#if you don’t like it don’t fucking read it dickbag

[lets-all-calm-down-a-bit]

Here’s a thought: Maybe just don’t read them then.

#there’s a lot of fics out there that aren’t my style #or that feel ooc #or that i don’t particularly enjoy #so you know what i fucking do? #i click the back button and i find something else #no one is forcing you at gunpoint to read their fanfic #they wrote that for fun and they wrote it for free #they created a story and shared it with the world FOR FREE #if you don’t like it don’t fucking read it dickbag #it’s that simple #let people have fun #south park #southpark #sp #colby rambles #sp kyle #sp stan #sp kenny #sp eric #sp butters

[schrijverr]

Stiles as a Roommate

Classic outsiders POV of Stiles in college, where his roommate, Mike, and their other friends try to figure out who all these people are that keep calling Stiles.

On AO3.

Ships: Sterek

Warnings: they think Stiles is wrapped up in some bad shit (which valid tbh)

~~~~

Mike’s roommate is profoundly disturbing and highly hilarious to have around. On the first day he comes crashing into the room, tripping over himself like an old school physical comedy, before assuring Mike that he’s fine and it doesn’t even come close to being beaten to a pulp by a grandfather.

It’s quite the introduction and for a while Mike was worries that his roommate is going to suck. Stiles isn’t the typical college student, you see.

He has amassed an entire herb garden in the windowsill, skips out on most parties, keeps a metal baseball bat by his bed and calls home every single day. On top of that, he doesn’t know how to shut up and his rants devolve into the strangest bullshit about the most random topics that make Mike wonder why the hell criminology major had looked into them.

So, Mike thought he is stuck with a weird paranoid kid, who doesn’t know how to have fun. He worries about Stiles getting mad about him getting back in late or judgmental about not studying as much. However, his worries had soon been put to rest.

Because Stiles is fun and Stiles is easy. He can become anyone’s friend in minutes and is up later than healthy most of the time, doing weird bullshit on his laptop that he calls research, though Mike never knows what for.

He might not be a party-goer himself, but he absolutely doesn’t care about what Mike does, just jeering at him to use protection when he goes out and waking him up with a smug smirk and coffee when Mike wants to disappear into his mattress with a hangover, kicking his ass to classes.

Stiles is probably what is keeping him from failing right now and Mike will go to great lengths to keep him as his friend, because, yeah, they’re friends now.

It’s impossible not to befriend Stiles, he grows on you like a very persistent mold.

His friendship with Stiles starts six weeks into rooming together. Classes are in full swing alongside parties and Mike has just started to get worried about his roommate being a stick in the mud, when he comes home at 4:00 AM piss drunk.

Naturally he tries (and fails) to quietly enter the room, trying not the be the dickbag that wakes people up every night to find the lights still on. He blinks a few times at Stiles, who is sitting on his bed with a laptop and smartly says: “Huh.”

“God, you’re so fucking drunk it’s not even funny, dude. I can smell it from here and I don’t even have a freaky nose,” Stiles comments, before he gets up from the bed.

Mike sways slightly in the doorway, mentally trying to decide if he can do a stumble and drop to his bed or if he’ll sleep on the floor when Stiles is suddenly in front of him. He startles and nearly falls over, saved from faceplanting by Stiles, who is usually the one meeting the floor.

“Oh, hey, there, hey, buddy,” Stiles says, righting him. He slips an arm around Mike and masterfully stumble-drags him to the bed, depositing him on it. He points at Mike, who is still reeling from the movement and sternly says: “Don’t move,” as if Mike had any big plans.

Moments later he returns with a glass of water and gets Mike upright, telling him to sip and not allowing him to stop until the glass is empty.

Mike isn’t sure what happens next, but the next morning he wakes up with a groan to find two painkillers, a glass of water and a glass of orange juice on his bedside table along with a note reading: go to your classes! And you’re not a very eloquent drunk

In that moment, it feels like the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him, swiftly forgetting all his parents have done under the pounding headache. He takes his painkillers, drinks his drinks and actually manages to drag himself to his lecture, deciding that Stiles might not be so bad.

When he comes back from his class, Stiles is there, typing away on his laptop again. He greets Mike when he enters and Mike returns it: “Hey, dude. Thanks for the painkillers and stuff.”

“Yeah, man, no problem,” Stiles smiles back. “It’s just instinct at this point, I’ve had to drag worse people off to bed.”

It’s a bit of an odd reply, but something Mike can work with. “You friends with many party-goers?”

A strange look flits over Stiles’ face, but it goes as fast as it comes and Stiles says: “Something like that. I was the one with a car, who wasn’t a prick about it getting dirty on the inside when in crisis. I have passed up on many party experiences except the clean up. All my friends are idiots.”

Mike chuckles at that and plops down on his own bed, as he comments: “Do you have a big friend group back home?” See, he can have conversations, mom.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles tells him with a grin. “We’re like a family. A very weird family.” A brief pause. “But how about you?”

“Nah,” Mike shrugs. “I’m making up for it now.”

“Yeah, I can see,” Stiles grins. “Alcohol is a poison, my man. Besides, I’m not sure you’re remembering the friends you made.”

The bluntness is something Mike has encountered before and turned him away, but it doesn’t sound mean. He remembers that he is going to try with Stiles, so instead of ending the conversation there, he shrugs: “Probably, but it’s fun while it lasts.”

“Come on, man, that’s not fun,” Stiles says. “I have some friends from introduction. We get fries on Thursdays and study on Sunday. You can come sometime, it’s fun.”

Okay, so the bluntness was genuine concern and Mike honestly could use some actual friends. He likes parties, they’re fun, but the loneliness is starting to get to him. So he replies: “Sure, sounds fun.”

“Hell yeah,” Stiles does a genuine fist pump and Mike snorts. Yeah, alright, maybe Stiles isn’t so bad at all.

“Why were you awake so late anyway?” Mike asks, suddenly remembering that Stiles was just sitting there when he stumbled in.

“Oh, Jackson called me,” Stiles says. “He’s in studying in at Cambridge, because his parents are pretentious fuckers. He needed to check in about… something and I was still awake. I had to look something up, I was just emailing him the details when you came in.”

“All the way in England?” Mike whistles, a bit impressed.

“Tsk, don’t let hear him that. Dick has a big enough ego as it is,” Stiles rolls his eyes.

“I thought you were his friend?” Mike says, a bit confused, because Stiles had literally picked up the phone at 4:00 AM for this guy, couldn’t be that much bad blood, could there?

“Surprisingly enough. He had a restraining order against me in high school for a while,” Stiles informs him casually, before realizing how that sounds and quickly amending: “Obviously, he revoked it, because it was completely unnecessary and a big misunderstanding. We’re cool now, promise.”

And that’s Mike’s cue to drop the conversation, giving Stiles a tight nod, before turning to his own work. He’s giving the other a chance, not inviting crazy. Though he does allow himself to be invited for fries on Thursday with Stiles’ friends.

There is Maya a shy, but enthusiastic biology major; Aalif, a kind but serious looking pre-law student; Nikki, a hilariously insane art major; and Kai a bit of a dorky English major. How Stiles had found this ragtag group Mike doesn’t know

“Mike,” he introduces himself. “I do history. I’m Stiles’ roommate,” before he’s pulled into a discussion about whether or not fries can be classified as a salad. (Potato salad exists, Mike, and it’s a side dish).

It’s honestly a lot more fun than expected and it’s nice to see that Stiles does know how to have fun, he just has fun arguing about nothing with someone studying to argue professionally instead of getting wasted.

While Mike doesn’t think he’ll keep away from parties entirely, he might cut back to make place for this. The genuine connection is way nicer than not remembering who you talked to, or if you even did.

They’re about to start opening the famous is cereal-soup debate when Stiles’ phone starts to ring. He nearly hits his head on the table as he dives to get it out of his bag, calling out a quick: “Sorry, guys, gotta take this real quick.”

But since he is stuck in a booth, all he can do is turn away from them as he greets: “Isaac, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

It’s not the most standard greeting and Mike raises his brow at the others, who all shrug. Apparently this has happened before. Mike watches as Stiles gets a reply, fascinated by how Stiles seems to melt, worries leaving him as he grins fondly, before practically cooing: “You missing me already? I am flattered, pup.”

He grins some more at what Isaac is saying, before raising a brow, voice turning into a tease: “I feel used here. Like a cheap replacement. You knew Scott was going to be busy with Allison, I even warned you. Not my fault no one in this p- family ever listens to me.”

Another reply to which Stiles says: “Yes, you heard correctly, I’m with friends, you can make those at college. I encourage you to try.”

An eyeroll at Isaac’s answer, then a sigh: “Yes, Isaac, having your own friends will get their attention again. But try also for yourself, meeting new people is fun. Maybe you even meet someone you like.”

“Bye, Isaac,” Stiles says pointedly, it sounds faintly like Isaac is protesting his departure, but he hangs up on him.

“Sorry about that, you know how they can get,” Stiles grins, trying to play it off, while Mike tries to ignore how much it sounds like the conversation he had with his mom last week, before deciding to join the others in not commenting.

And after that it their friendship takes off until they’re at the ‘waking him up with a smug smirk and coffee when Mike wants to disappear into his mattress with a hangover, kicking his ass to classes’- stage.

Turns out that if you’re closer to Stiles, he’s even weirder. He goes home pretty often, now that he has settled in alright, nearly every other weekend, at least once a month, though he complains about his dad forcing him to stay at college to get the full experience, air quotes obvious in his voice.

Mike doesn’t say anything, since he kind of agrees with Stiles’ dad. It’s a bit unhealthy how much Stiles’ calls home. Or at least, Mike thinks he does, though it always sounds like it’s someone else on the phone, because Stiles will tell the same story a bunch of times or tell the person that another person told him to tell them etc, like they couldn't call themselves.

The conversations are also just weird. Stiles cuts himself off sometimes, sending Mike looks, or he’ll fuss over whoever is on the other side of the line like he’s their therapist, or their fucking mother. Not to mention the fact that he always – always – picks up.

Mike has tried to call Stiles a few times, a lot of the time his roommate won’t pick up, or call back apologetically, yet he’ll leave a lecture if someone from home calls.

It’s just odd.

So, brave soldier as he is (as well as the head investigator of their little friend group, who are all more curious about Stiles than Mike expected when he first met them), he asks: “Hey, man, who are you always calling?”

Stiles look up from where has just hung up with a: “You be careful okay? I love you,” looking a bit confused, before smiling and shrugging: “That depends, honestly. It’s a bit much.”

That sounds like a deflection, but Mike is curious and got better at talking to people and standing up for himself. So, he goes: “I have time. I’m smart. I think I can take it.”

“Alright,” Stiles shoots him another uncertain look, before starting, “Well, my dad and Derek are holding down the fort, so I call them just to see how life is going. Boyd and Erica are there too, so I call them too, but Boyd doesn’t talk much, so I mostly call with Erica. She is my Catwoman, you know, we chat, she spills about Boyd. He has his own carpentry shop, it’s been going well. I’m glad for him, you know. And Erica is taking a gap year, but to be honest, I think she likes being a park ranger too much to ever go back to school.”

Mike nods along to Stiles’ rambles. His dad is explainable and the fact that he added Derek in there must mean they’re a unit in his mind, maybe a brother? Or even his father’s boyfriend. Erica is someone he’s close with and knows well, called her his Catwoman, so maybe girlfriend? But he connected her to Boyd, who sounds like a far friend of sorts, so maybe not.

“Of course there is Jackson in England,” Stiles continues on happily. “I told you about him. He is a bit of a dick, but we’ve forgiven him. Well, Lydia did and we all trusted her and it worked out okay.”

And yeah, Mike remembers Jackson with the apparent restraining order and wonders who Lydia is. Luckily he doesn’t have to wait long.

“Lydia,” Stiles sighs, making Mike think he loves her, which he naturally immediately disproves by going, “I used to be in love with her, but turns out, no. She’s being an absolute genius doing mathematics at CalTech. She terrifies me in the best ways.”

That’s not concerning at all.

“And then you have Scott, my best friend,” Stiles rambles on and Mike knows that the other probably won’t even notice if he leaves. He gets like that. “Now my man Scott is at Colorado State

to become a vet alongside Allison and Isaac.”

Those two names are also familiar and Mike feels awkward staying silent, so he says: “They’re all become vets?”

“No, just Scott, but they’re all at Colorado State, because Scott will probably perish without Allison and Isaac hates being lonely and didn’t get into Stanford with me,” Stiles says, like that’s the most obvious reason to pick a school.

Mike is distracted by Stiles hitting his arm enthusiastically: “Allison is also doing history, man, I hadn’t even thought of that! I don’t know how it would be relevant either, but you know, fun fact! I love fun facts, like did you know that human teeth are the only part of the body that can’t heal themselves, because enamel is dead tissue. That was fun to find out.”

He senses that there is a story there, but Stiles is already moving on: “And Isaac, my beautiful boy, is doing social studies, which I think will really help him. He’s come so far and he’s really happy with his courses.”

Isaac was the one that called during that first Thursday fries run Mike was a part of. He recalls the nicknames and the fact that Isaac was missing Stiles, not to mention how fond Stiles sounded and the fact that Isaac wanted to go to college with him. Maybe Isaac was the boyfriend?

“Anyways,” Stiles ends his rant. “I told you it’s a bit much, but I like knowing they’re okay and getting by and if I only call one, the others will get jealous. There’s only so much Stiles to go around and everyone wants a piece,” he grins.

Mike thinks Stiles has a weird relationship with his friends from back home, but also that he doesn’t want to create any friction with his roommate and best friend on campus, so he just nods and smiles a bit.

“But how about you?” Stiles returns the question. “You never call home, at least, not that I’ve witnessed.”

Since Stiles decided to share, something he rarely does, Mike knows he should return the favor, so he shrugs. “Not really much to call.”

“Is no one there?” Stiles asks, all concern.

“My mom and dad are, but you know,” Mike shrugs. “Dad just cares about my grades and mom is always prying, like she thinks I can’t manage by myself or something. It’s fucking annoying. I’m an adult now, she doesn’t need to hover.”

Stiles frowns at his reply, then bites his lip as if he isn’t sure he should say something, before he breaks and blurts: “But isn’t that nice? To have someone who worries?”

“What?” Mike hadn’t thought Stiles would pick his mom’s side, though maybe he should have seen it coming.

“I mean, I don’t know your situation of course, but I get it,” Stiles shrugs, backing off a bit. “You’ve always been her baby, who she saw every single day and knew when you had a bad day, when you got a good grade, etc, now she has nothing and you don’t tell her, so her mind makes up all the horrible things that could have happened to you between calls, resulting in what is practically an interrogation until she is satisfied that you’re truly as okay as you claim you are… Wow, that was one hell of s sentence,” Stiles ends his keen observation with a joke to lighten it up a bit, since he got way too into that.

Mike attempts to wade through the sea of words just slung to his head, before he realizes Stiles kind of has a point. He breathes: “How do you even know that?”

Stiles scratches his nose and shrugs: “I might be a bit of the mom-friend.” And Mike is reminded of the fact that Stiles is really weird with his friends and that he probably knows that because he does the exact same thing his mother does.

Next Sunday, he reports all this to the study group, which Stiles has had to skip out on, because someone called at midnight, which obviously meant Stiles immediately packed is bags and left, something that is more common than Mike would like.

“That’s a lot of friends,” Maya comments once he is done. “But it’s sweet he cares so much about them.”

“He cares mom-levels about them,” Mike points out. “I’m telling you, he got so intense while defending my mom, like it was personal.”

“So, he’s a bit intense about is friends,” Nikki shrugs. “One girl in my class is making a shrine to her boyfriend as a final project. We’re not at that level yet, so I think we’re good.”

“He took off in the middle of the night on a three hour drive, because someone called,” Mike replies.

“I don’t think it’s really any of our concern,” Aalif interrupts, before it can get out of hand.

“But what if they’re like a creepy cult or something?” Nikki asks.

Aalif levels her a look as he says: “I don’t think Stiles would get drawn into a cult.”

“You don’t know that,” she raises a brow. “It happens, even to smart people like Stiles.”

“He has a metal baseball bat by his bed,” Mike offers, not sure why he is backing Nikki in this debate.

“He does?” Maya asks, a bit concerned.

They all now look at Mike and he suddenly realizes that they’ve never been into their room, which is why he has become Stiles source number 1. He shrugs: “Yeah, he took it with him when he left for home tonight. It’s all damaged and shit, though I think some carvings are intentional. They look a bit like runes.”

Nikki raises a brow as she looks at Aalif and says: “But you don’t think Stiles could have joined a cult.”

“I don’t think a cult would have allowed him to leave for college, not to mention do criminology,” Maya offers. “I think he’s following a seminar about cults right now actually.”

“Okay, but even without a cult, still suspicious and weird,” Nikki huffs. “And it’s still a possibility, right, Mike?”

Mike startles a bit unsure how he got on the pro-cult side and not sure he isn’t agreeing. “I mean, he does have all these herbs and some weird books, but those could be from the library.”

And now they’re giving him more looks. Great. He puts his hands up defensively: “It’s not like I know, alright. Stiles never exactly cooks, maybe he just likes the smell of the herbs. And the books could be an aesthetic thing, though he keeps him under his bed in a box if they’re his.”

“What sort of books?” Kai asks after a beat.

“They’re leather bound. Old,” Mike shrugs. “I haven’t seen him with them much. He shoves them out of sight when I get in and the only times he hasn’t was when he thought I was asleep or very drunk.”

“Creepy,” Maya shivers.

“Come on, this is Stiles,” Aalif says. “He is not in some creepy cult. Do you all even hear yourselves? Seriously. Now, the midterms are coming up and I would like to get some passing grades.”

That gets a few boos and boring’s thrown at him, but Aalif doesn’t falter and they do all giggle a bit at the ridiculousness of Stiles in a cult. Before they can truly get anything done, Nikke snorts: “Maybe he tripped into it,” sending them all into giggles again.

It isn’t a joke anymore when Stiles reappears again on their Thursday fry run his face more bruise than skin and his hands both wrapped in bandages.

“Stiles!” Kai exclaims, already out of his seat. “What happened to you?”

“Hey there, guys,” Stiles attempts a grin, wincing at the action. “I’m good, I’m good.” He eases himself into their booth, wrapped fingers taking some fries and popping them into his mouth as the rest watches him with careful eyes. Of course he notices as he chews slowly, whispering to himself: “Knew Derek was right about the liquid diet. Fucker.”

“What happened?” Aalif asks when Stiles seems like he is going to ignore the whole situation that is his face and hands. “Stiles, if someone did this to do, you have to go to the police, file a report. You can sue.”

“Of course you’d say that, lawyer-man,” Stiles grins again, falling flat once more when his already split lip, re-splits and starts to bleed. “Ah, fuck,” he hisses, grabbing a napkin to press against it as he makes a disgruntled face.

“Stiles,” Nikki snaps.

“What?” he replies as if it’s not incredibly obvious.

Mike surprises himself by jumping in: “What the hell happened to you, man?”

It dawns on Stiles that they’re not letting it go and he sags a bit in his seat. Then says: “Nothing, I promise. It was just an accident, really.”

That’s just a thousand red flags there and Maya takes the lead for them, putting a hand on Stiles shoulder and saying in a soft voice: “We’re not going to judge you, promise. But right now, not knowing is so much worse.”

“Derek told me not to come,” Stiles sighs after a moment. “I knew it was stupid, but I wanted to come. I mean, he only had Boyd and Erica with him, because all the others were too far away. That wasn’t enough.”

“What were they doing?” Nikki asks, unable to keep her mouth shut and be patient.

Luckily, Stiles isn’t silenced by it. “Derek lives on the preserve, it’s in the middle of the forest and something was killing the animals. It was a mountain lion, we have a lot of animal attacks. They wanted to take it out before it moved into the town.”

Mike remembers Stiles telling him Erica was a park ranger, but Boyd was a carpenter and he knew nothing about Derek, which is weird on its own. Stiles loved bragging about his friends, or would casually comment about them or pick up the phone with their name on his lips, but Mike had before now heard the name Derek only once.

“Of course I tripped over a few branches in the dark,” Stiles laughs self-deprecatingly. “I should have known better. I’m a klutz, you know. Though I did get a hit in, before I went down in a not so glorious blaze of branches and a curse.”

“You hit a mountain lion?” Kai whisper yells.

“Yeah, with my bat,” Stiles shrugs, like it’s a normal thing.

“Dude, are you insane?” Mike asks.

“Oh, okay, I see what’s happening here,” Stiles backs up, like they didn’t make sense before now. “I didn’t want to admit I fell, because it’s embarrassing as fuck. And like, I know I’m clumsy, but after all the running away from shit trying to kill me, one would think I’d have gotten better at it, but noooo. I am surrounded by people who can do crazy shit, while I hit my head on a fucking branch, because why not.”

“Stiles!” Nikke cuts him off. “Running away from things trying to kill you? What the hell.”

“I was getting there,” Stiles says, though it’s obvious to all of them that he was getting further and further away from the point. “When I was in high school there were all these murders in town. My friend was targeted at one point, I got caught up in it. Nothing makes a friendship like getting locked into a school and running from a crazed murderer or holding someone up in a pool for two hours. It was a whole thing. Plus my father is the sheriff.”

“What the fuck,” Nikki voices the shared sentiment after a moment to process.

“Wait, here I have proof,” Stiles taps away on his phone, before showing a news article with the tagline reading: Five teens trapped in high school with murderer still on the loose

After letting them read it, he puts his phone in his pocket and proudly says: “We’re having a project about crimes in our hometown right now and I have an advantage over the rest.”

“That’s- That’s not-” Maya stutters. “…Stiles…”

“What?” he says confused, as if what he just bragged about isn’t heartbreaking. God, no wonder he’s a bit fucked from it all. Mike would want to know if all his friends are okay if he nearly saw them all killed alongside him.

“Are you, like, okay?” Mike asks.

“Probably not, like in general,” Stiles tells him honestly, “but I am really fine. As fine as I get anyway. Derek says I have to work on that, but he’s not the boss of me and I actually am doing better. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Maya smiles kindly. “We just want to know you’re okay. Thanks for trusting us with that. Did you get those wounds checked out?”

“I did,” he returns her smile. “Got a clean bill of health and everything. Dad wouldn’t let me drive back before that.”

“Good,” Aalif says.

They’re all quiet for a moment, before the thing that has been niggling on his mind comes out. He asks: “Who is this Derek person anyway?”

Stiles regards them all for a moment, before saying: “I don’t think we reached that level of friendship yet. Sorry. Like, you’re all my friends and stuff and I like bragging about my other friends to you, but I don’t know.”

“What?” Mike exclaims as Nikki points out: “You just told us you nearly got murdered, but telling us about a friend is a step too far?”

“You know, that is actually a good point,” Stiles says. “I must still be a bit lightheaded from everything, I normally don’t tell people that.”

“Should we take you to a hospital? Kai asks worriedly.

“No, no, I’m kidding, I think,” Stiles jokes, before quickly adding, “I am truly kidding, please don’t take me to a hospital. God, no one appreciates my humor.”

“Stiles,” Aalif sighs tiredly when Stiles deftly gets them on a different topic than Derek.

“Derek is my husband,” Stiles finally tells them, shutting them all up as they stare at them with their jaws on the floor. That explains Stiles trips home and lack of partying or otherwise getting laid, he had a whole fucking husband waiting for him at home.

None of them could know that Stiles’ reluctance to talk about Derek and his relation is that as a prominent alpha, broadcasting that they were ‘mated’ (and yes, Derek, that term is still weird to a human) isn’t really smart. Especially after everything that had already come to Beacon Hills.

“Y- Your husband?!?” Kai squeaks.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you all,” Stiles groans. “You can’t imagine the rumor mill at home when it happened, like seriously, people were acting like I was signing my life away to the devil or something.”

“Why?” Maya asks and Mike has to agree. Marriage so early isn’t exactly uncommon, it just took them by surprise this time. What would make this different.

“I-” Stiles looks genuinely sheepish, “I might have gotten him arrested for a murder he didn’t commit and stuff. But that was like, what? Two, three years ago.”

Immediately their table exploded, voices overlapping, because – again – what the fuck.

“He didn’t do it!” Stiles exclaims, shutting them all up. “He was framed. Set up. Look, I know he wasn’t the killer. Derek saved my life, like a bazillion times at this point. I love him.”

Despite the bruises, the look on his face is quite clear with love oozing off of it. Like full on, ‘Disney princess, soulmate, found the one’-love. It’s a bit disgusting in Mike’s terribly single opinion.

“Well, then I want to see him,” Nikki demands. “You can’t tell us you got swept off your feet by a mysterious would be murderer and not expect us to want to see him.”

Stiles shoots them all a suspicious look, which is pretty rude all things considering, but Mike lets it slide in favor of satiating his curiosity. Then Stiles pulls out his phone, showing them a sequence of pictures that said more than words could.

It’s obviously their wedding day. They’re both in full suits, standing in a forest with the sunset hitting them, putting them in a glow of light. Derek is apparently a handsome, muscled man, who screams not bad boy as much as serial killer.

The first picture is pretty standard. They’re looking at each other, Derek’s bad boy vibe killed by the fact that he is smiling softly at Stiles, who is smiling back. Derek’s smile is toothachingly fond in a way that Mike feels in his chest.

In the second picture, the murder vibes are back in full force, with Derek glaring at Stiles, who looks like he’s saying something, his face smug like it’s an inside joke, his hands up to gesture like he always does.

Then, in the last picture, Stiles has Derek’s cheeks between his hand, face contorted in something Mike would call a coo, if Derek didn’t look like the kind of guy who would allow anything resembling a coo being directed at him. Though, Mike might have to rethink that assumption, because while Derek is raising one murderous eyebrow, the smile has returned again.

“I am his favourite annoyance,” Stiles announces proudly. “It’s wonderful how much bugging someone can do.”

And all of them would have guessed Derek was the one, who had pursued Stiles, but here Stiles is, telling them all about how he is a master at befriending people and Derek honestly needed someone to tell him how horrible he was at decorating or socializing, before fixing it for him.

Beside him, Nikki mutters: “Dear god, he has an ‘I can fix him’-mentality. We’re doomed.”

“I heard that!” Stiles exclaims indignantly, though he doesn’t deny it per se. But when Nikki’s soda arrives, it explodes in her face and Mike would almost suspect Stiles had something to do with it if he had to go off the smug look.

They drop the topic of Stiles injuries and apparent husband, for the evening, which Stiles seems grateful for at least, before catching him up on campus gossip. Still, they keep their eye on him and it’s hard to forget with his face all fucked up.

When they leave, Maya leans in and whispers to Mike: “Keep an eye on him for us, okay?”

He nods quickly, before hurrying after Stiles, who is yelling at him to hurry or he’ll drive back without him.

Mike also keeps his word, so when Stiles’ phone starts to ring, he pretends to be engrossed in his book, while secretly keeping an ear on Stiles’ conversation. He usually doesn’t listen in, unless something is so weird it breaks through his mental barriers, but he feels like this can be an exception.

“Hey there, big guy,” Stiles greets, voice much gentler than Mike ever remembered it being.

“Yeah, worrywolf, I’m fine,” Stiles tells whoever is on the other side. “Dad wouldn’t have let me drive otherwise and neither would you for that matter. You checked me yourself before letting me go, quite thoroughly I might add.”

And that last part is definitely an innuendo, dear god, Mike did not want to know that. However, it is confirmation that it’s Derek on the line, so he listens even harder.

“I know I overdid it, but no one got hurt except a few bruises on me,” Stiles argues. “And I get hurt even when I’m not in danger, you know how doors and the air are my biggest enemies. Come on, Derek. If it was bad, I would have told you. We promised remember? You made it part of our vows, because you are a complete softie.”

Okay, Mike isn’t going to lie, that’s actually pretty cute and he slightly hates that he’s becoming team Derek when all he knows is that he was (falsely) arrested for murder and married to Stiles, who comes running home when called on.

“I promise not to run into danger again,” Stiles tells Derek. “Well, I promise not to run needlessly into danger again and honestly one could argue that this time wasn’t needlessly, because you are my damsel in distress as much as you want to cast me in that roll.” A beat. “Yes, I will never let you forget the pool, we discussed this.”

“Yes, Derek, I always take care of my wounds,” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’ll even send you picture updates and call you every day. How does that sound?”

Oh god, Derek is actually a concerned boyfriend – excuse me, husband – who needs updates and called the day Stiles left because he was worried. Mike is never going to be able to tell the others that without it turning into a riot.

“Great, because I am going to bed,” Stiles says. “Midterms are coming up and while spending time with you is a hundred times better, I actually need to pass these if I ever want to get a degree. So, goodbye, I love you.”

A bit of silence, then a very love-filled chuckle: “Of course I’m going to think of you. I always sleep better with you, you know that. Now bye. Love you, again and always.”

Fucking hell, Mike is going to die of a toothache, caused by his happily married roommate, which is honestly where his life is at right now.

Though, Mike can honestly live with a weird roommate. It’s a source of entertainment and he now can rest knowing Stiles has someone watching out for him, preventing him from going off the deep end, which was an honest concern.

Stiles is weird, but with what Mike knows, he’s allowed to be a bit strange and he honestly doesn’t want to know more than he does.

~~

A/N:

Disclaimer: I am not shitting on parties, if you like them, go nuts. I just don’t drink and hate social interaction, so I wouldn't know how to write a good party scene even if I wanted to, lmao.

Idk how well it came through, but Stiles is magic and burned his hands while overdoing it in the fight he got injured in. He also totally exploded Nikki’s drink as petty revenge, his herbs are also related to magic.

#rr writing #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #sterek #derek x stiles #teen wolf stiles #derek hale #OCs #college student stiles stillinski

[ieroween1031]

My Thoughts in Real Time as I Watched Episode 13 of Love in the Air That Absolutely Nobody Asked For:

- IM SO EXCITED I CANT BREATHE

- I can’t believe this is the (second to) last time I’m gonna see this intro, I already want to cry

- Fucking Sig, I love him so much.

- Can we get a spin-off just dedicated to Sig?

- Rain, you nosy motherfucker. We love you for this.

- Also, I’m so totally here for Sky finally not holding back his emotions. Agreeing to give Pai a ‘prize’ if he wins? We love to see it.

- Prapai’s posting picture of Sky on his Instagram? I’m fucking dead.

- These episode names are too much. Can’t do it!

- Aww, little baby Sky.

- Sky smoking? Oof. I don’t care how gross it is, smoking is hot. Sue me.

- If that was really the first time Sky took a drag of a cigarette, he’d have coughed it all back out. The first few cigarettes as a new smoker suck, and they fucking hurt.

- On that note, don’t smoke, kids! It’s bad for you!

- I knew that it was gonna be Gun, and as soon as I saw him, I honest to god growled. Fucker.

- Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. (To myself and to Sky)

- Listen to your friends, Sky!

- Okay, smoking’s not hot when this fucking dickbag does it.

- This should go without saying, but for everyone out there reading this, don’t let anyone take advantage of you or hurt you unless you’re into it. Don’t go along with shit you’re not comfortable with just to prove that you love someone. Fuck them, fuck their feelings, protect yourself.

- Okay, I’ll get off my soapbox now.

- Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck I don’t wanna watch this.

- I can’t imagine how hard this was for Peat. The reaction video is gonna hurt.

- Fuck, I hope someone kills this fucking asshole.

- I know this is an emotional scene, but I’m losing my shit over Pai calling Sky ‘baby’

- THIS FUCKING COCKMONGER AGAIN?

- Take your fucking eyes off of him and wipe that smirk off your face, you shitbird.

- Fluffy PrapaiSky will be the death of me.

- I’m so proud of Sky for not being afraid and being able to admit how he feels. My sweet baby has come so far!

- The look of terror on Sky’s face when he didn’t know who was hugging him is just one giant foreshadow and I hate it.

- “My lucky star” 😭😭😭😭

- Payu is 1000% done with Pai’s lovesick ass like he probably wasn’t just as bad a few months ago.

- We need more Payu/Sky and Prapai/Rain. The boyfriend/best friend dynamic is so freaking cute.

- Every time I see that bastard, I get so fucking angry.

- I was gonna yell at Sky to run as soon as he saw Gun, but I remember when someone who looked like my abuser walked into my job and I shut down and just completely froze, so I understand why he couldn’t run.

- It’s absolutely killing me that Pai knows that Petch is a slimy little snake, but that he doesn’t know why.

- Yes, Sky! You stand up for yourself! Your man loves you, and don’t forget it!

- Rain, I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I kinda wanna smack you.

- Rain really is a gold(fish)en retriever, isn’t he? Head empty, no thoughts, attention span that only lasts two seconds, but damn it, he’s a good boy that’s trying his best.

- I feel nauseous watching Sky walk into that apartment.

- You fucking liars. I’m so angry.

- I’m so glad that Sky doesn’t believe them. It’s amazing to see how much he’s changed.

- Sky Protection Squad in full force, yes! Go rescue him!

- Where the fuck are Rain and Payu while Pai and Gun are in the bedroom? Are they just making tea with the other assholes that were in the apartment? Come on, guys.

- Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.

- Love him to death, but for the love of method acting, someone please teach Fort how to properly throw a punch.

- He should have killed him. And Payu should have hit Petch, too.

- I don’t know what hurts more, Sky being catatonic and not being able to cry, or Pai sobbing for him.

- He brought him home. Like, home, home.

- That picture of the two of them on Pai’s desk, I could cry.

- I don’t even have any more thoughts, I’m just happy that Gun and Stop are gone, all four of my boys are happy, and that Pai knows everything about Sky now.

- There are a bunch of scenes from the novel that I’m sad were not in the series, but that could be a whole separate post.

- WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY LIFE NOW?

- Aside from finish KinnPorsche (I still have two episodes left), catch up on Remember Me and Between Us, binge all the other shows I have on my To Watch list, and tear my hair out waiting for Just Say Yes.

- Excuse me while I rewatch the entire series over and over.

#ieroween1031 og #sawyer’s lita thoughts #love in the air #love sky #love storm #love in the air spoilers #love in the air ep13 #payu #prapai #rain #Sky #payu love in the air #prapai love in the air #sky love in the air #rain love in the air #prapaisky #prapai x sky #payurain #payu x rain #fort thitipong #peat wasuthorn #fortpeat #fort x peat #boss chaikamon #noeul nuttarat #bossnoeul #boss x noeul

[heyyy-its-kayyy]

I am..a little bit of a bitch tonight. And not because of Tara this time. Shocker right? No. No, it is not. Because rumpleforeskin is a special brand of irritating.

I may or may not have hurt one of the male nurses feelings, but. Honestly, he had it coming.

(I’d like to preface by making it known that not only is he very demeaning, but he’s also kind of creepy. The persistent type of flirting that doesn’t go away even when you’ve expressed your very clear distaste.)

Anywhosen.

I was up from my desk making the charge nurse coffee because she’s having a shit day. And I mean yeah, sure. My job is largely making sure I’m at the desk and available in the event of an emergency, assistance, or questions that the nurses may have. But that doesn’t mean that I stay at this desk for twelve hours. Hell no. I’d be absolutely miserable.

But anyway. I’m already not having the best brain day, right? (Intrusive thoughts are a bitch—) On top of that though, is the fact that I didn’t sleep well. And this man comes into the break room in an honest to God huff like I’ve morally wronged him.

I immediately take a deep breath. Because I know him. I know how he is. (Read: I know how much of a pompous dickbag he is) I know he’s going to be a complete moron and that this is likely a whole 2 minutes of my life I’ll never get back.

He has the audacity, okay? The sheer and utter audacity to look at me and go, “There you are. You’ve been away from your desk for like 3 minutes. I’ve been looking for you and you’re not where you’re supposed to be.”

Now. Keep in mind I’m not obligated to stay at the desk all night. Also keep in mind that if he would have just left the ‘not where you’re supposed to be’ part of that sentence off, I’d have been much nicer to him.

As it is, it went all through me the wrong way, but me being me, I still try to keep nice with him. So I’m like “I’m making coffee for Tonya, Fuhad. Is that a problem?”

This wankstain goes, “Perhaps it is.”

And maybe he’s joking, you know? Maybe he’s not. I don’t fucking know at this point. So I immediately assume an attitude because can you not? And I’m like, “Then I suggest that you perhaps get over it. You do realize that my job has an actual purpose, right? Like I’m not just here to sit pretty at my desk to be readily available for your every beck and whim. I’m not a call girl. Did you actually need something?”

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t need anything. 🙄

#i hate it heeeere #bitches be brazen #i’m not even sorry #i want to go hoooome #this hospital tests my patience #this job tests my inner serial killer #tea time with Kay

[winterzsurprise]

Man In The Mirror || SBI

Characters: Wilbur Soot, Tommyinnit, Technoblade (Allusions), Philza (Allusions).

Tags: Soulmate AU, Orphaned Tommy, Hurt/Comfort (?), Mentions of Death, Famous Musician Wilbur, Not Beta Read, Swearing, Crime Boys Centric.

Words: 3.7k

I haven't written in so long hence, no updates. But I'll post the other parts of Thorned Exhales later on in life, have this SBI short fic that I tried writing before shit went down.

This is inspired by that one tumblr post where in a Soulmate AU, you other half dies and shows up at your mirror, I forgot their blog name so if you know them, let me know :DD.

As usual, I accept criticism and welcome them as I want to do better with my writing :D, enjoy!

_____________

There’s a man in the mirror, Tommy observed.

He rubbed his eyes hard enough that they might fall from its sockets but there's actually a man in exchange for his reflection.

He already had a shit day after the clinic's nurse scolded him for dislocating a kid's jaw --- he still thinks the fucker deserved it --- to have his insanity proven by the hallucination in front of him was the icing on today's cake.

No matter how much he blinked, rubbed his eyes and pinch his arms.

There’s a man in the mirror, staring back at him and there's no denying that he's actually there.

The man was tall, gangly limbs hanging off to his sides almost longer than his torso if you count his hands, chestnut brown hair curling to themselves to form a puffy mess at his crown, the side of his head trimmed short enough for the eyes to focus on the mop of a hair he has. 

There were a couple of strands on his cloud fringe dyed in dark grey, like the old man he appears to be. Tommy thinks it's cool but he wouldn’t say it out loud.

He was dressed nicely, a thick and surely expensive trench coat with the hem stretching down to his knees, his yellow turtleneck, however was stained blue in shapes of fingerprints all around the fabric. The man looked well off and wasn’t that an irritating sight to see.

But what takes the crown was the bored look his eyes carried when Tommy met him first through his round glasses. 

Dark brown eyes overflowing with nonchalance and apathy, the dark bags under his eyes only solidifying Tommy’s impression of him.

A dickbag who dares to look more tired of the world than Tommy is. How dare this bastard hold those emotions in his gaze when he hasn’t tasted extreme poverty or live everyday with your life on the line?

“Hey, get that stupid look out of your face, bitch.”

People normally get scared of the supernatural but not Tommy Innett no, the world would have to follow his whims and bow before he’d think of ever following their rhythm.

Hell, his full name is Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett for fucks sake, how could he pussy out with such a name?!

“Who are you to order me around, stupid child?”

Tommy was floored, recoiling from the raw annoyance in the guy’s voice.

He dares to have that tone when he’s trespassing his property?! Tommy decided there on there that this man is the most annoying prick he has ever encountered, real or not.

“Tommy fucking Danger Strong Smart Innett, don’t you dare call me stupid when you look like a Jared named bastard!”

The man scowled before sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose to mutter something unintelligible before looking up again with an exasperated gaze at Tommy before shaking his head and tilting his head back to stare at the sky.

“God, why are you so cruel to me?”

“Because you’re a bitch!”

“Why do I even bother…” He looked away from Tommy to stare at the space beside him, looking at his shabby mattress. "Say kid, where are we? Rather, where are you?"

Tommy stared at the man, squinting with suspicion. The man whose eyes showed nothing but apathy and boredom intimidates him, Tommy admits to himself. He has seen many movies where killers held the same dullness in their irises for him to entrust the man with his address.

Seeing the distrust in his eyes, the man sighed in defeat. "I'm not gonna kill you man, I'm stuck in the reflection dimension or whatever this shit is."

"No, you're a figment of my imagination bitch, the other kids have them!" Tommy paused, remembering something. “But they’re walking around unlike you.”

At that, as if he realised something, the dullness in the man's eyes softened a little as he stared back at the child in front of him. There was a sad cloud of conflict that grew in his irises, as if he’s withholding a truth he couldn’t say, forbidden even.

Tommy doesn’t like how this man stared at him like that, stupid adults and their hero complex, always thinking their actions are for the best of the other party.

"Ok, I won't ask about your location but what about your name? Tommy was it?"

"Tommy Innett, the biggest and bravest man there is." He said with chest puffed out.

This got the man to chuckle lightly, pocketing his hands in his coat as he stepped forward and to the stray light escaping the closed blinds. 

"How about you boss man? Are you a ‘Jared’ like I thought you are?"

The man's face scrunched.

"Fuck no, kill me if I were to be named so poorly like Jared. I'm a Wilbur type of guy."

“Wilbur.” Tommy repeats, the name rolling of his tongue smoothly, as if it was meant to be spoken by it. “That’s such a shit name.”

“You are so fucking rude, why didn’t your mother swallow instead?”

“You–”

Wilbur looked around closely, eyes darting from one place to another. Unwilling to be subject to Tommy’s word explosion, he spoke once more.

"So are you alone in this room?"

Tommy scoffed, crossing his arms. "And why would I tell you that?"

First he comes to his room — or rather his mirror — unannounced and uninvited and now he’s prodding into his lifestyle in the orphanage, didn't his unwelcomed ass already done enough?

Seeing the scowl displayed clearly on Tommy’s face, Wilbur continued.

“Said this once and I’ll say it again, I’m not gonna kidnap you or some shit. The fuck am I even gonna need you for?”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know! Maybe you’ll sell me off or gut me and sell them to the black market!”

“I’m stuck in this stupid mirror, what even made you think I’d ever want to stay here with you?!”

That hurted him, was he so annoying that someone wanted to leave him the first time they met? It reminded him of the parents that returned him to the orphanage, every one of them annoyed by his antics. Wilbur’s words hammered itself deep into the creases of his brain, a constant reminder of the parent’s distaste for him.

A reminder of his failure to reach their standards.

“Shut the fuck up, you fucking bastard, you don’t know anything.” he spat out through gritted teeth, feet dragging himself out of the room and away from Wilbur.

___________

When Tommy came back, exhausted from the overlapping noises outside and from the chores the caretakers gave him, Wilbur was still in his mirror, sitting crossed legged and his head supported by the arm he propped on his thigh. He was dozing off, he looked peaceful when he’s not being an insensitive prick, Tommy thought as he gently closed the door behind him.

He doesn’t want to wake him up, already sensing the awkward air build up if the man ever roused from sleep.

On his tiptoes, he trudged to his bed as stealthily as he could, his senses tenfold sensitive as he crossed the room.

“I’m sorry Toms.”

Tommy’s soul jumped out of his skin Wilbur’s raspy voice sliced through the silence, his heart rapping against his ribcage as he snapped his head towards the adult fixing his sitting position, eyes opening as he stretched his arms above his head.

He doesn’t know what to respond, honestly, he didn’t expect him to even apologise like any other adults in the area. Wilbur continues to ruin the expectations he had for people once more, maybe he’s from a fantasy world where ‘sorry’s aren’t a luxury.

"Do you really mean that Wilbur?" He asked, turning to him.

The man seemed taken aback by his reaction, furrowing his eyebrows before answering.

"Of course Tommy, I was such an insensitive dick to you earlier. I-I didn't figure out that you're in an orphanage until one of the caretakers went in to change the sheets."

At that, he turned to his bed to see his sheets were indeed switched with a cleaner one. Pristine white and a little ragged but it works just fine, providing him enough heat at night.

It must be pathetic to Wilbur, who seemed to be a silver spooned bastard, if not fed with a golden one instead. With such a fancy get up and expensive watch and rings, Tommy's living condition must be pitiful.

Of all the imaginary friends he could have, it has to be a rich guy.

"I shouldn't have said what I said. So I'm sorry Toms." Wilbur continued, hanging his head low as he picked on the laces of his boots.

Tommy felt uncomfortable by the man’s genuine apology. This is a first, he thinks as he stares at him.

He could monetize this shit, act upset and maybe he could earn a useful favor in the future from the ghost, scare off some kids or steal something for him, the possibilities are endless!

"You hurt me, Wilbur."

"I know, I'll make it up to you at some point."

A smile grew on Tommy's face. "Really?"

"Of course, is there anything you want to know about me or the world?"

Forgiveness in exchange for information? Tommy couldn't help but wonder if it was worth it but then again, what can Wilbur offer him when he's trapped in a mirror with no way out like he said he is? 

Staring at his expensive and thick silver watch, Tommy wondered if the man ever travelled around the world? He must've been a guy fed with a silver spoon, he must've seen the stunning sights of Switzerland or maybe even Italy.

"Have you ever travelled abroad before?"

"Of course, I was a part of a band once."

Tommy's eyes widened. Wilbur is a musician? A popular one it seems, considering how he had international concerts, that's what big names do right? He's a huge music enthusiast, it was one of the things in life that motivates him. For a musician to stumble upon his door...

Tommy is curious about all things music. Maybe Wilbur can teach him a few tricks or so.

"What band were you in?"

There was a quick shift inside Wilbur's chestnut eyes before he spoke, hesitation and conflict, Tommy identified.

But why?

"That's the thing… I-I can't recall everything just yet." He motioned to his head. "I ca-can remember the basics but there's... empty spots in my memory."

"Oh." 

It was all Tommy could say, disheartened.

All of his hopes of learning thrown out of the window, he wanted to hide how upset he is but he couldn't stop it from seeping out from the walls he established around him.

Seeing this, Wilbur's heart clenched in its cage, the disappointment in the kid's eyes leaving a bitter taste on his tongue but it was better that Tommy stays in the bliss of ignorance, at least until he hits the proper age.

With a sigh, he opened his mouth once more.

"Well, I can still remember a few areas we visited during our tour. Wanna hear about them?"

___________

Birthdays are overrated, Tommy tells himself.

Birthdays are boring, he said as he stared at the parties hosted on the 2nd floor of the fast food restaurant downtown when he passed by. Birthdays are boring, he muttered as he silently wished a celebration for his once in this lifetime.

Orphans don't get the luxury of celebrating their birthdays, Tommy knew that himself but he couldn't help but wish there was someone who'd valued them as much as he does.

Everyday he wakes up, he tells himself I'm going to be adopted today. But they never do, the adults don't want someone who's brash and loud, what they all wanted was someone soft, someone they can easily order around. 

He could act docile and kind like they all want but Tommy doesn't like that.

He wants to be accepted for who he is, Tommy Danger Strong Smart Innett.

All of the adults ignored such a festivity except the man in the mirror.

It's been a few months since he appeared and Tommy doesn't know if he calls Wilbur a blessing or a curse.

The man was an enigmatic fella. One moment he's a menace, teasing and laughing with Tommy till his jaw aches then Wilbur's mood will abruptly drop into his misery and never-ending sadness even Tommy couldn't remedy with his usual antics.

Even then, he never forgets to worry about Tommy. His voice is soft, albeit rough from lack of use that day, as he reminds him about dinner, noticing him skip his meals throughout the weeks they've been together.

So when Tommy's smiles didn't reach his eyes, Wilbur knew something was up.

"Why do you look stupider today?"

Tommy scoffed. "Do you mean amazing? I think I look more handsome today."

"Your smile isn't reaching your eyes, what's happening?"

Tommy could lie and say it's just a bad day but he could never escape Wilbur's inquisitive eyes, it was almost annoying if it wasn't secretly endearing for him.

"Nothing much, big man just got bigger by a year."

Wilbur's eyes widened as he muttered unintelligible words under his breath before his voice grew. "Oh god, I'm sorry Toms."

"No worries, I'm used to it. Besides, you didn't know so it's understandable."

"Still, happy birthday man. How old are you now?"

"10 and yet I'm the biggest, strongest man in this building." Tommy puffed his chest as he stared up at Wilbur who's eyes crinkled with joy.

Then came a pause as Wilbur's eyes seemed to hold the same conflict of last time, swirling deep in his dark brown eyes as he pondered over something. Curiosity rose in Tommy at the shift in the man's mood.

But after a few ticks of silence, the man spoke once more.

"Is there anything you want, kid?"

Tommy laughed at that. There's no way someone trapped in the mirror just asked him what he wants for his birthday. It was more comical to him that Wilbur looked determined and dead-set on it.

How can he even leave the mirror and buy him a gift when he couldn't leave the place through all of those months spent together?

"How can you even buy for me man? Aren't you stuck in the mirror dimension or some shit?"

Wilbur scowled. "Just spit it out child, I have my ways."

Tommy knew he shouldn't let the tiny hope in his heart fester, it was impossible that he'd ever get what he wanted anyways.

Yet a tiny voice at the back of his head urged him to obey him, tell him what he wanted to taste or hold for so long.

It was Wilbur after all, what can that man do to ever harm him? He knew his address and name and nothing bad has ever happened to him the whole time they've been together.

If anything, Wilbur helped him in many things.

"I think I'd like a superhero comic book, I don't care what it's about and also McDonald's."

Wilbur nods, crossing his arms. "And what do you want from McDonald's?"

"A shit ton of fries, chicken sandwich and maybe a mcflurry?"

"Gotcha, go do your homework in the meantime." Wilbur said as he walked away from his sight, blending into the reflection of Tommy's bedroom.

He couldn't help but be curious why Wilbur held such a grim expression the moment he turned away. The man thinks he's quick and sly but Tommy saw how fast his smile dropped when he thinks his face is hidden from him.

He wondered how the man trapped in the mirror dimension could even fulfil his birthday wish, his questions leading him astray from his current tasks at hand.

He knows not to hope but he couldn't help the budding light from swelling in his heart. 

So he followed Wilbur's order to finish his homework and wait.

Soon enough, the sun has set and the moon took reigns over the sky along with its dark background. Every tick of the clock after it went over 5 pm sent pricks into his heart as his already small hope trickled away.

Tommy knew he shouldn't have hoped for anything. He must've looked ridiculous sitting cross legged in front of the mirror, waiting for the man to reappear as if he held the cure to every illness and he's about to die.

But before Tommy could even stand up from the mirror to resign to his bed for the night, Wilbur returns with a triumphant smile, hands in his coat pockets as he strode into the view like a man who won the lottery. 

There wasn't anything new about him other than his changed expression, Tommy wonders what happened.

"Where did you go, boss man?"

"That's a secret, but we gotta go somewhere quick alright? Bring your spoon with you."

Tommy followed, taking the spoon from his bedside table and waited for Wilbur to jump into the utensil's reflection before taking the blue coat at the end of his bed and leaving his room.

With not a single cent to his name, Tommy stole a spoon from the cafeteria months ago to take Wilbur to his maths lessons for help in understanding the lesson better.

He's still smart, sometimes geniuses need someone to explain lowly things to them taught through complicated methods and Wilbur was the only volunteer to do such a work.

"This is stupid Wilbur, where are we even going?"

"Let's go to the park, I told them to go there."

Them? Who are they?

The mystery of it all makes Tommy anxious. 

What is Wilbur planning? Is he finally going to kidnap him after barely escaping this horrible place?

"If you think I'm abducting you, fuck off. I'm not that evil man, I don't even have the face for it!" Wilbur exclaimed as if he heard his thoughts loudly.

"You wanted me to go to the park at night, it's sketchy as shit man!"

"Whatever, you'll get it once we arrive."

Even the suspicion planted in his heart wasn't enough to trample the excitement that thrummed in his veins. He doesn't know what he was getting enthusiastic for when Wilbur might, for all we know, be out for his head after that time Tommy teased him out of the mirror.

The park was silent save for the rustles of leaves, the trees and shrubberies glistened lightly under the moonlight from the small downpour earlier. It was mildly made obvious by the street lights on the shining cobble pathways. 

But what caught his attention is the man with his helmet standing under a lamp next to his parked bicycle, a paper bag in one hand as he typed into his phone with the other.

Tommy wouldn’t have found the situation more suspicious if the man didn’t have a familiar logo of a delivery company on the side of his helmet.

"Go Toms, that's yours."

He couldn't say anything. 

For once in his life Tommy couldn't utter a word out of his mouth, not even a random stream of bullshit left him like it usually does. He was stunned, shocked and thankful all at the same time.

He pinched himself but he isn't waking up from his dream.

Wilbur really did give him a birthday gift. The first ever.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Wilbur?"

"No, get it."

The man turned to him once Tommy was close enough, handing the bag to him.

It shocks him that the man didn't even hesitate in doing so.

Is he not worried that the parcel might fall into the wrong hand?

Tommy looked around, he remembers those laughs for gag shorts on the television. Surely, this must be a sick joke where a camera is hiding behind the tree or something, waiting for him to be thankful before they jump out to ridicule him.

Turning to Wilbur again, Tommy's vision blurred, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as he registered the man's soft gaze and genuine smile.

Maybe not all adults are foul and annoying. Maybe some people do adore him. Wilbur really does love him, care deeply for him, so much that it pains Tommy to think of.

Is it alright for him to have such a luxury?

"Delivery from anonymous, there's two spider-man comics there." Tommy still couldn't believe his ears. Did he really get a gift on his birthday? "Happy birthday mate, he said."

Even when the man was long gone into the night, Tommy stood there astounded, the weight of the bag more apparent than it should be. His chest hurts and his heart swells from the thought, a smile broke from his lips as tears trickled out of his eyes.

Was he dreaming? If he is, Tommy wished he'd never wake up.

Seeing tears stream from his face, Wilbur's heart ached in its cage, his arms aching at his sides, he wanted to hug Tommy. Comb his hair back as he whispered reassurance into his head. Never has he felt so helpless as he does now, he wants so much but can't have any.

It was maddening but he shouldn't put a damper on their mood, it's a good day.

So Wilbur smiled and said. "Happy birthday Toms, I'm glad I met you."

___________

Even after his birthday surprise, Tommy’s opinion of Wilbur never changed

The man in the mirror is as annoying and weird as he is helpful.

Wilbur is smart, being an adult with more experience than him, and taught him how to count and do his basic maths assignments. When there’s problems that arose from the shelter, Wilbur would tell him his own solution, explaining the hard words with care and playful teasing.

Surprisingly, Tommy understands it better even if the man fucked around than a teacher who ironed a stoic expression and wielded a book.

He was brotherly in his own way, never fleeing from the reflections around the center to watch Tommy go around his daily chores and warn him if the head cook is about to enter the cafeteria when he goes to sneak a cookie out of the jar.

Wilbur is his buddy, his shadow.

They were attached to the point of Tommy sneaking out a spoon just so he could have Wilbur hiding in his pockets. The adults will scold him later on but he could care less. He wants the man in the mirror to see the world with him. 

During the whole year with Wilbur in his pockets, Tommy has entered as many foster homes and left as much. It was embarrassing every time he was sent back to the orphanage, a reminder of his failure to reach a family’s vision of a perfect child.

Whenever the night is cold and dark with little sobs wrecking his small body, Wilbur would urge him to bring a spoon beside him, his eyes darkened with defeat and sadness as he whispered into his ears, offering warmth with his words till Tommy falls soundly asleep, a silent wish of feeling a phantom touch caressing his cheeks supporting the man’s comforting voice.

The whole year with Wilbur felt like magic, a stream of light after years of darkness and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Tommy wanted nothing more but to stay with his brother figure, although he wouldn’t say it out loud.

But today seems like a different kind of day.

On the morning before his 11th birthday, Tommy found himself staring at a new reflection on the mirror.

But unlike the gloomy cloud on top of Wilbur, this man had an aura of danger oozing off of his mildly muscular body, wide shoulders draped in white silk long sleeves and a beige pair of trousers hiding his well-toned thighs with a long, horizontal scar crossing his nose bridge and ending under his nonchalant eyes to boot.

He oozes nothing but pure masculinity.

Only if he didn’t wear those stupid rectangular glasses and had long bubblegum pink hair then he would’ve been truly intimidating.

The epitome of scary.

“Who the fuck are you supposed to be?!” 

#tommyinit mcyt #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #dream smp #sbi au #soulmate au #platonic soulmates #crimebois #technoblade fics #philza minecraft #philza fics #tommyinnit fics #hurt/comfort

[goongiveusnothing]

Did you see the newest article about HO breakup? Harry blames the kids. After 2 years, he decided he don’t want to play their daddy. What an insensitive dickbag. Why not just say drama is the reason. Those kids are going to read that someday. It’s not their fault but they’re going to think that because their mom’s bald asshole boyfriend put it out there.

of course, it's the NYDailynews, but it sounds plausible.

it's totally believable to me that all along harry has thought, "fuck them kids." and if the truth is that the fighting between olivia and florence involved him at some point, then he's such an asshole acting like he hates it when it's in the media, when he was the one who started it between them.

#harry styles #olivia wilde #holivia #florence pugh

[scp-10000]

I just remembered something.  Sometimes people are gonna see a character interact with someone being a dick to someone else, and even if the first character is not, the viewers may forget that and assume they are that thing.

The example I am using is one of my own characters bordering on sona, and is also a bit gory.  I do not know why I sometimes get gory when writing supernatural beings, but if you click read below, proceed with caution.

So Star is an Eldritch Space Dragon sent to Earth.  For some strange reason after coming to this planet they learn their digestive system can not even be exposed to vegetation without the offending plant matter violently ejecting itself from their digestive system and punching a hole in flesh.  Somehow this same reaction is not produced when eating meat and fungi.

They go to a cafeteria and see someone eating vegan food.  Star doesn’t give a fuck about the vegan cause they’re not being a dick and just trying to eat.  What they do care about is the dick bag who is harassing them for being vegan and saying they’ll force feed meat.  Star tells the asshole to go fuck off.

Now some people, whether they simply forgot that Star is more than likely the eldritch dragon version of violently allergic to vegetables, or because they don’t know all the facts cause they’re only hearing about Star from this one incident and don’t give a flying fuck to go out and learn them are probably gonna assume Star is also vegan and is only defending the vegan cause they’re a fellow vegan.

Some people are in for a violent reminder of one or two parts of Star’s character when the dickbag tests Star’s patience and they crack their bottom jaw clean down the middle and their full mouth splits down their abdominal relieving structures of circular saw teeth spinning ready to tear chunks of flesh from the asshole if he keeps it up.  Unfortunately, I feel like the only people who would even get this warning are the people who just forgot and not the arseholes who don’t care about having all the information and just wanna be arseholes.

#cw gore #i may have just needed to rant about an eldritch space dragon taking an asshole down a few pegs #but i hope it was at least fun to read #original character #original character discussion

[bepractical]

Kin: Season 1, Episode 9, Part 3

It’s here! My final recap for season 1 of Kin. 

Before I get into it, a little ramble. I first watched Kin as free in-flight entertainment on a plane from NYC to Dublin. I made it halfway through the third episode. By the time Michael killed Caolan Moore, got locked in the bar, freaked out and possibly triggered a seizure, I was done. It was too much to take in on public transit. Hours later, safely ensconced in my Dublin hotel, I hunted down some episode recaps to spoil the hell out of me until I was able to sate my fears, re: Michael having a seizure in the middle of a hit. Then I discovered RTÉ player and watched the remaining episodes from my phone. Yes, I spent my first day in Ireland getting over my jetlag and watching Kin. Worth it. 

Sometime later, I got the idea to do some recaps. There’s a real dearth of lengthy episode recaps out there, especially for shorter run shows. I started making them for me and still do, though I’m always delighted when people interact with my posts. Now the season is finally coming to an end and I need a new project. All that blabber to say, I’ve had a good time, and I’m gonna ride this wave of productivity right on into Daredevil. So if you like Charlie Cox but sassier, with tighter clothes, morals and occasional fights in hallways, stick around. I can't promise I'll be timely but I'm committing to the first season at least, though I hope to do the whole series.

Now you may be thinking, 'But bepractical, why not do recaps for Treason? That’s a short run show with little coverage.' The truth is, I read a spoiler for Treason on accident and my heart is not prepared to watch. Maybe one day.

Back to Kin! For previous parts see the masterlist here. Now onto the recap, where shit is going down! And by shit I mean, Eamon. And by down I mean, to the floor of a parking garage somewhere in Spain.

At the compound, Amanda arrives home and books it over to Birdy’s for a debrief with Birdy and Frank.

She tells them Eamon is down for peace, but he wants Eric. So that’s decided then. Birdy is 50 flavors of shocked but Frank is pissed. He correctly deduces that Amanda is at least partially responsible but I don’t care because seriously, fuck Frank.

Remember, Amanda has no intention of going through with this deal. The plan was always to kill Eamon. This charade has two purposes I can see: 1) to give Amanda and Anthony safe passage to attend Jamie’s mass and 2) to fuck with Frank. Frank has shown the bare minimum of consideration for Amanda and Jimmy’s loss. I wager Amanda wanted Frank to have a taste of what it feels like to lose your son. 

Amanda: It’s hard, even considering the idea of losing a child. You can try to imagine how painful it’s gonna be, how empty you’ll feel, how much you’ll blame yourself every day for what happened, but you won’t even get fucking close. But you’re the boss Frank. I’m sure you’ll do what’s best for everyone.

Go go go Amanda! She walks out of there with the hint of a smirk on her face while Frank overreacts like the overcompensating dickbag he is. He accuses Amanda of conspiring against him and even Birdy gets fed up. BIRDY. 

Birdy: Stop being so fucking pathetic. ‘You’re the boss’ then show it! Stop stamping your feet and shouting and do something! 

Birdy truly speaks for us all. She reasons that Eamon was always going to want a head, and if Frank wants to save Eric he’s going to have to do something. Good luck with that, sister.

Meanwhile, at the jail, Eric is trying to save himself. Good boy! Nikki's come to see him in the jail infirmary, where he’s recovering from beating himself up and where there are no cameras. I’m so proud! 

The two have a hushed conversation where Eric apologizes for not thinking of Nikki more. That’s good. Then he asks her to help find the eye witness who saw him do the shooting and to set up a hit on them. He needs her help but he wants her hands clean so he tells her to leave all the details of the hit up to Kem. KEM. Poor Eric's so far out of the loop, he may as well be in Mars. I am curious to see if and how this bites him in the ass next season. Nikki agrees and I’m so happy to see someone in this family other than Amanda do some plotting. It’s not much but I’ll take it.

Side note but apparently the cost of a hit is 20K, with 10K on top, when the job is done.

Amanda and Anthony show up for mass at the church where Jamie’s funeral was held. Amanda’s parents are there. I have this fear they’re going to kill Anthony next season, some kind of full circle bologna, but man do I hope I’m wrong. Look at this sweet face.

I’m gonna fly over most of these church scenes, which are cut throughout the next few scenes, where we catch up with Frank, Jimmy and Michael. I’ve read the mass portion is an homage to a scene in The Godfather Part II, which I have never seen. It’s possible it would have read more heavy handed if I had seen it but the gist is, the mass signals a transformation for Amanda, both in terms of her devotion to the family and her role as acting head. More on that later. 

Back at the compound, Birdy’s cleansing fire has sputtered out. She’s just a sucker for her brother, I guess. She offers to call Eamon and see what other deals can be made while Frank pouts on the couch. 

In the wilds of Ireland, Kem and Con meet clandestinley to discuss Kem’s supposed tip on Kinsella whereabouts. It’s a trap! 

Jimmy comes up on them, face covered and gun out, but dude cannot shoot. Con hits the gas and Kem, like a boss, grabs the wheel and forces him to crash. 

Con hops out of the car and tries to run but Jimmy’s finally found his trigger finger and shoots him till he runs out of bullets. Kem freaks and hightails it out of there. Even behind his mask Jimmy is horrified at himself.

Back at the compound, sad boi Frank snorts an entire handful of coke. For the first time in like, six episodes, I feel a little bit of pity for him. He was just not equipped to deal with this situation. 

While Frank’s od’ing, Birdy is on the phone with Eamon. She begs for a compromise that doesn’t involve Eric’s death and Eamon spills the beans on his deal with Amanda.

This whole thing frustrates me so much. It doesn’t matter if Amanda hypothetically chose Eric to die, she had no intention of honoring her deal with Eamon in the first place. Also, Eamon makes it clear that Amanda chose which Kinsella to die, which means someone was dying to appease Eamon. What better option is there? It’s just a cheap way to set up conflict with the family next season and I really hope they blow past it. 

Birdy runs inside to tell Frank that he was right, Amanda was out to get Eric all along! She finds him passed out on the carpet in a puddle of blood, from the nosebleed he got from his handful of coke. It’s pretty gnarly. She tries to wake him and calls emergency services. As much as Frank frustrates me I like this sibling relationship. I'm not sure if it's worth keeping Frank alive but I'd also like to see some development on his part. His spiral into ineptitude deserves a recovery.

And then, my favorite thing that may or may not have been intentional in this episode. We flip back to the church right as the priest announces, 'This is the gospel according to Matthew,' then immediately flash to the airport with Eamon. Guess who’s on his way? It’s Michael, aka Charlie Cox, aka MATTHEW MURDOCK! Intentional or not, you decide.

Eamon’s heading out of the airport with his luggage and his ex-wife’s birthday gift when he runs into Man Bun. He’s come to take Eamon directly to his dad, Eamon’s supplier, to discuss all that missing drug money.

Eamon’s visibly freaked but has no choice but to go with Man Bun and his flunky. 

They enter the parking garage and are almost to their car when Man Bun and his flunky go down with matching single shots to the head. Eamon turns around in shock and the camera spins to reveal Michael. Heck yeah! 

Eamon tries to plead his case- Amanda made a deal! The feud is over! Michael, cool as cucumber tells him Amanda lied.

He shoots Eamon right in the eyeball. Man oh man, did he deserve it. There’s a quick flash as Eamon falls of the woman from his vision that I still don’t understand and then he’s gone. 

That’s the stuff.

There’s a few danglers in this scene that I’m guessing next season will address. First off, Michael just killed three men in an airport parking garage. Yes, he was wearing a hat, and he left his gun behind (which is apparently The Move when you’re an assassin) but that place had to be chockfull of cameras. For now I’m choosing to believe that Michael is a good assassin who knows what he’s doing and didn’t put himself at unnecessary risk. We’ll see how that plays out next season. Second, Michael killed Man Bun, the son of a big time drug lord. They can handwave killing multiple people in a heavily monitored public space in the middle of the day, but they can’t handwave that. 

In the wilds, Jimmy pukes his guts up before setting fire to Con’s body and all the rest of the evidence. There’s a shot of a white sneaker that is definitely not Con’s. At first I was worried it was Kem’s, then I thought it might have been Jimmy’s. Until further notice I’m calling it an error. 

Cut to Michael leaving the garage. 

Let's take a minute to discuss how the two Kinsella brothers react to murder. Jimmy-the-softy, who had never murdered anyone before, threw up immediately. He scrambled through the clean up but that initial, visceral reaction got me. I really hope he doesn't lose his softness next season. It's the best part of his character, I think. Meanwhile, Michael showed no emotion whatsoever. Not a hint of enjoyment, for finally getting to kill the man who had terrorized him and his family, HIS DAUGHTER, for so long, but also no doubt or regret. This complete detachment is alarming and very Michael. The show has blugeoned us over the head again and again with the fact that this life is not good for Michael. He'll do what needs to be done but he gets no joy out of it.

Finally, Amanda lights a candle, presumably for Jamie.

Her mom approaches her with a plan her and her husband concocted, Operation: Get Amanda Out of This Damn Crime Family Already. Unforunately it’s too little, too late. Amanda’s a Kinsella now.  

And that's all folks! The first season of Kin. What do you think? Any thoughts or feedback? I may do one more wrap up post before I move on, we'll see. Otherwise, I hope to see you in Season 2!

#kin amc #amanda kinsella #michael kinsella #jimmy kinsella #birdy goggins #frank kinsella #a whole lotta kinsellas #con doyle #eamon cunningham #charlie cox #clare dunne

[our-flag-means-death-ao3feed]

to have and to hold

by ShowMeAHero

“You look just like her,” the stranger says, with a tilt of his chin towards the barkeep, “and she’s been a fucking tease all night.” His eyes skim down, and Stede’s skin prickles, defensive alarm shooting up his spine with clammy bolts of fear and anger. “Mouth’s just like hers, too, isn’t it, then? Could be just as good, yeah?”

Stede’s fingers tighten on his brandy glass, his other wrist still confined in this man’s grip, and is just preparing to smash it directly into this fellow’s temple when the stranger suddenly stumbles sharply to the side. A dark blur slams him down and away with a blow that breaks his nose in an explosion of splashing blood, snarling, “Don’t fucking touch him,” and Stede’s heart finds itself in the back of his throat at the sound of Ed’s thundering voice.

  for ofmd kinktober, day 15: jealousy + public/semi-public + voyeurism!!

Words: 6762, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 15 of a secret garden [our flag means death kinktober 2022]

Fandoms: Our Flag Means Death (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Stede Bonnet, Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Lucius Spriggs, Israel Hands, Black Pete (Our Flag Means Death), Original Characters, Frenchie (Our Flag Means Death), Wee John Feeney, jim jimenez (mentioned) - Character, oluwande boodhari (mentioned), Ivan (mentioned), Roach (mentioned), Fang (mentioned), Buttons (mentioned), The Swede (mentioned)

Relationships: Blackbeard | Edward Teach/Stede Bonnet

Additional Tags: OFMD Kinktober, Kinktober, Established Relationship, Married Couple, I'll Marry These Pirates A Million Times Before I'll Let This Company Die, Not Beta Read, Explicit Sexual Content, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Jealousy, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Protectiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Sexual Assault, Jealous Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Possessive Blackbeard | Edward Teach, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Stede Bonnet, Oral Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Protecting and Defending Lovers from Philandering Aggressive Dickbags, Idiots in Love, Angst, Light Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dom/sub Undertones, Mild Voyeurism, References to Past Bad Life Experiences Re: Pleasing Others, Smut, Rain Sex, References to past trauma

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/42408996

#Our flag means death #ofmd

[erodasfishtacos]

Ahh, I love your vampire!Harry and I read how they met and I was wondering how he reacted afterwards when she just said, “I Bloody Knew It!” Did he just walk away and not talk to her for a while again? Did he follower around, a la Twilight style? 😂 I’m just interested in how they both reacted after that.

He hates the human even more now that she knows.

She is an annoying, overly-confident, idiot.

She teases him like a matador in the ring with a bull but doesn’t even have the wits about her to sense fear that he could kill her before she could blink.

He does take to sitting next to her in class, admittedly always paying more attention to her than the class.

When she plops down one day with a Starbucks ice tea, she looks over and says, “Wanna sip? Oh wait, it’s not the blood of your enemies.”

He snarls but has to resist flashing her his deadly fangs.

YN just smirks and takes a sip.

-

YN had been staring intently at her phone all class, mindlessly playing a game of candy crush with her tongue poked out to the side.

Harry hisses lowly and lightly knocks the phone out of her hand until it toppled onto the desk with a clatter, “Pay attention, little human.”

—

When YN is sitting in the library alone, it’s nearly eleven at night with drowsy eyes and a heart rate signaling she’s close to slumber, it pisses Harry off.

(He may have tracked her scent throughout campus like he did most nights)

He storms over to the table, waking her fully with a fist on the table, and blackened eyes as he stares down with anger.

“Whassit?” She slurs out, unfazed by the demon in front of her as she knuckles her eye.

“It is nearly a new day and you are asleep in a public library. It is unacceptable and you must go home now,” Harry orders with a deep frown, already gathering her books for her.

“Can’t,” YN mumbles with a wrinkled forehead and grumpy pout as she sits up.

“How can you not go home?” Harry hisses, god he wanted to bite her - make her submit just a little.

YN makes a disgruntled face at him, “My roommate accidentally took both my keys and hers last night. She won’t be home until tomorrow morning.”

“Why are humans so stupid?” The vampire wonders out loud as he swings her backpack over his shoulder.

“Why are vampires such dickbags?” She shoots back and smirks when he growls at her.

Mate her. Mate her. Mate her.

He really wishes he could shut that off.

“C’mon,” Harry chooses to ignore the name-calling and grab her warm wrist - felt so good against his cold temperature.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Home.”

“You’re grip is too rough!” She yelps, trying to wriggle away.

“Shush up, pest,” Harry replies dismissively as he tugs her from the library.

-

“How did you know where my apartment was?” YN asks curiously, watching as Harry shapes his normal blunt human nail into a claw to turn the small lock.

Harry doesn’t answer, opening the door for her, and following in behind.

He crinkles his nose, it was so small and he adverted his eyes from the chair in her bedroom that had a skimpy pair of panties hanging from it.

Harry catches her rubbing her wrist, he frowns deeply when he realizes that his touch had been too tight - despite him trying to be gentle.

YN startles when he appears next to her and thumbs over the irritated skin, “M’very sorry, creature. I did not intend to hurt you.”

She chuckles, her mood still light as she says, “Kiss it and make it better.”

“Don’t tempt me, little human,” Harry warns as she places her warm, sweet smelling wrist to his snarled lips.

“Kiss,” She insists, gasping when his lips softly brush the skin and it feels like a kinetic spark of energy.

It’s because she’s going to be my mate.

“Har-“ YN starts to speak, breath being knocked from her.

He can’t control himself, his mouth finding hers with intent as he continued to hold onto her delicate wrists.

Right when she starts kissing him in return, he steps back with dark black eyes, “I have to leave.”

And he left before she could even blink.

“Fuck dickbag,” She sighs fondly.

-

“Are you following me, dickula?” YN spins on her heel finally, staring at the dark forest off to the side of the running path.

She hears a hellish growl - it rumbles the leaves and shakes the trees.

No one emerges but a demonic voice hisses, “You shouldn’t be jogging at night alone. Y’stupid little pest.”

YN rolls her eyes as she picks up her pace again, “Stop being a creep and come out of the bushes and walk with me.”

Silence again. Dickbag.

She’s a bit trickier than he gives her credit for because she fake stumbles like she tripped over a rock and yelped.

He’s in front of her instantly, strong hands on her waist to stabilize her, and he can’t help but let his nose nuzzle into her neck.

“Y’liar,” Harry accuses, making her shudder when he licks at her jugular vein.

YN shrugs unbothered, offering up her neck for him to lathe on, “Just wanted to see your beautiful face.”

“Shut up, please,” Harry snaps, melting just a little bit, and growling happily when she comes to wrap her warm palms around his biceps.

-

#vamprry #vampire!harry blurbs #vampire!harry masterlist #vampire!harry

[jamesbuchannan]

What, Like It’s Hard? | prologue | j.b.b

Summary: Inspired by Legally Blonde. When Y/N’s boyfriend breaks up with her instead of proposing, and is cruel while he does it, she takes matters into her own hands. What she finds along the way will just be the cherry on top. 

a/n: i already had the prologue written up when i had posted about the title and as soon as i saw it i was hooked. thank u @spookyparadisesheep​ for the suggestion :) also, i didn’t wanna title this legally blonde bc (1) it obviously isn’t as inclusive and i want as many people as possible to fit into this story and (2) this is not going to be exactly like legally blonde, it is just inspired by it (i will be pulling some scenes). lmk if u wanna be tagged!

pairings: female!stark!reader x male!oc!kyle, eventually bucky x female!stark!reader. i am making this a female reading insert because of the social elements i want to involve in this story.

warnings: no bucky yet, dickbag boyfriends, oh yeah and cursing lol

“Wait, so you’re dumping me because I’m not going to law school?”

-

He’s so gonna propose. He has to, right? He visited his mom, she had to have given him the ring. You wore the prettiest dress you own; your makeup looks phenomenal. He has to propose.

“Don’t even stress, Y/N. You guys are a power couple and if he for some reason doesn’t propose tonight, he’ll do it soon,” your best friend encouraged, insisted, “and you look so hot.”

It eased your mind a little bit, but your hands continued to shake.

You and Kyle have been dating for almost two years, and law school was just around the corner for him. He has a timeline. Undergrad, masters, engagement, law school. It was the timeline for his entire family. It’s time for the engagement.

The restaurant is nice, candle lit with flowers in the center of the metal table.

“So, honey, there’s something we should talk about,” he says as he sets his champagne down.

“I completely agree,” you’re finding it hard to contain your smile. He was definitely about to propose.

“Good, good,” he adjusts in his seat, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, reflecting, while preparing for Harvard. And I really think we should –”

“Yes!” “Break up.”

“Wait what?”

“I need to get serious. I mean, my brother is marrying a Vanderbilt. I don’t think our relationship would be the best for me and my future. If I want to be a partner in a law firm by 30, I need to may someone serious.”

-

“Wait, so you’re dumping me because I’m not going to law school?”

“Babe, it’s not because of law school, you just don’t take your future seriously. I mean, you want to be a kindergarten teacher, that’s not really serious, honey.”

“Are you fucking serious!? You’re so pretentious. Who cares if she’s a Vanderbilt? I’m a Stark! And how is my career path any less important than yours? I am just as smart as you.”

“Really, honey? Vanderbilt-rich and Stark-rich are two very different things. And you couldn’t get into Harvard if you prepared for it since birth.”

taglists:

what, like it’s hard?: n/a

master: @criminallyautumn​

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #BUCKY AU #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes #james buchannan barnes #james buchannan #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky x stark!reader #legally blonde inspired #bucky barnes au #marvel au

[sibsteria]

all the angels [cast & angels & chuck]

prompts: ''run away with me''

summary: [bare with me, this is a long summary and concept] throughout the decades, y/n and the angels lived in harmony, her being the only being with powers on par with chuck. an immortal life with your angels sounds good, doesn't it? something goes wrong and y/n gets projected into the world of the spn actors. she had never met god, despite being made for the angels because of him. the thing is, she doesn't remember anything of her life with the angels and this messes with reality. the world of reality, along with y/n, are all magically convinced she has always been in their universe as a fellow cast mate. what happens when most of her favourite angels and a certain hellish man team up to collect her in the middle of a con?

characters: Rob Benedict, Richard Speight Jr, Mark Pellegrino, Misha Collins, Mark Sheppard, Sebastian Roche, Chuck Shurley, Gabriel, Castiel, Lucifer, Balthazar, Crowley

warnings: I dreamt something along the lines of this and it's just pure crack, I apologise, fluff, angst, everyone is single because it gets weird. I wrote this at 4am :/

---

''So let's talk about Y/n's character! She hasn't been explained too much but we know her backstory.'' Wow, thank you, Mark Sheppard.

''Well, I'm pretty sure the fans already know.'' I shrug, but a glare from the man before me makes me roll my eyes.

''Come on, don't leave them in the dust, also sharing a name with your character is weird right?'' He teases me, I resist the urge to walk over and playfully slap him.

''Fine. She was created by God to please the angels in whatever way they needed, with her consent obviously. She creates a connection with Gabriel and their connection become the focus of her life, until she meets Crowley-'' I look over at Sheppard and paint a fake scowl on my face, sending the audience into light laughter. ''-who is also vying for her attention, but as you all know, she had been killed off at the end of the last season. Y'all didn't see that blinding golden light and her disappearing act?'' I raise my eyebrow at the crowd. They murmur amongst themselves.

''Are you sure she was killed off?'' Richard snickers from next to me. ''What if her dear Gabe just snapped her away for some-'' He wags his eyebrows to out fans. ''-angel on paragon action.''

''It's literally in the script shut up- or you know, believe this idiot.'' I smile, showing I meant no offense

''Scripts change! You know that!'' Misha reasons, aggressively.

''I suppose so.'' Leaving audiences in an unsolved mystery is the fun of cons.

---

Sitting in the green room, it's sweaty and warm after the panel. We are instantly greeted by our colleagues awaiting their next instructions such as Mark Pellegrino, Sebastian Roche and Rob Benedict.

''Welcome back, you little bastards.'' Sebastian's voice rings throughout the room, I groan, faceplanting onto the couch where Rob sat, fiddling with an acoustic guitar.

We sat, talked, ate, I napped, yknow the usual.

---

''So, do you think they will bring you back for the next season?'' Misha asks, I bite my lip and answer him.

''I have no idea, no one has said anything so maybe not. I'll be joining our widdle Kings of Con if not.'' I give a baby voice when talking about the couple that is R2.

''Hey!'' Rob's voice wavers in his distinct little way.

''Rude of you to call me little.'' Richard winks and I shoot gag at him, he feigns a frown.

''In other news-'' Mark Pellegrino's cut-in is interrupted by a blinding golden light, surrounding the room. I grip onto Rob's arm as the ground begins to shake, burring my head into his chest, I cover my eyes from the light. He holds me back just as tight, hiding in the comfort of my shoulder. One of many weird, intimate moments with him that makes people believe we are together.

A loud, pitched, sound rattles around us. A few of us scream in pain but I just whimper and move closer into Rob.

Suddenly, everything stops and stills.

I can't force myself to move.

''What the fuck?!'' I hear Misha, making me not want to move even more.

''Ha! Look, she's cuddling you. Awe.'' I hear Richard's voice, but it wasn't him, it didn't sound like him. I pull myself away from Rob's chest and look at the scene unfolding.

'What the fuck?'' I whisper, repeating Collins' earlier comment. Stood here, a few feet in front of us are Gabriel, Balthazar, Castiel, Crowley, Lucifer and Chuck. Did I miss something?

''Not happy to see us, darlin'?'' Gabriel smirks, a foot of his approaches me, I look at them in confusion and shock.

''W-What's going on?'' That is the first time I have ever heard Pellegrino stutter.

''We should probably talk...'' Chuck wavers his hands to us all, motioning us to listen to him.

''So, uh, Y/n here? She's our Y/n, from our reality and we kinda want her back.'' Gabriel shuffles his weight between each of his feet, I'm in too much terror to even speak, so is everyone else.

''You hear him, dickbags? We want her back.'' Lucifer crosses his arms, staring dead into Pellegrino's soul, presumably to make him uncomfortable.

''I don't understand-'' I stop myself, leaving it at that.

''Wait, do you not remember?'' Gabriel looks at me, broken eyes reflect his inside pain.

''Of course she doesn't, you bollock! Can't you see the look on her face?'' Crowley rolls his eyes but for some reason I can sense his true sadness.

''I will explain, better.'' Castiel takes a step towards me. ''You are Y/n Divine, our Divine, your the celestial from our existence. Your our...?'' He struggles to find the words, Balthazar answers for him. Not the lot of explaining I need there, Cas.

''Our collective soulmate, so to speak.'' He nods.

''Yeah, that's who I am in Supernatural but- this isn't the show, this is reality. I gotta be dreaming, oh my God-'' Chuck interferes (doesn't he always).

''That's me.'' The nervous laugh from the bearded almighty almost makes me laugh, almost, but the situation was too real for it. ''Would it help if I...showed you?'' He says, unsure of his choice of words.

For some reason, I pour my trust into him, and walk towards the clone of my almost boyfriend, I wished.

''Mind if I show all of you?'' Chuck asks, before ignoring some of the 'no's in the room and he snaps, bringing us into a dream state.

Scenes flow through our brains, ones that weren't in the show

---

Dressed in a white kaftan with golden afflictions, there was Y/n, lay in the greenest of grass. And next to her? Gabriel the Archangel. Almost in a Bella-Edward meadow position, the two looked into each other, reading one another's soul.

''Run away with me.'' Gabriel whispers, lighter than air.

''What?'' She snaps out of her dreamy daze.

''Let's leave, you don't need any other angel that isn't me.'' This breaks her heart, although Gabriel was her favourite and the one she had a special connection with, she had a duty to remain near the other angels.

''I want to-'' Gabe's heart lifts but sank soon after. ''-but you know I can't. I wasn't created to defy my purpose, I would cease to exist if I did.'' A tear rolls down her cheek, the light from the fading sun rested gracefully on her skin.

''I know. Oh, what was I thinking? My father will come after us and- I would rather now think about what he would do to us, to you.'' He looks away from her to relish in his pain.

''Don't be like that, my little Aurelian enchanter-'' She mentions the colour of his golden wings, which lay across the ground behind him, a beautiful sight. ''-the time will come where no angel needs me, then I can devote myself to you, only you.'' She mumbles, pressing a sure kiss to the peak of his nose. He huffs in a peaceful array of emotion.

''At least you don't kiss any other of my brothers or estranged family.'' He nudges back at her, nose to nose.

---

''That was sickening to watch.'' Pellegrino chuckles into the dark abyss of our voices, unable to see each other but still recognising each other within the blindness.

''Shall I show you another one?'' A rhetorical question from the Lord from above, as he whisks us into another memory.

---

She sat on a bench, clad in elegancy, the world was still new and beaming. New angels were being created, not all of them needed a divine celestial to aid them, so she spent her days watching the creations live. The bees harvesting pollen from the flowers was one of her favourite sights.

She felt an angelic presence appear next to her, but a new one, an unknown one.

''Who might you be?'' She asks, not tearing her eyes away from the fuzz of a creature.

''I am Castiel.'' Short and stat, seems like the kind of being he was, without a vessel he could be read more easily.

''No vessel yet, I assume?'' She looks towards the beam of light beside her.

''No, not yet. I hardly think there's a need for such a thing.'' His voice was the most beautiful she had heard, of all the angels, no vessel and no front made him so much more enticing.

''Well, nice to meet you. You're wings...they're black? Pretty though, new as well.'' She smiled at Castiel, his aura positively increased, the interaction helping them both. Just a simple amount of time in company can help an angel.

''Thank you.''

---

''So that's Castiel?'' Misha seems uneasy.

''Would you like to see the encounter between her and his vessel?''

---

She sat, with Balthazar, just grooming his beautiful wings. An act she did for her most favourite angels.

''Have you seen Castiel's vessel?'' He smiles up at her, in his own vessel.

''Not yet but I am excited though, from the comments I'm hearing, he is a most handsome fellow.'' She brushes past a certain spot, making Bal shiver in delight, not in a sexual manner.

''Ugh, like you don't find yourself infatuated with my golden winged brother already, don't go falling for another one.'' He groans in disgust, she laughs, melodically.

''I can promise you, I won't.'' That was a future lie.

''Hello, Y/n.'' A new voice from behind her, sensing the energy, she knew it was Cas.

A wide grin stretches across her features, ''Castiel!'' She shouts, whipping round to face the angel in his new restrictions. ''My, my, good choice, my angel.'' A nickname specifically reserved for the defying being.

''I would say 'thank you', but it would be a most similar and repetitive interaction.'' She sighs in relaxation, reliving her first encounter with Castiel.

''You are always welcome, you're one of my favourites.'' She boops his nose, squeaking 'boop' at the same time, Cas cocks his head in confusion.

''Boop?'' He questions her, she shrugs her shoulders.

''You're cute, so I booped you.'' She giggles, Castiel couldn't refuse the stutter in his 'emotions' as she spoke.

''Okay.''

---

I heard Mark Sheppard's voice throughout the void, ''YoU'rE cUtE, sO i BoOpEd YoU!'' His badgering voice pointing fun at me.

''Shut up.'' I mumble.

---

It was beautiful, the winding waterfall gushing down the rocks, watching it flow. She sat, in deep thought, things between Lucifer and Michael were getting tense, she was scared for the future.

''You don't need to worry about us, my little cherub.'' Lucifer's voice mixed eloquently with the sound of the waves slowly connecting the lake below.

''It's part of my job, I couldn't help it if I tried.'' She shrugged, she stared at the water, taking in the fresh air.

''I know that things aren't simple, they never will be, just know you will always have me. I have never spoken to anyone in such a tone before, you should be honoured, little one.'' This made her accumulate, she leaned back into hold, he was a median temperature. It was nice.

''My Lucifer.'' She grinned in thought. ''You always have been the most intriguing, I will never give up on you, I promise you that.'' She craned her neck to look at the blonde, before pressing the smallest of kisses to his jaw. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so honest with himself, and she wouldn't again for some time.

---

''My dear, this is too dangerous. You are not a warrior, you are a healer and an abettor. I can't let you, I'm sorry.'' Crowley's gruff rumble soaked the thin air, she wanted to fight for her angels- with her angels. She held the power, but not the will.

''I was made for this moment, this is my purpose, I have to do something.'' She pleads, tears stinging her eyes.

''Listen to me, darling, they need you alive more than you're help. Listen to what I'm saying, although I am nonpartisan, I can't remain unbiased. I fear that my little, fascination with you is what keeps you safe. The angels may not love it, but it keeps you safe whilst they handle their own. They want you safe, so that is what I will do.'' His short monologue seemed to flip something within Y/n, she stayed silent for a moment, reeling in thought. Hearing his repetition of the word safe just made her wish the same for her angels.

''I-I guess you're right. I don't want anything to happen to them, you remember last time, when it all-'' She couldn't bring herself to continue, relishing in the agony of remembering when Lucifer was cast.

''Yes, my dear, and you nearly got caught in the crossfire. It can't happen again, there is no other being like you and there never will be. The stories are that God nearly killed himself trying to create you, you are everything he wanted humanity to be.'' She smiled at this, he was trying to cheer her up with a bit of complimenting. ''Even if you are stubborn.'' She slapped his chest, as a farce and let out a small cachinnate.

---

Everyone was silent, things started to get heavy on thought and reason. No one could think of a word to say.

''One more for good measure, then we will asses you, Y/n.'' Uh, what does that mean?

---

The quiet air that surrounded the two was comforting and safe, content and peaceful. Y/n and Gabriel sat opposite one another, his wings lay in her lap as she did what she does best. Her hands traced up the outer lining of his wings, from top to bottom, before moving in the the inner feathers. She rolled a collection of feathers between her fingers each time she moving a few inches down, softly and gently. Working out the stress and the tightness that wound itself within them, he holds onto her knee, using it as a gripping post every once in a while. It wasn't a pain thing though, it was quite the opposite, the gratification and the bliss he was receiving from such a special moment was intense.

''I don't know why, I think your wings are my favourite.'' She hums out, brushing out the feathers she had been fixing in a swoop from the height of his wing and downwards, before moving on to the next section.

''Oh, really?'' Gabriel couldn't resist the playful tone residing in his comment, but that was what Y/n loved, he wasn't afraid to tease her.

''Without a doubt, they're mesmerising. Such a beautiful colour, and shape. They suit you so well.'' Slowly, she leans forward to kiss the corner of his mouth, before gently pulling herself back.

''Come on, sweetheart! You can do better than that-'' His voice is cut off by a staggering gasp as she unwinds a knot in his feather,  gripping her knee tight, he swoons.

She doesn't say a word, yet she picks up her head again, craning towards the angel's face. While continuing to brush out his ailerons of flight, she kisses him again, direct and strong. She moves against his lips with such care but much passion, Gabriel couldn't resist the slip of his tongue to her, she wasn't in any way complaining.

---

''Okay, that was upsetting to watch.'' Richard grumbles, we find ourselves back inside the green room, standing in front of us remain Chuck and Gabriel.

''You're telling me.'' I let a slanted expression reach my face.

''You mean you still don't remember?'' Gabriel's frown tugs at my heart, I feel something for him, but not as immense as what we have been watching.

''I have something that might work, but it might...do something?'' Chuck gives out a nervous chuckle, small and barely there.

''Do it, I need her back, I don't care about the consequences unless it hurts her.'' The strain and torment in his intonation is dismal.

''It won't hurt her, but it might- never mind, if it happens then it happens, if it doesn't then you will be happy you didn't know.'' Chuck walks towards me with purpose and I cower back slightly, a stern alarm on my face.

''W-Woah there, what are you doing?'' I reach out my hands in a 'stop' motion, he grabs hold of them.

''Bringing back your memory, I need you to focus on the moments you just watched, think about how you felt during them.'' I thought back, I felt as if I was the girl in the grass, and in heaven and the girl who loved the angels. I revelled in the select memories, the beautiful memories. ''Good, carry on thinking about them and how you felt.''

I felt a warmth surge through my hands, as they remained connected to Chuck's.

''It's working.'' I peek open my eyes and look down at our hands. Mine are white and hold a holy glow, my eyes widen as I look at the magic.

''This is you?'' I ask, Chuck shakes his head.

''It's you, well, it's us. You have your own powers, but this kind can only be used when I am touching you. You know you have angelic advantages, from the show?'' He explains in a way I understand, I nod. ''D-Do you want to remember this world? Along with your true one?'' I bit my lip before answering.

''I would, some people I can't let go.'' I look towards Rob, who stood off towards the side, the group of my colleagues still in shock of the situation, some whispering to each other.

''I see. Are you ready?'' The heat is getting more intense in my hands, a burning hot white light shines from then.

''I think so.''

''I need to warn you, you may not like what could happen next.'' He unclasps our hands before reaching up to sandwich my head between them. It wasn't painful, it was peculiar, my body went numb. This took around a minute before he took his hands of me.

My mind and his instantly travelled to a secluded world. It was barren and empty, but beautiful, Red sand and burnt skies surrounded me, small oasis' patched around. The sun was in a constant set, never going up nor down.

''Where are we?'' I asked Chuck, he was dressed in a white pant and shirt, I looked down towards myself. I was enclosed by a gorgeous lengthy white garment, a golden sash across my waist.

''We're in your head. How are you feeling?'' I smile.

''Like myself, thanks Chuck, nice to meet you by the way- can't believe I haven't said that yet, after all Gabe has told me.''

''Um, okay, this is going to be awkward to ask. What do you feel? When you look at me, that is.''

''Hm...'' I look into his soft eyes. I felt as if I belonged there, like it was home. My whole existence within his soul.

''That's- not good.'' He must have read me, because I didn't say that out loud. I widen my eyes, starting to panic. ''I-I mean, it could be? It depends how you feel on the matter.'' He tries to soothe me.

''Explain.'' Was all I said.

''We- well. I've linked us, not on purpose. You're life's fulfilment is with me now, along with the angels. I'm not your creator anymore, I'm your equal. Yet you are not light nor dark, your the meld of both, a mediator if you will. The love for the angels, can be found within myself now. I'm sorry, I never thought it would actually happen.'' I'm guessing this is the first time he has ever apologised, I don't know how but- I feel like I know everything about him. The almost humanitarian way he dabbles jn his powers is confronting.

''Yes, that's another edge you have, you know everything about me now, you know who I am and what I've done.'' He looks ashamed and off to the side.

''You may not be proud of who you are, but I am-'' I hold his hand and turn his head with my other. ''You're the creator, just because you have done bad things, does not mean you're a bad person.'' I feel like I've known him my whole life, I technically have. He remains silent.

''We will have our time, go seem them. If you ever need to see me and I'm not around, think of this place and I'll meet you here, no matter how far apart we are.'' He extracts us from the sanctuary.

I'm back in my own body, looking around at the awkward faces of my peers. We must have been stood, staring into space for some time.

''Hey-''I turn to Gabe as he speaks, walking towards him before I stop dead in my tracks. I swiftly run back to Chuck, slamming my lips against his, I feel my heart stutter in the shock of my own actions. He kisses me back with much more passion, before I pull away. I look at Rob, his mouth his hung open, using my power I look into his head.

He's shocked and- jealous. He thinks it's invigorating to see a version of himself kiss you. Realising he could've admitted his feelings to you, perhaps you wouldn't have gone back to them.

''Well- okay, that's new.'' Gabriel mutters, his voice cracks in the middle of his speech.

I turn and run towards Gabe.

''Don't worry, you're still my favourite.'' He yanks me into a hug, pulling me into a compact hug, I wrap my legs around his waist.

He whispers some enochian into my ear, I bite my lip and smile. Along the lines of 'should I book the hotel now or later?'.

''You know full well we don't need to do that.'' I couldn't help but tease him back, he sighs in content, happy to have us back.

''I'm- confused, what the fuck is going on?'' Sebastian calls.

''If you want, you can make them forget, Y/n.'' Chuck announces, a valley of yelling and protests wash over me from the Supernatural cast.

''Can I? It could be for the best...'' I trail off, the cast look at me with hurt in their eyes, I decide to communicate with Rob through his head.

'Rob' He looks around, alarmed. 'I'm in your mind, don't panic'

'How could you? I know you aren't meant to be here but please don't make me forget you' I could hear the pain within him.

'I won't completely, you'll know me, but not as who I am. You will know me as your colleague and friend, I'll visit you'

'I love you, I'm sorry I never said it' I heard his heart shatter.

'I love you too, maybe we can develop something in the future' Maybe I was asking too much of myself, maybe not.

''You ready to go back?'' Chuck waltzes toward me and Gabriel. ''Other angels want to see you, I can hear them, it's rather annoying.'' I smile at the thought of seeing them all again, this time knowing who they are to me.

''I think so.'' I turn back to say my goodbyes.

''Misha, you are one of the most genuine and kind people this Earth can offer, I'm so happy I met you.'' I move forward to hug him, channelling my power, as soon as I leave this plane it will activate- leaving them in the state they were before.

''Mr. Sheppard, you smarmy bastard, never change. The world couldn't take it. I'll see you soon.'' I step forward to hug him.

''My, my, Pellegrino, a tear? Not going soft on me, are you?'' He shakes his head, rolling his eyes at me. ''I'll miss you and your karaoke.'' I hug him, he holds on a little longer, refusing to let me go. I look at him with sad eyes, before turning to Sebastian.

''You and your attitude Roche, you're such a light person, you'll see me again and I promise you that. Keep up the humour, you're not yourself without it.'' I hug him, ejecting a powerful wave.

''Richard, I will admit you are my best friend, even when you're trying to sleep with everything that walks. Take care of Robbie for me, I won't be too long before my next visit, so hold on.'' I grip him in my arms, pulling gently on his beard as we part, before getting mockingly swatted away.

I couldn't sat goodbye to Rob, looking at his disheartened face. ''R-Robbie-'' I tried not to cry, saying goodbye to so many friends is breaking me.

''I can't explain how much you mean to me, I love you, in every way you can imagine. I love you all.'' I hug Rob, not wanting to let go.

''Please don't go.'' His whimper makes me finally let out tears.

''I need to. I promise I'll return.'' I think about my next action, before deciding on it.

'Pull away if you don't want this.' I say to him, his head is swimming with agony.

Kissing him, very lightly, I feel tears mix on my lips. I pull away before I get too attached.

''Gonna miss you, so much.'' He whispers to me, clutching my shirt in his hands.

''I have to go, bye Benedict, till we meet again.'' I try to spin a comedic affect into my words, stepping away from my best friends.

Chuck holds out his hands, Gabriel and I connect to them. I shut my eyes, I can't face what I'm leaving behind. I feel a golden illumination against my shut eyelids.

It's not forever, but I will miss them.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural #supernatural cast imagine #supernatural cast #supernatural lucifer #lucifer imagine #lucifer #lucifer x reader #supernatural lucifer x reader #misha collins #castiel imagine #castiel #gabriel #gabriel imagine #chuck shurley #chuck shurley imagine #chuck shurley x reader #rob benedict #rob benedict imagine #rob benedict imagines #rob benedict x reader #richard speight jr #mark sheppard #mark pellegrino #sebastian roche #crowley #crowley imagine #balthazar #balthazar imagine

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

#wolf 359 #bad things happen bingo #Daniel Jacobi #isabel lovelace #w359

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

canNOT decide which version of “Harry Wilson actually already knows Kate Bishop, thanks anyway” i like more:

Harry was one of Derek Bishop’s attorneys and he’s actually the one who cut Kate off

variations on “Harry worked for Derek”

he calls her now that he’s a good guy to talk to her about her dad’s company, he’s thinking of seeing if Leverage will go after Derek next, and he asks her to meet up with him

at like, an abandoned warehouse or something super sketch like that

and Kate says sure, but she’s ALSO not stupid, so she calls David and asks if he’ll go with her

David Hardison says yeah, his babes are going to be in New York that week so he’ll be able to spend time with them!! 

They meet in the super sketchy warehouse and Harry’s all “Hardison? What are you doing here?” and Hardison is all “why the hell are you calling my friend Kate,” and Kate’s all “David why the hell do you know my dad’s asshole lawyer”

a hiLARious misunderstanding

Harry finds out Kate is Hawkeye and he’s like. okay. okay. i need a minute. i need to find someplace to sit down. you’re saying you could have sniped me at any moment, i just, i need a minute

if this is KateQuinn then Quinn goes with her, OBVIOUSLY

and Eliot goes with Harry because Harry lets slip he’s meeting up with someone who probably doesn’t like him very much

Eliot and Quinn are both checking the perimeter and run into each other. they start fighting before they realize who they are

and then it’s lots of back slapping and “dude!”

Eliot rolls his eyes so hard when he finds out Harry is here to see Kate

if he’d been less secrety, they could have had this meeting somewhere with less water damage

harry has a lil crush on quinn

PERHAPS Kate goes to meet Harry, but this time she’s bringing her OWN lawyers, Matt and Foggy, who Harry ALSO knows

and he’s just like, fuck, fuck, i CANNOT catch a break

OR. Leverage is working an unrelated gig and Kate just happens to be at the party they are at to work the mark

Harry and Kate lock eyes and she. the look she gives him. it’s a MURDER look.

and harry’s just like shit shit shit. i think she knows i helped her dad put a hit on an avenger. how does she know. 

Eliot intercepts her before she gets to Harry because Kate can legitimize the con and she’s helped them before

Kate realizing Harry is on the earbuds and straight up threatening him with murder when she’s done

MattKate version where they’re at the party and Matt can tell Harry has the earbud in and tells Kate it’s David’s team

Kate stalks up to Harry and says something to the effect of “say hi to david for me” and Eliot and Parker start freAKIng out because yay!!! kate!!!

they tell Harry what to say so Kate doesn’t deck him and ruin the con

at some point Eliot goes “i think Kate’s lawyer boyfriend is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen”

“the BLIND LAWYER?”

“it’s a very distinctive stance!”

Harry realizes he not only helped Derek put a hit on an avenger but also his own daughter and harry has a meltdown

OR

they’re running the info on their next job, which is bishop publishing, and Kate walks in, sees Harry, LAUNCHES herself at him, and decks him

cut to harry with a bag of frozen peas against his face while Eliot tries not to laugh

Harry put together the prenup for Derek and wife #5 and went to the wedding. He had the good fortune to sit next to Kate who was guessing how long the marriage would last and how much everything cost like “these super ugly floral arrangements could have funded the meal programs in three schools”

kate kind of hates everything, so harry asks why she even came?

she wanted to glare at her dad the whole night. just enough to make him and the bride uncomfortable

“she’s my age. that’s very ew.” 

“to be fair, she’s almost thirty, once you hit thirty age differences are less--”

“i know how old she is, we graduated high school together.”

“ah, yep. ew.”

the wedding was held at an art museum or something

kate: i know someone who stole this painting once.

harry: ha. ha. ok.

somehow convinced harry to steal some champagne and go into an off limits area to play beer pong with champagne

“i didn’t go to college right after high school, this is what college is like, yeah?”

“it is absolutely not”

he says something about her inheritance and she snorts. she’s not in the will.

harry thinks he could probably write her back into it and no one would know

he’s impressed she has her own business

she’s not impressed he works for her dad

he humblebrags about his daughter

kate: u know what would piss my dad off

harry: i do not.

kate:

harry: no. absolutely no. nope. 

kate: :(

they keep running into each other

kate sneaks into her dad’s new year’s eve party (she was not invited)

she’s planning on stealing some data from him. like crime data

harry has no idea she wasn’t invited, he’s just like “thank fuck someone fun”

at midnight they do the “should we?” awkward shoulder bob thing and give each other a respectful lil smooch

people start to leave and Kate has to bounce before her dad notices her

Harry of course is all “i should walk you home or to a cab, it’s late, who knows what could happen”

which to Kate is the equivalent of a puppy barking at a vacuum

anyway at some point they probably make out

and then Kate realizes Harry’s a sketchy kind of lawyer and nopes out immediately

cut to a year later, Eliot’s telling the team that Hawkeye is going to be joining them on this job for some unspecified reason

everyone is mildly insulted at how surprised Harry is that they know an Avenger

Breanna is SO EXCITE. She temped for Kate one time and they accidentally blew up some dickbag’s bitcoin mining operation because he was stealing electricity from a poor neighborhood

to clarify, FINDING the guy was an accident, the explosion was planned

Alec had given them his “i’m very disappointed” face when he found out. apparently Kate is immune to that face

but the whole point of working with kate was to not do crime so alec was all “no more temp for you”

but basically everyone knows which Hawkeye Eliot is talking about and they’re all really excited and don’t worry, Harry, Hawkeye is cool

and in comes Kate

she and Harry see each other and freeze all YOU

and of course EVERyone in that room either knows how to read people or is being trained to read people so they’re all going oH WHAT. WHAT. SOMETHING HAPPENED WITH THE TWO OF YOU OH OHHHHH

“what are you doing here, sketchy-ass lawyer man?”

“it’s mr. sketchy ass lawyer man to you, and what do you mean what am i doing here, what are you doing here?”

“so i guess you two know each other,” Eliot says

“yeah???” goes kate “he’s one of my dad’s douchebag lawyers!”

“ex douchebag lawyer.”

eventually it gets to harry going “wait, I thought hawkeye was coming?” and all of the rest of leverage going “she’s Here!” and waving in Kate’s direction

Harry is quiet for a minute and then is like “i guess that’s why you laughed at me when i offered to walk you home on new year’s”

“i didn’t MEAN to laugh”

OR Harry represented Derek against Kate

OR Harry was originally Kate’s council as part of Derek Bishop’s team of lawyers, and then when Kate realized her dad was a criminal it became Harry’s job to make her go away and stop causing a ruckus so Kate’s only reason for agreeing to help is on the off chance she gets to punch him

or

harry comes in to meet their newest client and is all ???? the fuck is that vapid heiress doing here, how does someone like her warrant our help

and of course kate is like, tf is that asshole doing here, mr hey-derek-let’s-hide-some-of-your-money-offshore like THAT’s not super sus

at some point he sees her and eliot sparring and harry just. bluescreens. does not compute.

he never had to deal with kate personally but stories about her are legendary, she’s the WORST kind of young money. reckless spending. drinks like the world is going to end. will snort anything.

and here she is. an actual superhero. who apparently uses partying as a cover for vigilantism. and knows how to fool a breathalyzer into thinking she’s drunk when she’s not

he feels bad for whoever her legal council is now. imagine having to deal with that.

turns out he’s her legal council now. whoops.

someone points out that they’re all sort of vigilantes

and someone--either Parker or Kate--goes, “we’re not vigilantes, we’re a vigilanTEAM”

harry has the most profound moment of “were it not for the laws of this land i would have slaughtered you where you stand” he’s ever had in his life

#leverage #leverage redemption #kate bishop #hawkeye #young avengers #harry wilson #our mr. wilson #david alleyne #alec hardison #eliot spencer #mr. quinn #obsessed with this idea

[weebsinstash]

I’m sorry if this is a dumb question, but I don’t understand why doing fanfic commissions is illegal? Artists (who draw I mean, not writers) do it all the time, hell, they even create fan merch and no one yells at them for going against the law or something. Why are the rules different when it comes to fanfics? I thought as long as you don’t claim the characters you write about as your own everything’s fine?

Its complicated because in essence it all comes down to many different factors,, the biggest being if you're worth the company's time to sue (for example, people doing hundreds of commissions a month are bigger liabilities than like a teenager writing about a fictional character holding your hand). Technically, creating any sort of fan merch for profit --art, fanfiction, clothing-- is illegal. Whether or not you are actually going to get in trouble or the creator would even bother sending a simple cease and a desist is debatable, but regardless, you're selling something that has someone else's intellectual property in it and that essentially constitutes as theft and plagiarism under current law. Doing the whole "i don't own these characters, all rights reserved" doesn't actually do anything to protect you, at all, and actually when you do that you're admitting you're aware that you're using a property that doesn't belong to you, which is an "admission of guilt" which could be used against you if you ever did get in trouble imo

It's not really consistent at all because like, obviously most IP owners do not have the time to track every single person on every single website down, especially obscure little bloggers, but people do still get in trouble. In fact, there have been vindictive people who report fancontent straight to the companies/creators themselves for the express purpose of getting fan creators in trouble using the whole "You're illegally selling content" debate just because they don't like their shit. Like, for example, it's a separate but similar issue, but look at what happened with kazooli getting her PayPal or patreon or whatever mass reported by people who'd never even read her shit and were just dogpiling onto performance activism over nothing and they cut off her income just because they knew they could cause a big fucking mess with no consequences to themselves

tbh making money with art commissions or fanfiction commissions is always a gamble because sure, the creator of whatever you're making fan content for isn't aware of you, but there are plenty of dickbags on the internet who could decide to cause shit for you just out of spite. And also with it being the modern era, sometimes the creators themselves or members of their team are on the same website as you. Some larger companies actually have teams and departments for hunting down stolen content (which is why everyone is immediately saying that Disney is going to be the one to shut tumblr down because it's a megamonopoly with tons of wealth and this website is COVERED in content with their IPs)

Tl;dr companies don't want you taking any money that they perceive as belonging to them, they don't want you to tarnish the image of whatever IP you're using and thus hurt the company's profits, and also, as part of basic IP/copyright law, if you do not defend your IP from copying and theft you can actually lose legal ownership of that IP. A prime example is if Nintendo didn't crack down on everyone they catch making knock off joycon controllers, they could lose the patent for the controller design altogether and that could then be stolen by competitors

Tlrdr tldr its just a bunch of money grubbing legal bullshit and while most people will never run into any trouble, the risk is still there, and if you're caught you can be fined (however this is usually relative to whatever you've been doing. Unless you made significant significant money i doubt they'll even sue you, just send a cease and desist telling you to stop or else)

[lovingrosewho]

Fake Dating (pt. 2)

Part 1

Here’s the second part! I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading in advance 💕

MULTICHAPTER

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Rating: T. I guess fluff/crack?

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester need your help with a case, which involves pretending to date the King of Hell.

Warnings: mild innuendos

A couple of days passed with Crowley not answering your phone calls nor your messages, and if he did answer, it would be an awful lot of hours later.

“This is your king” he answers with an amused, yet conceited tone, the fourth time on the day you call him.

“Today. Be ready” you recall angrily and hang up. Stupid bastard.

“Wow, wow! Hey” Dean says entering your room of the bunker “Sweetheart I don’t hate this any less than you do, but Crowley is our door to those sons of bitches, and you know what? You’re the key”.

“Am I?” you mock “The idiot’s been messing with us from the beginning! He doesn’t call back. He doesn’t reply to my messages. When he does, he says ‘OK’. What the fuck is this about?!” you raise your voice, not fully intending to, last days have just been tampering with your nerves.

“I know” Dean pulls you into a hug “It’ll just be a couple of hours and then this’ll all be over, okay?”.

You nod understandingly and let go of his embrace, preparing yourself for the night, packing any extra weapons you have that might be useful for the brothers, sneaking a silver blade in a garter belt placed at your thigh, underneath the long black dress with a slit on one side you’re wearing.

You sigh looking in the mirror, this whole plan just seems like it could go fatal, but then, what’s new?

“My my. Is that really you, Pet?” a voice behind breaking the complete silence in the room startles you.

Crowley takes in your silhouette, the black dress fitting you perfectly, and the way your hips sway in it when you turn around and walk towards him.

“Shut up” you tell him, loud and clear, walking past him to finish packing.

“What’s the matter, kitten? Not happy to see me?” he interrogates eloquently, continuing to lay on top of your bed, fully extending his body and crossing his legs, slightly moving aside you duffle bag with his feet. You snort lowly.

“Shut up” you repeat, taking your things and putting them somewhere else, mentally going through all the stuff you need to bring, the plan and, oh, remembering how to act around the King of Hell.

Crowley eyes you suspiciously.

“Kitten, you do realize this date’s going to go... heavier, to say the least, if you keep avoiding me, right?” he questions with caution, question which, you avoid again.

“Did you tell them? Did they buy it?” Crowley sighs at your further investigation.

“Yes, (Y/N), of course they did. Who do you think you’re talking to?” he says raising an eyebrow and getting up from your bed, coming to be behind you after you stay quiet with this last statement, lowering his mouth to your ear, murmuring afterwards “What is it, (Y/N)? Cat got your tongue?”

You stumble out of your room with the duffle bag, getting to the war room where the Winchesters are, looking at you with eyes wide open, confusion at your sudden behavior. They’re still checking a few things off their own list and making sure they’ve got the place and the security system type right.

“All done” you mutter, taking a chair and spreading all over it, not caring to look ‘feminine’, dumping the bag with extra weapons on the table for them to take.

“Us too” Dean exclaims “Don’t worry princess, next time you blink this’ll all be over”.

You scoff.

Crowley appears next to you, straightening up his suit, you take a peek at him, admiring how well dressed and nice he always looks, the subtle scent he emanates. It’s more than sulfur, it’s scotch and cologne and... something fiery.

Crowley looks back at you and you divert your gaze quickly, pretending to be looking at Sam, when in reality, you could stare at the King of Hell forever.

“Ready then, kitten?” he asks politely and you nod.

“Please be careful and text us if anything comes up” Sam tells you reassuringly and you nod again.

“Oh and Crowley” Dean interrupts before Crowley can put his hand on your shoulder to zap you with him “I know, we know, you’re the King of dickbags and everything, but please, at least don’t leave her to die if anything”.

You roll your eyes.

“If anything, I’ll be the one to leave him to die, Dean, don’t worry about that, I can handle myself” you declare bitterly, taking your purse, your coat, and directing at Crowley next “We can go now”.

Without further conversation, and not allowing Dean to reply, Crowley snaps his fingers and suddenly you’re with him in front of a giant, nicely illuminated restaurant. A fancy one too.

You tense at the sight of the candles and the ambiance. There’s classical music live. The place is filled with couples and old people. It screams everything you aren’t and everything you hate.

“I can’t do this” you mutter beginning to storm out of the place but Crowley catches your arm and takes you to a more quiet spot.

“Kitten what’s wrong?” he questions concerned. Damn it. You must be embarrassing him.

“I don’t do dates, Crowley” you confess “Much less double dates. I don’t do fancy places either. It’s just... it’s too much”.

He nods silently in understandment.

“Listen, love” he starts sweetly “It’s just some dinner, don’t let the plushy decor fool you. Everything will be just fine, you’ll be spectacular, as usual”.

“I won’t. I don’t even know how to act around you...” you say looking down, tears threatening your eyes and a knot forming in your throat. Crowley takes your hands in his and makes you look up at him.

“(Y/N), I promise you, as long as I’m with you, you’ll be safe, as for acting, you don’t need my help with that, you’re doing just fine right now, kitten” he says and brings your hands up to his mouth, kissing each of them softly “And if during our evening, you feel uneasy, you just take my hand and I’ll make you feel safe again, understood?”

You sigh and mutter a ‘yes’, giving Crowley a light smile, taking his hand to let the waiter guide you to your table.

“They’re late” Crowley says when you’ve spent about fifteen minutes seated, between gritted teeth.

“It’s fine” you assure him, giving the place a glance over again “You booked this place?”

“Of course I did. Only the best for my one and only true partner in crime” he offers smiling, which causes you to scoff and smack his chest playfully.

“There you are again”.

“Ouch!” he exclaims dramatically, you’re about to retort until you see the couple of shifters walking towards you.

Part 3

MASTERLIST /// TAG LIST: @enby-thesbian (if you’d like to be tagged feel free to comment/message me :-))

#crowley supernatural #crowley x reader #crowley #crowley spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural fic #supernatural multichapter #crowley multichapter #supernatural masterlist #spn fanfiction #spn fic #crowley x y/n #crowley x you