And don’t even talk about the emotional roller coaster! It’s just too tiring!”

You used to be a hopeless romantic at heart, dreaming of the day you would meet that one person, your prince charming. Falling in love so hard that your head feels dizzy, experiencing all those cute butterflies in your stomach, and seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses due to the happiness of love.

However, the idea seems more and more impossible as you grow older. Reality has hit you hard. Maybe it’s just bad luck, but you’ve never been lucky in your romantic life. It’s not like no one wants you; there are men who approach you. But the ones who do either don’t meet your standards or turn out to be douchebags when you try to get to know them better and pursue more, leading to frustrating situationships. It’s exhausting to be attached to them and constantly ride an emotional roller coaster.

Moreover, you can’t think of anyone or any way to meet someone new at the moment. You’re not keen on the idea of dating apps either, as you feel like you’re not that fun in chat, and it just feels too unnatural to meet someone new that way. Especially a potential lover. Damn all these standards you’ve set for yourself!

Sakusa speaks up, “I get that, and I don’t understand what girls want either.” Sakusa doesn’t usually talk much during your discussions, but he enjoys listening to you and Komori's thoughts. Right now, he finds himself agreeing with you on the topic. Everyone knows that Sakusa isn’t the most socially adept person. He doesn’t easily make new friends, despite knowing many people from all the training, practices, and matches he has been involved in. However, he can't exactly call them friends. That's why he treasures this friend group, even though one of its members is literally his cousin. It’s something he can describe as “cousins by blood but friends by choice.”

Given this, it’s not hard to understand why it’s not easy for him to have a romantic relationship either. He can be attracted to someone—he experienced it several times during his school days, having little “relationships” that lasted only a few months. But these days, it’s getting harder to form meaningful connections. Lots of girls try to approach him, fans and acquaintances alike. Some have piqued his interest, but nothing has gone beyond a few dates. So, he truly gets it when you say it’s tiring.

“What?! So you don’t understand me?” you exclaim.

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “No, I understand you. It’s different. We’ve known each other since high school.”

“Ha. Right,” you reply with a hint of sarcasm.

Komori is silent, looking at both of you intently. He clears his throat, “Hey, you know, right? There’s something called platonic marriage?”

Sakusa stares blankly. “What’s that?”

“I know!” you chime in. “It’s like you’re married, but you’re not actually involved romantically.”

“Oh. I’ve heard of them. Interesting, I guess,” Sakusa responds.

“Yeah. It’s like you can get the marriage benefits without having to deal with all the emotional roller coasters that relationships give you,” you explain.

“True. But it’s too creepy and risky, right? To marry some random strangers?” Komori folds his arms and laughs.

You give a distasteful expression and respond quickly, “Of course! I wouldn’t dream of it. If I ever wanted to do a platonic marriage, it would be with someone that I know quite well.”

The three of you suddenly become silent. Komori smirks at you and Sakusa.

“What are you even implying?!” you demand.

“Hey! It’s not crazy, though! You mentioned it yourself.” He makes quotation marks with his fingers. “It would be with someone that I know quite well.”

You widen your eyes. He’s right, you think. But still, it’s borderline crazy and something that never crossed your mind. Sakusa? And you?! Sure, you think he looks good. But then again, you’ve never considered any of your friends ugly! Moreover, you’ve always seen him as your friend since the beginning. Which… is actually the definition of platonic. It’s perfect! Shit… But Sakusa would never agree with this kind of thing… right?

You steal glances at him. Fuck. He actually looks like he’s thinking about it. It’s not the usual indifferent face he’s making. He’s thinking. Wow. Years of friendship really do give you the ability to differentiate his micro-expressions.

“Look. It’s just… an idea. A good idea, can I say?” Komori wiggles his eyebrows and smiles proudly. “Given you guys’ predicaments. It’s like the stars aligned, y’know? I’ll definitely support you guys. There. You guys have my blessing,” he laughs.

You and Sakusa exchange quick glances. He shows a lack of repulsiveness. Now that you think about it, this thing actually fits him. But does he really think it is a good idea?

“Some friends do make marriage pacts or whatever it’s called,” Komori adds.

Oh, right. You definitely have heard about that. Something like if we’re not married by the age of… we should marry each other.

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard something like that. But isn’t it complicated?” you ask.

“What would be complicated? It’s all for convenience, right?” Komori replies.

“That’s just insane, though…” you mutter.

You all go silent for a bit but then you try to change the topic and continue to talk about other trivial life updates. Other things that aren’t awkward and, again, crazy to think about. Your mind isn’t ready to handle the full visualization, especially with Sakusa right in front of you.

After another hour, you and the other two decide to head home. You still have to work tomorrow, after all. Urgh, the work thoughts on Sunday are the worst. These meet-ups with Sakusa and Komori always prove to be very recharging to your mental battery. You’re so glad to have this monthly meet-up with your two precious friends.

On your way home, you replay the conversation you had earlier about the platonic marriage and can’t help but think of how good of an idea it is. The words “financial” and “someone to come home to” ring in your head. Shit. You do often feel lonely in your apartment nowadays.

If you ever agree to do something like a platonic marriage, the idea of being married to Omi doesn’t sound bad at all. Your very dear friend since high school. Someone you’ve known for more than 10 years. Someone who knows your antics and vice versa. He can be a pain in the ass a lot of times, insensitive at times. But the good thing is that you can be blunt with him. He might be an ass, but he does always listen whenever you scold him for anything insensitive he does.

But anyway, it’s just an idea. It will be forgotten, right?

Spoiler: No, it’s not.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 1

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

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

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

Chapter Warnings: Not much in this first chapter. Some mentions of death and violence. I don't want to give away everything, but there are also some angsty mother/daughter moments, so be warned.

Word Count: 3468

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

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

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

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

The divider at the top and bottom were created by @saradika

Series Master List

Dean punched open the flap of the canvas tent that he'd called home for the last several years. Sometimes he really missed having a door to slam. 

Or a wall to punch a hole through, he thought as he tossed down his duffel bag full of weapons. At least the bag made a satisfying thunk against the plywood floor.

They'd lost three men on their latest raid. The raid was successful; they'd pilfered enough medication from a pharmacy in Omaha to see them through the next few months. But the reason it was the only pharmacy within a two hundred mile radius that had any meds left, was because it also happened to be Croat central. 

It was swarming with the bastards. His soldiers had done a good job holding them off, but it had eventually led to ground fighting and three soldiers had been bitten. He'd put them down quick and quiet. But it made for a long drive home.

Home, he scoffed as he dropped onto the side of his cot. Home my ass.

As he rubbed his hand across his forehead, his tent flap opened again. He also missed privacy.

One of the soldiers that had been left behind to protect the camp, stood awkwardly for a moment before Dean barked at him. 

“Not now, Johnston.”

“Uh…” the man hemmed and hawed for a moment more. “There's a…an urgent situation, sir.”

Dean let out a huff. “There's always an urgent fucking situation. I said ‘not now’!” Dean's voice was sharp and angry. All he wanted was five minutes.

Used to having his orders obeyed, especially when they were issued in his harshest tone, Dean turned away and started to light the lamp beside his cot. Before he could spark the match however, Johnston was clearing his throat annoyingly.

“Jesus Christ, what?” Dean snapped.

“I'm sorry, sir…but Castiel, well he…he has a…a situation with a woman.”

Dean’s glare could melt ice. “What woman?”

“I think…he wants - he said he wanted to see you as soon as you were back.”

Dean ground his teeth together and tossed down the matchbook. He gestured angrily for Johnston to lead the way.

He followed the timid man through a maze of tents, aware of the eyes that followed him. He was used to that feeling. People in the camp always looked at him like that - with a mixture of awe and fear on their faces. To most of the survivors he was a little bit legend, a little bit savior, and a whole lot scary.

He was always given a wide berth.

But something more was in the air today. The evening breeze seemed to be buzzing with whispers that followed him up the stairs and into the main hall. It was one of the only wooden structures in the camp, and definitely the biggest. It was where they all gathered together when they needed to. 

He pushed through the squeaky door to find the angel standing in the middle of the room, just in front of one of the dozen massive, twenty-person, metal tables that had been constructed for large group projects like bomb making, or supply divvying. 

Dean tried to look past Cas when it became obvious there was a person behind him, sitting on the floor. But Cas just shifted so he couldn't see whoever it was, which only made Dean’s scowl intensify. Cas held out his hands towards him. 

“Okay, Dean. now just listen.” 

Dean didn’t like the sound of that, or the placating tone the angel was taking. “What the fuck is going on here, Cas?” He tried again to peer around him at the person on the floor, but Cas shifted his footing again to keep them hidden.

“You have to…before you do anything, just,,,you have to look at her. Really look.” 

He moved out of the way slightly and Dean could finally see a woman sitting on the ground. Her head was bent and around her wrists were manacles connected to heavy chains that yoked her to the immoveable table. Dean was about to once again ask what the hell was going on when the woman looked up at him and he saw her eyes - saw the perfect, blood red circle around her iris. 

Dean’s razor sharp instincts reacted without conscious thought, and his gun was out of his thigh holster and cocked, with his finger ready to pull the trigger in under two seconds. It was only Cas jumping in front of the woman again that managed to just stop him firing.

But Dean kept his gun pointing at the woman’s head, even though it was now hidden on the other side of the angel's body. 

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He bellowed at the man who used to be his best friend, back when he still had friends. “She’s infected! Get out of the fucking way!”

Cas had his hands up again and was shaking his head. “No, Dean, look at her. Yes, her eyes show she should be infected, and yes she was bitten, but…just look at her. She’s not infected.”

Dean’s jaw ticked with his fury. “Yeah well, give it a couple hours and she’ll be strong enough to bust those fucking chains. Now, move!” He roared again. 

But Cas took a step backwards, closer to the woman on the ground. “No, it’s been days.” He looked over his shoulder. “Right?”

The woman’s voice was soft. “Almost a week.”

Dean scoffed. “Bullshit!” He shouted, unable to believe the angel’s naivete. “She’s lying.”

Cas was shaking his head and looking at Dean again. “Her arm, where she was bitten, it’s healed up.” He called back to her. “Hold your arm out.”

The chains rattled and Dean saw a slightly grubby arm stick out from behind Cas’ legs. Sure enough there was a bite on the outside of her forearm that looked pretty much healed. Dean felt something uncertain shift in his belly, but he shook it off. He knew better.

“So she’s a quick healer. She’ll still turn into a monster sooner or later. Now. Move.” He gave Cas a glare that had made lesser men crumble. But the angel refused.

“No, Dean, this might be something huge.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but the woman’s small voice spoke first. “Please. I just needed to get my daughter to safety.”

Dean leveled another glare at Cas. “Daughter?” He asked.

The woman continued speaking and Dean tried to see any part of her around Cas’ body. “We were living in the Billings camp near Piedmont, Emma and I. We’d been there just a few months when the camp was attacked. They lost a lot of people, and I got bitten. When the fighting ended and the Croats were all dead, the leaders started checking us all for bites. I knew they were going to kill me and I understood what had to happen, but I wanted them to promise Emma would be safe, but they wouldn’t.”

Dean’s hand had lowered slightly, enough that Cas shifted aside again so Dean could see the woman talking. There were tears falling from her bloodshot eyes and she lifted the heavy chains so she could wipe them away before continuing.

“She'd fallen on some debris in the mess, long after the Croats had been put down, and she had a scratch on her leg. They were sure she was infected too. But she’s not.” She shook her head vehemently. “They were going to kill her. I…I couldn’t let them. So I shoved them down, fought them off, grabbed Emma and ran. We’ve been running for almost a week. I’d heard about this camp, so I headed this way. I was terrified I was going to change before I could get Emma to some semblance of safety. But…it just never happened.”

She shrugged and shifted slightly. Her movement brought the barrel of Dean’s gun back up a fraction of an inch. She stared at the pistol for a moment and then caught his eye again.  “I just wanted somewhere for her to be safe. I understand that you want me dead. I’m…” Her throat caught and she closed her eyes and took in a deep, steadying breath. “But….” She opened her eyes again and a slight smile curved her lips.

“You don’t…you probably don’t remember me, but a long time ago - I was barely sixteen - you…you saved me.”

Dean knew he must not have hidden his surprise very well when her smile deepened. It occurred to Dean in that moment that she was really, remarkably beautiful, in spite of the dirt and the bloodshot eyes.

“My family I mean,” she continued, “you saved my family. You and your dad. We lived in Wichita at the time. We had a poltergeist. It was…it was cutting me. It carved words into me.” She put a hand on her stomach. “Words like ‘vengeance’ and ‘death’.” 

She shook her head. “I was so terrified. But you and John, you just swept in and got rid of the thing in a weekend. It was amazing.”

The long-forgotten case bubbled up in Dean’s mind. It felt separate from him, apart, as though centuries had passed in between, instead of a dozen years. But he remembered a young girl, a sweet kid with braces on her teeth and overwhelming fear in her eyes. He nodded. Yes, he remembered that smile now.

She wore it still as she shook her head and looked down. “It was a long time ago, a lifetime seems like, so I’m sure you don’t remember. But I still remember how Dean Winchester came and saved me.” She looked up at him again and her tears had returned. “So, I’m asking you to please, please save me again.”

Dean felt the same something as before, something that shifted in his gut, that felt tight and constricting. But he pushed it away and shook his head.

“You’re wrong, Y/N.” He said, as her name came back to him. He could see the surprise on her face. “I do remember you. I remember the poltergeist. I remember your family, your house. And I remember saving you.” 

He paused and let the memories retreat from his mind’s eye before he clenched his jaw. “But you’re right, it was a lifetime ago,” he shook his head, “and I’m not that guy anymore.”

He raised his gun and took a step forward aiming for a quick, straight bullet to the head, faster than blinking.

But as though time slowed down, he saw a blur of motion coming in from the side and several things happened at the exact same time. Y/N screamed and dove as far to the right as her chains would allow, Cas jumped forward to stop him, and Dean yanked his gun up at the very last millisecond before his finger flexed on the trigger, just as he saw the blur come into focus.

It was a sobbing, shaking little girl, in a tattered blue dress. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a braid and tied with a faded piece of lace. Y/N had leapt towards the child to shield her as the little one had flung herself in front of her mother. Y/N was now cradling her daughter in her arms.

Cas kept his hand like a vice grip on Dean’s shoulder where he’d grabbed him in an attempt to stop him. Though he wouldn’t have reached him in time. A feeling surged through Dean that he hadn’t felt in a long time as he breathed in and out harshly, as though he’d run a mile.

Two of his soldiers, Risa and Patrick, ran in seconds later, ashen faced and staring at the little girl. Dean yelled at them. “Why the fuck did you let her in here?”

Risa shook her head. “She got away from us.”

“Got away from you?” He continued to shout. “She’s a little girl!” 

When they didn't respond he gritted his teeth and spoke through them. “Why don’t you go see if you can handle all forty pounds of her this time.” He said, motioning with his gun for them to go get her.

As they moved to follow his orders he acknowledged what it was that had his heart beating triple time and his lungs unable to suck in enough air. 

It was fear. The forgotten, acidic taste of it was on his tongue. It had been a very long time since he’d been afraid of anything. But knowing he’d been less than a second away from firing a bullet into the body of an innocent, uninfected kid - that truth had him rattled. As did Emma’s heart-rending cries as she clung to her mother.

Risa and Patrick had reached Y/N, but looked hesitant to rip the child away from her mother. Y/N was pulling on Emma’s arms and she finally managed to unlock their death grip from around her neck. 

“Baby, shh.” She said softly as she brushed the little girl’s wispy hairs out of her face and cupped her ruby red cheeks. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re gonna be safe - “ 

Emma cut her off with a wail. “Noooo! Noooo! Mommy, I don’t wanna go.”

Y/N was shaking her head. “Hey, hey. No, sweetheart listen, listen to me. We made it here and now you’re safe.” She began nodding as Emma shook her head. “Yes, baby. Look at me, look at me, just breathe.” She said, and Emma began sucking in shuddering, choking breaths.

Y/N smiled and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “You are so brave. Okay? I just need you to keep being so brave. Can you do that? Hmm?” Y/N questioned, nodding even though Emma was shaking her head in denial.

Dean caught Patrick’s eye and gave a sharp nod towards the horrifying scene. He needed them to get the kid out of there. Patrick nodded back, but still didn’t move to take her. Dean seethed.

“I love you so much.” Y/N said, her voice breaking now, but she cleared her throat quickly and continued. “I love you bigger than big.” She was staring into her daughter’s eyes. “Bigger than big.” She repeated.

“And taller than tall?” Emma asked in a strangled voice, obviously repeating an often used sentiment. 

Y/N was nodding. “And taller than tall.” She confirmed. She gave her daughter a final smile of encouragement, her palms still clasped on her flushed, wet cheeks. “You - are my little angel.” She told her before pulling her against her chest one more time, trying to squeeze a lifetime of love into the small body she held.

Dean tried to keep his features in check as Y/N looked up at him. He wouldn’t bend. She needed to get her kid out of there. Y/N sniffed and pulled back from Emma. “Okay, baby. You need to go with…”

She looked up at Risa, obviously looking for a name. “Risa.” The soldier replied kindly.

Y/N gave her a grateful smile and directed her words up at her. “Go with Risa, she’ll look out for you.” It was obviously a question for the other woman, a plea. Risa gave a curt nod of agreement.

Emma was still sobbing as Y/N lifted her out of her lap and let Risa take her away. The little girl screamed and reached back for her mother and Dean saw the way Y/N flinched as she raised her manacled wrist and pressed her fingers to her lips before sending a parting kiss to her daughter.

As the child disappeared her screams still echoed, and Y/N slumped, covering her face, her shoulders shaking.

Dean swallowed down the feelings that tried to rise in him as he watched her weep. Every person who died left someone behind to grieve them. If they were lucky. And this situation was no different. Their camp had more than a dozen orphaned kids. Emma would be no different.

But as Y/N took a shuddering breath and looked up at him, he knew he was lying. Her words to Emma had resonated in his memory, pulling forth the image of his mother’s warm hands on his cheeks after he sought to comfort her, told her he loved her and would never leave her. 

“You - are my little angel.” She’d said, her voice full of love.

And another moment, in the dark, cuddled against his mother’s chest as she held him after a nightmare, just days before the fire. Her voice had been so gentle, so soft. 

“I know you’re scared, Dean, and that’s okay. Cause I know you’re so brave too. Can you show me how brave you are?”

Y/N’s last words to her daughter echoed some of the last words he remembered from his mother and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t affecting him. But as Y/N stared up at him, he tried desperately to shake it off. It changed nothing.

Y/N’s voice cracked as she tried to speak; she cleared it before trying again. “Thank you, Dean. For keeping her here, for giving her somewhere safe to be.”

Dean shook his head. “Nowhere is somewhere safe to be.”

He could see Y/N’s fear spring back up, and he shrugged. “But she can stay here, and have the protection of the camp. For whatever that’s worth.”

Y/N nodded and closed her eyes. “Thank you.” She repeated in a whisper, and then, without opening her eyes, “I’m ready.”

Cas gripped his shoulder again. “Dean, don’t do this.” He said, his low voice barely a whisper.

Dean shrugged off his hand and stepped closer to Y/N, close enough that he couldn’t possibly miss, so that it would be instant and painless.

He felt Cas’ disappointment and anger looming over him as he extended his arm. The muzzle of the gun was less than two feet from its target. Dean cocked it again and felt his stomach swoop at Y/N’s soft, quick inhale.

His finger caressed the trigger, a breath away from pulling it when from nowhere his little brother’s voice floated into his mind, a snippet of conversation he hadn’t thought of in almost a decade - from the first time they’d ever seen the virus.

“You know I’m gonna ask you why.” Sam had said, referring to the man Dean had left alive.

“Yeah, I know.”

“So, why? Why didn’t you do it?”

He hadn’t answered his brother then; he’d been too embarrassed to say that there had been something in his soul that wouldn’t let him shoot someone who wasn't yet a monster, even if it seemed inevitable that they would be.

But now, that same creeping feeling, that same cloying sense of wrong was pulling at his soul again. It shocked him and angered him that his soul was still capable of this dithering - this pansy-assed wavering - when his head knew without a doubt what had to be done.

With the same sick, frustrated feeling, however, Dean felt his arm drop. “Dammit.” He growled, just as he had then.

He backed away and saw Y/N’s eyes pop open, saw relief flood them just before he turned and stormed away. He barreled out of the cabin and heard Cas shout after him. But he kept marching forward, trying to get himself far away from the memories that had come there to haunt him. 

But with every step away from camp, with every inch he walked into the surrounding forest, his mother and brother’s faces became clearer in his mind until he finally just stopped abruptly. Giving a shout of pure fury, Dean pointed his gun at the dead leaves on the ground and unloaded his clip into the moist earth.

He was panting, teeth clenched, as he sensed someone approaching. He whirled around, instinctively pointing his empty gun towards the noise. But he immediately put it down when he saw it was Cas. 

Instead he walked up to him and shoved the angel backwards; though even with his powers gone, he didn’t move very far.

“Don’t fucking follow me.” Dean growled at him.

But Cas just stared at him and then a smile spread across his face. Dean scowled thunderously. “What the fuck could you possibly be smiling about?”

Cas shook his head and shrugged. “I just… thought he was gone, but he’s still there. Haven’t seen him in a long time.’

Dean’s expression was confused and pissed. “Thought who was gone?”

“My friend - Dean Winchester. I thought he was well and truly gone.” He repeated. “But it’s so good to see him again.” The angel’s brilliant blue eyes were beaming so bright, they almost seemed to be alight with grace once more.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@akshi8278

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[shad0wvisi0n]

Chapter 2 Connection

AU Created by @b-r-i-n-g-x and @shygirl4991 All art belongs to the rightful artist do not repost Artist for chapter @b-r-i-n-g-x @merp0515

Shout out to @lizaluvsthis and @theartistisme43 our other assistant

Next Chapter Last Chapter

Liko Studies Page 1 Liko Studies Page 2 Side Story Your guardian (Read after this chapter!)

Tags: Fluff, angst, humor, found family, falling in love, love confessions, slow burn, blood, injury,

SV4 sighs sitting on a chair while Liko starts taking readings, she hums as she gets up taking some of his blood. SV3 looked up from his notebook to peek at what was going on, seeing this SV4 rolled his eyes “She is just seeing our TV world connection, it's nothing too interesting.” SV3 mouths out an oh before going back to doodling. Liko nods looking at the readings, then turns to free’s SV4 who went running to his PSP that was left on the table in the lab. “It seems the moment SV3 was created a new connection was formed, i'm going to call this a network connection given your power source.” 

SV4 scoffs as he turns on his system “Network connection? What do I need a wifi password in order to connect with SV3?” hearing this SV3 giggles  “Could my password be something clever?” Liko sighs, staring at the pair. She gets up smacking her clipboard glaring at them, SV3 frowns looking down “Sorry Miss Liko.” She turns to SV4 waiting for any kind of reaction, the man just keeps playing on his PSP with no care. She sighs looking at the chart, since SV4 was made first he has more power then SV3. Their connection towards each other is just being made, seeing so far how SV4 is acting made the women worry that the pair wont get along. 

SV3 walks up to SV4 and taps on his hat “Come on, I need to talk to Mr. Puzzle and your stream is about to start!” With a sigh he gets up following his partner out of the room, never looking away from his PSP. She looks at the chart nervously “The connection shows a strong attachment from SV3 side…what could this mean when SV4 has nothing.”

SV3 smiles softly at the man next to him “So what's the game on the agenda to stream?” SV4 nods as he finishes a boss fight. They both keep walking until SV4 speaks up “Was thinking Resident Evil four or something, what are you planning on asking Mr. Puzzle?”

SV3 takes out his notebook and hugs it “I want to ask Mr. Puzzle about Wednesdays! You know, I want to make my own videos for the channel!” that got the man to stop walking as he paused the game. He looks at his partner up and down, it's been a couple of days since the arrival of his other half. His fellow guardian showed a huge interest in shrek and seemed to be very feminine, beside those traits he never picked up on what exactly was the man's talent. SV4 gives an awkward smile “Uh you're staring at me...did i say something weird?”

SV4 shakes his head, he looks at the notebook before looking back at his partner's face “What is it you do?”

SV3 face lights up at the question “My pod has shown me all i need to know on latest fashion and make up styles! I want to make Wednesdays fashion days!” he jumps up excitedly. SV4 rolls his eyes as he goes back to playing games “Good luck convincing box head that it will work,” with that he walks into his room slamming the door shut. SV3 smiles at the door before getting serious and walks into Mr. Puzzles office, where the man was mumbling to himself as he edits SV4 latest video. SV3 softly knocks on the door to catch the TV man’s attention, he looks up at SV3,  screen changing to show a bright smile “AH! If it isn't the co-star of the show, how can I help you?” SV3 walks up to his desk slamming his notebook down. The screen flickers to show a quizzical expression, seeing this SV3 smirks “Mr.Puzzles i want to make content for the channel,” he opens the journal showing a design “I think making Shadow Vision 4 a variety channel will bring us more ratings!” 

He looks over the outfit for a moment before his screen changes to a neutral expression, SV3 was getting nervous watching the TV man looking over it. Mr. Puzzle wasn't a fan that he had to agree to create the man in front of him, but now he is aiming to go after the channel. An idea pops into his head, he closes the journal, his screen projecting a friendly expression hands over the journal “I think you might have something here, let's make a deal.” SV3 holds his journal close to his chest, nervously he nods “Alright, what's the deal?” Mr. Puzzle lets out a soft chuckle as he stands up. SV3 looks up as he watches the man walk back and forth “You must make the video not only hit more than five thousand views, which is child's play for SV4. But you must also convince your other half to be the model for that outfit of yours!” SV3’s eyes go wide before letting out a shaky giggle, he takes Mr.Puzzles hand and shakes it, sealing the deal. He walks out of the room and in a daze walks into SV4 room, the man was just finishing up the preparation for his livestream when he heard the door open.

He turns to see SV3 spaced, awkwardly he stands there waiting for the man to speak first. With a sigh SV3 grabs SV4's hand, confused he lets it happen as he watches the man give him a face of determination “I need your body!” SV4 blinks “Huh?” 3 smiles softly, letting him go and showing the notebook “I need a model, and you're the man for the job!” 4 turns and goes back to what he is doing. Seeing this SV3 frowns, he taps on SV4 shoulders and gives him puppy eyes “Please 4, it has to be you. Will you be my hero?” SV4 groans as he walks to the door, seeing this SV3 squeaks in joy and follows. The pair head out to the market place to find materials, as 3 ran around the store grabbing what he needed. SV4 was following behind playing on his gameboy, just because they are on a shopping trip doesn't mean he has to stop gaming. 

3 hums as he purchased everything, he then begins to explain his design as they walk home. Noticing that the man was starting to struggle holding the supplies, 4 scooped them away from him. SV3 looked at 4 surprised as he kept walking while playing his game, slowly the man frowned. The whole trip was him talking away with no reaction from his other half, he was starting to wonder if this connection he felt with the man was all in his head. The moment they arrived at the studio SV4 dropped the bags, then walked straight into his room closing the door. SV3 frowns as he picks up the bags, with a deep breath he walks to his room and begins to work on his design. He knew he couldn't slack on this project, he needed to throw everything he can into this. He looks at his laptop, he lets out a soft smile as he sees the channel page. He needs to remember why he is doing this and use it as motivation, he wants to show the world how amazing fashion can be. With a determined nod he takes out his supplies and gets to work. 

Mr.Puzzle passes by the man's room and peeks in,  he watches for a moment seeing the relaxed face that SV3 had while working.  His screen flickers showing an annoyed expression, with how relaxed and fast the man was putting things together he knew it was only a matter of time. He walks in making sure his screen shows a bright smile “Hello! I see you're hard at work,” SV3 looks up and smiles showing off his small progress “If i keep up the pace i should finish this in no time!” The television man nods looking up and down. His screen changes to show concern “While I see you doing amazing work, i have to say i think you can pull off better.” SV3 frowns looking at his drawing then the fabrics he got, he then shakes his head “It’s at the starting stage, don't worry Mr. Puzzle I won't bring shame to the channel!” He gives a determined face to the man. Causally he nods giving a comforting pat on his back “Well if you ever need a place to think, i like to go to Peach castle. It’s where my first big show happened, gives lots of inspiration looking at the place!” He walks out of the room leaving SV3 to think over what he was told. 

SV4 relaxes as he leans back in his chair finally playing resident evil 4, he was doing a resident evil marathon to bring more attention to the channel. It’s been a success so far, while the channel got more subscriptions, he got more games to play and nothing can beat that. He lets out a sigh as he finishes the current section and starts organizing his inventory,  after the fight with U-3 he was left with little ammo due to reckless mistakes and wasting of ammo. He sighs and takes a sip of water that SV3 brought him, he wasn't sure how long ago the man brought the water but was thankful for it.  As he kept walking and collecting items it started to click to him something wasn't right.

He blinks, staring at Krauser, his reaction time was slow and messy. His face became bright red, the heat from his blush was getting to him. SV4 pauses the game, his mind racing at the sight of the character, he takes a deep breath doing his best not to focus on the man being shirtless. He unpauses the game ignoring the chat asking if he was feeling okay, he attempts the fight only to feel himself go red again at the sight of the man's chest.  “Fuck…” he wasnt sure what was wrong, frustrated he decided to say he was feeling off and ended the stream. He sat there in the dark confused, he battled Krauser fine in the quick time events. He threw himself on the bed thinking it over, at that moment the picture of the shirtless man came up. 

Feeling the heat return to his face he gets up in a panic, he charges out of his room to splash water on his face. SV3 heard the door slam and left his room to investigate, concerned, he slowly walked to the bathroom “Everything okay?” he can hear the water running and annoyed grunts from his partner. After a few moments the door opens “I’m dying because of a shirtless man.” SV3 frowns seeing how miserable SV4 looks, he reaches out to give comfort to his partner. Only to get brushed aside as SV4 leaves the bathroom to go to the living area to retrieve his gameboy on the shelf, SV3 frowns leaning to the wall “SV4, you know you need to stop doing that.” He turns holding his gameboy confused, they stare at each other for a moment before SV4 rolls his eyes “What? Play games all day, are we having that talk again?” 

SV3 sighs looking at the floor “No, pushing me away. It feels like everything I do to get close to you, well you just brush me away. You didn't even thank me when I brought you water! Heck did you even notice?” SV4 rolls his eyes as he turns on his system “Yeah i notice, i spat the water out during that boss fight i was telling you about.” SV3 slowly blinks, staring at him confused “You spat water out for a boss fight? Not the point! Do you hate me?” SV4 starts the game and hums along with the title music for a moment “You haven't done anything for me to hate you, sorry i'm not the touchy guy you expect me to be. What? Do you want me to hug you and twirl you around like they do in movies?” SV3 could feel himself getting more angry at his other half. They couldn't get on the same page, taking a deep breath he walks away from SV4 to get some fresh air. SV4 sighs as he watches the man walk away, at that moment his gameboy shuts off. 

He mumbles getting more annoyed as he turns on the gameboy for it to shut off, with a sigh he goes to his drawer to look for batteries. His eyes go wide noticing he had run out of batteries “ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME I WAS JUST AT THE STORE!” He was so close to finishing the game, he needed to know how the game ended and needed to relax. Getting up he remembers SV3 getting batteries for his project, now on a mission he heads to SV3 room. He walks in the room and looks around, the room smells as if he walked into a flower shop. He had to admit the man had good taste in perfume, he walks in and passed the outfit in the middle of the room to reach the drawers. Opening the drawers he starts to toss items out of the drawer, as he tossed the items he doesn't notice them hitting the outfit in the center of the room. The almost complete outfit gets covered in ink along with rips from the items hitting it. 

SV3 lets out a sigh thinking over the fight, he wonders if he was being too harsh on his partner. The man can come off as cold but SV4 helped him on the shopping trip, he smiles remembering how he took the bags from him. He nods, keeping that moment in his head as he walks back. With a smile he walks towards his room to add the last touches of his outfit, hearing a loud thud, his hand freezes on the door handle. Nervous, he opens the door to gasp, the outfit he worked all night on was stained with ink and torn in several places. SV4 was in the room cheering at finding batteries for his system, SV3 slammed the door shut behind him catching the gamers attention. 

“THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?” 3 glared at the man, the anger in his eyes made SV4 nervous. Not only did his gentle partner just swear, his eyes looked ready to murder the man if he did the wrong move. “Uh i got batteries for my system, i didn't know i ran out.” SV3 lets out a dark chuckle as he points to the outfit “I MEAN MY FUCKING OUTFIT! IT'S DUE TOMORROW I SPENT ALL NIGHT ON IT, YOU RUINED IT!” Slowly SV4 turns and sees the project torn and stained. He lets out a nervous laugh as he looks at SV3 “Well…you're good at fashion I'm sure you can fix it in no time, I mean recording isn't hard!” SV3 clenches his fist holding back tears at hearing his words. He felt like an idiot for believing that his partner cared about anything other than games. He forces out a smile as a tear escapes his eyes “I see, no matter what I do…you just hate me and don't care what happens. Then I will do you a favor and leave!”  SV3 runs out of the room leaving SV4 standing there unsure how to feel about the events, he looks at the outfit again before shrugging. It's not like something bad is going to happen because of this, the man will get air then come back and all will be back to normal again.

SV3 starts crying as he walks into the woods, he wipes his tears as he remembers what mr.puzzle told him. With the location in mind he starts to make his way over, he was angry and hurt.  It didn't surprise him that SV4 didn't even make the effort to go after him, was there even a point to return to the studio. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking, all he knew was he arrived at the location. He sighs staring at the pit, he wasn't sure how this strange thing was going to help him but he stayed. “Oh weird pit, will me and SV4 ever get closer. I just want us to be friends, but whatever I do never works.” as he sighs he hears a strange growl behind him.  His eyes go wide as he slowly turns to see a beast, he gets up and swallows “Uh…hiya..Princess Peach, you're looking very heh beastly?” she lets out a high pitch roar. SV3 runs barely dodging the claw that slams into the ground, he breathes heavily looking around. His mind was racing as he started running to the woods, as he ran he felt pain in his right eye causing him to fall down. 

Mr. Puzzle walks to check on SV3 and notices the guardian missing, noticing the ruined outfit he walks to the TV area. There SV4 was staring at his gameboy, Mr. Puzzle walks up to “Ahem have you seen your co-star?” with a sigh he looks up and notices the time. Awkwardly he looks to the side “Think he said something about getting air,” Mr. Puzzle crosses his arms and frowns at the gamer “Get some air? Then what about the project, it looked like someone had a melt down!” SV4 looks down searching for an excuse, at the moment the screen on his gameboy started to glitch. He blinks looking closer at the screen, the words help appeared on it. His eyes go wide before a loud sigh catches his attention “SV4, weren't you the one that wanted a co-star? Yet you don't know where our fashion forward star is?” 

SV4 gets up and starts to walk away “I ruined the outfit, SV3 left to get air.” he then walks into his room and locks the door. Mr.Puzzles facepalms as he picks up the phone “Come when the sun is down Liko, SV3 seems to be missing.” He hears a thud over the line, after a few moments of silence Liko picks up the phone in a panic “WHAT DO YOU MEAN MISSING?!” SV4 groans hearing the loud conversation on the phone, this whole thing was his fault. He sighs before holding his head, he starts to hear white noise as his eyes lose their color. His eyes become static as the monitors in his room start to glitch out, there an image starts to appear. There he heard a panicked voice “Heh good Princess peach, um i could make you a super nice outfit?” the creature roars before the image disappears, color returning to his eyes. “SV3!” he covers his mouth for a moment, he presses his ear to the door. Slowly he opens the door and looks around, not seeing mr. puzzle around he drops his game boy and runs out the door. As he runs he attempts to connect to his partner, his eyes lose color as the static returns to them. He could feel something close as he turns following the strange pull,  there he finds a TV shop. 

Walking into the shop he gets close to a TV, a shopkeeper smiles and walks up to him “Ah good taste sir, this screen TV is the best one in the store!” as the man kept attempting to sell the television to 4 turns and glares at him. Seeing his static eyes gets the man to awkwardly smile walking away, then with a deep breath SV4 touches the TV. His hand gets sucked into the TV, looking around he nervously steps in. In a flash he was in the woods, rubbing his eyes, to get their color back. “Wow, Liko was not kidding about having guardian magic that was…strange.” SV3 landed on the ground hard dodging another attack, he felt a sharp pain on his ankles “No, oh no don't tell me i had to twist my ankle now!” Princess Peach roars, catching both guardian’s attention. SV4 sprints to the sound and catches SV3 on the floor struggling to get up, the creature raises a claw ready to end the long chase. “NO YOU FUCKING DON'T!” SV4 pushes himself to run faster, he knew if he doesn't act SV3 could be killed. 

Without thinking he stops running in front of SV3 taking the hit. SV3 covered himself getting ready for the hit, when he felt nothing he opened his eyes. There he saw a strange static liquid on the floor, he looked up, eyes wide to see SV4 giving a soft smile to him as he covered his right eye “You okay pumpkin?” SV3 blushes as he looks at the soft smile. He couldn't believe that SV4 found him, that he saved his life. Princess Peach lets out a high pitched shriek making 4 roll his eye, he turns getting in position to fight. SV3 gaps seeing the slash on his eye “SV4! How do you plan to win this with one eye!?” 

SV4 smirks “Watch and learn darling, then maybe you won't run as much next time!’ SV3 pouts doing his best to get up. Once up he takes the man's hand “We are partners, together let's put her back!” SV4 lets out a chuckle as he intertwined his fingers with SV3’s “For once let's do it your way, and dont think im doing this cause i feel bad about what happened. The pain and blood loss is just getting to me.” Both of their eyes slowly lose color as they turn to the creature, SV4 smirks as he feels the familiar energy come back. “Heh this feels better then when i was alone, shall we teach this bitch a lesson?” SV3 nods going along with SV4. Feeling the energy flow he looks around “Fuck we dont have something to lock on to!” 

SV3 felt the pain return to his eye, he was about to close his eye when he noticed something “SV4! There is something hidden over there!” he turns confused “I don't see anything?” annoyed he pulls SV4 to the spot. Princess Peach roars as she charges after, SV3 then picks up a piece of a keyboard. SV4 looked at it surprised, “Whoa good eyes, looks like this keyboard has TV world energy.” Having no time to question why the object was here  the pair focus their power on it, the keyboard melts changing shape. Together they blast the princess back causing her to fall back into the hole, they watch as the creature vanishes from their sight. SV4 falls to his knees holding his eye, SV3 quickly picks him up “We need to leave if we don't hurry you can lose that eye!” he nods letting 3 support him. They pair hurry back to the studio. As they walk SV3 lets out a soft smile “Thank you for saving me and…risking your life for me.” SV4 looks down thinking over everything. Nervously he drops his walls “I lived weeks alone…i know what life without you is like. The thought of you being in danger and I could lose you, being alone again I just couldn't let that happen.”  SV3 blushes holding the man closer, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Was this what adrenaline feels like, it was a strange feeling and he knew it was the only thing keeping him walking.

They stay silent as they make it back to the studio, they hear a loud gasp and see Liko run up hugging them. “You idiots!” as she pulls back she notices SV4 eye “Quickly take care of that, go into your pod fast to prevent a scar.” The pair nod as they go to SV4 room. He lets the man sit on the bed as he leaves the room to retrieve a first aid kit, SV4 looks at the floor waiting for his partner and notices his gameboy on the floor. He picks it up and sighs “Thanks to you this all happened you know,” he then puts it in the drawer next to his bed before his partner returns. SV3 returns and moves SV4's hand to start taking care of the wound he then smiles at SV4 as he puts on the eye patch “You know…you really were a hero today.” SV4 chuckles touching the eye patch “Yeah i doubt that, i'm the reason you got in this mess.” SV3 presses his forehead against SV4 “Shh we all make mistakes, so let me thank my hero.” Before SV4 could ask any questions SV3 gently touched his face and placed a soft kiss near his eyepatch.

SV4 blushes, staring at his partner surprised “Get in your pod, we can't have our main star with a scar!” SV4 frowns looking at his pod as SV3 leaves the room. Getting up he stares at his pod, did he deserve to use his left over power to heal himself. He caused everything, not to mention the outfit was due in a couple of hours. Without it SV3 wouldn't be able to join him, he touches his pod “I want you to help me, pod is there anything i can do to fix this mess i did  for 3?” The screen starts to leak, SV4 looks at the liquid and touches it. The liquid starts to take form and transform into rats, he blinks for a moment “Well fuck, guess im a one eye disney princess.” He opens the door to see Liko, still upset and talking with SV3, knowing that will keep them busy. He and his new rat friends charge into the SV3 room “Okay clean the mess up, i will go find the fabric. He was gushing about all the steps when we were shopping, thank the static for that.” 

He pushes himself to make a portal to rush the shopping, he was being risky using his power when he was weak. But today showed him that taking risks might not be all that bad, as he makes it back he laughs seeing the outfit without stains “Yesss!” taking out the fabric he gets to work. He was annoyed with all the pricks he was giving himself “Ugh why didn't you pick a hat,” he hums trying to fix the rips the best he could. He let out a sigh of relief when he finished it, he walked around the outfit making sure there weren't any extra holes on it.  With a cheer he gives the rats a high five before guiding him back to his room, he touches the screen making it open up as they go in. He nods as he makes his way back to SV3 room “It’s midnight cinderella, your rats are gone and now you must wait for the prince to find you.” he lets out a yawn wondering if a nap wouldn't hurt after all the work he did. 

SV3 opens the door and gasps seeing SV4 asleep on his bed and the outfit fixed, he walks up to the sleeping man and gently wakes him up. Once he saw the man's eye open SV3 frowns “Did you really pick an outfit over your eye?” SV4 gets up and yawns “No, I picked your dream over my eye. Look i can admit i fucked up big time, who cares if i get a scar. What matters is getting you on our channel, so let's get to work.” SV3 smiles, giving him a nod as he runs to get the camera. SV4 changes into the outfit and looks at himself, he already regrets the choice he made. He leaves the room only to get a surprise when SV3 puts a sticker on his eye patch “You need my logo so the viewers know it's my channel, so I made this real fast!” 

SV3 holds up the camera as SV4 attempts a pose, he can hear the man talking about the outfit. He sighs every time he turns to do another pose, SV3 giggles cheering SV4 on only to get a glare in return. SV3 made sure to explain the eye patch was a fashion statement,  4 had to admit he likes how fast thinking his partner can be. 

Once he was done he ran to the computer to start editing, he started to feel himself panic at the time. “Oh no i won't be able to edit this in time!” that's when a laptop was placed next to him, SV3 started confused at SV4 “You think i'm leaving you alone now? Let's make the perfect video.” with a nod they boys work together to get the video edited and posted on time. Mr. Puzzles wakes up from his charge to see the boys staring at the monitor intensely, he gets close and sees the number of the video skyrocket. The boys cheer when the numbers hit the goal “We did it! I’m in!” Mr. Puzzles was surprised that together the pair managed to score so many views and likes over an outfit. He chuckles, pleased with the new information “Congrats! I knew you had it in you, we must celebrate!” Mr. Puzzle can feel himself getting excited at the site of the star meter being filled. The more attention the channel gets, the closer puzzle vision can return. With one last chuckle he leaves the room to get things ready to celebrate. Once the TV man was gone SV4 pulls SV3 into a hug giggling “WE DID IT!” they both giggle as SV4 twirls with 3 in his arms. He then lets go of SV3 who was still giggling, they stare at each other for a moment before 4 lets out a shaky breath “We need to talk.”

They walk outside as SV4 looks up at the sky “I’m sorry I caused this whole mess, I'm not… I just ugh i don't know what I'm saying.” 3 walks up to 4 concern. He places a hand on him only to be brushed away,  SV4 kicks a rock before he speaks “Talking to people isn't as easy as games, you have dialogue choices and games let you know which one is right. I spent weeks alone only talking to a stupid television and a scientist, they are nothing like you.”  SV3 takes a step back watching the other man's movements, he was getting lost in thought trying to figure out his next words carefully. The sunset shines on SV4 making the man look like he was glowing “SV3, i don't hate you. I also don't want you to take this the wrong way but…i do care about you, i never meant for you to feel unwanted. Cause SV3 i need you more than you know.” the feeling returns to SV3. He felt his face go warm as he heart pounded in his chest, he wasn't sure what the feeling was. The one thing he did know was he didn't mind the warmth it gave him, as SV4 kept looking up at the sky SV3 couldn't help himself from admiring the man. 

“I…i will never leave your side SV4, i promise you we will always be a team always!” shyly SV3 takes 4’s hand, they give each other a soft smile before agreeing to head inside to celebrate their victory.

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

Have you seen the latest MHA S7 OP ? The visual are so pretty, bkg has such a soft look! These days hori is drawing Katsuki with such smiling expressions so i wonder if bkg is going to have a change in personality like not being angry 24/7 etc what do you think ? His relation with izuku is definitely going to change but will deku accept this new soft side of kacchan?

Listen, my friend, and hear the gospel: Katsuki has always been soft.

Katsuki is known for bolstering his tough guy, shit-talking side, yes, absolutely. But his tough side and his soft side do not contradict each other, they complement each other. He is not suddenly not the guy who explosively roars or tells people off just because he's more comfortable showing himself to be thoughtful, reliable, considerate, compassionate, loyal, and selfless. He is still ferocious, ambitious, self-confident, and smug--a sore winner if there ever was one.

Hell, you see this on clear display in his fight against AFO. He's mocking that guy. Just utterly shitting on him. And it's fantastic.

Katsuki hasn't been "angry 24/7" since before Deku vs. Kacchan 2. I could quibble about how we're reading his character even earlier, but this point inarguably marks a change for him. We're now on chapter 421; the series is not over, but just those 301 chapters since DvK2 represent over 70% of its length. Even cutting the 40some chapters he was down for the count still allots us at least 60% of the story featuring some softer, more introspective, less combative flavor of Kacchan than what we began with.

I'm not trying to criticize you, anon -- but I do want to point these things out, because I think people underestimate and misread this kid sometimes. Don't buy into his bluster wholesale!

We're seeing Katsuki at his most comfortable, right now. We're seeing his truest self. He is allowing people to see the softness he has always had inside him, and I love it.

But Katsuki has always been and will always be feisty, snarky, and a little contrarian. He's always gonna roast the people he cares about for being thick-headed or careless or making his life hard. And then he's gonna be there for them anyway, which is what he's done for Izuku all this time.

As for how Izuku is gonna receive him, I have no doubt whatsoever that Izuku will beam at him with joy, satisfaction, and the occasional awe. He has accepted Katsuki as he is ever since DvK2, happy to be by his side to watch him better himself and then chase after him. They have been getting more and more comfortable with each other, working together, planning together, talking casually together.

I don't think their relationship is going to change much, other than the ways they are going to let each other in more. And gosh, what a joy that would be to see, huh?

It's all gravy from here on out, man.

Also the opening fucking rocked, and I absolutely yelled when I saw explody boy doing his fourth-wall-breaking gentle gaze at the camera. Izuku is very lucky to be the one those eyes land on more often than not, and he's superfan enough to be grateful even if he's not particularly self-aware!!!

[outermaybanks]

Out of the Woods - ch. 1

a/n: this is the first chapter of an oc x jj maybank fic that i've been writing for a while, its essentially a rewrite of OBX with my oc in it, but i plan to make aus and oneshots for it. this is a slowburn, childhood best friends to lovers (i can't help myself i love this trope)

faceclaim for junie

next

“That’s what, a three story fall to the deck? I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival.” Pope said, just as JJ opened a can of beer, handing it to me as I used the guard rail to swing my body to sit beside him on the ledge. John B was above us, precariously walking on the roof. I took a sip of the beer and watched as John B licked his finger to test the wind, making me shake my head with a giggle.

“Should I do it?” John B asked.

“Yeah, jump.” Pope encouraged sarcastically. “I’ll shoot you on the way down.”

“You’ll shoot me?” John B questioned before making finger guns at Pope

Kie came out from inside, complaining about the luxurious house development we were currently trespassing in, and how it used to be a turtle sanctuary. “Can you please not kill yourself?” Kiara called up to the boy pretending to walk a tightrope.

“Do a flip,” I called out with a laugh.

“You wanna see a flip, Junie? I’ll show you a flip.”

“Don’t spill that beer. I’m not giving you another one.” JJ scolded.

I rolled my eyes as I took another drink, only to flinch and almost spill my beer on myself at the sudden sound of a can hitting the ground. “‘Course you did, like right when I said-” JJ complained, making me giggle as I took a sip of my beer. I grimaced, never really like the taste of beer, but it was better than nothing. 

“Security’s here!” Pope called, tapping the railing. JJ was up the fastest, and I grabbed the railing to pull myself back up. JJ jumped down then held his hand up for me to grab as I jumped down. It was practically second nature at this point.

We all started running, trying to avoid the security guards as we hopped fences and quickly made our way back to the Twinkie. Pope opened the sliding door and I dove in after Kiara, JJ right behind me, but he didn’t close the door, instead he held a beer out the open door for Gary, the rent-a-cop chasing us. 

“JJ, roll up.” I commanded, if anything, to give him something else to do.

“Whoo, yes ma’am.” JJ cheered as he reached into his bag

The Outer Banks, paradise on Earth. It’s the sort of place where you either have two jobs or two houses. Two tribes, one island. 

This is the south side or the cut. Home of the working class who make a living busing tables, washing yachts, running charters. The natural habitat of... drumroll, please...the Pogues. That's us. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish. Lowest member of the food chain. Okay. So, the downside of Pogue life is we're ignored and neglected. But the upside of Pogue life? We're ignored and neglected, which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want.

That's JJ, my best friend since the third grade. He's about as local as they come. Latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who made their living off the water. Best surfer I know. Just don't tell him I said that. Mild kleptomaniac and a future tax cheat.

The girl wrestling him for the blunt is Juniper, but she hates her name so we all call her Junie. Kooks call her Loonie Junie cause she can be a bit… much. Rumor around the cut is that we got our precious Junie after a punk rock band tour came to town. She definitely has a rockstar temperament. She’s the only one who can put JJ in his place, so we’d probably be dead without her.

And that's Kiara, or Kie, as we call her.  When not saving turtles or listening to Marley, or getting a dolphin tattoo, she hangs out with us. I'm not really sure why, though. Cause, she's a rich kid, actually. Her family owns The Wreck, this Outer Banks institution. Total cash cow with the tourists. You know, I'm not really sure how her parents feel about us. We all kinda have a thing for her.

And that's Pope, the brains of the operation... finalist for the Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. And the smartest person I know. Little bit of a weirdo. His father's this legendary character, Heyward. Anything you wanted on the island, Heyward could get for you. Now, I'm not sure Heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn't matter. He was a Pogue, just like the rest of us. So, that's my crew. 

And that’s me, John Booker Routledge. And this is where I live.

“Jeeb, your bread has mold!” I shouted.

“So go get some more.” John B said, making me jump, not realizing he was so close. “Why are you awake so early?”

“JJ needed the bed…” I said with a fake happy tone, making John B chuckle. “Have you seen my shirt?” I asked. I had slept in my bathing suit after the late night swim we had. 

“Think I saw JJ’s new friend wearing it.”

I groaned. “Great. Now I have to burn it. Whatever. I’m making a grocery run!” I shouted so the house could hear.

“Can you get some more chips?” Kie asked, sitting up. I leaned down to grab the blunt from her fingers and quickly took a hit before passing it back. 

I heard a door creak open. “Grab some pancake mix!” JJ’s voice called out.

“My bag is only so big!” I called back, struggling to get my shoes on. Pope was rubbing his eyes as I passed him, and I gave his head a loving tap as a goodbye before grabbing my skateboard and pushing the door open.

-

“So you gonna ride out the storm with us?” JJ asked, popping a chip in his mouth.

“Can’t. Mom pops xannies everytime it so much as rains, so someone’s gotta be conscious to be with Cody.”

“What about Theodore?” 

“In Chattanooga for the next two weeks.” 

“Why can’t you just bring him?”

“I’m trying to limit his JJ exposure.” I teased, turning the bag to grab a couple chips.

“What? Why?”

I gave him a pointed look. “You know why.”

“Is this because I let Taylor wear your shirt? I said I was sorry.” 

I rolled my eyes and slowly stood from the table.

“Oh I get it. Junie’s jealous,” JJ teased.

“In your dreams, Maybank!” I called over my shoulder as I walked towards the shack’s exit.

“How’d you know?” JJ called after me and I flipped him the bird until I was sure he couldn’t see me anymore.

You wouldn’t guess by how we talk to each other, but JJ was my best friend. He was the one who came up to me at the beach the day I met him and John B, asking if I knew how to surf. He wouldn’t admit it, but I knew he only came up to me because he’d noticed I didn’t really have any friends. Mom used to say I was too quiet, and people didn’t like that.

Cody was like me at that age, shy, quiet. I wondered if he too would one day reach his breaking point, and finally have the courage to scream. Cody’s my younger brother, technically half brother, but I never cared for technicalities. He was my brother, even if I hated his dad. My mom met Theodore when I was 6, and he moved in practically overnight. I think my mom saw him as our way out of the Boonies, the trailer park we lived in, but even with a cushy electrician job, his alcoholism pretty much secured our spot in that damn trailer park.

As you can imagine, a trailer in a hurricane isn’t the safest place to be. But it was home, and luckily, the walk to the water was far enough. But the walk to the nearest dock the morning after Hurricane Agatha was littered with debris, me and Cody cleaned up a bit until mom woke up. My cell had lost service, so I had no way of contacting the Pogues. 

After a while, mom came outside looking for Cody, apparently all the food in our fridge went bad, she had to go get some canned goods. I walked to the nearest dock, sitting down and dangling my feet just above the water. 

“Thought you had babysitting duty?” I turned my head to see JJ standing in the front of John B’s boat, coming my way, while John B steered. I smiled.

“Xannies wore off, mom took Cody to the grocery store because the damn storm knocked out our power.” I said as the boat pulled up. John B held his hand out to help me onto the boat, and I gladly accepted.

Next stop was picking up Pope. JJ liked to rattle off the names of boats, and what he knew about them, and I liked listening to JJ talk. As we came close the port next to Heyward’s, we started waving to the locals.

“Hi Miss Amy! You guys make it through?” John B asked.

“Still here!” Miss Amy called back.

“Did you see her look at me? She totally wants me,” JJ said as we sailed past her. I rolled my eyes and brought the blunt up to my lips to inhale.

“Junie, let me hit that,” JJ said, holding his fingers out.

“Wow, JJ, way to be forward. Take the girl on a date first,” John B teased. I was about to hand JJ the blunt but the two began wrestling. “Jesus Christ,” I shouted, running over to grab the steering wheel. “Seriously guys?”. After John B let go of JJ, he walked over to take back the wheel. We were approaching Heyward’s dock.

“Boo-woo! We have a safety meeting. Attendance mandatory. Krrch,” John B said pretending to be speaking into a walking talkie. 

“I can’t! My pop’s got me on lockdown,” Pope said.

“Booooo!” I said giving a thumbs down.

“Come on, man! Your dad’s a pussy. Over. Krrch,” JJ said, joining in on John B’s bit.

“Oh I heard that, you little bastard,” Heyward said, walking out onto the dock.

“Awww, he didn’t mean it, Mr. Heyward!” I called.

“We need your son,” John B explained.

“Yeah, and island rules. Day after a hurricane’s a free day,” JJ added.

“Who the hell made that up?” Heyward asked.

“Uhh, Pentagon, I think. We have security clearance. I have a card,” JJ answered, making me giggle.

“Y’all think I’m stupid?”

“I’ll do it tomorrow, I promise, tomorrow,” Pope pleaded.

“Hell no, you doin’ it right now.”

“Get in the boat,” John B whispered.

“Make a run for it, bro,” JJ added, and that was all the convincing Pope needed before he dropped the hose and ran to jump on the boat.

Our last stop was to pick up Kie, who was already waiting at the dock near her house with a cooler. She stole some of her dad’s beers for us. As we drank, the four of us sat on the front of the boat, until John B asked Pope to switch spots. JJ stood up and held his beer out so it would fly into his mouth, only he didn’t have the best aim.

“Asshole! You got it on my shirt.” I shouted, before pulling my shirt over my head, leaving me in my bikini.

“Yeah, take it off Ju-” JJ was cut off by the boat halting suddenly, the jolt caused me to fall to the floor with Kiara. “Jesus, Pope!” Kie called as she helped me up.

“Where’s JJ?” I asked, seeing he was no longer standing on the boat. “JJ!” I shouted, and up he came from the water.

“Ughhhh I think my heels touched the back of my head.” JJ groaned, causing me to let out a laugh in relief.

I leaned over the side of the boat to help JJ back on. “Pope, what the hell did you do?” JJ asked as he came aboard.

“Sandbar. The channel changed,” Pope answered, going over to the side to look around.

“Hey, I saved the beer though,” JJ said, holding up his beer bottle.

“Congrats, JJ,” John B said flatly.

“Guys, I think there’s a boat down there.” Pope said, and we all moved to try and see what he was seeing. I could see a sliver of muted white and immediately jumped into the water, the rest soon followed. We all dived under to get a look but we needed air, so we only got a glimpse.

“Did y’all see that? That’s a Grady-White. A new one of those is like 500 Gs, easy,” JJ said before we all started swimming back towards the HMS Pogue. “That’s a primo rig.”

“Yeah, that’s the boat I saw when I surfed the surge. Maybe it hit the jetty or something,” John B said, standing up.

“You surfed the surge?” Kie questioned.

“Yeah!”

“That’s my boy, Pogue style,” JJ said smugly, dapping John B up.

“Do we know whose boat that is?” Pope questioned.

“No. But we’re about to find out,” John B answered, opening the hatch to the anchor.

“Dude, it’s too deep,” JJ pointed out. I walked over to the edge to get a better look.

“Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ,” John B argued, pulling the anchor up.

“Well, I’m not resuscitating you. I’m just making that clear up front.”

“That’s fine.” John B walked towards the end with the anchor in hand

“John B…” Kie said softly, obviously unsure of what he was about to do.

“What?” John B asked with a laugh.

“Diver down, fool.” Pope said, making John B salute. “Diver down.” “Yeah he is!” JJ said before pushing John B into the water.

I hit his arm, making him turn to look at me.

“You could have messed up his breath!” I scolded, and JJ rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm around my shoulder to pull me into him. 

When John B resurfaced, he only found a hotel key, and he wanted to figure out whose boat it was, but Kie thought it was a bad idea, and wanted to report it, so we went back to the port to try and talk to the coast guard but they had their hands full, and wouldn’t talk to us, so we decided to try the hotel. I followed JJ as he tied us down to a post and prepared to go in with John B while the rest of us kept watch.

“Hey, don’t let him do anything stupid,” Pope said, pointing to JJ.

“Oh, we will,” JJ replied nonchalantly, I gently hit his arm. “Can you be serious for like 5 seconds?” I questioned and he shrugged in response.

“I’m not making promises,” John B agreed.

“Be careful, I mean it,” Kie said softly, handing the motel key to John B.

I made a teasing face of surprise to Pope as I walked past the two to get back in the boat. I watched with bated breath as the two boys ran inside.

©outermaybanks 2024

[girlygguk]

fame - jjk (four)

pairing ; idol!jk x idol!oc

synopsis ; christmas has come early this year when park dae-jung scores siren a chance to promote their latest single on a music show. the girls are excited to perform, hanna is wholeheartedly convinced this is going to be their breakthrough, and aera runs into two police officers coming out of the bathroom.

previous chapters ; prologue | one | two | drabble1 | three | four | five

warnings ; explicit language

content ; how aera & jk met, dope era bts <3, the start of it all!!

word count ; 4.2k

a/n: so i know (award)shows are not exactlyy like how i describe them in the story but lets ignore that <3 also it's 2015 in this chap but jk & aera are 18 bc u wont catch me writing abt minors !!

a/n 2: so sorry for there being an insane wait on this chapter!!! next one will be coming way sooner as i split it in half bc i wanted to hurry and give an update!! not long until we're in the main timeline and get to the jaera juice!! tysmm for reading 💓

📅 March 2015 — 3 months before their call...

📍 PARK ENTERTAINMENT Building

"Oh my god!" Han-na's scream grabs me by the throat, dragging me out of my deep, dark, peaceful hibernation. My body jolts upwards with a groan, my eyes struggling to adjust to the light as I try to blink myself to life.

On the other side of our cramped dorm room, Ha-Joon is also coming to consciousness, her dirty blonde hair clinging to her pillow when she rises as if it's trying to haul her back down. "What the—" Joonie is cut off before she can finish her sentence, another wail from Hanna ringing in our ears.

I'm quick to shove the blanket off my body, jumping off my bed with a huff and dashing out of the room. I hear a soft whine behind me, our maknae reluctantly following my actions and trailing after me.

I slam open the door of Hanna and Nali's shared room, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion when all I'm met with is an equally groggy Nali. She's pushing herself off her mattress, no doubt on her way to finding the source of the scream as well. I turn on my heels and head for the last unexplored dorm, twisting the handle and stifling a laugh when Asami comes into view. She's sprawled out on her bed, a baby blue sleeping mask covering her eyes, and soft snores passing through her lips. She's fast asleep while our leader is possibly being brutally murdered. Shame. 

I leave the room with a shake of my head, the two blondes snailing after me down the hall as I follow the sound of our eldest's voice towards the office. My pace increases when I hear the tone of a male voice too. Please be getting beat to a pulp right now, Hanna, because if I walk in on you getting freaky in our shared office, I swear to god—

The creak of the door pulls me out of my submerged mind, and an enormous breath of relief leaves me when all I'm greeted with is an ecstatic leader and our Producer-Director, Park Dae-Jung. Smiles adorned both faces, our director standing tall in black slacks and a navy blue button-up, looking like he was halfway through his day already, whereas I was currently leaning against the door for support. My sisters and I sported similar outfits, pyjama shorts and simple tees—except for Hanna, of course. The early bird was dressed in a cropped singlet, her belly button poking out just above the waistband of the grey sweatpants that coated her long legs.

Relief washed over our huddle of three when our worry for Hanna's safety disappeared. Joonie wastes no time, spinning promptly on her heels and retracing her steps directly back to bed. Her eyes are basically shut as she walks, muttering something about it finally getting to the good part of her dream.

Hanna's "wait!" causes a giggle to bubble in the base of my throat, watching as our youngest stops in her tracks before letting out a muffled cry. "She's gonna make us start practice early! Look at what she's wearing, aiiiiiishhhhh!" She wails before being as dramatic as ever and stamping her sock-covered right foot against the ground.

The cackle that left me was loud, overpowering Nali's breathy laugh as she grabbed the hand of our maknae, hauling her into the office with us. I pulled Joonie towards me, wrapping my arms around her waist, and she leaned her head on my chest as we returned our attention to the slumber-ruining villains in the centre of the room.

I take a quick glance at the clock on the wall behind Hanna, and I almost start crying along with Ha-Joon. It's 6:15; we shouldn't be starting practice for nearly two hours. If she even begins to head towards that room, I will be leaving the group effective immediately.

"No, practice will start as scheduled," she rolls her eyes, "but Dae Jung-nim just surprised us with amazing news!" We stare patiently at the girl shaking like a chihuahua, our director turning towards us with a similar grin. Joonie untangles herself from me, and our tired trio deliver a quick bow to him in greeting.

"We're promoting on Inkigayo!" My mouth dropped as I stared at our leader that towered over us, turning my head to look at the girls standing next to me to see they were sporting similar shocked expressions. 

Our director was leaning against the table in the middle of the office with an easy smile, waiting for our reactions. My eyebrows furrowed, "I thought—"

Dae Jung-nim was quick to cut me off, "Times have changed, and we managed to secure you guys a slot. I know you might not want to promote there after they pulled a few of the debut stages, but..."

My sisters and I shook our heads, easing his worries with wide eyes and wider grins, "are you kidding? We would love to!" 

I could physically see the relief wash over him as I spoke, and I think he was downplaying how hard it was to get us on the show. Our director has been in the business for many years and acquired a lot of connections throughout his career. We are 1/2 of Park Dae-Jung's remaining active groups. Well, active-ish. 

Our male seniors, Poison, last had a group comeback almost two years ago now, most of them pursuing solo music and acting projects. They've been around since 2009 and were hugely influential for us as growing trainees, often mentoring us on their days off. Dae Jung-nim is like our Dad away from home, and while I still have vivid memories of him causing ex-trainees to break down in tears, I've come to see his sweet side. He's a big softie, really.

"I'm glad to hear it, girls. The more opportunities we have like this, the more the world will get to see your talent." He nods, hands clasped together humbly. Hanna is oozing with excitement as she jiggles on the spot whilst my other two sisters and I thank the lofty man with sleepy but ample smiles.

"All the info is here," he taps the thin file perched on the desktop, "and I've given Han-na a brief run-over."

My sisters and I part like the red sea as he pats Hanna on the shoulder before heading towards the office door. He flashes us one last sparkling grin before leaving the room, and Nali is the first to break the silence. "The things I would do for and to that man..." She sighs dreamily, head slumped against the wall to her left, and I swat at her arm teasingly.

"God, I'm so excited!" Our leader chirps, ignoring her roommate's crude remark, "This will be our breakthrough moment!"

Spoiler alert, it wasn't.

Suddenly, Joon brushes past me and treks further into the office towards the desk our promo file is sitting on, and I assume she's just going to peruse through it for a bit. I watch in interest as our youngest ignores the file entirely, her hand stopping over Hanna's phone that rests next to the folder. She taps the screen with purpose, the device blaring a painful 6:20 AM at her before she bites back a snarl and heads for the door.

"So about that early practice—" Joonie cuts off Hanna's teasing with a screech, already halfway down the hall towards her comfy bed. Nali and I share a knowing look, our eyes slowly, so so slowly, shifting towards our leader.

"Just go already."

That was all we needed for the blonde and me to fast-track out the damn door and back to our dorms to salvage the rest of our sleep.

"I'm waking you up at 8 o'clock sharp!" Our leader's voice booms from the room we just left, Nali and I not even reacting as we part ways to our separate dorms.

The sound of Joonie's heavy breathing hits my ears as soon as I enter my room, and I chuckle in astonishment at how she fell back asleep within seconds. Then, suddenly, it all makes sense as I flop onto my bed. The warm, cozy cover hugs me as my head sinks into my soft, cool pillow. As the darkness engulfs me in seconds, all I can think about is how Joonie is a fucking genius.

Jang Han-na is a, if not the prime example of a perfectionist. She believes in planning, lists, sticking to routines and scheduling every waking moment of her life. She is a born leader, my longest friend, and I love the girl to death. I couldn't name a better fit for our mother bear title, truly. But at times like this, I can't help but imagine my hands wrung around her neck. Not in a sexy way. You know when you're trying to stop the air from entering someone's lungs? That type of way.

It's been four days since our director graced us with the delightful news that we're going to be able to promote our latest lead single on Inkigayo. If you told me that right now, we'd be on our sixth hour of rehearsal for the fourth day in a row; I would've told Dae Jung-nim to shove the offer down his freshly pressed slacks.

I love to practice. I really do. I will never take dancing with my sisters for granted. It's always a guaranteed laugh when somebody messes up, and we watch Hanna lose her shit, though it's even better when she's the one who messes up. But this isn't funny anymore. I'm hot. I'm bothered. And I cannot stand to listen to our song play one more goddamn time in this boiling dance practice room.

My eyes lift from the ground in my heaved-over stance, a pained laugh passing through my lips as I see my four members sprawled out in various exhausted positions. Asami, specifically, catches my eye; her limbs are spread out on the floor like a starfish, her jaw to the ceiling as she heaves out heavy, strained breaths and furrowed brows to tie it all together. I almost lose it when our song dares to fade out and is about to replay automatically when Joonie's voice echoes throughout the hot box. "I will break your phone, unnie. I really will." Her threat is acknowledged by the oldest as she rolls over from her spot on the floor with a grunt and crawls over to her phone. Hanna lifts a hand to tap over the screen blindly, a satisfied sigh leaving her when the opening line cuts off mid-sentence before flopping back onto the ground again.

"I'll go get us some water," I offer, standing straight after unbending my knees and heading for the door.

"Are you kidding?" Joonie's voice causes me to turn back to the girls, my hand resting on the doorknob as I shoot her a confused look. "You are not even tired. You're so annoying!" She cries before rolling over on her side, turning to face the wall dramatically as the older members chuckle. 

I shake my head at the melodramatic teen, a smile threatening to break through on my lips, "I am tired. Just not as much as you." My teasing results in our maknae attempting to pull off her shoe and launch it at me before she tiredly moans and gives up, falling back with a huff.

I exit the room with an amused giggle, making sure to leave the door open and let the hallway's cooled air pour into the studio.

SIREN'S SONG: Rumour from Produce48 (no bc siren would eat this up fr) + SIREN'S STAGE OUTFITS (Left to Right) Ha-Joon, Asami, Aera, Han-na, Nali

The warm air of the hand dryer does well to bring some heat to my cold, shaky hands in the bathroom of Inkigayo. Apparently, Joonie has decided that my hands are dry enough and dashes out of the room, the door swinging behind her as she abandons me. Feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head, I take a quick glance at the mirror and tuck in the part of my white blouse that's not sitting right under my belt before following after the hyperactive girl.

"Joonie, hold up," I whine as I push through the bathroom door, seeing her waiting against the wall opposite the toilets.

"I just wanted to get out of there. It smells like thirty different perfumes." She chuckles before pushing off the wall and starts to head in the direction of our members. I only make it a step towards her before a masculine voice joins our conversation.

"Hello. Are you alright?"

I turn my head towards the voice to see two guys in pilot? policeman? uniforms staring at me curiously. "I'm sorry?" I reply, my tone not doing anything to hide my confusion.

The strangled gasp of Joon from behind me reaches my ear before she almost trips over her own feet, jogging to my side. "Oh my annyeonghaseyo!" She splutters once she's next to me. Her head drops into an instant bow, and I catch on quickly, turning back to the two guys before bowing even lower.

They return the gesture with big smiles before the taller one with dirty blonde hair and a dimple I want to poke turns to me, "Did you need something?"

I feel his friend's gaze on me as I tilt slightly to look up at him before responding, "What do you mean?" What a confusing fucking interaction.

"You yelled out my name."

"Oh!" Oh I see. "Sorry, I was calling out to Joonie," I say as I gesture to the blonde on my left.

"His name is Joonie. Namjoon. Namjoon and Jungkook sunbaenim," she informs me in a low, pointed tone. 

I blink a few times at my younger sister before turning back to the police officers. "Oh, wow! Bangtan Sonyeondan!" I bow again, "I'm a huge fan!" I add as I rise from the bow, and my eyes meet the brunette's when I lift my head. With an amused smile painted on his lips, he nods in a way that says 'clearly' in the most sarcastic tone you could think of. 

"Kim Ha-Joon," she introduces herself politely before gesturing to me, "and this is Hwang Aera. It's great to meet you."

I mean, I am familiar with Bangtan Sonyeondan; I just didn't recognise them instantly. They make great music, and I share a room with Kim Ha-Joon, a boy group fanatic; it's literally impossible to be unfamiliar with most boy groups nowadays because of her. I am, however, more of an Exo fan. I would give up my firstborn for five minutes with Sehun, but that's another conversation. 

I remember the two members she obsesses over in this specific group; one being Park Jimin and the other being the tall glass of water in front of her right now. I'm surprised she hasn't fainted or puked yet.

My eyes drag over their outfits quickly and interestedly before they raise to meet Jungkook's. His eyes are naturally wide and curious, and I find myself wanting to keep staring into them. But, seriously, they're so big that it's almost intimidating. I hate that I like that.

I force myself to eventually look away, though he does not do the same as I feel his gaze on me even when I turn to Hajoon while she speaks. "So excited for your performance! We love your music!" She praises, and I nod in agreement even though I couldn't tell you the first letter of the song they're performing if you held a gun to my head.

"Thank you," Namjoon says humbly, "We're excited to see you perform as well." I almost let a snort escape at his words because it's highly unlikely he even knows who we are, let alone our music. Instead, Ha-Joon accepts the polite response with a toothy grin and fiery red cheeks. It's so cute.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes furiously in my hand, and I mutter a soft apology under my breath before looking down at it, trying my hardest to ignore Jungkook's stare that I feel on my every move and trying even harder not to comment on it out loud.

[5:38 pm] HALMEONI: DID YOU GUYS FALL OVER IN THE BATHROOM OR SOMETHING?

[5:38 pm] HALMEONI: IF SO, GET UP RIGHT NOW AND GET BACK HERE.

[5:39 pm] HALMEONI: WE'RE ON SOON.

"Shoot," I mutter before looking up at Joonie, "we have to go before we get killed." 

She looks away from Namjoon for what I think is the first time since she laid eyes on him, and I see the faintest hint of a pout on her lips as she nods at me. I turn to the pilots, "I'm really sorry about the confusion. But we have to go before our leader comes to find us, and none of us wants that." I bow again for good measure and watch as Namjoon shakes his head with a chuckle and a dimpled smile.

"Good luck," Jungkook calls as I spin on my heels and head towards a heated Hanna. I grab the arm of my starstruck maknae as I retreat, throwing back a polite 'thank you, you too!' as I drag the girl down the hall with me. 

"Thank you SO much!" Joonie yells back, her free arm that isn't in my grasp lifting to give them a big wave. I am too distracted to laugh at her fangirl behaviour, trying to ignore the way the only two goddamn words he spoke during the entire interaction affected me.

Ha-Joon's borderline hyperventilating as we near the backstage area where our members are waiting pulls me out of my head long enough to glance at her and giggle. "You don't even know how shaky I am right now," she gushes, and I look down at my hand on her ghostly, goosebump-covered arm,

"I think I have some sort of idea."

"Jesus, look at their stage," Asami grumbles aloud as the five of us huddle around the monitors that display the performance of the current act. In this case, it's the Bulletproof Boy Scouts—or whatever I just heard the MC announce. Apparently, they have multiple names, and now I'm confused again.

The rest of us nod in unison, astonishment and a little jealousy, as we stare at the beautiful, very expensive-looking stage decoration through the little monitors. I watch as the spotlights flicker green before the camera zooms into the guy in the centre, and it's no other than Mr Oogly from the hallway incident. 

"Ayo, ladies and gentlemen," Jungkook's voice is smooth as he moves confidently, eyes never losing the camera once he finds it. Once he finishes the intro, it cuts to another member, Jimin, if I recall correctly. I glance at Joonie in time to see her eyes widen excitedly when he appears on the screen.

When I look back at the monitor, the rest of the group is running into view, quickly getting into formation before they start dancing to the chorus' instrumental. My eyebrows furrow as they move, taking over the stage like seasoned professionals instead of young rookies. Jesus, they're good.

"What's that one's name, Joonie-yah?" Nali asks wide-eyed as a platinum blonde member makes his way to the middle. 

"It's Suga, unnie," Ha-Joon replies instantly, her eyes not leaving the monitor for a split second.

Our youngest is rapping along (or at least trying to rap along) to Suga's part under her breath, and I watch as he casually devours his lines with a cheeky smile and breath control to be desired. 

"I gotta make it, gotta, gotta make it," 

The next chorus approaches before I know it, and Jungkook slinks his way to the centre before I have time to register how the fuck someone can actually look like the guy who Joonie just informed me was named V.

"Jjeoreo!" They fall back into their choreo during the chorus, and my eyes float from each member before landing right back in the middle. Jungkook's staring into the camera as he sings his lines, and I shake my head in astonishment. He doesn't miss a beat while simultaneously singing his lines live during the intense chorus choreography.

Ha-Joon's singing along to the music is so cute; I pull her over and link my arm with hers. We're bobbing along to the chorus as we watch the group perform through the monitor with vibrant energy and stamina. I hope at least one person in this entire building was as impressed by our performance as Joonie is with theirs; she's basically shaking.

Their song comes to an end, and the loud screams from the crowd drag my sisters and me out of our haze. "Wow," Hanna breathes as we step back from the monitors while the show cuts back to the MCs.

"They're just insane, aren't they?" Joonie sighs dreamily with her head leaning on my shoulder. I nod in agreement and drag the younger girl along as we follow our leader through the backstage area while she says something about photos and a particular staircase.

"I haven't eaten today; I was scared I'd puke it all up. Apparently, all the food here is free. I'll bring back a bunch for all of us," Asami exclaims before breaking off from the herd and heading towards the cafeteria.

Joonie's ears perk up like a puppy at the mention of food, and it doesn't take long for her to detach from my side and jog over to the Japanese girl. They disappear around a corner and throw back an obedient 'yes mum' to Han-na when she tells them to hurry.

I hear a resounding chorus of chatter get louder behind me, coming from the area near where the five of us were just gathered around the monitors. Right where you dismount the stage. I ignored their cheers of glee and tried to speed up a bit to catch up to Hanna and Nali before a voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Hey! Aera, right?"

I watch my two older sisters get further away on their trek to the stupid fucking staircase, and I'm almost offended. I could be getting abducted right now, and they wouldn't even notice. I spin around to face the voice, and his wide starry eyes catch me off guard again. 

Nodding in response, I am about to lean down into a bow once again before he puts up a hand to stop me. Jungkook's smile is cheeky with an undertone of cockiness, abruptly halting my action. 

"It's rude not to bow to your sunbaenims, you know," I inform through hooded eyes, my palms resting on the skin of my bare thighs. Suddenly, I wish I went for trousers today.

"Sunbaenim?" His tone is so cheeky, "We debuted barely a year before you."

His response catches me off guard, and I blink a few times, waiting for his confident facade to crack. It doesn't. "How'd you know when we debuted?"

"Big fan." He says simply with a shrug, no doubt referencing my comment from earlier this afternoon in the hallway.

"Hm," I nod with a pursed-lip smile, glancing over his shoulder and seeing his bandmates looking in our direction. They notice my gaze on them and suddenly spin around into a huddle, pretending to have never looked at me to begin with. 

A laugh catches in my throat at his members' actions before I look back at Jungkook. "Your performance was really good." I praise, watching as his head tilts ever so slightly at the comment, his teeth poking out of his mouth as he smiles. Like a bunny.

"You think so?" 

"Don't say things like that if I don't mean it. You were great." I nod, watching his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

"Thank you. You were incredible as well," Jungkook replies politely, and I brush it off as an obliged response.

"Seriously. You were." He assures, almost as if he could tell I didn't believe him.

"Thank you." 

I find myself looking at his eyes again. You can learn a lot about someone through their eyes, and his are wide and full. He doesn't even try to hide his emotions displayed in their glossiness, and I don't think he wants to. It protrudes confidence and security, and I admire that.

A few moments pass, and my eyes flicker from him to the members behind him before they return. "I have to go take photos in front of a staircase," I say as his eyebrows raise intriguingly, "I'll let you get back."

He nods wordlessly before patting his back pocket, "Could I—" he finally finishes the phone from his trousers, "grab your number?"

My teeth pull at the inside of my bottom lip as I watch him unlock his phone before looking up at me with wide, hopeful eyes. 

"I, uh—" I don't give my number out. To anyone. I lost a lot of friendships in my journey to debut. Work occupied ninety-nine percent of my time and attention. Any relationships I did have prior to Siren basically fizzled out due to our long and odd hours of practice and preparation.

"I won't bother you too much," he smirks, "promise."

My lips purse shut as I take the phone from his grasp before putting my number in his contacts.

"I won't bother you too much." What a fucking liar.

this chapter is dedicated to @ibtiheler for your sweet comments & dms, thank u for supporting the story angel!! i hope ur having an amazing day &lt;3 love you xx

-

tag list — lemme kno if u'd like to be added <3

@0anodite0 @heartjiminie @aloverga @cuntessaiii @adeptiixiao

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Her Voice

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Smutty Audiobook Narrator!Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 3.2K

Notes: No physical descriptions of the Reader (there are descriptions of characters that are not the reader in the story); no use of y/n

Okay. So. I got this idea today and it would not leave me alone so. Here ya go. It's a little out of the ordinary from my usual? I think the POV shifts from Matt to what's being read are clear, but please let me know if they're not.

Warnings: Voyeurism; voice kink; scent kink; dirty talk; daddy kink; spanking; masturbation; Matt Murdock's Opinions on Some Romance Novel Verbiage which are also my opinions shut up

Summary: It had become his guilty pleasure. There were some nights that he loathed his duties to Hell’s Kitchen, and missed the sound of her voice caressing each sultry, salacious syllable. 

When she had moved in, he could never have known that his otherwise mild-mannered and church-mouse quiet new neighbor would have such a smutty evening occupation. The first time he’d heard it, he thought that she may be reading aloud to herself, that she had some sort of fetish for her own voice. He’d understand if she did—he'd certainly developed one.

It had become his guilty pleasure. There were some nights that he cursed his duties to Hell’s Kitchen, and missed the sound of her voice caressing each sultry, salacious syllable. 

That night, he caught on a phone call of hers—a complaint about a broken mic, a contract, a quick turnaround, and a plea for a replacement mic. She was nervous. Matt could hear her heart pounding in panic. The package had arrived just an hour later, and she thanked the delivery person enthusiastically. Another phone call had been made (to a boss or an agent, Matt wasn’t sure). 

“I’m one chapter out,” She said. “I’ll have it in by nine.” 

What had followed had been some pacing, some vocal warm-ups and tongue twisters. Matt found himself waiting with bated breath. He had missed most of the recording of this latest project, and had somewhat shamefully been hanging around his apartment that evening, rather than grabbing a drink at Josie’s with Foggy and Karen. He settled on his couch, laying down and letting his ears filter out the noise of the street below, and the sounds of the other apartments around them. He closed his eyes, and just let himself listen to her: 

“Maddox strode across the room, shedding his jacket as he did so. Eleanor watched as the meticulously tailored garment crumpled on the floor. Before she could open her mouth to protest, Maddox raised a hand, curling it around the supple skin of her throat.” 

Matt licked his lips, a smile pulling at his face as he heard her heartbeat tick up. She must’ve liked that. 

“‘You are sorely mistaken’,” She went on, lowering her voice a touch, approximating a man’s tone. It was always strange to Matt that this was the route taken, rather than subbing in a man’s voice from chapter to chapter. “‘My interest in Zufiya was purely transactional.’” 

“And this? What has this been if not transactional?” 

Matt smiled. She was so quick to shift from one voice to the other. He’d heard it time and again, but it always fascinated him. 

“Maddox’s expression seemed to melt at the subdued fury in Eleanor’s amber eyes. His hand gently smoothed along the side of her neck, his knuckle skating across her jaw. Eleanor could feel a softening in her chest, the chains that she’d wound around her heart breaking one by one. She needed to step away. She knew that if she was in his company for one moment longer, she would yield to him.” 

Yield. Yield was a good word. There were some words used in these books that Matt found utterly laughable, but the yearning press that she’d put on yield made him shift on his couch, his cock giving a belated twitch in his pants. 

“Eleanor took a half-step back, and winced as she felt the hard press of the brick wall behind her. Oh, god.” 

Oh god indeed. She had loosed that last utterance with a breathy little moan—one that Matt would give anything to hear and feel right up against his cheek. 

“If she had had a lick of sense, she would’ve ordered him out. Hell—she never should’ve let him in in the first place. But as Maddox braced his hands on the wall behind her, Eleanor felt her remaining inhibitions crumbling. 

"‘If I cared about Zufiya, would I be here now?’ Maddox murmured. ‘You think I would chase her halfway across the world like this? Follow her to the ends of the fucking Earth if I had to?’ His hand lifted from her cheek, his finger trailing across her plush, trembling bottom lip. ‘If that’s truly what you think of me, Ellie, then you don’t know me at all.’ 

“Eleanor’s knees weakened as Maddox’s lips covered hers in a hungry kiss. Her hands raised on instinct, intent on pushing him away, but her traitorous fingers curled around his collar. She used her last vestiges of strength to haul him closer, her mouth falling open in a moan as she felt his cock coming alive in his pants.” 

Matt found himself torn between arousal and laughter. Coming alive? Did he have a Franken-cock? Or was this one a vampire, too? She’d read a few of those. They hadn’t been Matt’s favorite—and he’d been more than a little conflicted when one of them had also been a priest. 

“Eleanor choked on a breath as Maddox reached down, gripping her shirt and yanking it harshly, sending its mother of pearl buttons scattering across the floor. She would give him hell for that later. For now, she let her head fall back against the wall, her eyes sliding shut as Maddox leaned down, ravaging her breasts.” 

Ravaging. It was another verb that Matt didn’t particularly care for from day to day, but he was more than happy to hear it coming from her mouth. He found himself lowering his hand, absently palming his hardening cock through his pants. He always felt a little…Guilty, doing this. Maybe it was wrong, but others would eventually be listening to this too, right? He was just at a different place in the production and sales process. Maybe he could think of it as a free sample. 

“‘Take your shirt off,’ Eleanor begged. ‘I want to touch you.’” 

Her pleas were so sweet. They made Matt’s eyes squeeze shut, his fingers flexing around his length. Did she really sound like that when she begged? When she was in the throes of passion? Or did she prefer to make others bed? He wanted to know, and it was becoming increasingly irritating to be deprived of that knowledge. He’d never heard her with anyone in her apartment, or getting off alone. Maybe she was with someone and went to theirs instead. He had no way of knowing—he’d never actually met her. He’d just fallen for her voice through their walls. 

“'How do we ask for what we want, Ellie?’ Maddox goaded. Eleanor swallowed thickly, her doe-like eyes batting up at him. He could see the fight that she was having within herself—her damnable and fierce independence was battling the joy that she found in submitting to his him. She swept her tongue across her kiss-blushed lips before she said the two little words that Maddox had become so hooked on: 

‘Please, daddy.’” 

Matt’s surprise pushed a grunt out of him, a shaky little laugh leaving him. Oh. Shit. He fumbled a little, shoving his shirt up a bit and pushing his hand beneath the band of his sweatpants. 

“‘That’s my good girl’.”

She liked that, too. Matt could sense the heat rising in her body, hear the way her heart was thudding more roughly in her chest. He tipped his head, drawing in a deep breath. The scent of her was faint, but more than enough for him to seek out and hold to. His hand tightened around his hardening length, stroking himself with indulgent slowness. He knew well enough by now to take his time when he listened to her. 

“Maddox hooked his finger in the waistband of her tight pencil skirt, towing her from the wall to the kitchen table. If he felt that they had more time, or that he had more patience, he would’ve taken her to her canopy bed just down the hall. But he needed Eleanor in that moment, and he could see from the desperate, cock-dumb way that he followed that she needed him just as badly. 

“Maddox reached out, swiping the contents of the table onto the floor, uncaring of the mugs, dishes, pens, papers, and magazines that were scattered and shattered as a result. He was desperate to spread her wide, to hear her whimpers and sighs as he pleased her with this tongue and fingers before giving her his cock. He wanted to banish any notion of their argument, of Zufiya, of their arrangement from her mind. He wanted to pull her apart and put her together again in the way that only he knew how—in the way that no other man would ever know her. Eleanor Lewis was his, and he would never squander her time or attentions again. 

“Maddox leaned away despite the way she whimpered, though the sound plucked at his heartstrings. He took hold of her hand, placing it over his hardening length and urging her fingers to squeeze around him before he raised his hands to undo the line of buttons on his shirt. 

"‘So, you’ll tear my shirt to bits, but take time with yours?’ Eleanor pouted. ‘That’s not very nice.’

"Maddox flashed a shark-line grin as he shrugged off his shirt, revealing his broad, muscled chest. 

"‘You ought to know by now that I’m not very nice,’ Maddox teased in turn. He reached down, shoving the fabric of her skirt up around her hips. He’d take his time undressing her properly later, but now, he wanted to give them both what they were desperate for. Eleanor watched, stunned, as her dom and protector lowered himself to his knees in front of her, tugging off the scrap of lace that was covering her dripping cunt.” 

Matt let out a shaky breath as he sensed her leaning back from her mic, and heard the way she swallowed quickly. The scent of her was becoming stronger. Matt drew his cock out from the band of his sweatpants. He wanted to be buried between her thighs, to take in the scent from the source, and feel the pulse of her needy pussy. 

“Eleanor lowered a hand to steady herself against the table as Maddox leaned in, bracing his palms on her legs and running the tip of his tongue along her weeping slit. A low growl emitted from his chest as he tasted her, his fingers flexing in the pillow-soft flesh of her thighs. Eleanor shivered and let her head fall back, her auburn curls brushing the mahogany wood of the table as she tipped her hips down toward him.” 

Matt could sense her shifting in her seat, her hand rising to pull her collar away from her neck a little. Maybe she didn’t have someone elsewhere. Maybe she was all wound up, and all alone. 

“Eleanor jolted a touch as she felt Maddox’s fingers tap, then gently ease into her weeping hole.” 

Matt winced. Weeping hole? That sounded like a wound. 

“Her body tightened around him of its own volition, a shaky whimper dropping from her mouth as Maddox sealed his lips around her swollen bud. The tip of his tongue teased and flicked over her clit, his fingers curling and thrusting as he knew she liked. Eleanor lowered a hand to run his fingers through his hair, fingers twitching and tugging as Maddox’s fingertips brushed the spot inside of her that made her toes curl.” 

Matt groaned softly as he swept his thumb along the head of his cock, smearing the swelling bead of precum as he raked his other hand through his hair, giving it a light tug. Would she tug? He’d want her to. Matt’s heart was pounding in his chest as he raised his hand, lapping wetly across his palm before desperately taking himself in hand again. 

“‘Maddox—Oh!’ Eleanor gasped as Maddox reared back, his lips and chin shining with her juices, and his eyes narrowed in warning.

"‘Daddy—Daddy, I’m sorry—’ She stammered, but it was too little too late. Maddox slipped his fingers from her, straightening. Her eyes darted to his erect length in his pants. She only had a second to look before Maddox grasped her by the waistband of her skirt again, yanking her up and turning her. He placed a rough hand between her shoulders, shoving her down. She braced her hands before she could face plant into the wood, her body tingling with the knowledge of her incoming punishment.

"‘Count,’ Was the order that left Maddox’ gruff mouth. It was chased by a rough slap and sting. Eleanor’s empty pussy ached and throbbed, a counter to the pleasurable pain rippling across her backside. Her jaw fell open, eyes squeezing shut as she managed to weakly whimper, ‘One’.”

Matt pulled his hand off of his cock with a groan, fisting his greedy fingers in the fabric of his sweatpants. He was too close—he could feel his orgasm brewing, his balls pulling tight. He took in a deep breath, steadying himself, and trying to slow the rough pounding of his heart. But he didn’t stop listening. He couldn’t if he tried. 

“The following blows rained along Eleanor’s backside unerringly. She pushed each number out obediently, even as her voice shook and broke. By the time he reached ten, Eleanor’s cheeks were wet with tears, and her cunt was sopping. Maddox sighed softly through his nose, smoothing his hand over her heated skin. He dipped his head, brushing a kiss to her quaking shoulders and pushing his body up against hers. His trousers brushed roughly against her sensitive ass. She just shivered and pushed her pleading body back toward his.” 

Matt listened as she pulled in a deep breath, shifting on her chair. Did she want to chase the feeling that was welling slickness up between her thighs? He could only imagine the way she would, pushing and rolling her thighs to chase the pressure, and to loosen the knot that this job was working her up into. 

“That’s my good girl,’ Maddox purred again, smoothing his hands over her shaking sides. He reached up, quickly working at the clasp of her bra. The straps slid down her trembling arms, and he reached around, tugging the cups down to expose her more fully to him. Maddox gently gathered her hair and pushed it from her nape, pressing a kiss there.

"‘Can you take me just like this?’ He murmured. Her head hung low as she nodded, but Maddox tsk’d softly. He curled his fingers in her hair, yanking her head back and listening to her throaty moan. ‘You know I need to hear it, Eleanor. Do you want another punishment?’ 

"Her body and her mind screamed two different things, but her body won out. She whined, ‘No, Daddy. I can take you just—just like this. Please, Daddy.’” 

Matt couldn’t help how quickly he reached down to grasp himself again. The way she begged was so goddamn irresistible. Every whimper and whine, and every pleading syllable that she pushed through her lips made heat flash across his body. 

“Maddox kept a vice-like grip on her hair as he reached down, undoing his belt and zip with one hand. He drew his cock out, stroking over it a couple of times before using her hair to pull her upright. Eleanor's lips dropped open in a moan, the sound muffled as he shoved and plunged his fingers into her mouth. She gagged, her nose filling with the scent of herself, and her tongue bursting with her own taste. Maddox watched as her eyelids fluttered, tears welling and slipping down her round cheeks as she obediently struggled, keeping her mouth wide open. Maddox drew his fingers from her, nuzzling her heated cheek as he lowered his spit-slicked digits to grasp himself. He stroked over his length before he steered himself into Eleanor’s grasping, needy cunt.

“He hardly gave her a moment to adjust, and she hardly seemed to need it. Eleanor came with a shout, her sensitive pussy tightening around Maddox’s cock as he set a punishing pace. He rode her through her orgasm, his hands grasping, pinching and pulling her sensitive nipples as he rutted into her. His name fell from her lips like a desperate prayer. He looked down, eyeing her pert, bouncing ass as he nailed her with harsh, deep thrusts. Maddox curled over Eleanor, letting go of her breasts and pressing his body up against hers as he buried his face in her neck, drawing in her tempting scent.

‘Is that what you needed, Eleanor?’

‘Yes, Daddy.’

‘What do you say?’

‘Thank you Daddy, thank you!’” 

Matt’s mouth fell open in a pant as he pushed his hips up into his hand. He was dancing dangerously close to the edge. Her voice was all-consuming, painting the picture as if it was for his ears only. He heard her move and growled as her scent overwhelmed him. She’d spread her legs. Matt would give anything to slot between them—to give her his lips, his tongue, his fingers, his cock, any goddamn thing she wanted. 

Matt planted his heels in the cushions of the couch, bracing and straining as his orgasm crept closer. 

“Eleanor’s fingers grasped weakly at the edges of the table, her legs shaking as the head of Maddox’s cock raked over her g-spot. 

‘Are you going to cum again, you sweet, greedy girl?’ Maddox chuckled. 

‘Yes, Daddy—But—’

‘But what?’

‘Wanna wait for—for you.’ 

“Eleanor’s insistence was labored, her words jolting with each rough shove of his hips. Maddox’s chest flooded with affection. In that moment, he wanted to give Eleanor everything—his cock, his cum, his goddamn heart. He slipped his fingers between her slick thighs, swiping at her clit with indulgent roughness, grinning as she loosed a stunned scream and tightened around his cock. He was just behind, his cock pulsing and spilling into her hungry cunt.” 

Matt’s cheeks pinked as his hips stuttered, his cock spurting across his stomach and chest. He pushed out a long, low moan. Fuck. Matt tipped his head back against the arm of his couch, his chest rising and falling as he blinked, gathering himself. She was still going on the other side of the wall—still reading, still shifting, still fighting to keep her own blatant arousal out of her voice. 

“Maddox kept a palm pressed carefully to the table to steady them both, resting his forehead between her shoulder blades. He cupped her still-throbbing cunt, grunting as she pushed her hips back against him.

‘...I think you broke my favorite mug,’ Eleanor managed after a few moments, her voice rough from their exertion. ‘And you definitely ruined my favorite shirt.’ 

‘Forgive me,’ Maddox murmured. 

‘Prove that you’re sorry.’ 

“Maddox chuckled, lifting his chin and sinking his teeth into her shoulder, grinning as she gasped and writhed at the sudden burst of pain. 

“‘Babygirl,’ He murmured as he lifted his head from her throbbing skin. ‘You ought to know by now that you shouldn’t try to give me orders.’”

It was quiet for a moment. Then, Matt heard her click something. She sighed, pulling her headphones off of her ears. He could sense her standing and walking from one place to another. It was chased by the sound of her turning the faucet on, of a glass being filled, and then three greedy gulps. She sighed again, setting the glass down before she muttered, “Son of a bitch.” 

Matt laughed softly, raising a hand to scrub across his face. It was like he was sobering up, the noise of the street and the other apartments beginning to come back to his consciousness, and the feeling of his cum cooling on his belly. 

“Son of a bitch,” He agreed softly.

Tag list: @mattmurdocksscars; @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ;  @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage​​​ ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa​ ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices​ ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce 

[tightjeansjavi]

The Hills Have Eyes

A Dieter Bravo Story

Dieter Bravo x f!bestfriend reader x oc wife

A/N: so idk why Dieter decided to infiltrate my dreams last night but am I complaining? NAH cause here comes yet another idea that is going to rot my brain away! Y’all are gonna have to be patient because I don’t intend on having the first chapter out until July (the latest) also, face claim for Dieter’s wife is Aubrey Plaza. They give me bi panic, okay? 😰 The plot is plotting for this one and honestly? I’m so fricken excited (my other WIPS are not excited however)

Summary: Dieter Bravo has been your best friend since you were kids. He was your first kiss, first everything. He was your prom date and most definitely your first love. Dieter never grew the balls to officially ask you out. After graduating senior year of high-school together, Dieter dives head first into Hollywood. He lands a breakout role and he’s all that the tabloids can talk about. Years later you’re soon to be married to your long term boyfriend, until you catch him in bed with one of your own friends. Heartbroken and seeking comfort, you reach out to Dieter, who graciously invites you to his home tucked away in the Hollywood Hills. The second you see a ring on his finger, your heart sinks. Is everything all that it truly seems?

Warnings: angst, pining, heartbreak, typical Hollywood scandals, Dieter is in an open relationship with his wife, things get messy and complicated, drinking, drug use, paparazzi invading privacy, FWB, excessive partying, eventual smut, toxic relationship sprinkled in here and there, Dieter isn’t unhappy in his marriage, he just feels like there’s something missing, reader has never been exposed to the Hollywood lifestyle before, (+18) minors dni! I will add more warnings if necessary! My brain is blanking so I’m sorry if I missed some!

Sneak Peek below the cut

“You’re married?” Your heart sinks deep in the pit of your stomach when you see the shiny gold ring on Dieter’s ring finger. It shimmers in the light and he looks down at it like he’s never seen it before.

“Oh, this? Uh, yeah. I am married.” He shrugs like it’s the most casual thing that he could possibly say. “Does that surprise you, sweet cheeks? Don’t fret. My wife and I are in an open relationship. You wouldn’t believe the amount of Hollywood couples that are totally banging friends and strangers left and right. It happens way more often than you think.” He winked.

“Where is your wife now?”

“Morocco? Spain? Dunno actually. Last I heard she was in Greece. We really only see each other for big events and shit like that.”

“It doesn’t bother you..or anything?”

“Bother me? No, not at all my sweets. She does whatever she wants, with who she wants, when she wants. As long as it stays private. I do the same. It’s a win win situation babe.”He gingerly brought his arm around your shoulders, giving you a warm side hug as he gestured for you to follow him into his extravagant home. “Enough about me, my dear. I’ll make us some drinks, and you can tell me all about that no good rotten son of a bitch ex fiancée, and that backstabbing cunt of a friend. Extra dirty martinis makes everything better, baby. Trust me.”

This summer with your best friend, was about to get extra interesting.

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Restoring the Roots (Joel Miller x Therapist! reader)

Chapter 3: Preparation

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Pairing: Joel Miller x therapist! reader, post outbreak

Rating: none, will be changed to explicit in future chapters (slow burn, eventual smut, age gap)

Summary: Life after moving to Jackson looks drastically different for Joel, survival mode is over and now he and Ellie can finally put down new roots. Ellie adapts easily but Joel finds himself struggling to settle into this new life, in more ways than some. At Ellie and Tommy’s insistence, Joel begrudgingly finds himself in therapy to try and work through his struggles but what he encounters is more than just painful memories and deeply rooted trauma.

A/N: Thank you once again to everyone who has reached out to me and expressed their interest in this story. I definitely still do want to continue writing it, because it brings me joy and helps me relieve my stress. Some of my mutuals know I'm going through a lot with life right now, so I will not be able to write and post as frequently, but I will not be abandoning this story. This chapter is a shorter, transitional chapter before we get into the meat and potatoes of joel and readers' interactions, and seeing him start the therapeutic process. Rest assured, it's going to get good!

You scurried throughout the back room of the office that was used for private sessions, straightening things up after your latest client left, as you heard the front door open. Tracey had gone out on her lunch break early and of course you were still here doing last minute things. What else is new? 

You recall Tracey’s stern warning to you before she left for the cafeteria hall, “I better not find you still in this office by the time I get back or else I’ll drag you to the caf and chain you to a table.”

You didn’t doubt she would. She was always looking out for your wellbeing, even when it was well past closing hours. She would bring you a snack or a tea as you continued to sit at your desk and intermittently shake out your hand cramps while writing notes.  She would even come by the stables when you were getting ready to do night check on all the horses, to help you get the chores done faster. You loved her dearly and were grateful that she kept you accountable, even when the love she returned was tough love.

Mentally cursing yourself for not keeping track of the time, yet again, you quickly opened the door to the front reception as your eyes settled on a man who was intently observing the pictures on the walls. Despite only being able to briefly make out his side profile, you stopped in your tracks upon noticing him. Brown hair with curls that looked soft to the touch, speckled with greys here and there, a defined nose, golden weathered skin defined by a salt and peppered, slightly patchy beard. It was still coming into spring in Jackson so you didn’t question the massive leather coat he had on but you didn’t miss the broadness in his shoulders despite the rest of his slender build.

Well damn. A (somewhat) silver fox. 

You slapped yourself mentally, trying to slip into professional mode.

There were a fair amount of people in the commune and you had seen your fair share of men who had roused your interest, but you mostly chalked it up to the fact that it had been a long time since you’d been with anyone romantically. Dating, intimacy, hell even human touch, felt like hazy memories of simpler times before the world had ended. 

Seemingly startled by your entrance to the room, you shook yourself out of ogling and introduced yourself to him. You quickly noticed how tense and nervous he was, his eyes glancing everywhere else in the room except at you. As if he was prey assessing for the quickest escape route. 

You were endeared by the confusion written on his face at your initial question of whether he was a client, as he just stared blankly at you with his soulful brown eyes. Although you had to mentally slap yourself again when he introduced himself as Joel Miller, Tommy’s brother. It had only been a day since your conversation with Tommy. Understandably, you didn’t anticipate seeing his brother anytime soon, especially with what Tommy shared about Joel. 

Understanding the nature of the situation, and Joel’s obvious discomfort in seeking out help, you tried to make the consultation as stress free as possible, allowing him to speak first and share his thoughts about therapy. He wasn’t as hostile or cold as you anticipated, rather he shared that sense of being lost and displaced, much like your other clients who were struggling. His southern charm supplemented that as well, with his politeness overshadowing his contention towards therapy. For a second you thought he was going to disintegrate on the spot when he realized he had cursed in front of you and apologized profusely. It was charming as hell and really fucking endearing.

You tried your best to sympathize with his concerns him and validate his feelings, but fuck it was hard to concentrate. You couldn’t stop focusing on how much room he took up on the seemingly large sofa. His broad shoulders were still concealed by his coat but you didn’t miss how he sat with his legs spread open, easily dwarfing the couch that could normally seat three people. He also spoke with his hands, you noticed. A lot. You surmised it was the nerves, but again, you could get pretty animated with your hands when talking about something that excited you. You bit the inside of your cheek as you struggled to maintain his gaze and ignore how large they were, calloused from hard labour, how thick and long his fingers were. 

By some miracle you managed to make it through the entire conversation without gawking incessantly and fumbling your words, even when it felt like your brain was functioning faster than your mouth. Your passion getting the better of you.

Despite what Tommy told you, Joel was sweet, albeit reserved, but that wasn’t very different from other first time clients you met. You appreciated his honesty and apprehension. His perception of therapy didn’t surprise you in the least, If you were being honest. It only made you more excited at the prospect of working with him, and showing him the power of equine assisted therapy. He did seem to light up when you mentioned how the therapy worked and the interactions with the horses. You took that as a good sign. If he was already an animal lover it would make the transition to working with horses in a close proximity much easier. While equine therapy was indeed effective, it was a much longer process when your clients were not used to working with horses or were downright terrified of them. 

Overall the consultation went smoothly and Joel seemed noticeably more relaxed by the end of your chat, compared to when he first came into the office. You couldn’t help but break into a huge grin at his admittance of feeling better after your chat, that and his silent agreement to the therapy. You blushed as you recalled his lopsided smile when he said goodbye to you, and the dimple on his right cheek.  

You were still deep in your thoughts, watching Joel through the front window, as he proceeded down the mainstreet, when you saw Tracey approaching. She clocked Joel leaving the office and looked at you through the window, her jaw dropped open in astonishment as she rushed into the office, buzzing with energy.

“Okay, first of all, I’m gonna let slide the fact that you didn’t get lunch yet, because let’s be real, I know you that well,” she said in an authoritative manner, resting her hand on her cocked hip. “Second of all, is that who I thought I saw leaving our office just now?!!” she exclaimed frantically. 

You ignored her pointed remark about lunch and looked at her quizzically. “Who, that guy? His name is Joel Miller, he might be signing up for some sessions.”

Tracey’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “No way. No fucking way! Seriously, he came in for therapy?!” she squealed in a hushed tone. She was practically bouncing up and down on the spot like a kid on Christmas morning, the strands of her curly hair springing like coils with the movement.

“Yes! Joel Miller! ” You sarcastically replied in the same hushed tone, “why is that such a big deal?”

“Haven’t you heard any of the stories?” She wiggled her eyebrows at you. Frowning at her disapprovingly you replied, “I thought you just said you knew me well Trace.” 

You were never one for gossip, she definitely knew that. Especially when it came to gossip about your clients. You acknowledged it all as hearsay. You had to, otherwise any other information that didn’t come from your clients directly only served to fuel your prior judgements, and that could lead to internal biases. While you no longer needed any higher powers to validate your credibility as a therapist you still had morals, and that was one aspect of professionalism you refused to let fall to the wayside. You treated all your clients as though you had no prior knowledge of them, so that you could support them without letting your attitudes and perceptions interfere.

“I know, I know,” she exhaled deeply. “His history is pretty well known here, that’s all. Aside from trekking across the country to reunite with his brother here, he took in that young girl from FEDRA protection. And he apparently did some questionable things on the way…” she trailed off hesitantly. 

You gave her a stern look and continued to frown. “Whatever it is, I am not interested in it.” 

“Fair enough, fair enough, I apologize,” she put her hands up in surrender, “hopefully you can forgive me since I was thinking about you on my lunch break.” She digs into her purse and pulls out a sandwich wrapped in foil and a small bag of chips, dill pickle, your favorite flavor. You smirk at her and take the chips and sandwich. “You’re lucky I love you so much, I am not as easily forgiven.” 

“And you're lucky that no one else here likes dill pickle. Besides, if I don’t look out for you, who else is going to huh?” She gives you a playful shove and walks towards the receptionist desk at the back.

 “So do you think he will actually follow through and show up?” she asks pensively.

You opened the bag of chips and popped one into your mouth, looking back out towards the mainstreet wistfully, Joel long gone by now. “I’m not sure honestly. He’s meeting me Thursday at the stables for our first session, so I guess we will see.” 

You tried to squash down your excitement at the hope of him actually showing up on Thursday. Your meeting today was positive but you knew all too well that talking about getting support was one thing, actually committing to it and showing up was the harder part. You had many clients who promised to follow through but ended up being no shows. You didn’t hold it against them and you tried not to take it personally, even when you saw them out and about in the community. Healing took time, it took optimism, it also took deep reflection and pain. Sometimes the biggest feat for clients was making that initial phone call or coming in for a consultation, but ultimately it was up to them to move forward, and they weren’t always ready for the next step. You knew better than to get your hopes up, even if the part of you that wanted to see Joel again was larger than you wanted to admit. 

“Well, it’d be a real shame if he didn’t,” Tracey sighed, “he’s fucking gorgeous. Probably the best looking DILF in the commune.” You choked on the chip you were swallowing, coughing profusely as she wiggled her eyebrows at you suggestively.

Fuck. When was Thursday again?

Taglist: @beskarandblasters, @pr0ximamidnight, @theewokingdead, @atinylittlepain, @prolix-yuy, @swiftispunk, @harriedandharassed, @amywritesthings, @atinylittlepain, @missgurrl, @silkiers, @jasminedragoon, @mayasopinions, @pedgeitopascal, @elegantduckturtle, @sarahhxx03, @Snow30285, @gracie7209, @stevieboyharrington, @kirsteng42, @pedrit0-pascalit0, @loquaciousferret, @axshadows, @a-sh-lyn, @dotcie, @tightjeansjavi, @dreamingofdaddydin, @pedritosdarling, @lhymer1995, @nerdreader, @suzmagine, @like-a-dirty-french-novel, @delicious-collection, @serenaxpedro, @iamasaddie, @javiscigarette, @spooky-nob, @mxtokko, @axshadows, @sn1peraj, @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff, @javiscigarette

[atrueneutral]

Writing Update & ‘Writing Interview’

Hello! Instead of providing a snippet this week, I’m going to give you a small update on where I’m at with this latest chapter of ‘Blood in the Wine’.

I’m wrapping up the chapter (maybe today, maybe tomorrow) then will need to edit. The chapter will be deployed soon so keep an eye out! We’re looking at around 7k - 8k words.

A bright side for the story is I’ll be doing more writing now that I’ve accomplished what I wanted to in FFXIV (for the time being).

Below the cut are my responses to the writing interview going around - thanks @pricemarshfield for the tag! ❤️

When did you start writing? I believe I started writing when I was the tender age of twelve years old. I decided to write some Kagome x InuYasha fics that are frozen in time on FF.net. Aside from the grammatical errors, the predictable plot and the out-of-character characterizations, I think the worst thing about them is that they weren’t Sesshomaru x Kagome.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write? I’m continually embarrassed to say I don’t read books anymore. Writing has given me the drive to crack more books open, but writing has also given me less time to read amongst work and the occasional video game session. Were I to read, I enjoy reading classical horror and supernatural tales here and there, outside of my love for mythology and classical romance.

I think if I write anything, it needs to have an angle of romance - even if it involved eldritch beings.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often? Ohhh, I have no idea… I just write how I write. 🤷‍♀️

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space? I normally write at my desktop computer, where my husband puts up with all of the clacking I do at my keyboard.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse? For me it’s listening to music and playing scenes out in my head. Certain songs with certain scenes I’ve concocted gear me up like nothing else to the point of wanting to scream.

The good kind of scream.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I like dealing with people who make poor decisions and watching the consequences unfold. I like themes of temptation. I like the classic good vs evil but with shades of gray on both sides. I like threading in the concept of fate.

No, they don’t surprise me. 

What is your reason for writing?

My reason for writing was because a story formed and put a theoretical gun against the head it was in; I had to realize it.

Now I write because another story has a gun to my head, and it’s fun being held hostage by my own plots. 

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I deeply cherish the comments that walk me through initial reaction to scenes (especially plot twists!) and how the writing affected the reader emotionally. I salivate over when readers theorize about what’s to come next or start to piece together elements of the plot.

It’s also been wonderful to hear that people think my writing is immersive! 

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

“That Neutral gal is super cool and mysterious and kind of funny at times.” I’m kidding! I’ll mirror what other writers have said in saying that I hope readers view me as approachable! I’m trying to stay what I view as being a healthy-arm’s-length-apart from fandom spaces, but it’s not my intent to discourage people from interacting with me! Interaction was the whole reason for making this writing blog. I’ve enjoyed all of the asks, the prompts, and the interactions I’ve had thus far!

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Believable dialogue and character interactions?

How do you feel about your own writing?

I like it, but then I read other people’s writing and go, “Wow, Neutral! You effing wish you could write like this. Your writing reads like hot garbage in comparison.”

So many talented people in the fandom stratosphere!

It’s a fun little see-saw of turmoil.

(No Pressure Tagging @theemptyislost ❤️ I believe everyone else I would have tagged has already been tagged!)

[lee-hakhyun]

need to pick up miniaturized lhh and throw him in front of max

[starwriterulia]

Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon - Chapter 3

SUBJECT MATERIAL WARNINGS FOR THIS FANFICTION ARE INCLUDED IN THE MASTERLIST POST OF MY BLOG AND THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FANFICTION.

Bat dividers by @violetbudd

Scene cut and creator support banners by @cafekitsune

Latest revision: August 18, 2024. Added scene cut "Support your creators by reblogging" banner. Added ⏭️ emoji below end of chapter banner with text explaining its function as a navigational button.

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily centric, no Batcest, Thalassic Space (OC; takes inspiration The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag, Silent Hill 2, Silent Hill 3, and other sci-fi, fantasy and horror titles, as well as original concepts, such as the science and lore of the galaxy.)

Chapter summary: Faith shares her full life story with Barbara, who brought soup, and with Dick and Bruce. Bruce tells his wards that he thinks Faith has a story she's withholding. Dick says he sensed that too, and they agree to wait for her to share it.

[In order of appearance] Characters: Faith Lawson (TBA; self-insert), Barbara Gordon (Batgirl), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Bruce Wayne (Batman).

Word Count: 3966 4486 (really short /still short, for something from me lol) 8165 (August 10 revision)

Content warnings: Extensive discussion about the loss of Faith's adoptive father, discussion about Faith's psychopathic ex-boyfriend Todd, brief light-hearted discussion about the difficulties of living with dwarfism, it's light-hearted because one can imagine how tiring that much talking would be for someone, especially with the flu!, discussion between Bruce, Dick and Barbara about what the story Faith might be hiding is likely about based on existing information.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

My eyes and throat were so sore, but I couldn't drink too much tea, or I'd throw it up, and my legs and arms were so chafed that I was really uncomfortable, so I couldn’t close my eyes. I wished I had a maternity pillow and a soft light source. I brought my Marley wired headphones with me, and I listened to "🏴‍☠️Pirate Tavern Terrace Ambience: Night Nature Sounds, Seashore Waves & Calm Ocean Breezes 🌌" by Sam'Relaxe - Ambiance Nature. My phone was tucked under and up to the right of my pillow, and I had another pillow between my legs. I groaned and sat up, turning from my left side with a third pillow under my chest, to my right side, facing the door. I fanned my legs out and tucked on arm under the pillow I laid my head on, and the other arm over its lower corner. The bedsheet was too hot. No, my legs were too hot, so the bedsheet was too hot.

I groaned, felt a burp, let it happen. Felt tightness in my chest, too much air, tried to burp it out. The burp came after two bumps of my left fist to my sternum. I sighed. I was too hot, and I was so incredibly uncomfortable.

I couldn't focus on the sound of the waves and birds, couldn't picture myself asleep on the sheltered upper balcony of the tavern, couldn't imagine the sounds of pirates, merfolk, anthros, elves and mages mingling, gambling, singing and dancing below. I couldn't keep my little grip of a peaceful night, and so I let go of it with my gaze to the floor as the bedroom door opened. I painfully looked up and saw Bruce in the glow of the hallway, wearing a charcoal blue shirt and black slacks. I smiled a little. "That's a nice colour on you." I croaked, then coughed, and it hurt. "Ow. May I ask you for a maternity pillow for my back, 'cause scoliosis sucks, and my legs, so they don’t chafe so much, and a soft light source? My brain goes nuts in the dark, and I know we're gonna work on that, but…"

"Yes, I'll get you both of those things, Faith. You're allowed to have a nightlight." His voice was nice. I felt my eyes flutter, caught in emotion.

"Thank you."

Bruce entered the room and sat on the floor, our eyes never breaking contact. "Do you get sick often?"

"No. I think I got this from a customer."

"You don't wear a mask at work?"

"Most people don't. I know, as a Liberal who gives a crap, that I should. But I'm from a small, country town that's still learning to accept queer people. We have Pride, and it's a pretty good turnout, but you get what I mean."

"Mhm."

"You really think people are going to look at me kindly if I wear a mask in 2024?"

"That's the thing, isn't it? You learn that COVID is here to stay, about its long term affects,"

"Mhm." I nodded a little.

"And it makes you want to mask-up. I get your concern. Have you ever had COVID?"

"Nope. As you can imagine, me being a writer with physical disability and a personality disorder, I don't have much reason to go outside. But I need to, and when the snow is gone, I try to go out for walks to one of the parks that are both, like, really close to my apartment."

"Good."

"Ferland Park is the smaller one. It's got a water park, a playground that gets updated every so often, and a nice area for the Farmer's Market, every Thursday in the summer and early fall. Riverside Park has the big loop, a playground, and a sheltered picnic area, and I hear its beach and water is quite nice."

"That sounds nice. Do you like to go to the market or river often?"

"Oh, I go to the market, but I can't swim, I-I've always had anxiety in pools, so I'm like, what's the point of wading?"

Bruce hummed. "Another thing we'll have to teach you."

"Oh yeeeah. The vendors are varied enough, the food vendors are good, and there's even an open mic, if you bring an instrument or just want to sing."

"Nice."

"Yeah, it’s a nice little town."

"You haven’t told me what town it is." He probably already knows which town.

"Oh! Vanderhoof."

"Oh, I love Vanderhoof." Bruce said. I giggled. "I haven't been there in a while."

"Well, swing by some time on a Thursday in summer, and I'll take you to Fields to meet my boss, if she's there! Please buy our socks." I laughed. Bruce chuckled.

"Too many socks?"

I used the cutesy, voice my co-workers and I used. "Oh, so many socks, please help us!" I used my normal voice. "Then again, bringing Bruce Wayne on this Earth, they'll be like, "Oh wow, how did you me-et?"," Bruce chuckled. "If it's on my Earth, they'll be like, "Oh my God, that's so cool! You're gonna be Batgirl!"" Bruce chuckled more. ""And you made a perfect copy of yourself so you could be in both worlds at once? Wow!"" I said, deadpanned, "My boss will want to meet Green Arrow." Bruce laughed in his chest.

"So, along with your goals for your physical health, we've now got two other things to cover."

"Yeah. I'd really like my legs back. I forgot how to run and jump, after I broke my knee."

"Fear."

"Yep. I watch people do it, and I can't figure it out in my head."

"We can help you with that."

"Mhm!"

"And Faith?"

"Mhm?"

"It's OK if you get hurt. We'll all be there to help."

I nodded. "Thanks."

"You also look very uncomfortable and overheated."

"I aaaam. I don't sleep with clothes on. Our bodies sweat, so it's healthier and more comfortable to sleep nude. The first part of that, my mom taught me."

"Hm, well, it's true. You can take your clothes off to sleep, if you want."

"Thank you." I sat up, removed my shirt, "Ugh, ew." And threw it behind me, heard it collide with the wall, and took off my pants and underwear, and threw them in that direction too. I bent my arms in and stretched my shoulders. "Guh." Then rolled my shoulders a little.

"Your muscles sound very tense."

"They usually are." I said, and laid back down, sighing with content.

"Better?"

"Yes. Actually, there's a thin blanket, right?"

"Yep, right here." Bruce stood up and reached over me for a thin fleece blanket. His arm brushed against my lower thigh, and I failed to cover a soft exhale. "Sorry."

"You’re uh-OK." I stifled laughter in my throat and looked down at the bed.

"Faith Indianna." A light redness was in Bruce’s cheeks.

"Oh, of course you know my first middle name, without me telling you." I had three, total. The first one was given to me by my birth mom, and the other two after I was adopted.

"I am Batman."

"You are Batman. Blanket, please." I said. Bruce draped the blanket over my body from the shoulders down. "Oh, perfect. Actually, a little below the shoulders."

"Don’t wanna be too hot under there."

"Nope." I said, as Bruce took hold of the blanket and moved it to the middle of my back, briefly touching my skin and hair. His fingers were large and coarse, but the sensation of a masculine person's skin was lovely, and I didn't care this time when I let out a sigh.

"How about there?"

"That's even better."

"Good." He said, softly. I blushed. Bruce chuckled through his nose, and rose from the bed, walking to the door. "I'll leave you to sleep. Maybe you'll have better luck now."

"Thank you." I closed my eyes, and heard the door close.

Faith stirred from her light sleep as the early morning sun shone through the curtains of the guest room. She said, "Why did I have to submit to the horny thoughts just a little bit when Bruce Wayne is like the gayest bisexual man to ever be a gay-leaning bisexual man?" She giggled and groaned to cringe at herself.

"Like, I’m sure it’s fine, but in retrospect, that was just disrespectful enough that I’m sorry." She looked up at her nightstand, sat up, and grabbed her tea. It was cold, but Faith didn’t care. It helped a little bit. “Oh, how long…?”

She turned on the bedside lamp to check the time. It was 4:53 AM. “Eh, I got a little bit.” There was knocking at the door. Faith scrambled to cover her chest with the blanket. “Hello?”

“Can I come in?” It was a woman’s voice.

‘Barbara?’ Faith thought, her mouth opening all the way. “Uh, yeah girl!”

The door opened, and when Faith saw that it was Barbara, she gasped and lifted her upper lip to smile. “You knew it was me right away, huh?”

“Eh, it was more of a guess. Actually, it was all a guess.” Faith said, as Barbara entered carrying a tray with a steaming bowl and a bun, with a spoon and a little plate with butter on it, a butter knife beside the plate.

“How are ya feeling?” Barbara said, setting the tray down on the bed, at Faith’s feet.

“A little better. I probably wouldn’t have slept much better at home.”

“No?”

“No, I’d have to step outside for some fresh air. It’s still winter, so I can’t have a window open.”

“True. You don’t have a fan?”

“I do, but I didn’t think that would help.”

“Oh, it would, believe me. You can’t be hot all the time when your sick, even though that’s what your body does to fight infection.”

“Oh yeah, right. Could you grab me my shirt from the floor?” Faith pointed to the pile of clothes against the wall. “I don’t wanna get soup droplets on the blankets.”

“Sure.” Barbara went, picked up the black T-shirt, and offered it to Faith. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Faith dropped the blanket and put on the shirt.

“Oh, you had a breast reduction?” Barbara said, sitting on the bed as Faith lifted the tray into her lap.

Faith blew on what she scooped up in her spoon. “Yeah, I used to be an F cup.” She ate what was on her spoon, filled it again, and continued eating at that decent pace.

“Ooh, yeah, I get why you got rid of them. What are you, now?”

“C cup.”

“Nice. Bet your back feels better.” Barbara said. Faith nodded while blowing on her spoon. “You said you have scoliosis, but I’m assuming it’s minor.”

“Yeah. I’ve got it in two places at the small of my back, and surprisingly my adoptive mom has it in three places, at the same area.”

“Oh, OK. Is your dad doing all right?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right. Huh, I didn’t tell you guys in the group chat?”

“Nope.”

“Eh, well, I’ve had a rough life, lots to talk about.”

“Does Bruce know?”

“Yeah, he knows.”

“How did he pass?”

“Aortic dissection.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Faith inhaled and exhaled through her nose and stopped eating. Barbara shifted her lips. “When was the last time you saw him?”

 “Early November. Mom, Dad and I went to the Co-op Hardware Store to buy new Christmas trees. Mom found the fully-frothed tree she’d always wanted, and I got a small tree that’s actually about my height.” Faith lifted a spoonful and blew.

“Oh nice. Did you not have one, before?”

“I had one a little shorter than me, and it was kind of skinny, and in a pot, with the lights already in it. Grandma gave it to me.” Faith blew on the spoon again and ate its contents.

“Cute.”

“Dad wasn’t feeling well. He was pale and sweaty.”

“Why hadn’t he seen a doctor?”

Faith set her spoon on the tray. “He thought his blood pressure medications weren’t being paid for, and he had to go to camp for his new job. He left his old job because of his boss, I think. When Dad’s doctor found out, he said that if Dad had called, he could have helped.”

Barbara clicked her tongue. “Oh.”

Faith picked up her spoon and filled it. “He stayed in the car as Mom and I went into the Independent Grocer that I used to work at, trying to get back into his Facebook.” She blew on the spoon. “And he kept trying, even after I failed to help, as Mom and I decorated my new tree with the decorations Grandma gave me. November 27th, I was watching YouTube, and I remember having a dream, though I don’t remember it anymore, and waking up knowing something wasn’t right.” Barbara hummed. Faith ate what was on her spoon. “At 1 PM, my brother, Tanner, texted me that Dad had fallen at his new job. We don’t know how long he was unconscious before the girl who worked at the office found him and took him to the Burns Lake hospital.”

“Are you from Burns Lake?”

Faith shook her head, filling her spoon again. “No, Vanderhoof. He was an hour and a half away. And it was 2021.”

“Oh, so you couldn’t even see him!”

“Doctor didn’t get there until four.”

“Oh no.”

“He woke up twice.” Faith blew on her spoon. “Once in Brie’s truck, once at the hospital. The nurse was pumping a dead man’s chest.” Faith moved her bottom lip with her teeth, eyes watering. “Tanner texted me just before four o’clock, offering to drive me to our grandparents, where Mom was with auntie Penny, her older sister. Auntie Melanie is the little sister.” Faith ate the soup on her spoon. She held the empty spoon in the air as she continued.

“When we got there, Grandma and Grandpa met us at the door. They had just found out that Dad was gone. Tanner softly said, “No.”, and I softly said, “Fuck, why?” as our grandparents hugged us and walked with us to the living room. I sat on mom’s right, Tanner on her other side. We cried for forty-five minutes.” Faith sighed. Barbara sighed sympathetically and rubbed Faith’s back a little. Faith lowered the spoon to the tray.

“Tanner called Dad’s brother and step-mom, Grandma Edie. She’s having a tough battle with cancer. Tanner’s girlfriend, Melanie, came over, and uncle Dale and uncle Daren, auntie Penny and auntie Melanie’s husbands. My grandpa and uncles drank beer for Dad while we all talked and cried. Auntie Ruth and uncle Russ came over when it was dark out. They live on the same street as my grandparents, and they brought pizza and sparkling water.” Faith repleted her spoon, blew once, and ate.

“I forgot my meds, so my brother drove me back to my apartment with Melanie, and a deer ran across the driveway. When I got back, I told Mom about the deer, and that it was Dad, but she shook her head. I wasn’t going to tell her, but as a pagan, I genuinely was shocked and touched that mother nature had sent a sign.”

Barbara hummed. “I like that you remember that.”

Faith sniffled and smiled a little. It sank into a frown as she continued. “We didn’t sleep well. Mom didn’t sleep at all. That morning, older cousins in town came to visit, and brought flowers and cookies. I learned that my dad not only gave money to family and friends in need, but would take time out of his day to help with mechanical problems, if he was able to. He was very much a good example of a family man, a redneck with a heart. He was from Texas, too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, a small town called Gilmer that’s I think five hours away from Houston?”

“Oh, OK.”

“And, uh. Oh. I know it was November 27th because SNL was doing a Thanksgiving skit.” Barbara gave a hum of intrigue. “Grandpa changed it to fishing, after a while. We watched for Dad. Most of our family loves hunting, fishing and camping. We used to do it every fall, but it takes time and money to go camping.”

“True, you need lots of supplies. What lakes did you usually go to?”

“Mm, Grizzly Lake a few times, but we stopped ‘cause it’s so cramped, so fast. Frank Lake, I remember, uh… there’s a couple I’m not remembering. I liked to play with my toys and the Internet as a kid, but I was only allowed to take books, paper and writing supplies, and my brother and I used to take our bikes, when we had them. I remember the rocky shore of Frank Lake, it was nice. I love rocks.” Faith said with a funny accent and smiled.

“You love rocks, eh?”

“I love rocks. Gimme a rock that’s got some shine, or a cool colour or pattern, or transparent agate, and I will literally be so happy.”

Barbara giggled. “OK, I’ll remember that.”

“I mean, thanks to my Dragon Persona, I can grant you a wish if you give me a rock, gem, flower, plant seeds and saplings, or art of any kind, but you can also just give ‘em to me for fun.” Faith giggled.

Barbara laughed with her. “All right then! You like to garden?”

“I love plants, but I’ve never grown one on my own.” Barbara hummed. “Um.” Faith sighed. “We didn’t see Dad until two weeks later. Or was it three? No, two. I think.”

“They did a good job on him. Mom picked out a nice green and blue flannel for him.” She held up her hands. “But his hands. They were purple.” Faith laid her hands on her lap. “And I just wanted him to hold a cup of coffee, or even just a beer, again.” Barbara gently held Faith’s left hand. “I remember Mom sitting on the chair, her, Tanner, my grandparents and I about six feet away. Mom said, “I love you”, Tanner said, “Goodbye, Dad.”, and I said, “Thank you.”.”

Faith sighed. “We walked out of the room, and Mom had to sit on the bench and cry. Auntie Melanie came in, and then auntie Penny, auntie Ruth and uncle Russ, and they comforted her. We went out while my aunts and uncles saw my dad. I had to stop after I descended the stairs to cry. But when I looked at my brother, I stopped. I just… he was so close with my dad. He lost the most important man in his life, just like my mom. They were married for twenty-four years.”

“Were you close with your dad?” Barbara gingerly asked.

Faith sighed again. “Maybe? In our hearts, we were. I never spent much time with either of my parents because of my personality disorder, and j-just how difficult it was and how long it took for me to feel at home, like I had a family, after how my foster parents treated me. But I know he loved me,” Faith bowed her head and tears began to fall, her voice becoming murky. “And I know I loved him because I miss him every time I see something he liked, every time I don’t know what to make for dinner and I think of his favourite meals that I’m able to make without a barbeque, and whenever I see or hear or think of something that’s just him, and then I see him in my dreams sometimes, and it’s so surreal to almost see his face, but not quite, and hear him, but it’s not quite right either, and I just want to hug him again.” Faith sobbed.

“On Thanksgiving, C-Canadian Thanksgiving, apparently I ignored him? I didn’t even say hello or hug him! He thought he had done something wrong, and I told Mom ‘no’, and Dad dropped something off a few days later, and I hugged him, and told him I loved him, and he said it back. And before then, I missed my mom’s message about there being a barbeque on the weekend near my birthday, so I could have had his food one more time.” Faith cried, wiping her tears with the back of her hands.

“I’m sorry, Faith.” Barbara whispered, rubbing her back.

“My mom was the type of mourner who got rid of most of his stuff, and she regrets that. And she had a hard time finding love, again. Roger treats her OK, but she’s had times where I’ve had to offer my ten cents, and she’s always in awe, and the reason I know what words to say is because I read! And I like video games, and other media. I read people’s comments and watch videos of people talking about stories and characters, and how realistic and compelling they are or are not. Dad was so loved, and when we had his memorial, on his birthday that year, I think? Family, friends, and even strangers came by, and I remember hugging and crying to my mom as I looked at the pictures on the table, ‘cause there was this one of me and Tanner on the beach when we were driving down to Texas in Easter of 2008 or ‘9, and I told her I just wanted to travel and come back with stories, and now Dad would never hear them.” Faith sobbed.

“Thalassic Space exists because I lost him. Sorcery on Grace, planet Grace, was its own thing, I was just gonna do a slightly unique fantasy story, and then I made a whole galaxy so I could have Santa, and if you lost your dad and were close with him, or you just miss him like I do, then he sounds like him. Otherwise, he sounds like a German man, ha ha ha!” Barbara chuckled. “My parents saved me from my foster home. I was trying to take my time with adjusting to adult life after finally getting therapy and going to a group home in Terrace in May and June of 2019 for mental health work, which I only took advantage of during the second and last month I was there because, well, free Internet and food,” Barbara snickered. “But it worked, and I even saw a stop the violence councillor, and talked with her about my feelings and memories about my life as a foster kid, and she helped me realise I needed to talk with my mom about it. So, I did, when I came home, and I have the full picture now. The group home forgot to book my seat, but a kind Christian lady paid for me,”

“Aw.”

“And when the bus pulled up to St. John’s Hospital, and I saw Mom standing at the curb, I gasped, and I got off and hugged her and cried.” Faith sniffled, eyes still watering. “And I chatted with her as we drove to the homestead that my parents, auntie Melanie and uncle Daren bought in 2019, it’s almost seven acres out on Highway 27.”

“Ooh, nice.”

“Yeah, they’ve really made it homely. My parents had a small house built, and my aunt and uncle had a trailer home moved in. Mom started crying and reached over to touch my hair because she missed me talking.” Faith laughed through her tears. “Of the Mr. Men, I have always been Miss Chatterbox.”

“Aw.” Barbara giggled.

“I moved out the next month, in July, and then COVID got serious. It was an interesting first winter, as an adult. I-I hadn’t moved out before because of my anxiety and depression, and my one boyfriend I had, Todd, he was still in town. He’s not anymore.”

“Oh, good.”

“He was a real psycho. Tried to kill his parents and younger brother with poisonous berries from the woods outside their house.”

“Oh!”

“He hid them in his room until his mom found them, and he would’ve gone to juvey had he not cried ‘child abuse’. I think that’s why he was put in the safe home. Either that, or I only remember that because that’s how Todd put it. He said it was ‘cause his parents wouldn’t buy him the Lord of the Rings books.”

“And you were willingly friends with him?”

“Well, both of us were desperate for friends, and in our own ways, social outcasts. It was all fine, or as fine as a friendship with someone like Todd could be. On Halloween, we needed volunteer hours, and handed out candy at the Pumpkin Walk our town has almost every year. The only reason we had a Halloween without one was COVID.”

“Mhm.”

“So, we held hands in the car as our teacher drove me home first, which, if they didn’t want him to know where I lived, he should’ve been dropped off first, but I dunno. The teacher insisted I go home first.” Faith sighed. “He came over like, a week later, on a Saturday.”

“You had him at your house?” Barbara and a young man outside the door said.

“Oops.” Said the young man.

Faith gasped and smiled. “Is that you, Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah.” Dick opened the door, exposing himself.

Faith noticed a figure at the side of the door. ‘That’s definitely Bruce.’

“Sorry for eavesdropping.”

“Eh, it’s kind of a Batkid thing, ain’t it?”

“Yeeeeah.” Dick and Barbara laughed.

“You can sit on the floor if you want. Storytime is gonna take like, fifteen more minutes, if y’all wanna hear everything I remember. Maybe ten, if I continue to try to time-crunch.”

Dick and Barbara laughed more. “Sure.” Dick sat on the floor near the bed.

“Anyway, yeah, I had him over for dinner, and we played video games with my brother. Our house had two sections, a mancave above the garage connected to the other part of the house via a breezeway to the basement and a bridge to the kitchen.”

“Ooh, that’s unique.” Barbara said.

“Yeah, it was a nice house. Surrounded by a fence of tall fir trees. Or were they spruce? We lived there for two years. Then we bought the homestead. Um, over dinner, Todd did mention that he got in trouble as a kid, but didn’t elaborate, so my parents were suspicious. Mom had already been told that I should be careful around him by a teacher, who couldn’t say more,”

“Because it was confidential,” Dick said with Faith. “Right.”

“Mom asked me if he told me anything. I’m not a good liar, and I always get in trouble when I try, so she knew that I knew something, when I told her I didn’t. He was supposed to come over the following Friday, but six o’clock came and went, and I kept trying to call the safe home. He finally picked up at 6:15 saying something had come up.” Faith patted the bed. “He had a black eye on Monday.”

“He punched himself.” Said Dick.

“He first told me that the Bible-thumping ex-friend he told me about at the library, which we frequented, gave him a ‘hello’ present. That day, I went outside with him, and watched him go into an insurance building as I went to the store I now work at for candy.”

“He was paying off a felony, wasn’t he?” Dick said.

“Bet you he was.” Said Barbara.

“When I told my mom this story, she basically said it was bullshit and to ask him what really happened. The next day, he said that a staff lady had punched him, and then he went to the police.”

“Still doesn’t explain the felony.” Said Dick.

“Dick, she’s trying to say all of this as quick as possible.” Barbara said.

“Sorry. Sorry, Faith.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Faith said, exhaling. “Gives me time to breathe.” Barbara giggled. “Mom didn’t believe that either, of course. OK, I usually don’t say this when I’m telling this story, but I’m missing a day in my memory.”

“You are?” Said Dick.

“I know the last time we went to the library was Thursday, and we hugged goodbye on Friday. So, either Mom found out about Todd’s black eye on Tuesday, not Monday, or I forgot what happened on Wednesday because nothing happened.”

“Hm, OK. Just something to note?”

“Yeah, just a little gap in my usually really good memory.”

Bruce poked his head through the doorway. “Sorry.”

“Hi, no, you’re fine.”

“That’s not important to why Ra’s brought you here, is it?”

“No, it’s just my brain not remembering.”

“OK.” Bruce occupied the doorway.

“Anyway, Thursday,” Bruce came into the room, sitting beside Dick. “Wow, what a nice little story time circle we have going on, here.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Barbara said. She, Dick and Faith laughed. Bruce’s body moved.

“We knew we were going to be broken up, and we sat on the couch at the kids’ section. We didn’t kiss, thank God,”

“No kidding, yeesh!” Barbara said.

“But we did kiss each other’s hair, which was just as awkward and dread-filled as the entire forty-five minutes we sat there. In hindsight, I feel a different kind of dread than I did.”

“Oh yeah.” Said Dick.

“Todd sounds like he was scary.” Bruce said.

“Yeah, and now I can’t read or hear that name without panicking a little, and I don’t like men with particularly triangular faces. Extra red flags if he has blue eyes and curly dark blonde hair. He was cute, but now I realise he looked like an abusive pretty blond who thinks Andrew Tate is all the shit, and I just get the ick.”

Barbara hummed. “Yeah.”

“So, that day, while we were at Valhalla, I think in the morning, he told me the truth. Because none of the staff would drive him to my house, because he’s dangerous, he went outside, where there were cameras, gave himself the black eye, and went to the police, saying that a staff lady did it,”

“Hence the felony.” All four said.

“Yep.” Faith said.

“Knew it.” Said Dick.

“I remember looking at him as we were in the little computer room, asking him why. And he said he just wanted to see me. And my mom knew that was true, he did actually like me, and I felt the same. He just was not a safe person.”

“You can say that again, yeesh.” Said Barbara.

“We weren’t allowed to go outside together on Friday, and before we hugged goodbye, he gave me his favourite necklace: a silver Triforce on a black string.”

Barbara asked, “Do you still have it?”

“No. Some time earlier in that semester, Todd had given me a bunch of his stuff. A couple of D&D books by a famous author, and some banned, older Yu-Gi-Oh! and MTG cards. It was pretty cool stuff. He’d also given me a green bandana that smelled like him to me, but it just smelled like his wool jacket, and rain. When I got home on Friday, my parents had, of course, been asking around, trying to find out what Todd did. His uncle drove a truck for the logging company my dad was the shop foreman of, and that’s how Dad found out.”

“Ahhh.” Said Dick.

“My memory of the lecture is kinda hazy, but I think that’s just because I was so dazed that I had been manipulated so easily by my first close friend since Lisa, and before her, Fenna, both a year, or maybe it was two, after the other. Lisa was a Jehovah’s Witness who was using anime and yaoi to rebel, and Fenna was a wolf girl. Both of them loved writing and reading, like me, and were social outcasts who couldn’t even hang with the punk kids. Lisa stopped rebelling near the end of my tenth-grade year, and I know that because I broke my knee after she dropped out, but that was because she was being bullied. She didn’t tell me, her friend, that she was being bullied. Not my friend.”

“Not your friend, all right.” Barbara said, nodding.

“Fenna and I had an argument. Don’t remember what about, but I said something, as I tended to do, and it hurt her, but I didn’t understand why because I was probably being brutally honest. I haven’t talked to Lisa in years, though she did dye my hair brown the summer I moved out of the homestead. Fenna, I see now and then, and they’re now non-binary and pansexual, so it’s cool to have that in common.”

“Nice.”

“And we get along better. She doesn’t remember what the argument was about, either.”

“Oh, good.”

“Anyway, I remember doing the dishes that night, it was usually my chore, and I’m always mumbling or singing to myself ‘cause my brain is busy and there’s imaginary people in my head, always stirring up some kind of scenario. I don’t think I was, that night. I must have been so quiet that my parents noticed, ‘cause they came in to hug me and tell me they were sorry. Mom kissed me for the first time. The next time was a few weeks after we lost Dad, and we were sitting in her truck after doing something in town together.”

“When I came back from the group home, we finally connected, but I really got to see how emotional and special my mom is, when Dad died. Uh, Mom helped me write a letter to Todd, and she brought his stuff to Valhalla and brought back the rest of my schoolwork for the semester. I kept his bandana, but couldn’t for the night, the day she returned the stuff. I came out of my room crying, and told my mom to hide it, ‘cause I couldn’t have it. And she said, ‘Oh-Kay!’, in a very baffled way, and put it in the master bedroom. I think I remember finding it, later. I just left it there. I think I remember giving it a stank face.”

“Like the one you’re making right now?”

“Yeah.” Faith laughed. “I was so depressed when school started again that I had no energy or desire to do my schoolwork. I handed in the last of it, and a few pages related to poetry weren’t done because I hated it, which is funny because I’m a writer and I write songs, and that was just enough to pass. I was one of the kids whose yearbook picture was taken in the media arts room, instead of the auditorium. I had a blackheads issue on my nose, and I’ve always been a skin picker, and to that extent, a scab picker.”

“Todd’s yearbook quote was about him being excited to travel to Japan and Korea with me. I don’t remember my quote, exactly, but it was about me wanting to publish and something else I wanted to do at the time. And my name isn’t on the back of the book, because they didn’t think I would graduate. Didn’t do prom or grad. I probably would’ve hated both.”

“The one school dance I went to in early tenth grade, I danced alone for most of the time. It was exhausting, boring, and depressing.” Barbara clicked her tongue. “I wanted to see what they were like, is all. I danced with a sort-of friend, a girl who was nice to me, probably because she had seen the little bit of light that my disorder shadowed. But she remembered the shadow again because I probably reminded her of it, so our friendship ended.” Barbara and Dick hummed.

“And grad just sounds boring. I would’ve been looking at the audience, observing people’s hair, clothes, faces and accessories, trying to learn something, and been brought out of la-la land by my name being read aloud.”

“Ah, so you literally zone-out while studying people.” Said Dick.

“Yeah! It’s part of my disorder.”

“What were you trying to learn?” Barbara said.

“How friendship worked.”

“Oh.”

“My books, toys, digital media, the Internet, that was all I had. Because I wasn’t nice to my brother, I didn’t learn from him, and our personalities and interests clashed. He wanted to play racing games on the Wii, and I wanted to play LEGO games because they were telling a story without using words, and I could look up the story online and even ask Mom and Dad if we could watch the movie. Tanner had LEGOs, by the way. It and the video games were supposed to help with his hand-eye coordination and his nystagmus.” Barbara hummed.

“Anyway, if I had done grad, Mom probably would have told me she thought I was going to miss my call, and I would have told her ‘No, I wouldn’t have’, and she would have said, ‘Yes, you would have, Faith’, probably condescendingly. Did I use the right tone, when I said that?”

“Yeah, that sounded right.” Said Dick.

“OK good, I get vocal tones wrong sometimes, when I’m not using my customer service voice. Even that breaks, sometimes. Yeesh. Dad would have been smiling, just glad that I got through it, and Tanner would’ve been awkwardly glad, too. Like I said, I was really mean to him. Then my mom literally slapped me, pulled my hair and called me a cow, some time in tenth grade.”

“Ow.” Said Barbara.”

“Or was it would-have-been-eleventh? Did I tell you I tried homeschooling?”

“Yes, in the group chat.”

“OK, good. Did I tell you that being on QuoteV while I tried homeschooling is how I assumed the title of pansexual?”

“No, you did not.” Said Dick.

“Uh, painful story short. I told you I’m an Internet addict, right?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, Homestuck was popping off in 2015. That’s how, but I was also discovering how awesome American horror movies, Creepypasta and SCP are, and I made a friend.”

“Yay, Faith!” Barbara cheered.

Faith and Barbara giggled. Faith said, “I lost touch with my Homestuck friends, and I even remembering hurting and apologising to one of them that I was pretty close with. But this genderfluid friend, who is now Michael, they weren’t particularly cute or handsome. Buckteeth, big eyes, ovular face. But I trusted them, and we had a lot of good times together.”

“So much that we tried being a couple. For one day. No, five minutes. See, part of my disorder is that I say things out of the blue. I’m an impulsive speaker, and when I was younger, even up to the end of high school, I was an impulsive actor. My mom had a friend over when I came out, and it didn’t go well.”

“Well, of course it wouldn’t, what did you expect, hon?” Said Barbara.

“I was just so excited to give my mom a new word to explain why I was so weird! And she had already suggested I might be autistic, but that made me cry ‘cause 2012-2017 was even less of a friendly time for neurodivergent kids. Not that I had any friends to worry about, I just felt like it made me even more of an ugly duckling.”

“But that means you’re a swan.” Bruce said.

“Oh yeah. Thanks. I’m too used to being mean to myself.”

“Time for that to change, Faith.” Faith lifted her cheeks to smile. Bruce mirrored the motion.

Dick said, “So, how did you react, when you got diagnosed with your disorder?”

“Everything made sense! I felt better! For the record, now that I’m more familiar with how autistic people actually live, how most of them are just friendly people who literally see and interact with the world differently, I-I just feel less stressed, and I think they’re cool! It’s always neat to learn from the person themselves, or whoever is assigned to help them, what their experience is like.”

“Oh, definitely.”

Barbara said, “Would you feel those good thoughts towards yourself, if you were to be diagnosed, today?”

“Yeah. It’d make sense. I think there’s a bit of overlap. I’m probably Level 1, or borderline, and both would be good.”

“Good.”

“Uhhhh, where the heck was I…? Oh! Michael. He commented on one of my K-pop album unboxing videos that I made in 2019, and it was nice to hear he was doing all right. But I turned off the comments of the videos because I was trying to obey my mom’s insistence that I was not gay.”

“For four years, I was vaguely transphobic. Trying to convince myself that my mom was right, but something just felt off, when I tried to look at them meanly. It’s because I loved them. I love queer people, and while I don’t know any neo-pronouns or xeno-genders, if a person with them were to be comfortable around me to share, I would use the heck out of them. Because it’s right, and it’s who they are.”

“Damn right, girl!” Barbara said.

“Damn right!” Faith repeated. She, Barbara and Dick laughed. “All of that, just to please my mom. Just to make her shut up and like me.” Faith was quiet for a few seconds.

“My dream world mom is like that. We argue. I try to kill her, lots of the time, and she tries to kill me back. It’s just like our arguments we had when I was a kid and teen, but without the violence. The same reddened face, the same raised voice, and my tears and stammering. She’s still transphobic.” Faith’s phone vibrated and jingled.

'I believe Chandra just gave Faith an update from the future about that issue.' Bruce thought.

“But I finally stopped giving a shit, when I moved out and reconnected with the community after I turned off the comments. I wish I hadn’t, so I could read the little conversation I had with Michael. But I’ve got my Homestuck friends now, even though I don’t interact with them often ‘cause I’m either at work, doing house work or other things. I’ve always played by myself, and playing with other people is a challenge. I have times where I have to keep my mouth shut so I’m not narcissistic, but sometimes I fail to do that, and I want to apologize, but instead I try to focus, but by then, the topic or joke has changed. All of this because my foster parents didn’t give a damn.”

“That’s rough, Faith.” Said Dick.

“Yeah, that sucks.” Barbara said.

“Thanks. Geez, that’s not even talking about my physical struggles! Basically!” Faith clapped once. Barbara giggled, and Dick snickered. A breath came from Bruce. “Being a dwarf sucks! It’s hard!”

“Short arms! Almost long enough to reach what I need to, but nope! Scoliosis! Mine ain’t debilitating, and it doesn’t affect my posture that much, but I can’t sit or stand for too long, and I can’t sleep on my back, even with smaller boobs! Except for when they were healing after my surgery, but my back did hurt in the morning. I toss and turn about eight times, sometimes less, or much less if I’m exhausted and in pain already, and I sleep on my stomach with my arms tucked under my chest like a penguin.” Faith put her arms straight down over her boobs and giggled. Barbara and Dick laughed. “And no, this doesn’t make them numb! The left one can be, if I sleep with it under a pillow, though.”

“Huh.” Said Barbara.

“Interesting.” Dick said.

“Oh God, my feet. Did I tell you about them, in the group chat?”

“Yep.”

“You did.” Said Barbara.

“Oh, good. ‘Cause they suck, too. Last but not least, my knees. Did I tell you the story?”

“Yes.” Said Barbara, Dick and Bruce.

“And the story of your foster care life, and adoption.” Said Dick.

“Oh wow, I actually told you that, before now? Nice.” Barbara giggled. Faith sighed. “OK! I think that’s all the details you need to know that I didn’t tell y’all, yesterday.”

“Thank you, Faith.” Said Bruce.

“Yeah, thanks.” Dick said. “That was really helpful.”

“And interesting!” Barbara said. “You’ve had such a detailed life, in twenty-four years!”

“I’m going to eat my soup, now.” Faith picked up the spoon and ate.

“Is it cold, now?”

"It's warm, but it’s fine. I’ll puke it up later, and that’ll be fine too. I’ll just keep stuffing my face with soup until my stomach stops being angry, and then the moon will be like IT’S TIME.” Barbara laughed loudly.

“Yep, all right.” Dick said, standing up. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Three hours, give or take.”

“Well, that’s all right, I guess.”

“I’ll get more.”

“Yep.” He said to Barbara, “I’ll be downstairs.”

“OK, babe.”

Dick said to Faith, “See you when you’re not sick, Faith.”

“OK, bye! Thanks for visiting.”

“Bye.” Dick exited the room.

“Got everything you need, hon?” Barbara said.

“I think so. Oh, no. Actually, yeah.”

“Hm?”

“My tea can stay cold for now.”

“Oh, your tea!” Barbara dismounted the bed, stepped around and grabbed the cup. “Sure, I can heat that up for you. I’ll even throw it in a little thermos, so it’ll stay warm.”

“Oh, that’d be great, thank you.”

“Mhm! Back in a sec.” Barbara left the bedroom.

“Do you tell your story often?” Bruce asked.

Faith nodded. “I make friends easily, now. I just don’t talk to them often, er, well, my Homestuck friends, because, like I said,”

“I make myself busy.” “You make yourself busy.”

Bruce said, “That’s OK. It’s good that you don’t have issues making friends, now. Maybe we can help you with your time management, too.”

“Oh, that’d be nice. A real challenge, but I’d like to try that, too.”

“It’s hard to break a habit you’ve had all your life.”

“Yeah. It’s possible, though.”

“Oh yes.” Bruce inhaled and got to his feet. “I’ll be off, too. I was just checking on you when I heard you talking with Barbara, and then Dick was standing there, so I joined him.” Faith giggled. “Oh, and don’t worry about that.”

Faith furrowed her eyebrows. One second later, she inhaled. ‘OH, the skin-grazing thing I was panicking about.’ “Oh, oh good. Thanks.” She chuckled. She furrowed her brow again. ‘Wait, I said that before Barbara came in.’ “There’s a spyhole to this room, isn’t there?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Your parents’ bedroom is to the left of this one. You never go in there. Ooh, no! It’s a spying room.”

Bruce said nothing for two seconds. “The Internet has my house plans.”

“Someone on DeviantArt made them.”

“Well, they’ve got a creative mind.”

“Apparently, it took them a lot of time and research to make it work.”

“I bet it did.” Bruce approached the bed, took the crown of Faith’s head into his hand, and kissed her head. “Have a good rest of your sleep, Faith.”

“Thanks, Bruce.” Faith said. Bruce exited the room, leaving the door cracked open. Dick knew the small head movement Bruce made to pull him aside. Barbara tailed along, out of curiosity.

"There's a story she hasn't told us yet." Bruce said, quietly.

"You think so too?" Said Dick.

"I dunno, I think she got it all out." Barbara said.

Bruce shook his head. "There's a memory she's ashamed of. One that she feels will offend us too greatly."

"Gee, what could that be?" Dick said.

Barbara said. "I guess all there is to do is wait for her to share with us."

"We could also try to coax it out of her." Said Bruce.

"No." Said Dick.

"No!" Barbara said, hushed.

"Bruce, she could probably use Platonia to leave us whenever she wants to. Then it'd be her, without any help or training, against Ra's, and she'd be doomed."

"Exactly." Said Barbara.

Bruce said, "She wouldn't leave out of fear of our reaction. I think it's a story she's been wanting to tell someone who will understand why it wasn't her fault. That it was just another mistake she made as a child, that, I'm guessing, she was disciplined for immediately. This is a story she has likely only told to her closest friends, who she doesn't talk to because of lifestyle and socialisation habits." Dick and Barbara hummed, each nodding.

"She needs a new close friend to share this with." Barbara said.

"Yes."

"She doesn't share it because she was dicisplined without an explanation."

"People with Reactive Attachment Disorder know right from wrong, just like any other child. What matters is how, and how frequently, their guardian corrects their behaviour. Faith was likely disciplined many, many times by her adoptive parents, but it didn't make any difference because they never explained in extensive detail why her actions were wrong, or perhaps did once, but never did again. She'll share her story. And she'll need a hug instead of a scolding."

"Right." Said Dick.

"She's been so willing to share her life story because she was left behind by the people who were supposed to never do so. When I reached over to grab that light blanket for her, my arm brushed her leg, and she made a small lewd gasp, and blushed, and apologised, though I let her know it was fine. I think the story she's afraid to tell us is related to why her hormones are so bottled up, and maybe why she found asexuality to make sense for her identity. It might not be sexual assault, it might just be Internet exposure."

"Mhm." Barbara nodded.

"We should try not to judge if she intitated the act with her Internet addiction and lack of meaningful parental guidance in mind, and tell her that what happened is in the past."

"Absolutely." Said Dick.

"She is obviously very affected by the memory. We have to try to help her move on, as well as conquer her fears. Then we can properly train her body."

"Yeah." Dick nodded.

Barbara bobbed her head, too. "OK."

"I'll be in the cave. Thank you for coming to visit her, Dick, Barbara."

"Our pleasure." Said Dick. Faith finished her soup, put the tray on the nightstand, and laid on the right side of her ribs. Her eyes felt heavy, and her throat was sore from talking. Barbara knocked on the door, making Faith jolt.

“Oops! Sorry, hon!”

“No, you’re fine. Come in.” Faith said. Barbara entered with a small two-tone grey thermos cup.

“Here you are.” Barbara said, switching the places of the cup and the tray.

“Oh, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. You going straight to sleep?”

“I think so.” Faith yawned, then nodded, Barbara giggling.

“You’re welcome to text me or Dick anytime you need to get something out, or have a question you don’t wanna ask Bruce for some reason, or anything else, OK? You can even call us, if we’re available. I think you, as a person from Earth-33, know as well as we do, that he’s not exactly the best at extending his emotions.” Faith sleepily bobbed her head in agreement against the pillow. “OK. And we are taking you of the house when you’re done being sick!”

“Yay! Yes, I remember from the group chat.”

“Good. All right, my girl. Have a good rest and get well real soon.” Barbara smiled. Faith mimicked her. Barbara left the bedroom with the tray and closed the door. Faith relaxed her body and fell asleep right away.

Click emoji to navigate to next chapter. ⏭️

[lathalea]

Teaser Time: The White Raven ch6 is coming soon!

I would like to thank everyone who has supported me so far during my work on The White Raven fic, especially you, lovely people, yes, you who replied to my latest post about it. Your response was so overwhelmingly kind and really motivating 💕💕💕😭 Special thanks to @legolasbadass for being a great and extremely patient beta reader 💙

You gave me strength to continue writing this story and I have a little something for you...

✨💎 As a big THANK YOU 💎 ✨ I'd like to share a small snippet from Chapter 6 with you. Enjoy!

“He’s still breathing!”

“Thorin, wake up! Wake up, ye lazy bastard!” someone growled straight into his ear. “Damn it!”

“Dwalin, look, we stopped the bleeding.”

Those voices again. Pulling Thorin back into consciousness. Into the pain and emptiness.

“Let’s finish dressing his wound and then we’ll take ‘im to Oín,” the growling one said. 

“What’s that, Fili?” the young, familiar voice said.

“Where?”

“Over there, by that pointy rock on the other side of the river.” 

“Looks like a dead Warg to me,” the one very close to him rasped out. A pair of hands kept on doing something to his chest. It hurt. He wanted it to stop. 

“Too small for a Warg, Dwalin. It’s… by Mahal’s beard!”

“Where are you going, Fili? Wait for me!” The first voice sounded irritated.

A sound of hurried footsteps. Iron-heeled boots against ice. 

“Those two can’t sit in one place in peace if their life depended on…” the raspily-sounding one grunted. “I tell ya, Thorin, when ye’re better, we’ll send them on guard duty. First morning shift for a month. That’ll teach ‘em!”

Somehow, it made Thorin want to smile. But now, even smiling hurt.

“It’s a raven! So big! Look at its wings! Why are you staring, Fili?” the youthful voice reached his ears again.

“I think it’s… the White Raven.”

“What?! It’s just a fairy tale!”

“I’ve seen this raven before, Kili,” confidence rang in the second voice. “I think it followed us on the way to Erebor. It helped me fight off a Warg-rider in the Misties just before the eagles came.”

Thorin took a reluctant breath. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. 

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. There is so much blood… Is it dead, Fili?”

“Let me see… That’s a nasty wound.”

Thorin’s muscles tensed. He wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to speak. But his body didn't want to obey.

And then he heard two gasps at the same time.

“What’s happening?”

“Do you see it too, Fili?”

“It’s… it’s magic!”

“No, it’s a shapeshifter!”

“Look! Look!”

“A woman?!”

Both voices intermingled in Thorin’s exhausted mind, making less and less sense. He needed to act. He needed to… He breathed in. The air smelled like snowdrops.

“Thorin! Ye’re back! And here I was thinkin’…” A tattooed forehead and a bushy moustache appeared before his eyes. “Stop squeezing my hand so hard!”

“Carra…” Thorin managed to rasp out. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“What are ye sayin’?” Dwalin demanded.

“Help…. her…” He tried again. “She is…”

“What? I can barely hear ye.” The last wisps of strength were leaving him. He could feel the darkness beckoning to him once again.

“Yasthûnê…” Thorin articulated slowly. “My… wife.”

The full chapter is going to drop in the beginning of next week, Thorin and Carra can't wait to share their tale with you 💙

Tagging @legolasbadass @linasofia @xxbyimm @quiall321 @i-did-not-mean-to @evenstaredits @exhausted-humxn-being @mrsdurin @emrfangirl @aduialel @littlesweetdressmaker @shiinata-library @estethell @heilith @sotwk @groovycalzoneroadmaker @sazzlep @ponycactus @nokisuu @the-lonely-pillow @myeaglesongart @i-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @asgardianhobbit98 @thespiritoflife @justfollowtheroad @fizzyxcustard @knittastically @mcchiberry @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady and everyone who is interested in this story (stupid tumblr said I couldn't tag more people, sorry) 💙

[sloanesallow]

The Call of the Void | Chapter 2

Shy girl meets distracted boy. Chaos ensues. This is my "canon" retelling of Siobhan Sloane and Sebastian Sallow's story. (full synopsis here. Chapter Summary: Sebastian finds himself in the middle of a gossip session at the opening feast. Chapter warnings: Discussions about blood status, bigotry against muggles/muggleborns and use of the m word, as well as some misogynistic comments. [Ao3] | [Wattpad] [PREVIOUS] | [NEXT]

II: R u m o r s

“Did you hear about Cooper and Weasley?”

“Which Weasley?”

“The older one, with the red hair.”

“They all have red hair!”

“Well, then—the taller one! Anyways…Adelaide told Evangeline, who told Samantha…”

Sebastian Sallow is not one to pay attention to gossip.

As enthusiastic as the chattering girls at the Slytherin table are, rumor and hearsay simply do not align with his pursuit of knowledge. No, Sebastian very much prefers facts—the truth. One might argue that gossip is knowledge, the kind that can be used as currency to climb the social ladder. It’s certainly how many of witches and wizards within the Ministry of Magic earned their power, but Sebastian isn’t interested in social politics or participating in the student hierarchy that is as fickle as a Hippogriff.

Instead, Sebastian focuses on his studies. He is by no means a perfect student—and the record number of detentions is proof of that enough—but he is knowledgeable, and always manages to score well on tests and practice O.W.L.s, despite his behavior. He’s always been a curious boy, something his parents fostered, and something his uncle chastises. All the more reason to keep his nose in a book, if only to keep his parent’s memories alive, and antagonize uncle Solomon—even if it means sleeping in the storage shed behind their Feldcroft cottage as punishment.

This year, however, Sebastian has even more incentive to hide himself away in the library, and it has nothing to do with getting a head start on next year’s N.E.W.T.s. He glances up from the book spread out before him, frowning at the empty space on the other side of the table where his twin sister Anne should be. No doubt she’d be excitedly gossiping away with Grace-Pinch Smedley and Violet McDowell, but Sebastian wouldn’t mind because it would mean she was here and healthy at Hogwarts, instead of cooped up in Feldcroft with uncle Solomon.

Cursed.

This year, Sebastian is determined to find a cure, regardless of the sacrifices he must make. No matter the cost to his own well-being, or how many more detentions with Professor Binns he’ll need to endure, he will find a cure for Anne.

It is precisely why that instead of paying attention to anything Headmaster Black is saying as he monotonously welcomes students to the opening feast, Sebastian is reading his latest find, a book procured (and definitely not stolen) from Tomes and Scrolls. At least he is trying to read, but it is already difficult enough to translate Latin, harder still when all he can hear is girlish giggling.

He glowers at the pair. “Do you mind?”

“Do you?” Grace scoffs, rolling her eyes. Sebastian supposes she could be considered pretty, if she wasn’t such an arrogant snob, all because of her family name. “Only you would bring an old, smelly book to the sorting ceremony, Sallow.”

Violet’s expression is just as conceited. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit with the Ravenclaws instead?”

The two girls look over their shoulders and Sebastian follows their eye lines to the next table over, a proverbial sea of blue. One of the Eagles, Amit Thakkar, notices the group and eagerly waves. Grace and Violet swivel back, not even bothering to stifle their snickering. To his left, there is a soft smirk, and Sebastian turns to see his friend—his best friend—Ominis Gaunt, biting back a grin.

“Et tu, Ominis?”

“They have a point,” he replies, tilting his head in a way that signifies he actually wants to hear what the Headmaster has to say.

Sebastian grumbles, pressing the lower half of his face into his palm as he rests his elbow on the table. He keeps his eyes on the text, but he isn’t really reading, especially when Grace and Violet return to their blathering.

“I heard there’s to be a new student at Hogwarts this year.”

“There are new students every year.”

“Yes, but this one is starting as a fifth year.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, not that he means to eavesdrop, but it isn’t like they are whispering.

“A transfer student then,” Imelda, to his right, decides to join in on the conversation. Reyes isn’t typically one for rumors either, but it seems her curiosity is piqued.

Grace shakes her head. “My father, you know he works at the Ministry, he said that she only received their owl this summer.”

“She?” Violet and Imelda seek to clarify.

“Mmhm,” Grace nods, obviously enjoying being the momentary center of attention, the one to share such important information. “A farmgirl, so I’m told. Can you believe it? She’s a muggleborn.”

If Grace meant to whisper the last word, she’d done a piss-poor job. Sebastian frowns into his palm at the various disapproving expressions on his house-mates faces. Even though he is a so-called pureblood wizard, he’s never been one to form an opinion of someone based on their blood status or family name. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for many of his classmates, raised up to ostracize anyone who goes against the status-quo.

“Great,” an older boy seated next to Violet murmurs. One of the Malfoy brood, always quick to share a bigoted opinion. “Another mudblood.”

The derogatory word rings in Sebastian’s ears, but doesn’t seem to bother the others. He clenches his teeth, staring down at his book until the word magicae becomes more foreign than it already is.

“How fun,” this time it is one of Black’s sons, grinning like the devil himself. At the other’s speculative looks, he continues with a laugh. “Muggleborns are fun to break, if you catch my meaning. They haven’t a clue about wizarding society, and thus are so easy to seduce and scandalize,” he explains. “They make the best virgins.”

“Oh will you please just shut up!”

It isn’t until the group is staring at him that Sebastian realizes he’s said anything. His outburst seems to surprise even Ominis, whose eyebrows are raised in alarm. He flounders for a moment, muttering something about indecency that goes ignored. This time, he tunes out their chatter with a sigh.

Crude as their discussion is—not that he wants to call it a discussion—it isn’t like Sebastian hasn’t thought about…well, what hot-blooded, puberty stricken teenaged boy doesn’t think about sex? He isn’t naive enough not to notice the changes to his body and mind, and how the other girls in his year and above are more alluring than usual. His education on the matter is as secondhand as his other extra-curricular research, though the restricted section has some tantalizing selections, enough to fill his imagination and keep him sated, for now.

It simply isn’t a priority to snog or shag, not now. Finding a cure for Anne is far more important than bedding someone. Besides, it isn’t like he has a line of potential romp-mates waiting in a queue. Not that he has a poor self-worth, but Sebastian can’t see himself being on any of his classmates lists as a potential suitor, let alone someone to fumble around with in some secret part of the castle. He has too many burdens and is perhaps, at the end of the day, just plain weird.

“Well if she’s starting in her fifth year, she can’t be that talented,” Imelda says, and as rude as the comment is, Sebastian is almost inclined to agree. Most witches and wizards gain their magic in adolescence. For him and Anne, they were nine, making toads float in the family garden. “Wait, is that…her?”

Distracted by the conversation, none at the Slytherin table (expect perhaps Ominis, with his wand to see for him) noticed Headmaster Black’s abrupt disappearance and return to the Great Hall. More than a few paces behind him is Professor Fig, followed by a girl. Everyone, including Sebastian, sit up a little straighter in an attempt to catch a glimpse, but it isn’t until she’s at the front dais that her form is clearly visible.

“Merlin,” Imelda whispers. “She looks petrified!”

Sebastian is intrigued enough that he inspects the girl as well as he can from where he’s sitting. The farmgirl, as Grace so eloquently called her, admittedly does look worse for wear. Her pale-blond hair is disheveled and the standard house-robe seems to weigh her down. As she’s instructed to sit on the rickety stool to be sorted, it’s obvious to see her hesitation. Her wide eyes stare out into the sea of unfamiliar faces and—

“Has she been crying?”

“She looks like a wet kneazle!”

Grace and Violet lean into each other in a lame attempt to mute their amusement. Sebastian glares at them, biting his tongue to prevent another outburst. He can’t help but think back to the first time he ever arrived at Hogwarts with Anne, the two unwilling to let go of one another’s hand until they were forced apart to be sorted. She had gone first, claiming her birthright as the older twin (and alphabetically came first anyways), and was quickly sorted into Slytherin. Sometimes Sebastian wonders if the Hat showed him some mercy by sorting him into the same house so they wouldn’t be separated.

Cruel fate would see to that.

“Better be…Hufflepuff!”

The sudden cheers from the other side of the hall pull him from his melancholy thoughts. So the new fifth-year is a Hufflepuff? The badgers cheer for their newest addition, and Sebastian thinks it is for the best—a nervous chit like her wouldn’t last a day in Slytherin, or Gryffindor for that matter. As she slowly makes her way to sit with her new house-mates, Headmaster Black continues his speech as if the interruption never happened. Imelda curses and almost stands to loudly disagree when it’s announced that Quidditch is canceled, but Nerida Roberts tugs her back down. 

Curiosity has Sebastian flicking his gaze through the throng of students, locating the new girl where she is seemingly making awkward conversation with Poppy Sweeting and Lenora —Merlin help her.

Ominis leans a fraction closer. “I believe her name is Sloane.”

“Sloane?” Sebastian repeats. Ominis nods once, providing nothing more. “Hmm.”

He shrugs, sparing one last look at the Hufflepuff table before finally refocusing on his book.

The new fifth-year—Sloane—she is of little consequence to him.

[kissorkill16]

When We Were Once Happy: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: A story before Trinity moved to Raven Brooks.

Chapter 12

Nicky woke up at 3:47, not because of a nightmare, he was just thirsty. So he got up to get some water.

Half awake, he can barely remember his way to the bathroom, so he ended up taking the long way. He managed to wake up a little to realize he was going the wrong way.

He turned around to go to the right direction of the bathroom, but...

"Which way was the bathroom again?"

He was fully awake now, fully aware that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. Great, things were changing.

Aaron remembered how he mentioned how his dad liked to change his own house around, like it was a mix and match doll. Like it was a game.

But right now, Nicky was too thirsty for games.

THUD

Nicky nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a loud thud come from behind him. He scrambled to find somewhere to hide, frantically trying to pull doors open, but every door he tried to open was locked.

Fortunately, the last door he tried opening was unlocked, and he immediately ran inside and slammed the door.

When he turned around, the first thing he saw was a bulletin board full of old newspapers and photographs. He walked towards it to get a closer look.

The newspapers were full of news about how Mr. Peterson built a new rollercoaster. The first one he saw was in Germany, the next in Bosco Bay, and the next one he saw was how he was being interviewed on his latest creation.

His eyes traveled to a desk, and he saw a lot of blueprints for a rollercoaster. He took a closer look at it, and he was more than surprised. This rollercoaster had so many twists and turns, so many ways to go, so many tunnels, it was enough to make the average human being barf their innards out.

Aaron has been dying to find out what his dad was going to build next, so maybe he could show him this blueprint. He took out his phone, made sure it was on silent, and took many pictures.

He nearly dropped his phone when the door was slowly pushed open.

"What the heck?! Who had such quiet footsteps that no one would be able to hear them?!"

He got his answer when he saw a familiar looking argyle sweater in the corner of his eye. The first place he thought to hide was under the desk.

"Just wait for him to leave."

He waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. He checked the time on his phone, it was 4:30. He peeked from under the desk and saw Mr. Peterson with his back turned, probably looking for a book or something.

"If I'm quiet enough, I could sneak out of here and get back to bed."

Nicky slowly stood up from under the desk, and slowly tried to tip toe out of the room, but luck was not on his side as he stepped on a creaking floorboard. He nearly peed himself.

Mr. Peterson turned around, and Nicky wished the ground would just open up and just swallow him whole.

"Nicholas, what are you doing here?", he asked.

Nicky couldn't form any words, his voice was stuck in his throat, and it was excruciating. "I...uh...I..."

"Well?"

Nicky was starting to feel queasy.

"Young man, this is my private office. You shouldn't be here.", Mr. Peterson nearly growled.

Nicky forced the words out. "I got lost looking for the bathroom!", he squeaked.

Mr. Peterson stepped towards him, and Nicky curled in on himself. For some reason, he saw his grandmother in his place. Stepping towards him in a menacing threat, looking like she was about to hurt him. Nicky could feel tears forming in his eyes.

"Please don't hurt me.", he squeaked.

Instead, Mr. Peterson slowly wrapped his arms around the boy and picked him up. He carried Nicky out of his office, down the long corridor, and back to Aaron's room. He slowly set him down on his sleeping bag, and tucked him in.

"Nighty night, Nicky."

And with that, he left.

Nicky was so confused, yet so relieved. Mr. Peterson wasn't angry, he didn't even yell at him, he just put him back to bed.

It's not that Nicky wanted Mr. Peterson to be angry at him, he was just surprised. But he decided not to question it any further, and tried to get some sleep, with only one final thought in his head.

"That wasn't another nightmare. I'm not with Bubba. When I'm here, she can't hurt me."