#and the stab of homesickness was fucking real

[padfootastic]

OKAY SO THIS IS SOMETHING ME AND MY FRIEND DO THAT I SORTA NOW HC J & S TO DO IT AS WELL and i need you- queen of prongsfoot to tell me weather if they also would do this or this sleep-deprived me talking

so every year basically on our birthdays we send each other letters. and by sending I mean hand delivering it to them cause we live two mins away

but it just always has this format right? the address while following the normal format didn't contain the actual working address ala harry potter style kinda like for ex

ash/resident of everlasting patience and stupidity/ mountain of discarded coffee cups/ 16000 pictures in phone gallery street

but then the letter would be the most beautiful piece of ode to friendship to each other and just her and she shines my world and just e v e r y t h i n g.

like my description of notes is this should be so emotive that the reader is reduced to tears laughs and everything in between and those letters (more like a 5 page essay) is something that is one of my most cherished thing to get yearly.

and if you want to add angst to it, imagine sirius finding all those old james letters for each one of his birthday and one maybe for his 22nd one that he didnt get to read for lets just sya reasons

the way i saw u write this in real time and still took so long to get to it 😭😭 i should be locked up i s2g.

no okay but listen!!!! ur onto something here!!!

so. because i’m me, i’m gonna add an aspect of generational/familial history to it. so, imagine like fleamont and/or euphemia writing letters for james on his birthdays, right? and it’s filled with these heartfelt, funny messages and he cherishes them a lot. brings them to hogwarts and reads them when he’s feeling upset (only making himself more homesick in the process lol)

and then on sirius’ first bday in hogwarts (which is only a couple months in, yeah?) he sees that he gets a terrible, horrible letter from his family that doesn’t nothing except scold him/humiliate him and how it hurts sirius. SO. in a bid to restructure his perception of bday letters, james borrows from his own tradition & starts writing letters for sirius. he’s so filled w affection always that it’s absolutely not a problem for him to fill pages upon pages. (and u can even add the address thing as way for j to make it funny so sirius laughs!!)

so yeah, james starts it and slowly, hesitantly, sirius does the same. he’s never as proficient at it as james is, because he’s not as emotional in the first place, but whatever he writes is always heartfelt. (also, in a creative sirius scenario, u could hc that he draws something or composes music just for james and that’s equally sentimental but w/o being so horribly revealing?)

and like yeah, imagine then that james has got his 22nd bday letter all written and stuff bc he’s a little dork who never leaves stuff until the last minute unless he can help it, right? and despite doing this for a decade (a decade!!! they only had a decade together!!!) he’s still so fucking excited to write a fresh one bc he loves gifting and making people happy etc etc, and so he writes it, and keeps it in a nice little envelope w the potter seal embossed on it, just waiting to give it to sirius & see his expression (fav part) except.

except he can’t.

and when sirius enters the house, he sees james’ cold, dead body lying on the floor first, but once he gets up from the ground, he spots the envelope a few feet away and lets out a howl like never before. reads it so obsessively he can recite it, each word hitting like a stab in the heart.

(or, alternatively, u can imagine him somehow discovering the letter post-azkaban after he’s spends dozen years being psychologically tortured, reliving the potters’ deaths, and believing himself to be the cause of it. u pick)

(and of course, once sirius escapes, he does the same for harry. and to parallel james & sirius, the letter he writes for harry’s 16th is left in GP and harry only finds it after the war—or even during when they halt there—when he’s cleaning it up or wtv and basically breaks down all over again)

#james potter #sirius black #harry potter #good godfather sirius black #also!!! queen of prongsfoot 🥺🥺 my HEART #this got so long hehehe #but i just. could see it So Well #sirius writing harry letters absolutely happens in an AU where he raises him #can lowkey imagine jily writing letters for harry too #god i just. love letters so much #they’re so precious #contain so much history #a TANGIBLE evidence of one’s love & regard #‘i am thinking of u’ #hnghhhhhh #pen’s (delayed) asks #pen’s notes

[lihikainanea]

With all your yummy food posts I got to thinking of Tiger trying to cook Bill a surprise bday dinner but failing. She wants to cook his fave Swedish dishes he's always making for her and maybe something his dad made growing up. Stellen sent the recipe. Bill has been missing Sweden some lately especially around his bdy or the holidays? He walks in from being away filming or a photo shoot to find rhe house a mess and Smokey and a small yet angry Tiger. I can't help it ... everything makes me think of these 2 🤷😁🖤

ohhhh HOW I LOVE THIS.

And like, the thing is, tiger is a good cook, you know? Bill loves her cooking (and her cookies). But this is a whole other ball game because it's just ingredients that tiger has never worked with, and has no idea what to do with.

Maybe they're away somewhere--somewhere in the southern United States or something. This whole zombie virus has actually worked in tiger's favour because now she just permanently works from home, which means she can work from wherever Bill needs to be--so now she just kind of follows him from set to set. But Bill s not really a southern United States kind of guy. Don't get me wrong--they start to enjoy some things. They try fried alligator bites together. They're both fond of the dirty, run down no-name bars with peanut shells on the floor and whiskey strong enough to take your nail polish off. In fact, they often head there on a random Tuesday night to enjoy--or at least choke down--some strong brown liquor in a place where Bill knows ain't no one gonna recognize him. Tiger discovered what a hush puppy was, and how great fried green tomatoes were. Bill eats his body weight's worth of deep fried Oreos. There are good things to the Deep South--namely, the pleasure of watching Bill eat a ripe peach as juice drips down his chin and he makes that very familiar sucking noise.

But after a few weeks, he's homesick. It's around midsummer in Sweden, which is always his favourite time of year, and tiger wants to surprise him. She has Gustaf send her some stuff, and Papa S send her some recipes. And one day when Bill has a real long shoot but he's off for a few days after, tiger gets to work.

But look, it's doomed from the get go. It's chaos the minute she tries to stab open the can of surstromming--and promptly can't stop gagging from the smell. How anybody can even be in the same ROOM as this stuff let alone willingly ingest it, tiger has no idea. She can't stop gagging even once she flings the can outside, because the smell just lingers.

and like, tiger has been to Sweden. She knows they pickle everything. She knows there's just random blobs of roe on most foods. She's cool with it.

But this is something else entirely. Maybe she decides that like, to get the stench of rotting fish out of the rented house, she'll start making dessert--princess cake. Bill's favourite, and her favourite too. Something about the delicious marzipan and the absolute pillow of almond cream, and the spongey, soft cake and the jammy layer is just...perfection.

So she sets about making the elements. But like, this fucking cake man--it takes forever. You have to dye the marzipan. You have to make the cream. You have to bake the cake. And by the time tiger tries to pile the almond cream onto the cake in the perfect dome, it's horrendously lumpy and lopsided but she's thinking the marzipan will even it out.

Spoiler alert: it doesn't. The result is a lumpy, puckered, disgusting mess that's oozing everywhere.

She shoves it in the fridge and refuses to look at it.

The boiled potatoes are a gummy, starchy mess and the gloopy dill cream sauce on top is not only remarkably off-putting, but it's barely classified as a sauce by the consistency. It's more of a....paste. The salmon gravlax is disturbingly mushy and alarmingly under-cured. Tiger doesn't fucking know what falukorv even is but the word flaccid is all that comes to mind when she looks at it.

It's a disaster. Bill arrives home to a weird stench in the house--and that's really the only word for it--it all just stinks of burnt and dill and bad potatoes and failure. He can hear stuff boiling over from the kitchen, but of more concern, he can hear tiger's desperate wail of frustration. He kicks off his shoes and crosses the hallway quickly, heading to the scene of the crime, and my god--it does look like a crime scene. It's a mess. Pots everywhere, chopping boards everywhere else, he briefly registers some seagulls amassing on the gallery and fighting over something. Tiger has a knife in her hand, she's wide-eyed and frantic looking.

"Okay," he says calmly, "Wow."

Tiger wails again.

"Put the knife down," he says slowly. She does.

"I wanted to do something nice for you," she mumbles.

"By summoning a hurricane to storm through the kitchen?"

"Bill," she wails. He chuckles a bit.

"Kid what the hell happened?" he asks, moving towards her. He shuts a few dials on the stove, moving an overflowing pot into the sink.

"I wanted to make you a swedish feast," she mutters, "But fuck swedish food."

A loud, angry caw from the balcony makes both of them jump. Bill points to the window, his brows raised in an unspoken question.

"Rotting fucking herring because Sweden is disgusting," she snaps. Bill can't help but smile. This is a mess- an absolute fucking catastrophe--but damn her heart was in the right place.

"Tiger you're a goof," he smiles, "Come here."

He opens his arms and she just kind of falls into them, another frustrated wail escaping her lips.

"I know how homesick you are," she mumbles pitifully, "And I wanted to do something nice for you."

"Oh sweet girl," he kisses her hair, "Thank you."

"It didn't work," she mutters into his chest.

"I see that."

She sighs, and he hugs her closer.

"Pizza?" he asks, and she chuckles into him.

"Yep," she says, "But at least the dessert is salvageable."

She breaks away from him, opening the door to the fridge.

"I made you princess cake," she says excitedly. But then she pulls out this gloopy, unidentifiable mess--the green marzipan melting everywhere, the top all uneven and dimpled, the pink rose droopy and sagging. Cream runs off the plate. Tiger's face falls at the exact same time as Bill's eyes widen, his lips pressed together in a barely-contained gut laugh.

Tiger sighs, defeated.

"Pizza and dessert?" Bill asks, pulling out his phone.

"And beer," tiger sighs.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfic #bill skarsgard fiction #bill skarsgard fic

[verdantmoontruther]

i need 2 get something off my chest nothing serious but anyways im just bursting to speak it into reality

the first person i mentioned this to was one of my flatmates from last year. the second was my mum, and whoever is reading this now will be the third.

im homesick. im so homesick it feels like a physical illness. ive realised that there’s a very big chance i owe a big part of my mental health issues to homesickness. when i was 16 i thought the town i lived in was just too small, then i was 18 and london (london!!!) still wasnt enough, and now im 19 and ive realised that i am just. so. homesick.

i moved to the uk when i was 10 and since then i havent been back to the us. im not originally from there, either, but i consider myself a new englander. i grew up in boston. i miss it... so much. its so fucking stupid like its obviously all rose-tinted memories from when i was a child but i cant live in england anymore when in the back of my mind there is a place that is just so much better.

sometimes ill walk around london and ill find the parts of old england that new england must have been modelled after; red brick townhouses, sunlight filtering through golden leaves, wide roads. but then i turn a corner and its so grey, so english that it honestly feels like a stab wound, like it physically aches.

i have two more years left of uni, but ill be real i think once i finish my bachelors i will go back home. whether its for work or for school i dont know, i havent fully decided yet, but its something that my heart is tentatively set on. my flatmate told me to do it (she said she gets it, and she does, she moved here when she was 10 too), and my mom told me to do it (i think she gets it too, she fell into a two-year depression when we moved away), but its such a monumental step for me to take, alone, at the ripe old age of 21, that i dont know if i can do it.

i want to, though, desperately. i feel like im sort of floating lawlessly, surviving day by day without truly enjoying anything, and every single bad emotion traces back to where i live. i hate looking out the window and seeing semi-detached houses. i hate the sad, small boroughs. i hate football and i hate football fans. i hate england.

i dont know. the saddest thing is that, if i do move, because i hate this place so much, i dont think ill even miss any of my friends. ill forget about them and i wont even care. it makes me feel like an awful awful person, that im not thinking about them or factoring them into my plans, but its also, like, theyre my plans? its my life? if i stay here, i will fall apart? dont keep me here??? idk

[psqqa]

god youtube stop reminding me how much better dutch cities are than literally any place i could live in canada ;___;

#went to look up some videos of the leids dialect #ended up watching videos by expats talking about their experiences living in the netherlands #and it's weird #i don't feel homesick anymore #but god is it frustrating to realize i once lived in a place that has so much of its shit together in terms of basic livability #actually that's a lie #this one video opened with the church bells of leiden ringing #and then switched to the sounds of a draaiorgel #and the stab of homesickness was fucking real #last time i was in the netherlands it didn't feel like home anymore #but it was so familiar in a way that was just so.......... #the US-centrism of tumblr is what it is i don't get mad about it #but so many posts are just so deeply unfamiliar to me yet posited as such a universal experience that i start like doubting my idk #experience-built sense of the world? #and then i think about my childhood or watch a video about the netherlands and it's like #no there's a reason these statements and arguments and lines of reasoning are confusing and unfamiliar to me #and it's because they do not hold with the experience of my childhood #they are coming from a different place and a different culture and even with shifts in progress and attitudes #and correcting for the blinders of my own privilege #the contextual starting points are simply different

[alengmae]

Every Story Is Us (CH 5)

(AN: I was convinced by Jess to post this here. IDK why Jess but you work in mysterious ways. To read this in AO3 and my other drabbles, visit here.)

“What you seek is seeking you.”

~Rumi

Penelope choked on her the tiny sip of wine she took. She started coughing but her date carried on like nothing was amiss.

“Yeah, you remind me so much of her. You should meet Mother. I just know she will love you,” he gushed further. He gave her an expectant grin.

She gaped at him in astonishment. They literally just sat down not fifteen minutes ago, yet he was already talking about her meeting his mother on their first date. She knew it was a bad idea to trust Eloise and Fran’s idea. Tinder dates were really not her style. And, based on her first date, she felt vindicated.

She was about to set the record straight when the server came to their table and took their order. She opened her mouth to speak but her date was a lot faster.

“She’ll have the Steak Diane. You don’t mind me ordering for you, right?” he asked as he turned to her.

Penelope was too dumbfounded to respond. He was hitting all her red flags and he was completely oblivious to her irritation, which was awfully apparent since the server’s professional smile turned into a wince. She only raised her glass of wine to the server, who understood immediately her need for more booze. If the server were considerate, she would bring an entire bottle for her.

“Oh and separate bill,” he added before explaining to her with a hint of condescension, “I like to go Dutch on the first date. You don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t!”

Honestly, she didn’t mind at all. If anything, she would have insisted on it. She felt that he was the type to lord it over after dinner, expecting for something in return. But the way he went on another tangent about his mother, she just knew she was not going to last the appetizer course.

She cursed Eloise and Fran heavily in her head. They insisted she try out the app and look where it got her. She should have followed Daphne’s instructions, to never get caught up in her younger sisters’ shenanigans. As she listened to her date drone on and on, one thing became clear in her mind. She needed new friends.

Nay, better friends.

She just moved from Ireland to London for work. And she met Eloise, a fellow teacher, not too long ago and they clicked immediately. Soon, she was invited to all their brunches and dinners. She fell in love with her family instantly, all eight of them. Although, there was a Bridgerton brother she has not met yet. Seemingly, that Bridgerton was off traveling the world and was on a lengthy tour this time around. And, if he was anything like his siblings, she knew she would come to love him too. But, right now, that love she felt for all things Bridgerton started to wane. She said she didn’t want a date but no, Eloise and Fran had to drag her kicking and screaming into one.

She was pulled out of her reverie when her date grasped her hand. He gently caressed her with his clammy hand and she nearly shivered from disgust because why was his hand so wet?

“I just knew as soon as I saw your picture you’d be the one. Even mother said you’d be a good wife with your wide-set hips,” he beamed at her.

“Oh my god,” she gasped out loud. She tugged her hand back and excused herself to the restroom. She needed to get out of this date. Never in her life had she felt so uncomfortable. She frantically dialed Eloise to come save her but there was no reception at all. Her annoyance reached an all-time high. Was there a fucking signal blocker installed in this facility? She lingered outside the restroom, hidden by the stately plants decorating the restaurant, and repeatedly scrolled through her phone for a miracle. She was close to screaming in frustration.

It was then she felt a finger lightly poke her back. She swiveled around and saw the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He was exactly her type: tall, dark and handsome. He was incredibly fit, and wearing clothes that highlighted his muscular body. He had on a sympathetic smile and lips that were begging to be kissed. Well, hello there. Maybe his attractiveness short-circuited her brain because she just stood there gaping at him like an idiot.

“Sorry,” he modestly started, “I couldn’t help but notice. Are you alright?”

Penelope nodded, heat spreading on her cheeks. She must have looked like a mad woman, pacing to and fro in front of the restroom. She smiled weakly at him.

“Are you sure?” He glanced in the direction of her date and she grimaced. Her date was openly picking his nose in public at the moment. Penelope had to close her eyes in an effort not to shudder in repugnance. “Anne told me you might need saving.”

She perked up at the name of her server. She might have found her salvation after all. “I…actually, I might,” she bashfully admitted. “I need rescuing from my date. It’s a Tinder date.” She felt the need to explain why. Obviously, this handsome man in front of her probably think she was crazy for going on this date in the first place. And, just in case he might be interested, she wanted to make herself appear saner.

“No worries. I’m your guy,” he reassured her. When he grinned at her, she swore it went straight between her legs. The pull of her attraction to him was insanely intense. She had never felt anything like this before with other men.

“Colin, by the way,” he held out his hand, which she met coyly. “Penelope.”

She marveled at how long his fingers were compared to hers, how rough his skin was against hers and how dry his hands was compared to her date. Her mind started to wander to more wanton thoughts as he shook her hand. His fingers should be illegal, she mused. When he let go, she already mourned the loss of contact.

“Alright, Penelope. I’ll be your knight in shining armor tonight,” he stated excitedly.

Ugh, and he’s charming too? How the hell was he real?

He urged her back to her date without a game plan, only a wink. She got too pre-occupied with said wink to even ask about how he planned on rescuing her. She reluctantly sat down across her date again.

“You sure took your time there,” her date stated said evenly. “I hate waiting. Be more prudent next time.”

She almost threw the basket of breadsticks to his face. Colin better come right away or else, she will stab the man in front of her in the eye with a breadstick. Before she could openly berate him, Colin marched to their table purposefully. He stopped with a loud dramatic gasp.

“Penelope, how could you?” he bellowed scandalously. “After ten years of marriage, this is what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck…” she mumbled in shock at his theatrical display. Her date appeared to be equally confused at the scene in front of them.

“And you left Colin Jr at home by himself to meet up with this man?” Colin continued his melodrama without pausing. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Wait, you have a kid?” her date’s furious question jerked her from her bewilderment.

“I-“

“I thought you were a virgin!” he cut her off, for the nth time this night.

“That’s where you draw the line? Me not being a virgin?” her incredulous voice was shrill in affront.

Even Colin stopped with his dramatics with a revolted, “Dude.”

Thankfully, this was the moment her date decided to storm out. “Mother was right, after all. Never trust anyone from the internet,” he spat at her before he left.

Penelope hissed back, “It goes both ways!” She clutched her wine glass and chugged the contents in one go.

Colin took her date’s seat and stared at her, eyes twinkling in amusement.

She glared at him. “And you, Colin Jr really?” she asked with a huff.

“I got carried away. You should have seen your face!” He laughed out loud. But she had a sneaking suspicion that he planned it all from the start. She supposed, once that her outrage had passed, it was hilarious. She started giggling with him.

He was about to stand when the food came out, along with a bottle of wine. Penelope stopped him from leaving. “It’s a shame to waste all these food I’d end up paying for. And really want to thank you for saving me from that horrible date.”

He appeared hesitate so she added further, “After ten years of marriage, this is the least I could do.”

He laughed out loud again. It definitely was her libido acting up because she felt herself swoon slightly to his baritone laughter. She found herself wondering if he had a Tinder account. He gestured for her to pick which plate was hers. She gratefully took her previous date’s salmon dish and pushed the steak towards him. They ate, happily chatting about everything under the sun. He regaled her with stories of his vast travels, one story similarly exciting as the next. She offered her childhood tales from her Irish motherland. He started talking about his work, and how he just came back from Morocco after missing his boisterous family. And she started opening up about her insecurity of being in an unfamiliar country all by herself. He held her hand in consolation as she admitted succumbing to homesickness sometimes. He comforted her by recounting comical anecdotes from his travels.

If she was awestruck by his good-looks, she was even more enamored by his wit and sense of humor. He made her laugh so hard but he also made her think. There was nothing sexier than a sharp intellect. He was becoming more dangerous to her as more times passed.

They stayed together until it was closing time. And she barely noticed the passage of time. It wasn’t until Anne cleared her throat in front of them that they noted that they were the only patrons in the restaurant left. She awkwardly asked for the cheque but Colin stopped her.

“This one’s on me, Anne.”

Their server nodded and bid them a good night before leaving.

“What? Wait, Anne!” She tried stopping her but her pleas fell on deaf ears. “I was supposed to treat you,” she grumbled lightly to Colin.

He shrugged. “How can I ask the mother of my child, Colin Jr, to pay for our date?”

She paused, blushing profusely. “Even if she dared to date someone else tonight?” she teased playfully.

He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Even when she tried to date someone else tonight. And might I add, she looks absolutely lovely tonight.”

Smooth like fucking butter. Her face must be red as a tomato right now, she reckoned. “Well, Colin Jr’s dad is not bad looking either.”

He beamed at her. She wanted to look away because he was too beautiful, it’s just not right. But he gently grasped her hand and asked softly, “Can I have your number? I really liked our time together and I really like you.”

“I like you too,” she replied, breathless.

He started leaning towards her, eyes locked on her lips. She did the same, magnetically slanting her body closer to his. Just when they were a fraction of an inch away, the kitchen door busted open with Anne bustling out.

“Boss, do you want-oops! My bad!” She retreated as fast as she came.

Damn it, Anne! Her scowl must have been a sight since he started chortling. He kissed the back of her hand reverently after to assuage her.

“Wait, she said boss?”

It was his turn to be sheepish. “I own this place.”

She blinked. That explained his intervention. “I clearly chose the wrong place to cheat on Colin Jr’s father.”

“I don’t know. I thought you were at the perfect place and time. I think I’m plenty lucky tonight,” he said sincerely.

She didn’t think she should voice out that if he kept on being sweet like that, he will get even luckier tonight. She only replied, “I’m glad.”

She exchanged numbers with him eagerly before bidding him a good night. But before she could step out from the restaurant, he gathered her in his arms and crashed his lips against hers. And it was magic and satisfaction and bliss and release all rolled into one. She clung to him, desperate against the tide of overwhelming emotions. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she was completely swept away. It felt as if she would come undone with just a flick of his tongue. When they broke apart, they were gasping for air and sporting giddy grins.

“Good night, Colin,” she called out sweetly.

“Good night, Penelope.”

She didn’t sleep at all that night. The butterflies in her stomach were too flighty. And her excitement could not be abated, even as she knew she was attending a Bridgerton brunch the next day. She was groggy when she came in but a smile could not seem to leave her face.

Eloise pulled her aside to interrogate her about her Tinder date last night but the flurry of excitement filled the room. Everyone was enthusiastic for some reason. “The long lost Bridgerton is finally coming home. The prodigal son has returned,” Eloise said wryly. But Penelope detected her friend’s delight beneath all the sarcasm.

“Oh, that’s good,” she could not help but mirror her friend’s pleasant demeanor. She was already riding the high from last night. Another cause for celebration was just the cherry on top.

“Yeah, apparently he came back yesterday from Morocco in secret so he could surprise us. But Hyacinth still can’t keep her trap shut, ruining the surprise.”

“Morocco?”

It was then that she heard a familiar voice bellow out his greetings. She whipped her head fast and her eyes met his across the room. It was cliché but she would swear to anyone who would listen that at that moment, time slowed down. When their eyes met, it felt like nothing else mattered. And her heart leapt in anticipation as he crossed the sea of people to meet her.

“Penelope?”

“Colin.”

“You two know each other?” Eloise asked, awed.

She smiled brightly, eyes locked onto Colin. “Of course! We’ve been married, what…ten years now?”

He snickered harder upon seeing everyone’s bewildered faces. “Colin Jr missed you last night.”

Eloise interrupted again, “Is he talking about his dick?”

Penelope chose to ignore her friend now that Colin intertwined his hand with hers. “Did he now? I should go visit him some time.”

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic with your visit.”

“So how does tonight sound?” she asked, playful in her inquiry but nervous with his answer.

He kissed the back of her hand sweetly. “Perfect. I know a place. They serve the best Steak Diane.”

She laughed.

#bridgerton #polin #colelope #polin fic #colin x penelope #horror dates #tinder date

[ncfan-1]

Just got to Chapter Fourteen (version: For You, My Dear) and the way all of the good guys just treat Cordelia’s having been crowned and acclaimed queen as something that can just be undone with the snap of the old fingers just because Roland happens to still be alive… annoys me.

[Rest is under the cut. It’s not character bashing, but it is me expressing some Opinions.]

I do think Avlora was shooting wide of the mark when she said that House Wolffort would just use Cordelia as a pawn the same way Gustadolph does, but all the same, our protagonists don’t seem to have the most… They just don’t really seem to see her, or to be making any real efforts to see her.

Gustadolph looks at Cordelia and sees a pawn to be kept mollified. He sees a broodmare. He looks at Cordelia and refuses to see her full capabilities, and thus doesn’t understand that Cordelia might actually pose a threat to him after everything he’s done to her.

Thalas and Erika look at Cordelia and see a new victim to torment now that Frederica is out of their reach. Neither one of them have enough respect for her to recognize that if she ever manages to gain any real favor with Gustadolph, their bullying could come around to bite them in the ass real hard. (Of course, they’re dead now, so that point is moot.)

Roland and Serenoa and the rest of our protagonists look at Cordelia and see the Princess in the Tower, the archetypal totally-passive damsel in distress who’s doing nothing but waiting to be rescued and has no agency to speak of. I’m sure Roland loves his sister very much, but I wonder how much he knows her.

The only one who really seems to see Cordelia is Avlora. And no, this is not a shipping thing (Though I do ship it). Part of it is because Avlora seems to be the only person Cordelia’s ever shown that side of herself to, the side of her that’s capable of being a stone-cold pragmatist willing to make an ally out of the woman who killed her oldest brother right in front of her because she sees that that woman is the only chance she has of regaining control over her kingdom. But part of it just seems to be because Avlora is the only person who pushes past her initial notions of who Cordelia is to see the person past those surface perceptions.

Like, we don’t know if Cordelia was actually cool with the idea of just relinquishing her claim to the throne to Roland. We don’t know if being queen was something she had actually decided was a duty she wanted to take up for her own sake, and not just because she thought herself the only living member of the royal family left. Yes, Cordelia abdicates after waking after Roland stabs her, but is that because she genuinely wants to abdicate? Or does it have more to do with the fact that everybody around her is calling Roland ‘King Roland,’ everybody’s treating it as a foregone conclusion that of course Roland will be king now, the assumption that Cordelia will abdicate has been presented to her as a fait accompli, and Cordelia, stone-cold pragmatist that she is, recognizes with that Avlora gone, there’s nobody around whom she can really trust to have her back if she tries to defend her own claim to the throne, and quietly steps aside?

(Of course, I’m going for the Morality ending, so Cordelia probably winds up becoming queen again when Roland fucks off and leaves Glenbrook to deal with the fallout of social order in Norzelia disintegrating as everyone wars with each other to gain control over salt. If Cordelia ever finds out Roland’s still alive and left her to deal with this mess alone, I hope he knows better than to expect a particularly warm welcome if he ever gets homesick.)

#Triangle Strategy #ncfan complains about things #Cordelia Glenbrook

[wosoimagines]

No More Promises - Alex Morgan/Reader

prompt: there are too many broken promises for the reader to handle.

warnings: swearing

words: 1545

Y/N POV

I gave a small smile to the defender from across the room and she sent me one back. I knew that she was free for the night considering I had texted Carly to ask what they were up to tonight. I nodded to the door and Millie immediately started to talk to her teammates. 

I was already headed outside once the defender was able to get away from her teammates. I leaned against one of the lamp posts as I waited for the English player. She smiled once she saw me waiting for her outside.

“I’ve missed you,” I smiled as I pulled her into a hug. Millie pulled away and pecked my lips.

“I can’t believe you went back to play in the States,” Millie complained as we started walking down the street. It was one of the only times I knew that the two of us would actually have the same free time during the World Cup. “I’ll get to hardly see you now.”

“Well, it helps to play with and against my own national teammates all the time,” I shrugged. I knew that Millie wasn’t a big fan of me moving back to America. “Besides, I was starting to get homesick.”

“I thought I was your home,” Millie whined. I knew that she was just missing me but it was starting to get to me.

“No, I said I’d like to build a home with you one day,” I sighed. This wasn’t how I wanted us to spend our night together. “As much as I love the friends I made in England, I missed all of my friends in America. Besides, I didn’t get to spend as much time with the girls and we’re family.”

“You could have invited them to come join us in England.”

“Can we not talk about this? Not tonight, please?” I asked. I waited for Millie to nod her head. “Thank you. I just want to take you out to dinner and have a nice night with you.”

We walked in silence for a couple of minutes before it was starting to bother me. 

“Just make me a promise, okay?” I asked catching Millie’s attention. “Just promise me that we’re gonna stay together.”

“I promise.”

I gave Millie a soft smile before I grabbed onto her hand. Millie pulled me closer to her causing my smile to grow even more. We might be going through a rough spot, but I knew that we could get through it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks for giving me the key,” I smiled at Carly as she handed her room key. I was lucky that Carly had been roomed with Millie. It meant that I could get Carly’s room key and go see Millie today as a surprise.

“Yeah, of course,” Carly nodded. She patted my shoulder as she started to walk down the hallway. “Millie’s been in a bit of a mood lately. Figured it might help if you got to see her again.”

I shook my head at her as I headed down the opposite way of the hall so I could go see my girlfriend. It didn’t take me long to get to the room or to open the door. But I froze when I saw Millie on top of someone else.

“(Y/N), I-”

“You’re fucking Alex Greenwood? Are you serious?” I scoffed. I shook my head. “You promised. You promised that we would stay together and here you are behind my back fucking your teammate?”

“Don’t act like you’re innocent here.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You don’t have to pretend like you haven’t been doing the same thing with Morgan.”

“You think I’m sleeping with Morgan? Moe is straight! She has a husband!”

“Not Morgan Brian! Alex Morgan! I’m not a dumbass, (Y/N),” Millie yelled at me. That hurt because even though I did have a crush on Alex, I had never acted on it. “I know how you feel about her! I know she’s the reason why you choose to go to Orlando!”

“You obviously don’t know shit! I have never slept with Alex!” I snapped. Millie didn’t get to act like I was the one to blame when she was the one who was in bed with someone else. “I can’t believe that I thought what we had was real.”

“No, you don’t get to say that,” Millie shook her head. “I don’t get to say that? You’re the one in bed with Greenwood! Just fuck off and leave me alone. Lose my number and have fun with your new girl,” I said. I glanced at Greenwood. “Hope she doesn’t stab you in the back like she has to me.”

Millie grabbed my wrist but I shoved her off of me before leaving. I sent Carly a text letting her know that she could come find me to get her card whenever before I headed upstairs to where the US floor was. I had one place I wanted to be right now.

I stopped in front of the door knowing that the person I wanted to see was behind there. She had tried to convince me to spend the day with her when she found out that I wasn’t going to go out with the others. I wipped at the tears trying to give myself some sense of composure before I raised my fist to knock.

The door was pulled opened before I could even knock. The person in front of me nearly collided into me before she realized I was standing outside her door. The blue eyes were piercing into my own eyes.

“I was gonna knock,” my voice cracked.

The older striker wrapped me in a hug as I broke down. Alex immediately pulled me back into her room as she didn’t let go. I wasn’t sure how long I had sat there crying to Alex before my tears finally stopped. I was just laying there cuddled into Alex’s side.

There was a knock at the door and Alex tried to stand. I only clutched onto Alex tighter so she couldn’t move. Alex ran a hand through my hair.

“Hey, it’s just Carly. She’s here to get her room key,” Alex softly said. 

I nodded my head and let go of her. I moved over so that I had my head on the pillow as I watched Alex get up to go answer the door. I tensed when she disappeared from my line of sight but I could hear her and Carly talking.

It didn’t take long before Carly and Alex both came over to the bed. Alex climbed in the bed behind me while Carly knelt down by the bed. She gave me a sad smile.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hey, Carly. I have your card.”

“Yeah, I know. What happened? You were so excited to get to spend some time with Millie.”

“Yeah, we’re over,” I sighed. Carly furrowed her brow in confusion. “I walked in and she was there with Greenwood. In bed.”

“That dumb bitch.”

“She thought I was having an affair.”

“Listen to me, kid,” Carly placed a hand under my chin causing me to keep my eyes trained on her. “Millie’s an idiot and I’m gonna kick her ass, okay. You are gonna be okay. Your teammates love you and they’ll have your back. You’re going to bounce back from this and show Millie that she should have treated you better.”

Carly placed a kiss on the top of my head before standing up. She looked at Alex.

“You better take care of her, Morgan. I won’t hesitate to kick your ass, too.”

Alex nodded and I watched as Carly left. Alex just held me for a while. I eventually turned over so that I could face her. I knew she had questions.

“So, Telfrod seems over protective of you.”

“Well, when you guys are roommates for two years, it tends to happen.”

Alex nodded and went quiet again. It was killing me now. The fact that she wouldn’t ask me even though I knew what she wanted to ask me.

“Millie and I started dating a little over a year ago,” I started to explain. Alex frowned as she furrowed her brow. “We didn’t tell anyone. Only our teammates at Chelsea knew. At first we wanted to keep it on the downlow in case it didn’t work out because we were at the same club and then we just wanted some time for oursevles. Before we knew it, it was World Cup year and we didn’t want  to stress our teammates out with the news so we decided that we were going to wait until after the World Cup ended.”

“It was going to get rough with you coming back to the US to play,” Alex pointed out.

“Yeah, Millie definitely didn’t like that,” I nodded. It hurt me to even think about the fact that Millie and I were growing apart anyways. “Did you have any other kinds of questions about it?”

“No.”

“Just don’t leave, Alex.”

“I promise-”

“Don’t promise me you won’t leave. Just don’t leave. I don’t think I can handle another promise right now,” I cut her off. Alex nodded as she placed a kiss on my head before pulling me closer to her.

#Alex Morgan imagine #Alex Morgan imagines #Alex Morgan x reader #Alex morgan #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #uswnt

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 9)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Red Strings of Fate

Next Chapter: Invisible Ties

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Chapter 9: Wait for Me

After the mission, you got back to the Kyoto High School campus. Both of you were still a little awkward, not knowing exactly how to proceed with your relationship. Are you dating now? Not necessarily.

Noritoshi reached out to you from behind, but thought better and retracted his hand. You seemed to have zoned out for the rest of the mission, so he thought it would be better to give you a bit of space.

You both were outside your dorm room after having submitted the report about how the mission went.

You turned back to face Noritoshi, “Thank you so much for accompanying me on my first ever mission senpai. It was definitely a different experience from just sparring with other jujutsu sorcerers. I’ll do my best to improve.”

You lowered your head, but he bent his knees so he could face you, “You definitely have talent and raw power. Please be more logical in your tactical and in-fight responses next time. Thank you for protecting me.” He spoke quietly so as to not disturb the other students who are already in bed.

You smiled tightly, “Just… doing my job.”

You looked up to face him. There was something cloudy and stormy in his expression that you couldn’t quite read.

He was such a hard man to read, Kamo Noritoshi. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know much about the man who is your soulmate.

Noritoshi pulled back with his usual solemn expression. “You should go on ahead and get some rest. Good night.”

“Good night Noritoshi senpai.” You weakly called out, before going back into your room. Your heart had never pounded this hard and fast before, you were sure. You had trouble going to sleep that night, remembering the second vision you both shared.

On the other hand Noritoshi’s head was spinning by the time he got back into his room. He could still feel the ghost of the kiss from the vision and wondered how it would feel to hold you close to him like that.

◇◇◇

During the weekend, Noritoshi went back to the Kamo Clan estate and told his father of everything that had occurred between the two of you. As soon as he finished his father softly slammed down a fist on his desk out of excitement.

“It’s been how many years since the last known living pair of soulmates existed? They were so highly regarded that most pairs chose to live in complete isolation out of fear of being targeted. We need to be careful, but this is truly a blessing from the heavens.” His father smiled.

Noritoshi’s dad pushed a book towards him. “We were able to find a very old record of soulmates from our clan’s history. Kamo no Hotaru. A man who lived quietly, after eloping with his soulmate away from the Kamo clan. His partner was said to be a woman from the Abe clan. They supposedly died in battle, according to records. This happened during the rise of curses right before the Heian era.” His father spoke solemnly.

Noritoshi felt chills run up his spine upon hearing his words. “The woman’s name is unknown. But her parents were known to have not approved of her involvement with Hotaru kun. This was as written in the diary entries of Hotaru. Curses and curse users alike were drawn towards their synergy and tried to break them apart or at least kill one of them.”

“They might have survived had they stayed with their families, but they chose love above all. Back then it was not yet widely known about how soulmates’ offsprings could have a power far greater than their parents’, but now we do. But even apart from that, a soulmate bond is said to make both halves grow stronger. So make sure that you don’t let go of her. Charm her and make sure she stays with you. A stronger bond will give you strength as a Jujutsu sorcerer.” His father orders him.

The words were swimming in Noritoshi’s head. But… “If it’s simply falling for her and making her fall for me, it should come naturally with time father. To be frank, I’ve been attracted to her since our first meeting. I will do my best.” Noritoshi said firmly.

◇◇◇

Days after your first mission, Noritoshi’s words from your first mission together still bothered you. It was so dumb on your part. “You don’t know me.” Those words just kept repeating in your mind. It wasn’t wrong.

Make no mistake, Noritoshi didn't mean to offend you at all. From his point of view, he only wanted you to tell him the real reason as to why you saved him without thinking of your actions. He didn't mean to hurt you with his words.

You tried to let it go, knowing that he was just extra worried at that time. But to be honest, it was something that still hung over you. You wished to know him better, not only as a soulmate, but also as a friend.

Everytime Noritoshi came around you and greeted you hello, your heart would tighten just a bit. He could start to feel the weighted heaviness on your soul that he didn't realize was yours via the bond.

He simply thought that he was also feeling down for no reason. It was a long way, distinguishing whose emotions were whose, as the bond is still so fresh between the two of you.

And so he gave his mother a call and scheduled a meetup with her.

“Hello? Mother. Yes, I am well. How are you? …. That’s good to hear. Are you free this weekend? …. Nothing really, I just wanted to see you. …. Yes, me too. …. All is going well here at school, you don’t have to worry I promise. … Yes father is okay. …. Thank you, I’ll see you this Saturday then. Goodbye.” Beep.

◇◇◇

In the following weeks, Noritoshi had been incredibly busy to say the least. He was finally getting promoted to a semi grade 1 as long as he does well in his next mission.

His father was constantly reminding him to make sure he makes you fall in love with him as his soulmate, and hurry it up so that the rest of the clan can meet you already. And he just really wanted to see his mother.

One afternoon you tried to cheer him up after noticing his bad moods. You made senpai some coffee and brought him pastries in your free time.

You sent him a text saying you had something for him. He replied that you could stay for a bit in his room.

“Pardon my intrusion!” You called out as you went in. The door was left unlocked for you. “Come in.” Noritoshi looked up tiredly. His eyes had heavy bags and he looked so exhausted.

“I’m sorry to be bothering you. I just brought some coffee and pastries here so that you can regain a bit of energy senpai.” you whispered, not wanting to be too loud for him.

“It’s not a bother. I’ve just been swamped with so much work as of the late.”

"Senpai, have you… considered getting a bit of rest first? The TOEIC is still a long way to go." You stared at the papers that read "TOEIC 990" stacked on top of his desk.

"I have other matters I’m attending to. Family business and other missions." He grunted while continuing to write down on his paper. He was definitely stressed and overworked.

Maybe he needed someone, like a family member. You tried to empathize with him, "I see. Have you heard from your mom and dad lately? I also understand if you're feeling homesick, I feel the same…" You trailed off upon seeing his face tighten at the mention of his mother.

Your heart dropped.

"That's none of your business." He whispered coldly without thinking.

Fuck y/n. You stepped on a landmine.

You inhaled sharply, backing away. “Ah, I’m so sorry to be intruding. I stepped out of bounds. Please get as much rest as you need.”

You quickly excused yourself from his room feeling so confused from his sudden cold demeanour.

Noritoshi reached out to you, “Wait! I didn’t-” but you already closed his door and stumbled out of his room faster than he could react.

He gave a deep sigh, not meaning to offend you or anything. He just wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone else, and that included you at the moment.

He was just feeling stressed, because he had to cancel his meetup with his mother since his father demanded to talk with him about other clan matters.

He groaned out in frustration. “I’ll have to talk and apologize to her later.” He noticed a heavy and sharp tugging at his heart. He dropped his pen in surprise and stared at his chest in confusion.

"This… these aren't my emotions…" it dawned on him finally. Finally, you both are starting to share very strong bursts of emotion.

Pain and sorrow. Your emotions washed over him like a tidal wave, so sudden that he didn't realize tears were running down one side of his left eye.

He felt guilt and regret like never before.

◇◇◇

A strong wave of regret and guilt stabbed through you. You were pretty sure that these were Noritoshi's emotions.

You finally started feeling something from his end, but you just felt heavy. Was it supposed to be tiring to be a fated pair? Or was it just the bond that was messing up both of your emotions?

You couldn’t even ask anyone else for help, because currently there are no known living soulmates. Besides you and Noritoshi that is.

◇◇◇

The next time you met each other, it was a bit awkward. You tried to give him space during the past few days, understanding that it must be what he needed.

After all, he didn't seem too keen on the way you tried to connect with him last time. You probably overstepped your boundaries. It's true, even though you're soulmates, you're still just friends at this stage.

But Noritoshi found himself looking for you. Trying to catch you in his free time, he finally found you in the weaponry, training with your twin blades.

He stared at your figure. You looked like you were dancing rather than fighting. Smaller daggers controlled by your cursed energy flew around you, covering for any blind spots.

They came to a halt as you set them down and deactivated your technique.

"May I help you Noritoshi senpai?" You asked without turning to look at him. He felt his throat tighten up.

"I came to apologise." Your fingers twitched as though itching to throw your dagger at him. But of course you would never.

"Ahhh, it's okay, Noritoshi senpai. I'm sorry for rudely not minding my own business. Even though we might be soulmates, you're not my boyfriend. We are just good friends aren't we?" You said as you finally turned to face him.

‘Set the boundaries and define the relationship’, you thought to yourself.

Every word you said felt like you were pushing the needle deeper in your heart. It hurt, and you both knew it.

He stepped towards you, standing inches away and shaking his head. "I took out my anger and stress on you, and that was wrong of me. I'm sorry. I do care about you deeply, and you're much more than a friend. You are a very special person to me.``

"Don't say words you don't mean Noritoshi senpai. Please." Your heart was slowly crumbling. He looked pained. "I am not lying. Please believe me.”

But you shook your head and stood your ground. You could feel a fraction of his emotions at this stage of the bond. And you knew in your heart that he was just as confused as you are, trying to feel his way into this relationship.

Noritoshi’s father’s words echoed in his head, ‘Don’t let her go.’

"Don't be unfair to me y/n. If I need time I need it. And I will surely fall for you. If you need time, I’ll also give it to you." He whispered out urgently. "We have a lifetime together."

How did he always sound so sure of himself? Of the future for both of you? You looked back up at him with teary eyes. It sounded so wrong, like he was forcing himself to love you just for the sake of the bond. Does that even count...

"To be honest with you, I don't know what to feel right now senpai." Your voice cracked. His heart broke upon seeing you like this. But nothing can be done.

Does the knowledge of a soulbond always bring a pair together or does it doom two people who are not yet ready to love?

"Wait for me." He promised as he took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes. Your marks felt warm.

You finally felt yourself calm down. And it was so frustrating that you're becoming so dependent on him, turning to him for physical affection. He was the cause of your sorrows and joys altogether.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #blood bound #red strings of fate #noritoshi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #noritoshi angst #mahito #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fic #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi fluff #kamo noritoshi x you #jjk kamo #noritoshi x you

[thenamesseven]

Warnings: Mentions of fights and blood.

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: It’s finally here! I’m going to do a taglist so send me a message if you want to be added!

@guess--monster​

Masterlist                   Next Chapter->

You have waited years for this moment, five to be exact yet now that you were parked in front of the prison your best friend was locked in, the place that he had been living in all these days since that fateful night your body was completely glued to your car seat.

Your hands had only left the steering wheel to turn off the car's ignition and your eyes were frozen on the boring looking building placed in front of you. Sighing, you reached up with one of your shaky hands to brush some of your hair out of your face, calming down had been impossible since this morning, in fact, you were sure it was a miracle that you hadn't suffered a heart attack yet. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage and you knew it would beat even faster as soon as you stepped out of the car. 

Your mind was not better, there were a million questions running through it, echoing in your concerned thoughts. Would he remember you? How would he react when he saw you? Did he change or was he still your Jongho? And the most important question out of the thousands you kept coming up with. 

Was he mad at you? 

He was locked in that cell and wouldn't get out of it for a lot of years thanks to you. What happened that night had only been your fault yet Jongho took advantage of your shock to save you from the horrible fate that would have awaited you in court. No matter how much you and the best lawyers you had found for him fought for his freedom, his reputation as a gang member and the sins he committed for that night were stronger than the truth nobody believed and put your best friend behind bars for an eternity. 

Jongho had every right to hate you even when you were here to get him out of this prison. 

The plan didn't have any details yet, you only had the objective and even though you believed your life would totally change once your best friend was out of that cell he now called home you couldn't stop thinking it would be worth it. 

Jongho deserved to be free, he deserved to live his life. 

"Come on…You can do this" You whispered to yourself, finally opening the door to get out of it as you grabbed your purse "You owe him your life, you can't back out of this now"

Your voice shook as much as your hands did, you knew you couldn't walk inside in this state but fear was taking control of your body. The fact that you were planning to set Jongho free when the law said he should be locked up for more years than he could survive made you a bit paranoid. It was completely impossible that somebody would guess your plan on your first day at work but who were you trying to lie to? You've always been a good girl, rules were never broken by you and now, all of a sudden, you were planning an escape plan for your imprisoned best friend Jongho. 

You were way out of your comfort zone. 

"Identification please" The guard's voice who was standing on the other side of the fence snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes travelled up to him although you couldn't see much of his face thanks to the blue cap he was wearing. 

"Uh yeah, sorry" Your voice shook a little as your hands instantly fished into your purse, getting your wallet and your ID out so he could check it. 

He looked down at it before looking at you once again, now that he was entirely sure you were the same person in the picture, he signaled for his mates to open the fence and let you walk inside and deeper into the lion's dent. 

"Have a nice day" He said with a small smile, nodding his head once in a greeting way as you walked inside. Too nervous to speak again, you only glanced his way and nodded back, fearing that he would somehow guess your intentions based on the tone of your voice. 

With the sound of your high heels clicking against the pavement, you tried to take deep breaths as you walked into the prison, ready to face your best friend after so many years and ready to get him out of there as soon as you could. 

In one of the hundreds of cells that were inside the building, Jongho laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

Everyone had warned him of all the dangers that hid in prison. Psychos waiting to kill you, corrupted cops that wouldn't miss the chance to ruin your life, the lost of friends that were either murdered by somebody else or by themselves, the homesickness….But nobody had warned him about boredom and how dangerous it was for the mind to repeat the same exact routine one day after another.  After his first four years locked up he needed some changes or his sanity would start to get damaged.

"I heard someone new is coming to work here" Min Yoongi, Jongho's cell partner commented out of nowhere. He was not much of a talkative person, Yoongi only started a conversation when his own thoughts got too scary for him to handle and he needed a distraction. 

He didn't tell you this of course but Jung Hoseok, one of his closest friends, liked to gossip too much and sometimes useful information about other inmates slipped from his lips. Jongho had always been smart enough to keep his private information for himself. 

"Oh really?" Jongho didn't care too much, the people working in this prison were as nice as….Let's just say they weren't nice at all "New guard?"

"New nurse" Now, Yoongi was one of the few people that always managed to hear about everything people talked about. No matter how quietly you talked, how secretive you were, he was always there listening, it was obvious why Hoseok was his closest friend, Yoongi was a fountain of gossip "Jaehyun, the guy from cell 67, hurt the last one so bad during a check-up that the poor guy ended up being too scared to come back to work"

"He was an asshole so whatever Jaehyun did, the guy probably deserved it" He muttered shrugging, keeping his eyes on the ceiling as they talked "Let's hope this one is better"

"I heard she is a girl, so she might be a bit more sensitive" Yoongi added, sitting up straight on his bed. 

"A girl?" Jongho frowned, turning his head to move his eyes away from the ceiling and back to Yoongi just to make sure he wasn't just fucking around with him. 

"Crazy right?" Yoongi scoffed "With all the pervs that are locked up in here I bet she won't last too long"

"Or maybe she is a badass and kicks all our asses" Jongho said with a small smirk, making Yoongi smile too in amusement "Who knows?"

Little did Jongho know that the nurse they were talking about would be you and that you were only a coward with a mission disguised as a badass. 

“So this is where you will be working” The guard, whose name you hadn’t had the pleasure to discover yet, that had been guiding you through the facilities mostly showing you the areas that were empty of inmates, stopped once you reached the nurse office “Though, I would recommend you to bring a book or something to entertain yourself”

Your eyebrows arched up, curious at his advice “Not to many patients to deal with?” You asked with a polite smile. Not that you were disappointed by that, you had only wanted to work in this place to get Jongho out somehow, not to treat some people that could snap your neck before you blinked.

“If it’s a good day you won’t get any visits” He answered, hands in his pockets, relaxed as the two of you chatted. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to going back to his work and showing the newbie around seemed to be the perfect excuse to avoid that “Unfortunately, there are bad days too” He sighed tiredly, hinting that he had been present in more bad days than he would like. 

“What would you define as a bad day?” You asked hesitantly, you weren’t sure if you really wanted to know what he considered a bad day. You were at a prison after all.

“Someone getting stabbed, beated to almost death, strang-”

“I think I get it now” You interrupted before he could keep listing horrible events that you didn’t even want to think about “I hope you all don’t go through bad days too often”

The guard smiled sympathetically “That depends on how well these guys want to behave” The two of you stayed silent for a second, it was obvious that the conversation topics between the two of you were slowly coming to an end despite his insistence of keeping the chatting alive “Don’t worry about your safety though, most of the guys here wouldn’t hurt you and the ones that possibly would are never left alone, a guard will stay with you if they think you could be at risk” You nodded at this information, partly glad at that. 

Prisons were no joke and truly dangerous people were locked up in here, murderers and rapists were something you would have to deal with if you wanted your plan to go well. Although this kind of worried you, Jongho had been sentenced because he murdered somebody and even though newspapers made sure to let the world know that the life he ended that night was not an innocent one, he was still considered a murderer and a gang-member. Would they leave him alone with you if he ever needed medical assistance? Because if they didn’t, you were royally fucked.

“That’s a relief” You said with a small smile, hand going up to your chest as you let out a small sigh “I was a bit worried about that, I’ve never worked in this kind of…” Your voiced died down a little, not really sure about how to refer to this place without sounding scared as fuck or insulting “Kind of place”

“Don’t worry, the inmates behave most of the time” Not going to lie, the fact that they didn’t behave all the time wasn’t surprising but that didn’t make it less scary. The guard opened his mouth to say something else but a static voice coming from his walkie-talkie interrupted your conversation, signaling him that it was about time for him to come back to his real work. Throwing a small smile your way, he picked up the device and muttered a quiet ‘On my way’ before turning his attention back to you “Well, I’ll see you around miss” He said with a friendly smile, nodding his head as his feet started walking backwards “Good luck on your first day!” 

You nodded, standing outside of the infirmary until he disappeared around the corner. Left alone in that hall you truly didn’t know what to do with yourself, despite his reassurance of the guards protecting you from any danger you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by the idea of having to treat inmates. Jongho better not be mad at you or you would beat his ass.

Sighing you finally opened the door to what would be your work space for as long as you needed to perfect your plan and the situation didn’t improve. Nobody had told you what had happened to the last person that abandoned this position but by the blood on the wall poorly cleaned you could slightly guess what had happened.

“The things you get yourself into” You whispered to yourself, dropping your purse on the desk as you walked deeper into the dusty room, eyes scanning your surroundings and purposefully avoiding the blood stains on the white wall.

“That’s exactly what my mom tells me whenever she visits” 

You were startled by the new voice coming from behind you, hands instantly going to your chest where your heart was pounding incredibly hard against your ribcage and breath getting caught in your throat, good thing you hadn’t been holding something like your phone or you would have dropped it for sure.

When you turned around to find the source of your almost heart attack, what you found standing there didn’t make it less scary. Your first inmate patient was standing by the doorway and by the lack of guards around him, you guessed he wasn’t considered a threat. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you” 

He was tall, like ridiculously tall. This guy was probably three head taller than you and even though it probably wasn’t his intention, his height only made him more intimidating for you. Although, the way his smile seemed shy and his eyes darted away from you gave away that he was being honest. His hair was blond and looked fluffy, how his hair managed to look better than yours in a place like this was a mystery but if you two would have been in a totally different situation you would have asked about the products he used.

This wasn’t the time to think of that. Dumbass.

“It’s alright, you just interrupted my daydreaming session” You said with a small smile in return, forcing yourself to relax and not be so on edge. Just because he was in this place didn’t mean he would try to kill you whenever he got the chance. “Can I help you?” He nodded to your question, less tense now that you had visibly relaxed and decided it would be a good moment to walk into the room too, always keeping his distance with you. He was probably conscious of your nerves and didn’t want to freak you out.

“I’m Mingi or inmate 2356 but you know, since numbers are difficult to remember you can call me by my name” His little presentation mixed with the friendly smile that stretched the corners of his lips upwards brought a smile of your own to your face.

“Well, nice to meet you inmate 2356” You joked with a smirk, leaning back against your desk as you crossed your arms on your chest, keeping down the bubbly chuckle that threatened to spill from your lips.

“Damn, she’s good with numbers, what do I do know?” He joked back, laughing quietly as he fidgeted with the hem of his orange clothes. “Let’s start all over again, my name is Mingi, nice to meet you” His smile widened when you finally chuckled, if his objective had been relaxing you in his presence then he had done a pretty good job.

“Nice to meet you Mingi” You said amused, not scared of him and his height anymore as your eyes travelled down his figure, searching any wounds that you could treat or anything that told you he was sick but to your surprise, nothing was found “You look fine to me, what can I help you with?” 

“Well, you can say no if you don’t want to but I used to help the last guy that worked here, you know, we all have to study or work in here and since books were never for me I worked my way to the Infirmary!” He said with a proud smile, one that kind of make you think he was cute “So I was wondering if I could keep learning and helping you out, I promise I won’t mess things up and that I’ll take this seriously”

The way he kept saying that he wouldn’t mind if you rejected him but also kept lowkey trying to convince you made your smile even bigger. He seemed to be a nice guy and you honestly wouldn’t mind having some company around, it would surely make things a bit more difficult for you and Jongho but maybe if he even showed he could be trusted, you could tell him your true intentions and plans. Mingi could be helpful for sure.

“Okay, having some company sounds nice” You accepted, uncrossing your arms and getting ready to clean the room a little and organize everything on the shelves. There was so much work to do and so little time to keep friendly chatting with Mingi.

“Thanks God, I really didn’t want to go back to painting classes” He mumbled while watching you, pulling the sleeves of his uniform up so he could start helping you out in whatever you were planning to do at the moment. 

“I’m assuming you weren’t born to be the next Van Gogh?” You asked chuckling, hearing how Mingi snorted.

“These hands were made to make many things but paintings are not one of them for sure” He answered and even though your eyes weren’t on him right now, you could hear the smile on his lips.

“I hope they were made to heal people” You teased.

“Were they? We’ll see” He said in a light tone obviously joking “So what’s your name? Since you don’t have a number I can easily remember” Mingi muttered teasing you about your greeting earlier, making you smile again.

“My name is (Y/N)” You simply said.

Mingi froze in his place, his smile only getting wider as he turned around to look at you. He had been having the feeling that he knew you as soon as he walked in the infirmary but he hadn’t been able to guess the reason why you were so familiar to him. Now that you had said your name, Mingi remembered how many times his friend had spoken about you, how easily was to make him smile whenever he remembered your shenanigans and oh god, let’s not talk about the picture he had in his cell of the two of you. Sure you looked way younger but Mingi was sure you were her, you were Jongho’s girl.

“Wait, your (Y/N)?” He asked genuinely surprised, making you stop your rearranging of the medicines that were on the shelves to turn around and look at him.

“I just told you” You snorted, not really getting why he was asking that.

“I can’t wait to tell Jongho you’re here” He said smiling warmly.

“You know Jongho?” You asked surprised, eyes glued to his face.

“Of course I do” He said as if it was the same obvious thing, pointing to the tattoo on his wrist “We were in the same gang”

#kpop #kpop story #kpop fanfic #kpop fancfiction #ateez #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez yunho #ateez hongjoong #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #ateez jongho #jongho #jongho x reader #jongho smut #jongho fluff #jongho angst

[milkacchan]

Bakusquad HC's prt 3

•M o v i e s

• Horror movies are a go too. You and Bakugou don't really get scared by horror movies- Kirishima will get occasionally freaked out but he's usually fine for the most part.

• Everyone else gets scared shitless but they love the rush so its fine.

• Kirishima is VERY touchy during horror movies. And when you get freaked out at a movie (which isnt often so Kirishima revels in it) he'll hold you to his chest and hold your hand while you sink into him, quietly freaking out

• They know your favorite foods, they know your usual order to every restaurant you like, your favorite soda and tea- and your favorite candy.

• just in case

• They help you with being homesick. You lived in one country for so long and then suddenly it was all uprooted and you had to leave everything behind. You didn't have time to really say goodbye.

• So it hits you a lot that you aren't home.

• You try to hide it but they figure it out and break out what they can do help you

• They are SO In tune with your emotions, and you're REALLY I'm tune with theirs

• Aizawa is SHOOKETH when you get Bakugou to calm down with little damage

• UA keeps Aizawa with class A throughout their time there bc he's so good w them and they need him fight me

• You and Kirishima are the ONLY ones who have managed to calm Bakugo down

• Lmao, you call him Bakustay

• "Baku, Baku, they always say Bakugo, but they never say bakustay."

"I could stab you. Right now. And no one would care."

• Goes along w it for your sake

• Bakugou is alternately known as sparky sparky boom man.

• Kirishima is Baby

• Mina is known as baddie 1

• Jirou is baddie 2

• Sero is Shaggy.

• Kaminari is Pikachu

• You are, eagle one.

• Aizawa is eagle two

• Code names bro- totally needed.

• At one point they ask if you and Kiri are a thing bc uh

• You are a thing but not really.

• Y'all are just really affectionate and that's OKAY

• You're just super affectionate and touchy even if you do act like you hate it sometimes you physically cannot live without it

• Cried once bc there hadnt been a group snuggle that week and you needed the touch

• You get GRUMPY if you don't get the touch you need.

• let's get this straight- you're not clingy- at least not in a bad way. You know when its appropriate and when it's not and space is given yada yada none of that's a problem

• But you need physical affection- not just from anyone (tho sometimes you'll settle for hugging Midoryia or todoroki and you exchange student friends which obviously makes bakusquad jelly) but from them. And its CLEAR when you need it.

• One day you were in a mood and you hadnt had your family goodmorning hug for kiri or mina and so on- and you had to sparr. You fought against Monoma and you Kicked. His. Ass.

• No remorse, no words, just grunts and pure ass kick.

• You came in first during that sparr day.

• Bottom line is it's really easy to tell when you've been too deprived and you need it and they'll hug you and you'll just melt its great.

• They do NOT play when it comes to your feelings. This has been established in part 1.

• They will DRAG whoever the fuck makes you sad.

• They have ZERO tolerance for it. They WILL fuck a bitch up.

• they HAVE fucked a bitch up and will GLADLY do it AGAIN

• This girl kept harassing you about where you were from, your quirk, personality, you know, the usual, and you came back to the dorms, relatively quiet one night.

• Obviously they're concerned bc you are a sarcastic ray of sunshine when you're not shy but tonight you aren't.

• And obviously they pry it out of you. And they're PISSED.

• The boys can't touch her- they'd get in serious trouble but Mina, oh mina. Mina takes no hesitation and DRAgS her.

• Teaches the girl a real nice lesson that has her crying apologies.

• The girl was not in school the next day haha

• Sleepovers with Mina on the regular.

• Doesn't matter who's dorm (though she likes your dorm better bc of how it looks)

• Jirou doesn't really like sleepovers- unless it's with Kaminari- but she'll join occasionally

• Mina likes to cuddle, doesnt matter how, as long as shes touching you

• Sleepovers to tend to lead to something else- but they don't always.

• Clothing is shared. You have a drawer in your room dedicated to clothes you've stolen. Includes:

- 2 of Kirishimas sweatshirts that he used purposefully so that you'd steal them (totally gets them back so they'll smell like him again duh)

- Three of Bakugous t-shirts that he insists he wants back but refusing to take them

- A pair of Minas shorts (These are worn regularly bc ur ass looks great)

- One of Jirous going out shirts that she really likes but likes seeing you wear

- Seros gray sweatpants (that you also wear regularly even tho they're big on you)

- Kaminaris favorite PJ shirt that he's been looking for for like 3 months

• Makes your heart go uwu

@zayenz

#midoriya x bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakusquad #bakugou katsuki #omega bakugou #kirishima x sero #sero x kaminari #sero x mina #sero x reader #shinsou x kaminari #kirishima x kaminari #kaminari x reader #mha kirishima #kiribaku #kirishima x reader #kirishima x bakugou #mina x bakugou #mina x sero #mina x reader #mina x kirishima #poly bakudeku x reader #poly bakusquad #denki x jirou #jirou x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x todoroki #bhna todoroki #todoroki shouto #todoroki x deku #todoroki x reader

[queenof-literature]

hello! I was wondering if you could do bonding moments with some of the lu boys? It doesn’t have to be anyone specifically though! Just like pure fluff or maybe angst with hurt/comfort?

Hi! Thank you for requesting! I plan to write others in the future, but for now, here’s some hurt/comfort with Legend and Hyrule :)

Warning: Some descriptions of a panic attack

It turns out, getting chucked through a portal in the middle of the night and getting separated from the rest of the group was a shitty way to start a morning. Luckily, Legend found Hyrule only a short distance from where he ended up. He had no idea if the others were separated too, or where they were, but apparently this was Hyrule’s Hyrule. Thankfully, the group had come up with a plan for if they ever got separated. Ask directions for the nearest town and meet there. And if that didn’t work, they each set a destination for them to meet up near the center of their land. Legend couldn’t remember Hyrule’s set destination, but Legend was content to simply follow him to the nearest town where they would hopefully find the other Links. Or better yet, maybe their new addition, Wild, would light something on fire and they could find the group that way.

It wasn’t all bad. He was at least stuck with Hyrule which was a small bright side. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he enjoyed the younger’s company. It was nice to simply walk along the beaten path with comfortable silence instead of forced conversation. Legend shuddered to think what would happen if he were stuck with Warriors instead. Although, Hyrule seemed slightly nervous for some reason. Not enough to appear so on the outside to others, but enough to set off small alarms in Legend’s head. He had always been observant. He wouldn’t confront Hyrule quite yet, he would simply be alert.

A rustle in the trees cut off any thoughts he was musing on and caused him to draw his sword instantly. Looking over at his companion, Hyrule had drawn his sword as well with a look of grim determination. Hopefully they would be lucky and it was Wolfie coming to lead them to their group.

They weren’t lucky.

A lean woman leaped from the bushes, knocking Legend back against a tree. Pain shot up his spine as his head snapped back against the harsh bark. Everything went black for a second, and Legend distantly accepted he most likely had a minor concussion. Shit. Where was Hyrule?

Legend forced himself up from where he was slumped against the tree, only to see Hyrule pinned by the woman, completely restrained. Upon closer inspection, this wasn’t a woman. Her face was shriveled and seemed drained of any blood, eyes a deep red, and fingernails disgustingly thick and as long as Legend’s hand.

Hyrule continued to struggle against the grip of the horrifying monster above him.

“Oh come now little hero.” The monster purred, dragging along her fingers across Hyrule’s cheek. “Does your little companion know of your blood? You know we’ll do anything to get it.” Hyrule’s cheek began to bleed, much to the delight of the monster above him. Hyrule’s expression was full of anger and defiance, and Legend was proud as shit. Legend began to stand , making as little noise as possible. If the monster detected him, she could kill the hero underneath her without another thought, purely out of spite. Legend had no idea what she was capable of.

“Get off of me!” Hyrule snarled, reaching desperately for his sword, strewn across the ground inches from his reach.

“No, little hero.” The monster licked her lips as Hyrule’s blood slowly gushed down his cheek. “Would your companions still care? If they knew what you were to us? How much danger they’re in with you around? No matter now. With you here, he’ll rise again.” The woman’s long forked tongue slipped out and licked Hyrule’s cheek. That, combined with her words was the last fucking straw.

Legend chucked his sword into the monster’s back, causing her to screech in pain. Hyrule took the distraction and launched to the side, fingers finally able to grasp his sword. Hyrule swung directly up, cutting through the monster's skin once more. The monster wailed as blood poured from her wounds. Hyrule quickly stabbed her through the chest, finishing the battle quickly and removing all traces of her. It should have been all of it, there was no body and no blood. But Hyrule still felt the hand on his cheek, still felt the disgusting tongue. He didn’t notice how his breathing sped up or how Legend turned to congratulate him on his impressive swordsmanship. All he felt were the touches of the monster, all he heard were her taunts. Goddamn it, he had to get himself together. It was just a monster. The group dealt with them almost everyday.

He barely even recognized Legend was trying to talk to him, it was only her and monsters of the past.

‘You’ll die, the blood will leave your body.’

‘I can’t wait to see your eyes dull as our master rises once again.’

‘Your blood for our master.’

‘Hyrule’

‘You’ll die a failure.’

‘Weaklings like you won’t belong in his world forged from your blood.’

‘Hyrule’

‘You’re a danger to them.’

“Hyrule!” Dull eyes snapped back to life at Legend’s harsh call. Oh no, the monster told him. He knew. He’ll tell the rest of them.

“Hyrule, you gotta calm down. Can I touch you?” Hyrule nodded without thinking, if Legend hits him Hyrule wouldn’t know what he’d do. He was pathetic right now, tears streaming down his bloodied cheek.

Legend didn’t know what to do. Hyrule was panicking and he didn’t know why. Probably what the she-devil said. He kept calling Hyrule’s name but he simply wouldn’t respond, like he couldn’t hear him. Legend had panicked like this before, all the heroes had, but some liked to be touched and comforted and others didn’t.

“Hyrule!” Legend watched as Hyrule’s eyes finally flickered up, not quite meeting Legend’s. “Can I touch you?” Legend asked as gently as he could. Hyrule simply nodded, and Legend pulled him into a loose hug, gentle enough that he could escape if he wanted to. When Hyrule relaxed slightly, Legend tightened his hold. Hyrule curled up in the embrace and continued to try to hold back tears that simply wanted to keep flowing. “Don’t be embarrassed about crying.” Legend muttered awkwardly. He really sucked at this whole comfort thing. He just thought about what Warriors would do with Wind. Ugh. He never thought he would be looking to that asshole for an example.

“Something tells me it’s more complicated than just that weird ass monster just now. Yeah?” Legend asked softly, feeling Hyrule simply nod his head against his shoulder. Yeah… that’s what Legend figured. He hesitantly reached his hand up to run through Hyrule’s brown locks. That’s what Warriors did when Wind was homesick, right? His hand slowly carded through the other’s hair, and the small boy relaxed further into him. Thank Hylia. Maybe Legend would be able to get through this without messing it up too bad. Hyrule’s tears seemed to flow more, but he barely made a sound. He seemed instinctually determined to cry as silently as possible, and Legend didn’t really want to know why that had become natural to the brunette.

“Do  you - um - want to talk about it?” Legend wanted to slap his own forehead. Where was Time when you need him? “I’m sorry.” Hyrule spoke quietly, voice cracking slightly. He shouldn’t be crying here, there could be more monsters near, but Legend’s embrace was warm in a way Hyrule wasn’t used to, but loved all the same.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Legend refuted strongly. Hyrule shook his head.

“You’re all in danger here. What if the rest are in danger-” Hyrule’s voice cut off again with another small sob. He needed to get himself together.

“We’re in danger in every Hyrule.” Legend stated dryly, and Hyrule almost laughed. He just wanted to laugh this off and continue on, but not telling Legend could prove dangerous for them.

“They need my blood. My blood is the key to Ganon’s return.” Hyrule burrowed further into Legend’s embrace further before he was inevitably shoved away. No one wanted him, he was dangerous and people somehow knew. They always knew. He just wanted more of this before it happened. This was nice.

Legend was honestly a little shocked. He had heard of sacrifices being made in the name of Ganon, but he had never heard that he required the sacrifice of the hero to resurrect him. Hylia, is that why Hyrule lived in a cave? Anger boiled within him. Would he ever be free of monsters coming for his blood? You know what, fuck Hylia. If she would try to make Hyrule go back to his Hyrule when this was all over, alone, only to deal with this for the rest of his life… Legend would punch her straight in the holy face for all he cared. He could come back to Legend’s Hyrule with him or something. Maybe he could go to Wild’s Hyrule, those two seemed to enjoy each other’s company. Fuck the timeline. They’d figure it out whether Hylia liked it or not. But that was a future problem.

“Damn, Kid. That sucks.” Legend was screaming at himself. ‘That sucks’? What the hell was wrong with him? Thankfully Hyrule giggled a little, making Legend relax a little. “Don’t apologize for something that’s out of your control. It’s not your fault some psychotic monsters are after you. You’re a part of a group now, we got your back. Ya know, as soon as we find them.” Legend finished awkwardly. Hyrule nodded into his shoulder, his grip still tight. He didn’t seem to want to let go, and Legend wanted to be any source of comfort he could, but they had to make it to the nearest town before dark. Hopefully the others would be there.

“Thanks Legend. Please don’t tell the others yet?” Maybe he was being selfish asking that of Legend, but he wanted to tell them when they were in a different Hyrule. It seemed less real that way.

“No problem kid.” Legend smirked as Hyrule pulled back, cheeks flushed red from embarrassment at how much he had lost himself.

“Umm… Sorry.” Hyrule stuttered out while looking at Legend’s tunic. Legend looked down to his slightly wet and blood stained tunic and scoffed.

“Like there haven't been worse things I’ve had to wash out.” Legend rolled his eyes and Hyrule shoved him lightly.

“Thanks again, Legend.” Hyrule rubbed the back of his neck. Legend playfully punched his shoulder.

“No problem ‘Rule.” Legend pretended not to notice as Hyrule beamed at the simple nickname. “Let’s find those other jackasses shall we?” Legend joked as Hyrule led him to the nearest town. If Hyrule noticed Legend’s hand on his sword more often, he didn't call him out on it.

#hyrule #legend #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu #hurt/comfort #fluff #soft legend #request #prompt #golden blood #queenof-literature story #QoL Story

[flamencodiva]

Getting Back to You 11 - Hustling and Nightcaps

Description: Amaya Campos and Dean Winchester had a playful rivalry. what happens when Dean is no longer her Dean. Will this change make one of them realize what they really desire, or will they continue to keep secrets?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Amaya Campos (Original Female Character) , AU Dean Winchester x AU Amaya Campos

Warnings: Language, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Word Count For Series: 100K+ words

Beta: @superfanficnatural​ and @emoryhemsworth​​​ and @jensengirl83​​

Book Cover by @talesmaniac89​

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

A/N: Special thanks to - @crashdevlin​ @atc74​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @winchest09​ @waywardbeanie​ @deanwanddamons​ @malfoysqueen14​  @emoryhemsworth​ @janicho88​ @jensengirl83​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @katehuntington​ @anathewierdo​  and to all my friends who listen to me ramble about my writing. your words of encouragement mean the world to me! Without you I don’t think I could have found the courage to come back and share what I love most to do, WRITE.

Getting Back To You Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Amaya tossed and turned as the night went on. There was something nagging her in the back of her mind. By now, Dean would be groaning in his sleep, or at least snoring. But there was a deafening silence that just seemed out of place. Running a hand across her face she sat up and looked around the motel room. 

There sitting in the kitchenette, was Dean. A bottle of beer in his hand, a far away look on his face. It was a look Amaya rarely got to see in her Dean. Throwing the covers off, she got off the bed and walked over towards him. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” she whispered. 

She chuckled when Dean jumped a bit. He was deep in thought when she had approached him. She could see his Adam's apple bob as he took in a soft swallow. 

He gave her a small smile before he cleared his throat, “I dunno… just felt kinda anxious, you know?” 

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Amaya sighed. “It’s weird not having to hear Dean toss and turn or snore sometimes.” 

“He snores?” Dean snorted. “I shouldn’t laugh… Amaya would pinch my nose from time to time if I snored. But I’m worried about her and her nightmares.” 

“She gets nightmares? About what?” Amaya asked. “If you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all,” Dean assured her. “Being abandoned, or people not wanting her. Her dad left her at the academy back home. She always kept mostly to herself.” he took a sip of the beer he was drinking. “I kept trying to be her friend. I started out being this… cocky, know it all, until she knocked me on my ass a few hundred times.” he chuckled at the memory. 

“Sounds like Dean and me,” Amaya gave him  a thin line smile. “He was this tough, cocky dick. And I found ways to knock him down a peg or two.” she chuckled. “This one time, we were at a party in high school out in the woods.” she closed her eyes at the memory. “I was seeing this guy at the time. One of those, just passing by flings.” she shook her head. “Well, needles to say, Dean used a scar from when he had to save me from a ghost. Lady decided to use her cutlery as weapons and she was gunning for me.” 

“What did he do exactly?” Dean raised an eyebrow. 

“Mind you, I saw this from afar and I thought he was trying to show off how macho he was.” she shook her head. “So I go up to the guy and wrap my arms around him and he just gives me this look of disgust.” she sighed. “He starts calling me every name in the book and saying I’m insane for stabbing my ex when he did nothing and I was confused as hell.” 

Dean watched as she paused to take a gulp from the beer bottle. When she was done, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose before continuing. 

“I walked up to him and whatever slut he was flirting with, grabbed him by his neck, and said in his ear, ‘Since I’m your crazy ex, guess it’s okay for me to act like it!’ So I pulled him away from blondie and dragged him away from the party and just laid him out on the ground in an arm bar. Almost snapped his shoulder until Sam pulled me off.” 

“Why am I an ass in this world?” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Honestly, I mean, what is the point of doing that?” 

“Defense mechanism,” Amaya sighed. “I mean, I’m not going to deny it. I fell for him.” she let out a laugh. “It’s cruel that I would fall for him when he doesn’t love me back.” 

“You don’t--” 

“I do,” Amaya whispered sadly. “If he did. If he really did, he would say fuck it, grow some balls and be with me. But no matter how much I’m there for him in every way… even as just a warm body,” she chugged the last bit of her beer and hissed. “I have to face the facts. I need to move on. If I don’t, I’m only going to hurt myself.” 

Dean stayed silent as her words sunk in. He still couldn’t grasp the severity of what this version of himself went through. 

“I always tried to convince Amaya I wasn’t going anywhere.” Dean whispered. “She seemed to think that when I first asked her out that it was some prank orchestrated by the other huntresses.” Dean chuckled. “I would spar with her and she would just lay me flat time and time again and I would look up at her and say, ‘see, you keep knocking me off my feet. Would you just go out with me, already?’ And she would call me a jackass and just walk away.”  

“So what made her finally give in?” Amaya asked with a smile. 

She could tell that Dean loved his Amaya. The way his eyes shined at the mere mention of her. When he said her name, he would smile. 

“I killed the vamp that decided to take a bite of her.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he played with the label on the beer bottle. “She lost some blood, I took her back to our hotel and stitched her up. I stayed up all night just making sure she was okay.” He grabbed the beer and began to chug its contents. “Next morning, she woke me up from drooling on her arm. Called me an idiot, said thanks and kissed me out of nowhere.” 

Amaya watched as the corners of his lips curled up into a soft smile. But she knew he was feeling sad, feeling homesick. 

“After that kiss, I took her out on a real date and we dated for about five years before I popped the question.” He let out a laugh. “I should have married her after I almost died. But we have this tradition that--” he paused to take a drink. “It seems stupid, but it is practical. There is a ceremony that is supposed to ‘protect’ the newly weds.” he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I should have just married her and done the ceremony at a later time. I shouldn’t have listened to my mother at the time and now look… and… and…” 

“Dean?” Amaya sat up as she saw something she rarely saw Dean do, cry. 

The last time she saw Dean, her Dean, look as broken as he was before her was when he had been dragged out of hell. She watched as he clenched his jaw, her heart jumped slightly at the look. The clenched jaw, the way he tried to swallow the guilt.  

“What happened in your world?” Amaya whispered. 

“I was grading papers at the academy,” he took in a shaky breath. “There was a knock on the door and Lisa Braden walked in.” he let out a scoff and sneered. “She kept digging at how Amaya and I hadn’t gotten married. Wedding is set for next week,” he grabbed the beer and finished it off before standing up to open up another. “I was an idiot getting out from behind my desk. But I wanted to seem busy. I also needed to write some things on the board but… besides the point.” 

He opened the bottle and chugged as much as he could before clenching his fist. Walking back to the table, he knocked on it slightly before slumping onto the chair. 

 “Next thing I know she’s kissing me and I want to pull away but… something strange happens.” he closed his eyes trying to stop his eyes from crying but a single tear escapes. “But…” he grit his teeth and turned his head. “Something was wrong. My heart was screaming it’s not Amaya, but my head… in my head it was her. I could almost feel her and then… I opened my eyes and it was her… I swear for a moment, Amaya was in front of me and not Lisa.” 

“And that’s when the other version of me walked in. I’m guessing.” Amaya muttered and finished her second beer. 

“She called off the wedding, too,” He let out a frustrated laugh. “I need to get back. I need to marry her next week.” 

“Okay,” was all Amaya said. “Since we can’t sleep, might as well get dressed and entertain ourselves.” 

“By doing what?” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Salsa dancing?” 

“We hustle pool,” Amaya said matter of factly.  

Dean sighed as he slept on the hotel bed. 

He could feel her in his arms. The smell of her lavender shampoo filled his senses as he felt her fingers brush against his skin. 

“Maya,” He whispered as her lips brushed his. “You know we shouldn’t be doing this?” 

“You chicken, Winchester?” she said with a teasing smile. “You know there is no turning back from this.” 

“Hey, you’re the one that said yes,” He chuckled. “Just want to make sure you aren’t backing out now.” 

“We’re getting married in the morning and we’re breaking the number one rule,” Amaya giggled. 

“Since when do Winchester’s play by the rules?” he reminded her. “Besides,” he kissed along her neck and collar bone. “Need one last run as singles before the big day tomorrow.” 

“Perv,” She slapped at his arm but giggled anyway. 

The sound made him smile to the point his cheeks were hurting. Next thing he knew, he watched her walk down the aisle. She wore a corset style top with a fitted and flared skirt. She was glowing as she walked down the white carpet they had decided on. With Cas standing in as their officiant.  Dan smiled at Amaya as she smiled back. The scene moved quickly until Cas asked the important question. 

“Do you, Dean Winchester,” Cas breathed with a smile. “Finally take Amaya Campos as your wife? Mostly because this wedding is illegal since you are both technically considered dead.” 

Dean let out a laugh and smiled at Amaya, “I do.” 

“Do you, Amaya,” Cas sighed. “Do the same thing I asked but with Dean?” 

“I--” 

“Maya?” Dean whispered as blood began to seep out of the corner of Amaya’s mouth. “No.” 

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” 

The voice sent a shiver down Dean's spine as an arm wrapped around Amaya pulling her away from him as he felt something restraining him. All around his arms and legs were hooks sinking into his skin. 

“Alastair,” Dean growled as the Demon pulled Amaya towards him, her back to his chest as he held a knife over her belly. “Let her go!” 

“You didn’t really think you actually left my rack, did you?” Alastair ran his knife along Amaya’s cheek as she whimpered. “She whimpers so nice, Dean. I mean, that is very sweet. I love it when they squeal.” He plunged the blade into Amaya’s abdomen. 

“NO!” Dean screamed and cried when he pulled on the hooks that dug into him. “MAYA!” 

All he could do was watch as Alastair dragged the blade along her belly, slicing her open. Her white dress now stained red with her blood as it began to pool on the floor. Dean closed his eyes only to feel a slap on his face. 

“No, no, no, Dean,” Alastair said with a laugh. “Open your eyes and look at what you brought on her.” he pulled on his hair. “Look at what loving her did. This is why you can never love anyone.” Alastair hissed in his ear. “You’re poison. You bring nothing but death to the people you love. And she is only your latest casualty.” 

“Maya,” Dean whimpered as the tears rolled down his face. “MAYA!” he screamed as her cold dead eyes stared right back at him. 

Dean’s eyes flashed open as he sat up on the bed. Sweat dripped down his face as he took in deep breaths to try and calm down. He hated when he dreamed. That was the worst one yet. It wasn't the only one that had featured Alastair, but it was the goriest one. 

“Bad dream?” a voice called from across the room. 

“Not really,” Dean took a deep breath through his nose. “Bed isn’t all that comfortable for dreaming.” 

Amaya let out a snort as she held her glass to her lips, “Yeah, okay. “ 

“What about you?” Dean pointed out. “You get up to have a nightcap often?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she grumbled. “Want some?” 

Dean smiled as he saw the whiskey bottle. Walking over towards the table, he pulled out the chair and sat down. Grabbing the bottle, he poured himself around two fingers full. The familiar burn in his throat gave him a small bit of satisfaction. 

“So…” Dean clicked his tongue. “Why are you running from love? See me, I know why I’m running. I’m poison. Anything I love, anything I touch, will die.” he admitted. “From what you told me about how you grew up here, I think you’re running from something.” 

“Am not,” Amaya snorted. 

From the look of the bottle, Dean surmised she was already slightly drunk. 

“He was just going to leave anyways,” she snorted. “It’s why my father abandoned me. Last-- las’ thin’ he said was that I am going to end up alone.” 

“What?” Dean raised an eyebrow at her. “Omar said you were destined to be alone? Come on!” 

“He did!” Amaya exclaimed. “He-- he never contacted me again. And I was always alone. I mean… the girls all hated me because I was good at everything and I caught Dean’s attention.” she let out another snort. “Me.. golden boy had his eyes on me. I always thought it was a cosmic joke.” 

“So,” Dean finished his whiskey and poured himself some more. “Let me get this straight. You are running from Dean because he is eventually going to leave you because you feel you’re cursed to be abandoned?” Dean let out a scoff. “Sweetheart, if he ever did that then he isn't anything like me.” 

“He isn’t. But he did. He kissed Lisa. I don't care if a spell was behind it. He kissed her. He wrapped his arms around her and…” she sniffled a bit. “After everything I heard, what the other female hunters were saying�� they said it served me right. That I was too cold for the Knight of Hunters.” 

“Is that what they call him?” Dean smirked. 

“More like what he was to me. He saved me in terms of being alone…” she admitted. “He never gave up on me, though.”  She said sadly. “He just kept pushing and pushing. I kept knocking him down and knocking him down. Until we were on assignment together. It was a vamps nest.” she seemed to smile at the memory. 

“What, did you save his ass?” Dean chuckled. 

It seemed to be the pattern with them. She would kick this version of himself in the ass, while he just tried to show her that she was not worthless. A part of him knew that if Amaya ever felt that way in his world, he always tried to make her feel wanted. At least until he felt he was getting too close. Then he cut it to the quick and distanced himself. 

“Actually,” she paused and finished her drink before reaching for the bottle to pour herself some more. “He saved me. I was too cocky for my own good and I didn’t realize I had missed one.” she recalled. “I had my back turned and it chomped on me from behind. Dean jumped in and killed it just in time.”  

“Funny,” Dean let out a small huff. “Opposite happened to me and Maya. I had my back turned and she saved my ass. Not the first time either.” he admitted. “I--” he slammed back the rest of his whiskey before grabbing more. “She’s my best friend. I’m sure she knows that, deep down. But… I always seemed to push her buttons and--” he took a sip and hissed as the amber liquid flowed down his throat. 

“You love her,” Amaya whispered. 

“What?” Dean let out a high pitched sound. “No. I mean I… She’s my friend so I care about her but I don’t love her like THAT.” 

“Your lips are lying, but your eyes,” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’ve seen that look. It’s the look Dean would give me. Or rather, still gives me. Even before this whole thing happened. When I was packing my things and he tried to stop me. I could tell. He--” she wiped the stray tear that had started to fall. “He was hurt that I would leave. But his eyes still showed love in them.” 

“Yeah? And how do you know that I feel the same way about my Maya? Huh?” he grumbled. “You don’t know--” 

“Because you look at me the same way,” her brown eyes met his green ones.

Dean could feel a small sense of familiarity at the way her eyes stared into him. He noticed the emotion, she was sad. She missed her Dean, even though she was pushing him away, running from him. She missed him. And as much as he hated to admit it, he missed his Amaya. 

 “When we first met,” she interrupted his thoughts and licked her lips. “You had this… look in them. You were guilty about something. But they flashed with a hint of longing, if that makes sense.” 

Dean stayed silent as her words washed over him. Damn her for being just as observant as he was. Fucking bitch had figured him out in just days of knowing him. Clenching his jaw, he gave her a hard glare before leaning towards her. 

“You know nothing about me, sweetheart,” he huffed. “IF I were to even think of Amaya like that, which I’m not saying I am, she’s as good as dead in my arms. Because that’s how they all end up.” He continued to hold her gaze as he spoke. “Every single relationship I had, everyone I ever cared about ended up hurt or dead. Hell, I had to have an angel erase the memory of a woman I spent a year with, helping her raise her son, after she got captured by demons. So let’s get this thing straightened out. I do NOT love Maya in that way. All we are is fuck buddies. Understand?” 

Amaya raised her hands in defeat, “Okay. I get it. But remember this. You’re running away just like I am. I don’t judge you, if you don’t judge me.” 

“Deal,” Dean huffed. “Know a good place to hustle pool?” 

Amaya gave him a devilish smirk, “You know how to hustle pool? You’re yanking my chain.” 

Dean let out a chuckle, “Sweetheart, I’ve been hustling pool since I was in diapers.” 

In the pool hall, Dean fidgeted nervously. The way Amaya walked around the pool table made him nervous. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to play pool, he did. He just wasn’t good at hustling. He watched as Amaya walked up to him carrying the pool cue in one hand and a glass of whiskey in another. 

"You need to relax," she whispered in his ear.

Her breath sent a shiver down his spine.

"I can't… this is… my Amaya was better at this than I was." He whispered back. "I was the one she would play against and lose." 

Amaya tilted her head to the side in thought, “Okay, let’s play one game and let me see what you’re all about.” 

Dean simply nodded as he moved to the side and let her rack up the balls. He watched as Amaya studied the table with a smirk. He recognized that look, it was a look of strategy. She was measuring all the angles she could use. Next thing he knew, she hit the cue ball and the game began. He was only able to sink in a few solid balls as she sunk stripe after stripe. The one thing he noticed was that, while she was measuring for trick shots, she never used any. In fact, she had missed a few on purpose with a smirk. 

“What are you doing?” he whispered to her. He made himself seem as though he was flirting with her. 

“Trying to catch a big one,” she breathed back, using her eyes to point at a few men that were watching. 

“You know,” Dean raised his voice as he gave her a wink. “You’re pretty good at this, mama.” 

“Yeah,” she let out a giggle. “What makes you say that?” 

“You wiped the floor with me.” Dean walked around the table as they finished their game. 

“Hey toots!” one of the men who was observing them called out. “Why don’t you play with a real man?” 

“Call me when you find one,” Amaya sassed with a smile. 

“You give me your number, and I’ll give you mine.” the man had walked up to the table and leaned over it shooting her a wink. 

With a small glance at Dean who nodded, she flashed the man a smirk. 

“Rack ‘em up,” she walked over towards him and ran her index finger along his cheek, trailing down his jaw, and towards his chest. “Big boy.” 

Amaya could smell him a mile away. This man thought she would be an easy target, so she decided to play it up. She was thankful for the off shoulder black tube top she was wearing. It squeezed her breasts just right, giving off a large amount of cleavage. As she leaned over the table, she made sure to give Mr. Cocky a good view of her own rack while pushing her ass out in her skin tight jeans. Her hair in a neat braid as she moved around the table, sinking in shot after shot. 

“Eight ball,” she called lazily. “Corner pocket.” 

Dean watched as she sunk it with ease while the gorilla who was watching her grabbed his cue so tight, his knuckles were turning white. 

“Beginners luck,” he grumbled as he set down the five hundred dollars they bet on the table. 

Amaya gave him a sweet purr as she let her fingers brush along his arm. 

“Want to double or nothing?” She whispered. “I mean, this was my first, real, game.” she brought her face dangerously close to gorilla’s. “What do you have to lose?” 

It wasn’t long before Amaya and Dean were walking out of the pool hall. Amaya hummed happily as she counted off the money they made. 

“Four thousand dollars!” she sighed contently as they climbed into the Impala. “Oh man, Dean would have flipped if we ever got this much in one night! This was a lucky night.” 

“I guess it was.” Dean chuckled. 

The smile on Amaya’s face made him both happy and sad. Sad that he wasn’t with his version of her, but happy that he could make any version of her smile. Without even thinking, he reached over and placed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek as he pulled his hand back. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I... um…” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “We should try and go back and get some sleep. Got a long drive to make.” 

“Yeah,” Amaya whispered. 

There were days that she wished Dean would look at her the way this alternate version was looking at her. Weeks that she would dream about even the gentlest touches coming from him. Closing her eyes she shook away the feeling and swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“We should get back and try to sleep.” she echoed, refusing to look at him. 

The drive to the motel was filled with silence as they undressed and got comfortable before settling in and letting sleep over take them. 

Dean and Amaya were back on the road. To say that sleep did not come easy was an understatement. Despite the fact that Amaya insisted on them drinking whiskey to help, it did nothing but fill both of them with dreams of longing. Each of them dreamed of being with the right versions of the people they loved only to be disturbed when the light of the sun woke them.  

“You okay over there?” He asked as they barreled down the road. 

“Yeah, fine.” She brushed him off.  She had grabbed her phone and began dialling Sam. “Please tell me you have more information on what’s going on?” she sighed. 

Dean focused on the road as he heard her talking to Sam. In the middle of the ‘uh-huh’ and ‘yeah that sounds like it’, Dean had a thought. 

“Can you ask him if it has anything to do with Hecate?” 

The question left his lips and he could feel Amaya’s eyes on him. 

“Did you just say Hecate? As in Goddess of Magic and Witchcraft?” Amaya said. In that instance she let out a groan. “When the fuck were you going to tell me you guys were messing with Witches of Hecate, Winchester?” she yelled into the phone. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Sam! You are dealing with a Greek Goddess and not just any Greek Goddess I might add!” 

Dean sighed, he thought back to what Hecate said in his universe. He said that it was nothing against him, but at the same time maybe it was his fault. Back in his world, it didn’t matter if Witches were white or dark. A Witch was a Witch and they had to die. 

“I think that would be my world’s fault.” Dean rubbed at his eyes as he pulled the car over.  

“Hold on, Sam,” Amaya sighed as she turned to Dean. “What do you mean?” 

“In… In my world, a Witch is a Witch.” He explained. “So when someone is caught, we either imprison them or…” he trailed off. 

“So,” Amaya pinched the bridge of her nose. Pulling the phone away from her ear she pressed the speaker button. “Okay, let me get this straight. You guys felt that no matter what kind of magic was used, a Witch was always evil?” 

Sam let out an audible groan. “And now she’s trying to get revenge. But why target our Dean?” 

“He hates Witches Sam… He’s an easy target.” Amaya huffed. “Of course put him in a world where his ‘all witches are bad’ motto will make him happy.” 

Dean let out a groan and placed his forehead on the steering wheel. “This is all kinds of fucked up. I just want to go home!” he whined. 

“This isn’t a picnic for us either, pal,” Amaya grumbled. “I want grumpy back. I hate to admit it, but the faster we get him back the faster I can go off on my own.” 

“Maya,” Sam’s voice came in. “you know that he--” 

“Save it, Sam,” Amaya hissed. “He’s been pulling this shit since I can remember. So no, I won’t stick around when he comes home. Besides, Jason is meeting us in Salem.” 

“What?!” Sam and Dean both echoed. 

“Just... let’s keep driving. We’re wasting time! Not to mention we need to do some investigating when we get there, if Jason hasn’t started already.” 

Dean started the car back up and continued the drive, pushing the Impala as fast as he could.

Dean let out a laugh as Amaya finished wiping the floor with another sucker. They had decided to split up and make it a small competition to see who could win the most money. Only after Dean had proven it to her that he could play. He had a difficult shot to make, and with a smirk, made the cue ball jump over one of the balls in his way to sink the eight ball in. At the time, they were the only ones at the pool table. 

Amaya had found a small pool hall that was just empty enough to test his skill before the patrons filtered in. Drinks were flowing and laughter filtered through. The groans of disappointment echoed as both Dean and Amaya’s tables were filled with onlookers. 

“You know,” Dean heard one of the men say to Amaya as she bent over the table. “Why don’t you come back with me and I can sink some balls in some holes for you?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched as Amaya pulled the cue back quickly hitting the man in his solar plexus. 

“Oh,” she cooed. “I’m sorry, amor. I only let certain balls sink into particular holes.” with that she lined up her shot and sunk in the eight ball. “I believe the stakes were triple, right?” 

Before he knew it, between the two of them they made a good eight thousand dollars. Dean gave a low whistle as they counted up the money, Amaya giving him his four while she kept hers. 

“I call that the best night I’ve ever had,” he chuckled. “We need to play pool more. Could probably clean house.”   

“Yeah,” Amaya sighed as she leaned up against the Impala. “You are really good. You weren’t kidding when you said you’ve played since you were young.” 

“Told ya,” he shot her a cocky smile. “I take it we should get some sleep while we can.” he cleared his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. 

By now, he and Amaya would have gone back to the motel, drank some whiskey, and ended up in bed together. Mostly with Dean giving her gentle touches as she slept. Mostly because he couldn’t do it while she was awake. He would never admit to having a few secrets of admitting he loved her to himself. But damn it if he didn’t miss her.  And damn it if thinking about her didn’t give him the biggest hard on in his life. And here in front of him was her doppelganger. Dressed in a crop top band tee, tight jeans, leather jacket, and biker boots. Her hair flowed around her with a smile that reminded him of what his heart wanted.  

“Yeah we should,” she agreed, clearing her throat. “I take it, you had to hustle to survive.” 

 Dean reached over and grazed his thumb along her lips before recoiling it back as if touching her burned him. 

“Sorry,” he rasped. “You had a smudge and I-- I just…” 

“It’s fine,” Amaya whispered. “How about we celebrate with some more whiskey?” 

“That sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” Dean said as he smiled. “I could get used to that.” 

The drive back to the hotel, with a pit stop at a liquor store, resulted in good music, crude jokes, and stumbling into the hotel room. 

“So… so, we barge into this coven that’s out in a cabin and… Dean and I have to turn away because they were--” she paused to take a drink from the bottle as they sat on the floor, before passing it back to Dean. “They were worshiping in skyclad. And we had walked in on their orgy. It was butts and tits, and penises everywhere!” 

“That must have been one messy massacre,” Dean grumbled. 

“Why do you say it like that?” Amaya frowned at him. 

“Were they Wiccan’s or witches?” Dean tried to clarify. 

“Witches are witches, nothing more and nothing less.” Amaya gave him a slight glare. “Magic is dangerous, no matter what it’s used for.” 

“And yet,” Dean took a gulp from the bottle hissing as the liquid gave him a slight burn. “The incantations we use to send demons back, the key of Solomon, incantations to beef up weapons, or puzzle boxes,” Dean listed off. “That’s all magic.” 

“Are you sympathetic to witches?” Amaya asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck no,” Dean chuckled. “I hate hags as much as the next hunter. But… not all witches go darkside. There are white witches, and witches who work with gods. I mean probably not THE God, but Greek gods? Definitely.” 

“What is your point,” Amaya drawled. “Monsters are monsters, Dean. They are almost all under control here that we hardly have any cases to filter through.”  

“Just,” Dean ran a hand across his face. “Not all monsters are evil. Some of them, if not all of them, were human at some point or another in their lives. And they learn to live quietly.” 

 Amaya pressed her lips into a thin line. She had seen it before, monsters who had families and were living off the blood of livestock. Witches who never harmed anyone, but were still on the list because of a spike in magical energy that scared the council. 

“I guess Hecate lied about it not being our fault,” she hissed. 

“Hecate? You mean, long skinny, black eyes with silver specs in them Goddess of witches?” Dean asked. “THAT Hecate?” 

“Not as dumb as you look,” Amaya sighed. “Yes, that Hecate. We had captured her followers and one of them had invoked her. Nearly destroyed the bunker. That was the day Eileen told me I couldn’t have kids. I was almost crushed to death.” 

Dean stayed silent as her story sunk in. 

“Well then, guess whoever these witches are in Salem,” he groaned as he got up off the floor and held out his hand to her. “We’re going to have to ask them how we put things right.” 

As Amaya held onto his hand to get up, Dean pulled her a little too hard. She tumbled forward and almost fell, but Dean moved quickly to pull her toward his body. His arms wrapped around her as her hands pressed on his chest. They both froze as they stared into each other's eyes. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat looking at the woman in his arms. The familiar scent of Lavender mixed with gunpowder and... something else. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. 

“You uh,” Dean whispered and offered her a smile. “There’s something to your smell, I can smell gunpowder, Lavender, but there is something else. I can’t pinpoint it.”  

“Jasmine,” she answered. “It’s a lavender shampoo with a jasmine body wash. The gunpowder is obvious.”   

She dared to look into his green eyes. Eyes that were full of pain, and loss. Eyes that were of a stranger and yet, at the same time were familiar. His own scent hit her own senses. Gunpowder, leather, and whiskey. The leather was unfamiliar. She guessed, from the story he shared earlier, was from sleeping in the Impala for most of his life. 

The two of them stood in the center of the hotel room. Neither of them moved away. The deafening silence surrounded them as their hearts pounded in their chests. Dean was the first to break the trance as he cleared his throat and moved away. 

“We should…” he trailed off and pointed to the beds. 

“Right,” Amaya agreed. “We should get some rest. We have a bit of a drive.” 

“Yeah,” Dean said as he turned away and began stripping his clothes to get comfortable while Amaya did the same. 

“Night, roughneck.” she muttered once she was nestled between the sheets.

“Yeah, night, Ice Queen,” Dean huffed with a smile as he settled into the bed. 

Both of them layed in bed until sleep was able to consume them. The nightmares still played, but they didn’t dare to move as the night went on. By the next morning, the car ride was filled with the sounds of classic rock as they made their way to Salem. Being used to driving long distances on little sleep, Dean was able to convince Amaya to let it happen. It worked out in the end as they were able to make it just as the sun began to set. 

“Take this next exit and drive to The Merchant Hotel,” Amaya instructed. “Unfortunately I had to book us a king suit. The Lark.” 

Following Amaya’s directions, Dean found the hotel and parked the car as close as he could. Settling into their room, Dean pushed a few chairs together. 

Amaya bit her lip, “You know… we can share the bed.” she sighed. “It’s big enough for both of us and… I can ask for extra pillows.” 

Dean hated to admit it, but the bed did look inviting. And even though this Amaya wasn’t his, he couldn’t help but feel that pull towards her. 

“No, I’m good. I can sleep on that corner there where that bench seat is up against the wall. You can have the bed.” Dean cleared his throat. “Besides, I can’t stand cover hogs. And the way you hogged the covers at the last hotel makes me think I’m going to freeze to death in this room.” 

“Fine, jackass,” Amaya grumbled as she grabbed a few pillows and threw them at him. “I’m going to head down to the bar.” 

Before Dean could stop her she was already out the door. Running a hand across his face he let out a frustrated groan and continued to arrange the small couch so that he could sleep when he was ready. Once it was adjusted to how he wanted it, he made sure he had his wallet before following Amaya out of the room and down to find the bar. What he didn’t expect to find was Amaya hanging off the arm of a man dressed in a sharp suit, and perfectly combed hair. 

“Dean, ole chap! How have you been?” The man smiled as he walked up to Dean and shook his hand. 

“I’ve been great, uh…” Dean looked at Amaya for help. 

“Ketch,” Amaya interrupted. “Your drink is ready at the bar.” 

“We should catch up over a night cap and a cigar,” Ketch said as he made his way to the bar leaving Amaya and Dean alone for a moment. 

“That is Ketch,” Amaya sighed. “I guess British base sent him to make sure London is really what I want.” 

“He seems like a douche,” Dean snorted. “Is it what you really want?” Dean asked. 

“Ketch?” Amaya asked, confused. 

“No, London, is it what you really want? Or are you using it as an excuse to run away and never see Dean again?” Dean breathed. 

“It’s none of your business, roughneck,” she sneered. “Just don't get in the way of this hunt. Our research team worked very hard for this for some highschool drop-out to ruin it.” 

“And the Ice Queen makes her appearance,” Dean scoffed. 

“And the roughneck is just as surly as ever,” Amaya hissed. 

“Amaya, mi amor. ¿Cómo le ha ido?” Ketch smiled as he looked between Dean and Amaya. (Amaya, my love. How have you been?). 

Before Dean knew what was happening, the conversation between Ketch and Amaya turned into a rapid fire of Spanish. Nothing coming out of their mouths was slow enough for him to understand. Next thing he knew he caught the words, ‘estupido’ and Amaya glancing at him. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart,” Dean growled in her ear. 

 “Dean you look ragged, ole chap.” Ketch slapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry that you and Amaya won't be tying the knot though.” 

“Still have a week left Ketchy boy,” Dean said through gritted teeth as he shrugged Ketch off. “But you had a long flight, from merry ole England, right?” 

“Not too bad,” Ketch picked at his nails. “But I was able to sleep on the flight.” he leaned in towards Dean. “Give it up ole boy. You took her from me once, I won’t let it happen again. You messed up and are paying the price. She’s mine.” 

“I love how you're an opportunist, Ketch,” Dean eyed him up and down. “But I won the girl. She has my ring on her finger. And if I have to drag her down that aisle, I will!”

Dean was shocked by the words that came out of his mouth. He was supposed to be going home. But here was this sleazy guy, eying Amaya like a steak dinner. He was the only guy, in any universe, allowed to do that.

Amaya sighed as she flopped down on her bed at the Clipper Ship Inn. In truth, it was probably a lot nicer than some of the motels they had ever stayed in, but it still had the motel feeling. Dean had gone off to grab some supplies as she began researching. She had tied up her hair in a messy bun as she always did when working. But there was something in the crime pictures that she had pulled up thanks to Sam’s hacking.

There, at one of the crime scenes, was the symbol of Hecate. The symbol was a five pointed star with a circle that had almost a maze-like pattern to it. Amaya tilted her head as she studied the crime scene photo. There was something else to the symbol, something that didn’t quite fit. Grabbing her phone she began to dial Sam’s number. 

“Hey Sam, I have a question for you,” She breathed just as Dean walked into the room with a bag of fast food. 

‘Uh, yeah, what’s your question?’ Sam tried to stifle his yawn. 

“Did you get any sleep?” Amaya asked softly. 

‘I’m fine, Cas says he’s going to do some digging up in heaven for something. Maybe there is a way to track Dean’s soul since it’s a part of our universe and not the other Dean’s.’  He let out a small huff. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Amaya sighed. “Look Sam, about what I said… before I left, I’m--”

‘I know, Maya. You don’t have to say it. You’re in a bad place, we all are and we just want our Dean back.’ 

“As grumpy as he is, yeah. He owes me a Macarena,” Maya tried to lighten the mood. 

‘Yeah he does,’ Sam let out a small chuckle. ‘Just, be careful out there, okay? Don’t lose your head.’  

“Unless I’m dealing with the Queen of Hearts, I don’t plan to. Should get back to strategizing. We’ll start with the police station tomorrow once we get all the info we can get out of what you hacked for us.” 

Amaya never noticed Dean looking at the screen from over her shoulder. He had begun eating his grilled chicken salad. As he took a forkful into his mouth he tilted his head and put his food down next to her. Reaching over her, he zoomed in on the symbols and tapped on Amaya’s shoulder. 

“Put him on speaker,” he commanded as he grabbed a paper and a pen and began writing down notes furiously. 

“Um… Sam, I’m going to put you on speaker.” Amaya said. Her tone was full of confusion on what Dean was doing. 

‘Okay, is there something wrong with the research?’ Sam asked as the sounds of computer keys clacking came from the speaker. 

“No, no. It’s good work. I just need some books from the archive.” Dean pushed the paper towards Amaya so she could look. “If you can find a way to send us digital copies of the pages I need that would actually help.” 

‘What do you need ?’ Sam asked. 

“Okay, going to need Scriptura Deorum. It should be on the third shelf, third bookshelf.” Dean recited. “Then from the fifth bookshelf I need, Signum Deos. Next, you are going to the opposite side, bookshelf number ten, top shelf, Runes Anam. Last book might need to get back to us. It’s in the dungeon room. The title is called Siombail Anamacha.” 

‘Okay, let me repeat the titles, you want, Scriptura Deorum. Bible of the Gods. Then you want Signum Deos, Symbols of Gods. Then Runes Anam, Soul Runes, and Siombail Anamacha, Symbols of Souls?’ Sam sounded surprised. 

“That’s what I said.” Dean chuckled. “Omnia facere volo ire in domum suam.” 

‘Yeah, Dean. We know you want to go home.’ Sam translated and sighed. ‘Fucking weird hearing perfect Latin from you.’ Sam muttered. 

“I think that’s everything, Sam. Just let me know if we have anything archived that I can look at digitally.” Amaya said as she rubbed her temples.  “Necesito un trago fuerte.” 

(I need a fucking drink.) 

“¿Qué tipo de bebida quieres, cariño?” Dean gave her a devilish smirk. (what kind of drink do you want, sweetheart? )

“Can you stop that, please!” Amaya looked away from him.

“ No, no voy a dejar de ser quien soy solo porque te incomoda!” Dean exclaimed as he looked at Amaya. “Puedo hablar español, latín, japonés, ruso. Puedo seguir y hacerte girar la cabeza. Entonces, no, no dejaré de hablar los muchos idiomas que conozco sólo porque su amigo emocionalmente carenciado con beneficios no puede.” ( No, I will not stop being who I am just because it bothers you! I can speak Spanish, Latin, Japanese, Russian. I can go on and turn your head. So, no, I won't stop speaking the many languages ​​I know just because your emotionally lacking friend with benefits can't.)

“Sabes que? Te puedes ir a casa carajo!” She got up from her seat and poked at his chest. “no tienes derecho a quedarte allí y juzgarme o lo que tuve con MI Dean.” she seethed, her eyes burning with anger. “Podemos ser amigos con beneficios, pero todo terminará de todos modos.” She reminded him. “Una vez que te devolvamos a donde perteneces, no tengo que pensar en cómo tú y tu Amaya tienen una relación perfecta o un matrimonio perfecto o --” 

(you don't have the right to stand there and judge me or what I had with MY Dean. we may be friends with benefits but it's all going to end anyways. once we put you back where you belong I don't have to think about how you and your Amaya have a perfect relationship or a perfect marriage or--)

Before she could keep going, a knock interrupted her. Raising her eyebrow at Dean who simply shrugged, she grabbed her Colt M11911A1 with a custom lavender handle that Dean had gifted her for her twenty first birthday. Walking to the door, she cocked the gun before opening it to see a smiling Jason with a bottle of Havana Club rum and a box of Hoyo de Monterrey cigars. 

“Hi Amaya,” He said with a smile. 

“Jason,” Amaya whispered. 

Chapter 12 

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Corrupt

Sequel to Breach and The Cell

Warnings: non/dubcon elements, rough sex, some violence.

This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: So this is written while Bucky is the Winter Soldier and his programming is going haywire. This is the third part and I’m still unsure about where I’m going but I hope you all enjoy. Please let me know what you think and reblog if you can :D

Once a day you were taken to the shower room to wash yourself. The guard would wave you out of the deafening white room and walk you down the corridors, his gear tinkling with each step. You hadn't much to say to your keepers and they had seemingly been ordered not to say anything to you. The loneliness and silence was starting to drive you mad.

The shower room was a long metallic chamber, walls lined with shower heads and faucet handles. The guard would stand outside the only door as you stepped inside, an echoing knock sounded when you were to emerge. It was almost peaceful. A reprieve from the constant observation and the anticipation of the Asset's next visit. The last you had peeked out the broad window, he was gone. Another mission meant a second drop-in could be expected.

You stepped under the shower head and cranked the faucet, the water soaking your hair and streaming down your body in divergent rivers. A cloud of steam rose around you and dispersed in the airy chamber before it could warm you completely. You washed yourself with the clinical smelling soap and squeezed a dollop of shampoo into your hair. As you rubbed in the bubbles, you heard the door. A shiver went through you; a culmination of the open chamber and unwanted intrusion.

You lowered your arms to cover yourself as you turned. Had you taken too long? You hadn’t wasted your time; as diligent as ever. The shampoo ran down your temple as your vision cleared and another figure appeared through the steam. The Asset walked mechanically to the shower beside you. His metal hand twisted the faucet, not once acknowledging your presence. He must have just returned; you could smell the sweat on him as the water began to slake through it.

You stared at him warily but he acted as if you weren’t even there. Cautiously you turned back and rinsed the last of the shampoo from your hair. Lastly, you let the water run over your face and wiped it away from your eyes before turning off your shower head. There wasn’t long that you could avoid him but you were entirely unprepared for him in this moment. This was the one time a day you were alone; when you found any sense of calm. Those minutes wrapped in steam were the only warmth you felt. You could let your mind drift away; you could cry about your homesickness without anyone knowing.

Before you could step away, you were stopped by a firm grip around your arm. The Asset’s flesh hand was on you, holding you in place. You looked up at him and he slowly returned your stare. You resisted as he tried to move you, nearly pulling you off your feet. As his fingers got tighter, you were forced to relent. He led you in front of him, facing him, standing just below the shower stream with him. He let go of your arm, his metallic hand mirroring his real one as he ran his hands from your shoulders to wrists. He took your hand in his vibranium one and reached over your shoulder. He placed the rough sponge in your palm as you trembled between him and the hot water. Next, he grabbed the same soap you had used and squeezed some onto the sponge.

He lifted your other hand and clapped the sponge between your palms. Slowly you worked it to a lather and he guided you to touch his chest. You stared up at him. His blue eyes were glued to you. At last his arms dropped to his side and he stood rigid. His attention left you and latched to the wall. He remained still as you began to scrub his skin; neck, shoulders, chest, arm, you weren’t sure about the metal one, down his torso, and then you stopped. He hadn’t moved at all; not a twitch or flinch, but as you reached his pelvis you found him to be aroused. You dropped the sponge as you gaped at his erection. You started to back away from him, your feet slipping on the tile.

His metal arm reached past you and twisted the faucet to a stop. The steady downpour ceased and only thick silence remained. You retreated straight into the wall as he stepped closer. No, not here. You had readied yourself for the inevitable in the cell, but not here. This was your safe place. His hand was on your neck in a second; just on the side of it. Firm enough to keep you still. He was looking at you again. His vibranium hand was on yours, leading it once more, this time it brought your fingers to his cock. You shuddered as you were forced to grip him. He rocked his pelvis so that your hand slid along his length, holding your grasp against him. His other hand glided down your collar bone to cup your breast.

With a tilt of his head, he let go of your hand on his cock. A silent command to continue.You didn’t dare pull away, carrying the motion as his breaths grew drawn out. His shoulders slackened as he continued to toy with your tits. His eyes were stuck to the movement of your hand as if fascinated; not just by the sensation but the sight itself. Of another touching him. You stared at his muscled chest, too embarrassed to watch what you were doing or what he was doing to you.

His hand left your chest, the one that was still his own, creeping down your stomach, tickling the line of your pelvis. He leaned down as he reached further and forced his hand between your legs. You closed your eyes. You concentrated on keeping your hand working up and down his cock. Two fingers pushed between your folds, exploring your pussy. He felt around for a while, his chest rising and falling heavily as you stroked him, until the flick of his finger across your clit made you spasm. He repeated the gesture and your back arched into him, your hand hesitating as you tried to keep your pace. He pulled your hand away from his cock and hooked his arm around you, pressing himself to you as he swirled his fingers around your bud. You had no control over your body as you began to twitch; little moans fell from your lips.

He bent his head so that his lips were just above your forehead. You could feel him smelling you, feeling the convulsions of your body as he lulled it. You gripped his bicep, bracing yourself as you felt the rising tide. You were on your tiptoes as the tendrils wrapped around your thighs, crawling up your back. His breath was hot against your hairline as his fingers dragged forth your climax and your nails dung into his flesh. Your orgasm was but a whisper but your entire body turned to air and the tension seeped from you, dripping down his hand.

He retracted his hand and stood straight. You opened your eyes and watched as he gripped his cock. He spread your juices along his length. Slowly the afterglow began to peel away and you let go of his arm. No, not again. You tried to push him away but he easily held you to the wall. He grabbed your hips and lifted you easily. His flesh was hot against yours; even his metal hand burned. He positioned you just over his cock as you clawed at his chest. 

“Stop, stop,” You begged. “Please.”

He couldn’t hear you. Or didn’t want to. You felt the head of his cock at your entrance, the slick hole welcoming him. As he lowered you onto him, you hissed through your teeth. You beat on his chest until he had impaled you entirely. Your eyes seared with the threat of tears. A mixture of humiliation and anger; at him, at Hydra, at yourself. You slapped him across the face but his head didn’t even move. He barely seemed to notice the strike. He merely pulled back and slid into again; this time harder.

As he thrust into you, you whined and whimpered. Your walls began to ache from his invasion and your own pleasure. The pressure began to build and despite your inner turmoil, you chased the release. You needed it. It was the only escape you had left. For that split second, you could forget and get lost in the rapture. You surrendered as the Asset fucked you, crushing you against the wall as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your legs hung limp around him; the shower room filled with the sounds of clapping flesh and your intermingled moans.

You were gasping, barely able to catch your breath between thrusts, and the wheel whirred within you until finally it ground to a halt. You sobbed as you met another orgasm, frazzled as his pace didn’t waver. He pounded into you and grunted into your neck until he slowed to a decisive stabbing. His right hand kneaded your ass as his metal arm hooked up, fingers clutching your shoulder as he sunk as deep as he could. You felt the sudden burst of warmth and he snarled sharply. He continued his jagged thrusts to a slow halt. He let you sink to his base as he held you to the wall and his breath slowed.

He lowered you carefully to the floor and removed himself from you. Your legs crumbled beneath you and you fell to the shower floor. You hung your head as you held yourself up with shaky arms. You could feel his cum leaking from you. You looked between your legs at the glossy flow along your thighs. Your entire body was thrumming.

You heard the Asset moving around but didn’t dare look up. If you were lucky, he would just leave you alone. He didn’t. A white robe appeared before you. He set it in your hands and lifted you under your arms until you were standing. You didn’t move or look up. He took the robe and forced it up your arms and around your figure. He tied it tightly. He covered himself with another as you sunk back into a half-crouch against the wall.

He let out a long breath and scooped you up. He carried you in his arms to the door, kneeing it with a bang. The guard opened it and another appeared beside him. He marched between them through the halls as you covered your face and began to shake. You couldn’t cry; don’t cry, don’t cry. When you opened your eyes, you were at the door of your cell and he swiftly carried you through and set you down on the bed. He stared down at you and his fingers drew a line down your cheek. You turned so that your back was to him and buried your head under your arm.

You listened for him to leave. He did so after a moment of silence. You remained as you were. When your lunch was brought, you ignored it. Dinner was left untouched as well. You couldn’t find the strength to do anything but lay there. There was no point in fighting; none in fear. It would be easier if you just complied.

*

tags: @thepettyavenger @tuyetnhivo @thosecikinnn @glitterypinkkitty @thoughtlesstales @selinbaskaya @vitamingrant @lilithhellfire @bbyspiiice @blackpantherimagines @kweenkxtrina @heavenlyblyss @letsagomario @collette04 @secretlyactivated @xxm3xxj @roses-and-absinthe @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @phoenix21love @momc95 @buckycaptspideypool @justballoonfishthings @ms-munchkin @whosmarisaaarw @thoughtlesstales @kxllyxnnx @calspixie @imdiegohargreeves @satinprincessxo @amethyst-the-thot @docharleythegeekqueen @iiqueer-vibesii @carol-damn-vers @l0rd-disick @jilldsumner @hufflebucky @lanabanana-86 @nerdypinupcrystal @notyourtypicalrose @pink1031 @agent-spidey @wassupbitchesssss @lucifersnipnips @thirstyforsomeyandere @xxm3xxj @stuckybarton

#bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #fic #bucky barnes #series #breach #the cell #mcu #marvel #dark bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark!fic #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #dark!winter soldier #captain america

[onlytaylor]

Pansmione + Pizza and Halloween! 🎃

October 31st brought about an expectedly empty eighth year common room. Most students were either out partying somewhere hidden in the castle or heading out to Hogsmeade for a butter beer. All except Hermione, who was feeling oddly homesick.

Her father used to share his love of slasher movies with her, and every year they’d spend copious amounts of time in front of the TV indulging on classics like Halloween and Nightmare on Elm Street.

This year, she’d felt inspired, and with a bit of magic and a lot of research she’d managed to spell a muggle television to work in the confines of the castle.

She grinned to herself, slightly smug at her success as she hit the power button. The solitude usually wouldn’t bother her, but she almost itched to share this with someone, as her father had done with her.

Within a few moments, the title screen began to flash with the flickering of Halloween’s famous Jack o’lantern. She relaxed on the common room couch, spelling the lights down and settling into the pillows.

Her focus was so dedicated that she didn’t hear footsteps emerging from the dorms behind her.

“Hey, Granger. Want to explain what you’re doing all alone in the dark?”

Hermione jumped, already spooked as Pansy Parkinson came to stand in front of the couch.

“Hey, Pansy, I’m, um, just watching something.” She was slightly startled by the fact that this girl was here on Halloween night and not out partying with the rest of the former Slytherins.

“Is that- is that a television?” Pansy cocked her head, arms crossed. “We learned about them in Muggle studies. How in the hell did you...?”

Hermione nodded,trying to find words as the credits continued to dance across the screen.

“I just- magic.”

Pansy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and taking a seat next to her.

“No shit, Granger. You’re amazing, you know that? I can’t imagine how complicated that must’ve been.”

Hermione felt herself blushing. She would usually agree; she was used to reminding Ron and Harry that if they studied harder, their marks would reflect her own. But something about the cool manner of Pansy Parkinson and her compliments sent her head reeling.

“Thanks,” she managed to squeak, returning her attention to the screen to distract herself from their proximity.

“So, what are we watching on this frightful eve?” Pansy wiggled her eyebrows facetiously.

“We?” Hermione asked, finding brown eyes focused on her own.

“Duh. What else would I be doing?”

Hermione shrugged. “Anything else?”

At this, Pansy laughed. “Nah. This will be ten times more fun than any Halloween shenanigans. I’m done with the nonsense. We’re adults now.” She winked, illiciting a relaxed chuckle from Hermione.

“Okay, then. We’re watching Halloween.”

“Is it good?”

“Of course it is.

“Then I’m game. What are we eating?”

“Eating?”

“Yes, I’m starving.”

Hermione pondered the idea. It only made sense to eat Muggle food while watching a Muggle slasher fic.

“Pizza.”

“What the hell is that?”

Hermione gasped. “You’ve never had- oh my gosh, you grew up in a Wizarding family! Of course!”

“Apparently, I’ve missed out on a lot.”

“Trust me, you have.”

Hermione pulled out her wand, flicking it and transfiguring a bubbling hot pizza from thin air.

Pansy’s mouth dropped. “I fucking told you you’re amazing! No one can just transfigure food! Especially not food that looks this good!”

Hermione could feel the heat flooding her cheeks. She reached forward, handing a slice to Pansy and taking one for herself. She held it up.

“Cheers?”

Pansy nodded with a satisfied smile. “To spending Halloween in the best way possible.”

Hermione couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. She lifted her slice before Pansy took the opening bite.

Her eyes widened, and her face scrunched in a way that made Hermione question her transfiguration skills. But in the next moment, Pansy was grinning, mouth still obnoxiously full.

“Granger, this is amazing! Like, what the hell is in this? Magic?”

Hermione laughed. “No, it’s pretty much just pepperoni, cheese, and tomato sauce.”

Pansy swallowed. “Whatever it is, Muggles are doing it right.” She turned her attention to the TV before taking another bite. Hermione pondered her statement, reveling in Pansy’s complete change of heart since the war. She was a whole new person, it seemed, and Hermione wished she would’ve known the potential she held sooner.

Without another word, Pansy scooted closer on the couch. Their sides were touching, and Hermione gulped. Pansy didn’t seem to notice, completely engrossed now that the movie was beginning.

Hermione has seen this movie a hundred times, but now she couldn’t seem to recollect what was happening. She was too distracted by the steady rhythm of Pansy’s breath, her body shifting with each expiration against her shoulder. She quickly devoured her pizza and reached for another piece, and Hermione felt overwhelmingly proud.

Pansy liked pizza. Hermione’s pizza. Michael Myers was making his first kill, and Pansy jumped at the sudden orchestrated stabbing. Her body subconsciously turned toward Hermione’s, and now they were closer, and she couldn’t breathe.

How had they gone from acquaintences to friends to this? Hermione tried to be logical about the situation, as she did with everything, but there was no real explanation for this. For the way that suddenly her heart was hammering in her chest at Pansy’s touch. For the indescribable nervousness that came with her presence; it was a feeling she’d never dealt with before. It was both sickening and utterly elating, and Hermione had no idea what to do with herself.

“Granger, that guy’s fucking crazy. He just- MERLIN!” She jumped again, this time wrapping her arms around Hermione. Again, she pretended that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, eyes fixed on the screen. Hermione tried to hide her uncontrollable hyperventilating which had absolutely nothing to do with the thrill of the movie.

“P-Pansy,” she finally choked, but her gaze didn’t falter from the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Your arms- your arms are around me.”

“Uh huh.”

She didn’t move. Hermione relaxed a bit, testing the waters. She laid her head to rest against Pansy’s shoulder, and Pansy shuffled closer in response.

“Hey Granger?”

Hermione looked up and was shocked when Pansy turned her face toward her own.

“Yes?” She whispered, unable to make a sound, lost in the moment.

“Thanks for Muggle movie night. I think I’m a fan.” Pansy smiled, and she was so goddamn close, her breath tickled Hermione’s nose.

“You’re welcome.” Another whisper. Pansy’s eyes flickered to her lips, a gesture that didn’t dare go unnocited by Hermione.

“You know what’s better than pizza?”

Hermione didn’t answer, contemplating the question and coming up dry.

Pansy giggled at Hermione’s perplexity.

“It’s you, silly.”

“But you really liked the pizza,” she piped, still alarmingly confused for being the brightest witch of her age.

“Yes, Granger. And I really like you.”

Hermione’s breath caught, and suddenly Pansy was leaning forward, bold as she was, to close the space between them.

Their lips pressed together, and Hermione’s brow furrowed in that way that Pansy thought was absolutely adorable. Hermione felt whole, and right, and she completely forgot for a moment that there was a movie playing and pizza to be eaten and it was Halloween-

“AHHHH!” The TV blared as Myers made another kill, and it was Hermione who jumped this time.

Pansy giggled. “I thought you’d seen this before.” Her eyes were suggestive, confidence unwavering.

“I have, I just- you distracted me!”

Pansy’s laugh continued. “I like distracting you, Granger.”

“I don’t think I mind it too much myself, if we’re being honest.”

“Good.” Pansy pulled her in for another kiss, and Hermione sighed, agreeing wholeheartedly that this was indeed the best way to spend Halloween. Cheers.

#pansmione #pansy parkinson x hermione granger #pansy parkinson #hermione granger #fluff #writing by onlykatelyn #halloween #eighth year

[glasyasbutch]

Time! Line! Asks! Roona: 2! Craving: 5! I make you be nice to Craving asmr!!! Ezra: 7! Gildy: 14! Tov: 8! Did I just go through your active characters page! Yes!!!! Go nuts king!!!

hee hee hoo hoo!!!!!!!!!! thank u rebekah!!!! (also thanks for the reminder to add gent and take off gildy from my active characters nnsfsdkl)

2. the timeline in which they never met who would become the most influential or important person in their life, or that person was taken from them before they were capable of forming memories.

Now this is an interesting one for roona, because they genuinely don’t have a single person in their life that i consider to be hugely influential. like, i guess at the moment you could say sepia man, for trapping her in black and white hell, or vinny, for talking her into taking that job.

but honestly, roona doesn’t form long-term attachments, and that’s not a sad thing for her! she enjoys the constant change, and she has plenty of good memories and people she considers friends, but she just doesn’t hang around any of them long enough to experience a lot of change that wouldn’t have otherwise occurred had she not been trying with that exact purpose.

so, in some ways, this timeline is pretty much identical to the one they’re in now. they float around from place to place without much regard for what they’re going to and what they’re leaving behind outside of following the trail of interest they’re currently on.

in other ways, removing any one person from their life would disrupt the timeline just as much as anyone else, because every single place she’s been and person she’s met has tweaked her path in life just a little bit. roona functions like a domino snake, falling moment to moment to moment and not able to see ahead because theres the thing thats happening right now in the way, but if you turn one domino even a little, you might miss the next one entirely and stop the trail right then, or skip to another area. so picking any random person to remove from her life very well could mean that alternate universe roona is still on the material plane, across the country from where they and vinny last were, a college of whispers bard multiclassed with rogue posing as a cleric just to get better gossip.

roona lives her life unchanged, yet utterly changed, and always random.

5. the timeline in which they continue on from the current point in their life to the best happy ending within their reach, where nothing that has happened so far is negated, but the happy things start piling up

craving’s backed herself so far into a corner that there’s no happy ending for her without some strife first. so we’ll get that out of the way.

the party finds out who her patron is. maybe judhas lets it slip, maybe she gets drunk again and spills it to val in a heart to heart about their devil cult trauma, maybe the morning lord sends manic and message and she can’t bear to lie to him when he’s sitting right next to her and asking so sincerely what she did to try and let him walk the high road.

and she cries. she cries, and she screams, and she pushes people away, and she retreats beneath her own skin and tries to hide because she knows this is her fault but she cannot admit she fucked up because she has to believe in what she’s doing if she’s going to see it through.

but someone snaps her out of it. someone gives her an exit. someone (or several someones) vow to stand by her side without judgement and get her out of this mess no matter the cost because they don’t believe that she’s as hopelessly damned as the rest of the world.

they break out of barovia first and foremost. they stab that vampire bitch right through the heart.

she gets to tell judhas to fuck the hell off, and god does it feel good.

then, she discovers the location of sirris’ true soul, that it is not in hell, and she has no reason to have her pact anymore, and she finds a way to break it, even against the queen of loopholes.

she runs into stella again, a free woman, and its been so damn long since they saw each other. they both had their trauma turned on them to manipulate them into subversion and they both are tearing that control apart from the inside. so they clean each others wounds and kiss each other’s bruises and craving finally says “i love you” because god damn it, she does, and she knows stella already knew, but her star deserves to hear it.

manic has a happy ending too, because he and craving are too close for her to have one without him. he sticks with the morninglord, i think. this god seems good for him, even if he won’t really be your typical preacher-type paladin. he probably finds love again in val. if not romance, at the very least family. at least one of her and manic gets a cat again.

craving lives her life supported, wanted, and free.

7. the timeline in which they never experience the loss that taught them something important

this is actually pretty similar to #1 that morgan gave me for him (timeline for ideal life) but i’ll give a quick thing.

the loss was cate’s death, and it taught him that the world is ultimately uncontrollable, even by the gods. at first it made him angry, that he was lied to, and he didn’t want to trust in anyone for fear that he’d be let down. he took five years to start calming down, and then it began to transfer into making him overly kind, because if all he can control in this world is himself, he wants that part to be as welcoming as possible.

so, in a world where cate doesn’t die, he never becomes disillusioned and reillusioned with the idea of devotion. he simply grows in his trust of tamara. his power increases, he becomes a staple of the temple, he lives a happy life inside its battered walls.

i would posit that he might actually be less compassionate in this timeline. not that he’s mean, he’s a very dedicated paladin of a mercy goddess. but, ultimately, he believes that mercy is a given in the world. he believes in tamara’s ability to force it to occur, and that he is simply a conduit. so he makes less effort to cultivate it himself. kindness is no longer a conscious choice that he has to make, and perhaps, that means it falls slightly more to the wayside.

ezra lives his life secure, confident, and devout.

14. the timeline in which they take a chance they didn’t in canon

i’m gonna do a real throwback here, to gildy’s first campaign that lasted ... less than 10 sessions. I think it was a total of like 6. 

in our second session, we met this old man who lived in the middle of nowhere and everyone thought he was super weird because he would go out in the mornings and sweep dust off his lawn and carry it inside. gildy asked him what he was doing and he revealed that this was actually ash, floating over on the wind from a near-ish-by volcano with a connection to the fire plane. he mixed the ash in with clay to create enchanted pottery.

now, playing an elderly 3d artist, i really wanted to flirt with this other elderly 3d artist, but the dm said no because we’d never come back to this town. but, in the timeline where gildy couldve done whatever the fuck she wanted because she wasn’t constricted by a meta-plot, she would’ve tried really hard to get to know this guy!

she would’ve asked to learn some pottery, her hands still work just fine even though her knees don’t always. she’s used to shaping metal, which fights back. she’d love to learn to shape clay, which almost moves before you do. (she might have tried to do the ghost pottery scene with this dude. she knows what’s up). 

there was a nice smithy in town too, made all kinds of weapons and armor. she would’ve taken up apprenticeship with them and hopefully become one of their artisans. and i think she would’ve had a wonderful time there! a new city, with new people, a new love of her life, all the creation she could ask for at her fingertips, a life that hasn’t grown stagnant even after 270 years. there’s also, if i remember right, a mountain nearby. she does get a little homesick from time to time, the view helps. 

gildy lives her life reimagined, shared, and satisfied.

8. the timeline in which they gain everything they want, except for the thing they wanted most

i think this is actually the timeline he’s in right now!!!!!! he wants more than anything to go back home and be forgiven. i don’t think that’ll happen. even if he does reconcile with rax eventually, he’ll have been gone too long for the clan to feel like home in the same way, and i don’t think either rax or him will ever be able to forget what happened, just build a new relationship around it.

but, he has friends now, which he never thought he would. and a house. with a business under it! what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he’s doing good for the city. he’s part of an order dedicated to righteousness and law. he’s an upstanding citizen!

and. of course. he has savra. he has the potential for unconditional love, for family, for future, everything he thought he’d get back from rax one day, but probably won’t. he’ll fall in love with her before he even knows it, (he’s already started), and when he finally realizes, he’ll feel more okay with it than he ever thought he would be, because she knows what its like to feel shame and she knows how to grow past it. 

he’ll be her good man, and a good father eventually, and he won’t even need to go back home anymore (even though he’ll want to, he’ll always feel a bit of guilt that the half-dragon babies only know their human grandparents, and he’ll miss the summer festival food because you just can’t get the right spices in waterdeep even if he and savra try to cook the meals themselves, and he’ll miss the way his brother punches his arm when he laughs because savra never does that, and -). but he’ll have a home in ways he never thought a home could be, but he likes them, and he’s happy, truly, even with the shadows that still curl around the corner of his heart. 

tov lives his life long, useful, and good.

#THANK YOU REBEKAH I RLY LIKED DOING THIS ONE #craving #tov #ezra #gildy #roona #asks

[lihikainanea]

tiger trying to make bill a nice meal for a change as it's usually him that does it for her so she finds a recipe and everything seems to be going fine until they both sit down to eat and once she takes her first bite shes literally spits it out because it's so gross and tells him she'll just order in (omg what if she tries to chuck bill's away before he gets to try it so they're literally wrestling over the plate)

Okay but nani, hear me out.

I secretly HC that tiger is actually a real good cook, but Bill loves to cook and it relaxes him so much that tiger just kind of...let’s him handle it. But anyway, she wants to surprise him so maybe she starts looking up recipes for that one Swedish dish he’s always mentioning, the kind that he says his dad made the absolute best. And he’s maybe a little homesick, probably a whole lot tired, and tiger wants to do something nice for him.

So she gets all the stuff, gets cooking, and when he comes home he takes a deep breath in through his nose and his mouth waters. She sets the plate in front of him, slides in on the other side of the table with her own plate. but then she takes a forkful, shoves it in her mouth...and promptly spits it back out onto her plate. She nearly gags, making a disgusted noise and swigging her wine. Bill looks at her cautiously, asks if she’s alright, and tiger just stands abruptly, grabbing both of their plates and apologizing as he protests, mumbling something about how she’ll order a pizza.

But Good Dude Bill--he knows she went to a lot of trouble, and he’s sure it’s not that bad. Maybe it can still be salvaged. So he reaches for his plate again but she holds it away from him. A mild scuffle ensues, Bill is waving his fork and stabbing idly at the air trying to get at least a forkful from the plate, all while tiger continues to apologize and fret and stress over it all.

He finally grabs her arm, manages to stab his fork into the plate and grab some food. He shoves it in his mouth as she squawks at him.

But then he just lets go a loud moan of pleasure, reaches for another bite and crams a way-too-big forkful into his mouth again.

“This tastes just like how my dad makes it,” he moans, grabbing the plate from her. And tiger is so stunned she can’t move, as he continuous to shove it in his mouth.

“It’s....It’s supposed to taste like that?” she asks incredulously. Bill is already nearly done his plate, and he’s eyeing hers.

“God yes,” he says, “This is so good kid, thank you.”

“It’s supposed to taste like I’m getting tongue-fucked by dill?” she asks. Bill just smiles low and dangerous, flicks his tongue out teasingly at her.

“Scoop me another helping, sugar tits, and it won’t be the only tongue-fucking you get tonight.”

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard drabble #BFF!Bill #funny